#Shawn: for the last time. I’m not. psychic.

[dragonpyre]

Psych au where Shawn Spencer comes clean at the end of the pilot like “haha that was fun. But seriously guys I’m just good at spotting things. I’m not actually psychic” but no one believes him.

[theficpusher]

Chasing Feelings by Neondiamond | M | 20029 When homicide detective Louis Tomlinson first gets assigned to work with detective Harry Styles, the newest addition to the Doncaster police station, on the biggest case of his career, he’s less than enthused about it. There’s a serial killer on the loose, and Louis has no time to waste working with a newbie, despite how attracted his inner Alpha may be to Harry’s sweet scent. Along the way, he finds he may have been too quick to judge the Omega.

Into This Mess by crimsontheory | E | 20561 The first day of Louis’ promotion is going well, far better than he expected. That is until his new partner shows up, who just so happens to be the guy who stumbled half-dressed out of his flat that same morning. Or the enemies to lovers detective AU.

a long way down (to the bottom of the river) by MediaWhore | M | 24184 “Most people would call Harry silly for believing in curses. Childish would also be a probable insult thrown his way. In their little town full of little people, Harry’s whimsical nature and beliefs mean that he’s subjected to frequent judgemental looks and whispers. It doesn’t usually bother him. Most people don’t know about the magic thrumming through his veins or about how powerful words can truly be. Most people don’t carry around their ancestors grief like a burden. They don’t have to pay for deeds hundreds of years old like Harry and his family have. They get to love freely without fear. Harry and his kin aren’t so lucky.” a practical magic au in which Harry and his sister accidentally kill her abusive boyfriend with magic and Louis is the D.I working the case.

A Study in Love by Rearviewdreamer | M | 24307 Louis knows everything about everyone which has put him at a great and weird advantage over nearly all of them since the very beginning. He can solve any puzzle before most people know where to begin. He is rarely perplexed, mistaken, or wrong, and obviously, Louis is never ever surprised. And yet, his new flatmate after a very long string of failed ones has Louis questioning how he ever did any of it without him.

Catching a Partner by berzerkshires | M | 24936 This documentary follows the story of two people who fell in love in the last place you'd expect. Louis is a detective at the Boston Police Department investigating a trail of recent murders. Harry is the latest victim who survived an attempted murder and is sent to live at a safe house with Detective Tomlinson as the killer is still at large. This is their story.

i've heard it both ways by vintagehistories | E | 26331 “I, uh.” Harry is scrambling, trying to think of something believable on the spot. He remembers the woman from reception and her phone call and says the only thing he can think of. “I’m a psychic.” Everyone stills. Zayn laughs, Detective Edwards looks confused, and the officer holding the door open looks mildly frightened. “A psychic?” Zayn gets out between his laughs. “I’ve heard it all. You’re definitely spending the night in the holding cell now. You’re wasting all of our time here.” an au based on the tv show psych where harry is shawn, louis is jules, liam is gus, niall is mcnabb, and zayn is lassie.

When Darkness Strikes by he_wants_to_write | E | 58766 Private Investigator Harry Styles is called to help solve a brutal homicide case in a small town by the North of England. There, he stumbles upon Detective Louis Tomlinson, and although their personalities crash and dark mysteries haunt their circumstances, the pair does have one thing in common; the will to catch the responsible behind the murder. Or, the suspenseful, thrilling Enemies to Lovers that evolves more than romance and slow burn.

technicolor by creamcoffeelou | E | 81386 When the small town of Twin Lakes begins experiencing a string of serial murders, a team of detectives is called in to help. Louis is the head of the team and meets a hard-headed psychic who everyone else seems to believe is the one who will solve the case. Louis isn't so sure. OR The slow-burn, hate-to-love, crime au where Harry is a psychic, Louis is a detective, and the world is against them.

Where you'd rather be by Itsmotivatingcara | M | 103456 Louis runs the best Canine Search and Rescue school in Augusta, Maine, one that trains dogs to track missing persons. He lives an idyllic life on Togus Pond where he's built his career from the ground up. He has everything he could ever want, a beautiful home, friends he adores and a dog that aids his students in their training. Romantic entanglements have never been high up on his list of priorities. That is, until he stumbles across a body in the woods. A woman was brutally murdered and dumped on his doorstep. It doesn't help that the Detective on the case happens to be devilishly handsome and just the right amount of broody. Detective Harry styles has a murder to solve, he's just gotten out of a long-term relationship and he's certainly not looking for another. Regardless of whether the man who run's the SAR unit's blue eyes sparkle with promise and a sense of belonging. Something he may or may not have been searching for all his life. Or Detective - Search and Rescue AU

[crazyk-imagine]

Stealing is Not the Answer, but It Could Be

Pairing: Shawn Spencer x Detective!reader

Characters: Shawn Spencer, Detective!reader, Burton "Gus" Guster, Chief Vicks, Carlton Lassiter, Buzz McNab

Warnings: Fluff, humor, Shawn being Shawn, Gus and reade being besties, Shawn trying to use his Shawn psych, Shawn trying to steal something, reader putting Shawn in his place, Shawn and Gus doing shenanigans

Word Count: 615

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

You walk into the department, aiming for chief Vicks office when you hear an alarming statement from your favorite chaotic duo.

“Sometimes I think it would be easier to steal something than ask for it,” Shawn blurts out.

You owlishly blink, wondering if you heard that correctly.

“That is both frightening and alarming, Shawn.”

He turns to face you, putting on an innocent face. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to disagree.”

You look over his head to see what his buddy’s expression is. “Gus?”

He nods, gesturing to you. “I’m with her.”

“What? Gus? Aw, come on.”

He shakes his head, “I am not agreeing with you on stealing. Last time I agreed with you, we wound up in jail.”

“That was here though!”

He turns towards Shawn, “Lassie kept us there for five hours.”

“Yes, but then Buzz let us out.”

Gus shakes his head, “no, I’m not going back in there.” He stands up, whispering in your ear, “I almost had to pee in front of the other people locked up. You know how I feel about that.”

You nod, patting his shoulder to comfort him. “I know, Gus. I know.”

“Well, this has been nice.” Shawn tries to slip past you, “I’ll be off now.”

You shake your head. “Not so fast.” You hook your arm in his and pull him back. “Where do you think you’re going with the chief's favorite figurine?”

He yanks his arm from you, “how dare you! How could you even- okay, that was a little dramatic even for me but look at it.” He presses his face against the fish figurine. “It’s so cute.”

You shake your head, “put it back.”

“Fine,” he sighs. “It was just a harmless little prank."

“Harmless or not, you tried to steal in a police station, how smart is that?”

“You tell him.”

“Can it, Gus.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Shawn snorts, “ma’am? What are in the 1950’s and you're the little harmless housewife?”

“No, it’s called I have respect for those who are in a higher power than me.”

You smile at him, “thank you, Gus.”

The doors open.

“Anything I can help you three with?”

“Actually-”

You cut the psychic off and grab his arm. “Nope, thanks, chief. Keep being awesome.”

You sit him down at his dad’s desk and stand in front of him, holding a pen and a piece of paper. “Now make with your chicken scratch and write, stealing is not the answer fifty times.”

He opens his mouth to whine.

“Whine and I’ll add twenty-five.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You smile, patting his shoulders, “attaboy.”

Gus covers his mouth to hide his amusement.

“Come on, Gus. Let’s go make like Shawn’s humor and scram.”

-

“Hey! Where are you two going?”

“To get some jerk chicken and a pineapple smoothie.”

“I want to come!”

“No!”

“That sounds amazing,” the pharmaceutical rep adds.

“I know right.” You close the door only to be hit with a breeze before the car shakes.

“Here. Now let’s go.”

You grab the paper. “Wow, you already, did it?”

You look in the left corner, “wait- nineteen- this is from when we were fourteen.”

“You never specified when I had to write it.”

“Shawn that’s not- that’s actually really good, you got me.”

He lets out a victory chuckle. “See, Gus. I told you; it would work.”

You gasp, “how dare you. Gus, I thought we were besties.”

“Uh- you see the thing is-”

You shake your head, “no. I’ve been betrayed enough.”

You lean against your arm, watching the world go by as he drives, unable to hide your smile as Shawn tries to bug you and tell you it was all him.  

-

Tag list

@kmc1989

[aba-daba-dooo]

I'm super interested ( in the middle of a psych rewatch) by what you mean when you say Shawn is actually psychic- could you expand?

I just think he is. Obviously this is not canon, but I’d like it to be (hence I’m writing a whole fic about it). And yes, I know it’s all debatable— just let me have this!!!!

So my reasoning is this:

1. Eidetic memory does not work that way. (I know this is fiction and the rules don’t apply but bear with me.) Usually someone can remember things for a few days max, but Shawn is out here with vivid, interactive memories of childhood. It’s whack. He should not be able to do that.

2. While hyper observant, his skills go far beyond “good at noticing stuff”. Like he can clearly read papers that are several feet away or notice stuff that is exceedingly far away or even hidden.

3. His gut instincts are WILD. I point this out in my fic, but Shawn can be in a crime scene for only a few minutes and find the most important clue. Like he’s so easily drawn to certain things even if they are seemingly unimportant at the beginning of a case. And the way he can just readily put details together and weave narratives with little evidence? My man is not out here making educated guesses, it’s the spirits I swear.

4. He at least has a telepathic mind link with Gus. Their souls are connected and can totally read each other’s minds.

5. Ok ok, hear me out. In the first movie he has a dream about Mary Lightly and they sing Allison Road. THAT RIGHT THERE is so weird. It doesn’t happen at other time in the show where Shawn randomly dreams the answer to a problem like that (I’ll give The Polarizing Express a partial exception, though he is just hearing the TV) and he doesn’t even put it together until the last possible minute. I 100% think that he can talk to the dead. Like maybe he doesn’t know it? But he can and there really are spirits telling him what to do.

6. He is the world’s smartest dumb person and would simply not be aware he is a psychic.

Anyway, I go over all of this in my fic. It’s just one big rationalization.

[obsidiancreates]

Never Good Enough

(Hey so that concept I posted where some kinda neurotoxin leaves Shawn unable to mask his depression anymore? Well I wrote a small segment of what that'd be like. IDK if I'll ever do a full fic so have this for now.)

“Looking at you is like looking at everything I was supposed to be, man. Head detective, follows the rules, can rattle off procedure in your sleep, when I look at you it’s like looking my Dad’s dreams for me in the face. And then you weren’t good enough for him either. You’re exactly who I should have been if I didn’t screw everything up and take everyone down with me, and you still weren’t good enough for him. And I had to realize, it doesn’t matter, it never would have mattered. I could’ve done… everything. Everything, exactly like he wanted me to, for my whole life, down to the letter, and I still… wouldn’t be good enough.” Shawn stares out the windshield, just… still. Tense. Numb.

No-one else in the car knows what to say.

“So what does it matter, man? I’m psychic, I’m not psychic, who cares. You’re what I should’ve been and couldn’t be, I’m what you shouldn’t ever be and get results you should be able to. We’re just- we’re opposites, man. But somehow we’re still friends, and I don’t even know how. I don’t know how anyone puts up with my crap enough to stick around, but I really don’t know how you do. Yeah, you say you hate me, but you don’t. I know that even if you don’t back up my theories or believe in my abilities, I can always rely on you. I know you’ll bust in at the last second before I get shot, and I know that no matter what stupid situation I get myself into you’ll end up there somehow to make sure I get out alive and mostly unharmed.”

Shawn thunks his head against his window. “Just like I know Jules will always back me up when it really matters, when I really need her to. And like I’ve known my whole life that no matter what… stupid, selfish moves I make, Gus will always be right next to me. Even when I don’t deserve to have him there. … Especially when I don’t. I never have.”

“I don’t deserve any of what I have. I’m just… dragging everyone along with my stupid games, like I’ve always done. And no matter how many cases I solve, how much I do right, I’ll never… be good enough. For any of it to make up for… me.”

“... Shawn, why do you think that?” Jule’s voice is quiet, but shattering, the silent tension in the car like glass and her words a sledgehammer thrown from a balcony.

Shawn just shrugs. Stares out the window. “The worst part is I know all of it. Still do it.”

“... You know, Spencer… Sh-Shawn. I’m… glad, that you know you can rely on me. Even if you use it as a crutch sometimes.” Lassiter can feel the ‘not the time’ glare from his partner in the backseat, but he ignores it and keeps going. “And I want you to know that I… enjoy knowing I can rely on you in turn. Maybe not to back me up, we don’t have that… dynamic. But I always know you’ll find the truth of whatever we’re working on, even if it makes you look like an idiot as well as me.”

“I just like showing off,” Shawn mumbles. 

“Well… there’s worse ways to do that than solving unsolvable cases.”

“... Sure. Whatever.”

Lassiter shares a look with Gus and Jules through the mirror. He sees equal amounts confusion and heartbreak in both of their eyes. He wishes he could say there was no trace of either in his own, but he knows that’s a lie.

“... I don’t, hate you,” Lassiter begrudgingly admits. He wants it to make Shawn smirk, brag, sing a stupid song about being right.

Shawn barely reacts. “I know,” he mumbles. “... I don’t know why, though.”

[princessfbi]

okey so i need some tv recs for this hiatus 911 fan overall procedure fans i guess that's all the vibe i can think of to ask lol so hit me with your recs

EXCELLENT! So glad you’ve come to me Nonnie. I am honored. This is in no particular order but in terms of general procedurals with similar 911 vibes I’ve got a couple:

1. Sirens

It’s about a paramedic team in Chicago and it’s fucking hilarious. We're talking laugh out loud can still quote it from memory hilarious. There’s two seasons and each episode is about 25 minutes so it’s easy to get through. There is a British counterpart that is also funny but it’s definitely a different tone for sure.

**If you were a fan of Arrow then you'll recognize Josh Segarra

***Also you can scream with me and @lucydonato about the show

2. ER

I always describe 911 to people as ER for first responders. Part of that is because it’s so episodic. It gets really melodramatic at times and there are a LOT of story lines but for the most part the general stakes keep to one episode at a time and the show gives you permission to let things go which is nice. I’m a fan of the earlier seasons as opposed to the later seasons but Angela Bassett is in the last season. Lots of great guest spots and very character driven.

**Characters do die in this show so be aware of MCD warnings. No one is safe in that show. Except maybe Noah Wylie but that's cus it's Noah Wylie.

3. Numb3rs

It’s an awesome crime procedural with a twist on it. The oldest brother, Don, is an FBI agent who has his baby brother, Charlie, help him solve crime using math. This show has all the tropes too. Brother relationship, found family, etc etc.

4. Psych

It’s a procedural with a much lighter tone. Shawn pretends to be psychic and solves crime. It’s chaotic and messy and wonderful and perfect.

**Gives me coming home from the pool and vegging on the couch summer vibes.

5. Castle

On the same side of the coin, it’s another procedural with a twist. Castle is a successful mystery novelist who helps solve crime. Nathan Fillion for those fans of The Rookie and there's a lot powerful female characters in it.

6. Murder, She Wrote

MSW walked so that Castle could run. This is an oldie but a good. Angela Lansbury is a mystery writer who solves crime. It’s super cool knowing that she insisted on hiring a lot of older guest stars so that they could continue to be in the union and get their benefits. Also omg the 80s/90s wardrobe. There's also a couple of episodes with other detectives and crime solvers when Angela started to get tired carrying the weight of quality television on her shoulders.

7. Drop Dead Diva

THIS is such a good law procedural. It has the added bonus as having the same casting director as 911 so you’ll see a lot of familiar faces. But Deb is a model who died and got reincarnated in the body of a plus size lawyer named Jane and it’s the most wonderful little nugget that just existed in its own space. It was SO ahead of it's time on certain issues and it deals with a variety of topics such as body shaming, slut shaming, mental health, etc in such a kind and compassionate and positive way.

**Gives me late summer 'I haven't moved from the couch and omg it's season three' vibes

8. Scorpion

A team of geniuses (with neurodivergent representation in action genre scenarios) who help solve crime and crisis situations for homeland security. Lots of found family feelings! SO MANY! Big time character driven show.

9. White Collar

A white collar criminal agrees to help solve crime with the FBI agent who arrested him. Neal is so whumpable and it's one of the few times I've seen a fandom really embrace the idea of a poly relationship in fanon? Idk I wasn't really in it but the fics I saw all seemed to agree that no one would complain if Peter, Neal, and Elizabeth all lived happily ever after with their golden retriever. NOW, I will say this is a Jeff Eastin show and he has a tendency to take the amazing female characters in the show, throw them in a blender, and then bring them back as Frankenstein's monster bride and act like he didn't just ruin their character and it drives me fucking insane. BUT those first couple of seasons are fantastic.

Ask Me for TV Recs To Get You Through Hiatus

[itookashotinthedark]

Psych Fanfic: Immersion Therapy

Juliet is still reeling from Shawn’s betrayal. It’s been weeks since their breakup, and just as she’s trying to pick up the pieces, a dangerous criminal from Shawn’s past escapes prison. Juliet is suddenly forced to confront old wounds and work with the man who broke her heart.

As Shawn grapples with resurfacing trauma from the case that had him shot and kidnapped, he’s determined to prove himself to Juliet once more—even if it means reliving the worst moments of his life.

Shawn whump and Shules! Post Shawn Takes a Shot in the Dark (STASITD) and Deez Nups.

Read on Ao3 or FFic.

Juliet picked up her mug with both hands, taking a moment to let the warmth seep through her palms. She sat down in her office chair and breathed in deep, the pleasant scent of coffee relaxing her instantly as she tuned out the hustle and bustle of the station around her. Not that the relaxation would last long. Since Lassiter’s wedding two weeks ago, she hadn’t felt calm—just anger and a chest-aching sadness.

Shawn had finally stopped calling. He wasn’t popping by her apartment anymore or showing up at the station. Still, every time someone walked into the station, she found herself scanning for tousled brown hair and familiar hazel eyes, unsure if the knot in her stomach came from dreading his presence—or hoping for it.

She scowled and took a sip of her coffee. It certainly wasn’t because she wanted to see him. He was a liar. More than that, Shawn Spencer, ‘psychic’ detective, had completely, irrevocably shattered her heart. The only decent thing he’d done was stop reaching out when she’d demanded space. If he’d ever cared, he’d give her that much.

Juliet grimaced, recalling the despair on his face when she’d screamed at him, cutting off his attempts at an explanation.

“I don’t want to know!” she’d screamed, even putting her hands over her ears like a child. “I don’t want to know how you lied and tricked and manipulated everyone into thinking you're psychic. I don’t care!” He’d shrunk back as she’d stepped forward, her entire body trembling. “I want you to leave me the hell alone and give me some damn space!”

“Okay, Jules,” had been his whispered response and he’d walked out of her apartment, the backpack he’d stuffed his clothes and toothbrush into slung over his shoulder. 

At least he’d kept his word on that. She hadn’t seen or heard from him since.

The clearing of a throat behind her made Juliet jump and nearly spill her coffee. Juliet swiveled in her chair.

“Detective O’Hara.”

“Chief.” Juliet felt her cheeks burn, realizing that she’d been at the station an hour and hadn’t so much as logged into her computer.

Chief Vick’s lips pressed into a thin line as she scanned Juliet up and down. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

Juliet’s heart pounded. Shawn.

...

Continue reading on Ao3 or FFic!

[typicalopposite]

W.I.P Wednesday

Thank you so so much to @onthewaytosomewhere and @luainthewild for the tags and I can not describe how much I CAN NOT wait to reads y’all’s stories! 💕💕 (updated to add @hgejfmw-hgejhsf since I already had posted 😂💕)

It is true @onthewaytosomewhere that I have swayed from the FirstPrince path lately and been dabbling in Psych 👀 BUT imma cheat the system a little and post two snippets! If for no other reason than to keep the rwrb fire burning in the background while I work through this new fic! :)

So without further ado here’s a snippet from the untitled Psych fic

“Ehh? See?” Juliet’s smile brightens her whole face; it’s her cheeky ‘I was right’ smile she often uses against Shawn, Lassiter, and well… everyone. She looks past Gus across the hall and mouths I told you at McNabb, who is also standing hidden behind a column. He looks doubtfully over at them and then looks back towards Lassiter’s desk. Gus and Juliet follow suit just in time to see Shawn lean in closer, turning his head towards Lassiter’s face. “Holy crap,” Juliet whispers, leaning more against Gus to get a better look. Gus would have mentioned she was starting to tip him off balance; however he is way too focused on the fact it looks like his best friend is about to plant a kiss on a Lassiter’s cheek. Lassiter, who Gus is certain hates said best friend… because he says so on a near daily basis. Lassiter, who Gus is certain would have Shawn put under the jail if he ever found out Shawn really wasn’t psychic… because he says so on a near daily basis. Lassiter… who is smiling this crooked, goofy (in a way he’s never seen before) smile at Shawn, as the younger man continues to lean in towards him, saying something inaudible as he moves.

And because I just love FirstPrince too much to not post for them too I’m gonna pull something from my FirstPrince but make them dads Fic Baby Mine.

“HmmMmmMmmmMmmmm…” Henry hums, as he bounces the screaming infant in his arms. She’s been like this since Alex handed her over to him, and now Alex is at work; and Henry refuses to call him back home because he can’t calm their daughter himself. Still Alex did say he could easily bring all his paperwork home if he had to… Henry shakes his head at himself. No. No, that's not fair to Alex. He is already so behind on work from the time he had taken off when she was born. Alex has kept her whole days on his own when Henry had to deal with an issue at the shelter; there is no reason Henry shouldn’t be able to manage for just a few hours. He can do this.  Or so he thought before her cries turned to wails, then turned to shrieks, as if she’s in some unimaginable pain, and Henry can feel himself starting to panic. “Shhh, there there now… it’s alright; you’re alright.” And she is, isn’t she? He has checked her over multiple times. She is fed, burped, changed. She should be fine. “God I hope you’re alright…” He whispers, feeling tears stinging the corners of his eyes. In no time he is sobbing along with her. 

Now I tag @scripted-downfall and expect Twooooo snippets because she didn’t do it last week.. this is 100% a full pressure tag 😂

[dickytwister]

WIP DAY

tagged by: @nuclearstorms tagging: @stars-of-the-heart @perseus-veil @stacispratt @paralytic-states @shellibisshe @strafethesesinners @judasofsuburbia @hopecountyisforlovers @wewillryesagain and whoever wants to do it!!! in an unprecedented turn of event, i will finally post a wip on wip day,,,,,,, i have fallen deep inside the psych rabbit hole and i am now writing shassie fics so this is what you're getting god bless and amen 🙏🏼🙏🏼 i'll try to post oc writing next time i'm posting a wip teehee!!! and thanks for tagging me bones mwah mwah and mwah

It all happened incredibly fast, and yet Lassiter could still see the last ten minutes play out behind his eyelids like detached scenes from a movie.

Shawn had called him at an ungodly hour of the night, rambling like a madman about a psychic vision so strong it had woken him up—Lassiter highly doubted that, just as he did the mere fact of Shawn being a psychic in the first place. He’d given him a location and had nearly begged him to come as fast as possible.

The Riviera Parlour was the kind of high-end restaurant that Lassiter had only ever dreamt of setting foot into. With a waiting list the length of his arm and a menu that averaged his bi-weekly salary, dining there had simply been out of the question. He’d only considered the idea once, a few months after his separation, hoping that Victoria would have seen in this gesture just how devoted he could be, if given another chance.

Shawn, with his green Henley shirt unbuttoned at the neck and pale blue jeans, had seemed out of place in front of the gold ornaments that decorated the facade of the restaurant. What’s more, the torrential rain had soaked him from head to toe, his hair matted to his forehead and clothes sticking to his body like a second skin. He’d looked all the part of a mutt left to sleep in the doghouse, and Lassiter had had half a mind to scold him for taking his bike in such weather. He’d instead held his tongue, had stared expectantly at the other man with a pinched grimace.

The door had been unlocked—Lassiter had glanced at Shawn with a raised eyebrow only for the latter to shrug and squeeze past him into the restaurant. The glow of their flashlights had casted eery shadows on the walls as they’d wandered, Lassiter forcing Shawn to stay behind him even as the faux-psychic had held his fingers to his temples and guided him deeper into the restaurant and into the kitchen.

He’d ‘divined’ that the evidence they’d needed to tie their suspect to the murders was in the walk-in freezer. How he’d come to that conclusion, Lassiter had no idea, and he hadn’t bothered to ask. Cautiously, gun held tightly in his fist, Lassiter had pushed the freezer’s door open and walked in. Shawn had stayed behind to hold the door, peaking curiously with his head tilted sideways, eyes darting across the room with barely concealed interest.

And then, just as Lassiter had been about to complain about the flagrant lack of evidence, Shawn had yelped and stumbled forward, holding the back of his head with one hand as the door had banged shut.

A deafening silence had hovered over the room for two, three full seconds before Lassiter had launched himself at the door. He’d pulled and pushed at the handle, banged his fist on the cold metal and the thick glass of the window, yelled himself raw, to no avail; the door had remained firmly shut, and their suspect had fled, taking with him their only chance of getting out anytime soon.

Leaning against the door with two fingers pinched against the bridge of his nose, Lassiter forced himself to remain calm, even as Shawn’s rambling, which had been going on since Lassiter’s attempts to open the door had failed, went on and on with no sign of stopping.

“Think anyone’ll get mad if I eat some of these frozen raviolis? I didn’t eat before I left and I’m getting a tummy ache, which is seriously messing with my psychic abilities–”

“If you’re not going to help me find a way out of here, kindly shut the hell up,” Lassiter snapped, glaring intently at Shawn as the latter examined the contents of the shelves. There was no mistaking the tremor in his shoulders, previously soaked clothes now frozen solid on his body.

“Don’t worry, I already have a plan,” Shawn assured confidently, though that didn’t mean much when his voice trembled with every word he spoke. “We turn into icicles and, in ten years, they bring us back to life Michael Beck style.”

“Can you be serious for one second? It’s your fault we’re in this mess.” Then, with a frustrated huff, “And who the hell is ‘they’?”

Shawn shrugged with a vague wave of his hand, and Lassiter had to physically stop himself from reaching for his gun.

“Did you tell anyone else about your hunch?”

“You mean my vision.”

“No, I mean your hunch. Answer the goddamn question, Spencer.”

[philtstone]

Anne/Gilbert, 13

#13 - You say my name for the first time and I fall in love in an empty bar

two days ago i accidentally stumbled upon an ancient half-written opening scene to an anne of green gables psych au in the depths of my wip folder, and it struck me that whatever this concept was, the world deserved to see it. so i decided to pummel it into a coherent prompt fill and here we are. the prompt is ... interpretive, but i think it works. if it isn't clear, anne is shawn, diana is gus, and gilbert is juliette. i don't actually know if there's a lassiter in this universe; suggestions are, of course, welcome

for @foolgobi65, because as one might expect, the title of the google doc read, "for maya"

Anne’s day ends with her spitting out a large gulp of no-brand hallucinogenic instant coffee onto the potted azalea in their lobby. 

Well. That is not wholly accurate. One could argue that Anne’s day ends with the gasping splutter that follows, and the wide-eyed stare she bestows upon her sheepish colleague slash long-time childhood friend slash former sworn enemy, slash --

Well. That, too, leaves some points unaddressed. 

The most accurate account capitulates that Anne’s day -- an all-around uneventful, if emotionally complicated affair -- ends with the soft, butterfly-wing laugh shared by two friends who have acknowledged the known truth of a secret badly kept and ultimately harmless in practice.

But that’s where Anne’s day ends; it begins quite monotonously, with a tip-off about Mrs. Blewitt’s peevish cat having gone missing (it had run away and good riddance, Anne insists, a conclusion she comes to without any collection of evidence nor erstwhile psychic episode), and the spilled bowl of coco puffs that heralds the complicated emotions of the day’s middle.

And so, without further ado, the middle:

Gilbert is starfished on the floor, t-shirt clad back against cheap laminate. 

Gilbert has been starfished on the floor (t-shirt clad back against cheap laminate) all afternoon. Anne does not know if this is his natural mourning position or something unique to this particular lamentation. Either option is pitiable on principle, and saddening in the more subjective sense; he is a dear friend, and this a sticky situation. 

But the fact of the matter is that his limbs are simply too long to be starfishing in the Lady C’s Psychic Detective Agency lobby. Specifically, they don’t actually have a lobby, as the entire space is just one dinky office and a houseplant.

“Oh, Gilbert,” says Diana, placatingly, as she’s said at least twelve times in varying tones of commiseration in the last hour.

“I’m a fool,” Gilbert tells the ceiling. Anne can acquiesce that the ceiling is a very good listener; she and that ceiling have had many a despondent heart-to-heart in the past year alone. “A prized idiot, Anne.” 

Anne scowls. 

She does so enjoy being right -- it has to be said -- but that doesn’t mean she would pull an I told you so after someone’s job has been lost. Jobs are livelihoods. Livelihoods mean being able to do things like actually afford groceries, or own a car that does not make horrible rattling noises every time one turns on the left-hand blinker. 

She got the “I told you so” off her chest hours ago. 

“You’re not an idiot,” says Anne, more snappishly than she intends it. “You’re a good person, Gilbert Blythe. That is not an idiot.”

“I am,” insists Gilbert. “This was a terrible idea. Zero out of ten, would not do again. Why didn’t I go into medicine? Remember Ms. Stacey from the seventh grade? She said I should go into medicine.”

At this, Diana throws Anne an aggrieved look from under the well-groomed fringe of her glossy dark hair. 

Diana -- when she isn’t saying “Oh, Gilbert” in commiserating tones -- is making coffee in the corner in what must be a noble attempt at offering a comforting hot drink during a time of trouble. Only, she’s using the last of their instant coffee mix, which Anne employs more in DIY home facial remedies (a desperate bid to reduce her stubbornly-enduring freckles) than she does in coffee. It generally tastes like putrified cardboard and has odd kernels of glittery orange stuff in it that Anne once insisted almost did give her an out of body hallucinogenic psychic experience.

Marilla had said “Fiddlesticks” and attributed that to sleep deprivation and a too-large cup of artificially caffeinated joe, but that is beside the point.

The point is: Anne’s not sure if the coffee is their best course of action, comfort-wise, and of course reminiscing about seventh grade is not going to get them anywhere good. Seventh grade involved terrible hair dye jobs, the distasteful entity that was Josie Pye, and that one time (read: the entirety of seventh grade) where Gilbert tugged Anne’s braid in a misguided attempt to get her attention and Anne vowed to hate him forever. 

Obviously, Anne did not keep good on that vow, else Gilbert would not be starfishing on the floor of her slightly-fraudulent psychic detective agency office, in the throes of misery. 

Anne sighs. She tries to telepathically communicate to Diana that it is indeed a go on the well-meaning offering of mediocre bean juice and taps her foot. 

“Here, Gilbert,” says Diana, kneeling down and offering the chipped mug to the general vicinity of Gilbert’s prone chin. Gilbert looks at her desolately, and then down his nose -- it’s a very fine nose, Anne thinks unhelpfully -- at the steaming cup. He goes a little cross-eyed.

“Oh,” says Gilbert. “Thanks, Diana.”

But he doesn’t make any move to get up. Anne taps her foot more insistently and crosses her plaid-clad arms, frowning.

“Drink the coffee,” says Anne, in a tone she hopes brooks no argument. Diana told her only yesterday that she’d quite excelled in recent weeks at achieving it. The wisdom of its application had been another matter entirely, tangled in an unfortunate case involving a missing Jersey cow and a classical opera singer’s heirloom willow-pattern serving platter -- but that was neither here nor there, and Diana’s faithful encouragement was greatly appreciated.

A Jersey cow in Toronto, Anne thinks now, huffing. Of all the things --

Gilbert has not taken his coffee. 

“Gilbert,” says Anne.

Perhaps the stuff’ll be so strong that Gilbert will be knocked right out cold, thus reprieving him of his woes for a short while. Or maybe it’ll give him that hallucinogenic experience Anne had, and, subsequently, he will realize that Anne herself is not the real thing, and merely an expert fake, and their carefully-built, much-cherished friendship will be over forever.

Fiddlesticks, says Marilla’s sensible voice in Anne’s head. 

Focus, Anne, thinks Anne.

“Gilbert,” Anne says again, in less theatrical tones, “you did absolutely nothing wrong. You are free of the corrupt institution of manufactured public justice now, and good riddance to that.”

This is the second time today Anne has said “and good riddance to that”. Gilbert says nothing, and continues frowning at the ceiling. 

“You pursued justice,” continues Anne -- and is it really her fault the theatrics are creeping back in? -- “and for that were dishonourably suspended. You followed protocol and reported disingenuous practices that were hurting an innocent family. That’s more than enough to ensure your relative moral standing in an ethically complex situation. So, really, who is the dishonourable party here? The --”

“The Toronto police department,” offers Diana helpfully.

“The Toronto police department!” finishes Anne. 

“Yes,” says Diana.

“Yes,” repeats Anne, then flounders, realizing her point has already been made. “And – well – good riddance to them!”

There is a beat; Gilbert turns his face, rather muppet-like, across the floor, to look at her with marginally-less miserable eyes; the top of his curly dark head flops against the floor. They stare at each other awkwardly for a long moment.

“Well?” Anne says, finally. “Drink that poisonous coffee and up and at ‘em.”

Finally, Gilbert sighs, and pushes himself up onto his elbows. This is good. One brown-fingered hand grasps the death liquid in a sort of fumbled grapple for balance and prevented spillage. He says,

“Thank you, Diana -- Anne. I -- I know.”

“Well, good,” says Anne.

“I’m just -- I’d be perfectly happy figuring out a new life, on principle, but this case -- I can’t just leave it.”

“Well that’s a given. Obviously, you’ll figure it out. Bring those clowns to justice.” 

This is Anne speaking.

“Right,” says Gilbert. There is a furrow remaining between his frustratingly nice brows. “But Anne -- I don’t have any resources anymore. I got fired, remember? I had to turn in my badge and gun and even my car.”

“We have a car,” Diana says helpfully. Anne nods, not quite realizing the end goal her bosom friend and psychic detective partner is building up to here; she is more caught on the fact that Gil’s department issued vehicle was a sleek Volvo, and Diana’s car is her mother’s ancient fire engine red Toyota and outside of ongoing engine troubles also smells eternally of the family kimchi recipe. “We have food in our fridge, too –” (that kimchi) “and we have pens, and pencils, and lots of paper, and a printer – Anne’s got a taser, even –”

“Diana,” Anne hisses, instinct overriding any higher brain function that would catch on to Diana’s burgeoning Point.

“You know that’s illegal, right?” says Gil, unhelpfully,

“What I’m trying to say,” says Diana, “is sure, you have resources, Gilbert Blythe. You’ve got us, haven’t you? Actually, well, I’ve had a really great idea. You could just work here!”

It is here that the heroines of this daytime drama begin their journey towards the spluttering end-of-day outlined at the beginning, because at this cheerful declaration Anne turns, and blinks rapidly at her colleague. Gilbert, in turn, blinks at Anne.

“You’ll be an official part of Lady C’s Psychic Detective Agency!” continues Diana, all dimpled smiles, and even claps her hands together – so enthusiastically that the puffy cold shoulder sleeves of her powder blue top bounce. “I think that solves all of our problems, don’t you, Anne?” 

The late afternoon sun shining through the half-covered office window is making Diana’s Wednesday work-day highlight pop quite extraordinarily; perhaps this is what distracts Anne enough that she does not take her by the well-manicured hand and say, with awkward comedic timing, a word? like people do in humorous television shows. Rather, realizing that there really is nothing else she can say: 

“Oh, erm, sure.” 

Only then, somewhat immediately, does the reality of the statement barrel into her like that damnable Jersey cow. 

“Diana,” Anne hisses, a second time.

“Oh, don’t be a sourpuss, Anne,” Diana says breezily. “I think Gil’ll get on just fine here. And anyway, Marilla gave us, like, four days’ worth of leftovers to keep in the fridge. We need a man to help us eat through it.”

Amidst all of this, Gilbert’s expression has been slowly evolving from an understandable bewilderment to a perhaps more expected bemusement. By the time Anne has gathered enough of her wits to a), ignore him, and b), say, “No one says sourpuss anymore, Diana,” (because she is feeling acutely uncharitable in that exact moment), Gilbert has properly pulled himself up into a sitting position, rested his elbows loosely upon his knees, and said,

“That sounds fine to me.”

Anne whirls around to face him. She has lost words. How could Diana do this to her? This great betrayal of her deepest trust? Absolutely, Gilbert cannot work with them. Gilbert, who she has finally made peace with. Gilbert, who is one of her most valued friends. Gilbert, who trusts Anne, but does not at all know her process. Gilbert does not know the minutiae of her talents. Gilbert does not know that she is, in fact, lying through her teeth to the law, for money and also the greater good of the Greater Toronto Area. Well, perhaps it’s more like bending some truths – but Gilbert is an innocent in this equation, is the point! Of course, he is innocent in a manner that makes him utterly guilty and culpable in every respect, as Anne never hesitates to blame him for her many personal ills – but the fact of the matter is that she, Anne, will not be able to keep her fraudulent clairvoyant claims safe if Gilbert is living in her detective office.

“It’s not like I need a place to crash or anything,” Gilbert says, as though reading Anne’s very unhelpful and resoundingly mute train of thought. “But what I’d give to beat the bastards who did this at their own game.”

… Oh. The case. Which they have still not solved.

Anne, with herculean effort, unsticks her voice.

“No,” she says. “Absolutely not. This is a terrible idea, Gilbert Blythe. I won’t have it.” 

Gilbert eyes her very carefully, like she is a puzzle he cannot quite crack. Diana, on the other hand – who has been collecting her coffeemaking supplies with efficiency – whirls around on her way to the kitchenette and offers Anne a terribly pointed, knowing look. 

“I think it’ll be good for all of us, actually.”

“No,” Anne says. Really, she almost clasps her hands together in prayer. “No, no no no no, Di-ana –”

But Diana is gone, and Anne finds herself suddenly mute again: Gilbert has abandoned his laminate lamentations and stood to his full height.

He’s right in front of her and everything, too. She is struck by an awful earth-shattering vision of the same unfairly broad, football player’s chest now directly in her eyeline walking away from her, broken and defeated by the soul-destroying betrayal that will follow his inevitable realization that Anne is a lying liar who lied. 

“C’mon, Anne,” Gil says, as he steps forward to follow Diana out. His whole person is too close, his voice too chummy, just by her ear but oh so casual, and then, in the most infuriatingly possible way he could say it – “what’s the worst that could happen?”

And he leaves her standing in the empty Lady C’s lobby, wishing that she really did have psychic abilities after all. 

Maybe then, she could have seen this total disaster of a development coming.

[bisexualseraphim]

Not me lol’ing about the shawn mendes commentary 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Fun thing is I knew who he was because I saw the show for the first time last year. But if it was me watching back in 2015-2016??

The more you approach the inevitable the more I feel for you, so good luck on your watching 😘

Oh God he was fucking EVERYWHERE when I was in high school and college, some of my teachers would put the radio on while we studied and I swear the same mf song of his would play like 3 times an hour at least. Girl I WISH I didn’t know who he is cos honestly I have never understood the hype whatsoever, I swear people just see a somewhat conventionally attractive white twink and that’s all it takes for them to be like

I think the only other time I’ve taken this much psychic damage from a Forced Mid White Boy Musician Cameo™️ was when fucking Ed Sheeran was in an episode of Game of Thrones singing some cringey ass song 😭 No one asked for this trend please stop this nonsense it’s not good for my cardiac health

Can you believe we’re only 5 episodes away from The Incident? Idk how I’m gonna be able to go through with watching it tbh cos I know it’s just gonna set me off into an unholy rage all over again lol

[theshadowrealmitself]

I love "actual psychic Shawn Spencer" AUs. Person pretending to have supernatural powers gets real supernatural powers is one of my favorite tropes, feels like a mix of karma and "careful what you wish for." Any fics you recommend?

I’m looking through old fics rn but this is gonna take awhile, unfortunately the last time I had read Psych fics was like…wow….5 or so years ago? So it’s gonna take awhile, but I’m hoping to make up a list eventually!!

[butcherlarry]

Exercise fic (and other) recs 7

Some more fic recs!  Plus a podcast fic rec and a TV show!

Most of the fics I read this week were Batman/Batfam/Superbat, along with one HP fic.  The first fic was fun, there was a lot of Clark and Jason interaction that I really enjoyed.  The second one is an AU were the bat kids can only fight crime with Bruce when they reach 18.  The third one is a random HP fic from an author in that fandom that I follow and enjoy.  The last fic is HILARIOUS, omg.  All I can say is, poor Damian.  He is going to take some psychic damage when he figures out what Bruce and Clark were doing in the bedroom, lol.

i got big plans that i might skip by RemoCon

Minimum Height Requirement by Drag0nst0rm

Used to the Silence by Lomonaaeren

when it’s time by TheResurrectionist

Once a week, my friend @beachcat0772 and I watch an episode of Psych together (as long as our work schedules match up.  *shakes fist* curse you capitalism!).  I walked on the treadmill as I watched this time.  I am having a lot of fun with the Psych watch through.  I’ve never seen it, but my friend has.  It’s fun going through the episode summaries, and listening to her get excited about upcoming ones :D

Shawn Gets the Yips - Psych Season 4 Episode 5

I also listened to more of my favorite podcast, Behind the Bastards, while walking.  They are doing a series on the history of the Illuminati, and they are on part four (it’s still not finished yet).  I’ve linked the first episode of the series.  The guests, Margaret Killjoy and Garrison Davis (@/magpiekilljoy and @/hungrybowtie on Twitter) are delightful to listen to as Robert Evans talks about this topic.

Part One:  A Complete History of the Illuminati from Behind the Bastards

I also got NEW SHOES.  When it comes to exercising and being active in general, I try to keep it as easy as possible.  I keep my treadmill out in the living area, in front of the TV.  This way, there’s easy access to it so I ACTUALLY USE IT.  I also decided to do this with with my shoes too.  The are running shoes, but they are slip-ons (easy to put on and take off).  If I make exercise easy for me, I have NO EXCUSES not to do it.  

The coffee shop I go to every Sunday currently has a cinnamon roll latte that I love.  It’s Very Tasty.   

I took a slightly different path on my walk today.  I have to walk up a steeper path, and it’s a bit rockier too.  So a good work out, lol!  This is the path leading up to it.

There is also a spot that has a cool outlook, and you can find it by looking for these two trees that look like posts.  It reminds me of walking through a doorway.  

I didn’t get any good bird pictures at the arboretum today, but I did have a mourning dove yesterday in it’s borb form sitting on the tree close to my balcony.  They were Very Cute.

I take a lot of pictures on my walks.  I’m tempted to do another post later with more of the neat pictures I was able to take.  We’ll see!

[jamesrodayrodriguezpresents]

Shawn and Gus tackle their 'most personal case yet' in Psych 3: This Is Gus trailer

Order up some quatro queso dos fritos, because Shawn (James Roday Rodriguez) and Gus (Dulé Hill) are back on the case.

Peacock unveiled the first trailer for Psych 3: This Is Gus during the movie's New York Comic-Con panel Saturday — and you can watch it exclusively above. The hilarious spot promises new twists on classic bits ("Flame suck it!"), silly disguises, and a surprise cameo from Tears for Fears singer Curt Smith, who previously guest-starred in three episodes during Psych's initial eight-season run on USA Network.

Picking up where Psych 2: Lassie Come Home left off, the threequel follows our favorite fake psychic detectives on "their most personal case yet," according to the trailer, as they investigate Gus' pregnant fiancée Selene (Jazmyn Simon), who may not be who she says she is. And is anyone surprised given Gus' track record in the romance department? Not only is she still married to a mysterious man they need to find before the wedding, but Selene isn't even her real name. (Fingers crossed it actually is Prince!) Hopefully, they get this sorted out before Gus and Selene walk down the aisle!

During Saturday's panel, which was moderated by EW's Chancellor Agard, Roday Rodriguez, Hill, and Simon joined Psych creator and Psych 3 director Steve Franks, executive producer Chris Henze, and stars Maggie Lawson (Juliet O'Hara), Kirsten Nelson (Chief Vick), Corbin Bernsen (Henry Spencer), and Timothy Omundson (Carlton Lassiter) to preview the tomfoolery coming this November.

"I shook my head, I laughed till I cried, and I'm sure I texted James and was like, 'You guys are crazy,'" said Simon, explaining her initial reaction after reading the Psych 3 script and learning about Selene's wild backstory. "I loved it. It felt very on-brand for her. I thought they were so creative because she's such an oddball and she's such a fun character to play, so I feel like everybody would be like, 'Yeah, that seems about right.'"

"I think Henry Spencer said it right that there may be something wrong with my picker," said Hill, reflecting on the fact that Gus has found himself in yet another twisty romantic relationship. "I thought this time he was really going to do it right, but of course, something has to come up along the way...Hopefully with this go around, it'll all work out in the end for Gus — at least for right now."

With a wedding and baby on the way, Gus is moving past Shawn into a new stage of adulthood; however, Roday Rodriguez does believe Shawn will eventually come around. "I think it's sobering because the plan was always to live next door to each other and have adjoining waterslides," said the star, who co-wrote the movie with Franks. "I think the overriding emotional spine for Shawn is always that he wants his best friend to be happy."

As Shawn and Gus chase this case, Selene turns to Juliet and Chief Vick for help, thus further developing the friendship that started to take shape in the last movie. In some ways, it seems as though Juliet has finally found her Gus. "It's the best, because Jazmyn and I, in real life, are very close," said Lawson. "We've never actually seen [Juliet] have a friend, and I love that we're kind of playing that like, 'Nothing is going to break my bond with Selene — like Shawn, nothing. I finally have this friend so I am protecting her at all costs.'"

Nelson fondly recalled a fun "ladies night" the three women had while shooting. "That's what we dubbed it when Maggie, Jazmyn, and I had a couple of scenes together," she said. "It was just so nice to have that kind of energy on the set because it was very different from the bromance that we know and love on our show. So, it was kind of a nice little time to have like a girlmance."

Elsewhere in the movie, Lassiter, who was last seen recovering in a facility after he was severely wounded in the field, is readjusting to life back on the force and trying to figure out what's next for him. "The great thing about this is that Lassiter's recovery really mirrors my actual recovery in complete reality," said Omundson, who suffered a stroke right before production began on the first Psych movie. "I'm shooting this today in the same room where Maggie and I shot our FaceTime call for Psych the original movie, and I could barely speak at the time. So, it's kind of nice to be back here in this room now thinking [about] how far I've come and how far Lassiter has come."

Overall, the cast and producers believe Psych 3 takes all of the characters in a more mature direction.

"Corbin says, 'it's the most grown-up Psych' because everybody is sort of reaching a crossroads in their life," said Franks, who co-wrote the movie with Roday Rodriguez. "This movie is about, now what? What's the thing after you become an adult? What's next? Each character goes through that." That being said, don't worry Psych is still Psych. "The last 20 minutes of this movie are the craziest thing we've ever done and probably the proudest thing that I feel ever to be involved with," Franks said.

Watch the trailer above.

Psych 3: This Is Gus begins streaming Thursday, Nov. 18 on Peacock.

[birdkeeperklink]

Thank you for the tag, @figsandfandoms ! 💖

Rules:

•Post the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.

•send me an ask with the title that intrigues you and I’ll post a little snippet or tell you something about it!

•and tag as many people as you have wips.

I’m only including the recent ones, because if I included all of them, um...I’d probably have to break this into several different posts, and also it would take a long time, lol 😂 I have abandoned so many wips over the years....

Here we go:

Emma

emma-gksickfic

Psych

Lassie is hurt

lassie is hurt 2

Dating post-ep.12 (S1)

the other psychic

soulmates

the most dangerous game

shawn takes a shot in the dark if i was yours au

pick one

soulmates again but with jokes this time

Galavant

unlovable

And that covers everything I’ve worked on in the last three months! Drop me an ask if you’re interested in a little peek at any of them.

Now, to tag some writers.... @starlightasteria, @vtforpedro, @carltonlassie, @saebrin, @mmisery, @stevviefox, and @miss-multifandom-mess and I’m really sorry if I forgot anyone! Go ahead and do it and say I tagged you if I forgot you, my brain is refusing to remember any other usernames right now 😬💖

[obsidiancreates]

Why Bounce Around To The Same Damn Song (Part 2)

(Part 1) (Henry's parenting gets exposed/Real Psychic Shawn/Protective Lassie Jules and Gus) (1/3)

“Uh-oh.” Shawn looks behind them as Gus pushes The Blueberry as fast as it can go within the legal parameters dictated on the highway signs. “Dude, my dad is following us.”

“So? The sun is shining and the ocean is wet.”

“Yeah, but I can see him scowling from here.”

“Again, the ocean is wet, Shawn.”

“Just, step on it, alright? We haven’t really talked much since the whole… talking with you guys thing. I think Lassie and Jules kinda let loose on him.”

“Really?”

“I had a vision of Jules telling Lassie that she wouldn’t shoot a friend’s father. I don’t think either of us really believed her.”

“Dang. … I mean, I can’t lie, I’ve wanted to give him a piece or two of my mind since then.”

“Yes, I’m very aware. And so is your great-great-great-great grandma, who keeps telling me to tell you to go for it. I kinda wish I’d never unblocked myself from ghosts.”

“It helped you solve our last case in record time.”

“No, that one was faked. Right now I can only see and hear spirits who’re either close to me or close to you.”

“Why close to me?”

“We have a cosmic connection Gus, our souls are literally tied together. If I ever die you’re following me within a week.”

“What?! I will not have my lifeforce tied to yours Shawn, you practically beg the universe to kill you every day!”

“But it won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. I’m the universe’s most favorite and specialist boy.”

“You, are a grown-ass man.”

“Not to the infinite cosmos, Gus. To it, we’re all little babies, little jelly-like babies.”

“I hate not being able to tell what’s your nonsense and what’s actual supernatural knowledge you possess.”

“But it’s so much fun for me that you can’t! Oh, hang on, vision incoming.” Shawn puts his hand to his head. “You’re stopping for jerk chicken on the way home.”

“You know that’s right.”

“... With Lassie and Jules joining us.” Shawn frowns, and closes his eyes. They move rapidly under his eyelids, replaying and re-examining the vision. “And they’ve got bloody knuckles.”

“What?! What are we walking into?!”

��I-I don’t know! I can’t- it’s just a glimpse. It could just be from a case or something they just got back from.”

“But?”

“What do you mean but?”

“But, that’s your ‘I’m not convinced by my own theory’ face.”

“... The blood looks pretty fresh.”

“Shawn, if we walk into the station and it’s being held up or a criminal gets loose, I will kill you.”

“One week after me, Gus, max.”

“Tsk!”

They park, both keeping low as they tumble out of The Blueberry, just in case- until Henry stalks up behind them.

“What the hell are you two doing?”

“Crrrap.” Shawn stands up straighter and turns, plastering on an innocent smile. “Dad! Here to ah, report some of those seagulls that keep stealing your fries off the porch? Sorry to inform you but, I’m not sure Lassie arrests animals other than squirrels.”

“I’m here about that.” Henry points at Shawn, so close he’s practically pressing Shawn’s nose. “And all the other crap you’ve been pulling lately.”

Shawn’s eyes cross for a second as they take in the point. “You’ll have to be way more specific, Pops.”

“This is getting obsessive, Shawn.” Henry pulls back. “I don’t understand why you feel the need to stalk me-”

“Stalk you?”

“-or anyone else just to prove how good you are-”

“Whoa whoa, Shawn is not stalking anyone.” Gus steps forward, closer to Shawn’s side. “Especially not you.”

“Then how is he coming up with this stuff?” Henry crosses his arms. “And on your last case, you didn’t come by to see me once.”

“Because we didn’t need to,” Shawn says. “Dad, come on, I know I come to you a lot but Gus and I solve cases without your help all the time.”

“Shawn I pride myself on being able to figure out patterns in people’s behaviors.”

“Now that is a real shocker, I had absolutely no idea.”

“And the patterns you follow are the easiest ones. You get a case, you get stuck, you come to me, you solve it.”

“Not every time,” Gus defends again. “Besides, shouldn’t you be happy? We’re bothering you less and solving more cases.”

“Yeah, and I want to know how.” Henry tilts his head up, trying to look at Shawn from above like when Shawn was a child. “Because I’m starting to worry that I need to step in before you do something truly unforgivable in the name of winning.”

Shawn scoffs and looks away, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “Look, Dad, I’m sorry if we made you feel left out, or-or snubbed, but I’m not stalking anyone. I’ve been honing some new skills, that’s all.”

“New skills.”

“Why do your questions never sound like questions?”

“Because it’s not a question, Shawn. What skills?”

“Awesome ones.” Shawn finally looks back to meet his father’s eyes. “So awesome that your face can’t even handle them.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Great! You don’t ask questions and I don’t give answers, we’ve got a solid dynamic here. Let’s move on before it gets stale.” Shawn turns and jogs into the station. Gus lingers a moment, looking over Henry- really looking him over, seeing him through Shawn’s perspective properly for the first time ever.

Neither of them are surprised when Henry follows them into the station.

“Dad, seriously, I’m about to land us a case,” Shawn whisper-hisses as they walk into the bullpen.

“There’s nothing on the police radio about any new cases,” Henry argues.

“I’m not using the radio.”

“So how are you so sure you’re getting a case?”

“Trusting my gut.”

“Shawn, Shawn!” Henry grabs his son by the arm and yanks, making Shawn turn to face him. “I’m being serious, kid. Whatever methods you’re using now are effective, sure, but-”

“But what, Dad, I- you don’t even know what I’m doing!” Shawn feels eyes on the three of them. Great. He lowers his voice. “I promise it’s nothing illegal.” He pauses, and tilts his head. Technically his visions could be considered an invasion of privacy, right? Does being in a room metaphysically count as trespassing? And he did use one flashback vision to get the code to a safe while Gus was busy with something else, so… “More illegal.”

“So what is it?”

Shawn looks into Henry’s eyes… and blinks. Sudden understanding washes over him, the slight irritation giving way to deeper bitterness- and hurt, but on Shawn it just makes him look… normal. Toned-down, withdrawn, normal. “This isn’t about worrying about what I’m doing. It’s just driving you nuts that you can’t figure it out.”

“Yeah, which you were hoping for anyway, with all the flaunting. Congratulations kid, you found a new way to get on my nerves. Now tell me what you’re up to. You don’t have enough money to pay people off for information, you’re barely passable in sneaking or laying low, and you’re not really psy-”

“Shawn, Gus.” Jules walks over, eyes cold as they linger on Henry. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, Jules, it’s fine.” Shawn flashes her a small smile. “Pop-pop here was just begging for me to give him some of my blood for a new hair regrowth regiment. He’ll need to scrub his head with my plasma, everyday, with a follow up pineapple head mask. I was just turning him down.”

“Well, good. We need you both on the case that just came in.” Jules passes Shawn a file, now fully ignoring Henry. “A twenty-five year old but very experienced water sports champion was just found stabbed to death in the back of an abandoned community center construction site.”

Shawn flips through the file, focusing on the pictures. “Abandoned community center?”

“Project ran out of funding, and no-one bought the land after because they found out it was completely ruined with lead deposits.”

“But this report says that a new survey just cleared the land of all health risk concerns.” Gus pulls out the report in question to read it more closely. “The old one was just wrong? What?”

Shawn nods. “Things are definitely fishy, and not just because I can smell my dad from here. And uh…” Shawn’s next thought is interrupted as he hones in on the stab wound in the base of the victim’s neck, and his hand goes to his head. “I am sensing that the wound in the neck was made by a different weapon than the wounds in the chest.”

“Yeah, the neck was done with something circular, like a um, knitting needle-”

“Or pen?”

“Yeah.”

Images flash through Shawn’s mind- too quick to be helpful. He sees a struggle, he sees a blow to the throat with a fist, then with a pen- 

He narrows his eyes, playing it over again. When the attacker punches her throat, he reels back when she starts asphyxiating. His hands are shaking when he stabs the pen in.

“He was trying to save her,” he mumbles. “Jules, I think this was an accide-”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Henry snatches the file out of Shawn’s hands. “You don’t have nearly enough information to just call this an accident.”

“He had a vision, clearly.” Jule’s voice is stone-cold. “Carlton! Shawn has something for us!”

Lassiter walks up, his frown deepening. “You’re working with your dad on this?”

“No! No, he just- he followed us in here.”

“Because he’s a control freak,” Gus adds. Shawn looks at him with surprise, and Gus looks a little surprised himself at the sudden boldness. 

Lassiter just tenses his mouth and then nods to Shawn.

“I had a vision.” Shawn puts his other hand up to his head now. “The attacker is angry, but not enough to kill. No, no, I see panic! He’s using an old trick, a pen in the throat to help someone breathe, he’s trying to save her!” 

“Oh, no.” Shawn spares one glance at Henry, and sees horror. “No.”

“Dad, seriously, I’ll tell you later,” Shawn whispers, nudging Henry away a little. “I think we should start with suspects who cared about he- HEY!”

Henry drags Shawn away into a quiet corner, and Shawn notices out of the corner of his eye that Lassie’s hand twitches towards his jacket for a second. It can’t look that aggressive to someone watching, can it?

“You, are not, psychic,” Henry says firmly as soon as they’re tucked away.

“I never said I was.”

“You don’t have to. That’s what that was just now, wasn’t it? You think you’re actually psychic.”

“Can we please do this later?” Shawn keeps his voice as low as possible. “In case you missed it, I’m kind of on a case right now.” The word ‘case’ is said so quietly that it’s silent, the only sound the shifting of saliva in Shawn’s mouth.

“You’re spouting bullcrap and putting the real detectives on a bad lead,” Henry whispers back.

“Dad, you have to trust me on this!”

“What makes you think you’ve earned enough trust for me to let this happen?! You are not actually psychic, Shawn!”

“What if I was? Huh? If I was and I could prove it, would you let me get back to my job?” He didn’t want to do this, he didn’t want to ever do this, he wanted to just play around and confuse his dad forever-

“Prove it.” Again with the not-questions.

“Prove it, yes. Here, like this- the other day I had a vision of you sitting and watching a show you and Mom used to love and you picked up your phone to text her but deleted it all instead. How about that, does that convince you?”

“Where were you hiding?”

“Nowhere! Dad, seriously, I’ll explain right after this if you just-”

“No! No, Shawn, no, because if this is getting to your head that badly then this needs to end.”

“Wh-” Henry is stalking away back to Gus and the detectives before Shawn can fully process what he means. “Dad!” He jogs to catch up. “Dad, wait-”

“Detectives, I have something to tell you both, out of extreme concern for Shawn’s mental wellbeing.”

Gus scoffs. Jules and Lassie don’t look convinced of Henry’s intentions either. It’s enough to throw him for a second, a second long enough for Shawn to catch up.

Henry looks at Gus, then Jules, then Lassie. “What’s going on here? First I get thrown out of the station, now I’m not taken seriously when I’m worried about my own son?”

“Look Spencer,” Lassies says, looking down at Henry, “To be frank, starting something off with you being concerned about your son’s mental wellbeing isn’t exactly a convincing start.”

Shawn’s eyes widen and he starts making a slicing motion across his neck.

Henry crosses his arms. “And why is that?”

“You’ve never exactly pulled your punches when publicly lambasting him.”

“And you’ve never defended him to me before.” Henry narrows his eyes. “And Guster’s never insulted me like he did earlier.” He turns to Shawn. “What the hell did you say?”

“Nothing,” Shawn says quickly. “Nobody’s saying anything and Gus and I are leaving, and I’ll explain everything to you some other time that’s not right now!”

“No! No, you are not running away from this, tell me what you told them to make them treat me this way.”

“He told us about his training,” Jules says even as Shawn tries to motion for silence again. “And as much as we appreciate the help he’s able to provide to the department because of it, it was… unethical at best.”

“Unethical.”

Shawn tries to pull Gus away. 

“Oh come on Spencer, even I know that you can’t do all of that to a child and expect them to have all their screws tightened in place.” Lassiter crosses his arms. “At least when I memorized the Miranda Rights at seven it was because I wanted to.”

“Oh, so he told you everything.” Henry eyes Shawn. “That I trained him to be a detective and he threw it all away to be a psychic.”

“He’s a psychic and a detective,” Jules says firmly.

“No, he’s not.”

“Dad-” 

“No, this has gone too far, Shawn. Detectives Shawn is not and never has been psychic, but he’s begun believing his own lie and I’m seriously concerned about his mental state.”