Who are you
Whats your favorite color
Favorite ice cream flavor
Do you have a cat
reblogging again bc I already got some from really cute people, but it makes me unreasonably happy to read these from you SO KEEP ON SENDING THEM
⇒ the mating rituals of steggosauruses + principles over passion
It’s only been eight months since he laid her to rest. Eight months of sitting around, sleeping on her side of the bed and inhaling the last bit of her scent. She’s gone now, he knows, but it doesn’t make the day to day life easier.
He still goes to the precinct whenever he can, stares at the desk that was once hers with disdain and cannot find it in his heart to get along with the new Detective Sarah whom flirts with him whenever she gets the chance. Everything reminds him of Kate.
Bracken was placed in jail two months before. He remembers everything about the trial; he went to every court healing, every appeal, every sentencing until William Bracken left in shackles and an orange jumpsuit. He knows every now that Kate would have done the same thing and a tiny part of him holds onto the what could have been, had she been alive to see her mother’s killer brought to justice.
It’s late at night when there’s a knock on the door. Alexis is upstairs, pouring over books that don’t make any sense to him. His mother is out. He can’t imagine who is on the other side of the door. He pushes forward, opening the door and what he sees makes his heart equally drop to the pit of his stomach and beat just a little bit faster -
"Kate." He breathes, and for a second he thinks he’s hallucinating. He’s slightly drunk, the remainder of his scotch sitting in his office next to his laptop. It’s possible. "You’re not… you’re not real."
But she is. She reaches and her hand clasps his cheek and it’s takes all he has not to break down and cry right there. She’s dead. He buried her with her mother’s ring and her engagement ring on a chain. He kissed the top of the casket and nearly refused to let go of her but she’s… she’s right there.
"Rick." Her voice cracks and then he’s done, tears filling his eyes as she steps over the threshold, crushing her body into his and somewhere along the lines, his arms wrap around her waist and he thinks he might be holding her too tight, but neither of them are complaining.
Questions would come later; they’re the last thing on his mind because she’s alive and breathing and she’s home.
This is making me cry.
Inspired by this image…! (NOT my gif)
The rain has lessened, she thinks inanely, clinging to the random scraps of reality that she can process as they zip and crisscross through her brain. Much less than the downpour that stranded them here, on the side of some highway in the middle of New Jersey.
A season four story, set after ’Cuffed.’ One-shot. NOT a Christmas story. :)
Liefdesverdriet (n.) Dutch
the sadness, depression or pain one feels about a love unanswered or love that is gone.
castle season four + angst
eg. try and stay out of your head, i have seen you invent the damnedest things there + caskett
So I came across this post for a 30 Day Drabble Challenge and figured it was a good way to keep the writing muscles working.
Day 16: Formal (Hotch/Prentiss)
can you believe i spent actual time on this
Um, so I don’t know exactly where this came from, but it won’t go away, so yeah. Fic under the cut b/c of triggers.
"God, that feels so good," she murmurs. His hands are kneading at the stiff muscles in her neck and shoulders, and she’s so relaxed that she’s pretty positive she could fall asleep right here on the break room couch.
Except she won’t, because, well, that’s what got her here in the first place.
His lips press against her neck. “Always happy to be of service.”
"Oh really?" she asks, fighting a giggle as he brushes a ticklish spot. "I’m gonna have to hold you to that."
His hands gradually stop moving as his focus shifts to the taste of her skin. He moves to a spot behind her ear, starts applying lips, teeth, and tongue in a way he knows makes her crazy.
He lets out a whine when she squirms away and goes to follow, but she stops him with a hand on his chest.
"Castle, no," she says. "Tonight was supposed to be about work."
He pouts a little. “Yes, because you were getting so much done before I got here.”
Kate rolls her eyes, “Hey, it’s not my fault your kid is an energy sucking parasite.”
He chuckles, tugs her back to him. “Y’know, we should probably stop calling her a parasite,” he says. “She’s going to develop a complex.”
"Babe, she’s not even out of the womb yet. I think she’ll be fine."
He watches them through the open door, smiling slightly. They’re sickeningly adorable. Always have been, but it’s just gotten worse since they got married. And now they’re reproducing.
He’s grateful for them, though. They’ve restored his faith in true love and happy-ever-afters. So, he’ll do them a favor and erase the security cam footage, pretend the camera’s broken again.
It’s the least he can do.