i'll do the rest tomorrow i promise

anonymous asked:

OMG 18? Like shawn is crying and y/n comforts him????? Ahhhh im already dying!

sure!! 

“it’s okay to cry…” 


lately things have been hard for shawn. he’s been getting frustrated with everything and he’s just been over all stressed out. you weren’t really  sure what was causing him stress, he’s refused to tell you anything. every time you asked, he answered with a simple “i’m fine.” and walked into his office. 

you thought maybe it was something you did, but you couldn’t recall doing anything to possibly upset him. maybe it was work again, he had a new tour coming up and he just released new music. 

he came home from the studio about an hour ago at a late hour, locking himself in his music room/office and he hasn’t come out since. 

deciding you’ve had enough, you get up from your shared bed, wrapped a blanket around you, and went to find him. you knocked first, but after not receiving an answer, you barged in.

you found your boyfriend staring at his computer, with tears falling down his face. your heart broke at the sight. he noticed you as soon as you walked in, and quickly wiped his tears away. 

“y/n, i thought you were sleeping. it’s late, you should rest.” 

you sighed, “i could say the same to you shawn.”

you stood behind him, starting to massage his shoulders and back. he sighed contently, “that feels nice.”

you noticed he had about 15 tabs open on his computer and a massive stack of paperwork on the desk.

“shawn, what’s up?” 

he takes one more look at his computer, his eyes already starting to tear up again. 

“hey,” you said soothingly as he pulled you onto his lap. “it’s okay to cry.” 

he wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your neck. you felt your shirt slowly becoming damp from his tears. you continued to rub his back as he cried, you weren’t sure what to say but you wanted to let him know you were there. 

“there’s just so much to do in so little time,” he sobbed. “everyone is going to be disappointed in me. i feel so alone, nobody understands how much pressure is on me right now. i can’t take it anymore y/n.” 

“nobody is going to be disappointed in you shawn, the fans will understand and so will everyone else. you’re not alone, you’ve got so many great people supporting you. i know there’s a lot of pressure with the new song, but all that matters is what you think and what the fans think, right? and they love it.” 

you knew he wanted everything to be perfect for his fans, but you also knew they would understand if thing’s ever got too much.

he raised his head so he was eye level with you, his eyes were still red and puffy and there were a few tears still coming down his face.  you quickly wiped them away, pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

“i love you, you always know what to say.” he whispered, kissing your lips a couple times. 

“i love you too.” you say, standing up. “now, let’s go to bed, and tomorrow i’m talking to andrew about getting you a few days off.” 

ladytharen  asked:

13 - a kiss pressed to each fingertip - for ye olde rebelcaptain please

The wound splices his side, winding its way from his navel, through his ribs, to the harsh jut of his collarbone. It’s deep enough that it remains on his skin even after hours in the bacta tank—faded and brown, a sharp reminder of how close she had come to losing him.

She squeezes himself into his cot in the medbay, desperate to draw him closer to her—to feel his heartbeat under her palm—but wary of the scar, of the little hiss of pain he gives at every small movement. Blood is surging in her ears, and even though he’s here beside her, now, all she can see each time she closes her eyes is the way he stumbled when he was struck, the wild horror in his eyes.

“Jyn,” Cassian murmurs. He’s tired, pale, instructed not to move, but he reaches for her hand nonetheless. “Are you alright?”

She nods. How could she say anything different? Her flesh is intact, her bones unbroken; she’s not the one who almost died today.

Gently, he lifts her hand and presses his lips to her index finger.

“Jyn.”

He moves to the next fingertip; soft lips and stubble brush her skin.

“I’m alright.”

The next, the next.

“I promise.”

She refuses to let her eyes well up, refuses to give him any more reason to worry about anything but his own recovery. She bites the inside of her cheek, tightening her grip on his fingers.

“I know.”

for platonic vld month day two: home


Home, Pidge’s mind wanders, is where the heart is. At least that’s what people say.

If, two years ago, you’d asked Katie Holt where her home was she might have (considering multiple things) given you her address. Now though, Pidge wasn’t sure if she had a home.

Home – noun: the place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household.

You could say that the Castle is her home; as everyone on the Castle are practically her family. However, she won’t live here forever.

Will I live anywhere forever?

As soon as Zarkon is defeated there won’t be any use for Voltron. If she doesn’t find Matt and her dad before Zarkon is gone, she’ll have to find them by herself. Maybe Shiro – or the other paladins – would help.

But Pidge misses home, and mom’s hugs, dad’s bad jokes, and she especially misses Matt’s teasing.

‘You’re never going to come up to my chin,’ Matt had teased, and Pidge, at the time, had been angered. Over the course of a year or more, Pidge thinks she’s grown up to Matt’s chin.

Pidge knows Matt will still rest his arm on her shoulder, though.

If he’s even still alive.

She shoves the thought to the back of her mind, urging herself to get up and do something, anything, but her body feels heavy, but tiredness clings to her body like a dead weight. So she lays still, staring blankly at the ceiling, and tries not to cry.

Probably a Poem Sarya Wrote for Solas (most likely)

I don’t want to be your moon

A reflection of you

And I don’t want to be your sun

Out shining all you do


I want to be your earth

The place you rest your head

I want to be your rain

That waters you instead


I want to see you grow and change

Like the seasons in a year

Let the rains come, let the sun shine

And the winter’s wind bring fear


For you are you

And I am me

And together

We make we.


*inktober Day 11*

angelskee  asked:

Hey could you do number 4 with Nalu. Thanks!

Number 4: Pet Names (endearments)

“Hey Luce? Where did you put that bottle of dye for the prank on Erza?”

Lucy sighed, glancing up from her paper and pen.

“In the cabinet. She’s gonna paint the guild walls with your insides, you know that, right?” 

His toothy grin answered her, and she sighed again. “Honey, please rethink this. I don’t want to have to claim being widowed and have to look for another husband.”

Natsu shook his head with a wide grin and a chuckle. “No can do, Lu! Now it the time to strike! She’s all frazzled now that Jellal is coming to visit!” He cackled and drummed his fingers together with a devilish gleam in his eyes.

“Weirdo. Don’t be so worried.”

Lucy scowled and looked away. “Idiot, I’m going to worry. Erza is going to grind your bones and bake them into a strawberry cake.”

He laughed and moved to the blonde woman’s side, slinging an arm over her shoulder. “Why, is Wifey worried I won’t make it back in time for supper?” He teased with a nuzzle to her cheek.

Lucy huffed and shoved his face away, ignoring his squawks. “Husband is being reckless.”

At this, a tender smile crossed the dragon slayers face as he rested his head on hers. “I’ll be back, Lucy. I promise.”

Rolling her eyes and pushing her head against his, she replied softly, “Just don’t die, Natsu. Erza will try to annihilate you for dying her hair orange.”