bench slats

The River

Characters: CastielXAngel!Reader

Word Count: 1748

A/N: Tasked with peacefully conveying Castiel home to the halls of Heaven, you listen as he relates to you a children’s tale in order to illustrate why he must remain behind. I honestly don’t know what to categorize this as…maybe we’ll call it angelic banter with an underlying fluffy moral.


Seated on a slatted wooden bench situated at the outskirts of a quaint suburban park, a motionless spot of tan trench floating in a sea of lush grass, Castiel considered the carefully landscaped homogenous green-ness of the space stretching out before him. Even the bench and paved pathways were painted in a garish peeling emerald hue in apparent effort to make them stand out less and to further promote the unnatural uniformity of verdant color presiding over the scene. The whole effect of the scheme, rather than being unobtrusive to sight as the designer likely intended, was decidedly unsettling to the sense in its sameness. The angel had been enigmatically summoned here, by certified postal mail care of the Winchesters, to this peculiar park bench on what presented itself as a sunny Monday afternoon. He did not know exactly what or whom to expect at this mysterious meeting.

On the nearby playground, children played and shrieked wildly. Tiny bodies gesticulated on the monkey bars. Nimble legs kicked in a rhythmic rise and fall on the swing set. The avocado tinted metal slide squealed to announce every rider in the heat of the sun. A refreshing autumn breeze rustled the treetops surrounding the grounds. The leaves were just beginning to don their bold seasonal color – rebellious hints of red and yellow overhanging the edges of the park fence and threatening in protest to cast down their ruddy pigments any day into the unremitting green. The undulant air carried with it the occasional orange and black lined migrating Monarch butterfly in solitary fluttering travel south to overwinter. Castiel greatly admired the delicate winged creature’s resilient ability to endure the danger-fraught thousands of miles long journey across the states and into Mexico. He felt a certain kinship with their ability to survive this battering crossing of worlds.

“How long has it been, Castiel?”

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myfriendsalmostfoundmyblog  asked:

ust james n lily get caught in a storm and have to share a very very close tight space.... ;))

okay so clearly i don’t understand the concept of a drabble…oops? anyway this is slightly silly but literally the only scenario i could think of so enjoy 1.7k of ust jily!

“Potter, you fucking idiot.”

Lily Evans was pretty much the definition of furious at this exact point in time. Actually, she was certain that if you went to the library and found a dictionary, her disgruntled face would appear right under the word “angry”.

James Potter, for his part, looked a mixture of amused and scared as he backed away from her, palms raised in defence. “Listen, Evans,” he began, “I know this wasn’t the best idea -”

“What, so now you admit it?”

James had the decency to look sheepish, if only for a moment, “Well, yeah. The plan was to get you in here and teach you how to fly properly. Clearly I missed out some of the finer details, like how to stop my idiot friends from locking us into the pitch -”

“Oh, that’s just great. James Potter, master of pranks -”

“Why, Evans, I had no idea you thought so highly of me -”

“- didn’t consider the fact that Sirius Black is an idiot, and Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew are a pair of plotting wankers.”

James shrugged. “What can I say? It’s hard to notice your friends are evil when you’re usually in on their plans.”

Lily ignored him, huffing and sitting down in the middle of the pitch where the pair of them were. The grass tickled her bare shins and she scowled, thumbing along the edge of her skirt and looking anywhere but at Potter.

“Don’t you want to learn?” James asked. He sounded almost hurt now, which only irritated her further.

Yes, that’s why I asked you for help in the first place! I didn’t want to get locked in here with you.”

James flopped down in front of her, and - to her mild delight and dismay - took her hands in his. “Lily, I am sorry about the others. Honestly, I had no clue they were going to do this. But there’s lots of space, it’s not raining, and I’ve got a spare broom in the locker rooms.”

She took a deep breath. Truthfully, Lily was more embarrassed than angry - it wasn’t exactly ideal to be stuck anywhere with the boy she had a massive crush on.


“You jinxed it. You fucking jinxed it.”

Now she was mad.

“I didn’t jinx anything, Evans, Sirius nicked my wand and you know I haven’t quite mastered wandless magic yet -”

“Oh, shut up, Potter - it’s a figure of speech! You said ‘it’s not raining’ and now look outside!”

In unison, they turned their heads to the window of the locker room. The glass was being pelted with raindrops (which was probably hail) and Lily saw a bright flash of lightning that she almost wished would just strike her on the head so she could get out of this situation.

“I didn’t cause the rain, Lily, that’s ridiculous.”

You’re ridiculous,” she said, crossing her arms over her wet shirt. She was pretty certain that James kept staring, because her bra was very much visible under it, but somehow, this made her more smug than humiliated.

“I already said sorry -”

Lily groaned, “Okay, never mind. Isn’t there - I dunno - a radiator or something in here?”

“A what?” James’ eyes squinted in confusion behind his glasses.

Lily swore, “Wizards.”

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A Talk With a Friend

A/N: I had a request to write something with Tommy…I hope you like it.

Warning: you might need to have some tissues handy.

A Talk with a Friend

“Dude, you’ve got it bad.”

Oliver’s head jerks up and he glances to the side to find Tommy sitting on the park bench next to him. He glances around the sunny backyard of Queen Mansion. He didn’t hear his best friend approach.

“What are you talking about Tommy?”

His friend laughs and pats him on the back. “You have that stupid, lovestruck look I know I always wore around Laurel. Come to think of it, you used to look at Laurel that same way. But it’s not her this time.”

Oliver sighs, leaning back into the wooden bench, feeling the slats against his back, running a hand through his hair. “No. It’s not, but it doesn’t matter because nothing can happen.”

“Why not? You love her, she loves you. I’m not seeing the problem here buddy.”

“It’s not that simple, Tommy. Because of what I do-“

“Don’t give me that bullcrap! This is just your commitment issues speaking.” Tommy claps him on the back with a shit-eating smile. “What’s new is that you actually want something serious with this girl.”

“Tommy…”

“No. You’re too thick headed to make a move because of your perceived threats to her life. Here’s the problem, Oliver: She’s willing to risk it. She’s in danger every day, yet for some reason she stays. I’m your best friend and even I couldn’t sit down there every night and help you do what you do. The two of you are something special.”

“Tommy-“

“No.” He doesn’t raise his voice, just holds out a hand to stop his friend. “Oliver, here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to tell her that the ‘I love you’ wasn’t a ruse. Then, you’re going to ask her on a date, take her out to a nice dinner, and then kiss her when you say goodnight, like a proper gentleman. You’re going to do this right.”

“I don’t-“

“Oliver Jonas Queen, you are going to do this. I called you a murderer, but she has turned you into something greater: a hero, a symbol. She did something Laurel and I couldn’t do. And I think you know that. Stop being an idiot.”

“How-“

“Oliver, stop making excuses and just do it. That’s what you do best. Just act, don’t think.”

Oliver laughs, shaking his head. “I’m just…” He flounders for the right word.

“Nervous?” Tommy chuckles at his best friend’s startled expression. “Let me guess, there are butterflies assaulting your stomach and you can’t think straight. You’re torn between wanting to thoroughly kiss her and wanting to run away from the intensity of your feelings. You can’t form coherent sentences around her. You’d give anything to see her smile and scare away her fears. You can’t stop smiling when she looks at you. You can’t keep your eyes off her when you’re in the same room.”

Oliver’s smile softens as he thinks back to his girl and her life-brightening smile, her adorable rambling, and her love of colors.

“Face it, Ollie: You’re in love.” Tommy claps his buddy on the back again, a sad smile on his face that Oliver is oblivious to. “So as soon as you wake up, ask her out. Don’t waste another second.”

Oliver nods, confident smile back in place. Then he actually listens to the words. “Wake up? What do you-“

“OLIVER! DON’T YOU DIE ON ME!” Felicity’s voice pierces the dream, echoing around the scene as it wavers, like a bad TV connection.

Oliver turns back to Tommy, finally noticing the sorrow in his eyes. With startling clarity he remembers finding his friend dying in the collapsed CNRI building. His eyes start to tear up. “Tommy-“

“It was good talking to you, buddy. Take good care of your girl.”

Taking a shocked breath, Oliver sits straight up. The pristine mansion lawns have been replaced with the cold, dark city. He’s soaking wet with Felicity and Digg leaning over him, both of them obviously breathing easier than a few seconds before. Felicity throws herself into his arms and he wraps her in a hug, the image of his best friend still lingering in his eyes.

“Thank God! I thought we had lost you for a second there.”

“Me too,” Oliver whispers into her hair.

She pulls back and pokes him angrily in the chest. “Don’t you ever scare me like that ever again.”

He nods somberly and lets them help him up, forcing himself to walk normally without their help. Digg walks ahead to get the car, but Tommy’s words echo in Oliver’s head and he grabs Felicity’s arm to pull her back. Her eyes are full of love and worry as they meet his and it takes his breath away. The butterflies return full force and he has to swallow past his sore throat to speak.

“Felicity, would you like to go to dinner tomorrow night, well I guess it’s technically tonight, but dinner…with me?”

He waits with baited breath as she contemplates him before she beams and he can’t help but smile back. “You mean, like a date?

“Yes…a date.” The word doesn’t sound real to Oliver, like this is more a dream especially when she nods in consent and the whole world seems a bit brighter. He’s walking on clouds for the rest of the night.

Tommy stands beside his best friend and pats him on the back. He knows Oliver can’t feel it, but he’s happy for his friend. The stupid lunk just needed some sense smacked into him and Tommy’s glad he was the one who got to do it. It looks like his work here is done. “Just don’t mess it up, Oliver.” 

it's about time

entangled among the english ivy
within the shadow of a sundial
i spent a few seconds
summing up what used to be hours
and how I have sat pondering
the endless infinity of the used to be
where only a wood slat bench
and the bent arms of wrought iron
could embrace those whispered writings
where the minute lettering
left my hands long before you had
for I wrote that which was and would have come
but if she ever asked the meaning
intentions would be concealed
with the lie that
it’s about time

With This Ring Ch 5 - Larry

A/N Rather naughtily, I’ve posted this without my lovely beta seeing it - surprise! Therefore, all mistakes are my own!

Also on FF.NET and AO3

“What?” Killian asked as he pulled his sunglasses over his eyes.

“Nowt mate, you’re just rather quiet, even for you.”

Killian grimaced slightly, not really in the mood for a Will Scarlett grilling, glad his eyes were hidden behind the dark lenses. “Just tired,” he quipped, giving his friend a pointed look.

Clearing his throat, Will seemed surprisingly a little bashful, “You know what it’s like when you’ve had a few beers with your lass…”

“Actually, I don’t,” Killian replied.

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