#lassie fic

[wearethefandomsthatwaited]

Vagos pt.3 - Play nice ... or not

Part 1 Lassiter? More like Assiter!

Part 2 In the Chief's office

The medic clears her after a grueling thirty minutes of anesthetic-less stitchwork — even a local anesthetic would have sufficed — ordering her to rest, and to get the wound properly looked at in the hospital. Like that’s going to happen, she thinks, pushing off from her lean on the table, thankful that her gun holster is no longer digging into her back. She moves to give Smith, who is crouched over packing his equipment, a handshake. When she notices the blood still clinging to her fingers, she thinks better of it, opting to send the medic a nod, and a quick ‘ thank you’ instead. Jewel exits the conference room to the sound of Smith whistling some Top 40’s pop song, smiling to herself when he misses a note. 

She takes slow steps, eyes searching as she walks. She spots a uniform exiting the restroom, and heads that way, wanting to scrub her hands clean. The fluorescents of the bathroom do her no favors, highlighting the dark shadows under her eyes, and the even darker bruise blooming across her cheek. Jewel grimaces at her reflection, wanting nothing more than to shower the dust and grime away. She scrubs her hands, taking care to scrape blood from under her fingernails, until they’re pink from the hot water. After a moment's hesitation, she bends to wash her face, wiping the blood from her split lip, and eyebrow. She hears the thud of a utility belt being hooked on a stall, as she pats her face dry, studying herself in the mirror. 

Not my best , she thinks, licking her split lip, but definitely better than all that heavy makeup . Even without last night’s makeup, she looks a far cry better than she had walking into the precinct this morning, which is saying something given the impressive black eye and bruise high on her cheekbone.

She exits the restroom with a sigh, carefully slipping back into her leather jacket as she enters the bullpen on her journey to leave. She stops in her tracks when she spots Lassiter and O’Hara working at their desks, rerouting towards them, instead. Home, well the dingy apartment she’s undercover at, and blissful sleep.. after writing up my report, of course …will have to wait. She stops in front of Lassiter’s desk, standing patiently with her hands clasped behind her back. After a moment of him ignoring her, her boot begins tapping impatiently on the tile, eyes trained on his salt and pepper hair as he bends over a file.

She bites her tongue, hard breath pushing out of her nose, before turning away. “ Carlton ,” O’Hara chides, disapprovingly at her partner. Jewel makes a step towards the female detective’s desk, before turning slightly, pausing as Lassiter finally looks up, at his partner first, then locks eyes with Jewel.

With a put-upon sigh, his narrowed eyes piercing under his furrowed brow, he finally growls, “What do you want?” Jewel scoffs. So much for trying to smooth things out , she thinks, shaking her head before fully making her way towards O’Hara’s desk, watching as Lassiter throws his arms up, out of the corner of her eye. 

“Detective O’Hara,” Jewel nods amicably, projecting her voice enough that Lassiter can hear, a slight smile pulling at her split lip. “I figured it would be beneficial if the team saw the case file I’ve been putting together.” She glances at Detective Lassiter, who perks up at her words, face blank. “Would you like access to my files? I have them backed up securely online.” She and the other female detective share a smile, before O’Hara nods, moving to raise from her desk chair. “Oh no, please, sit. Sit . I’m sure you’re on your feet enough around here.” Jewel ignores the protest she can see forming on the blonde detective's kind face, opting to walk around the desk instead, so they both face the screen. 

Jewel leans over, fighting a wince at the stretch, as she logs into the encrypted site, ignoring the asinine argument about breakfast cereals that Spencer and Guster are having across the desk. Personally, she thinks cocoa puffs far outshine fruit loops , but she’s not going to entertain the discussion… not outwardly anyway, she has a reputation to maintain, afterall. She prompts O’Hara to enter her work email so that she can share the files to the computer. While she’s at it, she interrupts the debate, eyes turning to Guster, “What’s your email?”

“What about mine?” Spencer questions, offended. Guster puffs out his chest, a sneer on his face as he looks from her to Spencer. The two suck their teeth at each other, much like when she first arrived this morning, before Guster punches Spencer in the arm, promptly shutting him up. The psychic , she doesn’t buy it, whines, hand clutching his bicep. 

“I trust his internet security more than yours, Spencer.” Jewel hears a soft snort behind her, turning to find Assiter a few paces away, nonchalantly rifling through a filing cabinet. She rolls her eyes, turning back to the computer to share the files with the psychic duo. After a few moments of listening to Guster’s boasting over Spencer’s whining, she tunes her focus to behind her, listening to files rhythmically moving back and forth, scraping against the metal. “ Head Detective Lassiter ,” she drawls out, “would you like to deign us with your presence, and be granted access to my files?” 

“Might as well,” he replies, an air of nonchalance to his deep voice, as he slams the drawer to the filing cabinet, hands empty. She’s barely brought up the sharing page, before he’s bodily forcing her out of the way, leaning past her to type in his email. The jostling causes her to bump into the desk, the connection sending a jolt of pain up her abdomen. Gritting her teeth, she hums, forcing a steadying breath through her nose. Prick . 

“How bad is it,” O’Hara questions, kindly, motioning toward her stomach. Lassiter’s typing pauses for a moment as he, haughtily, glances back at Jewel, before he returns to his task. She shrugs, forcing the pain down, as she takes a step away from the Head Detective’s proximity.

“Stitching would’ve been better with some numbing cream, but a broken beer bottle can only do so much damage.”

“That is so cool,” Spencer exclaims, earning a glare from O’Hara and Guster.

Jewel chuckles around a wince. “It wasn’t cool when they smashed it on my face before stabbing me with it, but I agree…pretty cool.” They all freeze, even Assiter, turning to look at her with wide eyes. Spencer is the only one to smile back at her, offering her a fist bump, which she hesitantly returns, before he makes an explosion noise.

“Badass,” he beams, giving her a suggestive once over. She smirks back at him, before turning back to the others, who still seem perturbed.

“Oh, before I forget,” she starts, pulling out both of her phones, “I’ll need your contacts.” She steps around the desk, handing her work phone down the line, “this is the undercover one, so don’t use your full names, and please never use my name.” They finish going down the line, exchanging numbers, before she passes her second phone to repeat the process. “This is my personal, I guess, for normal working matters. I don’t carry it when undercover, so you might have to try both phones sometimes. And my name,” she air quotes, rolling her eyes, “is Gem , so it’s easy to remember, though all the bikers call me Brandy.” If it were her choice, it would have been something much cooler, but unfortunately, the ATF created the cover without her input. Maybe next time. 

“Really, Gem , and Brandy ” Lassiter intones, head rolling forward over his crossed arms, dark brows raised. “ Classy .” His sarcasm is thick, a mild contempt dripping from his cold voice. “Pretty sure I’ve arrested a few of those.”

“Wasn’t my choice,” she replies, straightening to look him in the eyes, “but don’t worry Head Detective , they’re supposed to sound like stripper names, it’s my backstory,” she sneers. They glare at one another, Jewel refusing to back down to the Head Detective’s cold eyes. She feels victory blooming in her chest when an angry flush starts to spread upwards on his neck. The reverie is broken, however, when she feels a large, warm hand tap her shoulder. She sends one last narrow-eyed glare, before turning to see the tall, dark haired officer from before.

He smiles at her widely, apprehension on his face, as he holds out a disposable coffee cup. “Thought you might need this.” She takes it from him gratefully, a small smile gracing her lips at his gangly great-dane puppy energy. “I didn’t know how you take it, so I figured a cream and sugar should be safe,” he pauses, eyes widening, “unless you're lactose intolerant, oh man .”

She cuts him off before he can fret too long, sipping at the hot coffee. “It’s perfect, and surprisingly thoughtful… Officer McNabb, was it?”

He nods, extending a hand to shake, “Yup, Buzz McNabb.”

“Detective Stewart,” she smiles, “Now, McNabb, is there a firing range here? And if so, could you help a girl out and lead the way?” The officer enthusiastically nods, stepping back to allow her to grab her phones, log out of the encrypted site, and nod a goodbye. 

“Shouldn’t you be going to relax,” O’Hara questions, concern in her kind blue eyes. 

“That’s what I’m doing.” Jewel chuckles, shaking O’Hara’s hand before sending a wink Spencer and Guster’s way, steadfastly ignoring the Head Detective’s eyes following her. Yes , she thinks, shooting off a few rounds is just what I need to relieve some stress .

“Wow Lassie,” Guster states disapprovingly, as she walks away.

“Lassiter, you simple, lanky, irishman,” Spencer continues, voice fading as she follows McNabb away, “You talked to her for less than an hour, and she already needs to shoot things.” 

Jewel chuckles around a mouthful of coffee. She can’t hear Lassiter’s reply, but can imagine the disdainful remark he surely throws her way. As if I'm the one who started it, Assiter.

[strangenewwords]

Shassie still a thing?

[angelwiththeblue-box]

shassie fanfic writers need to take more advantage of the lie detector the hurt/comfort could be so could

[thedollopheadofcamelot]

I just realized a thing

This:

And this:

​(Anyway someone should make a Kurofai Psych AU of some kind or something with Detective Kurogane and pseudo psychic/psychic Fai…)

[the-oc-lass]

Nimona OC - Charlotte Swiftheart/Corova: Shadows and Gold

*Crawls out of my pit of lacking motivation* I HAVE RETURNED. CHARLOTTE'S BACK!

I'm so sorry it took me so long to write this first chapter! As that opening suggested, I've been really struggling to feel motivated to do...Well, just about everything. But I'm starting to get back into it (I'm almost done with the next page of my comic, so I should hopefully be able to post that before the end of the day)! Hoping to get out one more chapter and post some more art before I go on vacation on the 28th, but we'll have to see.

The first chapter of my new Charlotte fic, Shadows and Gold, is now on Ao3! Please enjoy Chapter 1: As My World Burns!

A quick summary in case you've forgotten what the hell this fic is actually about (it's been a hot second since I mentioned it): Six years before the Knighting Ceremony, Queen Valerian has been murdered. Having been framed for the queen's murder, Charlotte Corova is forced to flee from the Institute along with her half-brother, Ambrosius Goldenloin. While the duo struggles to survive as the kingdom hunts them down, friends and allies search for the truth to clear their names.

Lovely tagged people:

@sadgalwrites @floxu @em10-nimonafan2009

[starfish-spencer]

Words: 1,907

General Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: Lassie wants to ask Jules a very serious question. Shawn isn't sure how to feel about this.

Jules and Lassie friendship fic yay!

Fic under the cut

“Thank you everyone, make sure to send in the reports by noon. And Dobson, I need a statement from everyone who had clocked into the store on Tuesday morning. We need this case closed ASAP.” Chief Vick clicked off the projector and the SBPD employees slowly started to make their way out of the room. Apparently not too many of them understood the meaning of ASAP. 

Shawn yawned and glanced at Gus. He had solved the case in the first few minutes of the meeting. The owner of the store had been committing tax fraud and when one of his employees accidentally discovered his little scheme, the owner murdered her. It was pretty obvious, at least to Shawn. He would just go have a “revelation” to Chief Vick and Psych could collect their much-needed case paycheck. Shawn had set his eyes on an air fryer for the office, and the only one big enough to fit a whole pineapple in it was two-hundred and fifty dollars. 

The reason why Shawn hadn’t already had a “vision” and ended the meeting early was standing next to Chief Vick wearing a gray pantsuit and a pink blouse. These meetings were just an hour–long opportunity for Shawn to stare dreamily at Juliet O’Hara, and he didn’t want to cut that time short. 

He loved noticing things about her: her silver earrings, the way she scrunched up her nose when she was thinking, her little smile when Chief Vick brought attention to her exquisite detective work. Shawn dreamed about taking her out to one of those fancy restaurants where they fold your napkin like a boat and kissing her under the streetlights. Maybe being a man who owned an air fryer would increase his romantic appeal.

Everyone had cleared out of the room except for Shawn, who had been lost in his thoughts of Jules and fried pineapples, and Lassiter, who had been hanging back fiddling with his tie. Instead of walking out the door, he awkwardly approached Shawn and stared at the floor in front of him.

“Hey Spencer, can I talk to you? In private?”

Completely caught off guard, Shawn stared at the detective with his mouth open. His first instinct was to look behind him to see if there was another Spencer that Lassie was talking to. But he and the detective were the only two people in the room. Lassiter was looking past Shawn’s side now, still not making eye contact.

“Uh, sure? Sure thing, Lassie. We can talk,” Shawn said, shaking his head slightly to clear the shock. “Is everything okay?”

Lassiter finally looked forward and met Shawn’s eyes. His brows were furrowed and he looked paler than usual, something Shawn didn’t think was possible. He was also shifting back and forth on his feet and still playing with his tie. He looked nervous.

“It's about O’Hara,” he said quietly. “I want to ask her a question and I'm worried that she'll say no. I require a second opinion, and, as much as I hate to say this, you might… probably… be useful. Maybe.”

A question? A sense of dread filled Shawn, making his face and the back of his neck burn. He could only think of one reason Lassie would be acting like this. 

Shawn silently cursed himself. He had waited too long to tell Jules about his true feelings, and now Lassie was going to ask her out. This might be the worst possible scenario he could think of.

Lassiter was staring at him waiting for a response. Shawn just nodded. It wasn’t often that the psychic was at a loss for words, but he couldn’t think of anything to say that would make this situation better.

“Alright. Meet me in interrogation room B in five minutes,” Lassiter said.

Shawn nodded again, internally screaming. He walked out of the room and grabbed Gus, who was helping McNab pick up some dropped papers off the floor. Gus yelped in pain as Shawn aggressively hauled him up and dragged him to the stairwell.

“Dude, what’s your problem?”

Shawn sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Lassie just told me that he wants to ask Jules a serious question and he wants my opinion on it, for some reason. I—I think he's gonna try to shoot his shot with her.”

Gus’s face softened. Shawn’s feelings for Jules were no secret to him. “Oh.”

“I’ve spent two years imagining us together but I’ve been too much of a commitment–phobe to actually tell her that. When I try to make a move all that comes out are jokes and The Breakfast Club references and ‘close talking.’ I want to kiss her for real, Gus! She probably thinks this is just some immature game to me. And now it’s too late. I can’t believe Lassie’s gonna get her instead!”

“Get her?” Gus raised his eyebrows. “Wow, Shawn. She's her own person, you know. Maybe she's into Lassie and not you. You’ll just have to deal with that. Or, more realistically,” — he held his finger up — “maybe she doesn't want either of you.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Shawn groaned. “I'm just  worried. I mean, those two are always hanging out together and talking and stuff. They do get along really well. I might have lost my chance forever.”

Gus nodded empathetically. “Well, you said Lassie wants your opinion on it. Go find out.” He patted Shawn on the back and walked back over to continue helping a struggling McNab, who had dropped his papers a second time.

Shawn walked down the stairs to interrogation room B. He was dreading this conversation. He stopped outside the room to collect his thoughts, but immediately hated all the thoughts that were running through his head and flung the door open loudly to stop them.

Lassiter was pacing the room, scratching the fabric of his tie again. He was jittery and breathing faster than normal. Oh god, he really is nervous about this, Shawn thought. Lassie cared about Jules, really really cared about her. Shawn’s stomach did another flip.

“Spencer,” Lassiter acknowledged, jumping slightly at the sound of the metal door slamming open.

“Hey, Lassie,” Shawn muttered, leaning on the table and trying not to sound as devastated and jealous as he was feeling. “What did you wanna talk about?” 

Lassiter shuffled around awkwardly. “Okay so, O’Hara and I, we've known each other for a while now. And I don't want to be too… forward by asking her to be my—”

“Uh, the spirits say that's a bad idea!” Shawn interrupted, putting his fingers to his forehead. He didn’t even want to hear the next words out of Lassie’s mouth. “A bad, bad idea! I don’t think it’s right for either of you right now.” 

Lassiter’s face fell and his shoulders slumped.

"You—you don't think she'll want to be my friend?"

Oh shit.

“Wh—” Shawn paused, his fingers still halfway raised. "You were going to ask her to be your… friend?"

Lassiter sighed and waved his hand idly. "Well, I refer to her as my 'coworker' or 'associate' now, but I wanted to ask if she’d be okay with me calling her my 'friend.' Or maybe you’re right, I'm jumping into this too fast. I don’t want to put any pressure on her—”

“Hold up, you just wanted to ask her to be friends? That’s all?” Shawn dropped his arms back to his sides. “Have you ever… had a friend before?”

Lassiter shrugged. “I'm only thirty–nine.” 

Shawn had so many questions about that statement that he elected to just not ask at all. He didn’t have the time to unpack Lassie’s misconception that not experiencing friendship until your thirties was the norm.

“It’s just… I’m asking you, Spencer. I don’t believe for a second that you’re psychic, but you’re a very social person. And I’m… not. I can’t exactly ‘read’ people, and situations. Normally, I disagree with everything you say, but if you could just tell me what you think…” His voice trailed off as he started to look more panicked. “Do you think she'll say no? She's probably going to say no."

“No, no, no, the spirits misunderstood! They were wrong, very wrong, and confused!” Shawn cried, desperate to backtrack and save the conversation. “Don't listen to the spirits. You two are already friends. Best friends. Platonic friends. Just… nothing more than that.”

Lassiter stared at Shawn with wide eyes. “Best friends? Do you think we're at that level yet?”

"Lass, she has you in her phone as 'Bestie,' with a little heart emoji."

"Really!” Lassiter smiled and ran his hand up and down his tie, smoothing it out, but it was more of an excited motion than the nervous fidgeting he was doing before. 

“Seriously man, you’re definitely overthinking this,” Shawn reassured him.

Apparently he had been overthinking, too. He felt relieved. Of course Lassie wasn’t in love with Jules. She was just a true and genuine friend to him, and Lassie wanted to make sure he was doing this friendship thing right. Shawn reached out and patted the detective on the shoulder. 

“She really loves you, buddy, trust me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I got a case to solve and an air fryer to purchase.” 

Lassiter didn’t even seem to be upset that Shawn had beat him at the case. Still beaming, he walked out of the interrogation room, stopping at the door to mutter an “Um, thanks Spencer.”

Shawn started to make his way back up to the Chief’s office, relieved that he had nothing to worry about, and maybe even a little bit touched by how comically serious Lassie was being about the subject. Gus spotted Shawn walking up the stairs and ran over to him.

“You look pleased. Don’t tell me you sabotaged their relationship before it even got started!”

“Gus, don’t be the pair of broken Heelys I lost three years ago. There’s no relationship. It wasn’t about that at all. Lassie’s just kind of… inexperienced in the friendship department.”

“Ohhhh.” Gus chuckled and tilted his head in a “yeah, that checks out” motion. “Well, maybe now you’re motivated to finally tell Jules you love her?”

“I don’t know about that,” Shawn said. “But I think I’m going to invite her to that new burger place on State Street. Pay for the bill and refrain from launching ketchup packets at people and whatnot. You know, show her I can be mature.” 

He held out his fist. “Baby steps.”

“Baby steps,” Gus repeated, returning the fist bump. 

As the two waltzed into Chief Vick’s office to procure their air–fryer funds, Shawn noticed Lassie talking to Jules at her desk. Jules had a half–smile of confusion as she listened to Lassie nervously ask for her hand in friendship. Then she smiled brightly and said something Shawn couldn’t quite hear before pulling Lassie down into a tight hug. Lassie grinned and awkwardly put his arms around her, hugging her back.

Shawn smiled. He was glad they had each other. He knew that one day he would have the courage to tell Jules how much he loved her, to support her and give her everything wonderful she deserved. But until then, she had Lassie to watch her back. 

It was something they had in common, after all. Lassie loved Jules as much as Shawn did, just in a different way.

[princesscolumbia]

Peanut Butter...Chocolate...Lyctoral Consumption...Murder?

So I just got done reading an interesting examination of a moment in Nona the Ninth where Alecto emerges from the depths of Nona's consciousness and chastises Pyrra "I'm not the Lyctor, I'm the (he) Or (she) who Lyct Up" Dve. It was good, it was solid, and it was done with the understanding that OP didn't know for sure as they're not Tasmuir.

So you can imagine what a baseball bat to the head it was to see a Psych AU post where Shawn is dead and haunting Gus.

So guess what fell out of the piñata that is my imagination:

Shawn and Gus were born on the Sixth. They weren't supposed to be doing anything with the lyctoral process, but you know how Shawn is...and Gus is always a step behind. You know how they're "Ride or Die"? Well, Shawn is just smart enough ("...a brilliant mind with no impulse control." -Palamedes, who upon meeting Gideon is eternally but silently grateful that she and Shawn never met) piece together how to become a lyctor just from the available material and a few clever questions to the currently living lyctors without ever stepping foot in Canaan House. Because Shawn's knowledge and understanding of the process is SUPER limited, even more so than Ianthe's when she ate Naberius, they're unaware that one of them's gonna die as part of the process, and it's not going to be the necromancer...which is Gus.

Gus goes along with it because he knows Shawn is going to loop in some other more gullible adept and doesn't want anyone to be dealing with Shawn on one of his hyperfixations that isn't used to dealing with him.

Things are going well...until they aren't, and Shawn realizes he's gonna die, but he figures out how to modify the process while they're in the middle of a failed ascension and they become a lyctor...sorta.

Shawn winds up 'haunting' a now ungodly powerful and immortal Gus. Shawn's spirit is inhabiting Gus' body at the same time as Gus' spirit is "consuming" Shawn's, but since Shawn isn't a braindead result of a transference that's intended to be strictly one way, Shawn is 'eating' Gus' spirit at the same time, creating a cycle where both are feeding each other in perfect lyctoral harmony. They don't twig the Resurrection Beasts because "sin" =/= "dumbass fuckup" and Shawn isn't, strictly speaking, dead. It's a symbiosis rather than a parasitic relationship.

So here these two dumbasses are, neo-lyctors, standing over Shawn's dead body. They figure out that they're going to be so screwed if they're caught and someone figures out what they did, so they destroy the body and bug out as fast as possible...

...landing in the midst of BoE on one of the non-Empire human-occupied systems. They're doing their best to lay low and not twig anyone to the fact that they're from the Empire (Gus, thanks to the neo-lyctorhood, looks like a fine, fit, and dare we say sexy man, so nobody pegs him for a necromancer) and Shawn figures out how to do a fancy kinda-sorta projection where he can actually interact with the physical world while still bonded to Gus.

One day there's a murder nearby and Shawn sees all the clues to figure out who-dun-it, and Gus is all, "Naw, man, they're gonna pick us out as Imperial the second those cops see us!"

Shawn, of course, does everything possible to draw attention to the clues, which catches the attention of (you guessed it) Lassie and his partner. Lasiter is suspicious but can't prove anything because the usual 'tells' for a necromancer or lyctor aren't turning anything up. Shawn feeds Gus some line about some grandparent from a few generations back being an expat from the Empire and so Gus is "able to receive messages from the spirit realm" (just Shawn, obvi) and because they can't prove there's a more direct connection to the Empire than that, the police are forced to let Gus go.

Things play out fairly similar to the pilot of Psych from that point forward, but with Gus having to be the point-man for the whole thing while Shawn is getting better and better at manipulating the world around him, including being able to visually manifest by the time Juliet arrives on-planet. She's one of the refugees of a planet destroyed by a lyctor and is absolutely the best officer ever when it comes to hunting down necros...but since none of her tools or experience include anything like what Shawn and Gus have become, she doesn't figure it out for several years, by which point she's fallen in love with Shawn.

Until we get AtN, I have no idea how this would shake out, but my ideal scenario is somehow Paul and Kirona wind up on this BoE planet that Shawn and Gus are on.

[sapphosclown]

Pink Ladies AU except they’re cowboys so they’re called the Pink Lassies

[gay-poet-gabriel]

i just read an agere fic where shawn needed his calico critters and aoguh...ough...so me...oguhgouhgh...

@crow2222

[juliets-roller-derby-awesomeness]

THERES A DESPEREAUX EPISODE NEXT

but it's 3:45 am and i need to sleep

but shawn wanted to propose

but that scene of them kissing in the doorway

but despereaux

but he drunk dialed her and asked her to move in

but he wants to go to ikea

[kingtry]

i won't say (i'm in love)

Author: brutongaster (poison_angels) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Fandom: Psych Relationships: Carlton Lassiter/Shawn Spencer Language: English Stats: 1 Chapter (Completed)

Summary:

“Don’t.” Spencer mumbles, so quiet he has to strain his ears to hear it. “What?” Spencer groans, eyes flickering open as he looks directly at Carlton, though his eyes are glassy and barely focused. “Don’t go,” He whispers, hand still wrapped around Carlton’s wrist, “Please.”

---

When Shawn shows up to work with a migraine, Carlton doesn't understand why he feels a sudden responsibility to take care of the man.

Autor: brutongaster (poison_angels) Clasificación: Audiencias adolescentes y mayores Fandom: Psych Relaciones: Carlton Lassiter/Shawn Spencer Idioma: Inglés Estado: 1 Capítulo (Terminada)

Resumen:

"No lo hagas". Spencer murmura, tan bajo que tiene que forzar el oído para oírlo. "¿Qué?" Spencer gime, con los ojos abiertos y mirando directamente a Carlton, aunque los tiene vidriosos y apenas enfocados. "No te vayas", susurra, con la mano todavía alrededor de la muñeca de Carlton, "Por favor".

---

Cuando Shawn llega al trabajo con migraña, Carlton no entiende por qué siente la repentina responsabilidad de cuidar de él.

Divisores de  cafekitsune

[crookedcherryblossoms]

Droplets- a love letter

(THIS CONTAINS POTENTIAL SPOILERS IF YOU INTEND TO READ THIS FIC SO BEWARE!!)

okay so I've been thinking about Droplets by @the-prophet-lemonade (Lucy) it's more than just a summer read. It's like we're getting into the raw emotional diary entries of this kid Jean right on the edge of adulthood. We're getting this really intimate look at what's going on inside his head, not just what's happening around him.

The thing that really jumps out at me right from the beginning is the pool. It's always there, looming large, almost like it's a character itself. You can tell it's not just someplace to cool off for Jean. It represents something. Something more. The way he reacts to it- "The water is cold, the way it laps against my ankle-bones literally the most disgusting thing I've ever felt" Intense much? Like it's just water. But for Jean, it clearly goes deeper. It's like the pool with its reflections and depths, which are like a metaphor for what's going on inside of him, and it's not always reflecting back something pretty. It reminds me of the feeling of when you're really drawn to something but it also kinda scares you a little. Like the hesitation right before you jump into the deep end. That push and pull is something I think we all grapple with, especially at that age when you're trying to figure yourself out. Who you are what you want. It's a lot. Speaking of complicated though, let's talk about Jean's parents for a bit. It's like whiplash, he's super affectionate with his mom one minute, even when he's frustrated. But with his dad, it's all tension. There's walking on eggshells. It's this unspoken baggage between them( despite us knowing whats really going on). It really makes you think about how families- especially our relationships with our parents, can shape how we interact with everyone else. Like are we ever really free of that need for approval? Especially from our dads- it's like no matter what you do it's never enough. Or maybe that's just me projecting. But I do think it's a pretty universal experience. That longing for validation from the people who are supposed to love us unconditionally. And when it's not there or we perceive it's not there it can really mess you up. Speaking of messing things up: enters Marco, the pool cleaner. Talk about shaking things up.

Marco just strolls in and upends Jean's whole world, he's so different from anyone else in Jean's life, so comfortable in his own skin. You can feel that energy, that difference is really unsettling Jean. in a good way though! Marco is this catalyst forcing Jean to confront those insecurities we were talking about. It's like the line where Jean says "He knows exactly where to dig to pull me out of the hole I've dug for myself over the years because I haven't yet learned how to drag myself out alone." Dang Jean! Tell us how you really feel. He sees something in Marco he wants, that strength, but he's also kinda terrified of it. (again- the hesitation before jumping) And of course, that's where the tension comes in. You can feel it practically radiating off the page. Those stolen glances, the awkward encounters. It's electric. And Lucy milks it for all its worth trust me. Just when you think it can't be more intense we get hit with the bombshell with Jean's dad! Don't even get me started on the dad., talk about a recipe for disaster- finding out your father has been unfaithful. Especially at that age when you're already questioning everything. and then feeling the need to keep this heavy secret hidden for the better of the family but it still all comes out, AND to discover it wasn't even actually hidden in the first place. Like, it's one minute Jean is trying to wrap his head around these new feelings for Marco, feelings he doesn't even know what to do with, and then his whole family falling apart. The internal struggle of feelings and the external family drama being paired together with the rest of the plot?? OOF. Jean has been craving honesty and connection and then his dad, and in a way his mom too, comes and BOOM. Blows up any chance at that, at least when it comes to his family. It's interesting how Lucy uses that to mirror what's going on with Jean internally. talk about identity crisis. Classic coming-of-age stuff. Your insides are a mess and suddenly the world outside decides to match! Like the universe is tryna tell you something. and the scene when Jean finds his mom crying in the kitchen?? my heart breaks for both of them. You can see those walls Jean has built up start to crumble- like he saw his own pain reflected back at him. It was a turning point for sure, he realized at that moment he can't keep hiding. Not if he wants to connect with anyone. Even his own mother. It's heartbreaking but also really powerful. Makes you think, about how even when families are messy when they disappoint us, they can still teach us so much about, I dunno, love and forgiveness, all that stuff. How our own experiences, especially with our parents, shapes what we think those things even are. Love and loyalty are different for everyone. You can feel that… that need for honesty, for something real, sort of bleeding over into how Jean acts with Marco. Seeing his mom break down almost gives him permission to be vulnerable in other parts of his life too. And we really see it with Marco, the way Jean starts to open up and lets his guard down- it's risky, sure! But also brave. Super brave. Letting someone see your flaws and all… that's what makes it real. That's when their connection becomes something more, something deeper. It makes you think about what real intimacy really is. Letting someone see past those walls we build up into the messy stuff we try to keep hidden. And that's scary to be seen like that, especially if you've been hurt before. But what Jean is figuring out is that the payoff can be HUGE.

And then Jean and his art. It's like his superpower- all those emotions, those desires that can't come to words he puts on the page. Like, Lucy is using those little sketches as like a metaphor, each one a little piece of Jean! And as he starts to share them you see him changing- growing even! The art is how he figures himself out. Makes sense of all that swirling around inside. Art can be powerful like that. Helps you understand yourself and when you share it you're sharing a part of yourself it's like that saying "Art is not what you see but what you make others see." In Jean, he's making us see a lot. About ourselves, about the world

So we've got this coming-of-age story, complicated family dynamics, a romance that sneaks up on you. But it's more than that- Droplets is like this deep dive into what it means to be human. The relationships, the vulnerability, that journey of figuring out who you are. This fic makes you think about the droplets in your own life, those little moments, those feelings you get, and the people you meet. They all fit together and make you who you are. To reference another saying "life is a journey, not a destination" Even when things get messy, even when it's hard. You can find beauty in the unexpected. In those little moments that make up life so pay attention to those droplets today. The small stuff, the big stuff. It all matters. Cause it's all part of YOUR story. That is the beauty of Droplets

[the-oc-lass]

Nimona OC - Charlotte Swiftheart/Corova: Hearts of Gold

Hey, friends! I'm coming out you live on a Monday morning at 1:40 AM during my spring break. Woo!

Chapter 9: Downfall is on Ao3 and it's angsty as fuck! Like. Really sad. But hey, what would a Christine fic be without angst? Not a Christine fic, yes indeed. I'm currently working on Chapter 10 still but I should be able to get it done by next week. Wish me luck on that.

Lovely tagged people:

@madlad-sadgal @xxlunadrawsstuffxx @floxu @em10-nimonafan2009 @blackblooms

[grapebritain]

I love Jules and Lassies relationship so much I'm going to implode. He's like a big brother to her , and it will never not make me happy. I like to imagine what it would be like if they became friends as kids ,and how cute a little au of that would be. Just Jules being nice to little Lassie, and Lassie just getting majorly protective when anyone spoke a bad word about her after becoming friends because he seemed like such a lonely kid won't lie (particularly bc of that one wild west kinda ep). Bonus that if anyone did to her face, even little jules would act like the queen she is and would basically not care at all or have pure sas on her. RAH. my fav, sweet , opposite sex duo probably aside from doctor whos 10 and donna

[aspiring-creative-person]

Ok guys, I posted the first chapter of one of my Shassy fics! I’m currently writing the second chapter, and I have 8 planned.