L 🫐

she/her 21

[cynicscene]

mel: beep beep beep

frank: i want to understand it; i wanna figure out how to speak that language

[t3nmartha]

mel probably doesn't have an emergency contact btw

[t3nmartha]

Is Mel 27 or 29? I feel like she should be 29 after 8 years of school + 3 years of residency... unless she skipped a few grades or something? 😭

[nenedotjpg]

you're my first heartache i guess (inspired by rivers and roads by @cvldbones!!)

song link🎶

[fourteenth-doctor]

[kingdonagegap]

We need to sexualize the size difference more

[kingdonagegap]

yeah..... yeah.....

[ngalitzine]

NCUTI GATWA as The Doctor DOT & BUBBLE

[kingdonagegap]

[tackycardiaa]

Day 27: Opalite

@kingdonmicrofic @kingdonmacrofic - july 27 - wc: 816 (oops) - cw: mature, drunk mel, overuse of the f-bomb, frank langdon is a pining loser as usual

-

Frank is fucked.

He’d overheard Mel talking about her weekend plans--again. He’d been overhearing everything she said lately, and that was supposed to be something he didn’t need to think about, but this time, he’d went ahead and revealed he’d been eavesdropping, and now he’s fucked.

She’s going on some winery tour with a couple old friends from med school, and she’s trying to parse out the cost of hiring a driver for the day.

Frank does not drink wine. Frank does not work Saturday. So Frank says, “I could do it.”

Mel jumps, startled by his presence in the locker room. “Sorry, what?”

Right, he’s just ambushed her with a vague statement. Not at all creepy.

“I could drive you and your friends around Saturday.”

“Oh! Um, no, I couldn’t ask you to...” She trails off, eyes gleaming behind her glasses, and then she hums. “Actually, it would be nice to have a driver I trust.”

So this is how he finds out she trusts him. He. Is. Fucked.

Especially now that Mel’s perched in his front seat in a sundress, giggling with a burgundy tinted smile. With every stop, she sings along to her carefully curated "winery tour pop mix," and it starts to feel like she’s singing the lyrics at him rather than with her friends. (This was fine when it was a song like Opalite by Taylor Swift, but a little less fine when it’s Tears by Sabrina Carpenter, and she points at him while saying “I get wet at the thought of you,” for example.)

In his state of absolute fuckedness, he refuses to go into any of the wineries with them, insisting he’s only here for the driving, and that way he feels better about accepting a payment for his services. He is less than impressed with her old friends as they really only speak to each other during the car rides rather than bothering to include Mel, but Mel either doesn’t care or notice. With how much she keeps talking to him, he eventually stops caring, too.

At the last stop, a tipsy Mel leans over the console towards him with a lovely flush dusting over her cheeks and neck. When her friends promptly exit the vehicle from the backseat, Mel stays put.

“I have a question,” her voice slurs, and he knows whatever she’s planning to ask probably wouldn’t be something approved by sober Mel, but he’s too frozen by her sudden grip on his arm to stop her. “Why did you volunteer to drive me today?”

“I was free,” he says. It's the truth, but it tastes an awful lot like a lie.

“Liz thinks it’s because you have a crush on me,” she says, and Frank dies. “She says no ER doctor on his Saturday day off is gonna drive around a bunch of drunk girls unless he wants to ‘bang’ one of them.”

She makes a face as she says it, but Frank died about ten seconds ago, so he doesn’t see it.

“I don’t want to… bang you.”

But as soon as it’s out of his mouth, he knows it’s another lie. Mel is beautiful, kind, and smart. She'd be beautiful writhing beneath him, especially with her sundress bunched up beneath her ribs. She’d be kind, probably make sure they were in a better position for his back. And last, but certainly not least, she’d be smart about all of it—researching and scouring the internet for articles and think pieces on the most efficient ways to achieve an orga—

Oh, god. He is fucked.

“Did you think I did?” he asks, heart hammering.

She shrugs. “I don’t know. She has a point.”

He really does not like this Liz friend of hers.

“Oh well,” she goes on, “But if you change your mind, will you let me know?”

Frank can’t breathe, can’t handle the information buried within her question. Her glassy eyes tell him she has no idea what secret she’s disclosed, and he’s suddenly very happy to be the one driving her around if these are the kind of dangerous things she lets pass her lips.

“Do you want me to change my mind?”

Is he such a scumbag for taking advantage of the wine’s magical truth telling abilities? Yes, of course, he's always been a scumbag, but this might be the only way he’ll ever know if he can move forward with her. To see if he’s actually been waiting for something that could actually occur between them.

She squeezes his arm. “I want you to do whatever you want. Whomever? Hmm, grammar.”

His chest is heavy, and then she lets go of him, laughing as she exits the car. He thinks she takes his heart with him.

This time, he follows after her. You know, for her safety.

Frank is fucked.

(Metaphorically, this time. Literally, a few weeks later.)

[miracle-and-wonder]

realizing that literally all of frank and mel's things in season 2 are "inside things"

him telling her about his addiction in a private room with the door shut

her whispering the answer to help him with robby

perlah waits for mel to leave before being becca's nurse and all the other conversations with becca are also done in a private room or outside in the ambulance bay away from everyone else. frank even brings up hippa which means he can't discuss any part of it in public.

the break room scene where they're alone again behind a closed door and the creation of another inside joke

and finally the fireworks where they're filmed from behind, we're listening to them talk over their shoulders

not to mention all the times we see them step away from the main action together. their relationship is contained to just be with each other, and the audience is the one walking in on it.

[rosie-tyler]

@thepittmonth Week 4: humor, sadness, and tension

[t3nmartha]

we're always talking about our favorite kingdon headcanons... what's y'all's least favorite? 👀 #curious

[t3nmartha]

the way people mischaracterize mel king genuinely needs to be studied...

[samirasystole]

supriya ganesh is employed, the sun is shining, this is a fantastic day

[kingdoncrumbs]

whimsy | @kingdonmicrofic july 26 | 387

    read on ao3

 “I think it finally happened,” said Trinity, her eyes stalking him from behind the nurses station.

     “How can you be sure?” asked Dennis.

      The bet had been going on for months by then, the amount of money in the pot ever-increasing as more and more of the staff caught on to the inevitability of freshly divorced Dr. Langdon fucking Mel King. It took all of one shift with his ring notably absent for rumors to begin swirling, whispers traveling through the halls every time he grazed her back or she watched him from across the room with her mouth open.

     Today was the first time in a long time that Frank was high-powered, bouncing around the ED on the balls of his feet, hands swooping through his hair and a smirk always tugging on the corner of his mouth.

     “Are you kidding? God, Huckleberry, you have so much to learn.”

     “She’s right, y’know,” said Victoria, sliding across the desk. “I mean look at him. He has his whimsy back.”

     He zipped from room to room in record speed before stopping suddenly, soles of his shoes squeaking against the tiled floor. His eyes lit up, wrinkles in his forehead softening when he spotted Mel walk in from the locker room. The tip of his tongue darted out between his lips, shaking his head as he finally looked away.

     Ahmad sauntered over to the nurses station now, crossing his arms over his chest as he began to speak to her across the floor, entirely in their own world.

     “Bet’s over, kids. Watch, when her braid moves.”

     Frank made her laugh then, like he was always trying to, and Mel threw her head back, hair swooping to reveal a hickey pressed into the tender part of her neck. A faint mark just behind the ear, soft and purple against her peachy flesh.

     “But… couldn’t that be from anybody?” Dennis asked.

     His hand moved to rest on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly as she gazed into his eyes like she was hypnotized, watch swaying before her. Just for a moment, his thumb dragged up her neck, pressing into the mark there before sliding back down. Trinity shot him a glare, eyebrow raised and lip snarled.

     “Alright,” said Dennis, digging into the pocket of his scrubs, “You got me. Deal’s a deal.”

[silkangelkisses]

[irlitgirl]