this one’s twice as long!! still full of cliches! i still can’t figure out why you all like it so much but hey! as long as you want it, i’ll post it!! thanks for reading <3 enjoy
Feyre Archeron is pretty sure there are lines that shouldn’t be crossed when it comes to conduct with the authors whose books she edits. But when you take what should have been a normal flight to Paris and add a tuna sandwich, a red pen, and a smirking stranger, lines can get a little blurry.
the one where feyre accidentally trash talks a novel to its author and then they kinda fall in love
One of the best fics I’ve ever read in general, it’s based off the same concept as The Time Traveller’s Wife and it’s just incredibly well-paced, beautifully written, and all-around brilliant. You will cry, and you will love it.
College AU. AMAZING. I would actually recommend pretty much everything by that author, especially if you want fandom classics. It’s all wonderful. But this one holds a special place in my heart.
Some Girls by Rave is a three-part series that I literally – I don’t even know what to say about it. One of my all-time favorites. It’s a genderswap AU where Zayn randomly turns into a girl and he and Liam must learn to deal with it (wink). Hilarious, heartfelt, well-written, and incredibly hot. (Her Hogwarts Ziam is also great, fyi. Just go through her works, actually. She’s excellent.)
This fic honestly wrecked me. It’s absolutely gorgeous. Future fic where Zayn and Liam find each other again post 1D. Fantastic prose, excellent characterization, and just a wonderful story. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll wonder how the author managed to personally meet ziam in order to capture their personalities so flawlessly.
AU where Zayn is a ghost and Liam moves into his room. I loved every word of this fic from start to finish. I’m a big sucker for supernatural stuff, and this is excellently paced, hilarious, angsty, romantic and sexy all at once.
AU where Zayn and Liam get set up on a blind date, and it’s BRILLIANT. It’s Zayn POV, funny, romantic and adorable. It was one of the first ziam fics I ever read and I still think about it all the time.
!!!! I’ve been going through my Ao3 history to find these, and I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT THIS FIC, I LOVE IT SO MUCH. X-Factor fic where Zayn’s never wanked off successfully and Liam helps him out. Smutty, adorable and AMAZING.
I. love. this. fic. I was actually just raving to thedimplesinyourback14 the other day about how much I love it. SUPER HOT, but also manages to be really earnest and sweet at the same time, which is truly a gift. It’s OT5 but mainly ziam. It’s also perfect.
“You know,” Kate started, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I read online somewhere that a twenty second hug is beneficial to your health.”
Max blinked blearily up from her homework, dark circles and stress prominent on her face.
“Is this your way of asking me for a hug?” A hint of a smile twisted at the corners of her lips.
“Well, I mean–” Kate wrung the hem of her shirt between her hands. “Exams are really taking their toll on y–me–everyone. I just thought it’d be nice, maybe.” She opened her arms slightly, ducking her head with a hopeful expression.
Max laughed and stood, leaning into Kate and pressing her face into her shoulder.
Well the first week of 2017 is in the books and my wonderful colleague on this blog (the amazing @lovelizziekins) helped us all travel down the good parts of 2016 by reblogging all the wonderful WIPs that were written last year. That was all her and when I saw how many stories she had queued up for the week I was amazed. We really do have some fabulous talent in this fandom.
On another happy note, this little blog is growing some more. The fabulous @papofglencoe has agreed to help us on our mission here to find Everlark fic updates! She is another amazing human and we are so happy for the help.
The watch is for the life I saved,” she murmurs, kissing his jaw. “My mother’s ring for the life I lost.” Another kiss at his ear, avoiding the blood, lips brushing. “And your ring for the life I want. The life we have. Just hold on, Castle. Don’t give up on us yet.
A/N: Thank you to Hannah (KATHERINEBECKS on twitter) for providing the photo inspiration to this piece and to @shadoweddawn, who also wrote a ficlet based on this picture, which can be found here.
The scent of sugar cookies and the squeals of their daughter’s laughter rouse Rick from sleep, drag him into a pleasant wakefulness as he listens to the sounds of Kate and Ava downstairs, harmonizing to a song about winter wonderlands. Dancing as well, he sees once he dons a robe, descends the stairs of their Hamptons home to find his wife and his youngest daughter prancing around the kitchen.
“Look who’s up,” Kate chuckles, abandoning their daughter, who stands proud atop a stray chair from the dining area, happily singing off key to the music blaring from Kate’s phone as she delicately places a snowflake shaped cookie cutter into the layer of dough spread out in front of her. “Morning sleepyhead.”
Castle smirks into the kiss she presses to his mouth, tasting sugar on her lips.
“Your fault for keeping me up so late,” he mumbles, squeezing her hip, encountering a patch of flour decorating the apron strung across her waist.
“I regret nothing,” Kate throws back, skirting his hands and returning to Ava, murmuring her praise over the little girl’s shoulder. “Good job, buttercup. These are going to look great.”
“Daddy, are you going to help us make cookies for the party tonight? Momma said we’re doing gingerbread next,” Ava beams, her bright blue eyes shining in the morning light filtering through the clouds of winter outside.
“You’re making my favorites next?” he gasps, receiving an eager nod in reply, the french braid Kate had twined her chestnut strands into whipping over her thin shoulders. “How can I resist?”
Castle jogs back to their room to change, rolling the sleeves of his sweater up to his elbows on the way back down, accepting the Christmas themed apron Kate hands him with a huff.
“Why do I get the Santa one?”
“Because you’re jolly like Santa,” Ava supplies for her mother.
“Is that a polite way of calling me fat?”
“Castle,” Kate scolds, buries her laugh agains this cheek and pats his stomach for good measure. “Stop being a baby and knead some dough.”
Kate places their sugar cookies in the oven to bake while Rick distributes the gingerbread dough between the three of them, spreads the assortment of cookie cutters out on the counter for Ava to choose from.
“Uncle Kevin is going to love these,” Ava explains, pressing the signature gingerbread man shape into her splay of dough.
“Why’s that?” Castle inquires, imprinting a reindeer shape into his. He’s determined to create the entire pact that makes up Santa’s sleigh pulling team.
“Because he loves gingerbread! And I’m going to make his entire family,” she continues, retrieving a smaller size of the same cookie cutter shape. Rick had kept an entire collection of the cookie cutters from when Alexis was younger and they had picked them up from the storage space on the drive here, soaked them in the dishwasher overnight, and it had his chest swelling to see Ava recycling Alexis’s old traditions. “Aunt Jenny, cousin Sarah, cousin Bella, and baby Bob.”
Laughter bubbles from Kate’s lips on Ava’s opposite side. “Sweetie, Uncle Ryan and Aunt Jenny don’t have a baby named Bob. He doesn’t have a name yet because he’s still in Aunt Jenny’s tummy, remember?”
“I know, Mommy. But I have to call him something.” Ava shakes her head in exasperation, a gesture he recognizes from Kate. He hopes it’ll be a few years before their daughter picks up on the eye rolls, or even worse, ‘the look’.
“I don’t know if I’d vote for ‘Bob’, but she has a point,” Castle concedes, startling when Kate reaches behind their daughter’s back, delivers a pinch to his side. “Kate, you made me mess up Dasher.”
“Mommy,” Ava huffs, abandoning her gingerbread family to comfort her whining father. “Here, just stick his leg back on like this, Daddy. Don’t give up on him.”
Kate smothers her smile, her eyes melting into that soft gold as she watches Ava fix the broken leg of his reindeer with great care. His wife has always sworn that their daughter had been born with his heart, his love and compassion, but he would always argue that it was the opposite. The way Ava handled a broken cookie as if it was a wounded creature in need of tenderness was the way he had always witnessed Kate tend to the families of victims. Putting a piece of her heart into it every time.
“There.” Ava smiles proudly at the reindeer with quite a large bulge in the back leg area. “All better.”
Castle drops a kiss to the top of her head. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
“I knew frosting was going to be a disaster between the two of you,” Beckett sighs, but his grin only grows.
After all of the cookies had been baked and allowed the chance to cool, homemade frosting had been created, and while smears of vibrant greens, reds, and whites decorated Kate’s fingers, he and Ava had the colors stained along their hands, their arms, and their cheeks. Which had mostly been his fault, but it had made the process of decorating cookies for the Christmas party even more fun and he knew that even as Kate shook her head at them, she had enjoyed every second.
Castle abandons Ava at the dining room table, the view of her finishing up with the last of the cookies clear from the kitchen, and comes up behind Kate at the sink.
She turns to glance over her shoulder and Rick quickly smears the white frosting down the tip of her nose. Kate jerks back from him, her eyes startled but her lips splitting into a sly smile as she reaches behind her, and oh no-
The burst of flour explodes from her fingertips, coats the side of his face and sticks in his hair, but he’s already laughing, always delighted when she plays along, gives credence to the wonderful hints of childishness still buried within.
“I deserved that,” he sighs.
Ava giggles from the table, red and green fingers rising to cover her mouth as she laughs at the two of them. Kate smothers her amusement against his lips, teasing her tongue along the seam, humming in a way that is far too arousing for the middle of the day with a kid in the room.
“Deserved that too,” she murmurs, brushing her thumb through the layer of flour before stepping back, approaching their daughter with open arms.
“Let’s go get you cleaned up so you can take a nap before the party.”
“I don’t want to nap,” Ava sighs, wiping her hands on a paper towel.
“Why? Naps are the best,” Castle says with a waggle of his brow for Kate.
“Just a little nap,” Beckett placates their girl, narrowing her eyes at him before turning her attention to Ava, brushing the hairs that have fallen from her braid back from her face. “We’ve been up since early this morning, you don’t want to be too tired when it’s finally time for the party, do you?”
Ava mulls it over for a moment, so young but so wise, a little too wise for his liking. Alexis had been similar at this age, though, even worse, actually. His little girls always tended to grow up too fast.
“Okay Momma, are you still going to do my hair pretty?”
“Mhmm, and you’ll get to wear that pretty red dress Gram picked out for you last week, remember?”
Ava wraps her arms around Kate’s neck when she lifts her from the chair, spinning around to earn a peal of rich laughter before she carries her away from the mess of flour and frosting, towards the closest bathroom, chattering on about Ava’s dress, about the upcoming festivities. The Christmas party would be fun, memorable and pleasant, just like it was every year that they hosted the holiday gathering in their Hamptons hideaway, but he thinks that the preparation, the sacred moments that come beforehand with his wife and his six year old, is where all of the true enjoyment lies.
“Oh and Castle?” Kate trots back down the hall, the sound of bathwater running in the distance. He catches her by the hips when she lifts on her toes, bracing her hands on his shoulders as she smudges another smile to his mouth. “Wait for me in the shower. I’ll be needing a nap myself.”
Her damaged heart is in her throat, the words on the screen glaring back at her accusingly, because it’s been two months since he she had told him she would call, since he had walked out of her hospital room with a reluctant expression on his face, concealing some of the heartache.
His heart was probably just as decimated as hers and oh, that makes it all so much worse. What she’s done to him, dying in front of him and then proceeding to disappear.
She doesn’t regret her decision to retreat from the city, seek seclusion in the depths of the woods surrounding her father’s cabin, but she does regret how she did it. He may not have liked it, may not have wanted to stay away, but Castle would have respected her decision, respected her request for privacy, despite how much her choice of isolation may have hurt him. But she had left without a word instead and she thinks that may have hurt him far worse.
Kate bypasses the option to reply to his message on her phone, goes straight to his contact info and presses the call button before she can succumb to her cowardice. She seals the phone to her ear and closes her eyes, carefully curls her legs in towards her chest at the head of her bed, her back against the board, and the last of the evening light reaching through her window to drip along her toes.
The ring of the phone has her heart pounding too fast, slamming brutally against the fresh scar between her breasts, rattling her ribs and upsetting the incision scars along her sides, and Beckett gingerly rubs her palm to the site of the hole in her chest, tries to soothe the angry throbbing.
But it’s no use once the ringing stops and a line of connection is actually made.
For a second there is only silence, the sound of a stuttering breath-
“I got your text,” she blurts out, her voice a ragged mess, rusty from lack of use, but it takes him a few more seconds to respond.
She doesn’t think she’s ever heard Castle so silent.
“You… I thought - I didn’t think you had your phone. Wasn’t even thinking when I sent that, I’m-”
“I’ve kept it off for the majority of the summer,” she admits quietly. “I wasn’t trying to - you left me voicemails.”
Castle sighs. “Yeah, filled up your inbox I think. Sorry about that.”
Kate squeezes her eyes shut and drops her forehead to her knee. “Don’t be sorry, Castle. I’m - I just saw your text right now, when I turned the phone back on to check in with my dad and I - I’m sorry.”
“Kate, you don’t have to-”
“I needed to be alone this summer,” she states, crackles of white burning behind her eyes as they remain screwed shut. “I couldn’t handle - I just needed to-”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Castle cuts in softly, but his voice is firm, reassuring, and hurt. She can hear the hurt so clearly even as he tries to hide it and it makes her scars throb. “You were shot, you nearly died-”
“And you were with me through every part of it,” she murmurs the reminder, swallowing hard at the truth of it.
He’d held what had been her dying body, had stained his hands in her blood, had spent hours on end in a waiting room, pacing and panicking, according to her dad. He had whispered his love to her in those final moments before she had lost consciousness because he thought he might not have the chance again. At least, she thinks that last part is true. Hopes it’s true, hopes it’s not.
She’s a hard person to love.
If she hasn’t made that obvious to him within the last couple of months.
“You said you’d call,” he mumbles, not accusing, just disappointed.
“I know,” she gets out, digging her nails into the bone of her shin. “I should have called sooner. Explained instead of just disappearing. You deserved that much.”
She can hear Castle releasing a breath, pictures him sitting in his office, staring out the window towards the shine of city lights she’s been starting to miss.
“You’re calling now,” he finally says, as if that’s some consolation, and she shakes her head. It’s not enough and she doesn’t deserve his graciousness, not now, but she accepts it, values it, because there’s little she can do to make it up to him from here. “Can we… do you have to go?”
But she can try, she can attempt to begin earning his forgiveness too, erase those final moments spent with him in the cemetery grass from the loop they play in her mind, replace his desperate words and tearful voice with new conversations.
“No,” she murmurs, unfurling the fold her knees, loosening the bow of her spine to rest back against the bed’s headboard. “We can keep talking for a little while, if you want.”
“I want,” he answers, not the eager response her offer would have once warranted, but a gentle form of acceptance that has her heart slowing to a less excruciating pace.
Kate takes a shallow breath and closes her eyes, returns to the image she’d painted of him tucked away in his office, missing her in the same painful way that she’s grown to miss him.
“How are you?” she asks, relishing in the soothing tenor of his voice filling her ear with each answer he gives to her questions, with each inquiry he puts out in return, and for the first time since she left the city, since she had been shot in the chest, she feels something close to peace.
Blind dates are usually destined to go terribly, so Louis doesn’t exactly trust his friends when they say they’ve set him up with Gemma’s younger brother, Harry, at an evening bonfire they’re attending. Luckily, Harry’s much hotter and kinder then Louis thought he’d be, which is a relief. He’s also really fucking good at sex, which is just a wonderful bonus.
(Bonfires, beer, friendships, hook-ups and fluff.)
“Sometimes, when Harry is alone, he’ll stop what he’s doing - texting, fiddling with a ring, reading - and go still, like he thinks if he’s quiet enough Louis will emerge from his hiding spot and say hello.”
Alternately, the one where Louis is a lonely ghost haunting the house on the hill, and the boys move in on a Tuesday.