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how to unblock your psychic chakra's and score free pineapple smoothies (a beginners guide) by CancerCadaver
Fandoms: Psych (TV 2006)
01 Mar 2026
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Summary
He also, somewhat, wanted to distract himself. From all of it. From the crowd of people all muttering around him, from the friction of his clothes rubbing against him as he moved, from the stupid bright lights that wouldn’t stop buzzing. All of it was rubbing him the wrong way, making him feel as though he was going to lose it. All of this stupid stuff shouldn’t have been bothering him, it almost never did. But now it was, and he felt as though he was about to throw up. Or break down. Or cry. Or, D, all of the above.
One thing became crystal clear to him. If he didn’t get out of that room immediately, something bad was going to happen.
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(or, shawn gets overstimulated and doesnt really know how to handle it. luckily, lassie does.)
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“I’m uh–” Shawn couldn’t think of anything. He was blanking. Shit, shit, shit. The pressure was on, and he was basically flopping around like a fish out of water. “I’m seeing the color green. And, uh– a body of water! The killer is somewhere near a body of water.”
“Oh please– are you serious?” Lassie scoffed. “That’s one of the oldest fake psychic tropes in the book. Near a body of water?”
“Fine,” Shawn shot back, dropping the facade for a second to glare at Lassie, before remembering that he still had to be the tortured psychic. “Oh, uh– It’s cold, and dark. Where the killer is hiding. Very wet.”
“We don’t need to know where the killer is,” Vicks reminded. “We need to know who. Can you divine that?”
“Yeah, well, I–” Shawn groaned, annoyed. “I’m working on it.”
He continued to flail around like an idiot, hoping to perform some sort of performance that would distract from his utter lack of knowledge. Like a magician dancing around to hide the rabbit that he was pulling out of his ass. Or something. He didn’t really know how magician magic worked.“Spencer,” Lassie repeated yet again, having gotten closer to Shawn when he had his eyes closed. Not too much closer, only a few steps, but enough that it felt less like Shawn yelling into the void and more like Shawn venting to Lassiter of all people.
“And– and I get that he just wants what's best for us, but what about what’s best for me, y’know?” Shawn gave a hollow laugh, ignoring Lassie’s continued attempts to get him to shut up. Now was his time to talk, damnit, and he was going to take the opportunity to vent his emotions and deal with the consequences of it later. “This entire station is so annoying, and my brain is being so weird and fuzzy right now, and I don’t know how to get it to stop being fuzzy so that it can actually work, so I guess I’ll just die. Or go into pharmaceutical sales. Because my psychicness is all used up, and I’m pretty much useless now.” -
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