Bee, I'm taking a shot in the dark here and I know it's probably annoying but I'm dying for even a taste. Can you just jot down even the smallest hint of an imagine with Shawn? Doesn't have to be smut. Maybe just leading to a kiss with an older woman who maybe works for him? Like The Assistant reimagined. You hate me I know but help a desperate girl out...
Ugh fuck it. I’m weak and bored and have had a shit time writing anything lately so why not use it as a damn writing exercise.
BEFORE ANY OF Y’ALL START! I am NOT starting a fic. I am NOT taking requests. I am NOT going into the Shawn Fic black hole. Maybe on occasion if I so feel, I will shoot out blurbs just for fun but it will not be a series, fic or anything like that.
SO whatever, here’s a blurb. It’s not smutty so don’t get too excited and I don’t even know if I love it but TAKE IT OT OF MY HANDS.
“What about this one?” Liv held up the seventh shirt she’d plucked from the rack in front of her but was still getting ignored. “Shawn,” she said his name dead toned, wagging the shirt on the tip of her finger. “Shawn,” she repeated, resorting to grabbing an empty hanger and hitting him on the shoulder with it.
“Ow! What?” He raised his shoulder and looked at her, finally breaking from his conversation with three of his crew members.
“The shirt. Yes?”
“Whatever,” he shrugged and went back to his conversation leaving Liv to drop her arm at her side and lean her forehead forward on the rack in front of her in defeat. She’d worked this job for two months already and it wasn’t getting any easier. She had to dress him. That’s it. Seemed easy enough. Not when the client was eighteen and completely disinterested in fashion. She tried to get him to express any kind of enthusiasm over a piece before she put it on him but it was a moot point.