Summary:

Reflecting on how Stan's history of trauma impacts his worldview, how those beliefs are passed on to Dipper, and what the ramifications are.

My submission to the Gravity Falls nonfiction zine "Reading Between the Falls."

Author:

Summary:

For the first time in what must surely be forever, nearly the entire Pines family will gather under one roof. Filbrick has resigned himself to a weekend of dread, terrible small talk, and general disappointment with the state of his family, as he always has for years.

But in the cold night, he begins to see an figure creeping closer and closer. It says nothing, wants nothing, but sometimes, if he listens very carefully, he thinks he can hear something strange-a whistle.

Author:

Day 15: Silk

@kingdonmicrofic

Frank swallows, and the thick lump in his throat crash lands in his stomach. Before him stands Melissa King, golden hair down and dressed only in a delicate, cream colored silk slip. In the warm, low light of her bedroom, the fabric’s luminous shine makes her glow in turn. Yet, were it not for the wine colored blush that spreads from her cheeks all the way down to her chest, it’s nearly impossible for Frank to distinguish where the garment ends and her soft skin begins. Best of all, it hugs her figure in all the right places and is thin enough to reveal the stiff peaks of her tempting nipples. 

“I know it’s not much…” Mel mumbles, biting her lip, refusing to look Frank in the eye. She fidgets with the thin strap that can’t seem to find purchase on her shoulder. 

If Frank weren’t so taken by how absolutely breathtaking she looks, he would scold her. How can she not see how truly beautiful she is? Is it not apparent in his face? In the way he pushes her golden strands behind her ear? In the way he gently takes her chin between his forefinger and thumb and directs her gaze towards his own? 

“It’s perfect, Mel. You’re perfect,” he says, unwavering. 

Mel’s eyes widen, dark pupils overtaking hazel.

“Do you mean it?” she asks, trepidation apparent in the way her voice wavers. 

Frank doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he gently guides Mel’s lips towards his own and kisses her. He pours every bit of his unspoken love into it—cupping her face and rubbing comforting circles into her flushed cheeks. 

And when Frank feels her hands take hold of his wrists and hears a high-pitched whimper, he knows she finally understands.

Day 13: Smoke

@kingdonmicrofic

The first time Mel sees Frank Langdon smoke, she bites the inside of her cheek and holds back a scold that is on the tip of her tongue.

Everyone knows doctors smoke for the same reason line cooks smoke. With long and grueling hours and a high-stress work environment, nicotine is guaranteed to mellow it all out. They can slip out easily, discreetly, for a few minutes and return ready to jump back into the fray.

Faint traces of menthol always linger on Frank Langdon’s skin. This faint, yet crisp spice that Mel, for whatever reason, never wanted to acknowledge, despite it being hard to ignore whenever they happened to be working in close proximity. She always chalked it up to the AA meetings. Lots of former addicts find themselves smoking to quell unwanted urges. When she’s at her most wicked and bitter, she blames it on Abby. She usually imagines Abby as one of those rail-thin, yet effortlessly beautiful, women with a lit Marlboro between her index and middle finger.

But no, it’s Frank. Frank Langon is the one who puts harmful chemicals in his body. Rots his teeth and coats the inside of his lungs with tar, toxic gases, and carcinogens.

He’s killing himself, she thinks bitterly. How could he do this to himself, to his family?

So why, then, does Mel wish she were the cigarette between his lips? Smoking has always been a red flag for Mel. An immediate hard pass and turn off. Frank Langdon shouldn’t change that. But he does, he absolutely does. . He looks so cool when he takes a long drag and sighs deeply as the smoke rushes out from his nose. She could learn to live with the stale smell of tobacco, maybe even love it if it’s what he wants.

Summary:

Summary:

Stanford’s pointer finger extended from his hold, directing itself at the other man. This time when he smiled, there was nothing warm about it.

“You have something that belongs to me, McGucket. I think I’d like it back.”

—

Day 9: Gift

@kingdonmicrofic

(Part 1)

Mel worries her lower lip between her teeth as she stares at her figure in the full-length mirror. The lingerie Trinity had her try on is far more revealing than anything she’d ever wear. Sinfully red, stringy and lacy, leaving nothing to the imagination. She does like how it makes her breasts look bigger, but at the cost of uncomfortable underwire.

“I’m not sure this is what I had in mind for the birthday gift…” she says, snapping the thong‘s thin elastic band, only stinging a little. Judging by how Trinity rolls her eyes, the action garners the desired effect.

“Okay then, what do you suggest? If I remember correctly, this trip was your idea.”

She’s not wrong; it was Mel’s idea. Even going lingerie shopping was Mel’s idea.

“I just don’t think I mesh with the styles here. There’s got to be another store?”

Trinity exhales with a loud and drawn-out raspberry.

“Yeah, but he’s a man,” Trinity says, annoyed, “he’s going to like you in any kind of sexy panties.”

“That may be true,” Mel says to her reflection, “but I need to like myself in the ‘sexy panties’ too. Otherwise, I’m never going to feel confident enough to…you know.”

“You mean, jump his bones?” Trinity deadpans with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms.

Mel’s face flushes redder than the lingerie.

“Yes…It has to be perfect.” She is determined to make Frank’s birthday dinner date truly memorable and special. Securing lingerie that makes her feel confident and comfortable is the final piece of the puzzle.

“And it will be, Melly-belly,” Trinity starts as she hands Mel her clothes so she can change, “but the point of wearing this is for him to take it off. Don’t stress yourself out too much.” She hooks a finger around the elastic of Mel’s bra strap and pulls, letting it snap back with a loud crack.

Now that one did hurt and will definitely leave a mark.

Day 8: Midnight

@kingdonmicrofic

The shift chewed them up and spit them out.

A double, sixteen fucking hours, that seemed to never relent in its cruelty. Gruesome accidents that made even the toughest of doctors relent were seared into their memory. They encountered several inevitable deaths. Which were the worst kind. No matter how hard the staff tried to intervene, patient after patient slipped through their fingers.

The worst of it came from an overturned bus filled with students returning home from a field trip.

Ten injuries, four deaths, all children.

Frank needed to step into the bay after that one. Take in as much fresh air as possible and slow his heart rate to a slower tempo. Mel wasn’t too far behind him with her lava lamp app already open.

By the end of the shift, they were beyond exhausted on every front. Physically, mentally, emotionally. So when Mel slid into the passenger’s seat of Frank’s car, she just stared at the clock on the dashboard.

12:00 AM. Midnight.

“Mel…Are you okay?” Frank asked cautiously. He didn’t move to turn on the car. He just kept his gaze on her, patiently waiting for whatever answer she had for him.

Mel sighed, holding back tears, and wiped her eyes beneath her glasses.

“I just want to go home.”

“Do you want me to stay the night with you?” He offered. There was no hint of any ulterior motives in his tone. Only concern and something else that Mel was afraid to give a name.

A sob caught in Mel’s throat, and tears began to flow. All she could do was nod her head and sniffle. All that carnage. All that death. It finally got to her.

“You got it, don’t worry. I’m gonna get you home,” Frank assured her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to hug her tight. Seatbelt be damned.

Now that she had permission, the floodgates opened, and Frank was there to be the life raft she needed.