#psych fic

[pineapplepluto]

Iris's Butterfly

“Bu-fly!” Iris reaching for it with her tiny hand Pointing then grabbing Karen gently tells her look don’t touch Remembers butterfly collecting in high school She keeps her collection locked away in a drawer She knows Iris would love the pretty colours and patterns But she’s not ready to answer the question of why the butterflies at home don’t move When the ones at the park do So she keeps her collection locked away In a drawer in the closet where she keeps her gun safe Another thing she’s not ready to explain

(Based on the prompt of Karen taking Iris to the park from @arrowheadedbitch)

[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 :)

[afewproblems]

WIP Snippet from Difficult Days

This is rough, but I just had to share because I am kicking my legs up in the air at this interaction!

Shawn clears his throat, realizing just how close Lassiter’s face has gotten, “uh yeah, we have your back Lassifrass”.

Carlton hums, his eyes closing blearily for a moment before he looks at Shawn again, “you ever take your own advice Spencer?”

Shawn bristles slightly. 

“Listen, this isn’t about me, you're a striking man with strong features, eyes that I--that people--that women--” Shawn swallows harshly, ignoring the way Lassiter’s eyes trace over his rapidly heating face, all because of Shawn's stupid, big, dumb mouth.

“Women wanna do cannonballs into, you have great posture and uh, penmanship the likes I've never seen”.

“You're honestly a catch Lassie, don't be so hard on yourself".

“I'm a catch”.

“Yeah Lassie, you are”.

Lassiter stares at Shawn for a beat, his blue eyes almost seem to glow in the darkness of the pub and Shawn is so, so, aware of how close they're sitting now. He watches transfixed as Lassiter lifts his hand from his lap to reach up and trace a soft knuckle across Shawns cheekbone then down to his chin, slightly tipping Shawn’s face up.

Shawn feels himself stop breathing.

What. The fuck. Is happening??

Klaxons blare in his mind once again as a chorus of , ‘DANGER, DANGER WILL ROBINSON’, repeats over and over. 

“A catch,” Lassiter repeats, the words rumble in his chest. He smirks slightly, his blue eyes crease at the corners as he tips his face away to mutter something under his breath about catching someone. 

[cintasfics]

I've recently started watching Psych and I've come up with my own oc/self-insert because I'm desperate for fics lol. So here is a basic rundown of her relationships with the main group:

Friends with Gus and Shawn (obviously)

I'm thinking she met Gus through work (she's a nurse) or they all just crossed paths one day and Shawn decided she was their new best friend (a la the looney tunes show)

Shares custody of Shawn, if Gus is busy with work or has just had enough of Shawn for a bit, she joins him on his cases instead and/or tries to keep him entertained

I'm unsure if she knows that Shawn is faking being a psychic or not, I'm thinking she's eventually let in on the bit so they have someone else in their corner helping them do the grunt work, but until then she's sceptical but goes along with it regardless because it's fun to watch

Gets on well with Juliet, they started hanging out outside of cases when she invited Juliet out with her friends because she knows what it's like to be new in town not knowing many people. they soon have a 'you're not insane and neither am I (both clearly insane)' thing going on and the others try to avoid leaving them alone unsupervised

Lassiter immediately writes her off due to her association with Shawn but slowly warms up to her and to his horror, finds himself falling for her (much to Juliet, their number one shipper's, delight)

Henry is kind of a father figure to her, with her family living elsewhere he kind of steps in to help her with various things (car trouble, maintenance issues, no one to fish with etc.) and they become quite close. she loves to annoy Shawn by saying she's Henry's favourite (she gets away with more/lectured less than him and Gus)

[thespiritssaidso]

some people do it by the book (but i prefer to go by feel)

Summary: Shawn and Lassiter are undercover at a high-end resort where all visitors get their own private cabin. All the two need to do now is settle in — and chop up some wood to make a fire, of course. 

Notes: okay, so I’m basing this place off of the Big Cedar Lodge (I went there one year with my family on a road trip). I’m not sure if there’s a resort like it in California, but oh well. Currently as I’m writing this, it is 3 in the afternoon and the internet at my job is crappy and won’t let me look at maps without taking forever and a half to load it up. And if anyone knows me then they know that my patience is extremely limited (part of the reason why I’m only good at writing one shots lmao) and I don’t really feel like taking longer than necessary to make sure the made-up place I am writing for the made-up people to stay at actually exists. 

TL;DR this place exists in Branson, Missouri, but I’m too lazy to make sure a place like it also exists in California. 

Anyways, enjoy!! I know we all love a good Shassie at a cabin au.

Flufftober day 8: Chopping and Piling Wood

—————

Lassiter grunted as he swung his ax into the block of wood, chopping it neatly in two. He leaned over and tossed the half still sitting on the block and tossed it onto a small pile that was slowly building up. After throwing the other half onto the pile right after the first, he reached up and wiped a line of sweat beading on his forehead. 

Currently, he and Shawn were undercover as a married couple to investigate a few disappearances that were happening at the Great Pine Lodge. 

The place was as fancy as a cabin in the woods could get. Full plumbing, air conditioning for when it got hot, heaters for when it got cold, a large king size plush mattress complete with expensive feeling sheets and covers. And that was just the cabin. 

About a stone’s throw from where they were staying was a large beautiful lake, with water so clear Lassiter could almost see the bottom. 

The other cabins people were staying at were a decent distance from their own, close enough to see but not close enough to hear the inhabitants if they were inside. 

A paved road — not a gravel road — sat in front of the cabins, shuttle buses on speed dial on the rotary phone sitting on the bedside table inside, so that visitors wouldn’t have to waste their own cars’ gas to go to the dining hall, or the gift shop, or even the arcade (yes, this place had an arcade). 

Lassiter had always dreamed of going here one day. It was the perfect vacation spot for him and Shawn; fine dining, a beautiful view, activities the both of them would enjoy. 

But now was not the time for dreaming of a perfect vacation (although hopefully there’d be some time left for them to do so). Now was time for investigation. Or more aptly, chopping firewood, in Lassiter’s case. 

Before chopping another log, Lassiter stopped to reroll his sleeves that were slowly unraveling themselves. At the moment, all he was wearing was the button up he normally had on under his jacket, the pants to match said jacket, and his work shoes. He probably should’ve put a little more thought into his wardrobe. 

Too late. He’d committed and now he had to stick with it. Lassiter was just glad that Shawn was still unpacking inside. He was always self-conscious about his arms, how much of a stick he looked when he wasn’t wearing something loose — like his suit jacket. 

He looked at his biceps with disdain. It wasn’t like he was weak and couldn’t lift anything. His muscles just never showed unless he flexed them, hiding like some kind of sleeper agent, or whatever they were calling it nowadays. 

Whatever. So long as no one was here to see him make an idiot of himself trying to chop wood. Lassiter was eventually able to cut them into halves once he figured out a comfortable rhythm, but the start was just godawful. His first swing into the first log didn’t have enough weight behind it and was at an awkward angle, so it had bounced away from the wood and left only a small dent. His second swing was too strong and split right between the log and lodged itself into the chopping block. 

But he was better now, after cutting for what felt like hours, though realistically it had probably been thirty minutes. 

After placing another log down, Lassiter prepared to swing the ax once more when-

“That is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” 

Lassiter nearly jumped out of his skin. There, leaning against the door was none other than his boyfriend. From what he could see, it looked like Shawn made himself a mug of something warm, judging by the faint steam emanating from it. Tea? Coffee? Hot cocoa? Probably the latter, knowing his boyfriend’s taste for sweet things. 

Lassiter felt the tips of his ears warm, and he knew they’d gone red. “How long were you standing there for?” 

“Ah, time is irrelevant-”

“Shawn.” 

“At least ten minutes.”

Ten minutes. Ten minutes of just watching him swing an ax at wood. Lassiter had no clue what he looked like when he was cutting wood, but he was probably ridiculous. Shawn had probably seen every mistake he’d made. 

Lassiter turned back around, doing his best to ignore the way Shawn was staring at him and lifted the ax once more. He swung with precision and split the log neatly. “Don’t lie, Shawn.” He said, referring to what Shawn had said that startled him. “You know I hate it-”

“What? No no no! Carly, I’m being serious! Look, this is my serious face.”

He didn’t look, not wanting to see his boyfriend who was most likely holding back laughter. He didn’t say anything either, simply returning to the task at hand. Although now he knew he had an audience, which somehow made swinging an ax ten times harder than it was originally. 

There was quiet, uncharacteristic for Shawn. Only the crunching of dead leaves and the swish of grass told Lassiter that he was walking over to him. 

“Back up. I don’t want to accidentally hit you with the-”

“Carlton, look at me. Lemme see those baby blues.” 

At the use of his name, Lassiter turned his head to Shawn. The lack of a nickname and his tone told the detective that he really was being serious. 

And he was right. Lassiter couldn’t remember the last time the otherwise childish man looked this serious about something. He said nothing as he looked into Shawn’s eyes, grass green grounding him. He dropped the ax, a dull thud breaking the quiet. 

“I love all of you, Carly. Doesn’t matter how much you hate it, I look and see you. I don’t see flaws, I see the sexiest body a man could ask for.”

Lassiter couldn’t help the grin, or the tiny laugh that bubbled out at the last thing Shawn said. “Alright, if you say so.” 

“I do say so, and my word is law. You should know this by now, Carlytown.” Shawn stated matter-of-factly. 

This time, Lassiter let out a snort at his boyfriend’s statement. “Is that right?”

“It is.” 

“Mhm. By the way, did you finish unpacking our stuff?” If his calculations were correct, Shawn had taken all of twenty minutes. And from past experience Lassiter knew that it took him at least an hour to get everything perfectly situated for the both of them. 

“We can do that later, I know you have a specific way you like to have your toothbrush set up. Right now there’s a suspect somewhere that’s begging to get caught.” 

“I’m not sure any criminal actually wants to get caught.”

“Really? Because I’m sensing they’re at the arcade right now, writing a secret message in morse code at the game where you have to shoot down those rubber ducks.” 

“Are they, or do you just want to go play games?” 

“That’s neither here nor there. Point is, I’ve already called a shuttle to pick us up and take us to the main building. They should be here in about… five minutes?” 

Lassiter stared at him incredulously. “Five- five minutes? And you’re only telling me this now because why?” That just barely left him with enough time to get out of his sweaty button up and into something clean. It was just the arcade, but he’d prefer to go out without smelling weird in public. 

“Well, I would have told you earlier, but I just couldn’t stop watching you chop that wood. Seriously, Carly, you have no idea how hot you looked swinging that ax.”

“I- alright, fine. Could’ve used more warning time, but it’s fine. Where’d you put my clothes?” 

“In the dresser on the left of the bed, everything’s in the top drawer.”

—————

Notes: yeah yeah yeah, the name of the place they’re staying at is just a rip from the place I based it off of. Sue me. 

oh and the title is a lyric in C'mon Girl by Red Hot Chili Peppers, i couldn't come up with an actual title by myself, sorry

ao3 link

[gremlin-pattie]

Psych fics that altered my brain chemistry (most of these focus on Shawn and Gus’s friendship):

One Undead to Another

(vampire!Shawn, angst, the gang (Gus + Lassie + Jules) being there for Shawn)

same eyes as your father

(Henry learning how to accept and support trans!Shawn; he’s a little confused at first, but it’s very sweet)

Second Shooter

(trans!Gus and trans!Shawn surviving middle school together)

every superhero has an origin story

(a look into how knowing Shawn has changed Gus’s life)

these first few fragile months

(Shawn and Gus reconnect after Shawn returns to Santa Barbara, once Shawn finally decides to stop running)

[tineeericeee]

Midnight Snack

Summary: Shawn is hungry. Lassiter is tired.

note: was sad today. Made this to cheer myself up. 

—————

Lassiter was awoken by the familiar sensation of something — or more accurately: someone — climbing onto his cheek as he lay face-up. It tickled him as the barely-there presence shuffled across his skin and began pushing at his nose. 

Sunlight did not shine through his eyelids, so he knew it had to have been very early in the morning. Much earlier than even he would have liked. His suspicions were confirmed when an owl hooted somewhere outside. 

He groaned. “Shawn, it’s too early.” Fighting the urge to brush his hand at his cheek, he instead raised a hand to rub the sleep from his eyes. When he opened them, he immediately saw the small, blurry, very close up figure of Shawn. 

Shawn stopped shoving at Lassiter’s nose the moment he noticed he was awake. “Lassie! Glad you’re up. Just have a quick question for you.”

“And it couldn’t have waited until morning? You know I have to get up early–”

“I’m hungry.” Shawn quickly interrupted him.

Lassiter couldn’t resist the eyebrow raise. “That wasn’t a question.”

“No, but you know what is?”

“What?”

“‘Can you make pancakes?’”

Lassiter sighed. Of course. “You want pancakes. In the middle of the night.”

It was too dark to see his face, but Carlton knew that Shawn was grinning. “Is that a yes?”

Lassiter chose not to answer, instead reaching a hand up and pinching Shawn’s waist between forefinger and thumb. He could feel the little man go limp as he did, allowing himself to be lifted into the air. Shawn’s sides expanded and contracted under his fingertips as he breathed, the little heart beating against his chest apparent as well. 

Sitting up one handed was difficult, but he managed to do so. His left hand pushed against the mattress, helping him into a tailor position, as his right continued to hold Shawn up until eventually they were eye-level. 

Reaching over to his nightstand with the unoccupied hand, he flicked the lamp on. Warm light flooded the room, softly illuminating the minimal decorations, the mussed up bed sheets, and of course Shawn’s big grin as he dangled from between Lassiter’s fingertips.

They stared at each other, neither one showing signs breaking eye contact. 

Eventually, Lassiter gave in. He shut his eyes and allowed his head to fall back against the headboard of his bed. “The things I do for you…”

Amidst the sounds of Shawn cheering, Lassiter swung his legs over the side of his bed, standing up and making his way to the kitchen. As he did, he flattened his hand out to allow Shawn to sit in his palm. 

Of course, he didn’t, instead opting to kneel, grasping the tip of Lassiter’s middle finger — which was roughly the same height as him — with both hands to keep himself from falling. “Have I ever told you how amazing of a boyfriend you are?”

Lassiter couldn’t help the soft smile when he heard those words. “Aren’t you supposed to say that before you ask me to do you a favor?”

Shawn gasped dramatically. “I’m appalled you would insinuate I’d do such a thing! Me? Weaponizing my love for you? I never.”

It wasn’t long until they were in the kitchen. Lassiter flicked the light switch, bright white light illuminating the cooking supplies. 

“Okay, I’m going to need both hands if you want me to do any cooking.” 

“Yeah, I can chill on the counter, no problemo– woah!”

In one swift motion, Lassiter tilted his hand and dumped Shawn into the breast pocket of his flannel pajamas. Now that his hands were free, he could actually cook without being hindered. 

Lassiter could feel Shawn flailing around inside the fabric as he procured the supplies he’d need to make the pancakes. 

Soon, the sound of sizzling and the smell of cooking pancakes filled the kitchen. 

Shawn had managed to push himself up and over the lip of the pocket, upper half hanging as far as he could go without tumbling out.

Carlton gently pushed him back in with a finger. “Stop that. Remember what happened last time?” 

Voice muffled from the wall of fabric that suddenly surrounded him, Shawn noted, “Last time you had on your silk-y pajamas, it made it easier to slip.” A moment later and his head was once again peeking out of the breast pocket. 

“Mh. You’re lucky I’d already had my eye on you when you fell out.” 

“Again, might I add: unreasonably slick pajamas!”

Lassiter just shook his head. Using a butter knife, he flipped over a minute dot of batter that was meant to become one of Shawn’s pancakes. There were at least ten of them dotting the griddle, along with one normal-sized pancake meant for Lassiter. 

Not even a minute passed before Shawn began bouncing up and down impatiently. “Are they done yet?”

“No, just be patient.” With that, he flipped over his own pancake with the spatula.

“Awww, come on big guy! Can’t you like, turn the little knob and make it cook faster?” 

“That’s not how the griddle works. If I made it any hotter the pancakes would cook too fast and leave the outside burnt and the inside raw.” 

Shawn huffed. “Yeah, but mine should cook faster since they’re smaller.” 

Normally, yes, they would have. Lassiter had just turned the heat on the griddle much lower than it should have been. It meant his own pancake was struggling, but it also meant that Shawn’s were cooking at a normal speed.

The moment the tiny dots of pancake were done cooking, Lassiter set them aside on a small piece of napkin. Then, as discreetly as possible, he turned the heat on the griddle up so as to let his finish faster. 

It went off without a hitch. Shawn had been so distracted by the prospect of getting closer to eating his own pancakes — the very thing he’d woken up Lassiter for — he hadn’t noticed the larger pancake suddenly cooking much faster. 

“Come on! They’re done! Let me at ‘em!” 

“Calm down! You’ll get your pancakes in a second.” Lassiter slid the spatula under his regular pancake and set it onto a plate. 

Again, Lassiter pinched Shawn between finger and thumb, lifting him out of his pocket and onto the table in front of his small stack of pancakes. “There you go. You better enjoy them, because I’m not making more.” 

“Doubt it.” Shawn commented. He picked up one of the little pancake dots and took a large bite, tearing off a chunk. 

Lassiter rolled his eyes, cutting into his own pancake with a fork instead of using his hands like Shawn had. 

And so they sat in comfortable silence, savoring the flavor of the pancakes so graciously made by Carlton. 

—————

ao3 link

[typicalopposite]

shassie | T | chapter one 2,744 words

read it on ao3

summary: The color blue never used to mean much; lately it’s all Shawn seems to be able to think about. Blue skies, blue oceans, blue(berry) cars — like the one he’s sitting in fantasizing about a pair of blue, blue, blue eyes.

Let me start with I never ever EVER do this! But there was quite a nice response to me writing this sooo I’m gonna tag the people who seemed interested in reading it👀👀

@pineapple-psychic @river-lawrence @shawnaise @autism-criminal @starfish-spencer @obsidiancreates @notnickel @thegroundhogdidit @foldingthepage @acemonsterfudger @marieonhold @boozy-the-ghost @city-of-all-tunas @zombified-duck @iknowyouknowimnottellingthetruth @mores0 @vixiak @okiedokieletsgo @psyxhic-angels @therearenonamesthatarenttaken @brookiedaaroacecookie @tigertronn @lil-obsessed @nigellica @sweetsfandomcorner @lady-jarnsaxa @realtwilightsparkle

I think that was all of them!!! I am so sorry if you don’t like being tagged just let me know😮‍💨 I am now tired!

[cant-get-worse-than-this]

hey guys!!! this is my trans shawn spencer fic where lassie flirts withshawn without know that it's... well, shawn. i hope you enjoy it!

@bjugnakraekir @mores0 here it is!!!

[aba-daba-dooo]

A sequel to my other Real Psychic Shawn Fic: Impressively (Alter) Average.

(plz read it I'm sad and need validation)

[vertigoevolved]

shawn buys a gun || psych mini fic

obvious warnings: mentions of guns but no real violence

Shawn buys a gun.

It’s a smaller handgun and he buys a compact gun safe with it too. It takes two days before gus asks what the metal safe is for.

“It’s a gun safe.” Shawn answers honestly. He wonders if Gus can tell he’s nervous. They’ve always been close like that.

“Okay… what do you actually have in it” Gus sighs. He seems to ignore shawn’s fidgeting hands and lack of eye contact. He’s sure Gus is mentally preparing for more Shawn hijinks.

Most days shawn hates his gift, the only exceptions being when he uses it to help people, this wasn’t one of those times. The memories of Tommy pulling out his obnoxiously large gun and pointing it at Gus were forcing their way in to his thoughts. The hundreds of scenarios of what they could be doing to Gus while Shawn was stealing that stupid car.

He trusted this guy. Shawn was suppose to be able to “see beyond the veil” and he trusted the man holding a gun to his best friends head. he was barely able to keep up his comedic act when he was making the trade off. He let Gus down. He got too close. He almost lost his best friend. If anything had happened to Gus-

“Shawn?”

Shawn’s downwards spiral is cutoff. He looks up and sees Gus’ concerned face much closer than last time he was paying attention.

“Shawn what’s going on? What’s in the safe?” Gus has his hand on shawn’s shoulder. He’s probably trying to reassure him they are in this together. That’s Gus, always by his side, and nothing was going to happen to him if Shawn had anything to do about it.

Shawn smiled. “What do you want for lunch?”

[biancastoaster]

A Lily By Any Other Name (Is Still a Lily)

Category: Gen

Fandom: Psych (TV 2006)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Author Decided Not to Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Carlton Lassiter & OC

Characters: Lily M. Lassiter (OC), Carlton Lassiter, Carlton Lassiter's father, Shawn Spencer

Additional Tags: character death, misgendering, deadnaming, all that fun stuff, OC insert, sad Lassiter, flashbacks, homophobia, transphobia, little brother Lassiter, no beta we die like yin

Summary: Carlton visits his older sister. 

Author’s Notes: Lassiter needed an older sibling, I think it would’ve been good for him. 

I hope you guys like this, it took me a month to write. 

~~~~~~

At his desk, Carlton checked the time. Not yet. 

5 minutes went by before he checked again, and slumped back in his chair in disappointment when he saw it hadn’t been long since he last looked. 

This repeated until it finally was time. He quickly got ready to go. But just before he stood up to leave, Carlton grabbed a small file and put it inside his briefcase. He snapped the clasps shut and briskly began his way from his new office to his car. 

Halfway through the corridor, he’s stopped by an all too familiar voice. 

“Lassie! Where you going?” 

Carlton heaved a deep, exasperated sigh. Without even looking to see who it was, he kept walking away. “Not that it’s any of your business Spencer, but I’m visiting a family member.” 

Shawn caught up, ambling alongside Carlton. “Ooo, who? Is it Lauren? No wait, I got it: it’s your mother…s.”

He rolled his eyes. “None of them. I’m visiting my older sister, Lily.”

Shawn gave a look of surprise. “I didn’t know you had an older sister! Hold on, does she know you named your kid after her?”

Lassiter briskly walked out the door, Shawn still on his tail. “No, that’s why I’m visiting her today.”

“Doooes Marlowe know?”

“Yes, in fact she was the one who encouraged the name.”

“No no no, not that. Well, actually, yeah that too. But, does she know you’re visiting your sister without her?”

“Yes, she’s well aware I’m- you know what, I’m not entertaining this anymore. I need to leave now, I don’t want to be late.”

~~~

1974

It was dark out, the pitch black of night covering the neighborhood in a blanket, the sky dotted with little pinpricks of stars.  

Carlton Lassiter was in his bed, and he was tossing and turning in his sleep, mumbling nonsensical words to himself. 

He eventually woke up with a gasp. He was shaking, and he reached up to feel tear tracks on his face. He could’ve sworn that… 

But no. He was here, at home, safe in his bed. 

He wiped the remaining tears from his face, and tried to go back to sleep. But the adrenaline still lingered, keeping him awake and scared. Shadows seemed to loom from the corners, taking the form of monsters and blank figures. 

Eventually, he couldn’t take being alone in his room anymore. Grabbing his blanket, he gently hopped off his bed and onto the floor, and began making his way to his parents room. 

But right before Carlton even touched the doorknob, he hesitated. He didn’t want to bother them with something like this. His dad would probably just send him back to his room. And besides, their light was turned off, meaning his parents were fast asleep. 

So he kept going down the hall, and up the stairs. 

Carlton crept past the dining room and kitchen, and made his way to his brother Liam’s room. There was a tiny bit of light shining from under the door, nearly invisible to the untrained eye. 

He grabbed the doorknob, and as it made a small jiggling sound the light quickly turned off.

Carlton gently opened the door. “Liam?”

From the bed in the corner of the room, a head belonging to his 12 year old brother popped up from underneath the covers. “CJ? What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

He found himself unable to answer, his face screwing up and tears falling once more. 

Liam sat up, immediately concerned for his little brother. “Hey, hey, it’s alright, it’s alright. Come here.”

Carlton complied, clambering onto the bed and sinking into his older brother’s arms.

“It’s okay, just let it out.”

And he did, slowly hiccuping his way through telling Liam about the whole bad dream. 

The whole time, Liam sat there, rubbing Carlton’s back periodically to try and soothe him, like he had seen people on tv do. 

After sitting for a minute, Carlton sniffled, looking up at Liam. “What were you doing before I came in?”

“Ohh, just rereading The Hobbit.” 

“Can you- can you read it to me?” 

Liam smiled. “Of course. Did you want me to start at the beginning, or where I’m at?”

“Where you left off.”

“Alright then. Get comfy, come on, CJ.”

As Carlton snuggled under the covers, Liam reached under the first pillow and grabbed the book and pen light he had hidden just before Carlton came in. 

He cleared his throat, reading out loud, “As they sang the hobbit felt the love of beautiful things made by hands and by cunning and by magic moving through him, a fierce and a jealous love, the desire of the hearts of dwarves…”

Carlton slowly began to become more and more drowsy as the gentle timbre of his brother’s voice lulled him to sleep. 

“He looked out of the window. The stars were out in a dark sky above the trees. He thought of the jewels of the dwarves shining in dark caverns…”

Right when he was about succumb completely to sleep, he felt Liam gently put away the book and turn out the light once more. 

~~~

present

Carlton carefully pulled into a small strip mall, right in front of a store called ‘The Flower Corner’. 

He walked in, and stood at the desk, clearing his throat to catch the attention of the lady behind the desk. 

She looked up and saw him, and quickly stood up. “Oh hello, sir! How can I help you today?”

“I’m here to pickup a bouquet. It should be under Lassiter.”

“Of course, just one second.” She tapped a few keys on her keyboard, clicking a bit with her mouse as well. “Alright then, I’ll go ahead and grab it from the back.”

Carlton began awkwardly drumming his fingers on the counter as he waited for the employee to get back. 

“Alright, here they are!” 

He looked up and saw a beautiful bunch of flowers, a mix of pink lilies and carnations, all expertly wrapped in decorative plastic to hold it all together. 

As he paid, the cashier asked, “Who are the flowers for?” 

“My sister, Lily.” 

“Awww! Well, I can definitely see why you chose the lilies, then. I’m sure she’ll love them.”

Carlton nodded stiffly. The whole interaction felt awkward to him, and he hated awkward situations. So once he had gotten the bouquet paid for, he tried his best not to run out the door. 

~~~

1976

Carlton was riding in the back of his father’s car, on the way to pick up Liam from his friend’s house. 

He couldn’t remember his name, but he was pretty sure Liam’s friend was on the football team along with Liam himself. 

Looking out the window as they pulled up to the curb next to the house, he saw figures moving around behind the windows, presumably his brother and his friend saying goodbye.  

To his surprise, Carlton watched as his older brother walked out with a girl he didn’t recognize, instead of another guy. Maybe it was Liam’s friend’s sister? 

They had stopped at the entryway to continue a conversation, talking very animatedly, using dramatic hand gestures and exaggerated expressions. 

The two — along with Carlton — were startled when his dad honked the horn. 

Liam gave an apologetic look to the girl, and she burst into laughter. They exchanged a few more words before she gave him an energetic hug, which he equally returned. 

In the rearview mirror, Carlton saw a grin forming on his father. It was very clear what he thought the hug between the two had meant. But Carlton could just tell it wasn’t that kind of hug. He’d seen his parents hug, and girls and boys — couples — hug each other public. However, he had also seen girls hugging girls — their best friends — as well. That’s what kind of hug his brother and the girl had reminded him of.

As Liam climbed into the car, his dad gave him a look. “So, who was that?” 

Liam buckled in. “Just Chuck’s sister, she’s really nice.”

“Really nice, huh?” 

Carlton caught the suggestive look on his dad at the same time Liam did. “No, dad, it’s not- she’s just nice, I barely even know her.” 

His dad laughed. “That’s how it always starts. Soon enough you’ll be all over each other.”

It was then that Carlton noticed his brother’s face. It was red. The same shade of red his mother had at the end of the day when she finally took off her makeup. 

Not red in embarrassment from his father’s comments. He looked as if he’d been rubbing it continuously to get something off.

‘Was that what Liam had been doing? Wearing makeup?’

Later that day, Carlton confronted him, demanding to know the truth. Eventually, Liam caved. 

“Okay, okay, fine. Chuck wasn’t actually there, he had something come up. But Linda was, and… she uh… needed someone to model some of her makeup for her, and she asked me since we have really close skin tones.” Liam twisted his hands. “Her words, not mine.”

Carlton was young, only 8, but he knew when his brother was lying. However, he also knew when he should and shouldn’t pressure Liam with more questions, and decided to leave it alone. 

~~~

present

Carlton pulled out of the flower shop, and onto the road once more. 

He’d been driving for at least another 5 minutes when he hit a pothole that he heard a particularly loud bump from the back. He thought it was his briefcase for a minute, but a quick glance at the passenger seat told him that wasn’t true. There was something — or someone — in the trunk. 

Carlton pulled over to the side of the road, and grabbed his gun from his holster and cocked it. 

He pointed it at the trunk door, and quickly opened it. “Freeze!”

Light flossed the trunk, and a very familiar high pitched girlish scream emerged from inside. “Nonono don’t shoot!” 

“Spencer? What the hell are you doing here?”

Shawn clumsily clambered out of the trunk, tripping momentarily before regaining his balance. “I just wanted to meet your mystery sister, man. I’ve known you for what, 8 years? And I’ve never heard you talk about you ‘big sister Lily’.”

Carlton took a deep breath. “Spencer…” he briefly thought about ditching him on the side of the road. But a quick look told him that would be inhumane. And probably illegal. He ran a hand down his face exhaustedly. “Fine. You can come.” Shawn pumped a fist. “But you’re sitting in the back.”

“Tch.” Shawn made a dissapointed face, but got in the backseat anyway. 

~~~

1978

Carlton was hiding in his room, trying his best to drown out Liam and his father’s argument they were having just down the hall. 

Liam had been caught underneath the bleachers at the track, locking lips with the captain of the football team. Chuck, Liam’s so-called best friend, was the one to catch them, snitching on the couple to Carlton’s father. 

Which was what the current argument between the two was about.  

Everything was mostly muffled, thanks to Carlton shoving a pillow over his head to drown out the noise, but he definitely heard his father say something along the lines of ‘not raising his son to be a faggot’. 

At this, Liam raised his voice even more, becoming sou loud it permeated through the pillow. “I’m not gay, Dad!”

“Oh really? And how’s that, huh?”

“Because I’m a girl!”

There was a tense silence, shortly broken by the sound of a sharp slap, followed by quick footsteps running down the hall and up the stairs. Carlton could practically feel the slam of his brother’s- no, not brother, his sister’s bedroom door reverberating through the house. 

He waited for the sound of his father following after, but there was nothing.

Quietly, he opened his door. Carlton silently tiptoed upstairs, making sure he didn’t make too much sound. After a short trip, he made it upstairs, gently knocking on the door to his sister’s bedroom.   

“Are you alright-” he opens the door, and stops. So does Liam, who’s in the middle of shoving a t-shirt into a slowly overflowing backpack. “Liam? What are you doing?” 

Carlton sees her wince at the name. “I just… need some space from dad. I’m gonna stay at a friend’s house for a bit, wait for him to cool down a bit.”

“But, why is he mad at you for being a girl?”

She sighed. “I don’t know, buddy. Some people just, I can’t- they’re not really-” Her face started to scrunch up, eyes filling with tears. “But don’t worry, I won’t be gone for long, okay?”

He didn’t understand, but he nodded anyway. “Okay…”

She slung her backpack over her shoulder, and slid the window leading outside open. Just before slipping out, she paused and turned around. “Hey Carlton, can I ask you a favor?”

He perked up a little. “What is it?”

She scooted to the edge of the window, prepping to jump down. “Remember how you asked all of us to stop calling you CJ?” 

At least Carlton was able to understand this. “Yeah. It felt like a girly name to me.”

She smiled. “That’s kind of what I’m doing. ‘Liam’ doesn’t feel right.”

“Well, what do you want me to call you?”

“Lily. Just call me Lily instead.”

“Lily.” He tested it out “Okay. Bye Lily.”

“Bye Carlton. I’ll see you soon.” And with that, she jumped from the windowsill and landed nimbly on the soft grass far below. Lily wasted no time in booking it down the road, her figure quickly fading from sight as the night swallowed her. 

~~~

Present

Carlton’s hands subconsciously gripped the steering wheel as he remembered that night. He did get to see her again after that. Very soon, in fact. Just not in the way he had hoped. 

It had been a hit and run. There was only one bystander, and they hadn’t been close enough to see the car’s details in the pitch black of night. 

Carlton remembered sitting in the hospital waiting room with his parents and Lauren, the latter of whom was napping in her baby carrier, anxiously anticipating any news of Lily’s condition. 

He remembered someone coming out and whispering to his parents solemnly, something about Liam’sconditions, and how he wasn’t going to make it. 

He remembered going to her room and being told to say his goodbyes to Liam, seeing her broken and damaged body lying limply on the hospital bed. 

He remembered begging her still unmoving body to come back, to not leave him alone. 

He remembered being dragged away, tears flowing like a river as her heart monitor flatlined. 

He remembered his father reprimanding him, telling him he was tarnishing Liam’s memory by calling her Lily. 

He remembered that was the night that the last shred of respect he had for his dad crumbled away. 

It was as though he had just gotten to know his big sister, and then she was yanked away from him. 

As much as he hated it, it was the final push he needed in finalizing his decision of pursuing a career as a police officer, then head detective, then his current position as Chief of police. 

“Wait, Lassie this is-” Shawn cut himself off, immediately realized where they were going. “Oh man. I- I’m sorry, I had-”

“It’s fine, Spencer. You didn’t know.” Carlton said, his tone uncharacteristically soft.  

He pulled his car onto a gravelly path, bumping slightly along as he searched for-

There. He could see it from here. It wasn’t like it could be moved, but he almost always lost it in the sea of granite and marble, and would have to go on a search. 

He parked, and reached into the passenger seat where his briefcase and the bouquet still sat. 

“I’ll just- just wait here, Lassie. Me and dead people… it’s really depressing.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you to come anyway, Spencer.” Just before he closed the door, he pointed a threatening finger at Shawn. “You touch anything in here and I will not hesitate to shoot you. Copy?” 

Shawn said nothing, simply giving him a mock salute. Carlton rolled his eyes and shut the door. 

He walked up to a gray marble tombstone. The area had been mowed recently, so there was still some grass clippings scattered on the base of it. 

Liam Lily Mark Lassiter 

1962-1978

son daughter, brother sister, friend

Carlton smiled a bit to himself. Normally, he was opposed to defacement of property, but this was an exception in his eyes. Lily deserved to have her true name on the stone that marked her final resting place. 

He kneeled down and, after brushing away the grass clippings, gently set the bouquet in front of the tombstone, making sure none of the words were obscured. He’d already taken the plastic wrapping off. The world didn’t need more trash littered everywhere. 

“Hey Lily. I know it’s been a while. A few months, actually.” 

Carlton shifted a bit, trying to get comfortable. “I got promoted. I’m Chief of police now, like I’ve always worked for.” 

The tombstone sat silently.

“Uhmm, Marlowe gave birth, too. In the back of a food truck, of all places. Of course, it was all Spencer’s and Guster’s fault. I’m sure that doesn’t surprise you, huh?” 

Silence.

He continued. “It’s a girl, and god she is so beautiful. She has your eyes. We named her after you.” 

Still silence. 

“I have something else.” He reached beside him for his briefcase, and pulled out the file from earlier. “I managed to get your name legally changed. It was one hell of a legal battle, but Mom and Althea and I managed it. You’ll be getting a new tombstone soon, one with your real name.”

Taking a deep breath, he went on. “I miss you, Lily. But, not as much as I used to. I hope you don’t mind.”

A gentle breeze brushed by him, ruffling his hair. 

Carlton cleared his throat. “I’m… not good at saying goodbye. Even after all these visits. You’d think I’d get the hang of it by now.” 

Somewhere in a nearby tree, a bird tittered. 

“Okay, I’ll try to come back sooner next time. I know you don’t like waiting.” He packed up his briefcase once more, and turned away, heading back to his car. 

~~~

Bonus: 

Lily watched as he left, swinging her feet from the tombstone, a soft smile playing on her lips. She looked exactly how she had when she died, but somehow emulated an air of femininity she would never have been able to achieve while alive. 

She waved, even though she knew her little brother wouldn’t see it. “Bye, Carlton.”

[umanta]

My favourite section of the fic I'm working on rn

Shawn is… quiet, even as Lassie sets up the place for forensics and Shawn does his usual amount of tampering with the crime scene. He rifles through bathroom cabinets and Bonnie’s vanity table, through the contents of the freezer. There’s a fudgesicle in there, and he doesn’t even joke about eating it. “What’s wrong?” asks Gus. “Hm?” “You’re acting weird.” Another point in favor of Gus’s hypothesis: Shawn looks away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says to the carton of molding berries in the fridge. “Shawn—” “Oh look, pineapple!” But he doesn’t reach for it, even though it’s neatly sliced, in a conveniently open bowl (which, ew, fridge smell), and Juliet isn’t even here to look disappointed in him. Gus gently pushes Shawn back and shuts the door of the fridge, moving to put them face to face. “Dude.” “Okay, look, this is one of those ethical dilemmas they’re always talking about on Sesame Street. What would Elmo do, right?” Gus doesn’t dignify that with an answer.

[afewproblems]

Psych Amnesia Ficlet continued.

Just how does a man with an eidetic memory cope when he can't remember who he is? You're can read part one here.

"Who the hell is Shawn?"

There is a moment of stunned silence that takes over the room as he shifts in the bed, stretching his stiff leg, he hisses as something twinges painfully under the blankets.

The man in the salmon button-up stares at him, at this distance he can now see that the shirt is actually white with thin salmon stripes. The blonde woman's mouth soundlessly opens and closes three times as though trying to find the words to respond.

Its the tall irritated man that finds his voice first.

"Knock it off Spencer," he grumbles, placing the chart back in the holder at the end of the bed, "this isn't a joke".

His head throbs suddenly as several images of the man in front of him flash across his vision.

The tall stranger sitting at a desk writing a report, pausing to look up at him with an amused smirk.

Blue eyes crinkling at the corners as the stranger barks out a sharp laugh and the thrill it fills him with to be the one to illicit that sound.

A large hand on his small of his back, moving him through a police station with much more gentle force than he would have expected.

He blinks rapidly against the onslaught, lifting the hand attached to the monitor up to cradle his head.

Shit, that hurt.

He opens his eyes just in time to see the woman smack the tall man in the stomach, he grunts at the impact but doesn't look at her.

His expression is decidedly more closed off. If it wasn't for the way his blue eyes follow...Shawn? Spencer?

Whatever his name is, this guy is definitely more concerned than he's letting on.

"I'm calling Henry," the other man in the salmon--striped shirt, says abruptly, he pats one of Shawn's knees awkwardly and moves away towards the curtain blocking his line of sight to the door and hallway beyond.

Oddly, he feels a little adrift without him here.

The woman takes a deep breath, her shoulders square slightly as she takes his hand in her own, "Shawn, you're in the hospital."

Well, that much is obvious he thinks a little bitterly, but he finds himself unable to hold it against her as she continues in a firm voice.

"I'm Juliet, we work together," she says slowly, as though carefully sifting through her words, what she wants to say verses what she should.

"You've been...unconscious. For ten days, they--the doctors didn't know if you, if there would be--"

"O'Hara, you can't possibly believe he doesn't know who he is," the grumpy one says bluntly as Shawn gets another flash, this time of a dog bounding through a field.

"Lassie?" He croaks, forcing their attention back on him.

Juliet squeezes his hand gently and smiles, though it's watery at the edges now, "yeah Shawn, Lassiter, Carlton Lassiter.

Shawn doesn't miss the way the other man steps closer to his bed, his brow pinched with surprise.

But of course Shawn would remember Lassie, or rather Carlton.

How could he forget someone clearly so important, someone he loved to make laugh, who touched him so gently and smiled like that when he dropped by unannounced.

"I'm okay, Lassie," he slurs, blinking sleepily as the wave of fatigue begins to break over him, "I promise I would never forget you."

Carlton blinks, his head tilts slightly as he and Juliet exchange a look with one another.

"Why is that Shawn?" She asks him as his eyes begin to flutter closed. He feels her tap the back of his hand and opens his eyes at half mast.

"Why is that Shawn," she asks again leaning in a little closer as he breathes in and out.

"Cuz he's my boyfriend of course".

His eyes flutter closed again, even as a chorus of startled, 'what the fuck?' and 'excuse me?' and the clatter of something hitting the floor rings out in the small room amid the beeps of the heart rate monitor.

Shawn lets himself be pulled back to a dreamless sleep, uncaring of the raised voices and sound of his name, repeated again and again.

He sleeps and dreams of warm hands and blue eyes.

[paperxcrowns]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Psych (TV 2006) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Juliet O'Hara & Shawn Spencer Characters: Shawn Spencer, Juliet O'Hara Additional Tags: Whump, Car Accidents, Blood and Injury, Broken Bones, Concussions, Don't worry about it :), Attempted Murder, Explosions, Hurt/Comfort, Season/Series 03, Juliet O'Hara Whump, Shawn Spencer Whump, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Head Injury, no beta we die like my sanity Summary:

It trickles back slowly. He’s sitting in the passenger seat of Juliet’s car. They’re listening to music on the drive back from a suspect’s house. She rolls her eyes at a joke he cracked, but she’s smiling. There’s nothing else after that except for the sound of a horn, bright headlights, and an explosion of pain.

OR,

Shawn and Juliet get into a car crash (ambiguously set sometime during season 3)

[thespiritssaidso]

Lassiter's Favorite Scent

Summary: Shawn takes Lassie to Bath and Body Works

Notes: Couldn’t stop thinking about this one the moment I saw it. 

Flufftober day 3: Favorite Scent

—————

“Tell me again why we’re here, Shawn?”  

“I ran out of my special pineapple lotion. But that’s not the only reason. We’re here because you still have yet to discover the wonderfulness of Bath and Body Works!”

Lassiter groaned. He shouldn’t have told Shawn about that. It just kind of… slipped out. Shawn had been talking about how he needed to go to the store and was going on about how the layout was nice, even saying “Well, I’m sure you already know about the special display they usually do in the fall.” 

And of course, Lassiter told him that no, he had no clue what Shawn was even talking about. 

One thing had led to another, and here they were, standing in the middle of the store in front of a small table packed with candles. Why there were candles at a store literally named Bath and Body Works, Lassiter would never know. But there they sat, looking as though fall had thrown up on the display. 

“Not that I don’t like spending time with you, but don’t you normally do this with Guster?” 

“Not this time. Gus said he got COVID, so he’s down for the count.” Shawn reached out and grabbed a candle at random. Autumn breeze. It was a light orange, almost a bit rustic in color. It looked like a leaf that had begun its change. “Here! Smell this one.” 

Lassiter lurched backward at the candle being shoved in his face. “Shawn-”

“Come on! Just one sniff!” 

“No, I don’t-” he stopped mid sentence when the scent hit him. It was surprisingly delightful. 

It took him back in time to a memory he’d almost forgotten. One of late October, picking pumpkins with his little sister Laura and watching over her as she played in the corn pit. He could practically smell the crisp air from that day over twenty years ago. 

Lassiter blinked, and he was back to the store. “Huh. It smells nice.” That was putting it lightly. It had a nice scent, and was very nostalgic. Although he wouldn’t list it as a favorite. It was good, but not ‘top three’ good. But if he had to buy it, there would be no complaints coming from him. 

Shawn, fluent in ‘Carlton-ese’ — that’s what he called it — seemed to be able to tell exactly what Lassiter was really saying. “Okay then, how about this one?”  

Yet another candle was shoved in his face, and Lassiter couldn’t help the automatic recoil. It was another orange candle, but a bit darker in color. The label had a picture of a pumpkin pie. Pumpkin Spice. 

He took a whiff, and was once again taken back to another memory, one more recent this time. He was eating pie with Shawn, one the same shade of orange as the candle, and covered in whipped cream. He didn’t stop the small grin growing as he remembered that moment. 

“Yeah? Good?” 

Again, Lassiter blinked away the memory. “Mh. I think I’ll look around myself.”

Shawn shrugged. “Alright, just don’t eat any of the samples, that’s not what they’re there for.” He put the cap back on the candle and set it back on the display. 

“I- that was one time!” But Shawn had already left, presumably knowing exactly where he was going. But Lassiter could tell by his gait that he was only pretending. He watched as Shawn confidently strode in what was probably the wrong direction and mumbled to himself, “The label was misleading…”

Lassiter wandered away from the fall display and towards the walls, where the more generic scents were kept. Blues and whites and pinks… shelves upon shelves of lotion and body wash and candles and even perfume — with a small section set aside near the entrance for cologne. 

Picking a direction at random, he walked over and grabbed the first bottle he saw. Fresh Laundry. It was sky blue, and the label had a picture of a white towel hanging on a line, flapping in the breeze. 

He popped the cap off and gingerly took a sniff. Yup. That was definitely clean laundry. It was fresh, too, which was extremely impressive. 

How the hell did they do it? Some of the scents here weren’t actual objects, but rather concepts of a scent. In fact, just to his left he could see one labeled On the Horizon, whatever that meant. But he was pretty sure that if he smelled it, he would understand. 

He set down the little bottle and stalked off. Lassiter couldn’t see where Shawn had gone off to. You’d think someone like him would stand out in a place like this. But nope. It was as though his boyfriend could suddenly blend into the blue and white surroundings like a chameleon. Or a spy. Hmmm, Shawn as a spy… probably not, for the safety of everyone. 

As he walked away, Lassiter noticed a small group of teenagers off to the side, just out of the corner of his eye. They were talking to each other in hushed whispers, giving him looks every now and then. 

At that moment, Lassiter had never felt more embarrassed in his life. His face burned, and he felt redder than the Candy Apple scented body wash just to the right of him. What was he even doing here? Why was he by himself? He looked like an idiot. Where was Shawn? 

A hand on his shoulder broke him out of his slow spiral, and with it a scent he was familiar with. Cheap cologne mixed with the smallest hint of tropical fruit. And there was Shawn, looking as handsome and goofy as ever. 

“Hey Carly! Sorry that took so a bit. I had to fight off some old lady with a bad perm for the pineapple body wash. But I won! Look!” He dug through the white and blue striped bag and pulled out a yellow bottle. The label was, of course, of a pineapple. Specifically of one laying on a beach chair sitting in the sand. 

Lassiter looked back and saw that the group of teens had disappeared. He turned to Shawn again and nodded. “Great, let’s go.” 

Of course, Shawn noticed the change in Lassiter’s attitude. But he said nothing about it, instead choosing to change the topic. “So, did you find something that smelled good?” 

“Actually, yeah. Yeah I did.” And it was standing right next to him, holding his hand as they walked out of the store. 

———

ao3 link