weird_cookie
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my idle daydreams of inactive suicide risk/prettiest girl in the world and what they'd get up to together
Bookmarked by weird_cookie
13 Sep 2025
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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.”
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A night shift from hell ends in Mohan giving Abbot a ride back to his place, where tensions finally boil over.
Bookmarked by weird_cookie
17 Aug 2025
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Watching the three of them, Quinn ruefully thinks that they’re good together. Occupying each other’s spaces as easy as breathing, in sync and utterly smitten with each other. A perfect equilateral triangle.
There’s a keen sense of loss echoing in his sternum, but he smothers it. You can’t lose what you never really had.
(or: five times Quinn gets dragged into working with the team and one time things go a little differently.)
Bookmarked by weird_cookie
05 May 2025
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Steve's rarely been touched in a way that didn't equate to some kind of hurt. The cold metal of a stethoscope against his frail chest or the sting of a needle drawing yet another blood sample, when he was a sickly child. The bone-shattering punches thrown by the neighborhood bullies on the playground, or by his own father at home, drunk and wild. His mother, weak and clutching at him as she grew more incoherent with the drugs as the cancer ate away at her insides. Touch was something he shied away from, something he told himself he just didn't want.
Except...he did. He just didn't know how.
Until he finds a flyer for a local "affection and intimacy services" program.
In which Steve learns how to become comfortable with touch, and there is one very good dog, and a slow-burn romance.
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Bookmarked by weird_cookie
12 Oct 2024