emma

This is going to be a month full of celebrations! Here are some prompts for the month of July to inspire our muses.

The numbers behind each prompt are the optional word count for the day. A challenge, if you want to play this on hard mode.

When posting your stories, don't forget to tag us at @kingdonmicrofic.

We are offering some alternative prompts for the month of July, which are: bang, applause, victory, medal, and snack.

If you use any of these prompts, please make sure to tell us what original prompt you are replacing.

AO3 COLLECTION | RULES + INFO

If you have any questions, feel free to send us an ask.

(Text version of the prompt list under the cut.)

to wish, to hope, to expect

kingdon notting hill au, 54k, 1/3

“I love used books,” she proffers, eager to be a normal person. “I love when books have a story.”  “Well, I’d say if a book doesn’t have a story, it’s a pretty sad excuse for a book.”  Mel can’t help herself—she snorts. “I didn’t realize you owned the shop,” Mel says quickly, embarrassed. “That must be nice—” “Yeah, it is,” Frank answers distractedly. “I’m sorry, I’m pretty sure I just saw two time Emmy award winning actress Mel King snort at a joke I made.”  So he really did know her, then, wow.  “Well I’m not sure anyone will believe you,” she jokes lightly.  “Yeah,” Frank breathes, his eyes roving over her face in a stunned sort of awe. “I don’t think anyone will.”  Or, the Kingdon Notting Hill AU :)

Read on ao3

It’s late - almost midnight - and if he were a smarter man he’d probably blame the question he’s about to ask on his exhaustion, but he got 8 hours of sleep last night and spent the entire day watching TV before taking the Kings to the movies, so he isn’t even tired. For the first time in months, he’s actually not tired at all. Mel, on the other hand, looks tired, very tired, but she waved away his selfless offer to run into the grocery store for her and instead left him alone in the car with Becca, who is sitting in the backseat and watching videos about the Pokemon Centre in Tokyo while slurping noisily at what’s left of her Fruitopia. And he really shouldn't interrupt the sanctity of her phone time - he knows that. According to Dr. J's latest TikTok, phone time is one of the most sacred, treasured parts of a young "girlypop's" day.

But…

Fuck it. He glances at her in the rearview mirror and sits up straighter in his seat. “Hey, Becca,” he begins, “can I ask you something?”

“Sure, Frank." He can hear the distinctive sound of her phone screen locking. "What’s up?”

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

“Of course I remember.” Still in the rearview mirror, he sees her frowning. “My stomach hurt really bad.”

“Right, yeah.” Maybe not the happiest memory to remind her of, but he already knows how he’s going to distract her, so he pushes forward. “Uh, do you remember when you said that your - that Mel said a lot of nice things about me?”

“Duh,” she replies. “She still says nice things about you. All the time.”

Jackpot. He chews on the inside cheek to stop himself from grinning like an idiot. “Yeah? … Like what?”

puppy langdon was so cute i HAD to

For anyone unaware, the @fandomtrumpshate annual charity auction supports non-profit organizations for marginalized groups & progressive causes. If you’d like more information/have questions, please go here!

FTH 2026 Calendar

Tuesday, March 3rd, 8am ET: auction bidding opens; craft bazaar signups close

Saturday, March 7th, 8pm ET: auction bidding closes

Wednesday, Mar 18th: auction donations due; craft stalls close

Thursday, Dec 31st: fanworks due

This year, we have several amazing Kingdon creators participating, and if you have the extra funds to spare, please consider bidding and donating! If you’d like to see all of the offerings for The Pitt fandom, which includes a variety of pairings, click here (some Kingdon authors will also create for other pairings, too). For Kingdon-specific offerings, look below. Happy browsing & bidding!

“I like you, can uh, let’s hang out more!”

Mel immediately cringed at her own blurted proposal; she was going for casual, something she could deny romantic intent if it wasn’t reciprocated but as the hint of a lie—really just a watered down truth—weighed on her tongue, her delivery suffered for it.

It would be easier to swallow, perhaps even easier to have said in the first place, if she could blame ‘liquid courage’. She’d seen how easy it was for others; patient’s inappropriate comments smoothed over by the whisky on their breath, her Mom would shake her head in disapproval but ultimately smiled when their Dad cursed in front of them because of a few beers on a Friday night. After he passed (liver disease, ironically, but not really, since they suspected the cause to be long term exposure to vinyl chloride and not alcohol like his employer claimed) her mom would cup Mel’s cheeks in her hands, empty wine bottle already tossed in the recycling, and cry as she begged for forgiveness for not giving Mel the attention she deserved—it was easier to pretend like it never happened come the next morning.

The problem of course was that she was currently at a fundraiser for Pennsylvania’s Physicians Health Program. An understandably dry event.

Maybe she shouldn’t have come, she hated these kinds of things; in fact, she was hesitant to agree when he first asked for ‘moral support’, but found herself powerless when he flashed her a barely perceptible dimple.

So here she was, in a thrifted emerald slip dress, her hair half up and wavy from the braid she had worn to her shift just a few hours ago, praying that she didn’t just ruin the most significant relationship in her life that wasn’t her sister.

“Are you asking me out?” His expression was soft, but he always looked like that when they were alone. His blue eyes searched hers while she searched for a way out of this conversation she started. The once spacious terrasse felt like it was shrinking in on her.

Maybe she wasn’t ready for this step yet. Maybe he wasn’t on the same page. Friends has been good. Friends was all she thought this was ever going to be. She had barely even had time with these feelings, only recognizing her own crush less than a week ago, and the whole time she’s felt like she was holding a bomb ready to go off. It didn’t have to be anything just because her heart screamed at her.

“What if I meant just as friends?” Those words didn’t come out right either. They were slower this time but she couldn’t stop her voice from shaking. She couldn’t look at him, he was too handsome under the soft yellow light, so she kept her gaze trained on their shoes—belatedly realizing just how close they were standing, and yet he didn’t seem any closer than usual.

Frank scuffed his shoe against the ground, kicking an invisible rock out of his way, “I can’t lie I’d be a little disappointed, kinda got my hopes up there for a second,” he brushed a finger beneath her chin and ducked down, forcing her to meet his eyes. He looked nervous himself, scratching the sensitive skin on his neck, and pursing and un-pursing his lips before he continued. “But, Melissa King, I’d spend the rest of my life hanging out with you as just friends if you let me.”

“Oh!” Mel bit down on her lip to soften the beaming grin, but it felt fruitless to fight against the excitement vibrating through her veins at the implication of his hopes—not to mention she practically melted whenever he called her Melissa instead of Mel. “That’s perfect, but I did, uh, mean to ask you out. Romantically.”

“Yeah?” Frank rocked back and forth on his heels, the smile gracing his face was so wide it had to hurt his cheeks. He reminded her of a kid on Christmas morning with the way that his joy was unguarded; like he could finally let go of all the baggage weighing him down when she looked up at him.

“Yes. It is a date.” Mel bravely stepped forward, eliminating what little space there was still between them, and luxuriated in the warmth radiating off his solid body. “If you want it to be!” She added quickly.

He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair that had been dislodged by the late April breeze, and let his hand rest just behind her ear. “Y’know, we could call this a date if you wanted.”

“You want this to be our first date?”

He shrugged his shoulders, and dipped his head down until his nose just barely brushed her own. “Ideally no,” Mel’s pulse quickened as he pressed his palm into the small of her back, “but there’s some things I won’t do before a first date that I really want to do with you right now.”

“Like what?”