#platonic shawn
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gremlin-pattie · 29 days ago
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“there’s no platonic explanation for shawn and gus’s relationship” maybe to you. i understand them though
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mytardisisparked · 1 year ago
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The reason Psych is the Important Show of All Time is because it said "friendship is the MOST important thing." Like, yes, the romances were good but the show spends even more time emphasizing and developing the friendships and that's why it rocks. Lassiter and Juliet love and support each other unconditionally without even the slightest whiff of romance and it is SO. REFRESHING. When Juliet almost dies, Lassie sacrifices his favorite gun to save her without any hesitation. He's the one there to hold her while she cries. She's his confidant. She leaves everything she knows behind so he can chase his dream of being chief without reprocussion. That's a deep, wholesome kind of platonic love. They also never had Shawn be jealous of how close Jules and Lassie are - instead, in the final episode, we see Shawn thanking Lassie for loving and supporting Juliet. We simply don't do that jealousy crap here. Lassie and Jules are best friends and that's an excellent thing. And then there's Shawn and Gus. Those characters are narratively and physically inseperable. The show makes it VERY clear that, without the other, neither one is complete. They balance each other and exacerbate each other's hijinks at the same time. They're closer than close and everyone around them just accepts it. It's just the way those two dumb boys are and no one is going to try to get between that. And then, of course, SO many friendships develop over the course of the show. Lassie and Shawn form a begrudging friendship eventually. Juliet and Karen end up bonding more than I think either expected. Friendship is the beating heart of this series and it's presented in a way that is unique and fun and I just don't see a lot of other shows that do it like Psych did.
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shivgirly · 1 year ago
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Shawngus: An outsider's perspective
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queenie-ofthe-void · 4 months ago
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Shawn and Gus have completely ruined all other platonic soulmates for me. They have no equal.
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loosethreadsofyoursoul · 7 months ago
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okay but we agree that lassiter is so obsessed with shawn that it makes him look stupid right
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kevinsdsy · 8 months ago
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bonus (kevin day retweeting jeremy’s tweet 🙂‍↕️):
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< prev post | next part >
the trojans social media au (pt. 7): i wanted to make a silly part and then i found that pic of 90s damon albarn and it looked like it could be from a podcast so i really wanted to include it and suddenly i was writing the most heartwarming team moment???
also a few weeks ago i saw @problemduetest4life introduce 90s damon albarn as a jeremy knox fancast and it’s truly been living in my mind rent free. like it’s literally how i always imagined him to look like and the only fancast i will accept now 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ he’s made it to the pinterest board so thank u so much for your service <33333
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innammoratta · 6 months ago
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The Hobbit Incorrect Quotes
(Y/n): *walking into Erebor*
(Y/n): "Duuude, it's totally burnt in here."
Bilbo: "It's called a 'fire,' (Y/n)."
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morganbritton132 · 3 months ago
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Stobin Psych AU when?
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starfish-spencer · 10 months ago
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Jules and Lassie's friendship has me feeling soft y'all. Shawn and Gus have their own traditions and inside jokes and I bet that Jules and Lassie start to develop the same things. They go out to eat together and have movie nights at each other's places every week. Jules lets Lassie infodump about US history and guns as long as he wants and Lassie (begrudgingly) lets Jules paint his nails. They chat about all the latest gossip in the SBPD and gush over their crushes together. They tell each other (almost) all their secrets. Lassie stays with Jules 24/7 after the clock tower and comforts her when she and Shawn temporarily break up. Jules is one of the only people to see Lassie truly break down and cry and she holds him for as long as he needs and tells him that they're going to be okay. They have their own jokes that nobody else gets that they whisper to each other and giggle at. They laugh until neither of them can breathe. They hug each other every morning when they arrive at the station and when they leave, and casually hold hands. They started out as just coworkers but by the last few seasons they are basically platonic soulmates, parallel to Shawn and Gus. And I love that. I love them.
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bambinafangirls · 5 months ago
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i love psych bc i literally do not know who i ship shawn more with.
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smtx-736 · 6 months ago
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Never understood platonic soulmates but once I saw Gus and Shawn, I did.
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thebadchoicemachine · 1 month ago
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I’m really chill about shipping, even characters of different canon sexualities, but sometimes I’ll be hit with an extremely popular ship that i become violently aromantic.
Just *clenches fist* they would not be in love they are best friends.
Sometimes that “there’s no platonic explanation for this” hits you like a brick to the nuts.
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philtstone · 5 months ago
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Shawn/Juliet, "holding hands under the table"
i cant actually find which number it is from this list of prompts but that could just be my brain being fried from the week. also, everyone can feel free to send me more prompts lol. strike while the iron is hot, etc. this might be the most sedate tone i've ever hit with a psych fic. set immediately after the s5 finale -- like, hours after -- and hopefully the characters are all at the right place, emotionally. theres definitely a bit of a grey zone there in s5-6 where a lot is left unsaid but kind of known but also kind of not known. oh, jules.
She asks Lassiter to give her a ride because she probably shouldn’t be driving with a recent head injury. EMTs said no concussion, which is a good thing, but Juliet feels shaken enough that she’s going to do the intelligent, grown up woman thing and ask a friend for a favor.
She can’t help but wonder if maybe she does have a concussion after all, because Carlton behaves extremely fucking weirdly for pretty much the entirety of the drive.
Considering it’s Carlton, that’s really saying something.
“Vick gave me Shawn and Gus’s check,” she says as smoothly as she can, as they get in the car. It’s not entirely a lie, but it does feel oddly duplicitous in a way that holding hands with Shawn under the briefing table earlier didn’t. “Can you drop me off at the house?”
“House?” says her usually gruff partner, high-pitched. She’d caught him at the last second and kind of serendipitously, right as he was making his way out of the station, looking spooked, his jacket only half-on. At the time Juliet felt relieved, but now she’s wondering if maybe he’d needed some time to decompress before being made responsible for another person’s safety again. “What house? Spencer’s house? Doesn’t he live in a laundromat?”
“Henry’s house,” Juliet says, giving him a weird look while he turns the car on. His right eye is twitching. It’s possible that the evening’s events shook him more than he’s willing to admit; wouldn’t be the first time. “Gus told me they headed over there for the night. Carlton, are you alright?”
“I’m just spiffy,” he says through oddly gritted teeth, and sounds the opposite of. “One drop off, coming right up.”
Juliet decides she’ll figure it out in the morning. Her head kind of hurts, as does her elbow, and the catharsis she’d hoped to achieve through finally putting her signature down on that paper has left her a little bit shaky.
It feels good, though. She’ll probably have a good cry in the shower later on.
We did it, says Shawn’s voice in her head, so firm and final and confident. Her stomach and chest and general person are suddenly overcome with a slamming wave of affection she definitely was not prepared for. Swallowing, Juliet tucks her phone between her legs and shoots him a quick text. Wrapped up at the station.
Incoming text from SHAWN SPENCER:
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BABE WITH THE POWER!!!!!!
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
u gonna go home & rest?
Shawn’s texts were exuberant before they started dating, too, but the million heart emojis are a recent development. Something about their introduction makes Juliet want to clench her hands together, melt into the ground, and laugh hysterically at the same time. Shawn turns being a walking contradiction into an art form sometimes. So terrified of facing all the love he’s got to give head-on, but so reckless and sloppy about leaving a trail of it around.
Maybe that’s why she’s fallen so hard for him, Juliet thinks; it matches her inexplicable combination of extreme trust and extreme caution.
Okay. Woah. Too much. Chill out, Juliet; now’s not really the time.
Not with Carlton showing all the signs of working through a hernia in the driver’s seat beside her, mere hours after Serial Killer Takedown.
Yeah, Juliet replies to her boyfriend, then lays her head against the cool car window, closing her eyes before she can notice Carlton’s alarmed glances at her phone.
When they pull up, half the house lights are on. Clearly no one is sleeping, despite the horribly late hour. Juliet glances down at her phone again and realizes it’s pushing three in the morning. She winces. 
“Are you going to be okay driving home?” she asks, one hand on the door handle. Carlton’s staring directly out of the windshield at the house, looking aggrieved in that way that gives him the general look and demeanor of a wet cat. She really hopes he’s okay.
“Fine,” he says. Juliet holds her phone against her lap and sighs. 
“Alright.”
“O’Hara –” he begins, pained, as she opens the door.
“Yeah?”
“I …” A beat. “Nothing. I’m – you get some rest tonight. And – and stay safe.”
“I will,” Juliet replies, surprised by how sincerely the words come out.
Given everything that’s happened, she didn’t expect her own confidence on the subject to be so strong.
Juliet steps out onto the front lawn and watches her partner drive away. Behind her the house silhouettes itself in its own lit glow and the quiet sounds and salty smell of the ocean close by begin to properly filter into her consciousness. She stands still for a few long moments in the dark, which is less threatening now than it was a few hours ago. The humidity thickens her hair and her breath fogs in front of her. When she got Shawn’s text that he and Gus were crashing at his dad’s house instead of the Psych office, call if u need anything jules, she’d been yearning for a shower a bit too much to really think about it. Once her paperwork was out of the way, though, a shower became less important than – whatever feeling brought her here.
Shawn would say it was the idea of pancakes. She likes to think she’s capable of marginally more emotional vulnerability than he is.
She bites her lip, then presses send on the text.
Home.
The response is an immediate string of emojis, mainly the heart bubbles but with the addition of a few inexplicable inanimate objects too. She’s not sure what the megaphone or candelabra or pineapple are supposed to represent, but she’s smiling when she knocks on the kitchen door, which is meaning enough for her.
Henry opens it. He looks — exhausted, about the same as Juliet feels, despite the lack of head injury or general bodily trauma. The lines in his face immediately soften at the sight of her. Juliet refuses point blank to allow her eyes to well up.
“In you come,” Henry sighs, making way. Dr. Spencer — Maddie, Juliet supposes — is at the kitchen table nursing a cup of tea. Muffled sounds of a television come from the next room. Juliet vaguely recognizes them as Phineas and Ferb.
At her entrance, Madeline raises an interested eyebrow and glances at Henry, but beyond that moment of silent communication says nothing.
“Do you want some tea?” she asks simply.
“Please.”
Henry squeezes her shoulder, gently enough that she realizes he somehow noticed and filed away all her injuries earlier. Henry Spencer the detective still surprises her sometimes. “Boys are in the living room,” he says, and goes back to the table while his ex-wife putters around the kitchen more comfortably than is probably wise.
Juliet chews on her lip again. An amused smile fights its way to the surface, coupled with an odd twang of yearning that doesn’t really make much sense. Poor Shawn, she thinks, and it's almost a laugh in the same way she’s almost about to cry. But that’s been true all evening. Henry pulls out another old photograph from the box they seemed to be sorting through before her arrival and peers over the top of his reading glasses.
“Oh God, can you believe I used to wear this stuff in public? You hated this thing.”
“If by this thing you mean that horrible yellow suit …”
“See, it wasn’t the yellow that was the problem. The cut did nothing to flatter my physique.”
Madeline is laughing when Juliet slips out, chamomile tea in hand, to the living room.
At the entrance she stops and takes her heels off. Phineas and Ferb is playing, and loudly at that. As promised, Shawn and Gus are huddled on the couch nursing their empty pancake containers, smelling like sugar and more or less dressed in PJs; she spots what’s surely one of Henry’s old fishing t-shirts, cartoonish in the logo and slightly too baggy on Shawn. She knows any old clothes he keeps in the closet here probably don’t fit him anymore. Juliet wonders if Gus went home to change or if he, too, borrowed clothes. Shawn’s hair has flattened a bit where he must have yanked his shirt down over his head, floofy the way it can be in the mornings sometimes. He’s holding a pillow against his chest. Gus’s sock has a hole in the big toe. Every so often one or both of them will giggle at the TV. 
Her eyes do well up, then. 
Of course Shawn picks that exact second to notice her.
He notices a lot of things, Juliet has come to observe, few of which fit congruously with the many things he forgets or overlooks or can’t be bothered over. She wonders if that’s just an extension of how the spirits work, and if he’d explain it to her if she asked him. There’s a resigned part of her that doesn’t think he will, and a practical part of her that guesses at an attention deficit diagnosis that probably gave him some grief growing up and doesn’t really pair well with psychic visions or an enduring fear of being too vulnerable.
Three in the morning is too late to be mulling any of this stuff over, Juliet thinks. Besides which, most of it becomes suddenly irrelevant as she’s hit with the expression that takes over his face at the sight of her.  
Three in the morning, she reminds herself. Near death experience. Don’t read into it.
Shawn doesn’t say anything, only looks at her with all that throat-closing tenderness Juliet has ignored so many times before. I think you’re swell, he’d said. In some ways, she’s always been able to see right through him without even trying. 
Gus is wedged right beside him, hogging the blankets. There’s enough room on the couch for Juliet to fit on the other side of them. 
She walks over, hands Shawn her tea, and climbs into his lap. Her knees bend over his right leg, her shoulder sinks into his chest and her head settles against his neck. Shawn still doesn’t say anything. He just sets the mug down carefully on the floor, takes a deep, relieving breath, and wraps his arms around her. She hadn’t really worried that Gus might complain, but when he reaches over unprompted and squeezes Juliet’s unhurt elbow, the last little knot in her chest dissolves fully. She gropes her hand over the upholstery and squeezes his arm back.
“... latest in my brilliant line of ‘Inators, I call it the Unlikely-Inator! She pairs beautifully with the Likeli-Inator 2000. Together, Perry the Platypus, I shall use them to somehow take over the Tri-State area, and then the world!”
“You wanna change?” Shawn murmurs into her hair after a moment. 
“Later,” Juliet says.
“Mmmkay.”
The old t-shirt is soft against the skin of her cheek and smells like laundry detergent. The rest of the house smells like a family lives in it, even though Juliet knows that’s not really true, and it also smells like Shawn, a little bit. Shawn smells like Shawn, too. His chest rumbles beneath her with every soft laugh the cartoon pulls out of him. 
“Oh – oh, remember this, this next bit is really funny,” Gus says. His voice is just as soft as Shawn’s.
“Man, you know I have this whole show memorized.”
“I’ve never really seen it,” Juliet says quietly. They watch as the little platypus karate kicks Dr. Doofenshmirtz in the head.
“I know,” says Shawn. “But that’s being rectified. Ha! Gus, we should turn the Psych office into a funhouse next week. Just to see if we can.”
He pats her thigh and Juliet feels a small smile turn up the corners of her mouth against Shawn’s neck.
“Shawn, I am not stepping foot in another amusement park since that crazy-ass chick and her boyfriend tried murdering everyone last month. We can try turning it into a bunny sanctuary instead.”
“I like the way you think, hermano. Wait wait, here comes the explosion. Classic!”
She falls asleep slowly, lulled by the comfortable heat of Shawn’s body and the muted, silly sounds from the television. 
When Juliet wakes up, her cheek is pressed against an actual pillow, she’s horizontal, and she has no idea what day it is. She blinks against the grit in her eyes and the fact that her whole body is sore before realizing she slept on a couch. Someone put a pillow under her head and a blanket over her body and took the time to change her out of her gross work clothes. She looks down, only mildly discombobulated. She’s wearing the old fishing t-shirt Shawn had on last night and what must be a pair of Madeline’s pajama pants. They’re a pretty purple color and silky against her legs. She definitely still has her underwear on. A soft snore comes from the ground below her and Juliet realizes she’s still in the living room at Shawn’s dad’s house; Shawn himself is burritoed in an ancient sleeping bag on the ground directly beneath her and Gus is sprawled on a camp bed that’s a bit too small for him on the other side of the coffee table. They’re both still fast asleep. The light coming from the window is light enough that it’s properly morning, but the rest of the house is still dead quiet. A soft blue light appears suddenly on the coffee table; her phone is vibrating, which she realizes must have been the thing that woke her up in the first place.
She reaches carefully over Shawn to grab it. The home screen shows a text from Carlton, received minutes ago.
Got home alright?
She could say that Gus gave her a ride; it would be another easy lie, and he’d happily corroborate it. She hates the idea, though. She looks down at Shawn’s sleeping form, the unruly tuft of hair poking out from beneath the blankets and the drool on his pillow. Telling Carlton would be a bad idea, she knows.
Juliet types, for a second time trying not to think too hard about it, Yes, home. Safe and sound.
She sinks back into the surprisingly comfortable couch cushions, instinctively curling into herself, full of feeling she can’t quite articulate. After a moment of staring silently at the wall, Juliet turns onto her back and reaches one quiet arm down. The tips of her fingers meet the soft warm skin of Shawn’s ear, and when he doesn’t wake up, she keeps her knuckles there, barely moving, only rubbing her thumb up and down every so often. 
Everything else can be a problem for tomorrow. Slowly, she falls asleep again. 
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captainswan618 · 3 months ago
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Anyway holy shit it actually makes me so happy that Gus moved to San Francisco with Shawn 🥺
Everyone is always telling you that once you find your true love, you’ll drift apart from even your closest friends, because your S/O has to be the MOST important person in your life.
And then Psych heard that and got ready to THROW HANDS, because if you think Shawn and Gus are ever going to be separated, you better fucking think again.
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starlitrays · 9 months ago
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“Burton Guster has been my best friend since we were five,”
NO NO NO PLEASE NO LET ME LIVE
“And maybe, just maybe, if any of you can look yourselves in the mirror and know you’ve been half as good a friend to someone as Gus has been to me,”
SOMEONE SEDATE ME
“Well, you too can be considered great. Give it up for my best friend Burton Guster.” — Shawn Spencer, Psych, 3x06, Murder … ? Anyone … ? Anyone … ? Bueller … ?
crying. platonic shus is the ultimate friendship. never have i ever seen a show portray the importance and value of true friendship SO FUCKING WELL. 8 SEASONS & 3* MOVIES?? my fucking goat fr.
(*i remember watching an interview n i cant remember if it was dule hill (gus) or james roday rodriguez (shawn), i think it was the latter, who said the script for the 4th movie was being worked on, they just needed a studio to pick it up for filming (hinting that peacock wasnt sure they wanted to do another one) BUT THEY DONT TAKE MY WORD FOR IT I COULD BE WRONG)
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r0zzk1ll · 24 days ago
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if i were to rewrite batim at one point i'd make wally and shawn interact at least once. they Deserve it can anyone hear me
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LYYEKKEEE IMAGINE A WALLY AUDIO LOGG TALKING ABT SHAWN AND VICE VERSA...... WALLY NOTABLY HAVING A PLUSHIE OF SOME KIND FROMM HIMMN.....,..,..,.,,,.,.. POSSIBLY SOMETHING ABT THEM NOT UNDERSTANDING EACH OTHER BUT WORKING AROUND IT..... SHAWN SPEAKING FONDLY OF WALLY BC HES THEONLY ONE THAT VISITS HIM IN THE TOY FACTORY.........;;;;💔💔 CAN ANYONEHEAARRRRMEEEEEEEEEE IM FONNA CRASH OUT OVER THEM PELASSKKEE PLEAK PLEAK
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