hello, my love, my home

previously elizabethkween/piketrickfeet. amanda. she/her. current hyperfixations: the pitt, football, critical role, dimension 20, food, cats, sleeping, ladies.

[drmels]

Title: the fall and rise of dr. frank langdon

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: The Pitt (TV)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Frank Langdon & Michael "Robby" Robinavitch, Frank Langdon & Cassie McKay, Melissa "Mel" King & Frank Langdon, Donnie Donahue & Frank Langdon, Melissa "Mel" King/Frank Langdon, Yolanda Garcia & Frank Langdon, Dana Evans & Frank Langdon

Characters: Frank Langdon, Michael "Robby" Robinavitch, Melissa "Mel" King, Cassie McKay, Donnie Donahue, Abby Langdon, Tanner Langdon, Penny Langdon, Dana Evans, Yolanda Garcia, Trinity Santos

Additional Tags: Drug Use, Rehabilitation, Post-Rehab Frank Langdon, Friendship, Post-Season/Series 01, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Nerd4Nerd, the friends part of friends to lovers

Summary: After Frank hits rock bottom, his community becomes a ladder, helping to pull him back up.

written for @thepittbigbang with art by @oftennix

[drmels]

day fourteen | cake

for @kingdonmicrofic july challenge

tags: melxlangdon, gen, is frank married in this? who can tell, 113 words

He apologizes when halfway through their lunch date, the daycare calls and says that Penny popped a fever and can he please come pick her up. Mel assures him that it’s fine and hops up to pay the bill while he boxes up their leftovers.

She helps him settle his daughter in her booster seat when he picks her up, and Penny's just as chatty as ever, but Frank can see the red flush on her cheeks. At home, Mel lets her play with makeup until she gets sleepy, pretending to put blush on and swiping lipgloss across her mouth.

When he kisses Mel in his kitchen, she tastes like vanilla cake frosting.

[zolusbian]

@kingdonmicrofic day thirteen: smoke - 295 words - recreational drug use (marijuana), college au, title from here

Mel doesn’t know what she’s doing. Generally, but also now, sitting on the floor of Trinity’s dorm room with her knees pulled up to her chest while her friends pass around a joint. Mel has never smoked before. She’s had edibles, and she’s liked those, but never inhaled anything.

When Trinity passes her the joint, she tries to copy what she’s watched the others do. She sucks too hard and fast, her lungs filling past capacity, and coughs hard. Frank, sitting to her right—she had been trying not to think about why he sat by her—thwacks her on the back. Says, “Easy, girl.” The words prickle down Mel’s spine, southbound.

“Chill, Mel-sothelioma,” Trinity chuckles. She turns from Dennis, to Yolanda, to them all. “Get it? ‘Cause she coughed?”

But Mel isn’t paying attention to Trinity and her jokes, because her fingers are brushing against Frank’s as she hands him the joint. He smiles at her, a big but private, smile. Southbound.

“Here, like this,” he says lowly, just for her ears. She watches him take a small drag, hold his breath, and then breathe out a steady cloud. “Try again.”

Mel takes the joint back and tries again. It does go more smoothly, and she passes it back to him.

“I think I like the edibles better,” she says, also speaking lowly, just for him to hear, while the rest of the group debates if mesothelioma primarily affects the lungs or not.

Frank licks his lips. His eyes flick to the rest of the group, then back to her. “Try this, instead,” he says. Before she knows it, he has his hand on her face, coaxing her to open her mouth, so he can blow smoke inside.

“Hey, lovebirds! Stop hogging the joint.”  

[drmels]

day thirteen | smoke

for @kingdonmicrofic july challenge

tags: melxlangdon, teen+, smoking, 295 words

Frank trades vice for vice and picks up smoking after rehab. Mel knows she should find it disgusting and a total turnoff. She should be thinking of the way his lungs are turning black or the way the smell of it hovers on his clothes. Instead, she thinks of the way his long fingers hold the cigarette, the way his lips wrap around the end of it, pursed and pretty, the way his voice is just a little bit lower, a little bit raspier, when he comes back inside.

He reminds her of those movies from the 60’s, the ones with greasers and leather jackets and women who weren’t afraid to go after the men they wanted. She can just imagine him with his hair slicked back (except for that one piece that’s constantly in his face; she has a love/hate relationship with that piece), his white t-shirt with the arms just a little too tight, his denims hugging all the best parts of him.

There’s an afternoon where she finds him in the ambulance bay, watches him take a drag with the hand that no longer carries the weight of a gold band, and she thinks he’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. She finds herself drawn to him, pulled toward him like a magnet, until she’s sharing the same air as him, thick with smoke and the smell of him.

“Mel, hey, sorry,” he says and he moves to stub out the cigarette and she should let him. She should remind him that it’s a nasty habit, that it’s just another crutch that he doesn’t need, not if she’s there.

Instead, she puts her hand out to rest on his. “It’s okay,” she answers, and it’s the opposite of a lie.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

(someone write the shotgunning fic this didn't quite turn into)

[marveldaily]

Logan dir. James Mangold 

[niccolos]

– Nayyirah Waheed

[drmels]

day twelve | gold

for @kingdonmicrofic july challenge

tags: melxlangdon, gen, abby maidenname and family bonding, 340 words

Abby doesn’t bother knocking on their door anymore, just uses the key Mel had given her months before Clementine was born, and kicks off her shoes as soon as she’s through the entranceway. Years removed from the divorce, Frank and Abby can honestly call themselves friends, something she hadn’t thought possible in the beginning.

She calls out for her children, wandering the halls until she hears the sound of her daughter beckoning her to Tanner’s room. When she gets there, she finds her ex-husband, his wife, and their toddler piled on Tanner’s bed, with Penny sitting on the floor against the side, one hand clinging to Frank’s ankle and the other holding a battered stack of papers.

“Sorry, I’m early,” she says, and Mel just shakes her head before patting the bed next to her.

“You’re fine,” the blonde answers and shifts slightly as Abby climbs up next to her after pressing a kiss to Penny’s head. “We’re quizzing Tan on chemistry.”

“Science Olympiad tryouts are next week,” Frank says, reaching over to run a hand down to Abby’s, squeezing her fingers in welcome. When they’d realized the passion Tanner had for science, they’d decided to do everything they could to help nurture that passion.

She’s sure they’ll be doing the same with Penny and literature here shortly, just based on the number of books she checks out from the library weekly.

“What’s next, Pen?” Frank asks as he leans back to his spot.

Penny squints at the paper in her hand and then looks up at her brother, brows furrowed in confusion. “Au?” she says, but she pronounces it “aah-ooh” and the adults laugh which sends Clem into her own set of giggles.

“Just say the letters, Penny,” Tanner replies with a sigh and Abby just knows this has been an ongoing challenge.

“Oh. Um, big A, little u,” Penny says confidently, smiling up at her big brother.

All the adults watch as he mirrors his sister’s furrowed brow before his eyes light up and his posture straightens.

“Gold!”

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[drmels]

day eleven | surprise

for @kingdonmicrofic july challenge

tags: melxlangdon, gen, melpreg summer or something, 186 words

Frank finds her in the bathroom early on a Sunday morning, the sun just barely over the horizon, and they’d definitely had plans to sleep in. But he wakes up and her side of the bed is empty, but still slightly warm, and he can see the soft, orange glow of the bathroom spreading out under the door.

He’s quiet when he cracks open the door where he finds her with her hands pressed against the counter, leaning over something he can’t see, her eyes tightly closed as she takes deep, calming breaths.

He knows something is off, but he can’t help but admire her figure in his old PTMC Softball shirt, her hair falling in waves over her shoulders.

“Hey,” he whispers and she doesn’t jump, just kind of freezes before letting out a slow breath. “What’s up, baby?”

She doesn’t turn to him, but she does let go of her tension bit by bit before she moves again. He watches as she takes another deep breath before leaning back to reveal the counter and the small white stick sitting on a paper towel.

“Surprise.”

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[drmels]

day ten | feast

for @kingdonmicrofic july challenge

tags: melxlangdon, mature, tickling, 301 words

Frank finds out that Mel is ticklish by accident. They’re painting Becca’s room in the new apartment, a soft orange that she’d picked out last weekend. It’s down to Mel and Frank to do the actual painting, but Becca is there, coming in and out of the room with snacks and drinks and constructive criticism.

At one point they start bickering over something and Becca’s tactic to winning is to poke Mel right in the side, causing her sister to jerk sideways and laugh in a way that Frank wants to hear forever.

“Are you ticklish?” he asks with a smile on his face, one that widens when she turns to him with a mock glare.

“Don’t even think about it,” she says and waves a dripping brush in his face.

*****

Later, when she’s bare beneath him, looking like an absolute feast, he runs his hands down her sides softly. He barely has to dig his fingers into the soft skin of her waist before she’s squirming under him, her laughter breathy and hot against his lips, as she tries to get away.

“You are ticklish,” he whispers and presses himself against her. “Amazing.”

She tries to shake her head, but she’s also trying to kiss his jawline and press herself closer and he can feel her fingernails in his shoulderblades.

“You are,” he says again and he wouldn’t be the kind of doctor he is without doing more research. He slides his hand down her hip, across the soft part of her belly, and has to hold himself back when she jerks against his fingers and moans his name in a laugh.

He kisses the sound from her mouth and decides right there that his sole mission is to find every single ticklish spot, no matter how long it takes.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[drmels]

day nine | gift

for @kingdonmicrofic july challenge

tags: melxlangdon, gen, frank's love language is gift giving, 446 words

The first gift Frank ever gives her is a simple hair tie. When hers had been roughly ripped out of her braid by an overly rambunctious four year old who’d yelled “Rapunzel!” right before launching herself at Mel’s scalp, Frank had been right there with a plain black band he kept around his wrist. He’d held it up in front of her face before laughing and taking the broken one from her and she’d smiled and blushed and tried to ignore the burst of butterflies in her belly.

Later, when they’re standing side by side at the lockers, she fidgets with the end of her braid and offers to return it. He just laughs again and plays with her hair, their fingers bumping together, and says “Nah, it’s a gift.” If she wears that hairband until it also breaks, well, no one needs to know.

***** He gives her another gift on February 3, surprising her with a bright purple giftbag after taking her and Becca for a birthday dinner. She’s used to the warm feeling that rolls through her body whenever he does something incredibly kind, even tonight it’s happened more than once. When he gave Becca her own gift and walked them to their door and whispered a soft “Happy Birthday, Mel” in her ear when he gave her the present.

Opening the bag, that feeling spreads all the way to her toes. She pulls out a stethoscope, her gaze moving from it to Frank’s eyes, which haven’t moved from hers. Mel runs her hands over the tubing, a soft rubber in a neutral gray color, before coming to a stop at the matte black bell.

“Your’s was getting kind of rough,” he says, his mouth quirked up on one side. He’s not wrong, her daily stethoscope had definitely seen better days with scratches on the diaphragm and chunks of rubber missing from the stem.

“My mom gave me that one,” she responds, still running her fingers up and down the main body of the instrument.

“Oh, shit, Mel, I’m sorry,” tumbles out of his mouth, smile gone now and she hates that. “You don’t have to use that one,” he continues, and his hands flutter near her like he’s going to snatch the stethoscope away and toss it out of her view.

She tugs it against her chest, the eartips bumping into her collarbones, and bites her lip as she catches his eye again. “Frank, I love it.”

***** His third gift is the sweetest of all, when he finds her on the roof at the start of spring, the gold band that had been haunting them finally gone, and presses his lips against hers.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[raainstorms]

[seongpinkhwa]

can you trigger tag bisexuality please

no but i can fuck both your parents

[drmels]

day eight | midnight

tags: melxlangdon, gen, pregnant mel summer or whatever we're calling it, 323 words

Frank has to assume that whoever scheduled him for nights the week before he’s supposed to be off has an intense, all encompassing hatred for him. That’s the only reason he can think of why he’s in the emergency room at 10:57 p.m., exhausted and behind on his charting. He could be at home, indulging in some quality Girlfriend Snuggle Time, pressed up tight behind Mel, nose in her hair and knees tucked in behind hers. He can picture her so clearly, twisted up in bed in one of his old college shirts, hair spread across their soft green pillows and arm curled protectively around her protruding belly. 

He takes a second to check his phone for the first time in hours, frowning when he sees several missed calls from Mel, a couple from Abbot, and even one from Abby. His body does this incredibly scary thing that he’s only felt three other times in his life, his blood turning to ice before his entire body starts to sweat.

The quick buzz of his phone in his hand makes him jump, and he scrambles to answer when he sees Mel’s name flash across the screen. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks frantically, his chair squeaking loudly when he stands quickly. “What happened?” 

“Don’t freak out,” Mel says quickly and Frank is already moving to the stairs. She sounds winded, like she’s been working out, but he can hear the undercurrent of pain and tears in her voice. “Can you come up to the fifth floor?” 

He laughs breathlessly, springing up the stairs two at a time. “Baby, I’m already there,” he replies, pushing open the doors to the labor and delivery department. He hits the end button on the call as he strides into Mel’s room, barely making note of the time as he grabs at his girlfriend’s hand and presses his forehead to hers. 

Clementine King-Langdon is born one minute after midnight.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[drmels]

day seven | karaoke

for @kingdonmicrofic july challenge

tags: melxlangdon, gen, pining, 420 words

Mel loves karaoke. Like loves karaoke. So after that invitation from Trinity and a Fourth of July spent scream singing Alanis Morissette until she didn’t feel like she was vibrating out of her skin, karaoke becomes an almost weekly tradition. The group size and configuration is almost never the same and even Mel has missed out on a few, only slightly jealous when she watches Victoria’s Instagram stories later. Even the venue changes from time to time until all the karaoke bars within a bus ride of the hospital recognize them.

The first time Frank tags along with them, Mel doesn’t sing. She can tell how out of place he feels among the younger residents and med students, nursing a sparkling water and making faces as Dennis and Trinity sing ‘Run, Joey, Run,’ so she stays by him, making awkward small talk and making sure he has a good time. He doesn’t question why she’s not up there singing her heart out with the rest of them, but at the end of the night, he thanks her for keeping him company, pressing a kiss to her cheek before heading to his car.

The next time they all go out, however, she can’t help but answer the call of the microphone. She sings ‘No Scrubs’ with Samira and ‘Barbie Girl’ with Dennis and then finally wanders up to the mic on her own, punching in the song number on the computer with determination.

There’s been this thing for months now between her and Frank. It’s something sweeter, stronger, than friendship, and it’s driving Mel crazy with how she wants. And she knows she can miss social cues, but she can’t miss the way Frank finds her from across the ER every time they share a shift, the way he’s slowly integrated himself into her life now that he’s no longer married.

As the starting chords of ‘crushcrushcrush’ start to play, Mel throws caution to the wind and tears off her glasses, tossing them towards Dennis who scrambles to catch them. She shakes her hair out of her braid just as the words for the first verse come on to the screen.

She’s a decent singer, not someone who was ever going to win American Idol, but good enough that she’s not embarrassed to sing along to the goddess that is Haley Williams. By the last rendition of the chorus, the whole bar is singing along, but all she can feel is the intense stare of Frank’s eyes from across the room.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[drmels]

day six | laughter

tags: melxlangdon, gen, nerd4nerd, 325 words

The emergency department at PTMC is always loud, full of the monotonous buzz of constant talking, the high pitched beeping of various equipment, the occasional yelling that ebbs and flows throughout the day. Frank’s gotten used to tuning things out, but there are things that break through the barrier. Like codes being called, the thick silence of a mourning family. 

Mel’s laughter apparently. 

He’s not sure when it started, the ability to know exactly where she was in the ER at any given moment, but apparently his radar is tuned specifically to her. 

It’s a slow day when he hears her laughing from across The Pitt, a throaty sound that carries across to him and worms into his brain like a song he can’t forget, piercing through the fog of charting that he’d fallen into. He won’t say his head snaps up to find her, but it’s a near enough thing, and he can’t help the smile that grows across his face when he finally finds her. 

She’s near North 6, but now she’s standing with an EMT that Frank barely recognizes, her head thrown back and her hands twisted together. He can see, even from his charting station, that the apples of her cheeks are flushed and he can imagine the shine of her eyes as her laugh settles into a soft giggle. 

The EMT looks proud of himself and Frank dislikes the smirk on his face and his general whole demeanor, even if he did successfully make Mel laugh. It wasn’t something that was particularly hard to do, or it wasn’t for Frank, but he’s not used to hearing it from across the room, loud and bright as it is. 

There’s something in his chest that twists as Mel comes back to herself, still slightly chuckling as she speaks with the paramedic. It won’t be until later that Frank realizes he wants to be the only man to make her laugh like that.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[poorly-written-poetry]

[drmels]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Thor (Movies) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Loki/Sif (Marvel) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Sif (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), Melinda May, Clint Barton Additional Tags: Matchmaking, Blind Date, First Dates, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Domestic, Oral Sex, Marriage Proposal, Weddings, Intercrural Sex Series: Part 3 of sifki week 2020 Summary:

He takes her breath away. He looks so happy, content to wait for her, excitement in his eyes when he catches hers, like he just can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with her. Every fear she has about the rash decision she made disappears with the smile on his face.

//

They face each other on the bed, and Sif’s smile is content and soft as he watches her. He pushes hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear and cupping her cheek, taking a moment just to stare at her. How could he have been so extraordinarily lucky that this beautiful, delightful woman had agreed to be with him.