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sigsauer-ist:

ungoliantschilde:

FedEx has amusing aircraft mechanics in their employ.

oh fuck this is great

cassbones:

Working off my own prompt: what if Castle had been a biker that Beckett had met in high school? AU oneshot. The above fan art is not mine.
The Biker
"Waitress!" Kate turned at the sound, knowing they were calling to her. She sighed at the portly middle-aged man with the lecherous grin at the counter.
"I’ll be right there," she called to him, ignoring the disgruntled look he gave her; it wasn’t her fault this place was packed.
"Can I get you anything else?" she asked the young couple, probably about her age. The guy gave his girlfriend a questioning look and she shook her head, smiling bashfully.
"We’re good," he told Kate.
"Really?" Kate questioned. "You only ordered a salad and…a water. you sure you don’t want anything else? Maybe a burger or some fries?"
The girl opens her mouth to answer, but a look from her boyfriend stops her and she looks down. “I’m okay,” she mumbles.
Kate’s eyes shift between the two of them; the boyfriend gives her a fake smile, but she can see right through it. She doesn’t think, for a second, that the jerk can’t afford it—his designer jacket and Cheeseburger Deluxe is proof enough of that. It’s more likely that he’s pressuring her into eating less for his own benefit of looking at her. 
Kate forces a smile and tucks her notepad into her apron. “Okay,” she says, “food will be right out.”
She walks towards the kitchen, only to be stopped by a greasy hand on her arm. She turns to see the lecherous pig grinning up at her. She attempts to tug her arm away but his grip seems to tighten. 
"Can I help you, sir?" she asks through clenched teeth. "Do you need your check or something?"
"Yeah, that’d be nice," he replies, "but I’d also like to know…" Oh no “if you get off shift soon. Maybe we could go grab some…coffee or something.”
Kate’s eyes narrow at him and glance quickly at the coffee machine just a few feet away. She’ll give him some coffee, alright, if he doesn’t get his grubby hands off of—
"Kate?" 
Kate and the man both snap their heads towards the voice and her heart jumps in her chest at the sight of the young—unfamiliar—man, maybe a year or two older than Kate’s seventeen. He’s wearing a black leather jacket and a pair of ripped jeans. His t-shirt has a grey alien on it, but it somehow makes him look tougher, and not geeky like one might think (but that could also have something to do with his muscular arms and broad shoulders). His blue eyes sparkle mischievously, and he has a sly, but happy, grin on his face.
"Uh…hi," she says, somewhat breathlessly. She gives him a confused look, but his grin only widens. 
"I’m sorry," he says, "I thought you’d already be off for the night, but I guess I was wrong…is there a problem here, sir?"
The lecher’s eyes widen and he immediately lets go of Kate’s arm. “No,” he says, “no problem. I was just asking Miss….Kate, here, to bring me my check. Right?” He looks pleadingly at Kate and she nods, grinning, pulling out her check book from her pocket and adding up all his costs, before handing it to him.
"Be sure to leave my girl a good tip, alright?" the young man says, patting the customer on the back, before taking his seat at the other end of the counter. Kate grins at him and rolls her eyes, before making her way into the kitchen to deliver her last order of the night.
"Charlie," she says, "can you do me a favor?"
"What’s that, Katie Cakes?" he asks, affectionately. Charlie is a man in his seventies—a fifty-year fry cook—and almost a second father to Kate, who’d had to deal with being one of only two waitresses on staff. He’d helped her out by getting the other guys off her case.
"Can you add a plate of fries to that order with the deluxe?" she asks.
"Sure can! You forget to add it?" he asks, writing down the note on the order. 
"Nope! Just thought I’d give them a little treat tonight."
"Again? Girl, you’re never gonna get that bike you wanted if you keep giving food away.”
"I’ve got plenty for the bike, Charlie, but girls gotta eat and that one’s boyfriend is a douche; least I can do."
"All you females gotta stick together, huh?" Charlie laughs.
"Got that right!" Kate replies, walking out of the kitchen.
When she steps out, the old man is gone and the young man is sitting at the end of the bar, reading a menu. Kate searches for Lanie, the other waitress and her good friend, but Lanie’s holed up at the family table, with two screaming babies….and her shift’s only just begun!
Kate figures she might as well help her out and takes out her notepad, making her way over to the man with the leather jacket.
"Can I get you anything to drink, sir?" she asks, a slight grin tugging at her lips as his blue eyes peer over the menu, at her.
"Coke?" he requests.
"Pepsi," she replies.
"Close enough," he acquiesces, putting down the menu.
Kate writes down the order. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks.
"Uh….your number?" he asks, cheekily.
Kate rolls her eyes. “Not on the menu,” she replies, pointedly.
"Can I have it anyway," he asks, "please?"
"Well," she teases, "since you said please."
"Really?" he asks, excitedly.
"No," she laughs, putting away her pad and turning to the soda fountain to get him a drink. When she places it in front of him, a thought comes to her. "How did you know my name?" she asks.
"Lucky guess," he replies, cheekily. Kate lifts one brow and he laughs. "You’re wearing a name tag," he reminds her, taking a sip of his drink. 
Kate looks down at her chest. The name tag is well worn and the first two letters are starting to peel. She gives him another look.
"It was either Kate, Nate, or Kite," he explains. "I made an educated guess. Was I wrong?"
Kate shook her head. “No, you’re right…nice detective skills.”
"Thank you." He grins. "So…about that number…"
Kate shakes her head and opens her mouth, but the ding coming from the kitchen causes her to look away. She puts up a finger as she practically runs to the kitchen. 
"Got anything for me, Charlie?" she asks.
"Nope," Charlie replies. "Dennis just got his order. You’re should be up soon, though. Just another minute for the fries."
Kate nods and exits, rushing to the soda fountain, filling two cups with Coke (one diet) and grabbing a lemon slice to garnish the diet drink, before running them to the table.
The girl’s eyes widen at the drink Kate places in front of her and she opens her mouth to say something, but Kate shakes her head.
"It’s diet," she says, before turning to give the boyfriend an icy look, "and it’s on the house." 
She walks away, leaving the two gaping after her. They haven’t seen anything yet.
Kate quickly picks up their food and runs it to them, placing the burger deluxe in front of the guy and the salad and fries in front of the girl, who blushes.
"I…I didn’t order—"
"I know," Kate says. "They’re also on the house. A girl needs more than rabbit food for sustenance, trust me. I eat these all the time.”
The girl’s eyes widen, taking in Kate’s gorgeous figure. “You do?” she asks. Kate grins, nodding.
"Uh-huh," she says. "And I don’t do it for any boy, either.” She glares at the boyfriend, whose face is beat red, and saunters away, back towards the bar, finding the young man done with his soda. “Need a refill?” she asks, picking up her tip from two other customers who’d just left and placing their payment into the register. 
"No thanks," he answers. "You almost done for the night?"
"Uh…yeah," she answers, grinning. "My shift ends…now. I just have to do one more thing." She closes the register and walks towards Lanie, who’s just placing the last plate on the family table and wishing them a good meal.
"Hey, Lane," she greets, "can you cover table three? I’ve already served them; you can take the tip. Same goes for the guy at the bar who’s about to leave."
"Oh, but don’t you need the money right now? You want that bike, don’t you?" she asks.
"I’ve got all summer to get that bike," Kate says. "You only have one more year to collect for med school, and you’ll still be drowned in debt.”
"What about Law school?"
"Mom and Dad have already promised to stop eating fast food until I graduate. Plus, Grandpa had a college fund set up for me in his will. I’m covered. So stop arguing and take the damn money."
Lanie cackles. “You rock, girl.”
"I know," Kate sighs, walking away while her friend laughs after her.
Untying her apron, Kate steps into the kitchen, moving towards the lockers in the back. She removes it and shoves it into her own locker and closes it before clocking out and grabbing her jacket from the coat rack, slipping it on as she steps out into the diner. The young man throws a ten on the counter—for a two dollar drink—and walks up to her.
"Want a ride home?" he asks. Kate eyes him warily. "My intentions are completely pure," he promises. "I’ll even show you my license and registration and let you call my mom."
Kate snorts. “Okay,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Let’s go.”
He grins and leads her out of the diner.
"What’s your name, anyway?" Kate asks as they walk down the street.
"Richard Alexander Rodgers," he replies, "but you can call me Castle."
"Castle?" Kate asks. "How do you get Castle out of that?"
"It’s my pen name," Castle replies. "I use it when I’m writing."
"You write?" Kate asks, surprised. "What an amazing coincidence."
"Why?" he asks. "You write too?"
"No," she says, grinning, "I read."
He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re funny,” he says. “Didn’t expect that.”
"Why?" she asks. "Pretty girls can’t be funny?"
“‘Course they can,” he insists, “I just don’t meet a lot of them.”
"Sounds pretty dull," Kate comments.
"It is," Castle sighs. "That’s why I’m glad I met you." Kate snorts. "What?"
"That is so cheesy!" she laughs.
"But it worked, didn’t it?" Kate doesn’t answer; she bites back a grin. "I thought so."
He stops and so does she. He turns to a parked motorcycle and she gasps as he pulls out a set of keys and unlocks them with a remote control.
"You drive a motorcycle?" she asks, her eyes wide. He grins, nodding.
"That I do," he says, reaching down to pick up two hidden helmets. He hands her one and she puts it on. 
"A Harley softtail 1994," she sighs, "a beaut."
"My baby," Castle replies, stroking a hand over the seat. Kate snorts and shakes her head. Castle offers her a hand to help her onto the seat. She takes it and hops on. Castle steadies the bike and climbs on himself, sitting in front of her. 
Kate immediately wraps her arms around his waist as he revs the engine. “Hold on tight!” he tells her. She tightens her grip and he kicks off from the ground, pulling out into traffic.
Kate’s hair, which she’d taken out of her ponytail, whips behind her, falling out from beneath the helmet, and she grins, relaxing into the soothing summer air. Soon, she thinks, this will be her.
Castle’s voice cuts through her thoughts. “So where do you gotta go, anyway?” he asks. 
"Actually," she calls back, "I don’t have to be home until midnight; we have two hours to spare."
"Wanna go for a ride?" he asks, grinning.
"Duh!" Kate says, chuckling.
"Hold on!" He presses down on the gas and she squeezes tighter as they pick up speed, weaving in and out of traffic. 
For over an hour, they ride all over Manhattan, racing through Central Park and buzzing down Broadway before Kate finally points him in the direction of her apartment. They stop at a park nearby for a few more moments of freedom before they have to say goodbye. They lean against his bike as they talk.
"So…you write, huh?" Kate says, once she removes her helmet, shaking off her helmet hair. "You don’t look much like a writer."
"Writers can’t be ruggedly handsome?" he asks, grinning. Kate rolls her eyes.
"Not the ones I’ve met," she retorts.
"Sounds pretty dull," he replies. She laughs. 
"It is," he agrees, smiling down at her. "What about you? What do you wanna do for a living? I assume it’s not waiting on tables."
"You assume right," Kate replies. "I want to be the first female Chief Justice. You know, Law school and all that."
"That sounds interesting," Castle says, genuinely. "Your mom’s a lawyer?"
"Mom and dad," Kate says, nodding. "How did you know?"
"Research for a book. Kids usually choose a similar path their parents took and it’s usually the one whose gender they match up with."
"Interesting…your dad a writer?"
"I wouldn’t know," Castle replies, shrugging. "Never met him."
"Oh, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—"
"No, it’s fine," he insists. "I’m over it. Besides, as a writer, I can make him be anything that I want, you know. He can be a secret agent, a gang leader, a superhero…the real thing probably wouldn’t even match up. So I’m good with not knowing."
Kate smiles up at him, biting her lip. “Well, no matter who he is,” she says, “he’s made a pretty great kid.”
Castle grins back. “I am pretty great, aren’t I?” he says, cheekily. “You know, I’ve also got a few other talents.”
"Oh yeah," Kate questions, flirtingly, "like what?"
"Well, I can fence, play piano, and I’m a damn good chef—I’d have to be or else my mother probably would have poisoned me long ago. And…I’m a pretty good kisser."
Kate grins at that, rolling her eyes. “Oh yeah?” she asks, looking up at him from underneath her lashes. “Prove it.”
Castle grins down at her, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her body against his. Kate gasps, but the sound swallowed by Castle’s lips as he slants them down over hers. Kate moans into his mouth, her arms winding up around his neck. Castle’s hands grip her waist as his tongue invades her mouth.
Kate’s mouth opens for him and she leans more heavily against his body, her knees suddenly having gone weak, in some sort of cheesy cinema-esque cliche.
When they pull back, both are breathless. Castle grins, placing his forehead against hers. “How’d I do?” he asks.
"You have clearly been overestimating yourself," Kate teases. "I think you need a lot more practice.”
"Well, maybe you can help me with that," Castle replies, wiggling his eyebrows at her.
"Sounds like a plan," she replies, leaning into to kiss him again.
The end.

cassbones:

Working off my own prompt: what if Castle had been a biker that Beckett had met in high school? AU oneshot. The above fan art is not mine.

The Biker

"Waitress!" Kate turned at the sound, knowing they were calling to her. She sighed at the portly middle-aged man with the lecherous grin at the counter.

"I’ll be right there," she called to him, ignoring the disgruntled look he gave her; it wasn’t her fault this place was packed.

"Can I get you anything else?" she asked the young couple, probably about her age. The guy gave his girlfriend a questioning look and she shook her head, smiling bashfully.

"We’re good," he told Kate.

"Really?" Kate questioned. "You only ordered a salad and…a water. you sure you don’t want anything else? Maybe a burger or some fries?"

The girl opens her mouth to answer, but a look from her boyfriend stops her and she looks down. “I’m okay,” she mumbles.

Kate’s eyes shift between the two of them; the boyfriend gives her a fake smile, but she can see right through it. She doesn’t think, for a second, that the jerk can’t afford it—his designer jacket and Cheeseburger Deluxe is proof enough of that. It’s more likely that he’s pressuring her into eating less for his own benefit of looking at her. 

Kate forces a smile and tucks her notepad into her apron. “Okay,” she says, “food will be right out.”

She walks towards the kitchen, only to be stopped by a greasy hand on her arm. She turns to see the lecherous pig grinning up at her. She attempts to tug her arm away but his grip seems to tighten. 

"Can I help you, sir?" she asks through clenched teeth. "Do you need your check or something?"

"Yeah, that’d be nice," he replies, "but I’d also like to know…" Oh no “if you get off shift soon. Maybe we could go grab some…coffee or something.”

Kate’s eyes narrow at him and glance quickly at the coffee machine just a few feet away. She’ll give him some coffee, alright, if he doesn’t get his grubby hands off of—

"Kate?" 

Kate and the man both snap their heads towards the voice and her heart jumps in her chest at the sight of the young—unfamiliar—man, maybe a year or two older than Kate’s seventeen. He’s wearing a black leather jacket and a pair of ripped jeans. His t-shirt has a grey alien on it, but it somehow makes him look tougher, and not geeky like one might think (but that could also have something to do with his muscular arms and broad shoulders). His blue eyes sparkle mischievously, and he has a sly, but happy, grin on his face.

"Uh…hi," she says, somewhat breathlessly. She gives him a confused look, but his grin only widens. 

"I’m sorry," he says, "I thought you’d already be off for the night, but I guess I was wrong…is there a problem here, sir?"

The lecher’s eyes widen and he immediately lets go of Kate’s arm. “No,” he says, “no problem. I was just asking Miss….Kate, here, to bring me my check. Right?” He looks pleadingly at Kate and she nods, grinning, pulling out her check book from her pocket and adding up all his costs, before handing it to him.

"Be sure to leave my girl a good tip, alright?" the young man says, patting the customer on the back, before taking his seat at the other end of the counter. Kate grins at him and rolls her eyes, before making her way into the kitchen to deliver her last order of the night.

"Charlie," she says, "can you do me a favor?"

"What’s that, Katie Cakes?" he asks, affectionately. Charlie is a man in his seventies—a fifty-year fry cook—and almost a second father to Kate, who’d had to deal with being one of only two waitresses on staff. He’d helped her out by getting the other guys off her case.

"Can you add a plate of fries to that order with the deluxe?" she asks.

"Sure can! You forget to add it?" he asks, writing down the note on the order. 

"Nope! Just thought I’d give them a little treat tonight."

"Again? Girl, you’re never gonna get that bike you wanted if you keep giving food away.”

"I’ve got plenty for the bike, Charlie, but girls gotta eat and that one’s boyfriend is a douche; least I can do."

"All you females gotta stick together, huh?" Charlie laughs.

"Got that right!" Kate replies, walking out of the kitchen.

When she steps out, the old man is gone and the young man is sitting at the end of the bar, reading a menu. Kate searches for Lanie, the other waitress and her good friend, but Lanie’s holed up at the family table, with two screaming babies….and her shift’s only just begun!

Kate figures she might as well help her out and takes out her notepad, making her way over to the man with the leather jacket.

"Can I get you anything to drink, sir?" she asks, a slight grin tugging at her lips as his blue eyes peer over the menu, at her.

"Coke?" he requests.

"Pepsi," she replies.

"Close enough," he acquiesces, putting down the menu.

Kate writes down the order. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks.

"Uh….your number?" he asks, cheekily.

Kate rolls her eyes. “Not on the menu,” she replies, pointedly.

"Can I have it anyway," he asks, "please?"

"Well," she teases, "since you said please."

"Really?" he asks, excitedly.

"No," she laughs, putting away her pad and turning to the soda fountain to get him a drink. When she places it in front of him, a thought comes to her. "How did you know my name?" she asks.

"Lucky guess," he replies, cheekily. Kate lifts one brow and he laughs. "You’re wearing a name tag," he reminds her, taking a sip of his drink. 

Kate looks down at her chest. The name tag is well worn and the first two letters are starting to peel. She gives him another look.

"It was either Kate, Nate, or Kite," he explains. "I made an educated guess. Was I wrong?"

Kate shook her head. “No, you’re right…nice detective skills.”

"Thank you." He grins. "So…about that number…"

Kate shakes her head and opens her mouth, but the ding coming from the kitchen causes her to look away. She puts up a finger as she practically runs to the kitchen. 

"Got anything for me, Charlie?" she asks.

"Nope," Charlie replies. "Dennis just got his order. You’re should be up soon, though. Just another minute for the fries."

Kate nods and exits, rushing to the soda fountain, filling two cups with Coke (one diet) and grabbing a lemon slice to garnish the diet drink, before running them to the table.

The girl’s eyes widen at the drink Kate places in front of her and she opens her mouth to say something, but Kate shakes her head.

"It’s diet," she says, before turning to give the boyfriend an icy look, "and it’s on the house." 

She walks away, leaving the two gaping after her. They haven’t seen anything yet.

Kate quickly picks up their food and runs it to them, placing the burger deluxe in front of the guy and the salad and fries in front of the girl, who blushes.

"I…I didn’t order—"

"I know," Kate says. "They’re also on the house. A girl needs more than rabbit food for sustenance, trust me. I eat these all the time.”

The girl’s eyes widen, taking in Kate’s gorgeous figure. “You do?” she asks. Kate grins, nodding.

"Uh-huh," she says. "And I don’t do it for any boy, either.” She glares at the boyfriend, whose face is beat red, and saunters away, back towards the bar, finding the young man done with his soda. “Need a refill?” she asks, picking up her tip from two other customers who’d just left and placing their payment into the register. 

"No thanks," he answers. "You almost done for the night?"

"Uh…yeah," she answers, grinning. "My shift ends…now. I just have to do one more thing." She closes the register and walks towards Lanie, who’s just placing the last plate on the family table and wishing them a good meal.

"Hey, Lane," she greets, "can you cover table three? I’ve already served them; you can take the tip. Same goes for the guy at the bar who’s about to leave."

"Oh, but don’t you need the money right now? You want that bike, don’t you?" she asks.

"I’ve got all summer to get that bike," Kate says. "You only have one more year to collect for med school, and you’ll still be drowned in debt.”

"What about Law school?"

"Mom and Dad have already promised to stop eating fast food until I graduate. Plus, Grandpa had a college fund set up for me in his will. I’m covered. So stop arguing and take the damn money."

Lanie cackles. “You rock, girl.”

"I know," Kate sighs, walking away while her friend laughs after her.

Untying her apron, Kate steps into the kitchen, moving towards the lockers in the back. She removes it and shoves it into her own locker and closes it before clocking out and grabbing her jacket from the coat rack, slipping it on as she steps out into the diner. The young man throws a ten on the counter—for a two dollar drink—and walks up to her.

"Want a ride home?" he asks. Kate eyes him warily. "My intentions are completely pure," he promises. "I’ll even show you my license and registration and let you call my mom."

Kate snorts. “Okay,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Let’s go.”

He grins and leads her out of the diner.

"What’s your name, anyway?" Kate asks as they walk down the street.

"Richard Alexander Rodgers," he replies, "but you can call me Castle."

"Castle?" Kate asks. "How do you get Castle out of that?"

"It’s my pen name," Castle replies. "I use it when I’m writing."

"You write?" Kate asks, surprised. "What an amazing coincidence."

"Why?" he asks. "You write too?"

"No," she says, grinning, "I read."

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re funny,” he says. “Didn’t expect that.”

"Why?" she asks. "Pretty girls can’t be funny?"

“‘Course they can,” he insists, “I just don’t meet a lot of them.”

"Sounds pretty dull," Kate comments.

"It is," Castle sighs. "That’s why I’m glad I met you." Kate snorts. "What?"

"That is so cheesy!" she laughs.

"But it worked, didn’t it?" Kate doesn’t answer; she bites back a grin. "I thought so."

He stops and so does she. He turns to a parked motorcycle and she gasps as he pulls out a set of keys and unlocks them with a remote control.

"You drive a motorcycle?" she asks, her eyes wide. He grins, nodding.

"That I do," he says, reaching down to pick up two hidden helmets. He hands her one and she puts it on. 

"A Harley softtail 1994," she sighs, "a beaut."

"My baby," Castle replies, stroking a hand over the seat. Kate snorts and shakes her head. Castle offers her a hand to help her onto the seat. She takes it and hops on. Castle steadies the bike and climbs on himself, sitting in front of her. 

Kate immediately wraps her arms around his waist as he revs the engine. “Hold on tight!” he tells her. She tightens her grip and he kicks off from the ground, pulling out into traffic.

Kate’s hair, which she’d taken out of her ponytail, whips behind her, falling out from beneath the helmet, and she grins, relaxing into the soothing summer air. Soon, she thinks, this will be her.

Castle’s voice cuts through her thoughts. “So where do you gotta go, anyway?” he asks. 

"Actually," she calls back, "I don’t have to be home until midnight; we have two hours to spare."

"Wanna go for a ride?" he asks, grinning.

"Duh!" Kate says, chuckling.

"Hold on!" He presses down on the gas and she squeezes tighter as they pick up speed, weaving in and out of traffic. 

For over an hour, they ride all over Manhattan, racing through Central Park and buzzing down Broadway before Kate finally points him in the direction of her apartment. They stop at a park nearby for a few more moments of freedom before they have to say goodbye. They lean against his bike as they talk.

"So…you write, huh?" Kate says, once she removes her helmet, shaking off her helmet hair. "You don’t look much like a writer."

"Writers can’t be ruggedly handsome?" he asks, grinning. Kate rolls her eyes.

"Not the ones I’ve met," she retorts.

"Sounds pretty dull," he replies. She laughs. 

"It is," he agrees, smiling down at her. "What about you? What do you wanna do for a living? I assume it’s not waiting on tables."

"You assume right," Kate replies. "I want to be the first female Chief Justice. You know, Law school and all that."

"That sounds interesting," Castle says, genuinely. "Your mom’s a lawyer?"

"Mom and dad," Kate says, nodding. "How did you know?"

"Research for a book. Kids usually choose a similar path their parents took and it’s usually the one whose gender they match up with."

"Interesting…your dad a writer?"

"I wouldn’t know," Castle replies, shrugging. "Never met him."

"Oh, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—"

"No, it’s fine," he insists. "I’m over it. Besides, as a writer, I can make him be anything that I want, you know. He can be a secret agent, a gang leader, a superhero…the real thing probably wouldn’t even match up. So I’m good with not knowing."

Kate smiles up at him, biting her lip. “Well, no matter who he is,” she says, “he’s made a pretty great kid.”

Castle grins back. “I am pretty great, aren’t I?” he says, cheekily. “You know, I’ve also got a few other talents.”

"Oh yeah," Kate questions, flirtingly, "like what?"

"Well, I can fence, play piano, and I’m a damn good chef—I’d have to be or else my mother probably would have poisoned me long ago. And…I’m a pretty good kisser."

Kate grins at that, rolling her eyes. “Oh yeah?” she asks, looking up at him from underneath her lashes. “Prove it.”

Castle grins down at her, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her body against his. Kate gasps, but the sound swallowed by Castle’s lips as he slants them down over hers. Kate moans into his mouth, her arms winding up around his neck. Castle’s hands grip her waist as his tongue invades her mouth.

Kate’s mouth opens for him and she leans more heavily against his body, her knees suddenly having gone weak, in some sort of cheesy cinema-esque cliche.

When they pull back, both are breathless. Castle grins, placing his forehead against hers. “How’d I do?” he asks.

"You have clearly been overestimating yourself," Kate teases. "I think you need a lot more practice.”

"Well, maybe you can help me with that," Castle replies, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

"Sounds like a plan," she replies, leaning into to kiss him again.

The end.

A PSA About Reviewing Fics

castlefanfics:

So I used to be one of those people that never reviewed the fics I read. It took me a while before I even created an account and started following and favouriting fics, mostly because I was so new at the whole thing.

But I am writing this to try and get more people to start reviewing the fics they have read. 

It wasn’t really until I started this blog and started talking to the many wonderful authors out there that I properly started reviewing many fics.

I mean who was I? A random person from Australia, not really in the fandom, what did it matter if I reviewed or not? 

But let me tell you, from what I have seen, and I can only speak from a reader/observer perspective, reviewing is important, and here is some advice/information about reviewing:

Read More

mandopony:

andreweliam:

sweeeetastea:

This is what it means to age gracefully…

God save the queen

I’m sick of the media telling us women can only be beautiful during a very tiny portion of their lives. Look at this amazing person, and tell me she hasn’t always been and remains to this day drop dead gorgeous.

Ladies, you’re always and forever beautiful. Remember that.

I’m not saying that beauty is the most important thing, I’m only saying your age will never steal it from you. So just keep rockin’ it.

cassbones:

"The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout…"
The soft-spoken words pierced through Kate’s subconscious as she slowly became aware of her surroundings.
"Down came the rain and washed the spider out…"
She caught sight of a mussed mop of brown hair down by her belly and felt a slight weight on her bare abdomen.
"Out came the sun and dried up all the rain…"
"Castle?" Kate mumbled. "What are you—"
His blue eyes peeked up at her and he held a finger to his lips, before looking back down at her bare belly.
"And the itsy-bitsy spider went up the spout again." When the song was over, he laid a sweet kiss over her belly button, which made Kate giggle.
"That tickles!" she laughed. He smiled up at her and crawled up the bed to lay a kiss on her lips.
"Good morning, Beautiful," he whispered against her lips.
She smiled. “Good morning,” she replied. “Why were you singing to my stomach at…” she looked at the clock on the bedside table and groaned, “five in the morning?”
"I was singing to our baby," he said, as if it were obvious. Kate narrowed her eyes at him.
"I’m not pregnant," she said, "unless…is this your way of telling me I’m getting fat?"
"What? No!" Castle exclaimed, backpedaling. "Of course not! You’re just as physically-fit as you’ve always been. It’s just…"
"What?" Kate asked, lifting one brow.
"Wouldn’t it be nice?" Castle said, smiling. "If you were pregnant? With my child? Wouldn’t it be nice if there were a little baby in there that came out  with my eyes and your beautiful smile and golden hair? And I would wake you every morning singing to that gorgeous little baby? Wouldn’t it?”
Kate smiled softly, leaning in to give her fiance another sweet kiss. “Yes,” she said against his lips, “it would be. But I’m on the pill, babe. I don’t think there’ll be any of that happening anytime soon…at least, not until after we’re married, okay?”
Castle nodded in understanding. “I can see why you would want to wait,” he said, “but, just so you know, Meredith was on the pill when Alexis was conceived.”
He scampered off the bed before she could grab his ear for bringing up one of his exes in bed—which was strictly against one of Kate’s imposed “rules”—and hurried out of the room, leaving Kate glaring at his glorious backside, which he’d forgotten to cover up after their little post-case ‘celebration’ last night.
Kate rolled her eyes and laid back on the bed, her hands resting over her flat stomach, just under her bellybutton.
"Baby," she said, "you’re daddy is a goof ball, but I’m sure you’ll love him." She smiled softly to herself, before standing, grabbing Castle’s shirt from the chair next to their bed, and sliding it on as she walked out of the room in search of her man-child.

cassbones:

"The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout…"

The soft-spoken words pierced through Kate’s subconscious as she slowly became aware of her surroundings.

"Down came the rain and washed the spider out…"

She caught sight of a mussed mop of brown hair down by her belly and felt a slight weight on her bare abdomen.

"Out came the sun and dried up all the rain…"

"Castle?" Kate mumbled. "What are you—"

His blue eyes peeked up at her and he held a finger to his lips, before looking back down at her bare belly.

"And the itsy-bitsy spider went up the spout again." When the song was over, he laid a sweet kiss over her belly button, which made Kate giggle.

"That tickles!" she laughed. He smiled up at her and crawled up the bed to lay a kiss on her lips.

"Good morning, Beautiful," he whispered against her lips.

She smiled. “Good morning,” she replied. “Why were you singing to my stomach at…” she looked at the clock on the bedside table and groaned, “five in the morning?”

"I was singing to our baby," he said, as if it were obvious. Kate narrowed her eyes at him.

"I’m not pregnant," she said, "unless…is this your way of telling me I’m getting fat?"

"What? No!" Castle exclaimed, backpedaling. "Of course not! You’re just as physically-fit as you’ve always been. It’s just…"

"What?" Kate asked, lifting one brow.

"Wouldn’t it be nice?" Castle said, smiling. "If you were pregnant? With my child? Wouldn’t it be nice if there were a little baby in there that came out  with my eyes and your beautiful smile and golden hair? And I would wake you every morning singing to that gorgeous little baby? Wouldn’t it?”

Kate smiled softly, leaning in to give her fiance another sweet kiss. “Yes,” she said against his lips, “it would be. But I’m on the pill, babe. I don’t think there’ll be any of that happening anytime soon…at least, not until after we’re married, okay?”

Castle nodded in understanding. “I can see why you would want to wait,” he said, “but, just so you know, Meredith was on the pill when Alexis was conceived.”

He scampered off the bed before she could grab his ear for bringing up one of his exes in bed—which was strictly against one of Kate’s imposed “rules”—and hurried out of the room, leaving Kate glaring at his glorious backside, which he’d forgotten to cover up after their little post-case ‘celebration’ last night.

Kate rolled her eyes and laid back on the bed, her hands resting over her flat stomach, just under her bellybutton.

"Baby," she said, "you’re daddy is a goof ball, but I’m sure you’ll love him." She smiled softly to herself, before standing, grabbing Castle’s shirt from the chair next to their bed, and sliding it on as she walked out of the room in search of her man-child.

“I can’t solve my life in ten minutes in a hotel room. But, even though I don’t have all the answers, I do know a few things after this week. Like, I know we are good together. You make me laugh. You shake me out of my earnestness and task-orientation. You’re the only one I ever met who also gets bugged by missing commas.” She laughed.
Raging Heat, Richard Castle (via alwayswritewithcoffee)

p-alindrome:

let me just say a few things about ‘all about that bass’ real quick

  1. it’s a song about body positivity and we don’t get many of those so can we just take that into consideration please
  2. i know people are kicking off about her using the phrase “skinny bitches” but she does follow it up with "no, i’m just playing i know you think you’re fat / but i’m here to tell you that / every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top"  she’s taken an insult commonly given to slim women and basically a said so what if you are skinny/skinny but you think you’re fat, YOU’RE STILL PERFECT 
  3. i’ve seen shit loads of people saying it makes them feel more confident, and slim women get a ton of media reinforcing the idea that their body is perfect anyway
  4. IT’S CATCHY AS FUCK 
bustygirlcomics:

Snow-one knows.
(10)

bustygirlcomics:

Snow-one knows.

(10)

unbitrium:

offside-goal:

tales-of-a-clutsy-ninja:

BUSTY GIRL PROBLEMS

THIS IS AWFUL I’M NOT EVEN THAT BUSTY AND THIS IS MY EVERYDAY LIFE SCREW U BOOBS

I thought balls were bad but this post made me realizer girls how do you even live with dumbbells growing out of your chest obstructing everything girls are strong and not to be messed with

why-am-i-narrating:

morgiesan:

lcrell:

I don’t know who’s biting whose lip in this scene, but I adore it.

^^ This.

Both. Both is good.

why-am-i-narrating:

morgiesan:

lcrell:

I don’t know who’s biting whose lip in this scene, but I adore it.

^^ This.

Both. Both is good.

alwayswritewithcoffee:

nic6879:

(…this needs a Castle stamp… 😇)

I don’t have a stamp, but I DO have a fic. 28 Days Fic Challenge: Day 11 
They had made an agreement. It had been forged in late night conversations and around the kitchen island at breakfast over a span of two weeks. It had been born from anxiety, the type that was only born from the burden of purchasing gifts for someone who could afford to buy nearly everything they wanted and, ostensibly, had everything they needed. 
That was Kate’s burden in buying gifts for Castle. Be it birthday, anniversary, or Christmas, she invariably agonized over all of them. Not that he was hard to please, the opposite was true, but that it was incredibly difficult to please herself with tokens of, what she felt, should be representative of their relationship and life together. 
He had relented easily enough to her request. No wedding presents. The ceremony, the extravagant honeymoon and their three weeks of uninterrupted leisure were more than enough. She had a diamond engagement ring and a platinum wedding band as reminders of the day. Anything else was unnecessary.
 But piles of presents were expected. Towers of them lined tables and across the foyer of the Hamptons estate. They’d done their best to put them away, to erase any markers of the ceremony, but it had been hasty. She’d gone to shower, to strip away her mother’s ruined dress and put on the armor of Kate Beckett, NYPD Homicide Detective. Years of therapy and progress had stuttered with her retreat to what was her default setting in a crisis. 
She didn’t back down, she bowed up. Arming herself with functional practicality and finding a problem to solve. That was how she coped. 
And they had hidden the reminders by shoving them into closets, locking the doors of unused rooms with the adage ‘out of sight, out of mind’. It didn’t really matter that it wasn’t true. None of them were going to forget the missing piece of their lives. 
It was too quite, for one. No boundless bright ball of energy and words to keep them entertained. Just silence, a gaping hole where a father, son, husband, and friend was meant to be. 
In the immediate aftermath she never noticed the small white box. Perhaps once it had been placed neatly on the bed, meant to be within her line of sight to entice her into tugging at the soft dove-gray ribbon. But it had gotten lost, been shifted in the emotional trauma, discarded and unused. 
The box reveals itself after a week of dead ends and heartbreak. They’ve searched every potential lead, interviewed the same endless loop of people over and over. She’s called in every favor and promised more than a few but the case, Castle’s case, has gone cold. 
She’s packing when she finds the box, her toe nudging against its edge with her haphazard tossing of clothes into a suitcase. 
Curiosity demands she pick it up. The effortless scrawl of her name on the creamy white name tag dictate she open it; heart lodged in her throat because Kate knows.
The handwriting, the careful detail in the tying of the bow - its from Castle. He broke the rules.
She’s careful in opening the lid, fingers gingerly pulling away the gray tissue paper until she can lift the mug out.
The fact it’s a coffee mug doesn’t escape her. Instead, the steady staccato of her heart kicks up a notch as the swell of emotion kicks her swiftly in the gut. He bought her a coffee mug, something practical and useable.
Before she ever reads the words, she’s overwhelmed. There’s a prick of tears threatening at the back of her eyes, and they spill forward as she reads the words painted onto the side.  
They aren’t his words; Kate is fairly certain of that, but they are no less true because she can imagine it. In crystal clear technicolor, she can see his twinkling blue eyes and that tiny, lop-sided grin. His voice tickles at her ears when she imagines him reading the message to her, how he would draw her against his chest and let her rest there for a moment. And he’d kiss her, undoubtedly, one of those gentle, soft presses of their lips. Sweet confirmation of their devotion and mutual love. 
It makes her ache for him, tears blurring her vision until the moisture breaks free to trail down her cheeks. Like a wave crashing to shore, the pent up emotion finally releases and it doubles her over onto the bed where the mug remains her lifeline. 
It anchors her to reality, a talisman against the current of grief and darkness that could so easily drag her under. 
But the tears eventually slow, their only trace in the swollen patches of skin under her eyes. For once, Kate feels stronger as she untangles her body from its grip on the cup. She’s not quite so lost when she moves back to her suitcase, drops the final few items into it to complete her packing for a return to the city. 
The cup goes with her, a silent sentry for the days and weeks that follow. Her ever present reminder that Castle loves her, that she will get him back and they’ll have their happy ending. 
It’s months after he’s home before she brings the cup back out, tenderly wrapping it in gray paper and a white box. Like Castle did before, Kate recruits Alexis for the delivery, his name written in elegant cursive on a creamy white tag. 
But this time its different. This time there is no kidnapping, no afternoon filled with flames. Instead it’s quiet and unassuming, her in a simple white dress and Castle in a tux. 
And the cup? Well, it’s how they take their first toast as husband and wife, by sharing a cup of coffee.

alwayswritewithcoffee:

nic6879:

(…this needs a Castle stamp… 😇)

I don’t have a stamp, but I DO have a fic. 28 Days Fic Challenge: Day 11 

They had made an agreement. It had been forged in late night conversations and around the kitchen island at breakfast over a span of two weeks. It had been born from anxiety, the type that was only born from the burden of purchasing gifts for someone who could afford to buy nearly everything they wanted and, ostensibly, had everything they needed. 

That was Kate’s burden in buying gifts for Castle. Be it birthday, anniversary, or Christmas, she invariably agonized over all of them. Not that he was hard to please, the opposite was true, but that it was incredibly difficult to please herself with tokens of, what she felt, should be representative of their relationship and life together. 

He had relented easily enough to her request. No wedding presents. The ceremony, the extravagant honeymoon and their three weeks of uninterrupted leisure were more than enough. She had a diamond engagement ring and a platinum wedding band as reminders of the day. Anything else was unnecessary.

 But piles of presents were expected. Towers of them lined tables and across the foyer of the Hamptons estate. They’d done their best to put them away, to erase any markers of the ceremony, but it had been hasty. She’d gone to shower, to strip away her mother’s ruined dress and put on the armor of Kate Beckett, NYPD Homicide Detective. Years of therapy and progress had stuttered with her retreat to what was her default setting in a crisis. 

She didn’t back down, she bowed up. Arming herself with functional practicality and finding a problem to solve. That was how she coped. 

And they had hidden the reminders by shoving them into closets, locking the doors of unused rooms with the adage ‘out of sight, out of mind’. It didn’t really matter that it wasn’t true. None of them were going to forget the missing piece of their lives. 

It was too quite, for one. No boundless bright ball of energy and words to keep them entertained. Just silence, a gaping hole where a father, son, husband, and friend was meant to be. 

In the immediate aftermath she never noticed the small white box. Perhaps once it had been placed neatly on the bed, meant to be within her line of sight to entice her into tugging at the soft dove-gray ribbon. But it had gotten lost, been shifted in the emotional trauma, discarded and unused. 

The box reveals itself after a week of dead ends and heartbreak. They’ve searched every potential lead, interviewed the same endless loop of people over and over. She’s called in every favor and promised more than a few but the case, Castle’s case, has gone cold. 

She’s packing when she finds the box, her toe nudging against its edge with her haphazard tossing of clothes into a suitcase. 

Curiosity demands she pick it up. The effortless scrawl of her name on the creamy white name tag dictate she open it; heart lodged in her throat because Kate knows.

The handwriting, the careful detail in the tying of the bow - its from Castle. He broke the rules.

She’s careful in opening the lid, fingers gingerly pulling away the gray tissue paper until she can lift the mug out.

The fact it’s a coffee mug doesn’t escape her. Instead, the steady staccato of her heart kicks up a notch as the swell of emotion kicks her swiftly in the gut. He bought her a coffee mug, something practical and useable.

Before she ever reads the words, she’s overwhelmed. There’s a prick of tears threatening at the back of her eyes, and they spill forward as she reads the words painted onto the side.  

They aren’t his words; Kate is fairly certain of that, but they are no less true because she can imagine it. In crystal clear technicolor, she can see his twinkling blue eyes and that tiny, lop-sided grin. His voice tickles at her ears when she imagines him reading the message to her, how he would draw her against his chest and let her rest there for a moment. And he’d kiss her, undoubtedly, one of those gentle, soft presses of their lips. Sweet confirmation of their devotion and mutual love. 

It makes her ache for him, tears blurring her vision until the moisture breaks free to trail down her cheeks. Like a wave crashing to shore, the pent up emotion finally releases and it doubles her over onto the bed where the mug remains her lifeline. 

It anchors her to reality, a talisman against the current of grief and darkness that could so easily drag her under. 

But the tears eventually slow, their only trace in the swollen patches of skin under her eyes. For once, Kate feels stronger as she untangles her body from its grip on the cup. She’s not quite so lost when she moves back to her suitcase, drops the final few items into it to complete her packing for a return to the city. 

The cup goes with her, a silent sentry for the days and weeks that follow. Her ever present reminder that Castle loves her, that she will get him back and they’ll have their happy ending. 

It’s months after he’s home before she brings the cup back out, tenderly wrapping it in gray paper and a white box. Like Castle did before, Kate recruits Alexis for the delivery, his name written in elegant cursive on a creamy white tag. 

But this time its different. This time there is no kidnapping, no afternoon filled with flames. Instead it’s quiet and unassuming, her in a simple white dress and Castle in a tux. 

And the cup? Well, it’s how they take their first toast as husband and wife, by sharing a cup of coffee.

sexy-fruit:

THIS

sexy-fruit:

THIS