One little detail I absolutely love is in Black and Tan when Jules and Lassie show up at the SBPD with their new outfits. Jules is wearing a black shirt under her jacket and Lassie has a blue tie.
But a few minutes later at the end of the episode, they both put on red.
I could talk about the Jules Lassie hug at the end of Mr. Yin Presents for days. I could talk about how Lassie hauls the EMT away, but he doesn’t crowd Jules or grab her. How he just gently hovers his hand under her arm and waits for her to reach out to him. The way Jules keeps saying, “I’m fine, it’s okay, I’m fine, I am totally fine, I am fine,” and Lassie is saying, “You don’t have to be fine. Juliet! You don’t have to be fine.” The way Jules tries to pretend she's okay, but she's not, and she just collapses. How Lassie is basically holding her upright because she is so completely exhausted. How Lassie is rubbing her back with his thumb. And the way he rests his chin on her head. And you can see him blinking back tears of his own. AND THEY'RE GRIPPING EACH OTHER SO TIGHTLY THEY'RE HOLDING ONTO EACH OTHER FOR DEAR LIFE. Jules holding on to Lassie because she's terrified and thought she was going to die, Lassie holding on to Jules because he's terrified and thought he was going to lose her.
BUT that’s not what this post is about. Maybe I’m losing my mind but I SWEAR in the last few frames before they fade out completely, you can see Lassie tilt his head down and KISS HER ON THE HEAD. Most gifs cut off before this point for aesthetic reasons but turn up your screen brightness and stare at it closely, I swear he kisses her on the head.
Can we talk about the fact that, instead of using air fresheners or candles, Lassie blasts his apartment with spray deodorant? I can't even begin to imagine the texture his furniture must have. What is his problem. Why does he do that.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Words: 1,088
General Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply
Summary: Shawn comes up with a creative way to win an arm-wrestling contest against Gus.
It was only a matter of time before I wrote a fic about these two.
They’re so silly goofy adorable
Fic under the cut
“C’mon, Gus, just one more game!”
“No, Shawn, I’m done,” said Gus, exasperated. He started scooping the UNO cards off the brown floor panels of the Psych office and putting them back into the box. The two friends’ card game had started on the coffee table next to their couch but somehow, most of the cards had ended up on the floor.
“Oh, I see how it is. You’re scared to lose.”
“No I’m not,” Gus grunted as he stood up, wiping dust off the knees of his pants. They really needed to vacuum in here. “I just don’t want to play UNO for the eleventh time!”
“You don’t wanna lose for the eleventh time.”
“I’m actually not sure who won any of those games, Shawn. You were making up most of the rules.”
Shawn snorted and handed Gus the last couple of cards. “I personally think my version is way more fun. If we ever have Jules and Lassie over, we’re teaching them Ultimate No–Remorse Death UNO.”
“Whatever,” Gus sighed. His voice jumped up an octave as he tried to suppress the chuckle building in his throat.
“Just one more game,” Shawn pleaded.
“We’ve been playing games all day,” said Gus, sitting down at his desk and pulling out his laptop. “Oh Gus, bet you can’t throw this paper into the trash from over there, bet you can’t guess what I’m thinking right now, bet you can’t beat me at Candyland!”
Shawn plopped down onto his own chair with a sigh. “Don’t be a sore loser. I just got lucky at Candyland.”
“You got stuck in the Molasses Swamp for seven turns and then flipped over the board and declared yourself the winner.”
“Gloppy and I have some unresolved issues.”
Shawn leaned back in his chair, tipping the front legs off the ground as he rested his feet on his desk. He put his arms behind his head and stretched. His boredom was becoming almost unbearable.
“How ‘bout just one more, and then I promise I’ll stop,” he said. “Let’s arm–wrestle.”
“I have work to do, Shawn.”
“Whoever wins the arm–wrestling officially wins all the other games we played today.”
“That’s not fair! You can’t do that!”
“Come on man, you got this one in the bag. I mean, look at those biceps. They’re practically tearing through your shirt!” Shawn motioned toward Gus’s rolled–up blue sleeves.
Gus sighed and closed his laptop. “Fine, just one round.”
Shawn put his feet down and scooted his chair over to Gus’s desk, making Gus wince as the legs of the chair squealed against the floor. Gus put his right elbow up on the desk and held his hand out to Shawn, who grabbed it tightly. Shawn smirked.
“Alright, three, two—”
“Wait, we’re not even!” Gus moved to the side of his chair and adjusted their arms. “You have more leverage here. Our elbows have to be the same distance away from the middle.”
Shawn raised an eyebrow. “Does it really matter?”
“Yes, you have to move your arm out more. It’s all about physics.” He pushed Shawn’s elbow a few centimeters farther from their hands.
Shawn rolled his eyes. “Gus, don’t be Emilio Estevez’s haircut in the second Mighty Ducks movie.”
“No, it’s just— the second movie?”
“Yeah, he fixes it for the third one,” Shawn shrugged. “Anyway, three, two, one, go!”
“Hey!” Gus was caught off–guard by the less–than–fair start, but he managed to push back against Shawn. Their arms stayed upright for a few seconds, neither one having the advantage. Slowly, Shawn’s arm started to fall back toward the table. He grunted with effort before looking up into Gus’s eyes and smiling. Suddenly, he leaned across the table and planted a soft kiss on Gus’s lips.
Gus gasped into the kiss and stopped straining just before Shawn’s hand was about to hit the desk. Shawn quickly seized his opportunity and pushed Gus’s arm back until it touched the desk, signifying the end of the match, and Shawn’s victory.
Having effectively won the arm-wrestling contest, Shawn finally pulled away from the kiss, the warmth lingering on both of their lips, and grinned triumphantly.
Gus leaned back with his eyes wide. He stood up from the chair, looking dazed. “Did you just kiss me?”
Shawn’s smile faltered. “Are you angry?”
“I– yes! Of course I’m angry!” Gus yelled. Shawn’s expression fell as regret and panic seized his chest. He stood up and tried desperately to think of something to say, something to save the friendship he had inevitably just shattered, but he couldn’t find the words.
“That was our first kiss! And you wasted it to win an arm–wrestling contest!” Gus fumed. “Shawn, our first kiss was supposed to be romantic! Do you have any idea how long I’ve spent imagining it? We would be sitting on the boardwalk at night, on that green bench by the pier. We would be watching the stars reflecting in the ocean together. It would be cool, with a little breeze, but not too cold. The ocean would be quiet and there would only be a few people walking by and the moon would be huge and bright. We would slowly move closer together until our knees were touching and we would hold hands. Then, you would look at me—”
Shawn’s fears melted as he gazed at the man babbling away in front of him, feeling more in love than ever before. He felt like laughing. Or crying. Or both.
Gus continued, “I would be able to taste your vanilla chapstick. You would gently hold the back of my head and—”
Shawn stepped forward and pressed his lips against Gus’s a second time, effectively ending his romantic rant. Remembering what Gus had just said, he brought his hands up to hold the back of his head, deepening the kiss.
When they broke apart, Gus froze, mouth hanging open.
“Hey, I had to shut you up somehow,” Shawn shrugged. “I always thought it would have been the other way around.”
“Shawn, that was our second–first kiss!” Gus cried, but he couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face. “I can’t believe it…”
Shawn grabbed his hand.
“Don’t worry dude, there’s gonna be so many more.”
Gus looked thoughtful for a moment. “Now I have a contest to propose,” he smiled. “Bet you can’t be the best boyfriend in the whole world.”
Shawn pulled Gus closer and pressed their foreheads together, wrapping his arms around him.
