Ravenclaws can always tell when someone had been in their personal space when they’re not there. It’s always the the thing that’s just the slightest bit off. It mostly annoys Gryffindors when they’re trying to surprise them.
I feel like Rick is that asshole on Halloween who would would scare the shit out of little kids who were coming up to the door to get candy, and would eat all of Morty’s candy in the middle of the night, a la Jimmy Fallon’s Halloween Candy Prank.
(Original photo by Kyle Meck on instagram. I claim no ownership and mean no harm in borrowing it for this drabble.)
Even the Trees
It’s such a Castle thing to do, bringing the French press
on a camping trip, but when he makes her the very first cup, she’s impressed.
Very impressed. Somehow, the fact that the water was boiled over a wood fire makes
it taste better. Earthier. More robust.
“Not bad, Castle,” she says over the rim of
her mug, watching his shoulders lift with pride beneath the cozy plaid flannel
shirt he wears (and wears very well). “I think you and I might just
manage to make it out of these woods alive if you keep making coffee like
Her partner’s laughter echoes through the
campsite, bouncing off the bark of the trees, spreading a warmth through her
belly that not even the coffee can match. There’s something earthy about his
amusement, too, more robust out here in the woods, less put upon and flashy.
Just him. Just like the coffee he’s pouring into the second mug.
She might just kiss him before breakfast is
over if he keeps laughing like that, if he keeps looking at her with those soft
(But she’s going to need a story about why his
mug says ‘get well soon’ - like pronto.)
She sat up leaning against him first. “Can I lay down with you?”
“If you want to.” He drew her down where they lay together watching Dracula. Keeping his hands to himself.
Ten minutes later she asked, “Toby, can I sleep with you?”
“If that’s what you want.” He kissed her neck. How did she keep a constant scent of roses? He inhaled deeply.
She rolled her head lazily back to him. “Kiss me, my fool.”
He leaned up and obliged. “I love you, Beautiful.”
“I love you. I love the way we are together.” Tired and comfortable, she closed her eyes and kept talking. “We’re going shopping tomorrow for furniture, I’m so excited.” She wiggled her butt against him.
“OH! Dear gods, so are you!” she squeaked.
Caught off guard, a deep laugh escaped him. “You’d have cause to worry if I wasn’t, hmm, Miss Wiggles?” He nuzzled into her neck, sprinkling kisses, lulled by the faint scent of roses. Sometimes it hurt how much he loved her, his chest so tight he could barely breathe. He couldn’t remember how he ever lived without her, but he never would again.
She planted herself solidly against him with just a little trepidation and pulled the blanket up over them. He nestled his arm under hers to lie comfortably across her clasped hands over her chest. She was completely wrapped in him. There was no experience for her to compare this to. They wordlessly watched old horror flicks until they fell asleep.