and that i haven't made any fails along the way as to what not to do

i’ve tried to stay silent on this whole thing and i always try to avoid the chris antis because i can’t be bothered with them most of the time but this has gone way too far and i’ve had enough and this is all i’m saying on it.

this is dedicated to EVERYONE who is dragging chris wood and calling him a homophobe because of a quote that is going round that has been taking out of context and failed to actually post the whole quote. WATCH the video before calling him out because i’ve seen and spoken to so many people who have “cancelled” chris wood just because of the quote that is going round and then when i’ve showed them the video they’ve said “oh… he didn’t do anything wrong”
did he say the quote that’s going round? YES. but was that all he said? NO. he said it in a sarcastic tone and then said it was sarcasm (with the intention to be sarcastic when he said it, not just say something shitty and then blame it on sarcasm or say it was a joke) it was OBVIOUSLY sarcasm, he OBVIOUSLY disagrees with what he said which is why he said it SARCASTICALLY, he was mocking the fact that some people actually think they have the right to tell people what their sexualities are. You are ALL agreeing with him. his point is still valid just because it was done sarcastically.

he didn’t interrupt katie at all and she actually laughed at the comment (again, watch the video, that’s just a fact) and then she later made the same point that he had previously made except she didn’t do it in a sarcastic way. they both made exactly the same point!!

as for the song video… people saying shit like chris was singing along or laughing his ass off, WATCH THE VIDEO (not the one above but it’s the recap video on MTV’s youtube, idk if some of y'all know that seeing as most of you haven’t even seen the video you’re just going on what people say) which isn’t fair because this fandom is BIASED to hating everything chris does and have since he first appeared on SG.

chris was THE ONLY cast member to not laugh during the song. THE ONLY one. katie laughed (she was in fact laughing her ass off that she was practically crying), david laughed, odette laughed, mehcad was singing along and obviously it was jeremy and melissa who sang the song. he looked uncomfortable for the whole part of the song about supercorp.

if you want to hate chris just because you hate him or because he doesn’t hate karamel or because he said once that mon-el was a good guy or because he sang (along with most of the cast) a song about daxam, if you really want to hate him because of any of those reasons then just fucking own up to it. don’t call him homophobic because you think that justifies hating him more than the reasons listed above.

i’m not going to make this about why chris shouldn’t even be hated because that’s a whole other thing. ive tried again and again with people and at the end of the day people just want to hate chris. i’ve actually seen people ADMIT that chris didn’t really do anything wrong but “oh well i’ve never liked the guy” so let’s post this out of context quote and call him a homophobe so everyone who isn’t in the sg fandom hates him with us

also to all the people i’m blatantly going to have coming at me i am NOT saying anything about the other cast members or what happened with the song this is solely about chris and what actually happened, and the video proves it so this isn’t for a fight.

anonymous asked:

May I put in a request where Class 1-A finds out Midoriya isn't a virgin and he thinks it's a normal thing while some kids haven't even had their first kiss yet? idk thought it waa funny to see their reactions

OKAY BUT WOW THIS WAS FUN AS HECK!  (๑ÒωÓ๑) hope you enjoy!! This is what I came up with after reading the request!~

“Truth or dare, Deku!” Bakugo spat, slamming his fist on the coffee table. Everyone in class 1-A decided to hangout on their off day. Training had been extra rough and everyone just needed a break but easily getting bored, Ashido asked if anyone wanted in on a game of Truth or Dare! Being as competitive as they were, even Bakugo agreed to play along, if he started of course. “Hurry up and pick you bastard!” he glared, getting easily impatient, he wanted Midoriya to pick dare so badly, it made him smile sadistically.

Knowing this hothead, Izuku gulped down the nervousness and replied, “Truth.” Better to be safe than sorry, he was terrified of what Bakugo would force him to do with his horrible mind. Bakugo’s eyebrow twitched hard, his eyes straining from the glare he was throwing the other boy, pissed that he chose the wrong answer.

“Screw this crap. Let me know if someone wants to pick dare and I’ll wreck ‘em! Until then, I’m fucking out of here…. lame ass game.” Bakugo didn’t want to know anything about anyone, so unless they were going to play dare or dare, he wasn’t interested. The last thing on his mind was worrying about anything secret regarding his classmates, he only wanted weaknesses or insecurities that affected their quirks, nothing else. The hothead moved into the kitchen for a snack, leaving everyone dumbfounded but not surprised.

“….Okay, I’ll go for him instead!” Ashido perked up, since it was her idea she wanted to go first. “Since you already chose, you can’t take it back! So here weeeee go~ Deku!” she paused for dramatic effect and lifted an arm and pointed directly at Izuku.“….are you aaa— virgin!?” the moment that question flowed out of the smirking pink girl everyone went silent. Even Bakugo who passed by again to go to his room.

Blasphemy!” Iida screamed louder than the rest of the blushing and frantic teens, everyone had a blush to their cheeks at the question but it was Izuku’s whose face was the reddest. “Wha-Wha-What kind of lewd diversion is this!? True or dare this is not!” Iida’s arms went wild, anyone near him would get chopped by stiff hands instantly. Todoroki’s face was less serious than normal, brows lifted up with surprise and a slightly open mouth, he was unsure on how he should act or what to say with such a conversation.

“Shut it four eyes! I need to know the answer to thisss!” Mineta’s appearance with any mention of lewdness never failed. He wasn’t invited to play the game but here he was! “there’s no way anyone wo—-” “I-I’m not!”

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!?” Everyone in the room screamed loudly all in unison, even Bakugo!

Aoyama covered his mouth, looking at everyone’s reaction. “W-Whoa, Midoriya… seriously you’ve….gotten in someone’s pants?” Kirishima asked, his eyes going wide while he turned to the hiding Izuku. Who’s face was pushed into a pillow from the couch, attempting to hide from this dreaded conversation. This was a game? He never remembered any game involving his sexual life before.

Sero and Kaminari stared at one another shocked by the results, they hadn’t even had their first kiss yet! “No way! Seriously! Like really, really!?” Hagakure pushed, her invisible hands grabbing at the pillow to remove it from his strengthened grip. Bakugo rejoined the group with a sandwich on a plate in one hand, stomping over to Izuku and snatched the pillow from him with his free hand easily, a deep glare being thrown his way. Yaoyorozu and Jiro helped Asui with patting the sad Uraraka, who wasn’t the happiest hearing the results. Tokoyami, Shoji, Ojiro, Koda and Sato all lifted from their spots on the couch and immediately began to leave the room, one after the other.

“Deku you goddamn liar!” Bakugo snapped, “all our childhood and not a single person gave you any attention! WHO would fuck YOU?!” his words came out with rabid growls, he was still a virgin sure but at least he’s kissed someone, no way Izuku would surpass him sexually, Bakugo was much better looking and physically fit!

Scoffing at the hothead’s words, Izuku glared back up at Bakugo intently, “I-I’m not.” he stated again more calmly this time, “it was recent…. v-very recent…but it did happened.” Bakugo stepped back, shocked and crushed at the words he was hearing, how could stupid weak Deku actually lose his virginity first? Sure, Bakugo didn’t worry about having sex due to his passion to be a hero. But he still didn’t like Izuku surpassing him with anything at all.

“Good job at loosing Midoriya.” Todoroki chimed in, thinking those words were proper enough.

Nemesis Mine

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Chapter 10. Baz.

It’s him. Simon is Snow. Simon Snow.

How could I have been so stupid? How could I have trusted him? Fuck. (How could he have made me fall for him?)

It makes so much sense, I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. His mother died when he was born. Lucy Salisbury. Of course. He’s always coming back to the room with scratches and bruises that he explains away with the most inane stories. Which might not have been such a huge clue in itself if it wasn’t for the fact that I’ve been doing the exact same thing. Fuck, that should have clued me in. How could I have missed that?

His family is responsible for my mother’s death. And I’ve been snogging him and sleeping in his arms for the last week.

I hate him. I hate him so much. Why does he have to ruin everything? I should have known Simon was too good to be true. Why couldn’t I have this one thing in my normal life, that should have been completely irrelevant to my alter ego, that should have had nothing to do with Snow, and of course it turns out to be him all along. That’s just the way my life goes, isn’t it? All I do is lose.

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anonymous asked:

either 4 or 15 with garrus/shep! (also sorry i haven't been able to read any of ur recent stuff!! i haven't been able to play andromeda yet and i'm avoiding spoilers)

[I decided to combine them both- a drunken kiss and a ‘hope we don’t get caught’ kiss. Still accepting Shakarian prompts. Hope you like. <3] 

“You know, Shepard, there is something I’ve always wanted to do.” It was that time of night when things had finally wound down, the party thrown for Garrus’s birthday over, everyone either passed out in adjacent rooms or struggling to walk home, too drunk to see straight. Shepard lay sprawled on the couch, head in Garrus’ lap as he played with her hair, running it through her fingers. Both were pleasantly soused, not ready to go to bed but limbs too heavy to do much else.

Eyes half-closed, Shepard made a small grunt of pleasure at the sensation of fingers along her scalp. “What’s that?” Hell, she could indulge him today. “If it’s another shooting contest, I just want you to know that I’ll win this time.” If she could even hold a gun steady; it really could go either way right about now.

“You know that big podium the council sits at?” Garrus wriggled out from beneath her, leaving Shepard’s head to rest on the considerably softer cushions. Not a bad trade-off, but she was going to fall asleep if she didn’t try to right herself, sitting upright in a staggered movement that left her half-leaning over the arm of the couch, watching Garrus pace the room in increased excitement, a lazy smile spreading across her features.

“The one they look down on us from? Yah, I know it.” Her hand reached for more to drink, but they’d run out a while ago, and she was too tired or too lazy to get up and find something at the bar.

Standing before the fire place, Garrus spread his arms wide. “Let’s go there. I have an idea.” He was already trying to pull Shepard upright, both of them laughing when her legs refused to cooperate.

“Right now? Sure, why not.” No one would be around at this hour; any guards patrolling could easily be convinced to turn their head the other way for Commander Shepard and Garrus Vakarian, heroes of the Citadel, and the autocab shuttle they took over wasn’t about to ask any questions.

They spilled out of it like a couple of drunk teenagers, trying to stifle each other’s laughter and failing utterly. A single door lay between them and their goal; Garrus bent over it for a moment, and it whooshed open softly. “Never bothered to change the codes since I was in CSEC,” he said with a noise of satisfaction.

In the dimmed lights of Citadel night, the room was cavernous and eerie, even more so than usual. There weren’t even any Keepers around; Garrus and Shepard were truly alone, following each other in increasingly dramatic, sneaking steps whose effect was ruined utterly by the giggling. Starlight trickled in from the windows behind the Council’s row of seats, dramatic pinpricks that stippled plants and floor alike, spreading across Shepard’s skin and Garrus’ carapace in a diffuse pattern.

Much of it was ruined by the slightly spinning world, the haze of alcohol softening edges and adding unreality to the scene, a heavy overlay that Shepard had no desire to clear. Her head was in a good place right now; when was the last time she was allowed to sit down and just celebrate something like a normal person? Garrus deserved everything for his birthday, so if he wanted to break into the damn Council, they would.

“Now what?” They were here, and… It wasn’t the most exciting, actually, once the thrill of the illicit wore off. She’d broken into better places than this.

Not answering, Garrus gently tugged her arm, pulling Shepard up to the podium and standing there with her. A single shaft of light, a reflection off solar panels or some other metallic piece of the station, bathed them both in a cool glow, a silver aura that she was just drunk enough to find romantic, rather than corny bullshit. Well, it still was corny bullshit, but she felt entitled to it every once in a while.

“You ever have vids running through your head of desecrating this place? You know what I mean.” Garrus could pitch even his rumbly turian voice to a lower octave, suggestion stopping just short of obviously leering.

Shepard couldn’t resist the invitation, or how endearingly awkward Garrus was whenever he suggested something remotely inappropriate, his reference point always falling back to vids. “Can’t say that I have, Garrus, but now I do.” What better way to say ‘screw you’ to the Council? Not that they’d ever see- if they had cams here, Shepard could get it all deleted by tomorrow morning, before anyone even saw. Or she could save them for their own private use. Either way. Raising an eyebrow at Garrus, she gestured to him- make your next move, cowboy.

With a distinctly drunken saunter, Garrus took a few steps to Shepard and then pulled her closer. They didn’t kiss often, both because they weren’t people prone to PDA and because their anatomies weren’t always complimentary, but when they did, sparks flew (metaphorically, unless Shepard had any metal near her face, and then it could possibly be literally.) Being drunk didn’t actually improve things much, except to make them both more into it, wandering hands and all, an exchange of tongues, blue on pink, that was probably faintly off putting if anyone had been watching. Luckily, they were safe in that regard.

Breaking for air, and to feel another rush of residual alcohol, they leaned together for a moment, Garrus guiding Shepard over to the long desk the Council sat behind, helping her perch on the edge. “Good birthday?” she murmured.

“Best in the whole damn Citadel.”

anonymous asked:

You said lucio/symmetra was your ultimate otp...i'm intrigued by it but since there's so little around I haven't fully gotten into it! Could you share some of your thoughts on it o: ? i'm definitely interested on what you think their dynamic is like! I know you said you wanted people to tell you about their ships but I can't stop wondering about this ship since you mentioned it...

ur all horrible enablers, shame on u

If I put all my feelings about this ship in a book, it’d look like that book where that one dude printed out all of Wikipedia, so instead have some headcanons I have on their dynamic (and also this turned out a bit longer than anticipated)

  • They’re way more similar than they think they are and everytime someone points it out they both argue like siblings when someone tells them they look alike.

  • Like, let me give a brief description and you try to guess whom I’m talking about: Super idealistic, believes in a better world for everyone. Wants to make people’s lives better and cares deeply about the suffering of others. Comes from a very poor family but has risen above that by virtue of their talents. An artist and uses their artistic skill in their fighting style. Has strong ideals and is prepared to face overwhelming opposition for them.

  • I think on some level they’re aware of how much they have in common but in the beginning they refuse to face the facts, because they do not want to be associated with someone like that.

  • And they hate each other. And, as everyone knows, hate is an attractional force. It’s not like disgust where you try to stay away from the other person. No, they hate each other and everytime they’re in roughly the same spot (like, a continent) they inevitably end up finding and shouting at each other over everything they could possibly disagree over.

  • And there’s a lot they disagree about and they miraculously find more everytime they argue.

  • If Satya says she likes a movie, Lúcio will hate it by default and argue with her about all the problematic shit in it and of course an evil heartless demon like her would like that movie. If Lúcio dyes his hair blue for Christmas, Satya will change her entire wardrobe because the colour blue is so unsophisticated and simplistic, she can’t be seen dead with it.

  • And there’s a breaking point somewhere, because both of them know they don’t have all the answers and the other isn’t all wrong in their accusations. Lúcio breaks down someday because damn her, Satya is right, the people in his favela are still poor, they are still hungry and thirsty, still sick and unable to pay the hospital bills, still miserable and he doesn’t know how to fix it, and maybe Vishkar would have fixed it and maybe giving up their freedom wouldn’t have been too high a price to pay.

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Agent Lee (Au Fic)

I know there aren’t a lot of Jaspar chaptered fics and when they are, it’s mostly high school ones so I figured to make this into a different type of fic. I wrote this a few years ago for band members and I think it would be better off as Jaspar because of the way I set up everything. You’ll see what I mean! I hope you enjoy and leave me your opinions on it as to if I should continue or just stop.

Title: Agent Lee

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Caspar Lee is one of the top secret agents that Chapman headquarters has. He gets assigned to watch over Joe Sugg, a college student, who is in danger. It just so happens that Caspar ends up falling in love with him.

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Love and other Drugs

Okay, so… This is my second gift for the beautiful and amazing @lilousmustaches - if you haven't noticed yet, hon, I really do love you.
Well, this is my first time ever writing anything Supernatural-related, so I just hope it’s not total crap.
This is a Jensen Ackles x Reader fic, and it’s way bigger than I initially expected, so this is just the first part…
Hope you enjoy!

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anonymous asked:

idk if you have ever watched criminal minds but this article that came out saying other roles that stana could play made me think how awesome it would be to see her on there as a profiler which led to the idea of KB as a profiler and castle being involved too can you pls make this happen if you're interested?

A/N: For those who do not watch Criminal Minds, but still may hold interest in this fill, this ficlet could essentially be considered a ‘Castle and Beckett as FBI agents’ AU. No CM knowledge truly necessary, but may make reading this a little more interesting. 


“Buy you a drink, SSA Beckett?”

Kate rolls her eyes, refuses to lift them from the paperwork strewn across her desk and give Agent Castle the satisfaction of her attention.

“You already know my answer.”

“You know, it’s not against the rules to accept a friendly invitation from your coworker for an innocent-“

“Castle, aren’t you tired of asking me out after every single case?” she sighs, sitting back in her office chair to glare up at him, but Rick merely smiles back, poised atop the edge of her desk with amusement glimmering bright blue in his eyes.

She still wonders how he manages that, how he can face the same horrors and tragedies they do practically every single day and still have that childlike twinkle in his eyes, the charming smile. 

“Tired of me asking you?”

Kate hums, contemplates the answer she already knows before she speaks it aloud. No, she’s far from tired of his persistence. 

They’ve been working on the same team for nearly a year now, since she had shown up on the FBI’s doorstep, a transfer from the NYPD, prepared to start the next chapter of her life with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. What she hadn’t planned for was Richard Castle, a veteran member of the team who had lit up the moment she’d walked into her first morning briefing.

“Not yet,” she decides, accepting the hand Castle holds out to her nonetheless. She never went for drinks with him, that felt too close to more than she was ready for, but her denials often resulted in trips to their favorite diner in DC instead. A consolation prize that he never failed to accept with glee. 

“Then I won’t stop,” he declares, nothing new, and Kate shakes her head, but squeezes his hand as she stands before letting go.

“I commend the tenacity, I suppose,” she teases, bumping his shoulder once she has her messenger bag slung over hers.

Castle grins back at her, walking alongside her out of the bullpen, towards the elevators.

“You’re worth it, Beckett.”


Castle trains his eyes on his partner as she enters the scene ahead of him, their weapons raised and minds alert, but this unsub has had him on edge since they had been briefed on the case yesterday morning, discussed the details on the plane to Boston and been shown the evidence of this man’s brutality.

Women like Kate were just his type - tall, brunette, strong and independent. Jeffery Barnes liked to break women like Kate Beckett, take the control by taking their lives to feel empowered.

“He’s not here,” Beckett mutters, lowering her gun to her side after they’ve swept through the entirety of the abandoned apartment, meeting Rick in the front room.

“Probably figured it wasn’t safe to remain in one place, had to find a new hideout,” Castle sighs, holstering his gun.

“Or he’s out hunting for a new victim,” she mumbles, scraping a hand through her hair, revealing the anxiety that bleeds from her eyes, the stress that stains her features.

“Kate, we’ll get him. We always get them,” he reminds her, stepping in closer to touch her hip, a fleeting graze of his fingers that has her glancing up at him.

The touches they share are rare, innocent, but addictive nonetheless. He’s been with the BAU for seven years, devoting his life to his work, allowing his good deeds to aid in healing the broken parts of him, but nothing could soothe the gaping hole left by the death of his daughter a near decade ago. The ragged edges had scarred over, but the tissue often tore, left him aching and raw more often than not.

But then he had met Supervisory Special Agent Kate Beckett, their newest member, straight from the NYPD after a thirteen year journey of avenging her mother’s death, seeking more. She fit in well, blended effortlessly with their team on and off the field, but it was more than that with him.

When he’d shook her hand on that first day, he had felt sparks for the first time in his life, a current of electricity he had never before experienced brought to life, and despite her refusal to pursue more than friendship, their connection had failed to weaken within the last year. It had only grown.

She knew his grief well, had lived it for so long; she understood in a way no one else ever had, her presence like a balm to those infected edges of his mourning.

The hole his daughter had left would never be filled, just like the matching hollow Kate harbored as well, but she had made him a little less empty. And he swore he could do the same for her.

“Come on, we need to consult Henderson, let him know it was a bust,” she murmurs, snagging his hand from her waist, brushing her thumb to the inside of his wrist, and reaching for the front door.

The shot of a gun explodes through his senses in the next instant, has him immediately withdrawing his own weapon, lurching for Kate at the same time. But she’s already staggering to the floor, clutching her chest where the bullet pierced in the same second that Rick puts a bullet in their unsub, sends him stumbling back out into the hallway, bleeding out against the opposite wall.

“Kate,” he breathes, dropping to his knees beside her, his trembling fingers reaching for the straps of her vest, thanking God for the bulletproof vest.

She wheezes, lifts her palm to the middle of her sternum once he has to kevlar removed from her frame, and releases a long exhale.

“Well, we hadn’t profiled that he’d panic so soon,” she chokes out, grimacing with every word. “Must have felt the walls closing in on him, got delusional-”

“Kate,” he repeats, sliding one of his hands to her nape, curving his palm there to aid in supporting her body in its simple sitting position that appears far too difficult. “I’ll call a paramedic-“

“No,” she rasps, wincing as she takes another deep breath. “Not bad, just - just bruised, Castle.”

“But he - he shot you, he-“ She turns her head to look at him, the furrow in her brow at their unsub’s unpredicted behavior dissipating, her eyes blooming with understanding after a single glance at his face, and then she’s gritting her teeth, shifting to her knees to rise, hook her arm around his neck. “Beckett-“

“I’m okay,” she swears, the heat of her breath drenching his ear, calming him and creating a thundering rhythm of his heartbeat at the same time. “I’m okay, Castle. You won’t - I won’t let you lose me too.”


She hates going undercover, more specifically, she hates going undercover with Castle.

“You know, we’re supposed to be married, so-“


Kate digs her nails into the arm he wraps around her waist and while he tenses with the sting of pain, he fails to release her.

“Just trying to add to the authenticity, honey.”

“Call me honey again and I break your legs, babe.”

She smirks at his gasp, plucks his arm from around her waist and takes his hand, twines their fingers instead. They were infiltrating a cult in Montana that extorted young girls, a group of die hard believers run by a narcissistic psychopath, if their profile was correct. Posing as a newlywed couple, groomed to join the arrangement, gave them a way in to expose the truth, save lives without taking more.

“Why are we always the ones who end up in these predicaments?” Castle muses, sitting with her in the church pew near the back, only half listening to the lecture occurring in the front of the quaint chapel. “Why doesn’t Sheridan or Clyde ever get sent in for this stuff.”

“Because, apparently, we’ve proven to be pretty good at this. Now quiet before the psychopath decides to punish us for talking,” she mutters, elbowing him in the side before relaxing against him, doing her best to pay attention, but all she can think about is the clink of the matching wedding bands they wear each time his thumb strokes along her knuckles.

Of course, it isn’t long before their mission goes south, their cover being blown by an outside source who informs the leader of the cult, Aaron Daniels, that there’s an FBI agent in his midst, and they’ve hardly been on the grounds for a matter of hours before she and Castle are being dragged into a makeshift interrogation room.

“Which one of you is the FBI agent?” Daniels demands, withdrawing his gun from his holster. “Or could it be both of you? A married team?”

“What makes you think one of us is an FBI agent?” Kate inquires, her brow furrowed, but beads of sweat are forming along the back of her neck.

Daniels shakes his head as if in disappointment and lifts the rifle to Beckett’s head.

“God will forgive me for what I must do,” he states, his finger on the trigger, but Kate doesn’t flinch.

Better her than Castle.

“It’s me.” Her eyes fly towards him, her shock apparently a sign of good faith to the madman in front of her, but not for Castle. “It’s me, I’m the agent.”


“It is unfortunate that you’ve put me in this position,” Daniels sighs, drifting away from Kate to the chair on the opposite side of the room, gripping him by the back of his head with his fingers fisted in her partner’s hair, his gun aimed to his temple. “You stay here or your husband dies.”

Castle snags her gaze, gives her a nod, but she has to purse her lips to keep them from trembling as he’s dragged out of the room.

The next time she sees him, an agonizing amount of hours later, the case is over, both of them safe and liberated from the community grounds, but he has a black eye that she can see even in the darkness of the falling night, a split lip, bruises that are still fresh but ready to bloom along his cheek and neck. Their team had stepped in before it became any worse, before Daniels could cause a mass suicide amidst his congregation, and she watches their fellow agents shake Rick’s hand, pat his back, and embrace him carefully, praise him for his sacrifice that she’s still furious over.

She waits for him by the ambulance, waits for him to reach her with his tired eyes and battered body, a punishment she had been ready to take to save him.

He stands in front of her, broken and bruised and with a lopsided grin quirking along his lips, tugging at the vulnerable strings of her heart.

“I hate you,” she whispers, but she buries her face in his neck when he steps forward, wraps her in his arms and nearly lifts her off her feet. “Don’t you ever do that again, Rick Castle. Don’t-“

“I’m fine,” he promises her, his hand stroking down her back, and it’s then that she realizes how hard she’s trembling, her entire frame quivering against him, and Kate holds him tighter.

Clyde is arching an eyebrow at them, Sheridan shooting her a thumbs up, and Henderson pointedly looking the other way, but none of it has her even considering letting him go.

Even though she should. She really should let him go.

“I could have taken it,” she tells him, her lips brushing the heated skin of his neck, slick with sweat and the scent of dried blood. “I would have taken it.”

“I know,” Castle murmurs, drawing back from her, only far enough to meet her gaze. “But you didn’t have to, don’t always have to.”

And with him, she begins to accept, she really doesn’t.


The next time a bullet pierces her chest, she isn’t wearing a vest.

William Bracken was dead, found hanging in his cell in New York earlier that morning, but he hadn’t left without a final attempt at vengeance.

“The ambulance is on its way, Kate,” he promises, cradling the crumpled form of her body in the warehouse.

They had been chasing down a lead, nothing out of the ordinary, tracking what they had assumed was a serial sniper targeting the nation’s capitol. But Bracken had fooled them all, known her team would be called in on this case once the body count grew too high to contain, and all the hired hitman had to do was wait for the opportunity.

Kate’s eyes struggle to slide open, searching for him in the dimness of the room, the spill of red and blue sirens bleeding onto the concrete floors, infusing him with droplets of hope.

“Stay with me, just stay with me a little while longer,” he pleads, stroking her hair back from her face, brushing the lone tear that leaks from the corner of her eye.

She’s fading against him, the blink of her eyes growing slower, the fall of her lashes shadowing her cheeks for seconds too long.

“Let me go,” she rasps, so tired of fighting, but Rick shakes his head, that gaping hole in his chest threatening to tear wide again.

“I can’t, I - I won’t,” he argues, feeling her grip in his jacket going limp. He had tried to catch her when the shot had knocked her from her feet, the two of them landing in a tangled heap on the floor, her fingers snagged in his clothes. “I can’t let you go, I love you. I love you, Kate.”

The corners of her mouth flicker, attempting to rise, but her lashes are already descending for a final time.


“Ready to head back?”

Kate lifts her gaze from the ripple of waves rushing to meet the shoreline, turns to find Castle on the porch behind her, their bags slung over his shoulders.

After three months, she was more than ready to return to DC, to work, but she would miss his home in the Hamptons, his hideaway beach house turned into her haven for the summer she spent recovering from the gunshot wound to her chest. Recovering with Castle beside her every step of the way.

It had surprised her how many vacation days he had racked up after five years and no breaks at the bureau, dedicating them all to her. She still felt a little bad about that, but she knew he’d do it again in a heartbeat, especially if it meant three months of exploring the new developments of their relationship all over again.

She really adored the perks of loving Castle back.

“Yeah,” she murmurs, turning away from the call of the ocean to follow him back inside, through the house and towards the front door.

Kate inhales the salt air as they step outside for a final time, locking up for him while Rick transfers their two pieces of luggage to the trunk of the black SUV. It takes her a few minutes to descend down the porch steps, her chest healed, but still tender, and she notices him pointedly taking his time in the task of arranging two suitcases.

“Hey Agent,” she calls, waiting for him to poke his head around the trunk of the SUV, closing the large back door before stepping around the vehicle to approach her.

“Yes, SSA Beckett?” he parrots, draping his palms at her hips once he’s close enough, drawing her body into the cove of his, warmth spreading from the cover of his hands, heat from the bump of his hips, and yeah, being with Castle was good in more ways than she could list.

Beckett curls her fingers in the front of his shirt, lifts her other hand to touch his cheek, stroke her fingertips along his jaw and elicit that brilliant sparkle in his eyes.

“Thank you.” Castle tilts his head in confusion, rests his cheek into the cup of her palm as his brow furrows, and Kate sighs, uses the claim of her hand to draw his mouth to hers for a kiss that is both chaste and breath stealing all at once, has her damaged heart struggling to function as it picks up speed. “For the summer. For… before that, loving me.”

His lips quirk against her mouth, tender and soft like the words he’d spoken with such reassurance flashing in her mind, causing her own smile to grow.

“I loved you for a long time, Kate,” he told her one night when she had woken herself with a panic attack, ended up hyperventilating and humiliated in his bathroom, ashamed of the state he found her in.

Castle had helped her find her breath, calm down, and she had released a sob against his neck when he’d held her, curled up on the bathroom floor together in the middle of the night. She’d muttered into his skin about how she doubted he’d signed up for this when he volunteered to aid in her recovery for the summer, when he’d kissed her for the first time after only a week in the Hamptons together.

“Love you even now. Going to take a lot more than trauma to change that.”

She had sighed out against him, closed her eyes and listened to the steady throb of his heartbeat, tried her best not to succumb to sleep.

“Never change,” she’d yawned, hating herself the next morning when she learned he’d had to carry her back to bed, but not for the words.

Castle smiles now, reminding her once more how easy it can be, how wonderful, to find beauty, to feel it, in a world like theirs. He dusts his lips to her forehead before he tugs her towards the SUV, towards home.