A/N: For when you are writing, working, or studying and need a little encouragement. This is an image I often have which helps me and I felt it translated well into an SPN fic. Enjoy and please give feedback!
‘Oh for fucks sake.’ You blurted out, rather more loudly than you had intended.
Chuck looked up from the newspaper he was reading, mouth full of doughnut, and watched you.
You let out an exasperated groan and buried your face in Your hands, elbows resting on the table.
He finished his mouthful. 'What’s up?’ He asked with a little optimistic sparkle twinkling in his voice.
You loved it and you hated it all at once.
'This is fucking stupid!’ You said into the heels of your hands.
You had been working for what felt like hours now. Nothing was making sense anymore and the words you were writing seemed jumbled and tangled up on the laptop screen before you.
Wordlessly, Chuck stood up and made his way over to you. He placed his hand on your shoulder and squeezed.
'I can’t do this!’ You said, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes.
'You can,’ he said softly. You huffed in response. 'And I happen to know these things,’ he added.
He swept your hair off your shoulders and tenderly combed his fingers through it.
He looked at your screen and scanned his eyes over it.
'Read it back to me,’ he said, both hands now sliding onto your shoulders.
As you read the tumble of words out, chuck listened carefully, pressing his thumbs into your shoulder blades in controlled circles.
He worked out the tension in your muscles and you felt yourself slowly relax beneath his hands.
You finished what you were reading and looked up at him over your shoulder.
He seemed to be deep in thought, thumbs poised but not moving now.
'It’s not crap,’ he said. 'That makes perfect sense.’
Chuck squeezed your shoulder. 'Don’t worry so much. You’re better than you give yourself credit for.’
'Ok, but I have no idea where to go from here. I’m stuck.’
He kissed the top of your head and sighed into your hair.
He placed a hand on either shoulder again. 'You can do this.’
You stared at the screen before you, the last sentence you’d written spinning through your mind.
Just write words, you thought. And you began to type.
Chuck let go of you and pulled up a chair to sit beside you. He read over your shoulder as you typed, saying things like 'that’s good’ and 'I like that,’ pointing at the screen with the new doughnut he had somehow acquired.
Occasionally he would hum thoughtfully.
'That’s not what you mean,’ he would say. Or 'use a different word there.’
He placed his hand on your back and fussed with your hair as you worked, never once taking his focus from you.
After an indefinite amount of time, you sat back in your chair with a sigh of relief.
'I think it’s done,’ you declared.
'I knew you could do it,’ Chuck said, squeezing your shoulder.
He pulled you into the squishiest hug and held you for a long time.
'Thank you,’ you mumbled into his chest.
'I made you,’ he added after a few more minutes of holding you. 'I know what you are capable of, and I’m so proud of you.’
Let me know if you want to be added to a list. I may be writing more Chuck… and possibly Rob.
