lesp1een

[lesp1een]

Migraine

p2 wound is always bleeds but he doesnt give a fuck abt it and p1 knows enough tactical medicine to take care of this wound

[lesp1een]

oh yes I enjoyed this film a lot.

[lesp1een]

Little question game since I'm bored

• name: Giona (Spleen)

• relationship status: taken ❤️

• sexuality: gay homosexual (i also like girls)

• gender: male

• pronouns: he/him

• birthday: 17 of july

• zodiac sign: Sun-cancer, moon-libra, rising-virgo I think

• hair colour: dark brown

• eye colour: brown

• height: 165 cm

• weight: i dont remember

SPECIFICS ⬇️

• what brand of shampoo do you use? A vegan shampoo of a brand i don't remember but it smells good

• what are you currently listening to? Plastic Jesus - Tia Blake

• who were you on the phone with last? My aunt

FAVOURITES ⬇️

• favourite animal: DOGS, mice and rats, bunnies, snails, whales and cows

• favourite colour: green 🍃

• favourite drink: blonde beers, red wine, black tea

• favourite periodic table element: WHAT ARE THOSE

• favourite food: rice and pork, blueberries, lasagna, ramen and pasta with bacon and asparagus

• favorite game: disco elysium

• favourite show: south park

• favourite movie: I have a lot of them. Dog day afternoon, the first Rocky, Scarface, Thelma and Louise, Dance with the devil and Paris, Texas are some of them

• favourite song: the day that music died, a lot of janis joplin songs, sultans of swing, a lot of mf doom music

• favourite school subject: italian lit and philosophy

• favourite fruit: blueberries, cherries and grapes

HAVE YOU EVER... ⬇️

• have you ever given someone a bath? Only to my dogs

• have you ever smoked? I have an addiction 😂

• have you ever bungee jumped? Nope

• have you ever skinny dipped? No

• have you ever been in love? Yes!!

• have you ever made yourself cry to get out of trouble? I WISH I WAS ABLE TO DO IT

• have you ever pictured someone naked? Yes

• have you ever actually seen someone naked? Yes

• have you ever cried when someone died? Yes, a lot of times

• have you ever lied? Yes

• have you ever fallen for a close friend? Yes but it was only something platonic mistaken for a crush

• have you ever used someone? No, I hope not

• have you ever done something you regret? Some things buit my philosophy of life tells me that everything comes with a reason, even bad decisions

CURRENT... ⬇️

• current clothes: white wife beater and marvel shorts

• current desktop picture: sylvester stallone collage

• current cd in CD player: janis joplin- cheap thrills

• current dvd in dvd player: i dont have a dvd player anymore

WHO'S THE LAST PERSON... ⬇️

• who's the last person you touched? My boyfriend

• who's the last person you hugged? My boyfriend

• who's the last person you kissed? My boyfriend ❤️

• who's the last person you talked to? My flatmate

• who's the last person you sexted with? I dont do sexting that's gotta be the cringest thing to do to me

ARE YOU... ⬇️

• are you understanding? Yes, maybe too much even

• are you open-minded? Yes I try to be as open minded as possible

• are you arrogant? No and I would hate myself if I was

• are you insecure? Too much

• are you random? What does this mean

• are you hungry? Most of the time

• are you intelligent? Im really not that smart

• are you moody? Unfortunately yes

• are you organised? Sometimes

• are you shy? I'm a little shy but mostly an introvert who likes to talk with people

• are you difficult? I hope not but I'm sure I kinda am

• are you bored easily? No

• are you entertained easily? Yes

• are you obsessive? Only when I fail to control myself

• are you angry? I repress my anger to the point I don't think I'm capable to feel it anymore

• are you happy? I'm trying

• are you hyper? No

• are you trustworthy? Yes, I suppose I am

RANDOM ⬇️

• in the morning: I have to have breakfast for at least an hour

• i dream about: happiness and satisfaction

• when i'm into someone, i first notice: expression and voice tone, eyes and demeanor

• turn ons? I dont talk about this shit

• turn offs? Impatience

WHO... ⬇️

• who makes you laugh the most? My boyfriend, my close friends

• who makes you smile the most? Also them

• who gives you butterflies when you see them? My boyfriend

DO YOU EVER... ⬇️

• do you ever stay up all night and wait for a specific person to contact you? Sometimes but I don't talk with a lot of people

• do you ever wish you were younger? No

• do you ever wish you were older? No

• do you ever cry when someone's rude to you? Yes lmao

NUMBER... ⬇️

• number of times i've had my heart broken: Two times I think

• number of cd's: 6

• number of scars on my body: I don't think I have any

• number of broken bones: None

• number of accidents you've been in: A car accident (but nothing bad happened except for emotional trauma)

BASIC... ⬇️

🍃 day or night? Day

🍃 introvert or extrovert? Introvert

🍃 cubed or crushed ice? Cubed?

🍃 comedy or drama? Both, I love dark comedy and grotesque the most

🍃 veggies or fruit? Both!!

🍃 ice cream or frozen yogurt? Ice cream

🍃 summer or spring? Summer

🍃 winter or fall? Fall

🍃 cookie butter or peanut butter? Peanut butter

🍃 pancakes or waffles? Waffles

🍃 hot tea or iced tea? Both

🍃 hot coffee or iced coffee? Hot coffee

🍃 smoothie or juice? Juice!!

🍃 comfort or adventure? I like both at the right times

🍃 Netflix or Hulu? I dont do this shit

🍃 online or in-store shopping? In store, unless we talk about second hand online stores I usually avoid buying from apps

🍃 left or right handed? Left handed

✨ Obsession: cinema, comic books, building my stories whether it's writing or drawing them, wrestling

✨ Any bad habits: smoking, skin picking, a little bit of an alcohol problem

✨ How many pets do you own: three dogs, two birdies and two big ass turtles

✨ One weird thing you do: I cannot control my language, so I end up swearing a lot without even realizing

✨ Do you like your name? Yes

✨ What color underwear are you currently wearing: White as always

✨ How many relationships have you been in? Only one serious one and I'm happy like this

✨ Ever been cheated on: No

✨ Do you believe in long distance relationships: Yes but I don't think I could do it

✨ Ever cheated: No

✨ How many people do you trust: A few but I trust them with my life

✨ How many kids would you want: I don't kmow, it's too early for that

✨ Someone you find attractive: My partner and Sylvester Stallone

✨ Ever been heart broken: Yes

✨ Ever broke a heart: I surely have in the past

✨ Why did your last relationship end: Never had a serious relationship so I dont remember

#Personal #Question game

[lesp1een]

UP of my commissions! I'm not really doing well economically wise, so any help would be really helpful ❤️

These are some examples of some commissions I did im the past in this style!

‼️HEADSHOT COMMISSIONS FOR 8USD‼️

Hi everyone! This period has been pretty busy and rough for me, and due to some economical issues I'm in need for some money so I decided to open some fast commissions for 8USD.

The drawing in the picture is an example of what the commission will be like: Lineart with colors and cell shading + a simple background of your choice

What I'm willing to draw: Fanart, portraits, ocs, animals, furries/anthros

Payment is in advance via paypal! You can contact me for any information.

#commissions #wwf #wwe #art commissions #illustration #digital art #my art #art #open commissions #oc #original character #fanart

[lesp1een]

I’m sharing this totally innocent clip with my Hartbreak people for ambiguous and harmless reasons

[lesp1een]

doodled them again🫶 posting for hbk 35th !!

[lesp1een]

My partner is doing commissions too! Go check him out ❤️

‼️READ, PLEASE‼️

Portrait commissions for only 6 dollars

I draw fanart, OC, yourself, almost anything. DM me if interested!!! Thank you!

#wwf #wwe #commission #art commissions

[lesp1een]

Kane! Commissioned by the kind @blowflyenby ❤️

#kane #wwe #wwf #90s wrestling #commission #art #illustration

[lesp1een]

‼️HEADSHOT COMMISSIONS FOR 8USD‼️

Hi everyone! This period has been pretty busy and rough for me, and due to some economical issues I'm in need for some money so I decided to open some fast commissions for 8USD.

The drawing in the picture is an example of what the commission will be like: Lineart with colors and cell shading + a simple background of your choice

What I'm willing to draw: Fanart, portraits, ocs, animals, furries/anthros

Payment is in advance via paypal! You can contact me for any information.

#wwf #wwe #commissions #art commissions #illustration #digital art #art #my art

[lesp1een]

Criminal record!

#wwf #wwe #shawn michaels #bret hart #wwe fanart #wrestling

[lesp1een]

Shared in a public post on FB three years ago, my FB memories just brought this up;

This guy was 67 years old when he started his transition. On the right he is pictured 3 years on T and just recently after his top surgery, so about 70 years old.

It is never, ever, too late for you. I suspect that's why he shared it the way he did, to show others not to be afraid, if he can do it as a senior citizen it's okay if you can't do it as a teen. Live. Survive. And whenever you're ready, chase your happiness. You deserve it.

[lesp1een]

So um, are you still doing the writing prompts? And if sooo, can I beg for you to do literally any of them for Bret/Shawn? Like #15? or #10? Or #22? I would die, thank you.

-thebostoncrab

Crash!

I'm too busy because of uni so it takes me so much time to write something, sorry for making you wait so much!

Prompt 15, "Are you going to stop me?", Bret/Shawn. Freely inspired by the movie Crash + the song is "American Pie" by Don McLean

CW: Nsfw (not explicit), mentions of death, drugs and blood

But I knew I was out of luck

The day the music died.

Foot pressing hard on the gas pedal, he was driving as fast as he wished time could pass. Fast enough he would be skipping the next two years to find his new self, his better self, the version of himself that still felt alive. 

Nothing better than a good old adrenaline rush to be breathing again. 

The cold wind wet his face with rain, stinking of wet tar and yet it was refreshing. 

Drunk on two bottles and a half of red wine, nose powdered enough he couldn't even feel the worrying smell of burned gasoline coming from the car, Shawn was born for the first time, emerging from the depths of the ocean to take his first breath. 

"Shawn! For God's sake, stop the fucking car!"

So bye bye, Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee

but the levee was dry. 

The stars that shone the brightest were already dead at a young age. Janis Joplin and Buddy Holly, Elvis and James Dean. 

He wanted to die in glory before he could become an empty shell of his former self. 

He could be the brightest star, but he had to die before time could catch him. 

Bret was snorting cocaine in the passenger seat, red with anger and on the verge of an heart attack and Shawn could only think of reaching that big fucking clock high in the sky, peeking down at him through the thick fog, and breaking his hands before another goddamn minute could pass. 

"You son of a bitch, you goddamn son of a bitch! I ain't gonna die with you here!" Bloodshot eyes screamed and trembling hands grabbed at his jacket. Fear and rage and cocaine ripped his hands off the steering wheel and they fought as hard as they made love. 

Them good ol' boys were

Drinking whiskey and rye

Singin' "This will be that I die, 

This will be the day that I die." 

"I ain't gonna die with you, motherfucker!" 

"Then try stoppin' me!" 

The car was violently sliding on the slippery road, and Shawn had blood in his nails from gripping Bret's face too hard to push him away. 

His body realized it wanted to live too late for him to stop, his foot smashing the car brake. However, it was pointless. 

"Watch out for the tree!" were Bret's last famous words, before he heard nothing but a hard crash and he felt his body slam hard on the seat, then slam harder on the windshield. Then he felt his senses slip through him, black dots filling his vision for a minute. 

The adrenaline washed off to leave place to the pain, to the burning smell of smoke filling the car. 

Shawn realized what happened, and tried to slip out of the suffocating pressure of the airbag smashing his ribs just to open the car door and crawl out on the ground. 

Each painful breath came out of his aching chest in a short grunt as he crawled up to him, the branches on the ground stabbing through his skin. He approached Bret on the other side, Shawn's body drenched in blood and covered with leaves, and he dragged him out of the vehicle with a strength his body didn't possess in that moment, pressing his body on the wet soil. 

It felt like it was trying to call them back to it, to consume them like the carcass of a rotting animal. 

They were roadkill waiting to be brought back to the earth, but their breathing lungs and their hot flesh were useless for the worms to feast on. 

The moon stared unrelenting at their bodies tangled on one another, and Shawn looked through red at the sickeningly pale man beneath him, covered in blood, broken glass shattered in his hair and piercing through his skin. 

Bret opened his eyes, his chest moving fast in short breaths. Before him was his killer, clinging onto him in relief for not losing him. 

"We should get out of here…" Shawn grabbed at Bret's shirt to feel his breathing chest more close to his own, his own voice rough with the smoke burning in his throat.

"... the car, it might explode…" 

Glass shattered hands grabbed at his face, slicing his cheeks deeply. 

The blood of one another smeared on each other's face as they kissed hard, feverishly hot from the adrenaline rush of being alive.

They grabbed to open wounds, to rip at each other's skin, to prove they were still there and they were still feeling. Rolling on the ground, rabid animals fighting and biting, screaming and crying, they took one another. Pants dropped to the knees, Shawn clung into him hard until orgasm washed out the pain, slowing it down, slowing down time until he was stuck dying in his lover's loins. 

#wwf #wwe #shawn michaels #bret hart #hartbreak #writing #wrestling #nsfw #requests

[lesp1een]

Anyone want just pure terrible romance Hartbreak love confessions? I'm sorry but I did.

A new city. A new hotel. Another night. Another city. Another door. Another year. Another, another, another.

Bret opens the door and it’s Shawn. It’s 2am and it’s Shawn. It’s 10pm and it’s Shawn. It’s 5am and he’s letting him in anyway. Bret stands in front of a hotel door he’s never seen before and it opens and Shawn is expecting him. How long have they done this? How many places?

“Here’s the key, just make sure no one sees you.”

How many times has it been the last time?

“We can’t keep doing this.”

"Shut up I want you."

“Now. Right now.”

“It has to stop.”

“Look- just this once, okay?”

“I don’t wanna see you with someone else.”

“I don't want to see you at all!”

But it’s finally over. 

Somewhere in a back alley are the shards of the beer bottle Shawn threw at him last week when Bret told him you couldn’t quit what you’d never started. Shawn claimed he’d had enough. He brought it up this time. Bret’s only giving him what he wants. As usual.

It’s 9 o'clock and the red eye flight he’s supposed to be on leaves in two hours. It’s an hour drive to the airport if the traffic is good. He’s sitting on the bed staring at the wall. He hasn’t even packed his bags. Someone is hammering at his hotel door. 

Another city, another hotel, another night. 

The same Shawn. Always Shawn. He looks both shocked and relieved when Bret opens up.

“Bret,” he says his name breathlessly, like he’s just run up ten flights of stairs. He fumbles into the room and latches onto the front of Bret’s shirt immediately. “I don’t want us to stop,” he blurts out. His eyes look rough and red, maybe he’s not sleeping, maybe he’s been crying. He looks into Bret’s face desperately for understanding, for agreement or forgiveness or pity, for Bret to admit he also thinks they fucked up. They fucked up, but bigger this time, like maybe it can’t be fixed anymore kind of bigger. He doesn’t seem to realize Bret’s already holding him in his arms. 

“Please, I don’t want to stop-” 

Shawn clings to him as the words come rushing out of his mouth uncontrollably. Bret’s seen Shawn beg, but not like this.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry I said that stuff and I’m - I  was wrong, I made the wrong choice, I was so scared and I didn’t know what to do and I- I don’t want you to leave me alone. I don’t want that. I just don’t want you to leave, I don’t want you to leave me. Bret, please- please Bret, please-” 

Bret holds the back of his neck, holds Shawn still in his hands.

“I’m not," he says.

He doesn’t know how he even would. Shawn is the one who’s going to run, he’s always known it…and yet here they are. Here is Shawn, begging him to keep him.

Shawn’s panicked eyes quickly scan the room, the lack of luggage stands out. The lack of any sign of exodus. “But…”

Bret’s thumbs brush his cheeks, as if brushing away the tears that are only still a shimmer in Shawn’s eyes. “I’m not stopping. I’m not going anywhere,” he says, his voice steady and warm. He’d hoped Shawn would have a change of heart, come running back to him, metaphorically, but he never thought it would happen literally. He thought he’d probably have to swallow his pride and go after Shawn before Shawn ever came back to him. “I shouldn’t have said what I said.” 

“You were right.”

Bret shakes his head. “No.”

Shawn is so warm, so alive in his arms, and nothing and no one else feels like this, he’s tried to pretend there could be someone else but it only ever ends up being a way to cope with not having Shawn. “No I wasn’t. I was just stupid. Just afraid to tell you the truth.”

Shawn tilts his head a little, his hair is a long mess of wind tangled strands. His jacket is hanging off one shoulder. He’s been in the rain, Bret realizes. He smells like rain and sweat and what’s probably hair spray or shampoo…did he chase a taxi to get here? Did he run? When he finally broke down and changed his mind?

It’s been three days since they ended their half a decade of trysts that they won’t call a relationship. Three days is nothing, and it’s also forever. 

When he sees that he's not alone in this, Shawn’s voice becomes soft, deep, and pleading, “Tell me…”

Bret honestly thought this was going to be harder, it was at one point, but he’s realizing now that the risk of admitting it is less punishing than what happens if he doesn’t tell Shawn the truth.

“Tell me…” Shawn whispers, closer this time, crystalline hope in his unblinking eyes. 

“I love you.”

Shawn kisses him, and it's just the way Bret imagined Shawn would kiss him if he ever ended up having the guts to confess. A pure fantasy. Shawn says, “I love you,” when he pulls his lips away an inch, and it sounds natural coming from him, as if this is all perfectly usual. Even if it was a lie Bret would still ask him to say it again. 

“Okay,” Bret says, giving Shawn a little smile as he says, “we can start here, if you want.”

Shawn nods emphatically, wanting Bret to know he wants this.

“Who am I kidding,” Bret says. “I began a long time ago.”

"Me too,” Shawn says.

[lesp1een]

Had to hop on the trend with B and S💗

[lesp1een]

17 or 20 for bret and shawn??? whichever you prefer

Hi! I'm really late to this one since I just started writing again after a bad writing block but here you go!

Angst writing prompts, number 20:

"You look like hell"

Content warnings: Mentions of addiction and body image issues

It was so very hard to get rid of the stench. 

He tried to open up his windows, letting in the breeze of that cold winter night to wash away every proof of his miserable habits out of the room. 

He had never experienced such a freezing winter before. It was cold enough to seep into his bones and leave him burning. And yet it felt almost refreshing, to feel the pain on his skin as he brought himself out in the balcony, hands moving by themselves into his jeans pockets to reach out for the almost empty pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

He bought those cigs when the sun was starting to disappear behind the harsh silhouettes of those buildings only places like New York City could manage to build so tall, they looked like they could break into the sky, and by the pitch black night the pack was almost empty. 

He was lucky that hotel was old enough not to have fire alarms installed, and by the look of it, many people had spent their stay smoking cigarettes to turn the once white wallpaper into a sickly yellow. 

It was nauseating. The smell, it was all over his clothes, the smoke so thick it covered his room in a sickening stenching haze. 

He was living in it; that fucking haze he couldn't get rid of, no matter how much he tried to scrub his shirts and pants with soap and water until the color was washing off of them, no matter how much he brushed his teeth, so hard it hurt, so rough it made his gums bleed. 

His teeth were rotting. 

Not that he could see it, but he felt it. Everytime he looked into the mirror, examining every single one of them, he didn't seem to find anything wrong. They were alright, maybe a little yellow, nothing a dentist appointment couldn't fix. 

Yet he felt it. Aggressively gritting and obsessively licking every tooth, he knew he was rotting. 

One time he was kissing this woman in a club. He wouldn't usually remember a lot of it, because kissing a woman in a club implied that he was drunk off his ass and maybe on something else too, but that night was still vivid in his mind, taking a place in his memory so high it almost shared a seat with the time he learned on the news that John Lennon was killed, which was pretty traumatizing, and the first kiss he shared with Bret Hart, which was even more traumatizing. 

This one, it was more miserable than anything else. He and this girl were having this sloppy, drunk makeout session, and it was going alright, maybe he could even shoot his shot at her and bring her to his hotel room. 

"Your breath is terrible" were the only words that left her mouth after that, looking at him and giggling like it was no big deal. It was a big fucking deal to him, and he was sure no man after a kiss would like to be graced with nothing else than another, more heated kiss. 

After that night, he sometimes still checked if it was true or not that his breath was bad. He couldn't tell, at the same time he didn't kiss anybody on the mouth after that to prove it wrong. 

Shawn only smoke Newports. The taste of fresh menthol would delude his own body that he wasn't poisoning himself. Unless he was out of them, at that point no beggar was more miserable than him, looking out on the ground for a half smoked cigarette.  

Out of the ring everybody knew he was a loser, and that snorting cocaine and smoking flavoured cigarettes instead of cutting heroin only made you a posher junkie, but still a junkie. 

New York never slept. At night it was more chaotic than ever, with her glowing lights and the invasive sound of the still busy road. It was during nighttime that the people more similar to him were around. They left their house at the same hour the rats came up from the sewers to invade the streets.

His friends were those kinds of rats, just like him, and he was sure they had already found a place to party and bang some women. Razor was shocked when Shawn refused to join them for that evening.

"Are you okay, man? You seem kinda pale, chico…" 

Shawn wasn't sure whether he really looked that sick, but he sure felt like it. He told the man he felt like he was catching a fever, that it was nothing he couldn't fix with some paracetamol and two hours of sleep. Razor was dismissed with a reassuring pat on the shoulder and told to have fun before Shawn could close the door behind his back and spend the rest of the evening not doing any of the things he told him he would do. 

There was something strange going on with his body. Everytime he tried checking for his temperature it was alright, yet he was always freezing cold, having to ask every hotel staff for extra blankets to be able to sleep without shivering like a little dog. 

He was somatizing his own misery so much even his body was trying to tell him to go fuck himself, that it would make him suffer for it, for he was unable to escape its fate of being bound to him. 

Just like all the people he tried to hook up with during the past, they all had some sly way to get rid of him without him even realizing it until they were gone. His body was doing the same, and Shawn was left to wonder if death would come to fuck him and leave him cold the same way his men did. 

It was freezing cold and he was still outside, his body betraying him by reaching into that pack of cigarettes until it was empty. A sudden rush of panic surged through him as he felt nothing under his touch, and suddenly, he was out in the streets, making his way along the sidewalks only to find some place to go buy a pack. 

He wouldn't smoke them, he promised himself, he only wanted to make sure he had some. That was all a bunch of bullshit, having to go out in the cold for a smoke, selling his ass and pawning all of his expensive watches for a pound of cocaine. 

Everybody there knew he was an addict, they loved to use his name to feel better about themselves, because they would never end up like that. They loved to bring up how much of a mess he was in every argument as much as Shawn hated to even let himself remember about it. 

He wouldn't usually give a damn about what everybody said behind his back, at least he knew he had his friends. They were the only people he could trust because they were just like him. He could recall all the times he and Razor were getting high on cocaine in some shitty club's bathroom, he could remember all the times Razor saved his ass from overdosing. 

"You almost died, man… You almost died. Fuck, don't scare me like that again, don't do it again." Razor was almost screaming in tears, and he had never seen him cry before. To reduce a man so strong like him to tears was Shawn, softly held in his friend's arms on the floor of a dirty bathroom stall, in the most miserable impression of Michelangelo's Pieta. 

He should have been grateful Razor was with him, yet as his pale skin regained its original color, the only thing he wished for was that he never cried for him again. 

He was scared of losing them, yet he couldn't stop doing stupid shit like going down the street in the middle of the night, walking around a district he didn't know, only to feed his own destruction. 

He eventually found an open drug store, and bought a pack of cigarettes before heading back to the hotel.

By the time he was in the building, shaking in his boots at how cold it was outside, he had already smoked two of them. 

He was sure the place was empty, because everybody had the habit of going out partying every night during their tour stops. It was an eerie feeling, to hear only his own steps echoing through the hall. 

He was sure he was alone until he was not. He hopped into the elevator, and as soon as the doors were closing, he saw the glass doors of the entryway open.

"Thanks." 

Shawn stopped the elevator from closing with his foot only to let Bret in.

"It's fucking cold outside"

After he was given no response, the man glanced in Shawn's direction with a confused frown. There was a moment of silence broken by the static sound of the elevator, during which the two of them simply stood next to each other. 

"Yeah, I'm not used to it." Shawn's voice came out deeper and rougher than usual, and he cleared his throat as he was not used to speaking, which would be untruthful. 

Shawn spoke, even too much, as somebody like Bret would say, so to hear him so avoidant of conversation was concerning. 

"Are you not?" 

"I live in fucking Texas, dude." 

"Right…" 

Bret almost sounded hurt by his passive aggressive responses, as if they liked each other. As if they were friends.

It was even more unnerving to see his scrutinizing gaze upon himself like he was trying to read his thoughts. He made sure to visualize a big middle finger for him to see before the silence was broken again. 

"You look like hell, Shawn." 

Bret's serious tone held the same amount of emotion as those pre-recorded speeches coming from automated phone lines. It was impossible to understand whether he was concerned or straight up insulting. 

He had a condescending aura about him, like he was the grown up and Shawn was only a spoiled child to shake his head upon. 

"Whatever. Go fuck yourself, man." His own growing frustration was alleviated by the sound of the elevator reaching their floor, and as soon as the doors opened, he dashed out of there as if he was escaping a potential threat. 

It wasn't like he was chickening out. He wasn't a coward, and above all that, he wasn't scared of Bret. 

However, he must not let anything slip out of him. He was aware of the way his gaze softened, he could feel his own weakening body. 

Bret didn't like him, that was for sure. He always made it clear, it didn't matter how much he tried to be nice or hold a conversation whenever they were alone. 

He saw him as a threat, only because Shawn was younger and slowly making his way to the top. Shawn was too arrogant for him, too cocky, too libertine, too carefree to stand for his respectable values. 

So carefree Shawn was, as he obsessively stared at his own reflection in the full body mirror, hard enough to feel those pale eyes piercing through him with disappointment.

To say he looked like hell was an overstatement. He didn't look that bad, didn't he? 

The sudden need to smoke guided him out on the balcony again, reaching for his pack of cigarettes to unwrap it from the plastic and open it. 

Looking out, the only other room with the lights on was two balconies far from him. It almost seemed like he and Bret were the only ones populating that place, and suddenly he wondered if Bret always came back to his room so soon. He couldn't know, usually at that time he would be in the club with his kliq. 

Sometimes he liked to imagine the lives of the people living inside those lit windows. Perhaps a lot of them were having sex, or watching tv, or reading a book. He was sure more than half of that district was having sex at that moment. Bret wasn't having sex for sure. The man was married, and he was surely loyal to his wife, which was rare for people such as them who traveled all the time, because he didn't show any interest in any woman. 

He didn't have time to fully register how weird it was to think about his co-workers sex life, for his attention was caught by the reflection of Bret in the open window and he saw him come out on his balcony too, only some feet away from him. 

They didn't share any glance to know about each other's presence, and it was so dumb of him to think of that as something close to intimate, by the way they lit their cigarettes at the same time.

The fresh menthol sunk into his throat at each draw and he was silent, his eyes glued on the sky in front of him to avoid any chance of the other thinking he cared about him being there too. 

Shawn didn't even know Bret smoked, but that was only one of the many things Shawn didn't know about him. 

It was true that he avoided the man, yet he felt the sudden need to not be alone, sitting in his room all night in utter silence like a loser. His friends were out partying and having fun and he was there, having a depressive episode and craving some kind of interaction with someone he didn't have anything to share with but mutual dislike. 

"You smoke?" He made sure to raise his voice to let the other hear, but his words were completely ignored by Bret, who simply stood there, far from him, looking out with his arms crossed on the banister.

A rush of irritation surged through his body at the scenario of the man ignoring him on purpose, until he saw him pull out a tape player attached to his pyjama pants and remove his earphones.

"Are you talking to me?" His voice was loud and clear, and Shawn was relieved. He hated it so much that he was relieved. It made it clear how lonely he was, it showed Bret how weak and pathetic he was to seek his attention. 

"No, why?" 

"Nothing. I thought I heard something."

An usual awkward silence came after that, the wind bringing to Shawn's nose the familiar smell of weed. 

"Is that a joint?" 

"Yeah."

"What?"

"I said I smoke it to sleep!" Bret raised his voice, turning his whole body towards Shawn as if it would help to hear him better. 

"What?!" At that point Shawn was only fucking with him, finding that situation so funny he mocked the other by leaning over the balcony and grabbing the iron rail with his hands, screaming like they were talking from miles away just like Bret did. 

Doing that, his half smoked cigarette slipped from his fingers, falling down on the ground and disappearing in the distance. "Motherfucker!" He tried to catch it without any success, looking down with horror as if he had just witnessed the fall of a person.

That made Bret laugh apparently, he heard him as he raised his head towards him and somehow saw in the distance that stupid smile. 

"What are you laughing at? I spent thirteen dollars on those motherfuckers!" 

"You're so fucking dumb, goddammit." And he laughed again, louder, something that was unusual coming from Bret and was probably only happening because he was high off his ass. It didn't really matter why it was, because Shawn found himself smiling at him after telling him to shut his mouth. 

"By the way, didn't mama teach you that sharing is caring?" 

Shawn didn't expect for Bret to actually invite him in his room to smoke weed together until he found himself sitting on a bed that was not his own, sharing the fattest joint he ever smoked in his whole life with Bret Hart. That was without a doubt a strange outcoming for that night, to laugh at some stupid story the other man was telling him. 

The tv was on the MTV channel, showing some random late night R Rated cartoon, and besides the little lamp on the nightstand, it was the only source of lighting in the room.

Bret told him this story he didn't understand anything about because he was too high and Shawn laughed only because Bret was laughing too.

"So there was this time… I was in a foreign country, hanging out in this club and shit… and I told the guy that was with me to go tell a girl I thought she was hot  because I didn't speak their language-" Shawn took a hit from the joint before passing it to Bret, with his head rested on his own arm, and he listened. 

"Later I found out that he told her that I was his, that he already put his eyes on me and stuff like that… I was like man that was kinda flattering but I don't swing that way…" 

"He was sure into you" His slurred answer was followed by a weaker laugh than the other, as he tried to mask his own discomfort at those last words behind the excuse of tiredness. Of course Bret wasn't a homosexual, it had been years since their first and only kiss. They were drunk and didn't know better, and Marty had probably put something else in their drinks too. 

Not that it was a good kiss. As a matter of fact it was sloppy and disgusting and they both regretted it when they sobered up, but that didn't take away from the fact that there was a time when Shawn was sure he was in love with Bret Hart. 

Because he was beautiful and talented and he was everything Shawn aspired to be. 

Shawn still thought that Bret was good-looking, but he never really did anything about it except from acknowledging that Bret never really liked him and that he was, in fact, married to a woman.

All those thoughts were cut off when the topic of the conversation changed and they continued to endlessly talk about everything and nothing at all, until Shawn was so thirsty he emptied half a water bottle.

He had just finished telling Bret about that time Diesel saved him from being arrested, and he was watching the man roll another joint with half lidded eyes. He felt cotton in his mouth and his head was spinning a bit, and he was now so close to the other he laid with his head on the pillow next to his body. Bret was sitting with his head on the bedpost, so to be able to see his face, Shawn had to look up. 

He lit up the joint and passed it to the blonde to take a hit. 

"Speaking of Diesel, why aren't you out with him and the others tonight?" 

It took some time for Shawn to answer, only because everything was going so well and he didn't want to spoil the mood. Bret didn't need to know about his misery and how messed up he was in the head. He laid there smoking in silence for a good minute, his eyes glued on the ceiling.

"I don't know… I've been feeling like shit lately and I wanted to be alone." 

Bret took the joint from his fingers, and Shawn looked up at him only to meet his reddened brown eyes staring back from above. 

He was laying there, on Bret's bed, getting looked at, and perhaps he was too high to really register things the way they were but he was sure there was something close to intimacy in that gaze. 

Perhaps too much intimacy. 

"So you came into my room to smoke weed…" The irony of it all made both of them smile at each other, and Shawn shook his head, rolling his eyes up on the white ceiling again, for it was easier to speak deeper words without feeling those eyes on his. 

"I didn't want to be alone alone, I just didn't want to go to a club. Lately they've been going to strip clubs only because they're horny and looking for some chick to bang and honestly… I don't wanna bang any chick."

"That's news." 

"Oh, fuck you. Besides that, last time I hit on a girl she told me my breath stank and laughed at me and…" It was indeed childish to fuss over stupid stuff like that. But he was high on weed and every slight change of humor affected him worse than it should, so he felt tears in his eyes that could easily be mistaken for irritation from the smoke that filled the room. "... As you said, I look like hell."

That was probably the deepest conversation he ever had with Bret, and after a moment of silence, he heard him sigh deeply. 

"Shawn… I meant that you looked like you were about to cry. I don't think you look ugly or that your breath stinks, you just look sad." 

Shawn was miserable, he was a loser, he was pathetic, but he never thought of himself as sad. 

Sad was a new word to him to describe himself with, and somehow it was a better word. It implied that maybe that was all a temporary thing, and he was sad, but if he was sad, he could be happy too. 

He breathed deeply until that heaviness in his chest dissipated, so he would be able to talk without bursting into tears like a kid. 

Like a child he felt. A child who busts his knee and cries, a child who desperately cries into his mother's arms. And she comforts him, she tells him it's gonna get better soon. She tells him the pain is temporary, and that his knee will heal. 

She will kiss the pain away. 

By the time he opened his eyes again, they were dry of any tears. 

"So you don't think that my breath stinks?" 

He was able to joke about it, only to earn a little slap on his head and chuckle about it. 

"You're a child." 

"No, seriously… Does my breath smell bad?" 

"How the fuck would I know?" Bret shrugged as if it was nothing important, leaving Shawn wondering if he left him disgusted as much as that girl was, when they kissed each other. 

He would have told him. Shawn was sure he would have told him, if he had a bad breath. Bret never missed the opportunity to remind him how impossible it would be for Shawn to even try to reach his level. 

He never smelt bad, he never had that stench morbidly attached to his core, as a matter of fact Bret was a stable man. With a nice breath and a family waiting for him at home. His fingers were not turning yellow, and his teeth weren't rotting.

Such a good example of a man reduced to being compared to a messy thing like him. To have to work with him everyday, to see Shawn reach his same heights of success, to stand next to him everyday, next to a man who represented everything a role model like him should condemn. 

No wonder why Bret didn't like him all that much. It was strange enough to even see him smoke weed knowing how much shit they got for that from their boss. 

"Come and smell it then." Shawn teased. He smoked that joint until there was nothing left but the filter, and passed it to Bret to throw it away.

"I'm not smelling your breath." 

"Why not?" 

"Because that's fucking disgusting" 

"Oh, come on, you're a pussy!" 

Shawn elbowed him in the guts with enough force to initiate a slightly painful play fighting, which resulted in Shawn trying to breath in his face and Bret pushing him away with his hand on his face. 

"I'm gonna beat your ass for real if you don't stop!" He had him in a chokehold, his eyes so dark he could see his own face staring back. As it usually happened between them, things escalated quickly. No matter how high he was, Bret was still Bret, and Shawn could feel the thin thread of his patience rapidly break down by the growing strength he used to hold him away, like he was ready to put to use some of his old man's teachings.

His reaction was to roughly pull himself out of his grip and back away from Bret like he was avoiding the incoming bite of an angry dog. "C'mon, I was fucking with you."

"Yeah, don't do it again." They were in front of each other now, Shawn busy massaging his own aching jaw as they stared at each other in bewilderment. Bret was pissed off, he sure was for a little, but his gaze slowly softened as he calmed down, and they both laughed. Hearing Bret laugh did some things to him, and even though they were good, the tension in the room did not dissipate, and the relaxation of moments before had disappeared by the time Shawn had put his hands on him. 

He had tried all night to not think about it. About him and the way he was still so breathtakingly beautiful in his eyes. He had never seen him that relaxed, let alone speak and smile that much to him. 

Bret seldom smiled when he was around him. He made it very clear when he didn't like someone, even if he was always trying to be nice or hold pointless conversations. 

Maybe it was better off like that. To be treated like nothing but a co-worker, not even one he would share a beer with. 

Because, as he was sitting in front of him, he couldn't think about anything but those lips. Smiling, and pointing right at him. No matter how bad their first kiss was, he was still attracted to him to the point it was dangerous, because he knew Bret could tell. He could tell by the way he slowly let himself closer to him, only to feel the ghost of his warmth. It was pointless to turn his gaze away from him, and so they remained staring at each other in silence. He knew Bret could tell, for there was no wonder in his eyes, as he let go a sigh of resignation. 

"No, Shawn…" It almost sounded like yielding, the way he spoke softly, not even trying to repel Shawn from making his way up to sit on his legs. 

He was surrendering himself to him, and Shawn could tell what his desires were by the slight opening of his lips. So he swore on those lips, so close he could almost taste them as he spoke.

"It's gonna be good this time. I swear it's gonna be better." 

#wwf #wwe #shawn michaels #bret hart #writing #requests #hartbreak

[lesp1een]

#He looks so babygirl #Undertaker

[lesp1een]

Loving the curly hair growing back. 

Rare shot here without the hat! I know people make nasty comments about the hair loss, but to me, he will always look great. If we are lucky, we all age. Too many wrestlers don’t. Seeing wrestler’s older is something to celebrate rather than snark about!

💔✖️💔✖️💔