chuck burns

Black Eyes, Burnt Toast, part 2

Requested

Part 1

*Chuck-centric

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“Are the storm clouds an indication of your mood?”

You didn’t bother to look up at Chuck; you’d known he was there from the moment he’d appeared. “You know my type doesn’t control the weather.”

“I meant the storm clouds hanging around your head.”

You spared a glance at the curly-haired man standing next to you. “It’s been a rough few decades.”

Chuck nodded once. “May I sit?”

You turned your attention back over the pond, scooting slightly to the left on the bench. Chuck took your invitation and sat, the white plastic bag crinkling in his grip.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Surely you’ve seen the signs.”

“Signs?”

“There’s a war coming, Chuck.”

He nodded once. “This war has been happening for centuries, Y/N.”

“But it’s getting worse.”

This was true. Chuck had noticed and though he’d never tell anyone, he was worried. Worried for the sake of the Winchesters, the sake of the angels, the sake of… you.

“I guess my main concern,” you said, shaking Chuck from his own head. “Is that… I don’t know…”

“Don’t know what?”

“Which side to fight for.”

“But you’re–”

“Just because I’m something doesn’t mean I have to stay on that side.”

Chuck was surprised, but not overly so. He stared out over the water, watching the clouds gather and darken. “Well, a decision such as this shouldn’t be made on an empty stomach.”

You watched from the corner of your eye as Chuck pulled a Styrofoam box from the bag. He handed it to you, the bottom pleasantly warm against your hand. Popping open the box, you saw about twelve triangles of toast.

Burnt.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“Technically, I don’t have to do anything. But I wanted to.”

You picked up a piece, biting into the crisp corner. “Perfectly burnt. Just like always. Thank you, Marie.”

“The name’s Chuck.”

You turned. “What, you burned this?”

Chuck nodded.

“You… the all-powerful, all-mighty God… burned toast for me?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

You turned back, looking out over the pond. The clouds above were getting darker, but the cloud around your head was a little lighter.

anonymous asked:

songfic prompt that no one asked for? for any combination of Ronan/Adam/Kavinsky I guess: " I know you - I walked with you once upon a dream; I know you - the gleam in your eye is so familiar a gleam; and I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem; but if I know you, I know what you'll do - you'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream."

(I’ve never written a songfic before so i had no idea what i was doing but i did my best - thanks for the ask!!)

It was the strangest and saddest thing Kavinsky had ever seen. Ronan had brought the scholarship boy to his substance party. The dusty interloper didn’t fit in like Ronan did but, then again, no one had ever fit in at his parties quite like Ronan Lynch did. That didn’t stop Ronan from staring at Adam like he held the answers to all the questions of the universe.

The worst part – the unforgiveable part – was that Kavinsky was beginning to agree. He’d never interacted with Adam beyond the occasional exchanging of glares, but recently, he’d become a common sight in Kavinsky’s dreams. Whether it was Ronan’s obsession rubbing off on Kavinsky or something else entirely, Kavinsky couldn’t tell. The thought of Adam Parrish being significant alongside Ronan was one thing, the idea that he could be important independently was terrifying.

But, whenever Kavinsky feared something, he embraced it. He would rather be a reckless fool than a coward, so he walked towards where Ronan and Adam were sitting. With a knowing look on his face, Kavinsky sidled up to the pair and let his words fall smoothly from his lips. “Look what the cat dragged in. Dick’s second favorite pet.” Adam’s response, a blunt “Kavinsky”, didn’t disappoint. Kavinsky could have predicted that exact response. In fact, he had before, in his dreams. 

He was filled with a sense of perverse pride; being able to forge someone he didn’t know was more than skill, it was pure magic. Maybe Parrish was simply easily understood, nothing more than trailer trash, but it didn’t feel that way. The feeling of pride soon gave way to an unnerving feeling. He’d only met dream-Adam but Kavinsky felt like he knew real Adam Parrish.

I know you - I walked with you once upon a dream

Keep reading

I Love You, Still pt. 4

Pairings: Dean x Reader + (kind of) Chuck Bass
Words: 1,418
Part: 4/?
Warnings: Pretty sure there’s only one curse word.
Summary: It’s the morning of seeing Dean’s family for the first time in years, you’re trying to get some last minute wedding planning done, but Chuck and the wedding coordinator aren’t making it easy for you.
A/N: As mentioned before I’m doing the SPN Hiatus Writing Challenge and it’s week 3! I thought I’d catch up with this series for this prompt, I hope you enjoy it!  
Tags: @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @jensen-gal

MASTERLIST 


Your fingers comb through your hair in frustration, your lips purse together trying your hardest not to scream with rage. You flick through pages of bouquets and boutonnières of your choosing, crossing out the ones Chuck and the wedding planner disagree with red ink, you find that page after page is bleeding with red. “What about the blush and white roses with…” You trail off looking at the array of flower options, “Baby’s breath?”

“Oh no dear, that will not do. What we’ll do is the blush and white roses with a splash of baby eucalyptus to add some greenery. I’ll touch base with the florist and make sure our vision comes to reality.” A small alert pops up on your dash, a beautiful bouquet takes up your computer screen. Much to your dismay, Vinny’s vision is beautiful, almost a work of art.

“Very well.” You push away the bouquet catalogs, eyes scouring the table for the next obstacle to plan with the wedding coordinator. “Will the flowers on the altar match my bouquet?” You ponder looking over the arch Chuck and yourself decided on.

“In my professional opinion, I believe that white lisianthus would be not only the best -but prettiest option.” Your head nods in approval even though he couldn’t see your reaction to his recommendation.

“What about the flowers that are going to be hanging from the tree branches?” Silence is the only thing that fills the call, you wait intently for him to turn down your wish.

“Chuck and I decided awhile back that instead of hanging flowers, we’re going to hang fairy lights.” Vinny explains. Your face grows warm, unintentionally your hands clench together so tight the tips of your knuckles turn white.

“Why am I just now hearing about this? Don’t you think that this is information that the bride would need to know?” The words flow from your mouth like thick venom, the intensity of your rage flares, your whole body burns.

“Chuck thought that it would be a nice surprise for you. He wants this to be the best day of your life and everything to be perfect for the both of you.” Vinny pollutes your ears with his excuses, he’s flustered at your sudden anger with him.

“Is that so?” You cackle, “It seems to me that Chuck and you are planning a wedding and I’m not even apart of it. Every idea I’ve even brought to the surface you instantly reject my proposals-”

“Look, Y/N,” Vinny interrupts, “I know these are not your top choices, but your items just aren’t what’s hot right now. We need every source of media and entertainment to be on the both of you and you’re not giving me what the public is wanting.”

“With all do respect, Vinny, this is my wedding, and my vision -not yours, I don’t care what the media wants.” Your jaw is tight as you speak to him.

“Y/N, it’s just a wedding, what matters is the love you and Chuck share. The wedding is just an accessory.” Tears felt like lava burning in your eyes and at any given moment, you were going to explode.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot that this was your wedding. This is your career, so of course it’s just going to be a wedding for you, but for me? This should be the best day of my life and you’re ruining it by all of your ‘what the media wants’ bullshit. If you’re going to veto all of my choices, you might as well stop disturbing me with your calls.” Without a response you end the call and chuck the phone onto Dean’s couch. You let out a scream of frustration that bounced off walls and echoes through the apartment, your face falls into your hands accepting your defeat.

Could you be any louder?” Dean saunters into the living room holding steaming mugs, your hands quickly wipe away the few hot tears that cling onto your cheeks. “Hey, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” Dean leans beside you, carefully placing a mug on the only portion of table your papers weren’t covering.

“I can’t ever have a say,” Your voice is meek as you admit what’s been on your mind for the past few years, “Every choice I make is overshadowed by anything that comes out of Chuck’s mouth,” You chuckle to yourself, “I mean my wedding is hardly my own, the only thing that’s gone my way is the dress and that’s only because they haven’t seen it yet.” Dean peers at the collection of papers in front of you, eyeing everything thoughtfully. His fingertips brush over the dresses that belong to your bridesmaids and scour the twelve different menus nobody could agree on. He grasps onto a single photograph, a model is dressed in a white dress, your dress. Dean glances between you and the picture.

“Is this the dress?” You chuckle and dismiss his question with your hand.

“Hopefully, you know, if Vinny doesn’t see it and make me change it before the big day.” You slam the wedding folder shut and slide it away from you. Dean doesn’t let go of the picture, his eyes scan it multiple times, unwilling to tear his eyes away from it. “Oh god, you hate it too don’t you? I knew it was too much when I tried it on, is it the train? Vail maybe?”

“No!” His head snaps up, “Are you kidding me? It’s beautiful -you’re beautiful, and if anyone thinks otherwise they’re absolutely insane.” Your eyes search Dean’s face for a lie but could find nothing but honesty. “Come on, let’s clear your head.” He picks up the mugs and nods towards the couch, following you shortly after.

Your body melts into the cushions that have clearly been broken in for years, your limbs stretch until you’re finally comfortable. Warmth radiates itself through the glass and into the palms of your hands, it tingles your body as the liquid travels down your throat. Your legs lay upon Dean’s lap, his thumb traces circles absentmindedly on your shin, you can’t help but stare, in awe at his beauty.

You embrace the silence the world around you has to offer, quiet is something you’re no longer accustomed to. There are no loud sirens or constant honks from drivers, instead, you hear the chirping of birds and the leaves rustling with every gust of wind. Your mind finally feels at ease.

Both mugs were long past empty, the two of you became so engrossed with your conversations to notice how late in the afternoon it really was. Dean tidies the house up while you search through your luggage for a decent outfit to wear. When you emerge from his bedroom a smile stretches across his features as his eyes wander over you, heat rises to your cheeks at his intense gaze. “You look beautiful,” Dean blurts, his eyes bulge at his abrupt confession.

“Thank you,” Your eyes drop from his stare in embarrassment, “You look quite handsome yourself.” You weren’t entirely sure who you were admitting that to.

“Shall we?” Dean gestures towards the front door, the two of you were already behind schedule. You nod in response and follow him out to his Impala.

Baby pulled into the driveway all too soon. You suddenly forgot how to breathe when you saw the beloved Winchester house. A home away from home. You spent night after night here, had family dinners, played board games, late night cram sessions, you even read your acceptance letter into Yale in the living room to the family. You never dreamed of being in the driveway again. It’s almost as if you were meeting his parents for the first time all over again. Your legs are wobbly as you stand from the car, you quickly grab onto the door to regain your balance. You try your best to calm your raging nerves, but nothing seemed to be helping.

“Sweetheart?” Dean stands before you, eyes searching your face with concern, “I’m right here with you, there’s no need to be nervous.” Your eyes search his own, comfort cradles you as he laces his fingers with yours. You couldn’t help but cling to his hand as the two of you made your way up the steps, he gives your hand one last squeeze before he pushes through the door, you had no choice but to follow.

anonymous asked:

Hey hey! Happy new year! I was wondering if you could rec me some teddy x james and albus x scorpius?! Is there such a thing as long fics including these pairings? Thank you so much!

I would love to rec you some! I don’t get around to these pairings as often as I should. There are certainly long fics around, though not as many as I’d like. 

Albus x Scorpius:

There’s a great ship manifesto with some more recs here. And for more fics check out these rec lists: 1, 2, 3.

Teddy x James:

Some more rec lists: 1, 2, 3

Hope you enjoy them and have a happy new year!