#shawn hastings

[culper-spymaster]

Can I just say that Shawn Hastings needs to write history books?

[northernnlightss]

Dylan aged up to a teenager 🎂

Grandma Alyssa taking care of little baby Shawn🫶🏼

[detectivejay]

Another from the list of polls I've been wanting to start, this time about your favorite "Watson" or sidekick character in a detective or mystery related piece of media! They can be an adaptation of John Watson or an entirely different character who fills that role, so long as they have a Sherlock-type partner they work with to complete that dynamic.

I can't possibly cover every Watson type character, especially since Tumblr polls only give me 12 options, so I've filled out some on the top of my mind or ones that are more famous, and then there's the "Other" option to support any favorites not on the list.

There's several John Watson adaptations where he's pretty close to the book canon, so I haven't listed all separately here, mostly just ones where there's a more distinct change (modernization, etc.) or he has more focus.

So without further ado:

Please reblog for a larger sample size :)

[mcntsee]

Schön

Summary: Kaz calls y/n by the nickname he gave her during their childhood for the first time in years.

Context: Schön (and correct me if I’m wrong please) means pretty in German and it’s pronounced ‘Shawn’ (kinda). As far as I know, Ketterdam is based off Amsterdam (and well, Antwerp, Las Vegas, London, and old New York). I don’t know Dutch, but I know a little bit of German, and I believe Dutch and German are very similar so I’m using German as “Kerch”.

Warnings: Kinda ooc Kaz, kaz is ok with y/n’s touch. Stabbing, blood, killing.

Note: This was a request! Prompt 18. “You haven’t called me that in years.” from this list.

Y/N's heart raced as she darted through the crowded streets of Ketterdam, her small legs carrying her as fast as they could. Panic consumed her as she glanced over her shoulder, catching sight of the men chasing after her. Tears welled up in her eyes as she tried to escape their grasp.

In her frantic haste, Y/N's foot caught on an uneven cobblestone, causing her to stumble and fall. Pain shot through her knee as it scraped against the rough ground, leaving behind a raw, deep red mark. Her cries mixed with the hustle and bustle of the city, but they caught the attention of a boy.

Kaz observed the scene from a distance. At first, he contemplated walking away, dismissing the young girl's predicament as not his concern. However, something stirred within him when he saw her silently sobbing while attempting to clean her injured knee. Approaching cautiously, Kaz extended a trembling hand towards Y/N, offering to help her up. "Need a hand?" he asked, his voice devoid of its usual harshness.

Y/N's watery eyes widened at the unexpected act of kindness. Sniffling, she nodded, placing her small hand in his. Kaz pulled her upright, his touch surprisingly gentle despite his usual guarded nature. "Why were you running?" Kaz inquired, his gaze scanning their surroundings.

Y/N hiccuped, her voice shaky. "Scary men are after me. They want to take me away." Kaz's eyes narrowed as he spotted the menacing figures in the distance. Without hesitation, he grabbed Y/N's covered wrist and tugged her along. "Come with me," he said, leading her towards a dilapidated building tucked away in an alley.

As they reached their temporary hideout, Y/N gazed curiously at their surroundings. "Where are we?" she asked, peering at the crumbling walls and cracked windows.

Kaz hesitated for a moment, unsure how to answer. "This is... my home. Well, at least for now," he responded, his tone uncharacteristically soft. The girl’s eyes widened in awe and curiosity. "Your home? It's so... interesting."A flicker of a smile ghosted across the young boy’s face. "Interesting is one way to put it."

As they sat side by side, waiting for the commotion to die down, Y/N's curiosity got the better of her. "What's your name?" she asked, her voice filled with childlike wonder. Kaz pondered for a moment, then replied, "It's a secret."

Y/N giggled, finding the secrecy amusing. "Then I won't tell you mine either."

A mischievous glint danced in Kaz's young eyes. "That’s alright, I’ll just call you…” He paused for a second, multiple words racing through his mind “Schön.” He decided. Y/N's face lit up, a radiant smile spreading across her features. "I like that.”

As Kaz and Y/N's lives entwined further within the shadows of Ketterdam, there came a time when the walls they had erected around their names and true selves began to crumble. In a quiet moment, under the veil of secrecy that shrouded them, they revealed their true identities to each other.

Kaz, once guarded to the point of secrecy, shared his name with Y/N. His voice, usually cold and distant, softened as he spoke the words. Y/N reciprocated, unveiling her own name, removing the barrier that had separated them for so long.

With this newfound trust, the nickname "schön" that Kaz had lovingly bestowed upon Y/N became less frequent. Instead, their true names became the melody that carried their conversations.

As they continued their clandestine operations, the connection between Kaz and Y/N deepened further. Their everyday interactions held a sense of familiarity and ease, as if they were two halves of a whole, inextricably linked by a bond that defied the chaos around them.

Within the safety of their unspoken understanding, Kaz and Y/N discovered a mutual admiration that transcended friendship. They found solace in each other's presence, their souls resonating in harmony. In the stolen moments, their gazes lingered a little longer, and even though rarely, their touches held a hint of tenderness that spoke of something more.

But both Kaz and Y/N knew the risks that came with love, the dangers that accompanied such vulnerability. In a world as treacherous as theirs, they had witnessed the consequences of affection, the ways it could be exploited and used as a weapon. And so, they buried their growing feelings deep within their hearts, locking them away, hidden even from each other.

Y/N sat by the bar at the Crow Club, the dim lights casting a soft glow upon her thoughtful expression. Her fingers absentmindedly traced the delicate necklace hanging from her neck, the pendant swaying gently with each movement. It was a treasured possession—a gift from Kaz, given to her during their youthful days.

The necklace held a special significance, a secret that only Y/N carried. Its pendant, adorned with a subtle elegance, bore the word “schön” engraved upon it. It was a word that had once fallen from Kaz’s lips, a nickname he had lovingly bestowed upon her when they were younger.

As Y/N’s fingertips danced along the engraved letters, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia. The necklace, like a cherished memory, held the power to transport her back to a time when they were just children navigating the streets of Ketterdam.

In those fleeting moments, Y/N recalled the innocence of their friendship and the unwavering bond they had forged. Kaz’s cold facade had momentarily thawed, revealing a side of him that only she had the privilege of witnessing. His voice, soft and tender, had once whispered the endearing nickname that had become etched upon her heart.

Y/N missed those simpler times when she was “schön” to Kaz, a word that spoke volumes about the connection they shared.

As Y/N lost herself in thought, a voice interrupted her reverie. Jesper, with his mischievous grin, approached her at the bar. “Hey there, what have you got there?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.

Y/N glanced up, her fingers still wrapped around the necklace. “Oh, it’s just a necklace,” she replied, offering a small smile.

Jesper leaned in closer, his eyebrows raised. “I’ve never seen you wear it before.“

Y/N paused, contemplating how to explain the significance of the necklace. “Well, It’s a gift from someone special so,” she answered softly. “I keep it tucked under my shirt most of the time so I won’t lose it.”

A playful smirk played on Jesper’s lips as he extended his hand, his eyes gleaming with interest. “Well, let me have a look, then.“

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then placed the pendant delicately in Jesper’s outstretched palm. “It’s nothing extraordinary,” she said with a shrug. “Just something that holds sentimental value.”

Jesper’s fingers traced the engraved word, and a smile spread across his face. “Schön? That’s ‘pretty’ cute,” he remarked, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of playfulness.

Y/N laughed, a light and genuine sound escaping her lips. “Yes, I suppose it is,” she agreed, the memories of Kaz’s endearing nickname resurfacing.

Before Jesper could ask anymore questions, a commanding voice cut through the air, instantly demanding their attention. It was Kaz, his presence like a dark shadow casting itself over the room.

“Y/N, Jesper,” Kaz’s voice rang out with authority. “Both in my office.”

Without hesitation, they followed Kaz through the crowded bar and up the stairs, making their way to his office. The familiar surroundings were filled with maps, blueprints, and other intricate tools of their trade. Kaz outlined the details of a new heist, weaving a web of intricate plans, contingencies, and potential obstacles. His words painted a picture of danger and reward, enticing them with the promise of triumph and the thrill of outwitting their adversaries.

After the intense brainstorming session, the trio emerged from the confines of Kaz’s office, their minds buzzing with the intricacies of the heist. The plan had taken shape, a delicate dance of strategy and execution waiting to be set into motion.

They navigated the winding streets of Ketterdam with practiced ease, each step purposeful and calculated. In the shadows, their presence was barely noticeable, as if the very streets themselves conspired to cloak their intentions.

Their destination loomed ahead—the opulent mansion of a wealthy merchant, their target for the heist. The building stood as a testament to opulence, its grandeur beckoning like a siren’s call, but to Kaz it was simply a puzzle waiting to be solved.

As they slipped into the shadows separating, their steps became as one, a choreographed dance of precision and finesse. They evaded the watchful eyes of the mansion’s guards, navigating the labyrinthine corridors and secret passages that lay hidden beneath the veneer of luxury.

Their senses were momentarily clouded by the thrill of success. Unbeknownst to them, a lone guard had caught sight of their presence and stealthily trailed one through the labyrinthine corridors.

As Y/N turned a corner, she found herself face to face with the guard, their eyes locked in a tense standoff. Without a moment’s hesitation, they engaged in a hand-to-hand combat, their bodies fluid and poised, each maneuver executed with calculated precision.

Y/N’s agility and skill propelled her forward, her blows landing with calculated force. She fought valiantly, her determination unyielding, unaware of the danger that lurked within her blind spot.

A sharp pain exploded through Y/N’s leg as the blade of the guard’s dagger pierced her flesh, causing her to double over in agony. Before she could fully comprehend the gravity of her injury, another searing pain ripped through her side as the guard’s blade found its mark once more.

Y/N’s vision blurred, and her body weakened under the assault. Each breath became a struggle, her movements slowed by the relentless pain coursing through her. Yet, she refused to surrender. Drawing upon every ounce of strength and resilience, she fought through the haze of pain, her determination fueling her every move.

In a moment of distraction, the guard, believing victory was imminent, let his guard down. It was in this moment that Y/N seized the opportunity. With gritted teeth, she mustered her remaining strength and, with a swift motion, snatched the dagger from her side, clutching it tightly in her hand.

Silently, her eyes ablaze with fierce determination, Y/N struck back, the blade finding its mark as she swiftly cut the guard’s neck. The fight ended as abruptly as it had begun, the guard collapsing to the ground in a lifeless heap.

Y/N stood there, panting heavily, the pain from her wounds throbbing relentlessly. As she pressed a hand against her side, trying to stem the bleeding, Y/N fought against the pain that threatened to overpower her, fighting against the urge to cry out. The cloak of silence that shrouded her actions was her only defense, ensuring that no additional guards would be alerted to their presence.

With every ounce of strength she could muster, Y/N made her way outside, her hand pressed against her side, desperate to find Kaz and Jesper. As she stepped into the cool night air, her eyes scanned the dimly lit street, searching for a familiar figure.

And then she saw him.

Kaz stood there, a bag of stolen goods slung over his shoulder. Relief washed over Y/N as she caught sight of him, her tense muscles finally finding respite in his presence. For a brief moment, she let her guard down, allowing herself a semblance of relaxation.

But as her body weakened and her vision blurred, Kaz was not prepared for the sight that followed. Y/N’s strength waned, her legs unable to bear the weight of her injuries any longer. With a sudden collapse, she fell to her knees, the pain and blood loss overwhelming her.

Kaz’s sharp eyes caught the sudden motion, and his heart twisted with concern. He wasted no time, his strides purposeful and swift as he closed the distance between them. Kneeling beside Y/N, he carefully assessed her injuries, his eyes revealing a mixture of worry and determination.

“Y/N,” Kaz’s voice, usually composed and collected, trembled with unspoken emotion. He gently cradled her, supporting her weakened form with a tenderness that belied his reputation. “Can you walk back to the slat?”

Y/N, determined to prove her resilience, nodded weakly. With a trembling arm draped over Kaz’s shoulder, she summoned the last vestiges of her strength and attempted to rise to her feet. “Jesper?” Each step was a struggle, but for a while, she managed to shuffle forward, her willpower pushing her onward. “I told him to go to the slat. He was getting angsty.”

However, with every passing moment, Y/N’s strength waned, her body succumbing to the relentless toll of her injuries. The once steady rhythm of her footsteps became unsteady, her grip on Kaz tightening as her body threatened to give way.

Kaz’s caught the subtle signs, the flicker of her fading consciousness and the growing frailty of her form. Panic laced his voice as he implored, “Schön, don’t do this to me.”

The word “schön” slipped from Kaz’s lips, a poignant echo of their shared history. Y/N, her voice barely above a whisper, managed to utter a response. “You haven’t called me that in years.” she murmured, her voice tinged with a mixture of nostalgia and vulnerability.

Those words hung in the air, a testament to the time that had passed and the unspoken desires that had lingered between them. A fragile thread that connected their hearts.

With a strength born of desperation, Kaz adjusted his hold on Y/N, his arms wrapping more securely around her trembling frame. As her body grew weaker, he carried her weight, refusing to let her fall.

“I know,” Kaz murmured softly, “I just… I like the sound of your name better.“ Y/N, her strength waning, mustered a faint smile, even amidst the pain and fatigue. The tender words Kaz spoke reverberated within her, a balm to the weariness that threatened to claim her. “Stay with me,” Kaz pleaded, his voice filled with a desperate determination.

Y/N, her breaths coming in shallow gasps, managed to respond through gritted teeth. “Just keep talking to me, Kaz.” He nodded, his gaze locked on Y/N’s face, his words a lifeline in the darkness that threatened to engulf them.

“Remember when we first met?”

Y/N managed a weak laugh, her voice barely audible. “How could I forget? You were my knight in shining armor, rescuing me from that terrifying man. I knew then you were the bravest person I’d ever meet.” her grip on Kaz’s arm tightening.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Kaz’s lips, a rare display of warmth in his eyes. “Did the scar on your knee ever go away? I don’t think I ever asked.” Her gaze shifted down to her knee, where the faint scar remained covered as a testament to their first encounter. “No,” she replied softly “it’s still there.”

As they continued their walk back to the slat, the weight of Y/N’s condition became more pronounced. Kaz’s voice grew more urgent, realizing that her eyes were taking longer to open with each blink. “Did I ever tell you how I got your necklace?”

Y/N’s weakened voice murmured a barely audible “no,” but her curiosity piqued.

“I stole it.” As Kaz’s words hung in the air, he paused, his gaze shifting to Y/N, only to find her already looking at him. Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them, as if they were sharing a moment that transcended time itself. “I saw it on a stand, shining and beautiful. At first, I tried to collect enough money to buy it. I saved every kruge, counted every coin. But in the end, I realized I would never have enough. So, I took it. For you.”

A fleeting smile graced Y/N’s lips. She reached a bloody, trembling hand to touch the necklace that hung around her neck, the metal cool against her skin. “It means more to me than you can imagine.”

In the lingering silence that enveloped them, Y/N felt the darkness inching closer, threatening to claim her consciousness. Determined to hold on, she summoned her remaining strength and mustered the courage to break the silence.

“Why ‘Schön’?” Y/N’s voice, soft and delicate, pierced through the quietude, carrying a hint of curiosity and vulnerability.

Kaz’s gaze shifted to her, and though his demeanor remained guarded, a flicker of something akin to a blush danced across his features. He hesitated for a moment, as if considering his response, before finally meeting her eyes and speaking with a raw honesty that melted the icy walls around his heart.

“Because you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen,” Kaz confessed. A gentle smile tugged at Y/N’s lips, a playful glimmer dancing in her eyes. She couldn’t resist teasing him, even in their current circumstances. “Was?” she teased, her voice tinged with a playful challenge.

A hint of a deeper blush colored Kaz’s cheeks, his usual composure momentarily wavering. “Still are.”

[tolietpaperdreams]

Warned You Chapter 3 (Shawnter)

*rubbing my grubby hands together* Finally, this fic is starting to feel right, I fought the good fight and I won. And for that… I hope you all enjoy this chapter that is 90% smut 💅🏻

tehehehehehe ✨

The worst thing about healing was the time it took. Things moved so slowly, but progress was progress. Shawn still relied on his medications to get through the day, but he was nowhere near as bad with them as before.

Hunter had lit a fire under his ass. Shawn didn't want to sit around and feel sorry for himself anymore; it was hard to keep a good mindset but not impossible.

He did his physical therapy and checked in with his doctors often, things were looking good, but he still wasn't able to get back in the ring yet. He was, however, able to start working out again, and it was in that that he took his solace.

The first workout back had nearly brought him to tears; Shawn hadn't realized how much muscle he’d lost in the months he’d been gone. He felt tiny and weak, but Hunter only continued to encourage him. Before long, he was able to do his lifts comfortably, but it wasn't with the weight he’d normally used.

“It takes time, Shawn,” Hunter encouraged one day in the middle of a long workout.

It was easy for Hunter to say, he wasn’t on the other end of it. Shawn was struggling with a shoulder press that he’d normally be able to rep at least twelve times.

He frustratedly put the bar back on the hooks of the rack, “I think I want to call it a night.”

“You sure?” Hunter asked as he grabbed a sweat rag.

Shawn thought about it for a moment and then sighed, “I don't want to hurt myself more, I think it’s the right call.”

“It’s always good to listen to your body,” Hunter wiped his face with the rag before continuing, “You know what my body is telling me?”

Shawn huffed a laugh and crossed his arms, “Oh I’m dying to know.”

He already knew.

Tossing the rag aside, Hunter made his way over to Shawn and hovered over him, “It’s telling me to bend you over the bench and have my way with you.”

Shawn rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face said everything Hunter needed to know, “As much as I want to take you up on that offer, I don't need my back broken twice.”

Hunter hummed and placed his hands on Shawn’s hips, “Who said I was gonna break your back? I can be gentle.”

Wrapping his arms around Hunter’s neck, Shawn brushed their noses together, “I know you can. Remember the time in the sauna?”

“Oh, I remember it fondly,” Hunter chuckled and kissed him softly, “But we don’t have to if it’s going to hurt.”

“If it does, we just go back to the bedroom and do boring missionary like old people,” Shawn shrugged and bit his lip, trying to melt Hunter with his eyes.

“Hey,” Hunter scorned playfully, “I like missionary.”

“You just like looking at me,” Shawn winked, “Now hurry up before I change my mind.”

The bigger man considered it a moment before sighing in defeat, “I’ll get the lube.”

Shawn was on Hunter the moment he came back, pulling him in by his sleeveless t-shirt and crushing their lips together.

It had been so long since Shawn felt in control of anything, but sex was the one aspect in which he had someone else relying on him. It was an equal give-and-take between Hunter and himself, no matter who was on top or who was in control at that moment.

In the time that they’d gotten to know each other intimately, they both learned every aspect of each other’s bodies. Shawn had memorized every inch of Hunter’s skin, every spot that was over-sensitive, and what made him tick when it came to the bedroom.

Hunter allowed Shawn to lead the kiss, pliable in his partner’s hands. Shawn nipped at his lower lip and their tongues met, a familiar dance ensued. The haste soon simmered down, and their kisses became more relaxed.

Shawn pulled back momentarily to take Hunter’s shirt off and then his own before leaning back in to kiss and suck on his partner’s neck. He knew the bigger man was done for the moment he nibbled on his earlobe and Hunter shuddered.

“God, Shawn,” Hunter let out as he pulled Shawn’s hips firmly against his own.

Even when he was injured and grumpy, Shawn knew the effect he had on Hunter, and he loved to use it. It was a nice boost to his confidence as well. Even though having sex in their gym in the privacy of their own home wasn’t something that Shawn considered to be very ‘out there,’ if it put a smile on Hunter’s face and gave them both an orgasm, who was he to say no?

Shawn pulled back for a moment, “Lube?”

“Uhh- One sec,” Hunter was out the door as fast as he could.

The sound of Hunter stomping through the house in search of the nearest bottle of lube made Shawn smile to himself. But Hunter was back before Shawn could even take his shorts off.

He smiled at Shawn and held up the little bottle before pocketing it and pulling him back in by the hips.

Hunter took the reigns. He nipped and sucked on Shawn’s collarbone, surely leaving bruises. Normally, Shawn wouldn’t let him leave visible hickeys, but with him staying home so much, it wasn't as big of a deal. He knew just how much Hunter liked to claim what was his and it made Shawn feel wanted and desired, reminding him that Hunter chose him and no one else.

Shawn let out a breath as Hunter bit down on a particularly sensitive area behind his ear, causing him to grind his hips forward. Hunter palmed Shawn’s ass before grabbing and tugging the front of his gym shorts

“Get these off,” Hunter urged in a low voice.

It always drove Shawn crazy when Hunter talked through it; his voice was so deep and rough when they fucked it was gorgeous. Shawn didn’t need to be told twice and he quickly stripped off his shoes and shorts so nothing remained between them once Hunter did the same.

He gave Hunter a gentle nudge on his chest, urging him to sit down on the edge of the nearby bench. Normally, Shawn would protest going to his knees on the hard floor, but the mat underneath the bench was thick enough that he could be there comfortably for a while.

He leaned up and gripped both of Hunter’s thighs, admiring his partner’s rippling muscles and his hard cock in between those legs. Hunter cupped his jaw, guiding him to look up.

“Those eyes,” Hunter hummed, his thumb tracing Shawn’s chin, “So gorgeous.”

Whether he was on his knees, his back, or whatever strange position Hunter could put him in, Shawn always had the bigger man eating out of the palm of his hand. He knew exactly what Hunter wanted and he’d no doubt give it, in that way, Shawn really held most of the power. But between them, it was a give and take.

That’s why it was so easy between them.

Shawn loved the praise from his partner, but he loved the noise that escaped from Hunter's throat when he leaned in and licked Hunter from base to tip even more. Hunter’s hand moved to the back of Shawn’s head, threading into his long hair.

Wrapping his hand around the base, Shawn took the tip of Hunter’s cock into his mouth. He made sure to keep his eyes looking up, locking his with the bigger man’s.

“Fuck,” Hunter exhaled, keeping that hand in Shawn’s hair snug.

He didn’t push or pull, Hunter always let Shawn start the pace when it came to head, it would set the mood for the rest of the act. Shawn took in more of Hunter’s cock into his mouth before pulling back and slowly beginning to bob his head.

Shawn took in every little breath and groan that Hunter uttered, every reaction from his partner just turned him on more and encouraged him to keep going. With his tongue sliding underneath and stopping every so often to work around the tip, it wouldn't be long before it was over if Shawn kept on like that.

The grip in Shawn’s hair tightened and Hunter gave a light tug to pull him off. He kept his eyes on Hunter’s as he sucked in the excess saliva back into his mouth, some dribbling onto his chin.

Hunter let out a low noise of satisfaction at the sight, “Pretty boy.”

Shawn’s gut flipped at the compliment, but he was ever eager to get to the next part as Hunter wiped his chin with a thumb and leaned down to kiss him. He squeezed Hunter’s thighs and stood slowly.

“Where’s the lube?” Shawn asked.

“It’s in my shorts, hold on-” Hunter stood briefly and quickly rummaged through their pile of clothes before returning.

“You want me bent over this thing?” Shawn raised a brow and nodded toward the bench.

Hunter slid his arms around Shawn’s waist from behind, one hand heading torturously low as he pressed slow kisses to Shawn’s shoulder, “Only if that’s what you want.”

The feeling of Hunter’s ready cock pressed against his ass was a good enough reason for Shawn to say yes. He leaned his weight back against his partner and exhaled, milking the attention from Hunter for just a little longer; Shawn hoped for his hand to snake just a little lower.

“Hmm, eager?“ Hunter nipped at Shawn’s earlobe.

He reached for Hunter’s hand and grabbed at his wrist that was oh so close to where he wanted it, “Stop teasing and fuck me.”

Hunter chuckled at that and placed one more kiss behind Shawn’s ear, “Both hands on the bench, one leg on the ground for support.”

It wasn't the most comfortable doggy style Shawn had ever been in, but he’d be the last to complain about that. With a knee on the bench and his other leg on the ground, his back shouldn’t cause him any issues.

“Never thought I’d be worried about my back during sex,” Shawn let out a small laugh at how ironic it truly felt.

Hunter leaned over and kissed from Shawn’s shoulders down his back, taking time to show extra love to the surgical scar that was ever the burden of Shawn’s existence. That itself was response enough to Shawn’s rib at himself; Hunter didn’t care. Despite all of it, Hunter wouldn’t let him feel bad about himself, he’d show Shawn that every inch of him was worthy of the love he needed.

In the time he’d taken to worship Shawn’s back, Hunter had also taken the tube of lube and slicked his fingers. Shawn inhaled sharply at the cold touch at his entrance, but Hunter only hovered.

“This okay?” He asked.

Shawn only ever got check-ins with Hunter. At first, he thought it wasn’t needed, if he didn’t like it he'd just tell him to stop. But as their relationship grew, Shawn started to appreciate them; it was a brief moment to bring him back down to earth, and it made it easier to give himself over to his partner.

“Yes,” Shawn dug his nails into the leather of the bench, anticipating.

“Relax baby,” Hunter soothed, his free hand rubbing comforting circles into Shawn’s hip.

Hunter pushed a finger in, agonizingly slow. Shawn tried to relax and let out a small gasp at the feeling. This part of sex could be his favorite or least favorite depending on his mood, today he was leaning towards least favorite. He’d been doing it long enough that he was able to adjust to the feeling quickly, but he wanted to skip ahead to the best part.

“Hunt-” Shawn whined.

Listening to his plea, Hunter added a second finger, making sure to open Shawn up as best he could. He was slow and meticulous with it, which drove Shawn insane, but if it made sure neither party was in pain, it was worth it.

Two became three, and before long, Shawn was a writhing mess on the bench. His face and chest were flushed red and sweat was starting to build on his brow.

“Hunter, please-”

“I know, baby, I know,” Hunter’s deep voice was comforting and unfair at the same time.

Hunter loved to watch Shawn squirm and beg, it made the reward that much more sweet, but Shawn was close to pleading. He cried out as Hunter hooked his fingers in just the right place. But as soon as the feeling was there, it was gone, Hunter having removed his fingers at the worst possible moment.

“You do that every time,” Shawn panted frustratedly and looked over his shoulder.

“Because it makes you react,” Hunter winked as he slicked up his cock with more lube. He leaned down, offering Shawn a kiss, “Ready?”

“God, yes. Hurry up,” Shawn scoffed but took the kiss affectionately.

Lining himself up, Hunter pushed in; he held one of Shawn’s hips with one hand, and the other on a shoulder to keep them both steady. He moaned at the feeling of Hunter’s cock filling him up, he loved that he was the only one who could make such a big guy react a certain way.

When Hunter bottomed out, he waited for Shawn to feel adjusted before adding one last check-in.

“Still okay?”

Shawn nodded frantically, “Yeah-” His voice was strained.

Hunter moved his other hand from Shawn’s shoulder back to his hip and slowly pulled back before thrusting forward again.

They both groaned, taking in the feeling of each other's bodies. Hunter began long slow strokes, making sure Shawn reacted to every one of them; he was not disappointed.

Part of Shawn wished he were back in their bed so he could scream into a pillow, but the sweet slow build-up had Shawn on cloud nine. He didn't have to think about anything other than how good it felt to take Hunter’s cock.

“That feel good, baby?” Hunter continued his thrusts, a little more power behind each one.

A hand smacked at Shawn’s ass cheek, making him yelp. It was surely going to leave a mark, but he didn't care.

“Fuck- Hunt-” Shawn could hardly get his words out as Hunter’s thrusts grew harder and faster.

“So perfect for me,” Hunter growled, a hand wrapping into the length of Shawn’s hair, “You take it so well.”

He didn't pull hard, but it was enough for Shawn to react with a whine. Shawn wanted more and craved more, but he knew he was limited in what he could handle at the moment.

Throughout the entire process, the pair still managed to keep sex a priority, even though Hunter refused to lay a hand on Shawn the first few weeks after his surgery because he didn’t want to hurt him. As Shawn continued to heal and get stronger, they made certain things, and positions, work. While Shawn couldn’t bend all the ways he used to be able to, they still enjoyed themselves.

It was becoming too much. Hunter’s thrusts were so precise it was like he knew exactly what would drive Shawn to the brink. His cock was aching between his legs, begging for attention, but Hunter kept the pace somewhere between too slow and so brutally fast that Shawn couldn’t even form words.

Shawn tried to bury his face into his arms to muffle his cries but Hunter wasn’t allowing that.

“Use your words, baby,” Hunter breathed as he leaned over Shawn’s back, one hand moving from his hair to his throat, “Tell me what you want…”

Hunter pulled Shawn’s back into his chest and slowed the pace, his thrusts still hitting the spot that made Shawn see stars. He wanted to lean back against Hunter and have his body show the bigger man how much he wanted more, but he couldn’t.

The feeling of Hunter breathing down his neck as he continued his onslaught almost drove Shawn insane.

Each thrust hit home, causing Shawn to cry out with each one, “Ah- Fuck! Hunt-”

“If you don’t tell me,” Hunter gave Shawn’s throat a slight squeeze as he kissed and nipped his ear, “I can’t give it to you.”

Shawn caved, he was done for, he would do it himself if he didn’t need his arms for stability. His voice didn’t sound like his own, but he was too far gone to care.

“Touch me,” Shawn begged.

“Good boy,” Hunter removed his hand from around Shawn’s throat and wrapped it around his leaking cock.

Hunter picked up his thrusts again, his free arm holding Shawn in place as he fucked into him and pumped his cock.

Shawn was a mess, there was no other way to describe it. Hunter was in complete control, Shawn wouldn’t last long, he’d given himself over, he always did when it came to Hunter.

“Cum for me baby,” Hunter purred, coaxing Shawn on, “You’re so beautiful like this.”

Shawn whimpered as he felt the heat build-up in his gut. The sound of skin against skin and Hunter’s encouraging words had him over the edge and he cried out as he came.

Hunter talked Shawn through his orgasm, still pumping his cock to the point of overstimulation. Shawn wanted to collapse, he was exhausted, but Hunter wasn’t done.

Leaving gentle kisses across Shawn’s shoulders, Hunter waited for him to come down a bit.

“Alright?” Hunter asked, his tone entirely different than seconds before.

Shawn knew what Hunter was asking. Was it okay for him to continue, or would it be too much? There was no pressure, but of course, Shawn wanted his partner to finish.

“I’m okay,” Shawn breathed, leaning back a little to touch as much of Hunter as he could.

That was all Hunter needed to stand back up, grab Shawn by the hips, and rail into him till he saw stars. Shawn was so gone by that point, but he urged his partner on, saying all the things he knew Hunter loved to hear.

He was whining, begging, and pleading, as Hunter fucked him. Shawn was hardly coherent as it happened, but it was his favorite headspace to be in.

“Oh- fuck- Shawn-” Hunter’s thrusts became frantic before he stilled, spilling into Shawn.

They both paused for a moment, catching their breath. Shawn was ready to collapse as Hunter practically gasped for air. He leaned down one more time to press an apologetic kiss to Shawn’s shoulder as he pulled out.

Hunter grabbed a nearby gym rag and began to clean them both up.

“You got cum on my hip,” Shawn complained afterward. He stood slowly and touched his side where the sticky substance was.

Hunter did his best to stifle his laugh, “I know, I’m sorry,” he quickly wiped it off and lifted Shawn’s chin with his clean hand to kiss him softly.

Shawn already felt so melted as it was, all he wanted was to be carried to bed. He wrapped his arms around Hunter’s neck and nestled up to his chest.

“‘Mm tired,” He mumbled into the bigger man’s skin.

Hunter nuzzled into the side of Shawn’s face, leaving comforting kisses across his cheek and jawline, “Shower, then bed.”

Groaning at all the extra work that had to be done, Shawn made one last ditch effort, “Carry me?”

***

Connecticut in the fall was beautiful. The leaves turned various shades of orange and yellow and the air was crisp and cool.

Shawn hated it.

Being cold was on his top five list of least favorite things, with winter being at the top. He was a Southern boy, that’s where he thrived. There were plenty of falls and winters that he spent on the road but being able to go to come to Texas, for even a short amount of time, made up for it.

He was a grown man, but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss his parents and family. There was no denying that he was a little homesick.

The doctor still hadn’t cleared him to travel, and it was really starting to get to him. Just a week back in Texas would probably do Shawn wonders.

The boredom of healing still hadn’t gone away either, but whenever he wasn’t doing physical therapy, working out to build up muscle again, or snooping into Raw on Mondays, he was dead bored.

Shawn was outside wrapped in a sweatshirt and two big overcoats as he raked the leaves in front of the house. It wasn’t much, but it kept him moving and he had the radio set up on the porch playing his favorite country station. Even though he felt like he was going to freeze to death, it could’ve been worse.

The cold reminded him of Bret and the walks they used to take up in Calgary when it snowed. Shawn was always shivering like a frost-bitten chihuahua while Bret would drag him along to show him the frozen pond by his childhood home.

It was Canada, so the ice was thick enough to stand on, and Shawn remembered slipping so many times that he’d yank Bret down with him. Eventually, he’d gotten the hang of it and Bret was able to catch him when he stumbled.

Shawn paused and shook his head, almost trying to shake away the memory from his brain. It was a fond but very distant memory; that was near the beginning of his relationship with Bret, before things turned sour.

They were sweet to each other for a while, till ego and substances got in the way. But the sweet memories didn’t matter anymore, just the fact that Shawn still had it set in his mind that he needed to make things right.

Was it wrong to look back on certain aspects of their relationship fondly? Was that dishonest with Hunter?

The only thing left unsaid between Bret and Shawn was an apology from Shawn’s end, that was it. He just wanted it all to be over and done with, it was so frustrating.

Shawn once again grew bored and decided to head back inside before he froze to death. He took off all the extra layers, leaving just his sweatpants and sweatshirt, because even inside he was still cold.

Tea was something that Hunter introduced him to. Shawn had only ever considered sweet tea to be good in his life so the fact that he was standing there warming a kettle on the stove spoke volumes.

As the water heated, Shawn plopped himself on the counter, grabbed the nearby phone off the wall, and dialed the number for the hotel Hunter was staying at in Colorado.

He gave the hotel receptionist his information and waited to be transferred. It rang for a while, but eventually, there was no answer. Which wasn’t entirely weird, it wasn’t very late over there so maybe Hunter just hadn’t gotten back from the house show yet.

Shawn left a message telling Hunter to call him back whenever he had time and that he missed him.

He would be home tomorrow, so there was really no reason to worry, but there was always that paranoia in the back of Shawn's brain trying to get at him.

Once the water had boiled and the tea was steeped, Shawn settled on the couch to watch TV. It wasn’t Monday so there was no wrestling on, but sometimes he enjoyed watching reruns of M*A*S*H or Cheers. The stuff he watched as a kid that brought him comfort.

He felt comfortable and relaxed, which was new. Shawn still struggled with being alone a lot of the time, but there were times when he started to enjoy the peace. It would just be more tolerable if he was curled up with Hunter.

At some point, he must have started dozing because the phone ringing startled him awake. He rubbed his eyes and got up as fast as his back would let him to run to the kitchen. There was a ninety percent chance that it was Hunter so he answered like he normally would.

“Hey babe,” Shawn said with a yawn.

A voice he hadn't heard in a long time responded, “Been a long time since you called me that.”

Shawn’s chest tightened, why in the hell was Bret on the phone? How did he even have the phone number to Hunter’s house? Something wasn't right.

“Why are you calling me?” Shawn questioned with a bite.

“Take it easy,” Bret scoffed on the other line, “Listen, everything’s fine, but Hunter’s a little banged up.”

Shawn felt the blood leave his face, his heartbeat quickened as a million possibilities ran through his mind. Hunter was hurt and he was stuck here. There was nothing he could do.

“What happened? Where's Hunter?” His voice sounded panicked.

“It’s alright, calm down-”

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down! Tell me what happened,” Shawn snapped.

He wasn't handling this well, but how could he? He didn't know where Hunter was or what was wrong, and Bret still knew exactly how to push his buttons.

Bret sighed at Shawn’s attitude, “Listen, he took a bump wrong and got concussed, but he's fine.”

“Then why are you calling me? He could tell me that himself,” Shawn felt a small amount of relief that Hunter wasn't too hurt, but the concern went nowhere.

“He’s still in with the medic,” Bret added, “He told me to call you.”

So many other names ran through Shawn’s mind, why the hell did it have to be Bret of all people? Maybe Hunter had more brain damage than he thought, because never in a million years did Shawn think Hunter would encourage his ex to call him.

“I need to talk to him,” Shawn didn’t want to hear Bret’s voice anymore.

“I’ll go in once the doctor leaves… Jeez, were you always this impatient?” Bret jabbed.

That irritated Shawn more than it should have. He shouldn't let Bret’s words get to him, his only concern should be Hunter and his well-being.

“Was no one else around? Why are you with Hunter?” Shawn ignored Bret’s words and kept prying.

He wanted answers.

Bret hesitated, “I don't know if that's for me to say.”

That could mean a million different things and Shawn's mind immediately went to the worst of them. Before he could respond, he heard some background noise on the other line and soon Hunter’s voice came through.

“Hey baby,” Hunter sounded exhausted.

“What happened? Why is Bret with you? Are you coming home?” Shawn fired off questions.

“Easy babe, my head is killing me,” Hunter grumbled.

Shawn stayed quiet.

“Kane got me with a tombstone, I was too low and didn't tuck the right way. Yes, I'm coming home, and Bret’s here because he's helping.” Hunter explained.

“How is he helping? You could've picked anyone else but you landed on Bret?” Shawn knew his tone sounded accusatory but he was really frustrated.

“Bret and I…” Hunter paused.

Shawn prepared for the ultimate blow. He felt his lungs shrivel and the worst-case scenario ran through his mind. Everything he built with Hunter was about to be destroyed. Hunter was cheating with his ex. Did Shawn deserve such a horrendous fate? Probably. Things couldn't get worse.

“We’re working on his comeback,” Hunter explained, “I've been helping him out and he’s been helping me out.”

Shawn swallowed, he wasn't sure how to process anything he just heard, “I’d rather you be cheating on me.”

Hunter made a surprised noise at that, “What?”

Shawn was angry and hurt, but his concern for Hunter and the relief of not being cheated on topped that at the moment, “Just- fuck. I’ll yell at you when you get home. I just need you to be okay.”

“I’m okay babe, I promise. I'll probably just be out for a few weeks,” Hunter reassured.

“How are you getting home?” Shawn asked.

Hunter wouldn't be able to drive with a concussion, and Shawn wasn’t cleared to travel yet to come get him. He had a feeling he already knew the answer to that.

“I know you don't want to hear this, but Bret’s the only one that can do it.”

Of course. Shawn shouldn't have expected anything else. What he wasn't ready for, was what Hunter said next.

“He’s gonna stay with us till I'm healed up,” Hunter said like it was the most casual thing in the world.

“What are you talking about? I'll take care of you,” Shawn was exasperated.

Hunter really had hit his head too hard.

“You have to focus on your own healing, Shawn. Bret’s just going to help out a bit, it won't be forever,” Hunter reasoned.

“The answer is no,” Shawn figured now was a good time to put his foot down.

He could hear Hunter sigh on the other line, “Shawn, he's the only one that can do it. He's not on the show at the moment, he’s done with WCW. Everyone else is on the road.”

Hunter and his dumb logic. Shawn hated that it made sense. It was a losing argument, he had the urge to kick and scream like a child, but there was no getting what he wanted.

Shawn sighed in defeat and asked, “When will you be home?”

“In the morning babe, don't you worry,” Hunter tried to sound reassuring, “The doc is coming back in, I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay…”

The line clicked and Shawn was alone all over again. It was too much for him to handle. Hunter being hurt, Hunter working with Bret, Bret staying in his home, and his own injury and self-righteous bullshit, he had so many conflicting feelings. It was all so overwhelming, all he wanted was to be with Hunter and to get back in the ring. He wasn't ready to face everything all at once.

Shawn felt the tears build up in his eyes as he put the phone back on the receiver. It was like the universe saw him as a chew toy. He took a deep breath and clenched his eyes so the tears wouldn't fall.

He went to bed early that night.

[invisible-key]

Work Meeting

Kink: emetophilia

OC: Shawn

Summary: Shawn starts to feel sick during a meeting at work and ends up vomiting in front of all his coworkers.

Word count: ~800

Warning: very detailed description of vomit

===============

Shawn was silently sitting at a conference table, sweat coating his back. While his coworkers were occupied with an academic debate, all that he could think of was the dull ache in his stomach. He kept wondering what he had eaten to make his stomach hurt, and how serious it could possibly be. He's been feeling a little off since this morning so it wasn’t the lunch he’s had right before this meeting (that he so regretted eating right now). He tried to breathe deeply to keep the nausea at bay, but it wasn’t helping. He was starting to realize that the nausea was only getting worse and it might end badly if he doesn’t start looking for a bathroom. His boss was having a presentation at the moment, and he didn’t want to disturb, so he was anxiously waiting for a more appropriate moment, while preparing what to say. He was taken out of his thoughts when he heard his name. “What do you suggest, Shawn?” 

He jerked and looked up. Everyone was watching him expectantly. The boss was piercing him with her eyes, but he had no idea what the topic even was.

“I… Sorry, I… Could you repeat the question?” he said weakly.

The boss frowned. “Were you not paying attention during my presentation?”

He swallowed. “I… I don't feel very good…” he said in a trembling voice. 

Sweat formed on his forehead, but not just because of the boss’s scrutiny. His mouth filled with foul-tasting saliva and he could feel his stomach rising. He stood up in haste; the sound of a chair scraping the floor resonated through the silent hall. Everyone looked at him. He didn't even open his mouth to excuse himself, fearing that something other than words might come out. He was shaking, trying to keep his lunch down, but when he started moving away from the table, his queasiness doubled. 

He was able to take only a few steps before his stomach revolted, contracting so strongly it forced him to bend over. A thick brown substance forced its way through his mouth and splashed on the tile floor. It was the lentil he had eaten for lunch just an hour ago; it was barely digested and he could feel its texture on his tongue. It tasted even more sour than when he ate it. Soon after, sickness overcame him for a second time and he heaved again, feeling the lentil rise up his esophagus, before it added to the pile on the floor. He barely had time to breathe in before his stomach spasmed again and made him release more undigested food out of his mouth. The brown wave had a white tail - remains of the eggs he had eaten for breakfast. He was sweating and his hands were shaking, but he felt a little relieved. For a second he thought he was done, but then his mouth started filling with sickly saliva once more. He doubled over and gagged. A small amount of a white substance diluted in stomach acid splashed onto the existing pile. The next wave was black tea with a few white pieces. After this, his stomach calmed down and Shawn was finally able to relax. 

He let out a shaky sigh of relief. It seemed that his stomach had finally purged itself off all the food that was making him sick. He was feeling much better now.

But the relief was gone as soon as he remembered that he had just embarrassed himself in front of all his coworkers. He will always be “that one guy who said ‘I don't feel very good’ and proceeded to puke his guts out during a meeting”. 

He felt a gentle touch on his arm. He looked up to meet his coworker’s sympathetic eyes. 

“Are you alright?” she asked.

He tried to speak but it just made him start coughing. The cough made him gag again but he swallowed the acid back down. He resolved to just nodding. 

“Do you feel like you're gonna faint?” 

He shook his head.

She went to the table to bring him a glass of water. He risked a short glance towards the table and quickly hung his head in shame.

She handed him a glass and asked, “Are you having a migraine again?”

Drinking washed away the gross taste and made him able to speak again.

“No... I... probably just ate something bad...”

“Well, you should still go home and rest...”

He didn’t feel sick anymore but he wished to get away from this embarrassment so he nodded gratefully. He gathered his possessions and left the conference room, head hung in shame.

[sadisticpussies]

He’s in Las Vegas, exasperatedly laboring through hour three of his eight hour shift as a bartender at the Herbs & Rye restaurant — his tolerance for the day had already exceeded its limit after an unfortunate encounter with a group of white collar men who’d made a complaint to his manager about his poor work ethic and his uncanny sarcasm.

His boss, Thomas, had pulled him to the side to quietly reprimand him, sternly reminding Shawn that he was on strike two and if he were to get another complaint from one more customer that his employment would be terminated. It’s not like he necessarily needed this job because just like the others, they’d been temporary; sufficing him just enough for food and for him to save enough so he can move onto the next town.

But he’s only been here for a week; barely managing to save enough to survive off of anything except for microwaveable tv dinners and canned ravioli due to the lackluster minimum wage. He couldn’t afford to lose this job so quickly, especially considering that he was planning on going to Tijuana and already had an itinerary full of mischief that required at least $1,000 to indulge in.

He’s fixing a customer another drink; Stacy, who’d stumbled in an hour earlier solemnly confessing to him about her recent discovery of her husband’s infidelity, she’d chugged down to full glasses Smirnoff gulping them down without a burning wince as she continuously divulged about her marital problems when he heard Thomas beckoning his name in attention.

“Spencer, how many times have I told you about the rules against personal calls while on the clock?” He was sauntering up to Shawn, irritation’s evident across his face as he points a finger at him. “You’re treading on a very thin line here,” He forewarns, much to Shawn’s confusion.

“Personal call?” He wasn’t expecting anyone to call; the only person who knows where he currently is is his mother and he knows that the retreat she had gone to didn’t allow cellphones of any kind for her to make a phone call to him.

Thomas wasn’t amused by Shawn’s confusion, his irritation only accrued as he rolled his eyes and pointed his thumb over his shoulder where the kitchen was. “It’s some guy saying he’s your father. Said he needed to talk to you. Make it quick.” He avers, narrowing his eyes at Shawn before turning away to attend to a customer who has his glass raised midair and calls out for a refill.

Shawn’s confusion heightens as he ponders on why his father was suddenly seeking contact with him. It’s been four years since he’s last seen him; the communication between then was minimal with it being mostly brief exchanges of Shawn assuring his father that yes he is alive and no he hadn’t done something outlandish like join a cult as his father often presumed.

It was never long before their conversations transitioned into arguments — his father’s disdain about Shawn’s abrupt decision to leave after high school instead of attending college or enrolling in the police academy and Shawn’s disdain about his father ruining their family by divorcing his mother was always the reason. They’d bicker; spewing accusations and hurtful insults at each other until one of them got too tired of arguing and would hang up.

His mother would often call to check in, inquiring about his health and safety, avid to hear about what new sites he’s seen in his travels. And like always she’d try to absolve the tension between him and his father, attempting to convince Shawn to seek out contact with him first and have an actual conversation (that didn’t include arguing) but her efforts were futile because Shawn was always haste to refuse, still too upset with his father to even think about reconciliation.

He already felt drained from today, dealing with Thomas and the restaurant full of rude and entitled customers he doesn’t think he has the energy to argue with his father. He assures Thomas of a quick return before sauntering off to the back to retrieve the phone. He picks it up, pressing one hand against his ear to shield the noisiness ricocheting from the front.

“Dad, whatever this is about I can’t deal with it right now. I’m at work—” He peers up, seeing Thomas impatiently tapping his finger against his watch as he mouthed hurry up. Shawn nods, turning away as he rolls his eyes in frustration. “I’ve gotta get back,”

“Shawn,”

“Dad—I have to go,” He avers, removing the phone from his ear and preparing to hang it back on its hook until he hears something that makes him halt. He brings the phone back up to his ear, exhaling a trembling breath. “W-What did you just say?”

He’d heard him faintly, only hearing the end of his father’s sentence but that’s all he needed to be immediately drawn back into the conversation. Gus had emanated from his father’s mouth, it was a name that had solemnly become unrecognizable to him over the span of these few years. Just like his father, Shawn had ceased much of the communication with Gus as well; only sending emails, postcards and letters to him twice every month to fill him in on the current adventures in his life.

The strain in their friendship wasn’t intentional. Shawn escaped from Santa Barbara the day after graduating hoping to find some semblance of meaning in his life. His mother had just left and Gus was scheduled to leave for college afterwards, Shawn felt like he didn’t have a reason to stay in the place that took everyone he loved away from him. He’s thought about returning back, but he relented and succumbed to his fears of facing Gus again; knowing that it wouldn’t be easy to reconcile after leaving him for so long.

He hates himself for leaving like that; abrupt and impulsively, without even saying goodbye to Gus. He shudders at to think about what Gus thinks of him — how angry and upset and hurt he probably was to wake up the next morning and hear from his father that Shawn had left.

He’s never been good at goodbyes, he hates them. But he knows Gus at least deserved that.

There’s a lump that thickens and expands in his throat, his hands shake as he clutches the phone. He’s trying to settle his nerves but the pounding in his ears is so loud that it’s hard to hear what his fathers saying. He didn’t need to hear much because after the words “Gus” and “accident” were mentioned, Shawn was already hanging up the phone and untangling the knot from the apron that was tied around his waist. His hands were shaking so much that he fumbled with the knot, cursing loudly in frustration as he pulled and tugged at it.

He hears the heavy gait of footsteps approaching behind him that’s accompanied by the shrilly timbre of Thomas’ voice, “It’s been five minutes now, you need to get out there and…where do you think you’re going?” He questions, perching his hands akimbo as he watched Shawn toss the apron aside then hurriedly retreat to the break room.

He returns seconds later, his helmet and jacket in hand.

Shawn’s mind feels skewed; he’s panicking, can barely focus on anything at the moment and there are tears gathering in the back of his pupils blurring his vision. “I uh, I have to go. My best friend, he’s been in an accident and I have to go see him.” He shrugs his arms through the jacket, patting the right pocket and digging inside to retrieve his keys.

“Go?” Thomas inquired in bewilderment; completely apathetic at Shawn’s earlier sentiments. “We’re short staffed tonight and we don’t have anyone to cover your shift. You can’t go!”

And if Shawn wasn’t stretched on time and wasn’t desperately trying to hurry up to Gus he would’ve vehemently spewed a few derogatory remarks at Thomas for his lack of consideration and human decency. But instead, he only brushes past Thomas as he makes his abrupt departure out of the back door.

…

He’s certain that he’s broken every road law known to man; making illegal passings through lanes, squeezing past rows of cars stuck in traffic and accelerating the motorcycle to a speed he didn’t even know it could reach as he reeved up the gas and sped down the highway. He arrives outside of the hospital a few hours later, hurriedly turning off the ignition and climbing off of the bike after finding an empty parking space.

He takes off in a sprint towards the front entrance inadvertently pushing past a man that’s hobbling on a pair of crutches — who curses loudly at Shawn when he nearly loses his balance and stumbles clumsily.

“Jackass!” The man scolded; the screeching of his crutches dragging across the tiled floors ricochets throughout the room.

He absentmindedly disregards the man’s reprimand as he ran towards the nurse’s station. The woman behind the desk is occupied on the phone, alternating between typing on the keyboard of her computer and filing patient reports. When she looks up at notices Shawn, she holds her finger up in the air and murmurs “one moment,” before continuing her conversation.

Shawn’s impatience immediately wears thin, her conversation has been going on too long and she’s yet to bother acknowledging him again. He’s tempted to interrupt her conversation and demand that she attend to his needs, but he purses his lips in a thinned frown to prevent himself from projecting his anger onto her and continued to (im)patiently wait. After what felt like an eternity, the nurse’s conversation ends and she’s putting the phone back on its hook and greeting him in welcome.

“Hello, sir. How may I help you?”

“I need to see someone who was admitted a few hours ago; his name is Burton Guster. He was in an accident and I have to see him.”

The nurse nods as her fingers type deftly onto the keyboard again. “He’s still getting looked over so you’ll have to wait,” She informs him before directing him towards the waiting area.

Shawn slumps into one of the rigid-cushioned chairs, with his leg bouncing and his teeth nervously biting at his nails, he stares at the round clock that’s hung decoratively on the alabaster colored walls, heeding at the hands as they ticked with each passing minute.

He’s trying to focus: his mind repeats a litany of he’s okay, to distract himself from the possibilities that awaited. Gus is okay because he had to be — because Shawn knows that the universe wouldn’t punish him so cruelly like this, it wouldn’t take his best friend from him in such a macabre way. It wouldn’t do this knowing that Shawn hasn’t had a chance to apologize yet.

No.

Gus is okay.

He wouldn’t accept any other fate.

…

His ass has started to get numb from sitting in the chair for so long and his impatience starts withering again. It’s been nearly two hours already and there has yet to be any developments regarding Gus status. Shawn’s been getting up and walking to the nurses station every fifteen minutes asking if Gus had been moved out of surgery and into a room yet but every time she only tells him that she’s only allowed to disclose that information to immediate family. He understands that it’s hospital protocol and whatnot but he’s becoming more and more peeved.

He’s offered some sense of relief when he looks towards the front entrance and sees Mr. and Mrs. Guster trekking through the doors. The same worry and panic that paralyzed him was written all over their countenances as well, Mrs. Guster was sobbing as she held tightly onto her husband’s arm.

They exchange a few words with the nurse and before he knows it, he’s seeing the door towards the back being buzzed open.

Shawn hurriedly clambers to his feet and approaches the Gusters.

“Mr. and Mrs. G!” They both halt at the exclamation of their names, turning around to see who was seeking their attention. There’s a look of aghast when they see Shawn standing athwart from them.

“Shawn?” Mrs. Guster asks, voice gruff and scratchy from all of the crying she’d done. She brings the wad of tissue that was in her other hand, up to her red nose and dabs away the snot that spilled. “What are you doing here?”

He winces at the incredulity behind her words. It saddens him knowing that his parents are this surprised that he showed up. He knows he hasn’t been around much these past few years but surely they had to know that something as vital as this was going to incite haste Shawn’s return. But with the way they’re looking so perplexed at him, like he’s a stranger, instead of their son’s childhood best friend that they’ve known for years says otherwise.

(He’d dwell on this heartbreaking realization later. He had to make sure Gus was okay first.)

“My dad called and told me what happened. I came to see him. Did anyone tell you anything? Is-Is he okay?”

They share a brief look like they’re wary of disclosing the information to him. It fucking hurts that he’s suddenly become this outsider to them as if he wasn’t an intricate part of Gus’ life. He did leave but why did they act as if his existence hadn’t meant anything to them or Gus?

“He’s stable and awake,” Mr. Guster finally admits, thankfully easing Shawn’s concerns. “They said that it was okay to go see him,”

He nods, giving them a pleading look that begged them to allow him to accompany them to the back. Because he doesn’t know how much longer he can sit here waiting, and although he knows that they’ve assured him that Gus was safe, Shawn wouldn’t be fully content until he actually saw Gus and could confirm it himself.

Mr. Guster sighs, looking down at his wife before averting his eyes back onto Shawn. “You’re welcome to come back if you’d like.”

And that’s all he needed to hear before he’s following behind them as they lead the way down the corridor to Gus’ room.

Mrs. Guster approaches first, bringing her hand up midair and rapting a gentle knock against the door. A few seconds pass by before they hear a rasped, “Come in,” that she her pulling at the handle and swinging the door open.

Albeit relief calms him when he actually sees Gus, Shawn could also feel his throat baring and his eyes watering at the sight of Gus. It’s been four years and six months since he’s seen him; he still looked the same but his face has chiseled and he’s grown into his features. He’s got more hair since the last time Shawn’s seen him; hair that’s styled in a hightop boxed coif. Shawn sidestepped around Mrs. Guster and gauges a fuller view at Gus — he’s sprawled out on the small hospital bed, his legs are dangling off of the edge swallowing up the last inch of space that’s available. He’s got a thin wool blanket swathed across his lap, his arms wrapped in a cast that’s balanced on a small pillow that’s tucked underneath for leverage.

Gus is laid with his eyes fluttered close, nearly half dazed from the medication they fed him. Upon hearing the knocking and his mother’s loud sob of relief, he opens them, blinking rapidly trying to clear his fogged vision. He smiles sheepishly at his parents, but then his eyes wander behind them at Shawn and his smile is substituted for a moue, causing Shawn to recoil away slightly.

He lowers his eyes, abashed and chagrined, condemning himself for foolishly thinking Gus would be elated at his return.

“Shawn?” And it’s so pathetic but his breath hitches when he hears his name fall off of Gus’ lips, at the way he could practically hear the emotion through his tenor as he called out to him. It’s surprisingly tender and soft and Shawn can’t remember the last time he’s ever heard such affection in someone’s voice.

Maybe he hadn’t completely ruined things between them like he assumed.

He remains stood off to the side as the Guster’s bombarded their son with questions, inquiring about the accident and assessing his wounds. Gus repeatedly assured them that he was fine, stating that it was an accident that occurred after another car abruptly drove out into traffic. Shawn smiled adoringly as he watched as Gus’ mother attentively adjusted Gus’ pillows and maneuvered around the small room fixing things.

“Mom, I’m okay,” Gus reiterated for the fifth time that day after his mother tried to buzz a nurse in when Gus placed too much weight on his arm and yelped out in pain when he felt the throbbing pain shooting up his arm.

“It certainly didn’t sound like you’re okay!” She laments, frowning as her finger hovered over the big, red button, contemplating if she should defy against her son’s wishes and call for the nurse to look over him regardless of his asks.

“I just moved too quick that’s all. I promise.” She looked at him disbelieving, knowing that he was probably only saying that to alleviate her worries. Nonetheless, she conceded and had followed behind her husband when he led them out of the room to grab some coffee from the cafeteria.

When the Guster’s leave, it’s just him and Gus alone. Shawn’s still standing hovered by the doorway with his hands shoved inside the front pockets of his jeans and his eyes shyly meets Gus’. He wants to speak, to go over and throw his arms around Gus and tell him that he’s glad he’s okay, but he feels like his feet are cemented to the ground and his tongue feels so thick in his mouth that it causes his throat to dry and he’s suddenly struggling to form a coherent sentence.

It’s Gus that finally breaks the silence between them. He’s shifting on the bed again, trying to maneuver around to a more comfortable laying position and ends up inadvertently hitting his arm against the bed’s railing that has him wincing in pain again.

“I’m good,” He’s haste to assure Shawn whose eyes widened in worry and feet managed to miraculously find their strength to move as he was already at Gus’ bedside, reaching for his arm to help him. His hands quickly retract at Gus’ words and are being shoved back into his pockets again. Silence lingers between them again only briefly before Gus begins speaking again. “How’d you find out?” He murmurs softly in curiosity.

“My dad,”

Gus eyebrows furrow in an indiscernible gesture. He reaches forward, grabbing at the small cup full of ice water. “Right. Well, you didn’t have to come all the way back here. I’m sure you’re eager to go back to Washington or wherever you’re at now.” There’s no hostility or malice embedded in Gus’ words. It’s just a melancholic lilt that Shawn recognizes that has him guilt ridden and apologetic. His absence has made Gus think that he’s stopped caring for/about him when that was furthest from the truth.

“Gus—” He begins, but Gus is already interrupting him rebutting otherwise.

“It’s fine, Shawn. I’m okay. It’s just a broken arm, nothing serious.”

At this, Shawn guffaws in frustration because how could Gus trivialize this? He doesn’t know the sheer terror Shawn felt when he heard about the accident, how he was afraid that he would lose him and now here Gus was just brushing everything off in nonchalance and trying to push him away. And he tries not to but he does get angry with Gus, because how could he truly think that Shawn didn’t care about him?

“No, it’s not okay. I came here because I was worried about you, Gus. I was scared that you’d—” He shakes his head, swallowing down the remainder of that sentence. It was too painful to think let alone vocalize aloud. “I know that I haven’t been here but that doesn’t mean I stopped caring about you,”

He sees Gus’ mouth purse and his eyebrows furrow, like he’s contemplating on whether he actually believes Shawn’s words. He’s feeling defeated, already self deprecating at how he’d managed to single-handedly ruined the only stable relationship in his life.

He wouldn’t be Shawn if he didn’t fuck up good things.

But then, Gus is looking at him and his eyes soften as he murmurs, “Thanks for coming,”

…

Shawn stays in Santa Barbara for the rest of the week. He stays in a motel downtown, refusing his father’s offer to stay at home instead. That was one relationship he wasn’t as avid to reconcile with just yet, there was still unresolved issues that resided between them, issues that he held his father solely responsible for that he wasn’t ready to address.

He was here for Gus and wanted to focus on that not any other issues.

The first day, they’d caught up more with each other, telling the other everything that wasn’t mentioned in their emails or letters. It was bittersweet listening to Gus rave about his college experience, hearing about all the friends he’s made, all the things he’s done.

Shawn felt sad that he hadn’t been there with Gus to experience those things with. He remembers in middle school, they’d talk about all the parties they would go to whenever they got to college, how they’d be roommates (because they knew no one else could handle living either of them; Gus was too OCD and Shawn was messy and snored loudly, or at least that’s what he’s heard from Gus.) then graduate and get married and live next door to each other.

At the time of his departure, he didn’t consider his leaving as a blunder in their plan. He’d been too focused on running away from his problems to even think about that.

Gus then told him about a new job that he recently started as a pharmaceutical salesman that apparently paid more than all of Shawn’s minimum wage jobs combined. It paid enough for Gus to rent one of those luxury apartments with a gym and a pool that Shawn’s always wanted.

He was happy for Gus, really.

He was also really fucking sad that he missed out on so much.

On the second day, they spent the entire day playing board and card games — apparently time at college gave Gus enough time to learn how to gamble because he managed to beat Shawn in poker twice but Shawn redeemed himself in Monopoly and Candyland.

Shawn snuck in some Chinese takeout that they secretly ravished after Gus complained about the hospital food. The nurse stumbled in upon their slaughter and reprimanded them for it much to their amusement. Afterwards, they watched reruns of Three Stooges and it was so ridiculous and overly cartoonish in its comedy but they laughed at every single joke.

Gus ended up succumbing to his exhaustion a little later in the night, laying with his head tucked on the pillow as he breathed softly through his parted lips. Shawn looked over at Gus and felt his heart clench as he inwardly pondered how he could ever reconcile with the fact that he’d willingly gone four years without his best friend, without the person he cared for the most in the entire world.

It’s a question he thinks he’ll never be able to answer.

On the third day, things between them become familiar and normal. It starts to feel like they’re Shawn and Gus again as a whole not as separates anymore and Shawn doesn’t think he’s ever been happier than he is right now.

On the fourth day is when Shawn realizes a few things. They’re in Gus’ room again and he’s finally being discharged after being cooped up in the fight fitted room and barely surviving off of watered down meatloaf and stale bread for nearly a week. Shawn’s in the room, skimming through a magazine waiting for Gus to finished getting dressed so that they could go out into the front while they waited for his parents, when he hears the bathroom door being pulled open.

“Shawn?” He looks up to see Gus’ head poked out of the door, his expression flushed as his chest heaved. “I need your help. I’m trying to finish getting ready but this damn cast makes everything harder.”

Shawn set the magazine down as he clambered to his feet. “Are you sure you want my help because you wouldn’t even take off your shirt in front of me when we used to go swimming,” He teases lightheartedly, smiling at the flustered expression in Gus’ face as he says this.

“That was different. I was younger and still getting used to my developing body. Just come in here!” He avers, grabbing Shawn’s arm and tugging him into the bathroom as he closes the door behind them.

It’s not like he was staring per se, but he’d certainly taken heed at Gus body. He was standing in the middle of the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs that complimented him fittingly, the material snug around his hips. He’d apparently started working out during some time in between his adolescence and early adulthood because Gus now had abs that were chiseled and taut; and when he turned around to pick up his shirt that had fallen to the floor, Shawn could see the muscles in his back flex as he moved.

His eyes appreciatively gauge at Gus’ seemingly fit physique wondering when the hell did that happen.

Shawn hurriedly averts his eyes, managing to look away just before Gus turns back around to face him. “I thought it wouldn’t be so bad with a broken arm but this fucking sucks,” He complains, extending the shirt out to Shawn who hikes up the hem and shimmies it over Gus’ head, tugging it down and over his torso.

He ignores the flutter in his stomach when his fingers brush over Gus’ stomach.

“Do you need me to stay over and help you for a while?” He offers, his mind only briefly wanders back on his job knowing that he would probably be unemployed by the time he returns which meant that Tijuana was going to be postponed for the time being but staying with Gus was worth it.

Gus smiles sheepishly, looking over at Shawn. “Thanks, but I know you’re probably ready to go back to Las Vegas.”

Shawn pulls the shirt all the way down over Gus’ abdomen, frowning a bit at his words. “No, I mean I’m not in a rush to go back. I can stay, I want to stay here for you if you need me.”

Please need me.

“Are you planning on seeing your dad?” Gus posits in curiosity, seemingly subverting the topic of conversation so quickly that it has Shawn wondering why Gus was so hesitant in letting him stay over. He knows that it’s still going to take some time to fully get all of Gus’ trust back but he thought that these past few days were showing some progress.

“Uh, no. I think it’s best if we stay away from each other for the time being.”

“It’s been four years. How much longer do you need?” Gus rebuttals; and okay, maybe he’s right but his relationship with his father was complicated and definitely something that he didn’t want to talk or think about right now.

Gus sighs, “The only reason I ask is because I’ve seen him around Shawn. As much as you think he doesn’t like you, he seems pretty miserable to me that you’re gone.”

Shawn guffaws softly at this, “Yeah, right.” He murmurs disbelieving, reminiscing on the fight they’d had the night before he left home where Henry explicitly said that he couldn’t wait until Shawn left because then he wouldn’t have to deal with the headache of him being around anymore. “He doesn’t miss me, Gus. He’s glad that I’m gone, trust me.”

Gus only shakes his head before eventually dropping the conversation, knowing that it was futile in trying to convince Shawn of otherwise. “Alright…this might be a little more complicated and uncomfortable,” He surmises, nudging his chin outwardly towards the pair of sweatpants that his mother had packed for him.

Shawn grabbed the sweatpants and stood in front of Gus. He extended the sweatpants out, making it easy for Gus to slide a leg in each pant leg. Gus nearly tumbles and instinctively reaches a hand out, resting it onto Shawn’s waist to anchor his fall. “Sorry,” Gus murmurs, fitting his other leg into the pant leg.

Shawn tugged at the waistband, pulling it further up Gus’ legs when he’s gotten them both all the way in the sweats. His fingers inadvertently brush against Gus’ cock when he’s adjusting the sweatpants around his waist and he feels his face immediately blush in a deep crimson color. He gauges a quick look up at Gus, peeking at him underneath the wisps of his eyelashes — Gus is looking up at the ceiling, biting on his lower lip as he avoided Shawn’s gaze.

“Sorry, I was—”

“No it’s—”

“—I wasn’t trying to—”

“—Shawn—”

“Gus!” Both Shawn and Gus pause at the shrilly shriek of someone calling out his name. They exchange confused looks until realization dawns upon Gus who’s now using his freehand to roughly pull his pants up the remainder of the way. He’s reaching for the doorknob and is making a haste egress seconds later, walking out to greet the approaching woman.

Shawn follows behind Gus out of the bathroom, barely making it halfway into the room before he’s blindsided with the sight of Gus and a woman kissing vehemently in the middle of the room. Gus has his arm around her waist while she’s got her hands on his face, pulling him closer as their kisses became more feverish. “What are you doing here?!” Gus asks, his sentences barely coherent between the woman’s kisses.

“You didn’t think I was going to not come see you, did you?!” She mutters, pecking his lips thrice before eventually pulling away to look him over. “Aw, my poor baby,” She coos, brushing her thumb over his cheek as he leans into her touch.

Shawn stood there quietly watching their embrace. Throughout the entire duration of the past few days, Gus has never once mentioned having a girlfriend or dating anyone. So, it’s a little surprising to see him with someone like this, holding and kissing her so affectionately. He harrumphed softly, capturing their attention because they’d gotten so enraptured in each other that they nearly forgot about his presence.

The woman peers over Gus’ shoulder and looks at Shawn. She smiles, wide and toothy, bringing her hand mid-air as she gestures a wave. “Hi, I’m Mira!”

The first impression of her is that she’s unnecessarily cheery (he knows he sounds like a grinch saying this, but how can someone be this enthusiastic all of the time even he has his limits and often broods to balance it all out.)

Shawn waves back, thinning his lips into a feeble smile. “Shawn,” His eyes linger downward to Gus’ hand as it descends to her lower backside. She giggles, playfully nudging at his shoulder before shifting her attention back into Shawn.

“Shawn! Do you want to see the ring my pookiebear Gus got for me?” She gasps, already making her way over towards him much against Gus’ dismay as he reaches for her to attempt to stop her with hushed exclaims of ‘no, no, no, Mira!’ but she maneuvers out of his reach and saunters up to Shawn, holding her hand up in the air and displaying a small diamond ring that’s decorating her finger. “He got it for me after the wedding. Isn’t it beautiful?”

Shawn looks up at Gus who gives him an apologetic smile and only shrugs in response.

His mind couldn’t even begin to fathom the fact that Gus is married. Not only did he neglect to mention the fact that he’d been dating, but that he liked the woman enough to marry her as well at a wedding that he didn’t receive an invitation to or have any knowledge about. Or the painful realization of Gus apparently not wanting Shawn to know about it either from the way he tried to stop Mira from telling him about it.

Shawn couldn’t believe that this is what their friendship looked like now; hidden secrets and minimal communication between them.

If you would’ve told younger Shawn that he would end up losing Gus as a friend when they’re older, he would laughed in your face at the ridiculous absurdity of that comment. Adult Shawn isn’t laughing, he’s heartbroken and upset. He swallows the thick lump that’s stuck in his throat, nodding his head as she masqueraded his heartbreak behind a false smile.

“Yeah, it’s, it’s really great.”

Mira giggles again before practically skipping her way back over to Gus, “Are you almost ready to go? I told your mom we’d go by the house for dinner tonight since she let me pick you up instead,”

He nods, “Yeah. I just have to sign a few discharge papers first.”

Mira nodded as she grabbed Gus’ duffle bag and slung the straps over her shoulder. “I’ll go take this to the car,” She informs him, pressing one last kiss on his lips before departing from the room.

When she’s gone, Gus turns to Shawn. “Sorry about Mira, I know she can be a little eccentric and an acquired taste to some people,”

That’s one way to put it. Shawn ruminates haughtily. “She seems nice. Where’d you two meet?”

“In Mexico last year. I was on spring break; me and a couple of friends took a trip down there for a few days. I met her at a bar, we got drunk and next thing I know were at a chapel with a donkey as my best man.”

“Wow. That sounds very…unlike you,” Shawn laments and Gus frowns a bit at this furrowing his brows. He knows he can’t argue against it because he knows Shawn’s right; Gus wasn’t as adventurous and spontaneous enough to do something like elope with some woman he barely knows. That wasn’t his Gus.

“Yeah, well.”

“And I’m assuming that your parents don’t know either? Because knowing your mother she’d probably have a heart attack if she found out that you eloped instead of having a traditional wedding,”

At this, Gus only smacks his teeth instead of answering with a verbal response which tells Shawn that he’s right. “Thanks for visiting and for staying here with me. I’m gonna head out. I’ll see you around, Shawn.”

…

It’s been two days since he’s last seen Gus. He’s been trying to give him time to settle in after the accident before going to confront him but Shawn had grown exasperated of waiting.

He needed to talk to Gus now, before it’s too late to salvage what’s left of their tainted relationship. He doesn’t know Gus’ new address to his apartment but he remembers Mira mentioning them staying at Gus’ parents house so he chances that as where he was in hopes that it would be true.

He drives through the city, making his way to his childhood neighborhood. He peers over at his house and notices his dad’s truck parked in the driveway, he looks away and drives up to the Guster’s house instead, parking his motorcycle on the side as he cut off the engine. He takes off the helmet and sets it on the rest before making his way up the driveway. Reaching the front porch, he brings his hand up and knocks on the door then stands there waiting patiently for someone to answer.

He’s standing there for a few moments before he finally hears the sound of the door unlocking. He’s relieved to see that it’s Gus who answers the door, but confusion stretches across Gus’ features when he sees Shawn standing there. Nonetheless, he pulls the door open and steps aside allowing Shawn entrance.

“I thought you would’ve been back in Vegas by now,”

Shawn shakes his head as he walks into the living room. He stands there waiting and watching as Gus locked the door then followed behind him. “No, still here. I came by because,” He shakes his head, sighing softly, “we gotta talk man. Everything’s weird and wrong between us.”

Gus folded his arms across his chest, “What do you mean?”

He wants to scream at Gus’ blatant obliviousness because how couldn’t he feel them drifting further apart? Was Shawn the only one who missed the closeness between them? Had his absence inadvertently pushed Gus away and into the arms of Mira instead, where she’s been acting as a temporary replacement in his life? All of his emotions are scattered around and has him beginning to panic. Did Gus really not care that they weren’t best friends anymore?

Running his hands through his hair, Shawn emanates a deep suspire. “I mean this, us!” He gestures a hand between them, continuing with his spiel. “It’s like I want to try to rekindle things with us but you’re pushing me away. We don’t talk. We don’t hang out, you didn’t even want me to know that you were married! I just don’t get how we went from best friends to now being strangers but I hate it because I miss you, Gus.”

“We aren’t strangers, people just change, Shawn.” He doesn’t know how many times he can keep hearing this. This trivialization that Gus is doing is infuriating him profusely. “And we aren’t as close as we were because you decided to leave. It’s kinda what you do. So, excuse me if I’m a little reluctant to let you back into my life,” Gus laments with a halfhearted shrug, that has Shawn’s heart closing in on itself.

Gus’ feelings were fair but couldn’t he see that Shawn was at least trying?

“I’m trying—”

“You don’t need to Shawn. It’s pointless. You’ll be gone again probably for longer next time and we’ll just be right back where we started.”

Shawn blinks, a little hurt by Gus’ apropos. “So that’s it? You don’t even want to try?”

Gus sighs, lowering his eyes as he shakes his head. “Shawn… Mira’s coming over any second now and—”

“I don’t care about Mira! I care about you and us,”

Gus scoffs, rolling his eyes at Shawn’s sentiments. “If you cared you wouldn’t have left me for four years! It took me being in a hospital to get you back here! And now you’re what? Trying to make up for abandoning me, that’s so like you.” His words are venomous as they emanate from his mouth and Shawn’s taken aback by the visceral haughtiness of it. They’ve argued before but it’s never been to this extent, never this real and scary.

“I abandoned you? You were abandoning me first! You couldn’t wait to leave here and go to college to meet all your new friends,” Shawn rebuttals, unable to contain the emotions that’s been stewing inside of him.

Prior to his leaving, he remembers the solemn feeling he felt when he would hear Gus raving about college, how excited he was to meet new people. All Shawn could think about was how easily his existence was going to be erased from Gus’ life the moment he met new people, how he and Santa Barbara would become a distant memory as he progressed into this new stage in his life.

Sure, it would only have been a few hours away, but he and Gus had never been separated before and his worries had gotten the better of him so he left because of his fear of losing Gus and because he’d already lost his mother.

“Don’t do that. Because I was only going a few hours away, you left the state! You didn’t even say goodbye you just left me Shawn! And you didn’t even have the decency of calling for a year afterwards.”

Shawn lowers his eyes, abashed. “It was too hard. I didn’t — I couldn’t—”

Gus throws his hand in the air in defeat, baffled by Shawn’s capability of turning this situation around and perceiving it like he was the one that got left instead of Gus. It’s always been this back and forth but Gus had grown tired of it; of sheltering his emotions when it came to Shawn.

“It couldn’t have possibly been that hard because you stayed away for four years,”

“You think it was easy being away from you?” Shawn accosts incredulously.

There’s no way Gus could even begin to fathom how hard it’s been, how much it’s killed him not being around. None of this has been easy, especially not now standing here and listening to Gus express his feelings of abandonment after he left. He wanted to make things right or at least try but Gus was adamant in his stubbornness, setting these walls that has Shawn kept at a distance.

His throat’s clicking and he can feel his pupils welding with solemn tears again. “I wanted to come back to you but I’ve been afraid of this, of you pushing me away. I don’t know what to do to prove to you how fucking sorry I am but I am, Gus. Please. I can’t deal with you hating me like this,” He begs so pathetic and desperate that Shawn barely recognizes his own voice.

“I don’t hate you, Shawn,” Gus clarifies; and for a brief moment, Shawn thinks that maybe they’ll be okay, that their friendship hadn’t completely demised like he assumed. But then, “I just don’t trust you anymore and I can’t have someone in my life that I can’t trust.” And he feels his heart plummeting to his feet as defeat and despair mulls over him.

…

On Saturday, he returns to Vegas.

He has to beg Thomas for his job back, picking up double shifts for the next two weeks to make up for walking out. He doesn’t go to Tijuana but instead drives down to Texas with a few guys he met at the restaurant who were heading there for a festival.

[hartbreakxd]

STUMBLE ( for becks attitude era au )

SITTING IN SOMEONE'S LAP PROMPTS.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ || @blbcabelts

[ STUMBLE ]: sender loses their balance and trips backwards, falling into the receiver's lap in the process.

He was taken completely off guard when she approached him after his match a few weeks prior. Not that he wasn't used to women being all up in his face except by now, it was becoming less of a common occurrence in regards to his fellow coworkers. His rift with Bret was making things awkward not to mention Shawn wasn't doing himself any favors either. Because he was an asshole and since everyone just assumed Bret was right all the time, it gave him even more reason to act the part of an ass.

And so… he did. He gave them EXACTLY what they wanted from night to night, made only that much easier by the amount of booze he consumed following work. He guessed he didn't WANT to drink every night except drinking did at least, numb the pain of Bret's longing looks but refusal to give him the time of day anymore. There was that and the back pain that was getting increasingly worse from week to week. He chalked it up to the aerials he performed each night in the ring, but he had a job to do. No one came to see HBK wrestle like Hogan. They wanted the acrobatics and by god he was going to give it to them even if it killed him.

Speaking of…

Becky wanted to try out some new moves --- ones that she needed to test before taking them to Vince for approval. Simply put, the women weren't exactly allowed to put themselves in harm's way too much. The old man was exercising SOME leniency given the other programming competing with them nightly. Despite women proving themselves more than capable of a few hurricaranas and whatnot, the old man was still fixated on them being 'pretty' but not lethal.

Shawn scoffed. Stupid old man. He was part of the reason why guys like Hogan overstayed their welcome in the main event. And it was by that logic and a need to be an accomplice in a rebellious act that led to him agreeing to meet her in the ring. Few thought nothing of it as they passed them by during warm ups. To others, it just looked like harmless reps while Shawn was actually giving her tips how to land that moonsault better.

〝 Alright from the top! 〞 he shouted. Shawn slung her into the corner, following behind her quickly to take an elbow. He stumbled back, watching her climb the turnbuckle. In her haste, she lost her footing with her boot catching the top corner rope. His eyes widened as she came stumbling backwards but he was quick. He extended his arms catching her from behind while falling back onto the mat. There he sat holding her in his lap while they both groaned in pain. He'd be fine. The bumps he would take later that night would be nothing compared to this, but it was her own groaning that had his features twisting in concern shooting down the myth that he was incapable of concerning himself with others. On the contrary, he could care a great deal. He just chose not to for his own peace of mind.

〝 Hey… you good? 〞 He lightly squeezed her hip. 〝 I mean, I suppose I coulda let you hit the mat. That DOES happen when someone messes up your move, but seemed wrong of me when I could break your fall you know? 〞 He paused. 〝 Just tell me in the future if you'd rather take the bump. I ain't trying to get myself smacked or fired. Don't know what the fuck I'd do if I didn't have wrestling. S'pect I'd be an adult video worker.〞

[tameodesza]

Love’s Maze (BretShawn)

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AO3 link

Shawn is comforted by Bret after getting into a heated argument with Marty

Bret intended on ending his interest in Shawn after seeing him leave with Marty that night. He wasn’t a home wrecker, and he definitely didn’t want to be someone’s second choice.

Even if he did want to still pursue Shawn, he found out pretty quickly backstage that wherever Shawn went, Marty followed. It never failed. So it was highly unlikely that he’d get a moment alone with the man, which is probably a blessing in disguise. 

So to avoid temptation, he planned on ignoring Shawn, purposely avoiding the blond whenever he could. 

Or at least that was the plan. 

A few days later after another house show, Bret agreed to go out drinking again at the hotel bar. He’d convinced himself that he just needed to unwind, but the truth was that he needed something to take his mind off of a certain blond, not that he’d ever admit it. 

Unfortunately for Bret, the man that he wanted to take his mind off of was directly in his line of sight, sitting across the bar with Marty again.

Bret let out a breath as he shook his head, planning to look elsewhere to spare himself of the pair’s PDA. That was until he noticed something different about the two. 

Instead of the light touches and intimate glances they’d given each other a few nights ago, it seemed like the two were in the midst of a heated exchange of words. Marty appeared to be doing most of the yelling while Shawn more so reacted with furrowed brows, delivering sharp responses of his own. 

There was a short moment where Bret was getting a little concerned with how close Marty was getting as he yelled in Shawn’s face, but the younger man didn’t seem too fazed, as if he were used to the behavior.

“Uh oh, trouble in paradise,” said Owen as he watched on with Bret. 

The argument had gained quite a few spectators – Bret and Owen included. Bret didn’t know how long he’d been watching, but thought it’d be best to give them some privacy. 

As soon as he made the decision to turn away, that’s when Marty stormed off, knocking Shawn’s drink over in the process. Shawn mouthed the words ‘fucking asshole’ at Marty’s retreating back before turning around to ask the bartender for another drink. 

Bret’s attention was pulled from the blond when Owen gave an encouraging pat on his shoulder saying, “It’s your time to shine, Prince Charming!” 

Bret shoved him off as he said in irritation, “Will you give it a rest?”

“Dude, come on. This is the only time we’ve seen the guy alone all week. Here’s your chance!”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s taken.”

“You don’t even know that for sure! Are you really not even going to try?”

Owen brought up a good point. Bret still didn’t know the depths of Shawn and Marty’s situation. He assumed they were together, but maybe they weren’t. Maybe they were friends. Or friends with benefits. Maybe they weren’t even exclusive.

There was only one way to find out. 

Realizing that he finally had Bret where he wanted him, Owen emphasized, “Just talk to him.”

“I’m not hitting on him, Owen.”

“I’m not saying to do that. But I know you want to talk to him. And he looks like he could use a good conversation right about now. Don’t let your opportunity go to waste.”

“Why do you even care?”

“Because I don’t want to hear you bitching later on about what you should’ve done. Just do it! If it doesn’t work out, then at least you tried.”

Bret hated admitting when Owen was right, and there were very few times that he was. This seemed to be one of those times.

“Fine.”

Owen clapped his hands in celebration. “Woo! There you go, brother. Good luck! And if you do end up getting lucky, please let me know if I need to sleep in Davey’s room tonight. I’d rather not walk in on you fuc-”

“Yeah, yeah, bye Owen!”

Bret left in a haste, no longer being able to stand Owen commenting on him potentially getting laid. He hadn’t even had a conversation with the blond man yet, so talks of sex was a bit premature to say the least.

Not that he was opposed to it either. Shawn was without a doubt the most beautiful man Bret had ever laid eyes on. If he indeed did end up getting lucky that night, that would just be the cherry on top.

However, all thoughts of potentially getting Shawn in bed went away once Bret walked a little closer to him, seeing a silver band shining from Shawn’s ring finger. Bret hadn’t noticed the ring before anytime he’d briefly seen the man at the arena. But it was shining proudly in the bar lights for everyone to see.

Bret almost turned around in that moment. What was the point? He’d be wasting his time and probably make Shawn feel uncomfortable, the blond probably having to think of a way to turn down Bret’s advances gently. Bret still had pride, you know?

But when he looked back to see Owen flashing a bright smile his way as he gave two thumbs up, Bret knew there was no going back. So he decided to just use the moment to talk to Shawn, nothing more. He was still curious about the man, so it was the perfect opportunity to get to know him.

Shawn was unaware of Bret standing a few feet behind him, the blond having his own internal battle going on. He stared gloomily into his half empty cocktail as he thought about the fight he and Marty had just gotten into.

The night had been going so well until a few moments ago. Marty was drunk off his ass and got pissed that Shawn didn’t want to go back to the hotel yet. Shawn knew all Marty wanted to do was leave to go have sex and he just didn’t feel like it. He wanted to enjoy himself and get to know some of his new colleagues. He barely had the chance to do so with Marty hovering around him all the time.

After standing his ground and telling Marty he could go back to the hotel himself, that’s when Marty flipped out, not used to Shawn telling him ‘no.’

 ‘Why the fuck would you want to stay here without me?!’

‘Oh, I don’t know! Maybe to introduce myself to some of the guys we’ll be working with?! Maybe because I need a little me time?! God, I feel like I haven’t had a moment alone since we got here!’

 And apparently that was the wrong thing to say because it only seemed to further fuel Marty, the man calling Shawn every name in the book and alluding that the real reason Shawn wanted to fuck someone else instead. It was stupid, but there was no reasoning with Marty when he was like that.

So when Marty stormed off, Shawn was honestly relieved. He’d usually chase after Marty, which was no doubt what the older man probably expected, but Shawn was tired. He just needed to breathe and take his mind off of Marty for a moment.

Too engrossed in his own thoughts, Shawn barely realized that Bret had sat next to him. That was until he saw the bartender coming over his way. “I’m good. I don’t want to get anything else.”

The bartender gave a confused look before pointing a finger in the direction of the chair next to Shawn. That’s when Shawn looked and nearly froze when he saw Bret Hart.

“I’ll take a gin and tonic,” he said to the bartender. “You want anything?”

And it took a slight second for Shawn to realize that Bret was asking him the question. “Oh, no I’m good,” he said as he lifted the drink in his hand.

At that, the bartender walked away to work on Bret’s drink, leaving the two men to sit in silence amongst the loud environment of the bar.

Bret was the first to speak up saying, “Hey, I never got a chance to introduce myself.” He held out his hand. “I’m Bret.”

Oh, Shawn knew exactly who he was. He had a huge amount of respect for him as a wrestler. The fact that he was talking to Shawn right now seemed unreal. But he had to play it cool.

Shawn shook his hand saying, “Hey, I’m Shawn. Nice to meet you.”

“You as well. Sorry I’m just now getting around to meeting you. I know you’ve been here for a few days.”

Shawn gave a soft smile, a smile that Bret knew he wanted to see more often.

“It’s ok. Don’t worry about it. I’ve been a bit…occupied anyway. I haven’t had a chance to meet everyone yet.” Shawn’s smile slightly faltered as he was reminded that the reason he hadn’t been able to meet everyone was because of Marty.

“You came as a tag team or are you wrestling singles?”

“Tagging. Marty’s my partner. We’ve been tagging ever since we broke into the business.”

“I see.” There was a short pause before Bret decided to ask. “Is he always like that?”

Shawn didn’t need an explanation to know what Bret was talking about.

It was embarrassing that Marty behaved like that in public, airing out their dirty laundry for everyone to see. But Shawn also wasn’t one to back down from a confrontation. They were like oil and fire when they argued, and if they happened to have an argument in public, it wasn’t going to stop them from standing their ground.

Shawn sighed as he sank lower into his seat, staring into his glass. “So you saw that.” Bret nodded prompting Shawn to say, “He’s not like that all the time, no. Most days, he’s the more levelheaded one out of the two of us. But when he drinks… I don’t know. He can be pretty hard to deal with. But he’ll be fine in the morning, though. It’s just… it’s complicated.”

Shawn really didn’t want to talk about Marty, but who was he to tell Bret Hart what to talk about?

The bartender then brought Bret his drink before leaving the two alone again. Bret took a sip, sighing as the familiar burn of the alcohol traveled down his throat. “Yeah, marriages can be tough.”

Shawn tilted his head in confusion, furrowing his brows as he looked up at Bret. “Marriage?”

Shawn’s reaction threw Bret off as well. He gave a nod as he pointed at the ring on Shawn’s finger.

Shawn looked down at the ring, chuckling lightly as he held out his hand to examine the silver band. “Oh, this? Trust me, it’s not a wedding ring.”

Oh? Bret perked up, interested in the possibility of Shawn being single. Unfortunately for him, Shawn hadn’t stopped there.

The blond continued, “Marty gave it to me a few years ago. He likes it when I wear it out so people know I’m taken.”

And just like that, Bret’s excitement went down the drain, Shawn confirming that he’s off limits.

Bret took another sip of his drink, using it as an excuse to collect himself before asking, “Oh, you two are…,” he trailed.

“Together,” Shawn said with a nod. “High school sweethearts, actually,” he said as another smile made its way onto his face.

Genuinely curious, Bret asked, “If that’s the case, why not replace the promise ring with a real wedding ring?”

Shawn’s smile slowly faded away as he went quiet, his eyes focusing back onto the cup in his hand.

He was hesitant to answer, unsure how much of his personal life he should divulge to Bret. Was it wise to delve into his relationship problems with a guy he’d just met? Probably not.

But he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel good to talk to someone that wasn’t Marty or Marty’s friends. He’d been holding in so much for so long, and Bret’s questions seemed to open the floodgates.

Bret noticed the shift in the blond’s mood, making him wish he hadn’t opened his mouth. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that,” he rushed out.

Shawn shook his head as he looked back up at Bret. “No, no, it’s fine. I sometimes ask myself the same thing. To be honest, I think it’ll be a cold day in hell the day Marty proposes, if ever,” he said before finally downing the rest of his drink.

That certainly wasn’t the response Bret was expecting. He didn’t want to pry any further, but now he was interested. “What makes you say that?”

Shawn shrugged. “I think the idea of marriage scares him, which I can understand to a certain extent. But we’ve been together for so long. I don’t think getting married would be too far-fetched for us.”

Bret took another sip, finishing off his drink before asking, “In that case, what is he waiting on?”

It was more of a question to himself. Maybe it’s because he was envious, but Bret couldn’t understand how Marty could have gone this long without marrying the blond. He was sure if he’d been in Marty’s position, Shawn would be sporting something nicer than the promise ring that was on his finger.

Shawn ran a hand through his hair as he answered, “It’s hard to make sense of that man. But he’s not going anywhere, so it is what it is, I guess.” Another dagger to Bret’s heart. “But thanks for listening to me rant. You must be dying to talk about something else.”

Bret gave a gentle smile to ease Shawn’s worries. “No, it’s fine. I’m not bothered.” Maybe he was bummed that Shawn was off limits, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to stop talking to the man.

Shawn sighed saying, “I hope everyone else here is as nice as you. Marty and I haven’t had the greatest luck in the past, especially with us being a couple. You couldn’t even imagine the homophobic remarks we’ve had to deal with since getting into this business.”

And that made Bret’s skin crawl. One thing he couldn’t stand was judging a person because of their sexuality. He was bi himself, but even before figuring that out about himself, he’d never felt the need to belittle someone because of their sexuality.

He said seriously, “You won’t have to worry about that here. Vince has a strict policy against shit like that. I mean yeah, there are some people who are ignorant of that type of stuff, but most people here don’t care. I surely don’t.”

Shawn felt a sense of relief wash over him. “Really?”

“Yeah. And if anyone does mess with you, you let me know. I’ll take care of it.” And he meant it.

Shawn smiled appreciatively, truly thankful that someone not only accepted him, but was willing to stand up for him should the time arise.

Feeling guilty for taking over the conversation, Shawn decided to switch topics. “So, you’ve learned a little about me. What about you? You married?”

Bret raised his left hand, displaying no ring in sight. “Happily divorced.”

“Oh,” Shawn said awkwardly, “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Trust me, I’m much happier now.”

“Still… getting divorced couldn’t have been fun. Do you…do you think you’d ever get married again?”

Bret thought it over briefly. During the divorce process, he swore he’d never get married again. It had been a messy divorce, his ex-wife attempting to milk him for every penny he had.

But after the divorce was finalized, Bret felt rejuvenated. Instead of being put off by the thought of love or marriage, he was eager to get it right the second time around.

Bret answered assuredly, “If I meet the right person,” his gaze lingering on Shawn.

The moment was brief, barely lasting a couple seconds, but there was an unexplainable connection felt between the two. Shawn was the first to break eye contact, looking off to the side as he felt his cheeks heating up. That’s when he caught sight of Marty stumbling and pushing his way through the bar in his direction.

Shawn let out a dreadful sigh, not wanting his conversation with Bret to end, but knowing he needed to talk Marty. “I should go check on him.”

Shawn pulled out his wallet to cover his tab, but came to a halt when Bret said, “I got it.”

Shawn looked on in surprise. “Really?” Bret nodded, but Shawn still wasn’t convinced. “Are you sure?”

Bret nodded again as he slapped a few bills on the table. “Yeah, it’s fine. Think of it as a welcome gift.”

Shawn wanted to protest further, but he really needed to get to Marty. He put away his wallet saying, “Thanks, Bret. I owe you one. See you around.”

Before Bret could tell the blond that he didn’t have to repay him, Shawn was off to find Marty.

Bret said to himself, “Yeah, see you later.”

Bret slumped in his chair as he watched Shawn walk away to meet Marty halfway across the bar. Part of him expected the couple to start arguing again, but once they were within each other’s reach, Marty pulled Shawn into a hug, burying his face into the younger man’s neck. All seemed forgiven as Shawn rubbed the man’s lower back in comfort before guiding them both out of the bar, further digging the knife into Bret’s chest.

[jayletrill]

Windenburg - Winter 2022

Shawn LaBeau (68), Siobhan LaBeau (67), Irvin LaBeau (18)

In a tragic turn of events last season, Kathleen Beck passed away, and her passing has left Irvin in shambles.

This was the first time that death hit so close to home for Irvin and he wasn't sure how to deal with it.

Shawn also lost a close friend last season and both deaths left a cloud of heaviness on the entire family.

Siobhan wasn't sure what the Universe had in store for her family this winter season, but she refused to let grief win.

In an attempt to distract the family, Siobhan booked a trip to El Selvadorada. Unfortunately, in her haste to take action, she neglected to account for the rainy season in the winter there.

The first day got off to a rocky start, but by the second night, things had taken a turn for the best.

Shawn and Irvin found time to speak to each other about the grief they experienced. Irvin poured his heart out to his father.

"I really liked her," Shawn said.

"I'm sorry son. Sometimes life isn't fair, but we have to hold the line anyway." Shawn struggled to tell his son how only time can mend such things. "I'll be here to support you however I can."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eventually, Siobhan and Shawn found themselves enjoying the local bar while Irvin made a new friend.

After 3 days the novelty of the jungle began to fade and Siobhan began to miss home.

She decided it would be a good idea to end the trip after a visit to the archaeology museum. She knew Irvin was searching for his path in college and wondered if this trip might unlock a new interest for him.

It was unclear whether or not the relics of El Salvodorada inspired Irvin enough to declare his major, but they did at least give him a distraction from his grief.

By the time they returned home, he was back to his social self.

Shawn had turned over an entirely new leaf, beginning to open himself up to more wellness activities.

Even Siobhan gained a second wind.

With their last child going to college soon eventually it would only be her and Shawn left in the house.

What would they do as empty nesters? she wondered.

Only time will tell...

[northernnlightss]

Welcome to the family: Shawn 🍼

Nathan and Juliet welcomes their first child, Shawn!🧸 It was prom night and the young couple was ready to leave the house in none other than a limousine! However their prom night was cut short because Juliet’a water broke right before they went into the school! Certainly a day they won’t forget!😆

[fckdaveed]

(—) ★ spotted!! daveed dubois on the cover of this week’s most recent tabloid! many say that the 38 # year old looks like charles michael davis, but i don’t really see it. while the singer/music producer is known for being savvy my inside sources say that they have a tendency to be restless i swear, every time i think of them, i hear the song bad habits by usher  {he/him / cismale} - penned by oops laice did it again

BASICS

FULL NAME: daveed vincent dubois NICKNAME: davey, dav, dubois, dd AGE: thirty-eight GENDER: cismale PRONOUNS: he/him HAIR COLOR: dark brown EYE COLOR: brown SEXUAL AND ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: heterosexual OCCUPATION: singer/music producer CAREER CLAIM: usher CHARACTER INFLUENCES: steven hyde ( that 70′s show ), jess mariano ( gilmore girls ), hook ( once upon a time ), caleb rivers (pretty little liars ), lip gallagher ( shameless ), jesse pinkman ( breaking bad ), james cook ( skins ), shawn hunter ( boy meets world )  TATTOOS:  none PIERCINGS: none  FAVORITE SEASON: summer FAVORITE COLOR: blue FAVORITE MUSIC: r&b FAVORITE ANIMAL: tiger. FEARS: ocean. HOBBIES: songwriting, video games, hiking, fitness

BIOGRAPHY 

daveed dubois was born to marie hastings and charles cunningham, two people who had no business ever having children together. his father was in and out of jail constantly and his mother was a drug addict with bad taste in men. his whole childhood was spent trying to be as unnoticed as possible. the only interaction he ever really had with his mother was when she was passed out in the mornings and he put a blanket over her in case she was cold, and the only interaction he had with his father was when he wrote from jail asking for money. and when his dad wasn’t in prison, it was even worse. any anger he felt would be constantly taken out on daveed who hadn’t known what he had done wrong or why it was happening. all he knew was that he must be very very hard to love. daveed learned very, very young how important it was to fend for yourself and never rely on anyone else. he’d learned to lie, steal, cheat and beg. he got odd jobs from anyone who wasn’t above hiring a six year old to get some money in but most importantly, he learned how to hide just how awful his home life was. 

when he was twelve years old, his life was flipped upside down. his mother ran off. one day she just never came back. daveed waited for her for a solid month, hoping she’d come back, ducking from questions from anyone about her, not wanting to be put into the system. but eventually a concerned friend of his gave up his situation to their parents who then gave him up to the authorities. he wasn’t sure where he was going to end up, with his mom nowhere to be found and his dad in prison, things looked abysmal for young daveed. but then he got a call he wasn’t expecting. it turned out charles cunnigham wasn’t his father at all, but instead a man name vincent dubois was. the latter having had no knowledge of daveed’s existence up until now. 

vincent dubois was a world famous music producer, having scouted and spotted many, many talents over the years. he had money beyond daveed’s wildest dreams. and he was kind. he wasn’t able to be around all the time, but he doted on daveed, showed him what it was like to truly be loved and cared for. he now lived beyond his means, his room was bigger than his old house, everything was so glamorous. but for him, the only thing he cared about was hanging out with his dad. when he was with his dad, he was happy. he tapped into daveed’s musical talent, a talent he hadn’t even known he had. instead of being told to shut up and go away, he was told to find his voice and sing as loud as he could. and when he turned eighteen years old, together they released his first album my way. 

[asterlizard]

UK Trip October 2023 (Part 1)

(oh boy I have missed doing one of these!)

This was the first time travelling since the pandemic began, so of course there was a bit of stress while prepping for this trip. But because we were careful throughout the trip, we avoided anything that could have hindered us.

This felt like a part two to our trip back in 2019, with some unfinished business finally feeling finished. And yet, with only two weeks of travel time, even more unfinished business was made!

Like our previous trip, our flight would leave in the middle of the day, so we had to wake up pretty early in order to get to SFO, check-in, and board the plane on time.

Unfortunately for us, we didn't get much sleep that night. We also used a different ride-share service this time, rather than taking the bus, because our schedules would have conflicted.

We met up at 7:15, and had a good chat with our driver for almost the entire trip, who was from a small town in the Balkans of Bulgaria. When he brought this up, I brought up what I knew about the culture, mainly roses and yogurt (cultural knowledge is a really good ice-breaker!) While chatting, we'd deviate to other topics, including computer science and the rise of A.I. As we drove through San Francisco, he even recommended a restaurant to us! (Kevin's Noodle House)

We arrived at the airport after 9 AM, and checked our bags in pretty quickly. Our flight wasn't until 12:30, so we had plenty of time to kill. I did have a little something to eat before going through customs, but alas I wasn't hungry enough didn't have anything else until the flight.

The flight itself wasn't packed at all! I'm so used to flying during busy seasons, and this flight was like half full! We even got to move to an empty row so we could have a space to ourselves! (Thanks Shawn!)

While we wanted to be careful and were prepared to wear our masks during the flight, because we had plenty of space (There was someone in the row ahead of us, but they slept almost the entire flight, and an empty row in front of them) we didn't really need to! There was also plenty of hand sanitizer on board which I used multiple times to keep my mind at ease. And there were no screaming babies! It was a very pleasant flight!

Wildfire over Idaho?

Entertainment-wise, I got to watch two films on the flight:

'6/45': a funny Korean film about soldiers from the North and South fighting over a winning lottery ticket across the DMZ

'Lost Love': a bittersweet Hong Kong film about a couple who recently lost their young child to an illness, eventually trying out fostering children

Also got to listen to some 80s and 90s music (no 60s or 70s anymore it seems, RIP)

During the night portion of our trip, I saw the stars so clearly (alas I couldn't take good photos) It's also been a while since I've arrived in LHR during the dark. Day just started to break as we were landing.

Once we got to LHR, we travelled by rail to stay at a friend of mum's for a couple of nights (first time taking the Elizabeth Line! Though there were some delays)

When we got there, mum's friend drove us to Hastings and gave us a bit of a tour along the beachside.

Note: I'm using an old camera that has a few cracks in the lens that is unfortunately visible in some photos like the one above. I won't be sharing much of these.

They had a cute working mini railway! With a proper mini crossing!

>:U

Stopped to have a sample of some fudge (it was really really good, mum commented it was how her mum used to make it, I wish I had more!)

This place is so charming!

Tumblr is now limiting how many photos I can add to a post, and I don't have the heart to remove photos I want to share, so this journal will be split into multiple parts.

Here is part 2: [link]

[julianbrandtrelated]

omggg no way, du hast es gefunden haha Hatte sie dann nicht auch so einen Entschuldigungstext geschrieben gehabt ??

Hättest halt einfach die shawn ffs weiter lesen und jb einsetzen müssen 😂 Wer die fcbavern Zeit miterlebt hat, ist halt einfach tumblr inventar @anon, das waren schon wilde Zeiten.

Jaaaaaa, leider leider gibt’s den Blog nicht mehr 💀 ich weiß noch wie sie da meinte, dass die Leute immer mehr wollten und sie des deswegen gemacht hat. 😂 was aus der wohl geworden ist?

Wir sind antik. 😭

[college-girl199328]

‘It’s miserable’: CRAB Park resident can’t wait to leave as province finalizes action plan for encampments

Two months after B.C. Premier David Eby promised to address Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside, he is finalizing an action plan to get the most vulnerable population housed.

While there has been a noticeable reduction in the number of tents along Hastings Street and in CRAB Park, Kahlon said his government continues to work with partners and stakeholders on the path forward.

After about eight months at CRAB Park, Shawn Dunbar said he was ready to get out. The encampment on the western edge of the public park’s waterfront was established in May 2021 and is still home to some two dozen people, including Dunbar and his partner.

The couple moved to B.C. from Ontario three years ago and became homeless when a live-work arrangement in Kelowna ended. Now, he said, the novelty of outdoor living has worn off.

Last May, a man was murdered in CRAB Park, while its encampment was the scene of a mass stabbing in October and a tent fire in December.

That same month, the B.C. government announced it was working with the City of Vancouver to build 90 units to help clear out the ongoing encampments in CRAB Park and East Hastings Street.

Still, Kahlon said moving everyone inside is challenging. While some may not want to leave the sense of community an encampment provides, Vancouver County Pete Fry said if people are sleeping outside because they feel safer there than in more permanent housing, we need to assess the deficiencies in the available shelter options.

In January 2022, the Vancouver Park Board’s request for an injunction to clear the CRAB Park encampment was rejected by BC Supreme Court Justice Matthew Kirchner, who ruled people cannot be evicted if suitable housing alternatives are not available.

Dunbar said he turned down a housing offer on Hastings Street in the Downtown Eastside because he doesn’t use drugs and wants to avoid that lifestyle.

The power was recently shut off in CRAB Park due to the harsh winter weather. The Park Board has installed a new transformer to provide electricity to the CRAB Park encampment after a spokesperson said vandalism to the power supply available to park users, programs, and events was discovered in December.

The Park Board has also secured the new transformer behind a fence to help prevent repeated damage, while signage has been installed to ensure safety and proper usage.