Kingdon Week 2026 master fic list! (all 3 of them lmao)
header made by @nameless-ken
day 1: different first meeting | weights before dates - gym meetcute, 8.6k words (sequel coming soon)
day 4: hurt and comfort | hold on, i still need you - car accident, 7.5k words
day 5: nature | wherever you walk - mel and frank at the park, 2.1k words
this was my first time participating in kingdon week and I had a blast!! I'm blown away by the sheer talent in this fandom. y'all have truly incredible brains. already can't wait for next year!
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Thinking about Mel and Langdon sitting side to side charting when Frank notices Mel's shoelaces coming undone and casually putting her foot on his lap to tie them back, then giving a tiny loving tap on her heel afterwards so she knows to bring her leg back down. No eye contact. No communication. Seamless interaction like they've done this hundreds of times before.
Bonus points of course being everyone's reaction witnessing it and if people in the ED still think Frank's married (if he is and they are just insane or if he is faking so people don't gossip is up to you)
ever since i was a little girl i knew i wanted to deny location sharing and turn off personalized ads and reject all non-essential cookies and not set up siri and face ID
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oh mel has a new stress in s3? oh is it her debilitating crush on her best friend, Frank Langdon? Cause deadass I don’t want any more melmisery unless this is it
@kingdonmicrofic day 16: glitter 350/227. cw: internalized homophobia
Frank’s heart felt like it was attempting to pound out of his chest as he faced Mel with her three small pots of colored glitter.
His girlfriend looked at him patiently, her own tri-colored shimmer on her face in pink, purple and blue on each cheek, carefully painted on her by Becca before she’d left the house.
She looked beautiful.
He, on the other hand, still couldn’t compute what was happening to him. How his body reacted to Mel’s offer, how he’d said yes before he could even think about it and all he wanted to do was say no and run home, away from colorful crowds and songs that he wasn’t ready to sing along to yet.
Shame was strange, but he wasn’t sure he felt ashamed. He could feel shame for betraying people’s trust, for stealing medication from patients when he was at his worst. But he wasn’t ashamed about being attracted to other men, but something was triggered within him at the idea of other people just… knowing.
Knowing and being able to judge him for it, describe his whole character and reduce him to something. See him as other when he’s done everything everyone else had done to fit in, the wife, white picket fence and two-and-a-half kids. Frank was a part of it all, he’d almost lost it before, and he’d clawed his way back into being seen as a person for that to happen again.
“Baby, it’s okay.” Mel’s voice brings him back into the moment, to the crowd of people walking and chanting around them. The flag they share, the colors adorning her face as she looks back at him with a love he struggles to convince himself he deserves. “Just walk with me.” Mel says, holding out her hand and putting the glitter away
Frank takes her smaller hand in his own shaking one, ashamed he couldn’t do it, relieved that he didn’t. He reaches forward and kisses her in thanks, knowing that maybe a few specks will brush off on him, and that’s all he can ask of himself this year.
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What if we get Frank and Mel sitting on the floor together again in S3 after some horrid stuff happens and one of them quietly reaches out, and the other immediately takes their hand and squeezes it?
i think there should be more fics of frank going out to guys night with mateo, donnie and jesse, maybe shen (definitely not robby) while mel waits for him at home. the man is having a terrible terrible time and the only thing getting through it is because mel begged him to
Mel read him stats on male loneliness and how important social bonds are, especially later in life, she loves spending all the time she can with him, but does he remember what happened when he went to rehab and realised all his ‘friends’ were just his wife’s friends? She doesn’t want him to ever end up in that situation again. So here he is, bonding, missing Mel, being great company, and counting down the hours til he can go home to her.
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Mel corners him at precisely 6:42 AM. Red Bull in hand, sweating and uncracked, crinkling beneath his tight grip from the way she pushes and pushes, until his shoulder blades thud against the wall and her minty breath fans up into his face in determined little puffs.
“What did that mean?” her voice, low and husky, carries an undercurrent of something sharper that Frank hasn’t had the pleasure of hearing.
He blinks at her. “What did what mean?”
Her brows pull together, lips tightening up. “Your text, last night,” she says, and moves closer, if that’s even possible. Until her chest brushes against his own and he becomes very aware of her breasts, held taut by a sports bra, thick straps barely visible on her shoulders beneath her plain t-shirt. “I sent you that picture of me at the bar, the one Samira took, and you said that you, quote, were “dying for a taste” and “ready to feast” .”
“Uh..” his jaw goes slack, utterly dumbfounded, now forced to face the consequences of his actions.
It was late, I was tired, I meant— no, he knew exactly what he was saying, that he’d been having heart palpitations over his coworker/best friend/trainee who was out drinking, looking all flushed like a spring cherry blossom and wearing a top that showed so much of what he never got to see at work. Or like, ever.
“I, um,” he swallows thickly, vision tunneled, not at all worried about anyone who may stumble upon them, solely focusing on Mel’s wiry lashes and frustrated, red tinted cheeks. “You looked.. really good. I was.. complimenting you.”
She isn’t convinced. “But that’s not what you said.”
“Right,” he’s a total fucking sleaze and here she is calling him out on it.
How truthful is he allowed to be right now? Can he say that he dreamt of her last night, with his back turned to his wife, and woke up with an insatiable urge so intense that it made him dizzy? Is he allowed to admit that he wished she’d called him for a ride home, and maybe let her hands wander during the drive? Invited him into her apartment, ignoring the evidence of a promise on his finger that he made to someone else? Can he?
The look on his face must say it all because Mel’s head tilts, and the left side of her mouth slowly turns up, satisfied.
“I see,” she says. “Did you mean it?”
“Yes,” he rasps with a weak, pitiful nod. “Yes, absolutely, yes. Of course—”
Her eyes brighten, twinkling beneath the fluorescents. “Oh, that’s so good to hear,” she says, earnest and soft. “So, you’ll come over tonight, right?”
It takes all of Frank’s strength not to sink to the floor, to nuzzle against her navel and fucking sob.
Her parting words solidify the bulge in his scrubs, dooming him to twelve hours of pure agony: “I think that outfit is much cuter in person anyway.”
