aiepathist
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Abbot lifted his head to look down at her. “See, that’s the post-traumatic stress. Something happens that your brain decides is a life or death situation. You have a massive adrenaline kick while it’s all happening, and then when it’s bleeding out of you on the comedown, your brain throws out anything that’s not completely vital. The amount of car crash patients we have who don’t even remember coming to the ER when they submit requests for their medical records for insurance… the brain’s a weird thing, Mohan.”
“Yeah,” she said, shooting him a look out of the side of her eyes. “It can even make you convinced you have to hurt yourself in order to seek external validation when the most logical course of action is rest.”
He snorted softly, shaking his head and leaning it back. “God,” he muttered, his cheeks stained pink. “Robby was right. You should have gone into psych.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A night shift from hell ends in Mohan giving Abbot a ride back to his place, where tensions finally boil over.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 27,403
- Chapters:
- 6/6
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Bookmarked by aiepathist
03 Jun 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
what’s emotional baggage without a little dry humping
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They meet at shift change, a slow bleed of information where their worlds overlap. Over the years of Samira’s residency, they share many moments, big and small, until mutual understanding grows into dangerous intimacy that threatens Jack and Samira's personal and professional lives.
A slow burn fic that goes month to month tracking the highs and lows of Jack and Samira's relationship.
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Nate kept his hands on the wheel, the orange sodium streetlights outside illuminating his face in repetitive, sweeping movements: carving his cheekbone and chin and throat out in razor-edged black, illuminating his dark hair— a millisecond of night, nothing but shape, then light again. Radio quiet. Hands on the wheel.
“You… changed,” Jules said, cheek against the seat as she looked at him. What was it about his face that had shifted? Something strange. Something she couldn’t put her finger on. Definitely not while drunk.
Dark eyes under long, slender, dark brows found hers for a moment that felt longer than it was. “So did you,” he said before aiming his gaze back out to the road.
“Not that much.”
“Nah, not that much,” he agreed, and slowed for the turn off to his house. “Me either. Not really. Not that much.”
___________________________________________Jules comes home for Spring Break.
Bookmarked by aiepathist
23 May 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
The Mortifying Ordeal Of Being Intimately Perceived By A Fanfiction And Having It Reveal Your Wicked Desires
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Lady Elizabeth Harlander has lived almost all the life she can recall within the safe, secluded walls of Saint Margaret's, a convent school for girls of means in Calais, France. Despite her dear uncle's attempts to wed her off, she remains-- but tragedy strikes. The wind blows cold from the North. And soon... something finds her.
Or: Elizabeth Harlander gets her happy ending.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 254,233
- Chapters:
- 22/22
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- 2,257
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- 1,558
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- 474
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Bookmarked by aiepathist
17 May 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
legitimately the most beautiful work I’ve read ever, much love to this incredible author
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Summary
As a criminal profiler, I'm trained to read minds, not fall for one. Assigned to Task Force 141 to catch a demon from Ghost's past proves more difficult than anticipated, because the masked man I need answers from swears he will never trust me.
He won’t even let me say his name.
But, despite our mutual hatred, a spark kindles between us. And since fires don't ask for permission to burn... we're about to go up in fucking flames.