7 Bookmarks by tackycardia
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Actually, Mel's excited about a lot of things going into the new school year. She’s excited to co-teach with Dr. Mohan and Mr. Langdon. She’s excited to continue supporting the kids on her caseload from the previous year, and she knows writing their IEPs will go so much better now that she knows them and their families a little. She’s excited that her Physics class will be entirely made up of students she taught in Chemistry the previous year; they were a great group.
There are things to worry about, too. Co-teaching with two new people again. The daily possibility that she’s going to do something overwhelmingly embarrassing in front of Langdon. Still not knowing where she should go during her prep periods. That she’s going to be just as alone as she’s always been at work, but with some added disappointment because she’s let her hopes get up, just a little.
There’s no way that she and Langdon can co-teach as well as she hopes. She’s sure her bubble will burst soon enough, that her crush will fade, and everything will settle back to baseline.
(It doesn't.)
Series
- Part 1 of and they were CO-TEACHERS
Bookmarked by tackycardia
05 Jul 2026
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"Mel likes to think that she’s got her head on straight.
She’s been planning commutes and balancing budgets and organizing home aides since she was twenty. If Mel wants something, she makes it happen. Or convinces herself that she doesn’t need it. But there’s one thing, one golden exception to her system, that Mel can’t help dreaming about.
She wants a washing machine."
OR
Mel spends her Wednesdays trapped in a laundromat because her building doesn't have a machine. Frank decides laundry is more of a team sport
Bookmarked by tackycardia
21 Jun 2026
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Mel King was a creature of habit.
There was a specific sort of choreography to her life beyond the chaos of the Emergency Department. A carefully controlled routine, a color-coded calendar, a rigid set of rituals that kept her grounded enough to keep showing up day after day, to keep on doing the work that was required of her to save lives.
Everything was going fine for Mel. Her personal life was predictable, unexciting, and perfectly fulfilling, thank you very much.
Enter Frank Langdon, agent of chaos.
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Bookmarked by tackycardia
14 Jun 2026
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“You should get back home to your wife,” she says carefully, slowly, like it’s a reprimand she doesn’t trust him to register as one unless she draws attention to it.
He pretends he didn’t hear her.
It’s only later, at the bus stop, that a firm sense of certainty washes over Frank for the first time in a very long time. He’d gotten it all wrong. Mel clearly has someone else to preoccupy herself with. It was embarrassing, really, to assume she would want a fuck up like him. At that moment, like the punctuation to some cosmic joke, the wedding ring he’s been fingering absentmindedly slips off his finger and skitters around in a circle between his feet. He crouches down to pick it back up as the last bus home flies past. He half wishes it had hit him; it probably would have hurt less than the realisation that he has feelings for Mel King, and she doesn’t feel the same way.
OR
Frank wants Mel so badly he's willing to fuck up his whole life to have whatever crumbs of her he can scrape together. The question is: how many people is he going to hurt on his way to her, and will he stop before she becomes one of them?
Bookmarked by tackycardia
01 Jun 2026
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For a moment that seemed to draw on for an hour, nobody said anything, the awkward shock of whatever the hell had just occurred settling between them all. Garcia turned toward Frank slowly.
“What the fuck is up with ER Barbie today?” she asked. “Did Poison Ivy over there key her car or something?”
Santos had to cover her mouth to stifle the laugh that burst out. She would think this was hilarious. He bit his tongue so he didn’t say anything he’d regret - they were just beginning to tolerate each other.
Frank stared out the closed doors. “I have no idea.”
or: the one where an overconfident intern openly flirts with Frank, and unleashes a side of Mel nobody has seen before.
Bookmarked by tackycardia
13 May 2026
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She watches him strut around headquarters, trying to look confident and purposeful as he searches for a reason to be there—orbiting Mel, while being quietly consumed by something she isn't sure he has the cojones to face.
Trinity sighs, weighing her vendetta against Mel's happiness. She really is getting a martyr complex, just like the rest of these sick fucks.
(Kingdon, reluctantly witnessed and orchestrated by Trinity Santos, who kinda has her own thing going on and doesn't need this right now)
Bookmarked by tackycardia
05 May 2026
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Some nights were, naturally, worse than others.
Nights where Frank laid in bed for so long, staring at the ceiling, that it made his heart start to race with anxiety and his back ache and ache and ache no matter how he positioned himself. Nights where his thoughts spiraled out into worst-case-scenarios that seemed so vivid and inevitable that he would have to get up and go to the bathroom, just to turn the light on and look at himself in the mirror to remember what was actually real.
Those were the nights when he wanted the pills again the most: alone in his guest bedroom, trying to wring sleep out of his body like the last few drops of water out of a dirty dishcloth.
He tried not to call Mel on nights like that. He did not always succeed.
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Bookmarked by tackycardia
28 Apr 2026