(Fanfiction: Castle)
She pushed, he pulled. And in between that were the words and the yells. And in between that, they exploded.
This is incredibly beautiful.
(Source: loewen-herz)
The rhythm of her hips falters a bit as that thought takes root in her mind. She tries to push it out, to push him out but it’s a pointless exercise. He’s everywhere; in everything.
Because in my opinion this is deliciously clever. It’s a post-ep for Knockdown and it says a lot about the characters, and has this delightfully complicated Beckett-monologue that makes absolute sense when you reach the end and you sit back and think about it.
Plus hot sex. Which I’ve heard some of you like?
In all seriousness, it feels fresh, and it’s the perfect kind of post-ep really: seamless with canon but adds so so much to it. Go, read.
warehouse 13 fic; some lines are meant to be crossed
some lines are meant to be crossed | Warehouse 13; Myka/H.G | 1061 words | r
For the prompt: (708): Would you like to blur the lines between friendship and lesbianism tonight? at the Texts from Last Night ficathon
This and the cider I am drinking while reading it are the greatest things to ever happen to me.
By: enderingquirk
Characters/Pairings: Beckett/Castle, Beckett/Other
Word Count: ~3,000
Disclaimer: Not mine, wish they were because they would have more sex. Property of Marlowe & Co. Also, ABC.
Rating: NC-17.
Author’s Note: has my life really come to this? really? but this is absolutely a thing that is necessary in the world. promise.
basically, sometimes i think about beckett and sex. this is what happens. also, this is porn. like, porny porn. leave now if that’s not your thing.
Summary: beckett sexual history exploration. she likes it rough.Fuck. Yes. READ THIS FIC! SERIOUSLY!!
ugh read it and weep.
(it’s dirty and honest and wonderful and hits just about all of my buttons?)
fuck okay i have to go do something to calm myself down. uggggh.
(via just-justignoreme)
A cop, her writer, and six comics.
Ugh, go read this because it’s seriously perfect and I just want to keyboard smash at it and keep it under my pillow for always.
There are comics, and Beckett and Castle are nerds and their banter and conversation and the progress of their relationship is magnificent. I NEED A THESAURUS.
Okay. Go on. Read.
A Castle fanfic.
It starts with a ritual, an ending and an ad in the paper.
I am really, really enjoying this story.
It starts with a lovely description of making tea and just gets better. I’m going to quote my own review because I’m exhausted: It’s quite refreshing and a little bit different. But at the same time, it’s quite a natural, easy idea. It has a growing cast of characters who I am dying to meet and the prose is so evocative. Truly a joy.
I’ve been … sort of looking for new narrative voices in fandom of late, and this is exactly what I didn’t know I needed.
Percolate: Chapter 3
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7725265/3/
It started out not behaving and refusing to be written and then suddenly I couldn’t stop and it became the longest chapter so far. You’re welcome.
What is this sorcery. I can’t even explain why I’m loving this so much. I mean seriously, face value, it’s not something I’d usually take to (first person and an original character) but I find myself charmed. Novel and interesting. GO ON TRY IT.
castle fic; that was my veil
that was my veil | castle; castle/beckett | 3021 words | g | post Killshot
the police & the writer.
FIC: When a crime breaks out all the cute girls shout, “Get the good looking guy”.
AUTHOR: Hondagirll
SUMMARY: ”Detective Castle, I assume? And you must be the …writer?”
(Source: florrick, via possibilityofmagic)
Meltwater written for Margaret Atwood’s Shapechangers In Winter, Rated T, 1057 wonderful words.
Firstly, can I just say, I nearly cried when I saw that my goat had written for the Margaret Atwood poem I requested because holy fuck I never expected that nomination to come to anything, and I adore that poem and it’s story. I could’ve died then and there but then this happened:
You are what I find, with your single glove and torn jeans, laughing as you run wild and your shouts disrupt the wood, and a bright flash of feeling shoots through me. I hate you, I think; I cannot be sure but whatever it is makes me look away from the water at you, at your freckles, your flushed cheeks and the lick of hair that never goes down, even now. I bend down for a stone to throw and come up twenty years later and look at your stiff back and your straight mouth, and words choke me because your face will always be a challenge.
Perfect! And … so evocative, taste-touch-feel writing (for me anyway). And I was so surprised because I often don’t like first person, but this just felt like a love letter (which is fitting because the poem is) and it was so intimate and I’m gushy, I know, but I’m just so happy. It’s like the author knew exactly the right balance of pretentious (because come on, it’s fanfic for a poem, it was a pretentious request, I’ll own it, I’m a d-bag) and earnest.
And the rest is simply gorgeous too, but what made me fall completely in love with it was this line: I wonder sometimes if I love you because I don’t know how else to feel about you. As I said in the comment I left, It was just one of those moments, you know, when you read something and you think yes, that is that feeling I have been trying to express for so long, right there on my screen, I feel that.
Anyway, it really spoke to me. Kudos goat, I’m actually impressed that you pulled it off with such flair because Margaret Atwood’s shoes are pretty fucking big. But I never even once had the sense that this was unworthy.
Ugh, best Christmas present ever.
