shall I ramble on...

Kingdon Microfic Day 26: Whimsy 🥠 259 words

@kingdonmicrofic • Day 27: Opalite • 266/266 • Rated: G

CW: emotional infidelity, slight daddy kink

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Before he left work last week, Mel cornered him in the locker room with her number on a sticky note and told him she was always one call away. He didn't think he'd cash in so quickly, but Tanner won a miniature astronomy shop at the county fair that needed assembling and Frank knew a woman who had restless, nimble fingers and a wide open evening.

The project required an adult and Frank had meal prepping to do so he enlisted his best friend. Frank handed Mel the wooden materials she needed as she fixated on building the wizard's opalite staff. He watched his son tinker away at the miniature shop with the same furrowed brows as hers. Honestly, Frank lifted a few things here and then to look busy but he left partway to check on dinner—Mel had this covered. He occasionally poked his head into the living room to see if any stray pieces left their work station. They were both occupied so the sound of tiny wooden panels clicking together and oven timer were the only noise around.

ask-omnipony:

I don’t really believe this mumbo jumbo

I mean it’s a goddamn hat.

Right..?

The white rose, it symbolizes the unique beauty of all the women who wish not to be with a nice guy such as myse-

I wonder if this works with other kinds of hat…

Nothing ventured, nothing gained…

WHEEEN THE MOON HITS YOUR EYE LIKE A BIG PIZZA PIE THAT’S AMORREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

oh boy…….

Luckily, this nonsense doesn’t work on girls.

Observe…

And it can’t possibly work on motorcycle helmets.

I must test it.

Nothing happening so far…

What in the world?

Oh why not? This should be interesting.

Here we go!

Were all mad here in Underland!

What the hell! Never Again!

… Actually …

Alright, I gotta try this!

Can’t be that bad!

….

LOL

i wonder if it works for flower crowns?

here goes nothin-

w HAT THE

DID I JUST-

Okay Clearly something is up.

Hmm… I wonder

I’m sure nothing could possibly…

I wonder what happens when you wear 8 of these at once…

Day 26: whimsy Word count: 366 (Trinity's POV)

AO3

Mel and Langdon twirled around the ER as if it were a fucking carousel, they laughed about jokes no one else understood —”inside things”, they would say— and they'd finished each other's sentences. 

​Sometimes, when they were deep into a case together, they didn't even need words. They finished each other's thoughts, communicating through overly expressive eyebrows, a nod or two, and somehow arriving at a course of action that was actually helpful.

It felt like everyone else around was privy to their little whimsical world where words weren't needed, and eyes kept glimmering. 

Trinity could almost hear the violins playing in the background with every interaction. Their own little soundtrack kept building toward a grand finale, but it always got cut off at the most exciting part.

Like the time they set a hospital record during a STEMI. When they'd left the hospital room with round eyes and huge smiles, Mel was almost jumping up and down, Langdon barely falling as he walked backwards to look at her, saying, “Oh, my god, Mel. We did it, Mel.” 

She giggled like a Disney princess every time he said her name. And then they collapsed into each other like magnets. Their chests pressed together, her face into his chest, and he nuzzled over her temple like a bad dog. It was disgustingly sweet. The rush of the room seemed to slow down, and the fluorescent lights turned warmer. It made no sense at all. The air was thicker, moving took effort, and when their eyes met, Trinity heard a tiny voice saying, “This is it”.

Robby didn't hear it, though. He walked out of the bathroom and past them, ushering them up. “There'll be time to celebrate later.” And they jumped apart and away back again, another moment delayed. 

@kingdonmicrofic day twenty-six: whimsy - 437 words - pre-relationship, fluff

Since Frank quit the bad drugs (benzos) and starting the good ones (Adderall) he finds he’s sleeping better, which is a little unfortunate, because the now-missing four to five free hours a day were when he would do all of his hobbies.

“Really, it’s better for you,” Yolanda is telling him. A rare slow day at work and somebody brought in bagels; as usual, when there’s food, Yolanda has crept out of the surgeon’s tower. She and Frank are huddled away in a corner, ostensibly to avoid Trinity, as she and Yolanda are currently off after a two-month period of on. “Nobody needs that many hobbies.”

“Actually, there’s a model—”

“Ugh, spare me.” Yolanda waves her half-eaten everything bagel. “Go talk to Javadi if you want psychobabble.”

“That’s offensive,” Frank says neutrally.  “Anyway, sure, maybe I don’t need to be taking runs around the neighborhood at three in the morning anymore, And I wasn’t really getting anywhere with the LEGO Star Wars sets, either, but I had to let my campaign go!”

“Your campaign?” Yolanda questions. “Were you moonlighting for the military?”

“Dungeons and Dragons,” Frank supplies.

“Dungeons and Dragons?” A familiar throaty voice, one that tugs a smile on the corner of Frank’s lips, which then causes Yolanda to turn her head so they can’t see her roll her eyes, comes from behind Frank. Frank turns to see Mel approaching them. She has a bagel of her own, and a dab of cream cheese on the corner of her lip, which Frank wets his thumb so he can swipe it away as soon as she’s within distance. He would like to blame it on being a dad more than being heads-over-heels, and he will, later, when Yolanda bugs him about it. For now, he accepts that he finds Mel arousing and adorable in equal, frustrating measures.

“Dungeons and Dragons,” Frank says. “You play?”

“Ah—no.” Mel’s cheeks, which had started turning pink, turn over to redness. “I’ve always wanted too, though. You said you had a campaign?”

“I used to DM a campaign,” Frank explains. “Over Zoom, with some guys from college. I had to let it go. We’ve been talking about starting one, though.”

“That’s so cool,” Mel says genuinely.

Yolanda rejoins the conversation: “You are the first person in the history of ever to say that.”

“You should join us,” Frank tells Mel. “I’ll teach you how to play.”

day twenty-five: overwhelm, 499 words @kingdonmicrofic

Frank is the only one who notices when she leaves the bar, so he makes up an excuse about needing air and follows her.

She’s leaning against the building, right near the window, and she lets out a breath when she sees him, mumbling something he doesn’t hear.

“You OK?”

“No.”

That worries him, expecting her to pretend she’s fine even though he knows when she’s upset, so he gets closer, standing right in front of her.

“What’s wrong? Do you need to go home? I can drive you,” he says. “I don’t really want to be here anyway, I like it better when it’s just us.”

She takes a breath and says, “I think we need a bit of space.”

He puts a hand on his chest over his heart, and jokingly says, “Are you breaking up with me?”

She doesn’t laugh, though, not getting the joke or not thinking he’s funny.

“We should focus on work because you’re going to be an attending and I’m starting my last year of residency. It’ll be easier if we don’t have to make time for each other outside of the hospital.“

“Mel, what’s going on?”

He knows that it’s hard for her to let someone in, but he thought he was different.

“It’s too much, you’re always there, even when you shouldn’t be. It’s confusing, you overwhelm me and I can’t fucking take it.”

He flinches at her tone, chest tight with unease, scared that she knows he’s into her.

“Oh, sorry, I just — I’ll do whatever you want, you deserve that. But I’ll always be here for you, whenever you need it.”

“Do you not realize what you’re doing? God, Frank,” she says, hands clenching. “You’re somebody else’s husband.”

It’s like being struck by lightning.

“So, that’s what this is really about?”

Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out, and that’s all he needs to know.

“What if I wasn’t somebody’s husband?”

She gasps, and he steps closer, says, “I’ll leave her tomorrow, and be there to pay attention to you, love you, take care of you. That’s what you want, right?”

He’s in her orbit now, or maybe she’s caught in his, it’s hard to tell.

She puts her hands on his chest, gripping his shirt, and he holds onto her hips, pulling her closer.

“Frank,” she whispers.

He dips his head down slowly, and she looks up at him, eyes wide, but he doesn’t kiss her, moving at the last moment to press his lips to the corner of her mouth, then along her jawline.

She’s breathing heavy, chest brushing against his body, and he smirks, kissing just below her ear.

“Does this overwhelm you, too?”

“Yes,” she whispers. “Frank, please.”

And then he kisses her, brushing his lips against hers as they stand on the sidewalk, their coworkers too drunk to notice that they’re gone.

She wakes up to sound of banging on her door.

Disoriented, she reaches and grabs her glasses and phone off her nightstand. When she goes to check the time, her phone doesn’t light up. She frowns, and then notices the streetlight outside isn’t lit. A peal of thunder shakes the building. The storms must’ve knocked the power out.

The banging sounds again.

She gets out of bed and creeps into the kitchen, picking up her Apple Watch. The battery is still, miraculously, at 14%. She squints down at the tiny screen – it’s 3:13 AM. Who the hell is knocking on her door at 3:13 AM?

Then, she sees all the notifications on her watch. Twelve messages from Frank.

“Shit,” she mutters, dropping her watch onto the counter.

She jogs across the room, flings the front door open. He’s standing there, in a zip-up hoodie and joggers, soaked from the November rain.

“Frank,” she breathes, ushering him inside.

“Sorry,” he whispers, “I shouldn’t have come. I shouldn’t have woken you up, but…”

He trails off, but she doesn’t push him. She knows he’ll tell her when he’s ready.

Instead, she takes his hand and leads him further into her apartment.

“Come on. You must be freezing.”

She grabs a lighter out a drawer in the kitchen, and then they walk down the hall and to her bedroom. She lights the rosewater candle she keeps on her dresser, casting a soft yellow glow inside the room.

Slowly, she helps him undress, unzipping the sweatshirt and peeling off the white t-shirt he has on underneath. He really is soaked, his skin clammy, fingertips pruney. She pushes his sweatpants and boxers down his legs next, helps him step out of them, and then gathers the wet garments and leaves the room, throwing them in the dryer in the hall.

When she comes back in with a towel from the bathroom, he has his arms wrapped around himself, shivering. He looks so small for someone who usually takes up so much space, is so full of life.

She runs the towel over his skin quickly. Afterwards, she leads him to the bed, and then strips her shirt off and joins him under the comforter.

She wraps her arms around him, places her head on his chest, hears the rapid rhythm of his heart. She slows her breathing, presses kisses to his collarbone until his heartbeat steadies.

“Abby knows,” he says, finally.

She stills against him.

“She kicked me out,” he continues. “She’s going to try for full custody of the kids.”

“Oh, Frank,” she murmurs.

He curls further around her, presses his mouth against the crown of her head

“Please never leave me, baby,” he begs quietly. “Please never leave.”

She shifts further up the bed, so that she can cradle him against her chest, now. She tangles her fingers in his hair as he tightens his hold on her, feeling his tears melt into her skin.

@kingdonmicrofic | july 26 | prompt: whimsy | 429 words

Now

“Poor Langdon, having to get ready with a group of girls. Is that why he’s been hiding?”

Yolanda cackled at Samira’s words as she adjusted the straps of her silver dress. “No, it’s good for him. He was so grumpy for so long.” She grinned at Mel. Yolanda kind of confused her, but she obviously cared about Frank, and she was happy they were friends. “He needed some joy and whimsy in his life.”

“So did Mel,” Samira added. She pinned another curl to the back of her head, winking at Mel.

Somewhere above him, a door opens. Joyous laughter spills into the stairwell before it shuts again with a distant metallic bang.

Frank tips his head back against the wall, exhaling deeply.

He’s always liked the stairwell. Tucked out of the way, quieter than other refuges in the department. Before, he liked to climb to the landing and pace. Now though, he’s perched on the stairs, one foot planted firmly on the floor, the other two steps up. Arms firmly crossed against his chest. The smell of concrete, disinfectant, and dust heavy in the air.

There’s a voice in his head that reminds him it wouldn’t be weird if he joined his coworkers up on the roof. He was invited, maybe out of pity, but invited nonetheless. It’s been a long time since he was invited somewhere. Longer, still, since he’s heard from his coworkers — the so-called tight-knit family of the Pitt who had no issues leaving him in radio silence for the past ten months. 

Seconds pass by, and just as he shifts to push off the wall and head home instead, the door next to him flings open.

He startles, and lolls his head to see Mel stuck in the frame, frozen mid-motion like she didn’t expect to see anyone. She looks disheveled, hairs escaping her braid in thick tendrils, flyaways frizzing out around her temples, haloing her face in chaotic tangles of gold. Her glasses sit askew on her nose, framing the little mole beneath her eye more than normal.

“Oh!” She squeaks, nervously readjusting her bag, barely keeping it on her shoulder. “Dr. Langdon! Sorry— I didn’t mean—”

“Just me, Mel.” He smiles quickly, hoping to ease her nerves. “I don’t bite.”

Her shoulders ease down from her ears slightly. Good, he thinks. Progress. He nods to the spot next to him and sighs in relief when she takes his invitation to join him.

“You headed up?” He asks, gesturing vaguely upward.

She flinches, eyes fixed to the floor. “I, uh, I didn’t get invited.”

A small laugh huffs out, more disbelief than anything, but the noise dies in his throat when he sees she isn’t smiling. Instead, her lips form a tight line, and her eyes nervously shift around, never quite meeting his.

Him he understands, but her? Who would leave Mel out? 

“Fucking jackasses,” he breathes out, malice undisguised. Fuck that, he thinks. And fuck them. 

Frank stands abruptly, extending his hand. She hesitates only a second, then fits her palm firmly in his, letting him lead her out into the parking garage.

“What are we—”

@kingdonmicrofic • Day 26: Whimsy • 437/437 • Rated: T

•••

“Oh, there’s a deep forearm laceration in North 3 that I’d like you two to take over, think you’re up for it?” The two new interns in her care this morning simply nodded in unison. Both were new to PTMC and already at odds with one another, so Mel sent them off to suture in silence—or hopefully work through their grievances—away from the rest of the ED. “And present to Dr. Langdon after you’re done.”

Pleased, she smiled to herself and returned to her charting when her ear picked up on Trinity and Victoria’s whispers. Unsure who was speaking, she only heard that’s gotta be some kind of record from across the computer.

“What is?”

Trinity replied first since Victoria averted her attention to swallow her laughter. “Melsie, are you kidding? You and your little—” she gestured her head in the direction of the interns that scurried away a minute ago.

“My little what?”

“Come on, sister,” she scoffed, “you pair people off then they start dating or hooking up or whatever. The first two were freak accidents but this is the 7th couple this month.”

Well, that was utterly confusing. “It’s simple task delegation… all the senior residents have that responsibility, Dr. Santos.”

“Sure,” Victoria leaned over the desk to back the claim, “but you and Langdon called in two med students to help with a STEMI last year and now they’re both in the Bahamas.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with—”

“There was also the burn patient you assigned to that new R3 and the surgical resident you sent her up the elevator with—Garcia caught them making out two shifts later.”

Within four minutes, Trinity and Victoria named as many instances as they could recall.

"Doctors Simmons and Everette—both taken before you meddled, then the intern you asked Langdon to schedule on Valentine’s who ended up falling for nurse Emma days after she dumped her boyfriend. Oh, and that new doc from Seattle and the med student he despised until you assigned them a road rash case.”

Mel cut in then. “That was practically a zen exercise. Those guys needed to calm down!”

“Please, they fucked out all the tension just like your new interns in North 3 will after they're done suturing.” Victoria forced away another laugh as Trinity kept talking. “Face it, King, you’re ER cupid—part of your charm. You're whimsical in that way. You're also an HR nightmare.”

Day 26-Whimsy | Exact WC 437 | ao3 | @kingdonmicrofic

Mel watched Frank drum his fingers against the steering wheel, his voice intertwining with his children’s as they all sang along–poorly and completely off beat–to Don’t Stop Believing blaring from the speakers. 

Mel was never much for unnecessary or exaggerated volume, but something about it coming from the man she loved, and his two children who had quickly become two of the most important humans in her life, brought her a sense of peace she never thought possible.

She looked back at them in the rear view mirror.

Penny had just lost her two front teeth, which added extra cuteness to her already adorable Rapunzel costume. Her long auburn hair cascaded over her shoulder in a braid adorned with flowers that Mel had done that morning.

Tanner’s dark hair fell across his forehead in soft strands and dangled down into his bright blue eyes–well, eye. Considering he had an eye patch on. Practically a carbon copy of his father. Especially now, decked out in his pirate gear, just like Frank.

Mel, who was begged by Penny to match just like “the boys”, abandoned her typical 17th century French milkmaid costume for a matching Rapunzel-style dress and braid.

Mel looked over at Frank then, who had his eyes focused on the road, and scanned the stubble that covered his jaw. He’d grown it out for a few days, in preparation for his costume. She couldn’t stop herself from reaching out and swiping the pad of her thumb over it, resting her hand on the back of his neck.

He leaned into her touch, his chest rising and falling as he inhaled deep and slow.

The scruffy pirate look was something else.

When they pulled into the lot of the renaissance faire, the gravel crunching under the tires, Frank automatically turned on his “whimsy”. He put on his best pirate accent, turning around to his kids and egging on their excitement with an, “Alrighty my lovely princess and first matey, who’s ready to set sail on the voyage of a lifetime?”

Mel’s cheeks almost hurt from how big her smile was, watching Tanner and Penny excitedly unbuckle and jump around the backseat, their little bodies almost bursting with all of the anticipation.

Mel had been hyping this up for months, and of course she already planned out how their day would go.

But, as soon as they walked through the gate, it became clear that Tanner and Penny had their own plans.