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@kingdonmicrofic july 31, alternative prompt: victory (wc: 313/313)
Yesterday Mel smiled at him sixteen times. He's generous with the tally. If they're talking for a while and she doesn’t drop the smile the whole time, he'll call that two, maybe three. It’s not cheating because he makes the rules, and he’s the only one keeping track anyway.
So sixteen is the number to beat. (Frank knows that everyone thinks he’s a loser, especially now that he’s living on his own and struggling to send enough money back to Abby for the kids daycare. But he’s objectively not a loser - he’s beat his own record eight shifts out of ten!)
But today he’s only at fourteen smiles, and she's already clocked out, and she's through the big double doors with her badge gone and her jacket all zipped up, and he still has to turn fourteen into seventeen at least.
So he dashes out the doors behind her, and he shouts her name, and she turns around, startled.
"You did good work today," he says.
She says thanks with a small quizzical smile. Number fifteen, but it barely counts. She’s more confused than pleased.
So then Frank says something else, something he did not plan, which is that he doesn't think anybody tells her enough how good she is at this job, and that he's learned more from her than from Robby or Abbot or anybody. He tells her he always looks forward to seeing her. He tells her she makes him feel like he’s good at the job, too.
It’s all true, but it’s a lot, and it comes out of him so quickly he can barely believe he’s saying it.
And goddamn - Mel’s smile fucking shines.
Fuck it. This one counts as five. That's twenty, and he's not going to write it down, because he'll remember it, and because tomorrow he’ll make it to twenty-one. Frank Langdon is a winner.
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jon’s mommy issues r so bad that sometimes he curls up in sansa’s lap and lets her sing him to sleep while stroking his hair like the black cat he is. on an unrelated note whenever sansa starts missing ned too much and all the bad memories threaten to eat her alive she simply makes jon dress up in ned’s old clothes because they smell like her father and so when jon holds her it reminds her of the old days. also they r normal and well adjusted.
i’m rewatching supernatural, which naturally led me to reread my jonsa spn au, and i made a few minor edits and clean ups! so, im just here to plug it again because i really do fucking love it and am proud of it hehe
read The Family Business here!! you know you want to 😋
There’s fanfiction…. And then there’s FANFICTION. The kind of shit you happen upon at like 3am or some other ungodly time because you were trying to find a fix for ur fixation at the time and you are just SUCKED IN and every sentence feels like a line of cocaine and it has quotes and imagery that permeate your brain and it’s the shit that sticks around in your consciousness forever and it never goes away and it’s always going to be one of Those Fics.
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@kingdonmicrofic july 20, stargazing (wc: 343/314)
They took the red eye because that was the flight the hospital would pay for, and neither of them was in a position to complain. They had the row to themselves. Robby had backed out the night before, and now his seat sat empty between them.
In a few hours they would stand in a hotel ballroom and talk a crowd of physicians through a rare, challenging case they worked last winter. She remembered it well. Not because of the case, but because afterward, Frank - full of adrenaline and relief - had pulled her in for an embrace and lifted her right off the ground. She’d never been held like that before. When she squeaked in surprise, he just squeezed her tighter.
He worked at a different hospital now. They had promised to keep in touch when he left, and she had foolishly believed it. It was as much her own fault as it was his, she supposed. But she still wanted to ask him why.
The cabin lights were off. Mel pressed her forehead to the window and looked out at the stars. She could barely see them, but they were out there, when she really tried.
She turned to glance at Frank, just because he was there. He was awake, which surprised her - the rest of the plane seemed to be asleep. But he was watching her instead, head resting back against the seat, gaze steady like he'd been doing it a while.
She tapped the window with one knuckle, softly, and lifted her eyebrows. Want to trade seats?
"I can see fine," he said, barely above a whisper.
She turned back to the glass and did not point out that from his seat the window mostly showed the wing.
A few minutes later, his seatbelt clicked. She felt him shift into the middle seat, Robby's seat, and buckle himself in right next to her. Mel kept looking at the stars, and when she felt the side of his arm press against hers, she didn’t move.
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