#sun fics

t rating // wc: 426 🌟 // ao3

inspired by salmonblurb farm animal au on twitter

day 4 | day 5 | day 6

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"He's going over there again." The farmer's wife says, giggling over her tea. "I gave him two this time."

The farmer doesn't have to look to know she'll see Frank (or Frankie to her), their draft horses, running over to the duck pond with a mouth full of Gala apples…again. Frank spent all of his free time over there. The pond on their property had two ducks, that while technically they didn't own them, they still fed and took care of all the same as their other animals. The farmers wife had especially thought them cute and given them names; Melissa and Rebecca. Frank had taken a liking to them both but especially little old Mel. While Becca was content lazily floating in the pond, Mel loved to waddle in front of him, quacking away to her heart's content, and he loved to listen and watch.

Now, Frank was a stubborn horse. He didn't do anything he didn't want to do and he did not like to be stalled. The farmer had made her peace with that a while ago. It might be easier pulling teeth with her bare hands than getting that horse to do anything. That's why they'd allowed him to roam the land as he pleased until they needed him for work. It was on an especially rainy day that the farmer finally got Frank to go inside his stall with little fuss. A sudden downpour drenching everything, making her clothes stick to her body as she yelled at him to get inside.

"Frankie, there's gonna be thunder, you gotta get in the damn barn." She says, trying to scare him inside, through clenched teeth.

He insists upon himself stomping around the ground, pointing at a bush with his snout. She gives up finally deciding to kneeling down to see just what's got him so riled up. Only to see the two ducks huddled together between the leaves. Of course it is. What else would it be? The farmer sighs louder than she thinks she's ever sighed in her life. "Frankie, if I let you take them with you, will you get in the barn?"

He stomps his feet at that, neighing his approval.

"Alright, grab them and get." She watches as Frank noses into the bushes, letting the ducks run up his snout, down his neck, settling on his back, and running off into the barn for once.

t rating // wc: 483 // ao3

day 22 | day 23 | day 24

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Frank used to think he didn't care for the color red…until he met Mel. The way her cheeks blushed in that dimpled smile when she was finally got one of his jokes or the rosy tip of her nose when she was hard at work on any case. For the longest time, he could never figure out what it meant when he started to associate the color in every shade with her. In his mind, red is aggression, anger, and frustration and Mel's the complete opposite of those emotions. In spite of all that she's been through in her life, she's everything precious and right with the world.

He sees her wearing make up for the first time when they go out for drinks with their friends. It's subtle in a way that's so Mel, more so choosing to emphasize what was already beautiful about her.

"It suits you. I really like the red." He says softly, sure he's blushing himself with the warmth he feels.

"It's technically a maroon." She says in that matter of fact way only she can make sweet as she fiddles with her fingers. There she goes, blushing again sending his heart into a tailspin.

It's later that night when they've settled into his living room couch sharing a bottle of water to stave off the hangover. They didn't bother with the lights knowing they couldn't handle them being moderately buzzed, her especially, choosing instead to open the patio curtains for natural moonlight. Frank finds himself being unable to help himself from watching her. They sit in any easy silence; Mel's legs over his lap as he scratches the hairs at the nape of her neck, her eyes closed enjoying the feeling. She's always gorgeous but he finds her especially so tonight, all undone and so comfortably against him.

Suddenly Mel opens her eyes and Frank swears his heart falls out of his chest when she stares back him, fluttering her eyelashes. Were he not a doctor himself he would think he was dying. He knows he has a strange look on his face when she eyes him suspiciously, always looking for something deeper in him.

Frank doesn't even really think about the words before the words spill out. He just says them because it's the truest thing hes ever felt. "You know…you're my best friend."

t rating // wc: 336 // ao3

tags: petergwen/spiderman au, reference to a near death experience

day 13 | day 14 | day 15

Frank has his hands wrapped around Mel tighter than he ever has. They're silent on the walk up flights of stairs to his apartment.He's in pain from carrying her and her bags, after spending weeks in those uncomfortable chairs. None of that compares to what she's been through...because of him. How lucky Mel is surviving a thousand foot drop. She's bruised, will barely be able to talk for months in a neck brace but most important, she's alive.

When they get to the bedroom, Frank gently sits her down on the bed, haphazardly putting her things down. He stares at her somberly, breathing heavily. When he's collected himself, Frank quietly walks over to his desk. Mel's eyes follow him the best she can, noticing he has some book. Frank walks back to the bed sitting down with her. He wraps his arms around her, hovering to not irritate her injuries. It's the embroidered sketchbook, she'd gifted him when they graduated. He opens the journal at eye level for her, flipping through the pages. Mel instantly sobs, covering her mouth. Every page is beautiful, vibrantly colored drawings of her.

"I've fought a engineer with a penchant for arms, a lizard man, and a literal vampire." Frank caresses drawn Mel with the same gentleness he does her. "Even when they beat me bloody, broken, and blue, I've never been more scared my entire life than I was seeing you like that."

Frank doesn't entirely know what happened after Mel hit the ground. All he remembers is screaming himself hoarse, swinging for the hills, then waking up next to her bed.

"I know you'll hate it but…I'm done." Frank holds her head, careful as he's ever held anything, sobbing into her hair. "I can't…I can't do it anymore."

g rating // wc: 111 🌟 // ao3

tags: implied post pregnancy for those who aren’t into that

day 1 | day 2 | day 3

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Frank finds Mel where he knew she would be. He can see in the lowly lit room from the hallway through the open door. He peeks in to see her laid on the plush pink rug, caressing the bundle in front of her with her other arm cushioning her head.

He walks in to prevent his heart from exploding in the hallway, carefully closing the door so as not to disturb them. He kneels on the floor, positioning himself to match Mel on the other side of their baby, pulling them closer towards him.

g rating // wc: 355 // ao3

day 1 | day 2 | day 3

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Mel awakens not entirely sure of where she is and how she got here. It takes her a moment to clear her eyes of the blurriness and focus on what's in front of her…it's Roku City on her TV that's now way too bright. She takes note of the cups scattered across the table and the distinct smell of cinnamon and mulling spice in the room.

"Apple cider." She thinks distantly.

She realizes she's drooled all over whatever…whom ever she's sleeping on. She looks over to see Frank softly snoring, almost lost in a pile of his twins as well as her and her sister. He's leaned over into his shoulder with his arms tightly wrapped around them all. Mel's memory starts to come back as her brain turns on. They'd all settled down to watch some seasonal small town romance hallmark slop she thought sounded good in the summary, only for it to put the lot of them to bed. She's never seen Becca so cozy around people other than her. It fills her heart with a warmth akin to their abandoned drinks.

Mel takes a moment to look back at Frank's face, studying all the minor details. He looks so peaceful like this even sleeping on a couch with their little family. She slowly reaches out with the tips of her nails to brush the hair back out of his face, then caressing his cheek with her thumbs. Frank noticeably starts to come to. He seemingly forgets where he was too, squinting at her before he focuses on her with an adoring look behind the tiredness.

"Hey." She breathes out.

"Hi." Frank strains his arm around the younger twins to gently stroke her cheek with his knuckles.

She leans up for a soft kiss on his nose. Frank laughs softly exhaling deeply. He retaliates by kissing her on her forehead, the creases in her scrunched nose, then lastly a chaste peck on her lips, slightly pulling her top lip, finally resting his forehead against hers

g rating // wc: 454 // ao3

day 1 | day 2 | day 3

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"Do you believe in ghosts, Dr. Starling?" He's looking out the window as though he hopes to find something there. She's already noted this previously as a habit of his. He doesn't like to make eye contact when he asks her questions like this. Ones she still cant quite make a connection between.

"In what way, Frank?"

"The normal way…I guess. The kinds that haunt you and your house." His fingers are clenched around each other, pushing and pulling.

She takes off her glasses and places them on the table next to her chair. "I think there's some substance to hauntings and the like. I mostly believe that ghosts are wishes."

"How so?"

"Usually what we say at a funeral is founded on wishes. 'They're in a better place, they're not in pain anymore….they're at peace.'" Her own fingers flex across her notepad.

"What if they aren't dead?" Frank turns to finally meet her intense stare. The soul searching kind all therapists have when they think they're finally getting somewhere with you.

"It applies the same in my mind. Ghosts tend to be manifestations of what we wish for. Grief, anger, regret, guilt, failure." Her eyes become unfocused in his direction, thinking on her own ghosts. "Things we wish we had done or said differently while they were still in our lives. They don't have to be physically dead, per say."

Frank continues to look at her as he rolls the idea around in his mind before he makes an affirmative noise towards the wall again.

"Frank, who are you seeing?" She sees him inhale his breath for a moment, closing his eyes, before he suddenly relaxes. He unclenches his fingers looking at the ball he's created then looks down towards the space on the couch next to him.

He feels her presence before he sees her but he knows she's always there in the same way she always occupies his free mind. She slowly moves her fingers across his shoulder blade, settling at the base of his neck, scratching through the shorter hair there. Frank watches intently as she wraps her other hand around his hand. She's cold in a way a dead body quite isn't. In a way that he knows it isn't really Mel but she still does something so unique to her that's warm and inviting. Mel leans into him settling on his chest, making him exhale deeply and loosen the knots he's looped his fingers into. That gives him the will to muster the means to look at her full formed spirit. Even now, she's all blonde hair and pale skin, rendered more beautiful and relaxed than he had ever actually known her.

t rating // wc: 499 // ao3

day 4 | day 5 | day 6

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Mel sits in the cold on one of the benches the receptionist guided her to. She doesn't really know what to do with herself while she waits for what seems so much longer than she knows it is. She stares intently down at her flexing fingers trying to find the right thing to say. She becomes so lost in her mind as she tends to do she doesn't hear the tell tale click of a push door and the steps in the snow until Frank's already sat down. Her head snaps up, looking him over. His skin is pale, his eyes are dark, and sunken in. His hands shake despite trying to stop them.

"Hey…" Mel finds she has a hard time keeping her eyes on him. "You look…different."

Frank barks at that. "Is that your way of telling me I look like shit?"

Mel opens her mouth to apologize before he's waved it off. "It's fine. I haven't slept a full night in months. Withdrawals a bitch." He has a small smile in spite of his bluntness. This comforts Mel some, it must be something he learned in therapy.

They lull into an uneasy silence before Mel breaks it. "I asked around about you for months. Robby pretty much told me to mind my business about it."

Frank laughs, glad to know Robby was the same. "I was really surprised to hear you wanted to see me. Almost thought I was seeing things."

"You sister came by to get something for you. Dana told me who she was, I asked and she told me to look here." Frank turns to her stunned, narrowing his eyes. "You met Evie?"

Mel nods with pursed lips. Frank doesn't know who's more pissed at him; his sister, Abby, or Robby. He rolls around the ways he's disappointed everyone in his head. All he can do is laugh and nod.

Mel brings him back when she clears her throat."I don't really even know what made me come out here. I guess…I thought we connected. I thought maybe you could use a friend…if you wanted."

"Everyone is beyond upset with me… reasonably." Frank's quiet for a moment to find the right words, knowing how bad he sounds. "I did it to myself but…I need someone right now to not look at me like the fuck up I know I am. So yeah, Mel King, I'd love it if you'd be my friend."

"That's good." Mel exhales and breathes easier. "I'm glad."

Frank reaches out to her hesitantly, hovering his hand over hers. The space between feels the same as magnets trying to pull to each other, so he lets his hand fall in contact. Mel notes that it makes her feel warm despite the weather.