smolfangirl

[smolfangirl]

'i didn't know where else to go'

Mel looks small and dim when Frank opens the front door to greet her.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” Her arms are wrapped tightly around her stomach. Her voice is low, as if she doesn’t want to disturb the very few stars the Pittsburgh sky is letting them see at three in the morning. As if, more likely, she doesn’t want to disturb Frank’s family sleeping only a floor above them. 

But in the quiet of the night, her erratic breathing is the loudest sound he has ever heard. It starts and splutters and stops and restarts all over again every few seconds. Her face is dry. Her lips are pressed in a tight line. He knows what someone looks like on the verge of a breakdown. He knows what she looks like on the edge of a breakdown. 

Wordlessly, he asks her to come in by extending his right hand out to her. 

Wordlessly, she accepts his invitation by threading their fingers together and squeezing them so tightly his bones grind painfully. 

Everything else in the world ceases to matter as soon as he has her in his arms. He closes the front door mostly on instinct, the routine of it ingrained in his brain so deeply he doesn’t even have to think about it. There is nothing else he can see except her, and her pain, and the vulnerability she is trusting him with. 

She has never been more honest with him. She has never been more real. 

He’s been lucky enough to see her naked, sighing and writhing and giving herself away to the pleasure of his hands, and his mouth, and his body. He’s touched her in places he knows no one else had explored before. That all required trust, absolutely. 

But standing fully clothed with his arms around her shoulders, her face buried in the crook of his neck, and her hands gripping his sleep shirt by the back, is the most intimate they have ever been. 

A noise from upstairs —halfway between a squeal and a groan— threatens to disturb their peace. But all he does is press their bodies closer together as he lets his lips lightly rest on top of her head. He murmurs, “I’m here,” and he feels her shudder against him, her lips grazing the tendon of his neck as she exhales. 

A mere ten feet away, just up a short flight of stairs, Frank’s entire life lies in stillness.  He knows his wife is curled up on herself on her side of their bed. He knows this because that is where he left here only a couple of minutes before, his own side of the bed most definitely still warm from his body. Every minute that passes, the coldness settles more and more over those sheets. 

His children were peacefully sleeping when he checked on them just minutes before, their little bodies perfectly safe inside their cocoons of blankets, their little minds hopefully perfectly safe in their cocoon of dreams.

“Frank,” Mel whispers, loosening her grip on him as she tries to disentangle from their hug.

He gently shushes her, moving one of his hands to cup the back of her head, his fingers tangling with her hair as he begins to sway their bodies side to side, the movement somewhere between a repetitive shooting motion and a silly awkward dance. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he says, and he means it like he has never meant anything else in his life. 

Her arms move slowly to circle his neck, and then, finally, he feels the moment she lets go of every fear and doubt. Her whole weight sags against his body, and his arms are the only thing holding her upright. 

Frank tightens his grip on her, unwilling to ever let her go. He knows his crushing hold might not be the most comfortable for her, but there are things one simply must entrap with force and conviction:  love, dreams, happiness, the future. 

“Frank,” she murmurs again, and this time he can feel the tears leaving her eyes as they wet the side of his neck and the front of his t-shirt.

He doesn’t say anything, just begins massaging the back of her head with his fingers as he keeps swaying their bodies left and right, left and right. 

It’s late. There’s no rush. She’s upset, she needs him, and he has been wanting her for so long he has completely forgotten what his life looked like without her in it. 

They have time. 

[smolfangirl]

PATRICK BALL as Frank Langdon

THE PITT (2025- ) ↳ 1.02 8:00 A.M.

[smolfangirl]

when i say “that reminds me” & theres zero connection you just have to take my word for it theres no time to explain

[smolfangirl]

The reading comprehension and overall common sense on this website is piss poor.

[smolfangirl]

A parallel to the "only Darcy had to get over his pride and prejudice" falsehood is the "only Darcy was a socially awkward dumbass" falsehood.

This is "Elizabeth is a socially awkward dumbass" erasure and I will not stand for it.

Darcy is not naturally awkward, he's only a socially awkward dumbass when he is in love and struggling with it, which he unfortunately is for most of the book, poor guy. Elizabeth is in love and struggling with it for only a few chapters of the book, but she is also a socially awkward dumbass during these chapters.

When Darcy comes back to Longbourn near the end of the book (ch 53-54), Elizabeth doesn't know where to look, can't stand making eye contact, but also can't stand not looking at him, is confused when he speaks to her, wants to speak to him, but is also scared to speak to him, can't think of anything to say, can only say the most dull polite small talk things to him instead of showing any of her normal sparkling personality, stands there silently staring at him like a dope, gets mad at herself for not talking to him, gets mad at him for not talking to her, gets mad at everyone else who does talk to him, can't be polite to other people, decides she's never going to think about him again, keeps thinking about him anyway, screws up her card playing because she keeps staring at him, and so on. She's ridiculous.

Elizabeth does all of the things that everyone mocks Darcy for. She is just as much an idiot as he is, it's just that her idiocy doesn't stretch for an entire year like Darcy's does.

[smolfangirl]

On a scale from one to ten, how funny would it be for Mel to tell Langdon and Santos that they both have the exact same coffee order, so they both change it without the other knowing... Except their two new drinks are the exact same again

[smolfangirl]

This is the vibe the night shift crew has on the Pitt TO ME

[smolfangirl]

with you I serve with you I fall down watch you breathe in watch you breathing out

[smolfangirl]

thinking about taylor saying that mel is the one her coworkers are ignoring the most, one of the writers saying mel might have something personal or social to learn in s2, mel jumping in front of her coworkers and cutting them off during that first hour of the shift, mel lowkey ratting out santos for the reboa, how mel stands apart from the other newbies, and that the only person she seems to connect with during the entire shift is with langdon

and it seems to me like they might be setting up mel not really getting along or connecting with her coworkers in s2 (or at least not be friends with anyone)

[smolfangirl]

The Pitt Interview: Taylor Dearden on Mel & Langdon

[smolfangirl]

The Pitt — 1.09 “3:00PM”

[smolfangirl]

langdon during the mci is so fucking funny like he just leaves two different victims all because mel talked to him from across the room. people are dying but mel, who had help both times, is priority number one i guess.

[smolfangirl]

Writing historical fiction is always like I think I hauve to read several more 700 page nonfiction books before I can write this paragraph

[smolfangirl]

We as a fandom never stopped and discussed that Sir Walter was baffled that his tennants might want to use the Kellynch gardens. And he didn't want to let them, lol. Did he thought they would just sit in the house? Did he want to red tape the shrubberies? Block the access to the lawn? What was his thought process?😀

This line does amuse me exceedingly (maybe because of Mounty Python and the Knights of Nee):

The park would be open to him of course, and few navy officers, or men of any other description, can have had such a range; but what restrictions I might impose on the use of the pleasure-grounds, is another thing. I am not fond of the idea of my shrubberies being always approachable; and I should recommend Miss Elliot to be on her guard with respect to her flower garden.

The park is for hunting and riding horses for fun, that Sir Walter knows his tenants will want (it's probably what Charles Bingley was most excited about in Pride & Prejudice, as he arrived at the start of hunting season). The pleasure grounds would be manicured gardens near the house.

Now while this line comes off as silly, I sympathize with Sir Walter. Renting out your personal home is hard. It sounds like the flower garden is special to Elizabeth as well. It sounds like Sir Walter is concerned about it being damaged in some way.

I'd be curious if anyone has an annotated copy and can add context though. Maybe it is just a snobby thing.

[smolfangirl]

Every unhinged fic writer needs an equally unhinged friend who "yes ands" their ideas and encourages them to write all their most far fetched and insane stories.

[smolfangirl]

what if Mel does fail to fit in after Frank leaves? what if she takes his disappearance to heart and becomes even more self-conscious? what if she can’t go to drinks with Santos and the gang because she has to pick up Becca and soon they stop asking? what if she pisses off Samira by being extremely rude to a patient who has questions about a vaccine? what if things just get harder and harder and Dr Robby is telling her to pick up the pace but she can’t sleep and no one at the hospital understands her and she has no real friends besides Becca and every day is more and more of a grind?

what if she never learns anything about why Frank left, just that he took time off? what if he comes back and she is just so angry because he made her feel like this place would be different and then he abandoned her and didn’t even think about her before he left, and nothing is different, it’s just the same, it’s just like every other place where she will never fit in.

and what if he did think about her while he was gone, he thought about her during withdrawals and rehab and he thought about how he failed her and how she would never see him the same way again. what if he isn’t expecting a warm welcome, he knows he doesn’t deserve that, but thought she would at least speak to him? what if he thinks she’s giving him the cold shoulder because she heard about the drugs and the stealing, but in truth she’s just furious because she missed him so much and he never even said goodbye

what then??

[smolfangirl]

the pitt + taylor swift songs mel king - "you're on your own, kid"