#kastlechristmas

[zushigirl]

“Be honest with yourself, Karen. You’re as likely to see Frank Castle again as you are to bake gingersnaps in your grandmother’s kitchen.”

She leans back, eyes wandering. Gazing at the Christmas lights strung along the balcony across the alleyway.

It’s then she remembers the nutcracker in her purse.

Happy New Year’s Kastle fam! I am late as always in sharing my holiday-themed fics, but I hope you’ll enjoy a belated Kastle Christmas present 🎄💛

[kastlenetwork]

Hi! So I'm pretty new to the kastle fandom and wanted to know if there are any like- classic fics or interviews or memorable moments in panels and cons (with the actors) that I should know about? I know about the interviews that are on the kastle wikifandom page but only because I've read them.

helloooo! welcome to the family! it's been quite quiet lately, but frank and karen are always in our hearts lolol and every now and then there's a little resurgence, so that's nice. umm first up interviews. there's a lot of little quotes here and there that were a big deal. we didn't get many interviews of the two of them together, if i remember correctly. i think two comic cons were pretty exciting.

here are some interviews from comic con 2017 yup

this is a cute clip from last year, where deborah talked about how jon's intense but really uplifted her. and that they want to work together again.

(i'm looking at kastle's wikifandom and, really, the big interview quotes all seem to be there.)

“ … just in terms of whether this is Jon’s story to tell or my story to tell, you just want to kind of be respectful of everybody’s contributions. Jon and I have certainly felt that there is room for a romantic story in there. And there were certainly scenes where we took it farther in some takes than we did in other takes. We’ll have to sort of wait and see what the editors chose, and how far they decided to push it. But we as actors allowed for that possibility.” -deb cinemablend

deborah and jon were both supporters, but deborah was always including frank into karen's romantic potentials:

“But all of the romance I’ve gotten to play, with any of the characters in the series, whether that’s Frank or Matt, they all come from a need. From a lonely person, a person who doubts whether she is deserving of love.” -deb collider

**

“I like that Karen can say, ‘How far down this road of violence of revenge do you go before you’re ripped apart?’ and he can look at her and go, ‘I’m already ripped apart. And you are, too.‘” -deb 92.1 bobfm

**

“When professor [Jeph] Loeb [Marvel TV head] told me we were gonna do a series on The Punisher,” Bernthal continued, “first thing i asked him is would I have the pleasure and the honor to work again with one of the most honest, the most kind, and the most talented actors I’ve ever had the privilege to work with.” --jon ew

oh! karen page being announced for the punisher. very cute.

"i just want to say, you guys don't love him as much as i do" was very exciting when it happened lmaoooo. the hope for kastle was high.

*****

i'll be honest up front and say, i tend to forget a lot of stuff? so, basically, i can read a fic and then read it again months later and it's like a brand new experience. which is both a blessing and a curse. so, i basically just zoomed through my bookmarks to try and find some things?? 😩😩

(i'm scanning my bookmarks and.............a lot of them are basically just smutfdjklgsdfjglkdfjglkdfjg)

ballads for a dead man ❤❤ [three parts, unfinished] Safe up in the mountains with Frank following a bloody showdown in Hell's Kitchen, Karen wonders just how much more complicated things between them can get. She's about to find out.

these heavy words, your open heart 😘😘 (this was a kastlechristmas gift to me from @carry-the-sky 😊❤) “You told me once that I was honest. That I don’t lie to you. But the hospital—you asked me to start over, and I said I didn’t want that.” Karen sucks in a breath. Frank’s eyes are still on her, wide and bright. It’s the most vulnerable she’s ever seen him look. “I lied,” he says.

The Reporter  [kinda iconic ❤👀] Force Recon missions keep Marines isolated, entrenched for long periods in covert locations. They rarely received visitors, and in Frank’s long experience, the visitors were almost never civilians, let alone gorgeous blondes with mile long legs and sky blue eyes. Frank was trying not to stare. They all were. Well, everyone except Bill, who’s face had just split into a shit-eating grin.

The Flower Cam [oh god, the flower cam! i just remembered!! ❤] It had been a long time since there had actually been any flowers in the window. She must have trashed the white roses after his latest bullshit at the hospital with Madani and the kid. Good. Good for her. She should forget about him. But still… Frank couldn’t help but check every once in a while.

actually just, everything in their ao3. i have all this bookmarked.

(..................god, my bookmarks are really all smut. this says a lot about me.)

Castle’s Auto Shop ❤❤ yes. yep. Karen Page is in need of a car mechanic. Castle’s Auto Body Shop seems a reasonable choice. There’s just one problem: This little auto shop has become a well-known spot where less than honorable people to go get their car fixed…only to have justice find them at the next stop light. Having her brother’s truck fixed there means Karen will have to own up to a few secrets in her past.

Blood and Bone ❤❤❤! this is the fic that has seared itself into my brain. i've never once forgotten this. iconic. Frank Castle is a boxer at the top of his game. Laconic and anti-social, he has a reputation for being an incredibly-tough interview. Karen Page is a sports reporter trying to prove herself in a male-dominated field. She's done playing games--trying to be the "Cool Girl" who caters to the male fantasy--and now she's on a mission to take no shit. "For a while, the fact that an interview with Castle lasting longer than 5 minutes even existed was big news. Splashed all over the message boards—circulated among boxing and Castle fans alike. The very concept that someone actually got the man to sit down for more than a breath of time and give multiple-sentence answers to a question—it was huge. Massive. It was the only thing Castle fans could talk about. Until three months later, when Frank Castle disappeared. Then that was the news. It was the only news."

this is hard lmaoo how ludicrious. i have about seven collections from some of our events, as well. there's loads of good stuff in there:

kastlesmutweek 2018

kastlesmutweek 2019

kastlechristmas 2018

kastlechristmas 2019

kastlechristmas 2020

kastlechristmas 2021

kastlechristmas parent collection

[kastlenetwork]

i think this year is just everyone making things on their own for kastlechristmas, instead of prompts.

kastle fam! are there holiday shenanigans happening this year? i have half written prompts from last year i never finished 😅

[ninzied]

and i didn’t have to call it loneliness

for mistletoe monday: power outage, heavy snowfall, cuddling for warmth

6k.

The turn of the new year has her thoughts start to wander, a little too closely to things she would’ve preferred not dwell on. Moments she doesn’t want to relive. Things she regrets, people who have let her down. One person – one man – in particular. Swaying in an elevator, head and heart bleeding, the breath held between them. Crossing that line to his hospital bed, one last time.

More than anything, though, maybe she’s the one who should’ve known better. Maybe the one person she’s actually disappointed in is herself.

By the time she gets the call, she’s almost grateful for the distraction.

It’s her first break in a case she’s been looking into since Thanksgiving. Technically, it’s not in her purview as partner at Nelson, Murdock and Page; they serve the underserved, and a pro athlete turned drug trafficker for the Italian mob hardly fits the bill. Matt’s already warned her to stay away from the guy more than once. But Matt should’ve known that telling her no is about as good as a “go for it” in her book.

So really, in retrospect, this one’s on him.

…

Or, Karen finds herself investigating a case in the middle of a snowstorm with Frank.

continue on ao3.

[carry-the-sky]

merry and bright

summary

Foggy has seen his fair share of crazy shit— alien portals, ninjas, dudes with glowing fists and bulletproof skin, ninjas again. His best friend—who’s blind, by the way—spends his nights in a red spandex suit leaping across buildings and running down criminals. Foggy can’t say he’s used to any of it yet, but he’s getting there.

Well, he was. Frank Castle standing in the entryway to Josie’s might just be the final straw.

[read the entire fic on ao3]

Foggy is honestly debating whether or not to just beeline it over to the bar right now to get the good stuff, but— Frank’s still over there, so instead he settles for taking a longer-than-necessary pull on his beer.

“Still nothing from Matt?” Marci asks, pulling Karen into a hug.

Foggy shakes his head. “Nah. You know how he loves to be fashionably late.”

Marci hums with— disapproval, maybe? She’s always been a little tricky to read when it comes to Matt. Foggy’s lost count of the times he’s almost slipped up and spilled the big secret; part of him wishes he could, mostly because it would help explain a lot. But it’s not his to tell. Things are finally, finally somewhat normal again with Matt, or at least, normal for them. Now that a certain murderous ex-client of theirs is in the mix, Foggy’s not sure which of his two best friends’ extracurriculars will give him an ulcer first.

“Oh, and by the way,” Marci is saying, “the guy at the bar— Pete, right?” She lifts her chin in Frank’s direction. “Nice work, Page.”

“I’m standing right here,” Foggy says, only half-offended. The guy does clean up pretty well.

“Oh, come on, Foggy Bear.” Marci winds an arm around his shoulder and pecks him on the cheek. “You know I love you. I’m just admiring the view.”

“Thanks, I think,” Karen says, settling into her seat. “But we’re just friends.”

“Right,” Marci says, drawing out the word. “Foggy and I were ‘just friends’ for a while, too.”

Karen rolls her eyes, but her mouth crinkles at the corners. “So, I see you finally won Josie over,” she says, eyeing Marci’s martini. 

“Must be my sparkling personality,” Marci says, flipping her hair in an exaggerated motion. “But hey, don’t change the subject. We’re talking about you and Mr. Intense Eyes over there. I want to know everything, so spill. Where’d you two meet?”

“Shot up a hospital,” Frank says, coming up behind them like he’s some sort of horror movie villain pulling a jump scare on his unsuspecting victims. Foggy thinks he deserves some sort of medal for not screaming like a small child.

“We met while I was working on his case,” Karen says, waiting until Frank has set their drinks down before digging an elbow into his side. His mouth twists into a grin.

Jesus, Foggy’s not nearly inebriated enough for this.

Again, Frank seems to read his mind. He pushes a bottle and an empty glass across the table, nodding at Foggy. “Bartender said you looked like you could use that.”

“The bartender is correct,” Foggy says, wasting no time in pouring himself a drink and taking a long swig. The stuff burns all the way down, and Foggy can practically feel it stripping the taste buds off his tongue. God bless Josie and her top-shelf mystery liquor. 

“Wait—” Marci turns to Foggy. “He’s a client of yours?”

Foggy pauses, glass halfway to his lips. Frank’s face is neutral, but Foggy can see his leg bouncing under the table. That’s his tell; Foggy remembers it from the trial, fingers twitching at his side while the rest of him was stoic as a statue. The longer the trial dragged on, the worse it got.

Holy shit, Frank’s actually nervous. Because of him. 

Foggy won’t lie; it feels good to hold all the cards against someone with thirty-seven—that he knows of—counts of murder under their belt. Not that Foggy’s going to do anything with them. He has precisely nothing to gain from outing the guy as the Punisher, and that’s putting aside the fact that he would never in a million years do that to Karen. 

Doesn’t mean he can’t have a little fun, though.

“Former client,” Foggy says, setting his glass down on the table. “It’s been a minute since we’ve caught up. What are you doing for work these days, Pete?” 

Amusement dances across Frank’s face. “Construction, mostly. It’s good work. You’d know all about that, yeah, counselor?” 

Okay, shots fired. Except now he’s picturing Frank in a hardhat or driving an excavator and his brain short circuits for what feels like the eightieth time tonight. This is the man who turned an entire gang to minced meat, who threw his trial literally five steps from the finish line. It may have been ages ago, but Frank coming completely unhinged, contorted rage darkening his face, the vicious growl of his voice bouncing off the chamber’s walls— all of that’s etched in permanent marker in Foggy’s long-term memory. The scariest part was how easily the anger exploded out of him, like he’d been itching for the excuse to go apeshit.

A person can’t just turn that off, right?

Yet here he is, just another regular dude as far as everyone in this bar is concerned. Still intimidating as hell, obviously, but he doesn’t look like he has any intentions of flying into a murderous rage, so that’s a plus, right? And Karen— Karen seems to trust him, and Foggy trusts Karen, apparently against his better judgement.

Foggy hikes his shoulders, then makes sure he’s looking at Frank dead-on before he opens his mouth. “What can I say? I like helping people. Even the ones who don’t know how to help themselves.” 

Frank doesn’t say anything for a long moment, just stares at him with a blank, flinty-eyed expression, and Foggy does his best to hold his gaze without blinking. Okay, so maybe he shouldn’t be needling the guy who can snap him in half like a toothpick, but whatever, he stands by what he said.

After what feels like an eternity, Frank’s mouth twitches into something approximating a smile. “You always been such a bleeding heart, Nelson?”

“Always,” Marci answers immediately. “Almost annoyingly so. He once stood me up to help supervise his niece’s Girl Scout cookie stand.”

“Hey, those cookies don’t sell themselves,” Foggy says. “And there was a trip to space camp on the table, which we won, by the way.”

“Space camp, huh?” Frank says, and it occurs to Foggy with a jolt that he maybe did something similar for his kids. Oh, God, do they actually have something in common? The thought pinwheels through him; he’s not sure if he wants to laugh or throw up.

Karen raises her drink. “To being a bleeding heart, then.” 

Foggy clinks his glass against everyone else’s, and right as he’s about to drink—because he’s still not even buzzed, which is just unacceptable, at this point—his eyes land on Frank.

Frank, who’s watching Karen. All the steel from earlier is gone; there’s a warmth in his eyes, a soft smile playing around the edges of his mouth that looks completely foreign on him. The way he’s looking at her— that’s not the way you look at someone who’s just a friend. Not even close.

Foggy downs his drink in one go, then pours himself another. 

“Should we open some presents?” Marci asks. “I’m sure Matt won’t mind if we start without him.”

Foggy nods a little too enthusiastically. He needs to do something normal, something to remind himself that this is actually a party—his party, dammit—and he’s supposed to be enjoying himself, not having an existential crisis over the fact that the city’s most dangerous vigilante is making moon eyes at his best friend.

There’s just barely enough room for all the gifts on the table. Foggy’s always played that whoever’s birthday is closest to Christmas gets to pick first, which would be Matt, if he was here. Frank’s is the next closest. 

He picks the bag closest to him, digging through a layer of tissue paper and emerging with a corkscrew in the shape of a dog. “Hell yeah,” he says, giving a thumb’s up. 

So the Punisher’s a wine guy. Neat.

It’s Marci’s turn next; without batting an eye, she reaches across the table to pluck the corkscrew out of Frank’s hands. “Sorry, Pete. That was mine. I always buy something that I want for myself so I can steal it back.” 

Karen’s mouth falls open in mild disbelief. “That’s cheating!”

“That’s strategy,” Marci says with a wink.

“So what’s stopping me from just stealing it back?” Frank asks.

Marci shakes her head. “Gifts can only be stolen once. That’s, like, the first commandment of white elephant rules.”

“That’s some fine print bullshit, is what that is,” Frank says, but he’s smirking a little as he reaches for a different gift. He pulls the wrapping paper apart to reveal a pair of reindeer antlers attached to a headband.

“Cute,” Frank grumbles, glancing at Foggy. “I’m guessing this was you?”

Foggy sips his drink. “I plead the fifth. But you do have to try them on.”

Frank just stares at Foggy for a second, probably picturing the most efficient way to strangle him. 

Foggy just shrugs in response, feeling way braver than he probably should. Thanks, mystery liquor. “Yeah, it’s white elephant commandment, uh, number five. If you’re gifted something you can wear, you have to try it on.”

The glance that Frank shoots over to Karen practically screams save me.

“Hey, rules are rules,” she says with mock seriousness. “Antlers would really tie together your whole lumberjack look, don’t you think?”

“Chrissakes,” Frank mutters under his breath, but he slides them on.

Foggy takes back everything he’s said or thought about tonight. This is the happiest he’s ever been in his entire life. 

Karen is openly beaming now. I’m sorry, she mouths at Frank before leaning in to kiss his cheek, and sure, it’s probably the alcohol that’s making Foggy feel way less concerned about her questionable taste in men, or maybe it’s because said man now looks like a disgruntled reindeer. Either way, he’ll take it.

By the time it’s his turn to open the gift that Karen brought—a sparkly avocado tree ornament, sweet—everyone’s glasses are low, so he volunteers to grab the next round and heads for the bar.

“On my tab, right?” he asks Josie, who promptly levels him with a glare that could melt glass. “C’mon, Josie, it’s the season of giving!” 

“Oh, I’ll give you something, alright,” she grumbles. Then she tips her head toward the front door. “Your better half’s here, by the way.”

Foggy frowns, because Marci’s sitting with everyone else�� but when he glances at the entrance, there’s Matt, honest-to-God lurking by the doors like an enormous weirdo. He straightens up a little, like he can sense that Foggy sees him.  

Foggy blows out a slow breath. And here he was just starting to enjoy himself.

The cold hits him like a smack across the face as soon as he steps outside, sobering him up way more than he wants to be.

“What the hell, man?” Foggy says. “How long have you been standing out here?”

“You don’t want to know,” Matt replies, angling his head slightly. “Castle’s in there, right? With Karen.” 

It’s the way he says the with part that has Foggy pinching the bridge of his nose. “How did you— never mind, stupid question. Of course you already knew. Yeah, he’s here, yeah, he came with Karen, and yeah, if I think about it for more than two seconds I start to feel a migraine coming on, but— it’s actually been okay. We’re having a nice time.”

There’s a strange blend of emotion working across Matt’s face, but mostly he just looks tired. “This is really happening, isn’t it?”

“It’s insane, I know. But tonight— I really need tonight, buddy. You two wanna beat the hell out of each other, great. Knock yourselves out. Just do it tomorrow, okay? I just want one normal night out with my friends.”

Matt scoffs. “You call this normal?”

“Well, no one’s getting shot at, so I’m gonna take what I can get,” Foggy says. When Matt doesn’t reply, he pulls out the big guns. “Forget about me, at least do it for Karen. She seems happy, Matt. Happier than I’ve seen her in a long time.”

Something in Matt’s expression cracks, and he bobs his head in a tiny nod. 

Foggy claps him on the shoulder. “You’ll feel better after a drink or five,” he says. “Ask me how I know. Also, Josie started a tab just for us.”

“A Christmas miracle,” Matt says with a wry smile as they head inside. “So, he’s ‘Pete’ now, huh?”

“Yep. I wasn’t too sure about it at first, but I gotta say, it’s growing on me.”

Matt groans. “Kill me now.”

“That’s the spirit, buddy.”

There’s a bit of a tense moment when he and Matt approach the table—Foggy’s really glad Matt can’t see the look on Frank’s face, because even in reindeer antlers the guy still gives one mean stink eye—but honestly, Foggy would be a little concerned if things weren’t tense. He knows he’s not the only one remembering the last time they were all in the same room together. So much has changed since then. It’s laughably hard to believe that he and Matt were ever those scrappy, wide-eyed lawyers who stood their ground against Reyes and took on a trial way above their nonexistent paygrade. None of them are the people they were a year ago.

Foggy’s still not sure what to make of any of it, but the revelation feels like something heavy has been lifted off his chest.

It’s technically Matt’s turn, and because the universe has one twisted sense of humor, Frank’s gift is the last one left. Matt puts on a good show fumbling with the tissue paper as he pulls what looks to be an article of clothing from the bag. He holds it up.

It’s a red sweatshirt. Emblazoned in blocky white letters across the front are the words I’M NOT DAREDEVIL.

Foggy’s eyes dart to Karen. She’s staring at the piece of clothing like she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing, one hand over her mouth. Then a stuttered sort of wheezing sound comes out of her, and Foggy realizes she’s trying not to laugh.

Matt’s hands are working now, skimming over the letters with practiced ease. Foggy clocks the exact moment he figures it out, mouth pinching into a thin line. For one horrifying second, Foggy thinks he might actually launch himself across the table at Frank.

But then his mouth curves, a soft chuckle breezing out of him. “Hilarious.”

“Bodega across the street from my place was selling ‘em,” Frank says, looking entirely too smug. “Figured someone here would get a kick out of it. Red’s your color, yeah?”

“So I’ve been told.”

Karen has pulled herself together a bit, but she’s still smiling wide. “You won’t know for sure unless you try it on, though,” she says.

Matt’s eyebrows hike up to his hairline. “Uh, no, I don’t think—”

“Come on, man,” Foggy interjects. “Pete’s wearing reindeer antlers.”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” Matt says, but there’s a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He’s still holding the sweatshirt, probably imagining suffocating Frank with it. But then he scrunches up the hem and lifts it up. “I want it on the record,” he says, pulling it over his head, “that I did this under extreme coercion.”

“Duly noted, counselor,” Karen says.

Matt spreads his arms wide. “How do I look?”

“Red really is your color,” Marci says.

Frank ducks his head close to Karen. “Think I’m starting to see the appeal of commandment number five,” he says, and she swats him lightly on the shoulder. Matt tilts his head in their direction, that same expression from earlier spilling across his face. Then his face seems to soften. Foggy doesn’t know how much of that is genuine, but it feels like the tiniest of olive branches.

Matt didn’t have time to grab a gift—occupational hazard on both the attorney and vigilante fronts—so Karen steals Frank’s antlers, eyes sparkling as she pulls them off his head and slides them onto her own.

“Look better on you, anyways,” Frank says softly— softly, yet another adjective Foggy would never have attributed to the man before tonight. He’s still not sure he’ll ever be able to reconcile this Frank Castle with the one he remembers, the one who does unspeakable things and scares the shit out of him, but maybe he doesn’t have to. Maybe the guy was always both, and Karen was just the first one of them to see it.

So, no, this definitely isn’t how Foggy pictured the night going. But he’s starting to think it’s okay.

Maybe all of this is okay.

.

“So, that was fun!” Marci says much later, in the cab ride home. “Make a note to invite the Punisher to more parties.”

Foggy groans, too exhausted to feign ignorance or surprise. Marci’s a hell of a lot smarter than he is— of course she figured it out. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“And pop the magical new-relationship bubble those two were living in? Come on, Fog. I’m not that heartless.”

“But weren’t you, I don’t know, freaked out? Because I was freaked out. I mean, less so once the libations kicked in, but still.”

Marci shrugs. “Maybe at first. But honestly, Karen dating Frank Castle is probably the seventh or eighth weirdest thing to happen this year, so I just went with it. Besides, they seemed really happy together.”

“Yeah, they did.” Foggy reaches for her hand, twines their fingers together. “We’re cuter, though, right? Like, objectively.”

“Oh, it’s not even a competition,” Marci agrees, resting her head on his shoulder. “Although— Frank did look pretty great in those reindeer antlers.”

“Don’t remind me. That guy could pull off a burlap sack.” 

Marci prods him in the stomach. “Now who’s admiring the view, huh?”

“Hey, I have eyes,” Foggy laughs. “I can see the appeal. Still not exactly who I’d pick to date one of my best friends, but I guess it could be worse.”

“You’re a good friend, Foggy Bear.”

“Damn right, I am,” Foggy says.

Marci laughs softly, snuggling closer to him, and he smiles down at her before turning his gaze to the city passing by outside the window. 

Nope, not a bad night at all.

[goddamnitkastle]

Wait For Me

Happy #KastleChristmas! 

Yes, I did wait until the last possible second to post 🙃

And yes, I followed none of the prompt days (I think this falls under frosty friday, tradition thursday, and festive friday?? Maybe?)

Anyway here is a reunion fic, post TPS2. It’s the holidays, Karen is waiting for a package to arrive but Frank arrives instead, and it’s angsty cause of course it is.

Inspiration came from all over this time. It just might be a Christmas miracle that I didn’t find a scenario to rip off and make it Kastle for this fic. Huzzah!

A huge thank you to @evilbunnyking for being my beta reader. You are the best, your encouragement and enthusiasm made this fic happen.

Happy New Year Kastle fam! Here’s to 2022! 

Enjoy! 

“Karen Page, please stop refreshing the FedEx page. Now you’re giving me anxiety.”

Karen looks up from her phone and realizes that Ellison has strolled into her office, papers in one hand and the other hand in his pocket.

“How do you know I was checking for the package again? I could’ve been checking Twitter.” Karen fibs a little too quickly in an attempt to cover her stress.

“You and I both know you don’t do Twitter. Also this package has been the bane of both of our existences since Thanksgiving.” Ellison reminds her, which only adds to her irritation.

“If I knew ordering a case of wine and getting it shipped all the way across the country would be such a process, I think I would’ve just gotten Foggy and Marci literally anything else.”

“And remind me again, this is for their engagement party…?”

“Yes, their engagement party that they are hosting on New Year’s Eve.”

“I am sure it will get here before then.” Ellison assures her.

“It’s not just getting here before the party, Ellison, I have to sign for it - they’re not just going to leave a case of alcohol with my super. And FedEx will only make a certain number of attempts to get it delivered to me, and if I am not able to accept the delivery during any of their attempts they’re going to ship it back…”

Karen knows she is ranting at this point, so it’s a relief when Ellison raises his hand.

“It’ll be fine. And I think I can help you take your mind off of it.”  He says as he shakes the papers in his hand. “Can you look at this last editorial piece? We have to finalize this holiday edition of The Bulletin…”

“Yes, of course.”

Karen gets out of her chair and puts her phone in her back pocket. She follows Ellison to his office but she still can’t take her mind off of that damn package. Nevertheless the rest of her Monday carries on with edits and meetings, and when Karen locks her office for the night, the package remains in transit from Chicago.

…

That night Karen lies in bed, continuously refreshing the tracking page on her phone. She knows better; nothing is going to change in the three seconds it takes for her to press the curved arrow next to the URL, and yet... 

Karen groans in frustration. Snow has begun to fall outside the window. It glistens, each snowflake made of a thousand tiny diamonds illuminated by the street lights on her street. Something about the dim yellow light brings a memory, a flash of a man in black sitting across from her in a diner booth. He’s drinking coffee and giving advice about how to hold on to the people you love with two hands and to never let go of them.

She hasn’t seen Frank Castle since the hospital, when she offered him a way out. A way out of the war he refused to let go of. Why was she even thinking about him? He had made his decision and she was done standing by. He made it clear that there was no after for him and that he would not fight for one. When she walked away, she felt a chapter close.

Or so she thought. Another memory. She came home from work one random day and saw a pot of white roses on her kitchen island. She found a card with a phone number scribbled on it. She knows she should’ve been concerned that he managed to break into her apartment, but then again he did break into her car once so it honestly didn’t phase her.

She added the phone number to her phone under the initials F.C. and ripped up the card. She had thought about reaching out to him on numerous occasions but chickened out every time. 

Maybe it is loneliness. Maybe it is curiosity. Maybe she genuinely just wants to know if he is okay and still alive. It really doesn’t matter in the end. Karen calls the number and is greeted to an automated voice saying to leave a message after the tone.

She doesn’t remember what she says. It was something along the lines of that she hopes that he has found peace and that he is happy.

She goes to bed after that, thoughts of Frank dominating her mind rather than the case of wine and where it may be on its journey.

…

The rest of the week passes in a blur of twinkling lights, red and green swirls, and winter snow constantly in Karen’s peripheral vision. It’s the week before Christmas and there were deadlines to meet for the holiday edition of The Bulletin. It’s ready to go on Friday afternoon, just in time for the office party. Baked goods dominate the kitchen area as cheap wine fills everyone’s plastic cups. Karen dodges away from the festivities in her office and checks the Fedex tracking page for the first time all day.

The package has finally arrived in New York but it is taking its sweet time getting to Queens. The estimated delivery times have come and gone and now this time it is supposedly going to arrive between 4:00 PM and 8:00 PM.

“You can go Page.”

Karen jumps. Ellison has once again gotten the drop on her. He’s leaning against the door frame, shaking his head as he bites into a chocolate chip cookie. She almost wants this package to go missing just so she can get her heightened sensitivity back to normal.

“I’m so sorry, Mitchell. I honestly have not checked all day, I set up notifications to be sent when there were updates, at your suggestion. Which apparently don’t work, because I didn't even see that they have given me a new arrival time frame.”

“It’s okay. I get it. Foggy and Marci are your friends and you want to make sure that they get their gift. Just wanted to say that you did a great job this week. Now go.”

“Thank you - happy holidays!” Karen says as she grabs her purse and her coat. Ellison gets out of her way and then she’s out the door.

“Make sure you text me when the package does arrive, the suspense is killing me,” Ellison shouts to her over a Mariah Carey song. Karen gives a hasty thumbs up and laughs while descending the stairs.

…

Karen is back home in an hour and there is no sign of a FedEx delivery truck anywhere on her street. It is only after 6:00 PM though, so she still has two hours for this package to arrive.

She tries to keep herself occupied. She puts on pajamas, makes herself dinner, puts on a holiday movie with that actress from that popular teen movie, and pours herself a glass of wine. Only fifteen minutes have passed and no ring from her buzzer. She shuts the movie off and refreshes the tracking page on her phone again. Nothing has changed.

“Ugh! Come on!” Karen fumes.

Just then her buzzer goes off. Karen flies off her couch and runs to press the door button. Normally she would have asked who it was but all she could feel was elation that this package had finally arrived. 

“Oh shit.” Karen pats her pajama pants pockets and realizes that she doesn’t have her drivers license. She rushes back to the couch to grab her purse, runs back to the door, and rips it open.

It is not the wine delivery.

“Frank?”

He takes a step back but doesn’t say anything in response. In that moment all Karen does is process the fact that Frank Castle is standing outside her apartment door. His hands are in his pocket and he has grown a beard. He doesn’t look like he’s been in a gun fight and he wears a black coat. It’s a stark contrast to the last time she saw him lying in a hospital bed, handcuffed and still haunted by the loss of his entire world.

“Frank, what are you doing here?” Karen asks, realizing that he still hasn’t said anything.The prolonged pause between them has gone past the point of awkwardness.

“Hi, Karen. Did you, uh, order in?” he finally says. 

“No, I am expecting a delivery. I’ve actually been waiting on this delivery for… it feels like forever. I thought you were… a case of wine.”

“Oh. Well, I’m not.”

“No, you’re not.” Karen confirms.

“May I come in?” he asks hesitantly.

Karen involuntarily tilts her head to the side and lets out a sigh.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you said no. But you did call.”

“Yes, I called and left a message. I just wanted to see…” she starts to confess.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here, I was in Louisiana…” Frank interjects, and Karen would swear that he sounds ashamed.

“Oh God, Frank, I didn’t expect you to come in person. I just thought you would call me back. You didn’t have to come here.”

“Yeah, I did.” he says after a moment.

Karen opens her mouth and then closes it. She steps to the side and opens her  door wider. Frank walks in tentatively. After Karen closes the door and locks it, she approaches Frank.

“Seriously Frank, why did you come here?”

“I had to see you,” he admits quietly. “And ask you in person…”

“Ask me what?”

“Why did you call me?”

The silence hangs between them and Karen struggles to find the words. It was impulsive to call him but she doesn’t regret it. Okay, maybe she does a little bit, given how he is asking her why. Karen then realizes that she’s been here before with him. Last time she was barefoot and he was wearing a hospital gown. His I don’t want to lingers in the back of her mind and every instinct in her wants to shut down.

“I honestly don’t know.” She says eventually. ”The way we left things…” 

“I know. I didn’t expect to hear from you ever again.”

“Is that what you wanted?” 

“I thought it was for the best.”

How does he do that? Continue to put her in a new hell every time they’re together? She knows he feels the same way she does and yet he continues to break her in the name of honesty over and over again.

“For the best? To push away the one person that still cares about you?”

“I did it for you, Karen.”

“Frank do not…” She seethes.

“I had to do it,” he says with a confidence that doesn’t meet his eyes.

Karen rolls her eyes, tucks her hair behind her ears and starts to walk toward the couch. She thinks he’s going to follow but when he doesn’t, she has half a mind to kick him out. She honestly should. Instead she turns around to face him.  

“No you didn’t. I said we could figure it out together. I gave you that choice.”

“Why did you? Why did you offer that choice at all?”

“You’re seriously asking me why?” Karen asks incredulously.

Frank scratches his beard and looks away. Karen braces herself, ready for him to walk away again. It’s what he does, nothing is going to…

“I need to hear you say it.”

Karen’s eyes widen and for a split second, she thinks she can’t do it. She’s still so angry but now he’s looking at her like she is holding his life in her hands. And they both know it, one word from her and she will never see him again.

Many nights have passed where she would stay up and think about what she would say to Frank. It was a moment she thought would never come. But here he is and he’s looking at her, agonized but hopeful. And suddenly, it comes to her.

“Frank… I still feel the same way I did back in that hospital. Back in that elevator. Back by the waterfront. Back in the diner. I really can’t put it into words… the moment I met you I just knew. I knew you were going to be important to me. I didn’t know how and I didn’t know in what way. I love you. It’s that simple. And also difficult. But I want to try. And I think we can make it. So if you came all this way to tell me that you don’t want to for the second time then…”

In two steps Frank closes the distance between them and then his mouth is on hers. He’s cradling her face gently, brushing her cheeks with his thumbs. He pulls back, that soul searing stare of his boring into her. 

“Does that… clear some things up for you?”

Karen doesn’t answer right away. Her chest is tight and yet she feels like she’s flying.

“Yes. However I think I still need some further clarification…”

She reaches for him and crashes her mouth against his. He responds and grips her waist and back fiercely to him. When he pulls back again, out of breath, he rests his forehead against hers. There’s no blood, panic, or a gun in their space this time. Just their warm breath, the hardwood floor beneath their feet, and an ease that Karen has not felt in a long time.

“Frank, what do you want?”

“You. Just you.”

It’s everything Karen wanted to hear. She feels his heart racing beneath her palms and she wants to believe he’s feeling happy but she knows him. Frank is a man who will look for danger first, and he will throw himself in the line of fire if he thinks it will protect the people that he loves.

“I want to believe you, I just…”

She looks at him. Frank brushes her hair back and kisses her forehead. His gaze has softened but when he takes her hand in his, he is holding it like she’ll disappear if he lets go.

“I know. I pushed you away. I was trying so hard to run away from this, and it was because I was scared. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, too. But I’d rather spend whatever time I have left with you, then never see you again. I hope you’ll let me stay by your side. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

He kisses her again and she burns, he burns, they burn.

…  

They’re drinking their morning coffee on the couch. Frank only had the clothes on his back but Karen managed to find an old pair of oversize sweatpants for him. 

“Are you sure you’re not cold?” She asks for the fifth time since they woke up.

“No. In fact your apartment is hot, you got the heat on full blast or something?” He asks in a half serious, half joking tone.

“I don’t know, you’ll have to talk to my super. I don’t pay for heat here…”

Just then the buzzer goes off.

“Is that the case of wine?”

“Oh my God. I think it is.” 

Karen gets up from the couch and presses the door button. A few moments later a FedEx delivery man is in the doorway with a case of wine from a winery in California Marci visited on her 30th birthday. She pushes the delivery aside, breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Was it worth the wait?” Frank asks, emphasizing the wait. He meets her in the kitchen, sets their mugs down on the kitchen island.

“Yeah.”

“Really?” He is in complete disbelief.

“Really.” she echoes, strong and steady.

She grabs the mugs and rinses the remnants of the coffee in the kitchen sink. Frank walks over and wraps his arms around her waist, kissing the crown of her head.

“So… got any plans for New Year's Eve?” Karen inquires, hoping the question lands lightly.

“What did you have in mind?”

Karen smiles, and proceeds to tell Frank about a certain engagement party. Hopefully Foggy and Marci won’t mind that she is bringing a plus one now.

[superrpowerlesshuman]

"Karen Page ends up in California working in tandem with Eddie Brock to expose more hidden military secrets. Eddie Brock has a source line him up with a source, a kind of protector in town that fucks with the military guys. Eddie and Karen meet up with the new source, who happens to be Frank."

happy holiday season @woahpip!  ✨ 

(and because I couldn’t decide which gift is less shitty - here’s a second one)

[thesummerfox]

Once In Royal David’s City

Aliens have invaded New York City. Again. The government seems to believe that a shelter in place warning is the most effective until such a time Earth’s Mightiest Heroes are free to make a difference.

Frank Castle has never been one to wait for help to come, but he cannot wage this war alone. Determined to locate David Lieberman, who may very well hold the key to turning the invasion on its head, Frank’s journey reunites him with the one person he can never let go of...

[read the whole fic on AO3!]

Uhm, hi everybody? 😅 It’s been years, hello! I’ve finally made a fic return to the one fandom and ship I’ve never been able to shake, haha. Kastle Christmas had me all sorts of inspired this year and I wanted to write a little something for Day 5 - Alternate Universes! 

I’ve missed y’all. Please accept this holiday treat from me, gifted with the absolutely astronomical love I have for all of you in this fandom. 😘 

[wasleichtesart]

A hot coffee on a cold christmas morning. Awake with the sunrise.

Merry Kastle Christmas @thevampirecat !

I hope you had some beautiful Christmas days and wish you a nice start into the new year! Don’t know if this is recognizable as a sunrise at all, but I tried ^^

Kastle Secret Santa organised by @kastlenetwork

[rosehathaways-sidepiece]

I never post fics on this blog. But here’s a little Christmas fic anyway! Happy holidays!

[thevampirecat]

“Stay safe, keep warm.”

Merry Christmas to the lovely @carry-the-sky / Haley. I hope you enjoy this little gift.

[zushigirl]

A Kastle take on O’Henry’s Gift of the Magi 🎄✨

Holiday stories are simmering in my mind…

[kastlenetwork]

hiii everyone!! i hope that you’re all doing well, keeping healthy, and ready to close out the year with a little festive spirit! it’s time for (a slightly altered) kastle christmas ❄🎄❄🥂❄🎄❄

this year. we’re going to do a standard ship week with day-to-day prompts, that you can pick and choose to participate in. you can do one day or you can do seven (if you happen to be a miracle worker lol) -- just create what you want, without too much pressure. kastlechristmas will take place from christmas eve: december 24th to new year’s eve: december 31st, as per usual. 

the general overall prompt is the holiday/winter season, to fit the year end. (although it doesn’t have to actually be about christmas/holidays -- for the non-christmas-specific prompts). and the individual prompts for each days are as follows:

frosty friday | december 24th: christmas eve, longing, surprise reunions.

santa saturday | december 25th: christmas parties with friends (his or hers), gift exchanges, definitely not a date (definitely)

sugarplum sunday | december 26th: fluff, established relationship, domestic shenanigan's

mistletoe monday | december 27th: power outages, heavy snowfall, cuddling for warmth

tinsel tuesday | december 28th: alternate universes (neighbors, fix-it’s, no punisher, ect.)

winter wednesday | december 29th: cabins, candlelight, in hiding, protection (him or her), bed sharing

tradition thursday | december 30th: family, memories, angst, going home for christmas

festive friday | december 31st: relationship firsts (ex: first kiss, first time), new years eve

and that’s it! i went through my kastlechristmas messages to get a reminder of what the collective is into, and boy oh boy does the kastle fandom love some winter snuggles 😂😂 so, i’m excited to see what 2021 snuggles look like! also a note: you don’t need to fit every single prompt into each individual day. and you also don’t need to abandon a prompt idea from a separate day if it builds into your idea. (your ‘home for christmas’ prompt can be an established relationship, for instance, it’s all good) (this is not a picky event).

as always, you do not need to be able to write fic to participate in the event. you can draw, you can create edits or gifsets, you can create playlists to match the vibe of the prompt that day, you can create fan videos. anything you’re able to create is welcomed and loved!

[i will make a kastlechristmas 2021 collection on ao3, as we near the post date, as well, for people who write to add to.]

allllllllllllllllllllllllrighty~! have fun 💜💜

-- chey​

[onebatch2batch]

all hopeless with old coffee ~15k words kastle post-canon for kastlechristmas2k21 tradition thursday | family, memories, angst, going home for christmas

Frank’s hand, cupping the side of her face. Frank’s eyes, meeting her across the truck’s cabin. Frank’s mouth, forming soft words that she barely hears. And then he’s flipping the center console up and unbuckling her seat belt, dragging her across the seat towards him as he wraps her up in his arms. 

He smells like pine trees. 

“Breathe,” Frank is telling her, the word a soft caress on the shell of her ear. His hand rubs along her spine soothingly. “Just breathe, Karen.”

(Or, Karen's dad dies and she has to deal with the fallout. Thankfully, she's not doing it alone.)

[ninzied]

i’ll be your shoulder

foggy sits with frank in the hospital, waiting.

for sugarplum sunday: fluff, established relationship, domestic shenanigans. (bonus prompt: karen gets a little high on anesthesia.)

~3k.

Foggy’s endured some pretty hard things in his life.

When Matt left his ass to the wind during Frank Castle’s trial – that had been a challenge. In fact, it was one of the rougher moments of Foggy’s career, to say nothing of how their friendship had suffered for a while after.

Then there was the time Matt spent weeks letting everyone think he was dead. That didn’t help matters either.

There was the time Foggy and Marci decided to go on a break. She ended up taking a guy from his rival firm to their favorite restaurant, on their anniversary, and that – well, that was unforgivable. Until he found out she’d been plying the guy for information that would help Foggy win a tough case. And then they got back together, so in retrospect, it wasn’t so bad.

Then Karen gets it into her head to go after some congressman – and then she gets shot. In the arm, but still. Foggy is horrified when he gets a call from the hospital. He wishes he could wrap his friends up in bubble wrap or something. One of these days, it won’t just be the arm.

She’d listed Foggy as her emergency contact. A nurse speaks to him, then briefly puts Karen on the phone as they’re wheeling her in.

Over the sound of call bells in the background, Karen tells him she’s fine, and, “We got him, Foggy,” which is the least of Foggy’s concerns at the moment.

When he tells her as much, she brushes him off. And then she asks him to call Frank. As in Castle. As in Frank the Punisher Castle.

She gives him a number – she hadn’t wanted Frank’s contact info in any kind of traceable system – and Foggy doesn’t ask. The less he knows, the better.

But then he has to do arguably the most terrifying thing in his life, which is to call Frank, and tell him that Karen’s in the hospital.

continue on ao3.

[carry-the-sky]

merry and bright

summary

Foggy has seen his fair share of crazy shit— alien portals, ninjas, dudes with glowing fists and bulletproof skin, ninjas again. His best friend—who’s blind, by the way—spends his nights in a red spandex suit leaping across buildings and running down criminals. Foggy can’t say he’s used to any of it yet, but he’s getting there. 

Well, he was. Frank Castle standing in the entryway to Josie’s might just be the final straw. 

[read chapter one on ao3]

kastlechristmas 2021 || santa saturday | christmas parties with friends (hers), gift exchanges, definitely not a date (definitely)

happy holidays, kastle fam  ❄🎄❄ 🎄❄

Foggy has seen his fair share of crazy shit— alien portals, ninjas, dudes with glowing fists and bulletproof skin, ninjas again. His best friend—who’s blind, by the way—spends his nights in a red spandex suit leaping across buildings and running down criminals. Foggy can’t say he’s used to any of it yet, but he’s getting there. 

Well, he was. Frank Castle standing in the entryway to Josie’s might just be the final straw. 

His first thought is why now? That shitshow of a trial was eons ago; there’s no way Frank’s back because of that, right? It’s not Foggy’s fault the guy went ballistic up on the stand. And how the hell did he manage to track Foggy here? 

But then Foggy sees Karen standing next to Frank, her arm looped in his. 

Huh. This must be what having a stroke feels like.

Karen spots him across the bar and waves. He just saw her at the office yesterday, but she looks, well, different. Her hair’s a little curly at the ends, and even from over here, he can tell she’s wearing makeup. 

They’ve started walking toward him, and his brain kicks into overdrive, the past couple of weeks flashing behind his eyes like those flipbooks he used to make when he was a kid— Karen staring off into space at her desk, Karen’s face going tomato-red when Foggy asks if she finally caved and downloaded Tinder because she’s glancing at her phone every two seconds, Karen breezing into the office late, apologetic but also weirdly smiley—

Oh, no. No no no—

Frank turns his head, says something into Karen’s ear, and she laughs softly. 

Okay, this is what having a stroke feels like.

They’re ten steps away, and Foggy’s hit with the absurd urge to arm himself with something. Not that there’s any point; Frank could probably murder him with his pinky finger and make it look like an accident. Instead, Foggy casts a quick glance around. Marci’s over at the bar talking to Josie, and Matt’s not here yet, per usual. There are a few other people hanging around, but none of them have looked twice at Frank. Maybe it’s because the guy has an honest-to-God mountain man beard and is wearing— is that flannel? Whatever, the point is that he actually looks halfway normal, not bruised to hell and bleeding like the last time Foggy saw him.

Which is weird.

Maybe Josie slipped something into his beer. That would explain why he feels like he’s been hit over the head with something very heavy.

“Foggy?”

Karen’s voice. Karen’s right in front of him, and so is Frank. 

“Uh— hi?” Foggy manages to croak out, waggling his hand in a tiny wave.

Frank presses his lips into a thin line, like he’s trying not to smile, or something, which, yeah, okay, add that to the list, because up until this nanosecond, Foggy was convinced the guy did nothing but brood, yell, and shoot things. Specifically in that order.

Karen glances between him and Frank. “Foggy, you remember”—her eyes skitter around the bar— “you remember Pete?” 

Foggy’s mouth opens and closes a few times; then he’s bobbing his head like an idiot. “Pete! Totally remember Pete. Because that’s his name. Yep, no brand new information to process here at all.” 

Frank snorts, ducking his head, and Foggy swears he sees a flash of teeth. 

Well. At least one of them is enjoying themselves.

Karen gives Foggy a shaky smile that seems to say I’m sorry and please don’t freak out simultaneously, which is a mighty tall order, especially because now that he’s looking, he can see that they’re both holding what appear to be gift bags.

Karen follows the line of his eyes. “For the white elephant exchange,” she says, like this whole situation is completely normal and not what’s currently giving Foggy an aneurysm. “Unless— did we miss it? We’re a little late—” 

“Nope,” Foggy says weakly. “Not late. Uh, our table’s back there, you can just—” he gestures toward the back of the bar, eager for the excuse to put space between himself and the known mass murderer who apparently just crashed his Christmas party.

Frank must have ESP or something, because he takes a step back, jerking a thumb at the bar. “Gonna grab some drinks. See you back there?”

Karen bobs her head, watching as he walks away. When he’s out of earshot, she turns back to Foggy. “Okay, I know you must have a million questions—”

Foggy barks out a laugh. “Uh, yeah, you could say that. Let’s start with: why? And more importantly: how? And then maybe circle back to why again, because I feel like my head’s gonna explode.”

“I didn’t plan for this, if that’s what you’re asking.” Karen dips her head a little, hand darting to tuck her hair behind her ear in a gesture that Foggy instantly recognizes as nerves. “God, I don’t even know where to start.”

“Give me the Spark Notes version.”

It’s her turn to huff out a laugh. “I’m honestly not sure I can, Foggy. So much has happened since the trial, things that you and Matt didn’t—” she bites her lip. “There’s a lot more to his story than we thought. I got caught up in some of it.”

“Got caught up in? Or ran headfirst into?”

“That’s fair. A little of both, I guess.”

“Okay, that checks out. But that still doesn’t explain why he’s here. I thought the guy was still, you know—” he mimes a stabbing motion with his fist.

“He’s not,” Karen says simply. “Not anymore.” 

“So that’s why his name is Pete, now?”

Karen nods. “Clean slate.”

Foggy frowns. “And you’re— you’re okay? I mean, he’s not, like, holding you hostage, or something?” Karen quirks an eyebrow at that, and he holds his hands up. “Hey, just trying to determine if I should be calling the cops or trying to stage an intervention.”  

“Again, fair,” Karen laughs. Then her eyes soften. “I really am sorry for springing this on you.”

Foggy searches her face. As long as he’s known her, he’s never seen her with her guard completely down. He remembers sitting here with her a lifetime ago, listening to her talk about the city and its dark corners. She was alone, then. Alone and scared. She doesn’t seem to be either of those things right now.

Hell with it. Maybe Josie really did spike his drink, or maybe Foggy can’t bring himself to be mad when his best friend is looking at him like that, like she’s mentally bracing for impact, like she expects him to freak out or yell or tell her she’s crazy. Which— she is. But maybe that doesn’t matter. After the year Foggy’s had—the year all of them have had—maybe it’s enough that they’re here, together, safe. Maybe it’s enough to enjoy a hard-earned night out with people he loves. 

And Frank Castle.

Foggy heaves a sigh. “I’m not saying I understand, because I sure as hell don’t, but— if you’re happy, I’m happy. Or, I will be, after several more of these.” He lifts his beer, tries to give Karen a smile that says it’s totally fine and not at all insane that you’re maybe-possibly dating the freaking Punisher. 

Relief spills across her face, and she reaches out to squeeze his hand. “Thanks, Foggy.”

“Couldn’t have just downloaded Tinder like the rest of us, huh?” he asks as they make their way to the back of the bar. Marci has commandeered a spot by the pool tables; she’s waving them over eagerly. 

Karen smirks. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Fun. Yeah, scratch the beers. This is gonna be a drink-the-eel kind of night.