Why I love this man.

And he’s from Jersey! Hollaaaa


also dulé hill, quality person

a) Always reblog Dulé Hill, especially Dulé Hill being the awesomest

b) Hat + scruff + blazer over t-shirt = me wanting a Psych AU where Gus goes to med school instead of becoming a pharmaceutical rep and ends up being a small town country doc somewhere, rocking the hat, rocking the scruff, living this very orderly, calm life in which he is a respected member of an established community until he comes home one day and THERE’S SHAWN, chilling on his couch eating a slice of the pie Mrs. Berrywood made for Gus, okay, that is Gus’s pie. And instead of asking what he’s doing in town or how long he plans to stay or where the hell he’s even been for the last ten years, Gus is like, “That’s my pie, Shawn. You’re eating my pie,” and somehow this becomes Shawn more-or-less moving into Gus’s spare room, and barging in on Gus’s life, and making friends with Gus’s whole town, and the two of them solving crimes together and then eventually falling in love. (Or: Psych, in a different location, minus the fake psychic thing, and with a stronger emphasis on the Gus/Watson parallels.) 





Just a reminder that no matter how hard you ship Gus and Shawn, the show ships them harder than you ever will.

Random Psych headcanon of the day: so I think that when Shawn was a kid, before his mom left, she made some fantastic meal one night, maybe for a birthday or something. And upon finishing said meal, Henry leaned back in his chair, patted both hands against his stomach, turned to Shawn, and said, “It’s true what they say: the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” 

Which is great, except then that sentiment had two decades to run itself through the Shawn Spencer filter of selective listening and laziness, and went from meaning “The way to a man’s heart is making him food” to “The way to a man’s heart is providing him with food” to “The way to a man’s heart is suggesting you eat some food.” Because: Shawn. And so, not unlike Wesley in the Princess Bride with “As you wish,” what Shawn really means every time he turns to Gus and says “Jerk chicken?” or “Tacos?” or “Corn nuts?” is “I love you.” But of course Gus does not know this, because it’s kind of indistinguishable as an “I love you,” especially when you consider that Gus has seen Shawn eat Chinese food at a crime scene. Gus kind of assumes Shawn means “I love food,” when he says these things, and, to be fair, he’s not wrong. Shawn does love food. He just loves Gus more; that’s why it’s so hard to tell him. 

But then one day they’re at the station and Jules is talking about the new guy she’s dating and how she’s not sure if they’re on the same page affection-wise, and Shawn, off-hand, is like, “Well, you know what they say: the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” But he can’t quite help but look at Gus as he says it, and it must be too honest, whatever’s on his face, because Gus stares at him for a long minute before he looks away and comes up with some excuse for them to leave.

And they get outside, right, and Shawn’s just walking along all innocent when Gus says, “Shawn.” And when Shawn turns to him Gus makes the like, steeling-my-resolve face that Shawn usually only sees before they’re going to do something seriously dangerous, and then he leans in and presses his lips to Shawn’s really quickly, like a test, before he pulls away and sets his jaw and raises his eyebrows all, Your move, I dare you. And say what you will about Shawn Spencer, but the man can think on the fly, so he reaches out and grabs Gus by the lapels and just kisses the crap out of him, the kind of huge, hungry, frantic kissing that’s pretty indecent to be doing in front of a police station, but Gus is kissing back, so who cares, right?

And eventually they have to stop kissing because the chief and Lassie and Jules and Buzz are all standing on the steps like, “Ahem,” and Shawn is all, “AND NOW WE SHALL ADJOURN TO THE BLUEBERRY, GOOD DAY,” but when they get in the car he runs out of things to say, is just sitting there shell-shocked and so happy all his chatter is dried up for once, his thumb brushing against his bottom lip. And then Gus grins at him, big and wide and like he’s just figured out a half-dozen years of Shawn being totally fucking in love with him, and he probably has, is the thing. If anybody could, it’s Gus. 

So Shawn clears his throat and clears it again and says, “Jerk chicken?” and Gus shakes his head, drops his eyes, shrinks his smile down to something smaller and quieter and so intimate that Shawn wouldn’t be able to look directly at it if this was anyone else, and says, “You know that’s right.” 


That moment where you realize that you’re basically Gus.