#fic!shawn

[goofalicousgooberface]

I love how Shawn has had so many jobs. The show doesn’t use it nearly enough. Like. Oh, you’re air conditioning is broken? Guess who worked as an A/C repairman for a week and a half. Need the best seasoning to go on your steak? Shawn worked as a cook at a barbecue joint for three weeks. Need help with your makeup for a fancy dinner date? Guess which psychic was a makeup artists for three days.

[marlenacantswim]

shassie as a dynamic works so well imo because shawn is dialectically a genius and an idiot while lassie is dialectically badass and pathetic. thus, in the most ideal scenario, they're a scarily effective power duo of whip-smart deduction and ruthless tactical intimidation, but when you flip them to the other sides of their spectrums they become Two Losers Making Asses Of Themselves, both of whom constantly try to hoist themselves back to the other end by using the other as a counterweight.

[boom-bada-boom]

shawn spencer, through a series of comedic should-be-impossible hijinks, gets turned into a cat without anyone knowing its him. he elects to hang around the station and help out however much his four paws can.

hilariously, it doesn’t change that much.

some notes:

hes brownish-orange (kinda like henry’s hair in flashbacks??) which means he is close enough that he has the orange cat curse™

trying to decide on what breed he is. obviously mixed but what is in the mix?? main thoughts are havana, bengal, and siamese

okay final thoughts: bengal-siamese mix with a havana-like coloring for both eyes and coat.

hes a chatty cattyyyyyyyyyy,,,,,,,, yapper frfr

dog-person lassie and cat-person jules (she canonically has two cats)

he is so indecisive on if he should try and communicate that he is shawn to the station. on one hand theyd know hes safe and maybe be able to help him fix this. on the other jules has literally played fetch with him. a few officers have hand fed him. several cat things occurred. he would never live this all down (human shawn after hes asked where he was for like two months: (heavy sweating) i dont remember)

shawn sleeping in lassie’s chair and on his lap. he started doing it for the laughs but now he has realized that oh no this is actually comfy. tragedy.

half the station supports shawn’s cat shenanigans. a third just take videos. the remaining sixth try to call animal control on shawn but he always gets away and hes back in the station like two hours later so eventually they give up lmao

while all this is happening the station is also stressing because of shawn’s disappearance. they cant find any evidence for what happened. shawn went out to pursue a lead and just vanished. consequently, shawn is trying to make them all feel better with cat shenanigans

he refuses to use a litter box. it does not matter that he is so so small now he is using the fucking toilet. (the officers start leaving the bathroom door open a crack so he can slip in lmao)

shawn reading over case files while sitting on them. hes participating (and solving them)

shawn as a human accidentally left a pineapple stress toy in the station (maybe on some forgotten corner of lassie’s desk or smth lmao) and as a cat he rediscovers it and decides to play ball using it. all this to say that people start calling him pineapple because of it. honestly hes quite happy with that name over some other possibilities

jules is the only one allowed to touch the pineapple toy. he doesnt trust lassie not to try and dump it or something like the spiteful person he is and he certainly doesnt want anyone else touching it. (he would allow lassie to touch the pineapple toy if it werent for that fact though)

(shawn very carefully putting the pineapple toy down in front of lassie for the first timeand staring up with his big ole eyes and lassie stares back and externally his expression is hella flat but internally hes like oh no. oh no its growing on me)

BIG NEWS: cats can in fact eat pineapple, just not a lot since as a fruit it has a lot of sugar (not good for cats), HOWEVER… “It’s hard to see why because cats don’t have the taste buds that let them enjoy sweet flavors. The strong sweet and tangy taste of pineapple is mostly lost on them.”

shawn finally managing to get someone (probably buzz) to give him some pineapple only to be utterly HEARTBROKEN bc it DOESNT TASTE LIKE PINEAPPLE ANYMORE !!!!!!!!!

juliet holding him like a little baby as he is purring like a freight train

LASSITER HOLDING HIM LIKE LONGCAT AS HE IS WAILING LIKE THE DAMNED

literallyyyyyy thisss,,,,

he breaks into the chief’s office to lounge on her desk and she gives him hardcore side eye before, after a while, just sighing and starting to pet him. “this station doesn’t exactly need a mascot, you know,” she tells him, to a reply of mrrp, “but i suppose a little bit of cheering up wouldn’t be too bad.” very carefully, she taps him on the nose. “but not too much. this is a serious line of work—no making a mockery of my station.” the dull thunking of a tail smacking repeatedly into solid wood made no promises.

inconceivable amounts of cat fur everywhere and on everyone. no one can brush him because he wriggles away like an eel and dramatically grooms his fur out of their reach. so he just sheds everywhere. hes got a thick coat there is so. much. fur.

he keeps sneaking into crime scenes. no one is sure how but they suspect he is hitchhiking in lassiter’s car. no one can prove it tho bc they cant fucking find him. the crazy thing is that he leads them to evidence sometimes like a narcotics detection dog but with completely random items that usually seem nonsensical at first. until they prove otherwise. consistently.

lassie to himself: man this feels just like dealing with spencer’s psychic shit. weird.

GUS FIGURES IT OUT FIRST. not because he saw anything but he just saw a newspaper about this cat solving crime with the cops and he was like “oh my fucking god. it can’t be.” and then he pulled up to the station yoinked said cat and went to an isolated corner to freak the fuck out with it. “shawn what the hell happened” he goes, and shawn meows with feeling

juliet watching gus talk to pineapple the station cat in the corner of the bullpen: ???????

several cops having the all-important conversation of what to label him as. theres no snappy cat version of K9 they can use. K9 is supposed to sound like “canine” but there’s no letter to cover the fel in“feline”

some say F9 and some say L9 and a few say FL9 or just straight up FEL9

BY THE WAY!!!!! “Police cats are becoming an increasingly popular addition to law enforcement teams around the world. These feline officers are being trained to assist their human counterparts in various aspects of police work, from sniffing out drugs and explosives to providing comfort and emotional support to officers on duty” SND ALSO “Because they are uncommon, police cats receive a lot of press. Many show up regularly in media posts. If your local department has a police cat, don’t be surprised if you see stories about them on the news”

police cats are a real thing!! shawn is not an official police cat but he is at this point an unofficial one. on rare occasions he might even listen to an order or two (the station thinks he may have been specially trained by some probably-illegal group or smth, escaped, and decided to imprint on the station) (btw this is an actual issue with some police cats. as independent creatures theyre not as predictable as dogs and might not follow orders, which is an issue in high stakes situations n shit)

[greengoblinswifey]

Older Wrestlers Do It Better—Shawn Michaels x Fem!Reader

summary— After winning your first Women’s Championship, you finally meet your childhood crush, Shawn Michaels. Nervously flirting with him leads to an unforgettable night where he makes your win ever better.

warnings— age gap(reader is in her 20s, shawn is in his 50s), flirting, cunnilingus, praise kink, possessive!shawn, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare.

a/n— My first Shawn Michaels fic, hope you guys enjoy <3 Literally have had a crush on him for so long🤭

Winning the Women’s Championship was the most surreal moment of your life. Years of grinding in other promotions, building your name, perfecting your craft, it had all led to this. The cheers of the crowd, the weight of the gold on your shoulder, the rush of emotions hitting you all at once as you stepped backstage.

The second you crossed the curtain, a wave of congratulations hit you. Superstars, crew members, even higher ups, everyone was there, giving you pats on the back, words of praise. You tried to take it all in, your heart still hammering from the adrenaline, when you heard it.

A deep, gruff voice behind you.

“Congratulations, champ. I’m proud of you.”

You froze. That voice. That unmistakable, slightly raspy voice. Slowly, almost in disbelief, you turned around and your breath caught in your throat.

It was him.

Shawn Michaels.

Your brain short circuited. For years, you’d admired him. Hell, if you were being honest, you’d been in love with him. Growing up, watching him on your TV screen, mesmerized by his presence, his talent, his everything. And now, here he was, standing right in front of you, looking at you like he actually knew who you were.

“Wow,” you blurted out, your voice coming out embarrassingly breathless. “Thank you.”

Shawn smirked at your obvious nerves, his arms crossing over his chest. “You earned it,” he said. “I’ve been watching you for a while now. I made sure they knew you were the real deal. You’re gonna carry this division better than anyone.”

Your heart nearly exploded. Shawn Michaels had been watching you? Shawn Michaels had put in a word for you?

“I—” You struggled to form words, your cheeks burning. “That means everything. I admire you so much, I love your work, I—” You cut yourself off before you started sounding like a crazy fangirl, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from rambling.

His smirk deepened, and before you could react, he pulled you into a hug.

Holy. Fuck.

Your face pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around you, the scent of his cologne completely overwhelming your senses. Your brain refused to function, your hands awkwardly gripping onto the back of his shirt as your cheeks burned hotter than ever.

After a few moments, he pulled back, his hand squeezing your shoulder before dropping to his side. “Didn’t wanna take up too much of your time,” he said. “Enjoy your night, champ.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving you standing there like an absolute fool.

Later, after the chaos of the night settled, you were lounging with Rhea, Tiffany, and Liv in the locker room, all of them still hyped over your win.

“You killed it out there,” Rhea said, nudging you with a proud grin.

Tiffany nodded, flipping her hair. “And let’s be real, your skin looks so good with gold.”

“Thanks, guys. But guess who congratulated me? And—” You leaned in dramatically. “Was apparently partially responsible for my win?”

The girls exchanged curious looks. “Who?” Liv asked.

You took a breath for dramatic effect. “Shawn. Fucking. Michaels.”

The reaction was instant. Rhea’s eyes widened, Tiffany gasped, and Liv practically shrieked.

“Your crush?” Rhea said.

“The man you said you wanted to marry?” Tiffany added.

“Exactly,” you confirmed, still trying to process it yourself.

“And?” Liv pressed. “Did you keep your cool, or did you embarrass yourself?”

You groaned, throwing your head back. “Oh, I embarrassed myself. I was all nervous, blushing like an idiot, barely forming words. But he hugged me. I swear I almost passed out.”

“Okay, but what does this mean? Do you think he was flirting?” Tiffany laughed.

“God, I hope so,” you muttered before sighing dramatically. “I just want him so bad. He’s so fine. And you know I love older men. Like, I would give anything for him to fuck me hard. With eye contact, might I add. Older men just do it better—”

The sudden silence from the girls made your stomach drop.

You saw their eyes widen, their mouths slightly open, and the moment Rhea subtly nodded toward something behind you, you knew.

Slowly, dreading what you were about to see, you turned around.

And there he was.

Shawn Michaels.

Standing right behind you.

Smirking.

Your heart fell straight to the floor. You were so done. Absolutely finished. WWE was going to strip you of your title, fire you, and blacklist you from the industry.

Shawn crossed his arms, looking far too amused for your liking. “Whenever you’re free and ready to leave,” he said smoothly, “meet me in my dressing room.”

You nodded, entirely incapable of forming words.

He winked before walking off, leaving you frozen in place, your entire soul leaving your body.

The second he was out of earshot, the girls erupted into laughter, squealing and shaking you like you’d just won the lottery.

“You are so lucky,” Tiffany gasped, fanning herself.

Liv was practically in tears. “Oh my god, I thought you were gonna die on the spot.”

Rhea smirked, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Well, champ, looks like your childhood crush just became your reality.”

Your brain was still catching up. Shawn Michaels had heard you. Shawn Michaels wanted you to meet him.

Holy. Shit. You were in for one hell of a night.

Shawn was waiting when you stepped into his dressing room, leaning back on the couch with that signature smirk.

“You took your time,” he teased.

Your heart pounded as you shut the door. “Trying to recover from the fact that you heard all of that.”

“Oh, I heard every word, sweetheart,” he chuckled.

You groaned, covering your face. “God, that was so embarrassing.”

He pried your hands away. “Nah, I liked what I heard.” His smirk deepened. “Older men do it better, huh?”

Your face burned. “Are you gonna keep bringing that up?”

“Maybe,” he said, tilting his head. “But I think I’d rather show you instead.”

Your breath hitched, and he leaned in, voice lower now. “Where you staying tonight?”

You told him your hotel, and he hummed in approval. “Same one. I’ll drive you.”

You texted the girls telling them you’d be with him. There would be a lot to talk about in the morning.

The car ride made you nervous. You stole glances at him, watching the way his muscles flexed as he gripped the wheel. He was even hotter in person. He looked just as good, hell, even better than he did on TV. The years had only added to his appeal, roughening his edges in the best way.

“You keep looking at me like that,” he said without taking his eyes off the road, “I might just have to pull over.”

You bit your lip. "Can’t help it. You’re kinda unreal."

His smirk grew. “Come to my room tonight. I’ll give you exactly what you’ve been craving.”

Your stomach flipped.

90s Shawn Michaels had been your first love. But Shawn now? Oh, you’d let him do anything to you.

When you arrived at the hotel, people stopped to congratulate you. You took pictures, smiling through the anticipation burning inside you.

The moment the elevator doors shut, his fingers brushed your wrist. “Last chance to back out.”

“Not a chance,” you murmured.

His hotel room door had barely shut before he turned you, pressing you against it. His hands beside your head, eyes dark as they met yours.

“This what you wanted?”

Your breath caught. “I’ve dreamt about this.”

His lips crashed onto yours, stealing any response you had left. His hands gripped under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as you wrapped around him. He carried you to the bed, sinking onto it with you in his lap.

You could feel him beneath you, hard and eager, as you rocked against him. His hands roamed, mapping every inch of you, his lips never leaving yours.

“Been wanting this for years, haven’t you?” he murmured against your lips, hands roaming your body.

You nodded breathlessly, gripping onto his shoulders for balance.

His smirk returned as he cupped your face. “You’re just as sweet as I imagined.”

His lips trailed down your cheek, to your neck, pressing soft kisses that left you shivering. He moved slowly, savoring, before laying you back against the bed, hovering over you. His eyes searched yours, expression softening slightly.

“This okay?” he asked, voice quieter now.

“I want this. I want you,” you nodded, already breathless.

He exhaled slowly, his thumb tracing your cheek. “Then let me take care of you.”

His hands found the hem of your blouse, fingers toying with the fabric as he waited for your permission. When you gave it, he lifted it over your head, his gaze roaming over you with something akin to awe.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

Heat pooled in your stomach, your heart pounding as he leaned down again, pressing another kiss to your lips. He slipped you out of the rest of your clothes then pulled back, his eyes once again taking over you.

“Look at you, naked in front of me. Fucking perfect,” he said.

He knelt, making you gasp, trailing kisses until he reached your clit, spreading your legs and kissing further and further.

“You're soaked, sweetheart, so wet for me,” he murmured, using his tongue to collect your wetness and spitting it back onto your pussy.

A soft moan escaped your lips, you couldn't believe Shawn fucking Michaels was about to eat you out.

“I love those moans. Let me hear you.”

He dived in, flicking his tongue on your clit before bringing it down to your leaking hole and licking back up. His grip was firm but gentle on your thighs, spreading them wide as he continued. You couldn't believe the utter pleasure you were feeling, he was so skilled with his tongue having you squirm underneath him and moan so loudly, you feared the other wrestlers on the floor would hear.

“Oh, Shawn,” you cried, back arching off the bed.

Cocky Shawn hadn’t been lost due to the years. You could feel the smirk between your legs. “That’s it, sweetheart. Scream my name. I’m the one making you feel good.”

His tongue worked you over sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body as his blue eyes stared into yours. As his movements grew, the coil in your abdomen grew tighter, ready to burst.

“Cum on my tongue beautiful.” A loud moan left your lips and your body lifted from the bed, as he practically took your soul and you squirted onto his face, soaking him. He slurped you up like you were his last meal and you squirmed under his touch, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“You're so beautiful when you cum. You taste amazing,” he panted.

You pulled him up into a kiss, his mouth soaked in your juices. His head moved down to your breasts, suckling and moaning as your fingers clawed his back.

Shawn’s eyes never left yours as he undressed, revealing his toned chest and arms. You smiled, your heart racing as you reached out to gently touch his chest, tracing the lines of muscle with your fingertips. “You’re so so hot,” you whispered.

He let out a soft laugh. “You’re the one who’s hot, sweetheart,” he said, his hands in through your curls, tugging you closer to him.

Your lips met his again, tender and slow, savoring the moment. You pressed yourself against him, feeling his hard cock, the heat of his body matching the desire building between you. His hands were gentle but firm as he guided you to the bed, settling you back gently.

Your gaze wandered and your eyes caught his very hard cock. He was so thick, the full package. Shawn always radiated big dick energy but to see it up close and personal—veins prominent, slight curve, long—it was no wonder he acted the way he did in the 90s. He had all reason to be that cocky bastard. He was perfect.

Your mouth practically watered at the sight and you took ahold of it, hand barely able to go around and angled it towards your mouth but he stopped you.

“Not yet,” he murmured. “Tonight’s about you, about making sure you feel good.”

You nodded, heart fluttering as he hovered above you, his hands resting on either side of your head. His expression was soft, his eyes filled with nothing but admiration as he looked down at you.

He used the tip of his cock, dragging it along your wet folds as the sound of squelching filled the room. He teased you a bit more, until he slowly pushed inside, your mouth falling open as he thrusted into you. You moaned at the intrusion and looked down, only to see he was just half way in.

“Y-you’re so big,” you gasped.

“I know, but you can take it. This tight little pussy was made for my cock,” he whispered, leaning down to bite your ear lobe.

It felt like all the wind had been knocked from your lungs as he slid the rest of his length inside you. Tiny whimpers left your lips when he stilled, savoring how your walls began to welcome him in.

“See, you can take it baby, it’s okay.” He began rutting into you steadily, each time, you could feel the head of his cock brush against an area no man had ever come close to hitting before. He was so deep.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, rolling his hips to meet yours.

All you could do was moan, the overwhelming pleasure taking your ability to form coherent words.

“God, I love hearing your pretty moans,” he said, pushing your hair back.

You could barely hang on and “Shawn, cum,” was all you managed to say as you felt the pressure build up like a dam ready to burst.

“I can feel your pussy just sucking me in and gripping me. Go ahead sweetheart, cum for me, s’okay,” he cooed.

You cried out, wrapping your arms around him as he picked up his pace, the dam inside you bursting and your orgasm overtaking you. Your entire body shook and he pressed kisses on your damp forehead, slowly moving inside you to draw every last drop of cum from you.

Shawn had awaken that demon deep inside that you weren’t even aware was there. You needed more.

“I need more,” you moaned, voice shaky.

With that invitation, he increased the pace, thrusting harder and deeper. The headboard slapped against the wall under the pressure, the whole floor probably heard, your nails dug into his back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “That’s it sweetheart, scratch my back,” his gruff voice said.

You were lost in the rhythm, your breath quickening, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

He was pounding you hard and relentless, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. He pulled back slightly, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His voice was a low growl as he murmured against your mouth, “You’re all mine. Mine to fuck and use now.”

A shiver of excitement raced through you, and he continued, “I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m all yours, Shawn,” you moaned, the words flowing from your lips as if they were the only truth that mattered.

“Such a good girl.” With a gasp, your body responded to his words, pleasure washing over you in waves as you squirted, soaking him completely. Shawn groaned in response, his grip on you tightening as he felt the warmth of your release.

“That’s so hot baby, that turned you on huh,” he said, now chasing his own orgasm as your body lay shaking underneath him.

You were too fucked out to answer, each deep thrust making your pussy throb around him.

He smirked, that infamous cocky smirk, clearly proud of how he had you at his mercy. He switched his pace, slow and deep, driving you both wild. It was as though he was proving a point to you. Showing you exactly who was fucking you and how good it felt.

You wrapped your legs around him tightly for a moment, pulling him closer before releasing them, spreading wider to accommodate him. The shift allowed him to plunge deeper, each stroke igniting a raw, primal desire within you. You gasped, the sensation overwhelming, and you met his movements with your own, grinding against him as he filled you.

“Just like that,” you urged, your voice thick with passion. “Please cum inside me.”

He couldn’t take it anymore. You words sent him over the edge and with a deep, guttural moan, he bucked his hips inside you, his hot cum filling you to the brim. You moaned in satisfaction, his cock throbbing and practically breeding you from how much he came—triggered your own orgasm.

Your body jolted beneath him, shaking from the pure intensity as you both were on cloud nine together.

“I’ve got you sweetheart, fuck, I can’t get enough of this pussy. I’ve got you,” he groaned.

Your body was still buzzing, your mind hazy as you lay against the soft sheets. Shawn pressed a kiss to your temple, his hands tracing slow, soothing patterns along your bare skin.

“You were incredible,” he murmured, voice deep. “So perfect for me.”

“I think that title belongs to you,” you teased, brushing your fingers along his jaw. “I mean, I just won the Women’s Championship and spent the night with you, I’m lucky.”

Shawn chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, sweetheart, I’m the lucky one.” He kissed your forehead before slipping out of bed. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

You watched him disappear into the bathroom, and moments later, he returned with a warm cloth, carefully tending to you with the kind of gentleness that made your heart swell.

“Didn’t have to do that,” you smiled.

“I wanted to,” he replied simply.

Once he was done, he climbed back into bed, pulling you close against his chest. His arms wrapped around you securely, his body warm and solid against yours.

“You’re everything I thought you’d be,” you admitted softly, tucking your head under his chin. “And somehow even better.”

He sighed contentedly, his fingers tracing over your back. “And you’re even more perfect than I imagined,” he whispered. “Strong, talented, and so damn beautiful. I knew you were special the second I saw you wrestle.”

You smiled tiredly as you nestled further into him. The day had been surreal, from standing champion in the ring to this—wrapped up in the arms of the man who had been your childhood crush, your inspiration, and now, something more.

As your eyes grew heavier, Shawn pressed a final kiss to your hair, his voice a low murmur against your skin.

“Sweet dreams, champ.”

And with that, you let sleep take you, still wrapped in the warmth of the best night of your life.

[philtstone]

psych is goated show of all time for its hyperspecific past episode references but literally none of them gets me in hysterics on the floor like that one episode a full season after the telenovela case when lassiter and juliet go to some random russian laundromat on a lead and theres a grainy blown up picture of chad. like. printed out on printer paper. on the wall. in the laundromat. and the russian lady at the desk looks lassiter dead in the eye and says 'i want to have his babies' with so much longing

[moonpascal]

i can’t watch movies/tv shows anymore. at least older ones, because then i develop a massive crush on them, and then there is nothing written for them or very few.

[teecupangel]

Imagine if Obi-Wan kenobi came across toddler desmond while he was being all hermit like on tatooine. Or what if desmond was a part of his batchmates as initiates at the jedi temple? (ghost kenway nonny)

Desmond would be such a headache as Obi-Wan’s batchmate though. Like, that man would question everything about the Jedi Order and its teaching. His instructors would have a full hand just dealing with him but they don’t necessary think that he’s a bad egg. If anything, he’s showing how serious he is in trying to explain how a Jedi should be.

They are worried that this might lead to unsavory rumors.

And it did.

Desmond’s constant questioning of the teaching and discussing (debating) with others about the doctrine and sacred texts had led to a rumor that Desmond was a prime candidate to becoming a Sith.

Desmond knows of this and just ignores it because he knows that he won’t be tempted by the Dark Side.

That doesn’t mean he was on the Light Side though. He was narrowly tipping the line and the Brotherhood had always ‘stayed in the dark to serve the light’.

To be completely honest, Desmond knows himself enough to believe that he would probably have an easier time mastering the supposed powers the Dark Side uses but that would be it.

Using what the enemy uses against them…

If that ends with him going on a separate path from the Jedi Order then that was that.

Enter Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Nobody knows whose idea was it but Obi-Wan Kenobi, a batchmate of Desmond (no last name, orphan, unknown planet), was given the ‘mission’ as part of his training to keep an eye on Desmond. Not because they believe Desmond would become a Sith but to make sure he wasn’t isolated or felt alone.

In other words…

Obi-Wan was requested to be Desmond’s friend.

Desmond has no idea why this has happened.

Obi-Wan also has no idea why it has to be him.

But now…

They were going on a Jedi Order version of two unlikely students having a profound deep friendship in ‘highschool’.

Obi-Wan did not sign up for this.

Desmond did not want any of this.

But, my Force, were they now stuck with each other whether they like it or not.

[catgrandpa]

So I’m rewatching Psych and has anybody considered that that’s Tim Drake?

I absolutely need a fic of Tim scamming his way into police work by claiming he’s a psychic, but it’s just his regular deductive reasoning plus evidence he’s collected as Red Robin.

It’s so ridiculous that everyone looks past the part where he’s proving to be the World’s Greatest Detective 2.0, and it ends up being the perfect cover.

Brucie could never.

[mendesblurb]

We were staying in Paris

Shawn Mendes x female reader

Warning ⚠️: mostly fluff, maybe grammar error and maybe some punctuation errors

Word count:~500

A/N: The story idea and concept are classic and predictable; your girl just couldn’t help but write something inspired by this picture. Also, it’s three weeks late; better late than never? And this is my first story in 2024? 🙈 P.S. Should I write a longer and maybe some more steamy story with this picture? 🤪

——//

In the heart of Paris, in a hotel room with a balcony overlooking the city that served as the backdrop for a love story as it was unfolding in the early hours of dawn. You lay nestled in the warmth of the bed beside your boyfriend as your fingers intertwined with his. As the first tendrils of sunlight filtered through the curtains, Shawn stirred awake, his eyes blinking open to the soft glow of morning. 

He savoured the moment's stillness a little while before gently extricating himself from the embrace, slipping out of bed, and heading to the bathroom. The cool floor beneath his bare feet offers a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the bed. He was going to return to bed, but instead, he made his way to the balcony, drawn by the promise of a tranquil morning amidst the bustling city below.

As he leaned against the railing, taking in the breathtaking view before him, he couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the Parisian skyline bathed in the soft hues of dawn. The Eiffel Tower stood tall and majestic in the distance, a precious sight. Lost in thought, he reached for a cigarette, the flame casting a flickering glow on his face as he took a contemplative drag.

Unbeknownst to him, you had stirred awake in his absence, your gaze lingering on the spot where he had once laid.

There you were, quietly making your way to the balcony, and you found him lost in reverie with the smoke curling around him like a halo in the morning light. With a soft throat clearing, you announced your presence, a playful glint dancing in your eyes.

"Good morning, stranger," You greeted, voice laced with amusement as you wrapped your arms around him from behind.

A little startled, he turned to find you standing before him, a radiant smile lighting up her features as he leaned in for a kiss.

"Good morning, ma chÃrie," He greeted back before discarding his cigarette and nestling closer. It didn’t take long for his eyes to linger around you, and eventually falling upon the shirt you were wearing, a mischievous twinkle lighting up his gaze, “I believe that’s my shirt.” 

"Oh yeah, I hope you don't mind," You began, fingers tracing the fabric of the shirt, "I may have borrowed this from you,” You continued slyly as your lips curled into a grin as he took in the sight of you wearing his shirt, the fabric draping over your frame in a way that seemed almost too perfect.

"Shirt stealer," he remarked, his voice tinged with sincerity as he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Moments later, as the sun continued its ascent, casting a golden glow over the city, you both remained on the balcony, lost in each other's embrace and the beauty of the Parisian sunrise. 

"By the way, I'm never returning this shirt,” You added, breaking the silence with a mischievous grin. 

In response, Shawn just chuckled, his eyes sparkling with affection, “Thank you for letting me know," he replied, pulling  you closer than before, “But It looks better on you anyway."

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading guys... feel free to like, reblog, follow my account, leave a comment and my chat is always open for random chats or requests... appreciate every single one of you... ❤️

Taglist (open) : @monikamendes @holland-styles @bvttercupbby @lonelyreputation @badreputationlove @shawn-is-my-giant-jellybean @benito-mi-vida @swiftmendeshoran @yournameoneverypage @shawn-is-bruh @mendesbhraanth @perfectlywrongformendes @imaginashawnn @smendes-forever @nervousmendes @whenyoureadyholland @shawn-youth @myboyshawn @camilalewiss @camilalewisss @theregoesmyherojd @nanijaac1 @shawnieeboyy @silverswallow @inlovewithmendes-blog @mendeslola-blog @mendesx123 @23kofmendes @jellyloml @chipofmendes @poohofmendes @wutheringmendes @shawnmendesbuddy @chocochipcookie305 @shiningshawns

Story Code:05042409

[rainchyna]

˖⁺ ⋆ .⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙⋆｡˚ 𓂅۰˚˚｡˚⋆ ˖⁺ ⋆ .⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙⋆｡˚ 𓄹۰˚˚｡˚⋆ ˖⁺ ⋆ .⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙⋆’

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

˖⁺ ⋆ .⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙⋆｡˚ 𓂅 🐆 ⋮ series

SOUR GRAPES (1996 — 1998)

⋆ starring: SHAWN MICHAELS ⋆ HUNTER HEARST HELMSLEY ⋆ CHYNA ⋆ LITA ⋆ BRET & OWEN HART ⋆ features other WWF & WCW stars!

▷ watch here:

season one (complete)

Offer [36:19] ⋆ The Torch [21:59] ⋆ Heat [27:29]

Blurred Lines [11:11] ⋆ Wrestling War I [29:46] ⋆ It Begins [31:00]

First Defense [19:46] 🎄[1:30] ⋆ Wonderful Bullocks [25:38] ⋆

The Heartbreak Kid’s Plan [49:26] ⋆ Cherry Coke [36:40] ⋆

She’s Evil, Most Definitely [1:23:59] ⋆ Insanity Arc [26:19]

season two

Despite Everything [21:37]

more to be added.

BLACK SWAN (2014 — 2016)

⋆ starring: HUNTER HEARST HELMSLEY ⋆ THE SHIELD ⋆ STEPHANIE McMAHON ⋆ features other NXT & WWE stars!

▷ watch here: trailer

more to be added.

˖⁺ ⋆ .⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙⋆｡˚ 𓂅 🥥 ⋮ headcanons

CHANELLE’s DATING SHOW

episode one: “THE HEARTBREAK KID” — [1:35:48] ⋆ starring guest: SHAWN MICHAELS (behind the scenes)

episode two: “EXCELLENCE OF EXECUTION” — [1:20:00] ⋆ starring guest: BRET HART

episode three: “KING OF KINGS” — [1:16:48] ⋆ starring guest: HUNTER HEARST HELMSLEY

episode four: “THE LATINO HEAT” — [1:36:17] ⋆ starring guest: EDDIE GUERRERO (director’s cut)

episode five: “QUOTE THE RAVEN” — [1:00:45] ⋆ starring guest: RAVEN

episode six: “OUT OF NOWHERE” — [1:22:41] ⋆ starring guest: RANDY ORTON

episode seven: “HIDE YOUR WIVES” — [1:21:51] ⋆ starring guest: EDGE (director’s cut)

episode eight: “THE CHARISMATIC ENIGMA” — [1:05:20] ⋆ starring guest: JEFF HARDY

episode nine: “WHAT THE ROCK” — [1:59:59] ⋆ starring guest: DWAYNE JOHNSON

episode ten: “ISLAND OF RELEVANCY” — [1:46:00] ⋆ starring guest: ROMAN REIGNS

more to be added.

˖⁺ ⋆ .⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙⋆｡˚ 𓂅 🧸 ⋮ one shots

RARE COPIES ARCHIVE

tape one: “LEARN TO SHARE” — [25:00] ⋆ directed by: BRET HART & SHAWN MICHAELS

tape two: “DO NOT KLIQ” — [17:00] ⋆ directed by: SHAWN MICHAELS, KEVIN NASH, SCOTT HALL, HUNTER HEARST HELMSLEY, SEAN WALTMAN.

tape three: “COME EXECUTE THIS” — [10:00] ⋆ directed by: BRET HART

tape three: “RATED ‘R’ SUPERSTAR” — [10:00] ⋆ directed by: EDGE

tape four: “PLAY MY GAME” — [10:00] ⋆ directed by: HUNTER HEARST HELMSLEY

tape five: “PENT UP” — [35:00] ⋆ directed by: SHAWN MICHAELS

more to be modified and added.

[goofalicousgooberface]

Who wants to be psych mutuals and be insane about them..

[centipede-rain]

Writers of the german Psych dub: COME ON. Are you serious?? Shawn wouldn't use formal you EVER. Does he exude polished politeness to you. elegant, impersonal distance. does he. DOES HE

[strangenewwords]

Shassie still a thing?

[limeskittlesaredecent]

i wish Psych made Shawn suffer more. sorry but i like it when my favorite characters are subject to massive amounts of whump :(

like i really enjoy 4x09 (Shawn Takes a Shot in the Dark) and 7x01 (Santabarbaratown 2) in particular bc they’ve got the physical and emotional pain. The Yin/Yang saga is excellent ofc.

that being said. this is why fan fiction exists 😄

if anyone has any h/c psych fic recs… i would love to see them :)

[secretobsessionstuff]

Hi hi, I love your work :D Never really got the nerve to send an ask in to say that tbh. If you don't mind, I have a request for a scenario you could possibly do B) No pressure though!! (If you do end up writing this I don't have a preference for any specific characters, but I'm soft for male characters.)

I'm so soft for scenes where a character is sick, but whoever they tell just don't believe them. I'm also soft for when a character coughs hard enough to get sick. If possible could you write something combining those? Or even just one or the other would be great too!! Thanks :D

Thank you for the request and the kind words!! I'm going with the first option because I too am soft for disbelieving caretakers.

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

Shawn was a man of culture. In the Canadian museum of history, he thoroughly admired every bench, chair, and sofa with his scholarly behind. The current gallery boasted an impressive collection of fucking postage stamps. Shawn dropped his head into his hands with an exaggerated huff. Kill me now.

A mass of whining school children flocked past him, not giving a second thought to the pale and lifeless man lounging on the bench. His boyfriend was lost somewhere in the sea of families and tour groups, probably admiring the royal collection of [redacted]. Shawn didn’t care anymore. He wanted to go back to the Airbnb. 

“Are you going to sulk the entire time?” Mateo had asked as the two of them received their admission tickets. 

“I’m not sulking,” Shawn sulked.  

“Yeah, okay.” Mateo walked further on ahead, determined to enjoy the one event he had specifically requested. “I just wish you would get excited over things I care about.” 

Shawn scrunched his eyes up tight, tired of hearing this. “Hon, you know I care.” His voice was weepy with an edge of annoyance. “I told you, I’m just not feeling up to this.” 

“I recall,” Mateo said, not looking back. “Your malaise came on at such a convenient time.” 

It wasn’t Shawn’s fault that his stomach decided to reject breakfast at precisely that time. He couldn’t control the churning in his gut. The eggs and hashbrowns he had eaten earlier floated in a bath of grease in his belly. He swore he could hear the chirping of baby chicks that did not appreciate being digested. They cried out in his stomach, cursing him for scrambling their potential lives. 

A growing pocket of air forced Shawn into a sitting position. As he straightened his spine, the burp easily rose in his chest. The belch filled his mouth with the taste of sulphur, making him shiver. For the next ten minutes, he concentrated on settling his stomach. He was so lost in thoughts of nausea and discomfort that he did not notice Mateo had approached him. 

“Onto the next exhibit, then.” Mateo waited for Shawn to get up. He seemed almost nonchalant, but underneath it was a longing to experience the museum with his boyfriend. He wanted to hold Shawn’s hand as they walked through the halls. Unfortunately, Shawn kept his hands in his pockets and his head tucked into his neck. “I’m sorry the morning is boring for you. I promise we’ll do something fun later.” 

“I’m not bored, Teo,” Shawn mumbled in between burps. He pressed his fist into his mouth, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “This isn’t my first choice of activity, but I really do want you to enjoy it.” 

Mateo swung his hand at his side, purposefully touching his boyfriend’s arm. “I want to enjoy it with you.” 

“I know.” He smiled sadly. “But I am honestly feeling…Just blah.” 

“Blah?” 

“Blahughuh, in fact.” Shawn forced a smirk that didn’t stick because he felt a ripple of nausea move through his belly. “It’s just my stomach—it’s so gurgly and full.” 

“Maybe it will settle down after one more exhibit.” 

“Maybe.” 

“Well, then you will definitely start feeling better after two more exhibits.” 

“…Mateo.” 

“What?” Mateo said playfully, still not totally taking his boyfriend seriously. “Give it two more exhibits. Your stomach probably just needs time to digest. If you still feel bad after that, then we’ll leave.” 

Shawn did not think that was a good idea, but he let his boyfriend run ahead to the next gallery. He lagged behind like a parent watching their child enjoy themselves. He would have smiled at the way Mateo absorbed himself in the history and culture that so many people dismissed, but a smile would not come to his lips. He kept his mouth pressed into a hard line to keep the nausea at bay. 

Something was horribly wrong in his stomach. The queasiness made his throat feel like it was blocked by a lump of clay. How long was Mateo going to take? Shawn didn’t know how much longer he could last. He walked at a zombie-like pace through the gallery, keeping a hand on his bloated middle. Something squirmed beneath his palm. He imagined bright yellow worms, the colour of scrambled eggs, writhing in his belly. 

Saliva filled his mouth, flooding his tongue with a warm, uncomfortable feeling. Fuck, where was Mateo? Shawn staggered about, feeling his jaw grow heavy. His whole body was telling him to get out of there. 

He found his boyfriend in the corner of the exhibit, reading an informational poster on the wall next to colourful minerals. 

“Teo?” he said after swallowing thickly. The mouthful of thick saliva came right back. “I want to leave now.” 

“Fine.” Mateo sighed, not yet looking at Shawn. “Give me two minutes.” 

Shawn whimpered. He did not have two minutes. His belly gave him two seconds after belching wetly into his hand before it forced its contents up his throat. He braced himself on the wall as a deep retch overtook him. 

Sludgy vomit fell past his lips, splattering on the floor with a wet squelching sound. Nearby people gasped and quickly deserted the area. Shawn put another hand against the wall as his back arched again. There was no stopping this now that it started. 

“Whoa shit,” Mateo said, quickly turning around to take in the sight of his heaving boyfriend. A puddle of pale brown chunks had formed at Shawn’s feet. He placed a gentle hand between Shawn’s shoulder blades. “Oh babes, I’m so sorry.” 

Shawn wanted to say something acidic, but his mouth was again filled with chunky sick. He parted his lips to let the rush of vomit join the growing mess. His poor belly gurgled and constricted. Tears clouded Shawn’s vision. He couldn’t stop the flood from coming. Everything had to come up. 

“Ugh, I can’t stop.” Shawn gagged. He sniffled and wiped at his face before the second gag proved productive. More of the bitter tasting crap came up from the burbling pit of his belly. A sob broke free in between bouts. Drool and snot hung from his chin. 

Mateo’s heart squeezed in his chest. “Shh, Shawn, babe. It’ll be over soon.” 

These cooing words did not fix anything. It did not stop Shawn from gagging, nor did it ease the ache in Mateo’s chest. The mess on the floor was his fault. The sobbing mess of a man was also his fault. None of this would have happened if Mateo had listened the first time. They could have been in a private area, probably curled up in each other’s lap, but no. He decided to prolong his boyfriend’s suffering. 

Finally, Shawn coughed and cleared his throat. His chest rose rapidly in attempt to take in more air. “Ugh God.” The words glued to his throat, coming out wet and thick. “That fucking sucked. I feel disgusting.” 

Mateo rubbed his boyfriend’s shaking back. “Come on. Let’s clean you up in the bathroom.” 

They turned around to find a janitor wheeling a mop bucket in their direction. Shawn’s face turned red, and he allowed himself to be ushered away by Mateo. He pushed the embarrassment deep down and clung to his boyfriend for good measure. 

“So, this is what Blahughuh means,” Mateo said while he wiped Shawn’s face with a wet paper towel. 

Shawn hiccupped and mumbled, “I thought I made myself pretty clear.” 

“You did. I’m sorry.” Mateo rubbed his thumb softly over Shawn’s cheek. “I should have taken you more seriously.” 

“Yeah, I shouldn’t need to puke everywhere for you to listen.” Shawn winced at the spasm that went through his belly. “I might need to go again.” 

Mateo raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What did you do to your poor stomach? Did that breakfast place poison you?” 

“That’s a very possible…possibility.”

Mateo pouted at his grey-ish looking boyfriend. He kissed his forehead. “Time to go. I'll get you a bag for the car.” 

“Five more minutes?” 

Mateo smacked his arm. “Stop, I hate myself.”