[h0mespun]

I'm asking the same question to everyone: 19 for the fic writer ask!

Love this question! Thanks for asking!

For my fics I've gotta say Love Game (pro tennis tour... a different city every week.. the training montages... Wimbledon Ball!) and for general Kingdon, the first thing that popped into my head was @starkovzova's halloween series for nfsw kingdon week last year. I'm imagining like a anthology like Black Mirror / American Horror Story

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Tonight after tennis clinic the alo yoga women with blowouts and Cartier bracelets (fake I hope to god) asked for my number so I can play doubles with them… ma’am I am dressed like Adam sandler…. Should I go

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8? 16?

Hi dad!! ily

8. Which WIP are you most excited for? Definitely King Hunt; i got to write like 4k this weekend for that project and i think it's shaping up to be very cute, original, and the grovelcore that I want to see more of in the world. :)

16. Do you make playlists for your fics? I used to make playlists, but then I would get really tired of them and burn out of the songs. lately I've just had two or three albums which "choose" the project and vice versa, and I listen to those on repeat.

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20 &. 4 for fic asks :)

omg hi cece!!!

20. Do you listen to music when you write? Yes. usually a couple of albums will present themselves as chosen for each multichapter piece i work on :) love this about the writing process. it feels like magic.

4. How long do you spend editing? Editing is my fave, I love it and could do it forever. In a perfect world I finish a rough draft, receive beta comments, and then just piddle around with sentence structure for a couple weeks until everything sings. in reality i usually am on some horrid self-induced deadline and post unbetaed first drafts :'( note to self: don't do this for kingdon week.

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I’d love to know 7, 11, and 13 🤗

hiiiiiiiiii :^)

7. What's a fic you didn't expect to be popular but really took off? i started my ao3 journey in the dramione sphere in 2023 (I disavow, etc.) which at that time was a very fertile creative ground with tons of diverse readership; readers were really itching for stories and my stats there were immediately very impressive (*to me; of course there's always a bigger fish!). Honestly that was such a gift because it taught me that popularity in fandom is more about being in the right place at the right time than merit, so now I don't stress about numbers or how pieces perform. I never expect any of my stories to be, like, read at all honestly. But to answer the question, the kingdon answer to this is definitely needs met which i almost posted anon because i really wrote that with my whole pussy. Haha.

11. Which fic did you do the most research for? Definitely Love Game, my pro tennis au. Researching for that story led me to my new favorite sports autobiography, Open by Andre Agassi.

13. Is there a writing habit you wish you had? I am thinking about getting a walking pad and standing desk so I can walk and write!

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2 & 18 for the ask game!

Hiiiiii Ty for asking 🫶

2. When and where do your best ideas seem to strike? Definitely my morning commute, which is 30-40 minutes in the car! I actually dictate on the Google Docs app on my phone to capture these brainworms, which I highly recommend if you can get over the cringe of hearing yourself write.

18. What’s a trope you want to write but haven’t written yet? Arranged marriage 🤤 beta reading @khrogerswrites’ sci fi au with arranged marriage has me feelin a certain kinda way. I simply love it!

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ask me questions!! fun stuff; I love yapping about 🤌the craft🤌

Thank you @witchbitchadam for the tag :) And I’m tagging whoever wants to do this! You yes you, yes, you are now tagged :^)

[nervousgazes]

ok yeah whatever virgin!mel in the sense that they hook up for the first time & then they fall asleep for the night but mel keeps waking up during the night to be like “frank can we do that again?🤓😊”

[plain-flavoured-english]

As a Greek, in response to the current controversy about Matt Damon being cast as Odysseus, I'd just like to share that one of the moments that changed my brain chemistry as a kid was reading a novelized version of the Odyssey and coming across the following description of Odysseus when Circe sees him for the first time and thinks he's hot: "his hair curled like a clematis and his eyes were very brown".

So may I present my own casting choice for Odysseus:

[plain-flavoured-english]

Excuse me???

[ruffboi-mags]

you are right and you should say it.

[instantduckninja]

Is this the face of a man who would put his own infant in front of a plow to avoid going to war?

Absolutely not

You know who would try that shit?

Is this the face of a man who would defy the very gods to get home to his wife?

You know who would defy the gods just to show he could get away with it?

[fluffmugger]

The last thing Penelope's suitors ever see:

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help please!!

langdon is offended that he's still in mel's phone as "Dr. Langdon" after being best friends for two years. What does he change his contact info to? I'm looking for like a silly combo of emojis.

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dog!frank snippet?? (i hope mel calls him a good boy (before or after he becomes a human again, you know he'd go crazy either way))

bro you know there will be ample good boys but really it's going to be painfully earnest and rated t for teen and just a mashup of The Metamorphosis and Dogsbody by the incomparable DWJ. this is the type of thing that will inevitably flop on ao3 but that's okay bc i'm excited about it.

snippet below!!!!

“Norman, come here, please.”

Frank rises from his sunspot, tail wagging, and walks over to his Mel. 

A leather collar lies in her hands. She holds it out for his perusal, so he sniffs it from every angle with interest. It’s a handsome piece, the perfect size for a large dog like him, with a shiny silver coin attached. Frank can still read, if he really applies himself, so he squints at the lettering. 

“NORMAN. PROPERTY OF MEL KING. IF FOUND, PLEASE CALL (412)-744-9862.”

He whines in excitement. 

“I got this custom made on Etsy for you, after the animal control incident. Maybe I should have done it sooner, but to be honest I felt a bit strange about it, Norman, because, well. You know. Or maybe you don’t know. Maybe you are just a dog. Anyway, you would tell me if you didn’t want to wear it, right? I’m not going to force you to wear it. But I just thought… in the daytime… when you’re visiting Tanner’s school and I’m at work…” Uncertainty sours her scent, so Frank butts his head against her knee in reassurance. Why does she feel uncertain? Mel is his human, and he is her dog. Anyone who could smell would know that; it was obvious. Humans made everything so needlessly complicated. “And I’ll take it off every night when we’re alone, I promise.”

Frank drops his head in Mel’s lap, tail wagging, and when she clicks the collar on, he gives her kneecap a single kiss. Then he gets up and rolls his big body around on the carpet, getting accustomed to the new sensation of a collar around his neck. It was neither too tight nor too loose; it fit just right.

He could yip for joy. Finally! Anyone who could read would know that he was “PROPERTY OF MEL”!

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ok here i sit at a coffee shop with unlimited drip coffee refills. I am writing the CRAZIEST 3k sex scene for king hunt and melfrank don’t even kiss or go under the clothes 🥵 I love my lifeeeeeeee

[rosenfinchzz]

After a Karaoke night 🎶🙂‍↔️

[andthepeople]

grace and rocky on the journey to erid having a (marital) spat and grace gets a roll of painters tape and tapes over the floor like newt and hermann in pacific rim and says that's your side of the mary this is my side of the mary. and rocky (trying to start shit) is like well grace didn't tape over the ceiling so if you look at it from rocky perspective i can just go on wall and up and here and whole ship is rocky side of ship. so grace is like oh you think you're so smart huh?? watch this. and tapes a circle around rocky but then rocky JUMPS the ball like flipping a skateboard (radical!!) and grace is like OH SO THAT'S HOW IT IS!!!!! and builds an elaborate tape polyhedron to contain him but rocky "accidentally" knocks it over (rocky didn't touch, statement. grace bad at make model. model fall over. very flimsy. embarrassing). so grace just tapes all over the xenonite ball until rocky is a ball of tape. and rocky (muffled behind tape) is like grace know rocky can still see, right?? tape does nothing. so then grace gets the heavy duty duct tape and tapes his whole ball to the floor (forgetting rocky is 400 pounds) and then rocky rips himself up immediately and goes careening around the ship but he took a whole floor panel with him and now he's picking up socks and pencils and dust and saying disgust. disgust. disgust. and basically grace created an enormous lint roller slash torture chamber. no one wins

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I would love seeing another snippet of the "Mel dates around. Frank's in The Bad Place about it" fic 👉🏽👈🏽 Pretty please? 🥺

for you mandy, up to half my kingdom <3. here's a scene from chapter 2/3 of king hunt and is still pretty rough in parts; no judgment please

Langdon is lying on his couch, thinking about heating up a Trader Joe’s frozen meal, when his phone starts vibrating on the coffee table. It’s Abby.

He picks it up on the first ring. She has the kids tonight. “Everything okay?”

Penny is screaming in the background. 

“Clearly, everything is great,” Abby snipes, and then her voice goes quieter. “Pen, baby, deep breaths. Deep breaths, okay? Watch Mommy.” She sighs and gets back on the line. “Give me five minutes.”

“Put me on FaceTime,” Langdon demands, so he spends the next twenty minutes background harmonizing Ms. Rachel songs with Abby until Pen is lured to sleep.

Abby keeps him on the line as she tiptoes out of the Pen’s bedroom. He barely hears the door snick softly shut before she’s castigating him. “You want to tell me why both my children were distraught after you dropped them off today?”

“What happened?” Langdon asks, genuinely bewildered. They’d been fine all day with him. It had been a positively pleasant day of single parenting, all things considered.

“Tanner said that you told them that Mel was going to get a new boyfriend and family and new kids to replace them.”

He flops back on the couch, rubbing his hand over his eyes. “Shit. Okay, yeah, I did tell them that.”

Abby heaves a long sigh across the line, and somehow that single sigh contains seven years of pent-up frustration from a failed marriage.

“What?” Frank asks, annoyed. 

Silence on the other line. He can tell that she’s chewing on her words.

“Just come out and say it, Abs. I can hear it from here.”

“It’s probably not my place,” says Abby, hedging. “As… you know. As the ex-wife.”

“That’s never stopped you before,” says Frank.

“Hm,” Abby intones. “Okay, then. Why the fuck is Mel dating other people? I would have been less surprised to hear that you guys had eloped. Or you knocked her up. All of that, I was anticipating. But dating other people? What happened?”

Frank wipes at wet eyes, absurdly relieved that Abby is willing to talk about this with him. That someone finds it as inherently, fundamentally wrong as he does: Mel going on dates. But then he can’t find the words to explain. “Nothing. Nothing happened. That’s the whole problem, Abby. I was… I was waiting for a year sober. Then I was trying to get the dad thing figured out with split custody. Then I just… I don’t know. I waited too long, basically. Now she’s moved on.”

“Mel,” says Abby, doubt dripping from her tone. “Mel King, the girl who looked at you like you hung the moon when we were still married. She’s moved on.”

Frank squeezes his eyes shut. “Yeah.”

Abby is speechless. “Frank, I… Wait, you’re saying you never even dated Mel after the divorce?”

“Nope.”

“Have you slept with her?”

Wow. Okay, he was really going there with his ex-wife. “Nope.”

“Frank, she was a big reason I asked you for a divorce.”

“I know you thought I was cheating the whole time. But it wasn’t like that, Abby. I was… I mean, I liked her, I won’t lie, but we were just friends.” A teensy lie.

“You truly never had a sexual relationship with her?” Abby queries, her voice softer now, and uncertain.

Frank’s lips flatten into a line. Shit. He was going to have to tell the truth, now. “I jacked off to her voice once when we were still married. But that’s it.”

“Ew, Langdon,” says Abby immediately. Then she makes several wretching sounds for good measure. 

Frank winces. Fuck it. Why not tell all? “In the guest bedroom of your house.” Funny how quickly it goes from ‘our house’ to ‘your house.’ “You’d already served me. Maybe November or December.”

“You’re giving me great validation for the divorce,” says Abby. 

“Yeah, well. Don’t be too mean,” Frank says, feeling hollow. “I don’t know how much more I can take, after the last couple of days.”

“You love her, though,” Abby states.

“Obviously,” Frank says, offended at the question. “Sorry if it’s weird to talk about, but she’s it for me.” He’d known that for a long time. In that, he had no doubt.

“And you didn’t… You didn’t talk to her at all? You didn’t ask her to wait for you while you got your shit together?”

“I’m an idiot, Abby,” says Frank. “What do you want me to say? You clearly had the right idea in divorcing me? I’m sorry your children share fifty percent of their DNA with me?”

“Oh, Frank,” says Abby, and somehow the pity in her voice is a million times worse than the vitriol.  

Frank sighs, and the silence stretches long.

“Okay. Okay,” Abby says, putting on her project manager voice, which makes Frank perk up. The best parts of their marriage had been when he was her project to manage. “We’re going to salvage this. If she’s going on dates and telling you about them, it’s probably just a ‘wake the fuck up, Frank’ signal. That girl was in love with you, Frank. I’m not saying it’s a stunt, but she’s giving you an arena to react and respond.”

“She won’t cancel,” Frank says miserably. “I’ve asked her. Three separate guys have asked her out, Abby. She said yes to all of them.”

“Well, obviously she’s not going to cancel,” says Abby. “You’ll need to be more creative than that. You need to circumvent. Approach the problem from a new direction.”

Hope sparks through Langdon. “Creative?”

Abby’s voice across the phone is slow and musing. “Langdon… Did I ever tell you your nickname in college? Among the tri delt girls?”

“Oh, God,” Frank says, wary. Most of his freshman and sophomore year memories were beer-soaked and debauched. He’d kind of been a slut in college. He’d buckled down to his studies once he met Abby in his third year, but he can’t imagine he had been looked on favorably by Abby’s sorority sisters. “I’m nervous.”

Abby laughs. “We called you Lapdog Langdon, because everyone knew you loved eating cunt. When I got back from studying abroad, it was all anyone could talk about. It’s why I approached you. I was just looking for a good lay, but then it was so good that I couldn’t leave. For nine years, blegh. Back then, it was rare for a guy to go down on you, you know? Unfortunately, it’s still rare, as I’m learning on my divorcee journey.”

“It’s so weird that we’re talking about this,” Frank reflects.

“Shut up. What I’m saying is, you had some charisma back then. You need to harness that again. You need to channel your inner Lapdog again.”

“You want me to…” Frank tries to puzzle out Abby’s meaning. “You want me to go down on Mel?”

“Oh my god, why are you so stupid,” Abby castigates him. “I want you to seduce her. You fucked up the emotional part, and that’s not easily fixed. So now you need to worm your way into her bed and then fucking hold.  Blow her mind. Make it so good that she can’t leave.”

“Huh,” says Frank. The idea makes a weird sort of sense. And it’s better than anything else he’s come up with. “She cancelled movie night on Friday to go dancing with this guy. But maybe I can reschedule and…”

“Yes! Put the moves on her. That should get you another nine years, until she wakes up like I did,” says Abby, which they both know is a little too mean. She winces. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Listen, I like Mel—weirdly, considering that I consider her the death toll to our marriage. The kids are too attached to her already. I have a vested interest in this working out.  You’ve been a little bit of a wet blanket since the whole drug addiction thing. Which—fair. But that charismatic guy from college is still in there, okay? So I’m advising you to capitalize on your skillset, lapdog.”

Frank nods. “Thanks, Abby. This was super weird, but I really appreciate it.”

After they exchange brusque goodbyes, Frank rises and paces the living room. He crafts a text to Mel, hits send.

Since you rain checked Friday movie night, let’s do something tomorrow. I’ll bring groceries to your apartment and cook. You pick the movie. Does 7pm sound good?

Mel’s response pings just a few minutes later. That sounds fine, but you know Becca isn’t here on Thursdays.

I know, Langdon responds. That’s okay. You and I need some quality time.

—

[h0mespun]

for @purplebutterflyglasses and @shoujo-wizard, a snippet of king hunt

Summary:  Why were all these men from the Pitt suddenly chasing after Mel, Langdon wondered. They’d never even seen her shake her hair out of her braid after shift.  Word spreads across the Pitt that Dr. Mel King is looking for a boyfriend. Langdon throws his hat in the ring.

“Did you hear?” McKay leans against the counter to ask Langdon under her breath. They’re waiting at Central Command on an average Monday, a couple minutes before grand rounds. “Ahmed asked our Dr. King out on a date.”

A delighted smile cracks across Langdon’s face. How hilarious. The bookie of the Pitt, Ahmed Zidan, dating Langdon’s goofy, sweet, awkward best friend. “I wish I could have seen that. Her turning him down, I mean.” Langdon could just picture the wine stain blush on Mel’s cheeks. Glorious.

“No, that’s the thing,” says McKay, gleeful. “She said yes. They’re going out next Saturday.”

The smile slides off Langdon’s face. Mel, going on a date? With the security guard?

“I’m just glad people are finally recognizing what a catch she is,” McKay remarks, which falls on deaf ears. Langdon feels like the floor opens up to swallow him.

Mel said… Mel said yes? His Mel? 

What?

—

It gets worse.

Tuesday night: Langdon is dawdling at Central Hub, half an hour into shift change. He’s finished with charting and hand-off, but he’s got nothing waiting for him at his empty apartment. Usually he can convince Mel to grab dinner with him at the diner across the street on nights like this, so he’s keeping one eye on Mel across the ED as she wraps up her charts in her fastidious, careful way. He’ll intercept her at the lockers once she finishes and hopefully sweet-talk her into milkshakes and fries at Rosie’s Diner.

“So…”

Langdon tears his eyes away from Mel’s back to see that Shen has posted up next to him, sipping his coffee from a bright orange straw. Shen points his chin in Mel’s direction. “Word is Dr. King is on the market.”

Langdon scoffs. He hasn’t gotten a chance to interrogate—no— ask Mel about her moment of psychosis in accepting Ahmed’s offer, but he’s positive she was simply surprised by the question. Sometimes Mel can be a little naive to people’s intentions. Mel might not even have realized it was a date. Langdon will explain it all to her tonight over dinner.

“A lot of high-achieving people are like this, you know,” Shen continues, accosting Langdon’s ears with bullshit. “They never date during school. Then, as training winds down, they turn their attention to the next thing: dating, marriage, kids. Go down the checklist. My mother would approve.”

Langdon think that’s kind of weird, but he’s not trying to malign Shen’s relationship with his mother on a Tuesday. He settles for a neutral: “I don’t think Mel’s trying to do that.”

“No, not on purpose. She’s doing it de novo, which is even better,” Shen muses, taking another big gulp of iced coffee. “I just didn’t know she swung that way. I didn’t know she swung at all, actually,” Shen says. “But now I know that she does: I’m gonna throw my hat in the ring.”

Langdon wants to throw up. No, he wants to punch Shen on the mouth. No, be normal, Langdon coaches himself. “You’re an attending,” he says in revulsion. Mel is Shen’s resident.

Shen shrugs good-naturedly. “Barely.”

Well, Langdon can’t argue with that.

“I wanted to have kids by thirty, you know,” Shen continues. “Now look at me: thirty-two and single. It’s hard to meet normal people when you’re on the night shift.” He thrusts his cup at Langdon. “Wish me luck.”

So Langdon watches as Shen swans over to Mel. He relishes the flinch in her shoulders as Shen sets one hand on the back of her chair and the other on the desk. When Mel turns her face away from the computer, Langdon can read the confused furrow of her brow at the intrusion into her personal space. Shen is such a hack.

But then Mel’s posture changes. Whatever Shen says to her has her softening her shoulders. A faint sunburn flush colors the curve of her cheek. Then she’s nodding, shyly at first, then with real enthusiasm. 

Shen’s words float across the ED and hit central hub. 

“It’s a date, then!”

Langdon tosses Shen’s coffee in the trash as he stalks out of the Pitt.

—

Mel is dodging him, Langdon surmises. She’s reluctant to talk with him about these dates she’s accepting, probably because she knows he disapproves. So he’s going to have to be a little more blunt. She can’t avoid him at work.

Langdon slides the toe of his shoe into the bottom of Mel’s rolly chair and reels himself into her. He makes sure that their thighs bump, then stay locked together. She doesn’t move away, he notices triumphantly. When she looks at him with curiosity, he points his chin over the central command, where Shen is currently regaling the nurses with his newest contraption from Dunkin Donuts: the Bucket, a 48oz serving of iced coffee 

“Can you really see that guy raising your children?” asks Frank. “Look at him, Mel— he’s a joke.”

“He’s funny,” Mel corrects. “He’d be great at staying up late with a baby, clearly.”

Frank groans. “And Ahmed’s even worse.”

Mel stills. “What’s wrong with Ahmed?” Her upper lip quivers in uncertainty—extremely cute—which Langdon privately thinks of as her bunny face. “You think… you think he wasn’t serious about asking me on a date?”

“No, Mel,” Frank says patiently. “I’m sure he was very serious. He’s just, I don’t know. He’s a security guard, you know?” 

Mel’s head cocks in confusion. “What’s wrong with security guards?”

Frank sighs. “I’m just saying. Not much financial stability to speak of. With a security guard, I mean.” Even as he says it, he surprises himself with the meanness in his tone. It’s an asshole thing to say, but she’s a female physician in the U.S. She needs to get used to the idea of partners hitching their wagon to hers on account of earning potential.

“Oh. Well, that doesn’t bother me. It’s honorable work, and he’s good at it.” Her tone is quiet but resolute, shutting him down.

Of course Mel wouldn’t care about the practical elements. It took Frank a divorce to learn that hard lesson. Frank decides to push from another flex point.

“Besides, you know his family is crazy. They’re huge. He’s one of six kids, and he has ten nieces and nephews.”

“I mean… that sounds amazing to me,” Mel admits.

Frank hangs his forehead on Mel’s shoulder in despair. Fuck. He should have known that the family thing, which Frank personally sees as a liability, would be like catnip to Mel.

  “I said yes to Shen’s offer. We’re going out on Sunday,” Mel said. “He’s going to teach me to play pickleball and then we’re going to brunch.”

Frank scoffs. Pickleball. Good lord. “So that means you’re going on a date on Saturday with Ahmed and Sunday with John.”

Mel shrugs. “And Friday with Mateo. He wants to take me dancing. I’m a little nervous about that one.”

Mateo? Mateo has entered the arena? The Mateo Diaz, RN, BSN, ladykiller? Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Frank’s jaw drops as horror descends. No woman could say no to Mateo’s electric charm. Frank was pretty sure he would drop his (heterosexual) boxer briefs if Mateo took him out latin dancing. Mel had no chance.

Not to mention: “You already have plans Friday night,” Frank accuses. “Pizza Friday!"

“You and Becca rain check on me all the time,” Mel says with a shrug. “I figured it’s my turn. Have fun watching Elf.”

—

Mel is punishing him, Langdon decides. Abby used to do this shit to him all the time, so he’s familiar with the move. He hasn’t been paying enough attention to her. He’ll rectify that, with haste. 

Langdon will fix all of this.

—

“Dana, I need you to switch up the schedule this weekend,” whines Langdon. 

Dana already has her aviators on, tote bag hoisted on her shoulder, and she’s striding for the door. “I’m clocked out, buster.”

“Come on, this is really important.”

“Schedules are made one month in advance,” she articulates each word with precision.

“I’m getting sick!” he says, trailing after her. “I have a tickle in my throat. I’m not going to be able to work on Saturday and Sunday. Oh, and McKay has the same thing, so she can’t work that Friday swing shift. Mel is going to take them.” He winced, feeling the tiniest hint of remorse at signing Mel up for a surprise double from hell. “If, uh, if you give her time and a half.”

Dana swings around so suddenly that Langdon nearly runs into her. “Ya think I’m stupid? You think Mel’s stupid?”

Langdon bristles. “Mel’s not stupid.”

“Then stop with these dumbass plans. If you’re gonna do something, do something, Langdon.”

“What do you mean?”

“Woo the lady! Everyone else is putting their best foot forward. You're just stamping yours in a hissy fit. They’ve all been upfront about their intentions and planned nice dates for her. I haven’t seen any of that from you.”

“It’s not that easy,” Frank objects, miserable. Absurdly, a stone has formed in his throat like he could cry. “I’ve been getting my life back together. The divorce. My sobriety.”

Dana softens. “That’s a good excuse. But Dr. King is a real sweetheart. A catch. She wasn’t going to hide her light under a bushel for forever. Her life is moving on, with or without you.”

“But…” Langdon can barely speak past the rock in his throat. “But she’s…” 

Mine. 

I saw her first. 

I noticed her and appreciated her and valued her before anyone else in this hellhole. 

“If you think you deserve the girl, win her fair and square.”

“She’s not an object to be won,” Frank objected weakly. 

Dana’s eyes pierce Frank's soul. “This isn’t PE class, Langdon.” She taps a finger into his chest for emphasis. “This is war.”

—

[h0mespun]

I’m alone this weekend with grand plans to sit my ass on the couch to watch tennis / write kingdon nonstop. send a shout if you want to see a snippet of my kingdon week WIPs!! it will encourage me.

King Hunt ♟️💘 Word spreads across the Pitt that Dr. Mel King is looking for a boyfriend. Langdon throws his hat in the ring.

you are a tourist 🪳🐺 When Frank Langdon awoke from troubled dreams one morning, he found that he had been transformed in his bed into a monstrous dog.