bring the bass back

my love, your love, your time machine.

[thestargazerlily]

── lilly

YOU SEEM PRETTY ANGRY FOR A GIRL SO FULL OF HOPE.

20s. she/her. stuck in a time loop (again). germany. of sunsets and earrings and unmade beds. something different bloomed, writing in my room. at the beach, in every life, through every door.

[🪩] my web weavings [🐛] my edits [🍀] my writing ⋆ ao3 [🎧] music recs ⋆ my spotify [📖] fable ⋆ reado [🩷] fav books/movies/shows/albums of... 2025

[kingdoncrumbs]

sparks | @kingdonmicrofic july 4 | 380

Frank wasn’t surprised when he got home to find the fireworks had been done without him. Abby and the kids had already gone to sleep and the remnants of another memory he wasn’t apart of were left for him to clean up.

The pain of constant disappointment had become dull long ago, something he’d learn to expect and live with. Today it was easier, because his mind was stuck replaying his shift, the record scratching on a few parts.

The closed cervical reduction, that felt great. The confrontations with Santos, with Robby? Not so much. Whipping his dick out in front of a random guy for his drug test wasn’t so good, either. But those were all drowned out by Mel; her hands around his bicep as she greeted him with the most genuine smile he’d seen in months, her low and steady voice as she talked some sense into him, the way he believed her. Not to mention the way her lips looked when she’d smiled at him in the ambulance bay.

When he picked up the box of sparklers lying on the driveway, one fell out and onto the pavement. He turned it over it in his fingers as he recalled their conversation; her trust in him, as a doctor, when she asked him to teach her, her faith in him when he questioned if he was ready for this. Pulling out the lighter from his jeans pocket, he lit the end, spitting flames dancing on air.

He remembered the fireworks they watched, the way they reflected in her glasses and her eyes, lighting up her dark lashes. He remembered the way his hands shook when he found her there, when he realized she was the only one he really wanted to talk to after the day he had.

The sparkler in his hand fizzled out, reminding him of the life he had to return to inside his dark and quiet house. Just before he went to toss it in the trash, it reignited, in one final burst of light. That night, from his familiarly uncomfortable spot on the couch, he dreamt of being engulfed in a flame, the same shade of gold as her hair was under the ambulance bay light.

happy kingdon reunion day, kingdon nation!!! <3 what a glorious day babes we’re soooo going canon

[kingdonspirits]

@kingdonmicrofic • Day 4: Sparks • 342/342 • Rated: G

•••

Hot leather clung to the skin behind her thighs and sweat pooled in the back of her t-shirt as soon as Mel sat down. The steering wheel was uncomfortably hot to the touch. Igneous and cursed, this car was going to be the death of her. Or the pedestrian jogging on the sidewalk in front of her driveway before she bumped him right off his feet.

“Jeez—” Mel unbuckled herself and hopped out of her seat “—are you all right, sir?” She pulled the stranger to his feet before she checked for bruises or lacerations. “Are you bleeding? Any pain? Do you mind if I take a closer look?”

He looked amused instead. People were usually mad when you ran them over, right?

“Relax, miss…"

“Again, I am so, so sorry.”

The stranger chuckled. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. It was a love tap at most.” He threw his hands up in surrender. Charming and obviously unscathed by the way he sauntered over to her car and popped the hood open to examine the engine. “New development?”

“Yeah,” Mel huffed and joined him, “that started a few minutes ago.”

The Subaru was her mother’s car, then Mel’s after sophomore year of college.

Another loss. Another slew of memories to leave behind.

“Not a problem, you’ll need a new spark plug.” He eased her worries with a few words. “Take her to the shop on Church Street, ask for Brian Langdon, say you need an iridium replacement, tell ‘em you’re a friend of Frank’s for the friends and family discount.”

“But we’re not friends or—”

“That’s easier to fix.” Frank motioned for her phone and typed something before handing it back. “Call me if they give you any trouble.”

“Thanks! Really glad I bumped into you—or bumped you?” That got another laugh out of him. “But yeah, thank you, Frank.”

“Don’t sweat it... and don’t be a stranger.”

At the bottom of her weekly to-do list, under replace spark plug, Mel typed out another task.

Call Frank + apologize over coffee/brunch.

[angstykingdonaugust]

These prompts can be interpreted in any way that you see fit, these are just some basic explanations and examples to help you along the way. 

Grief/Addiction

Grief is the response to the loss of something deemed important to which a bond or affection was formed. For this prompt a writer could write a story about Frank grieving his relationship with his wife and kids. A gif maker could make a gifset of times that Mel mentions the loss of her parents.

Addiction is characterized by a persistent and intense urge to engage in something that produces an immediate psychological reward, despite the negative consequences. For this prompt an artist could create a piece portraying the effects of Frank’s addiction on himself. You could write a story of Mel navigating an addiction of her own. You could even create an analysis of Frank’s character arc as a recovering addict.

Miscommunication/Hanahaki

Miscommunication is an instance where either the speaker is unable to provide the proper and adequate information to the hearer or the hearer misperceived and could not recognise the communication from the speaker. For this prompt a writer could write a drabble where Frank makes a comment to Mel that she misunderstands, causing her to create distance between them. A video editor could create an edit of Mel and Frank in an alternate universe where they experience miscommunication in their relationship.

Hanahaki is a fictional disease where someone begins coughing up flower petals because they have unrequited feelings for someone. The flowers can grow in the stomach, lungs, or heart. It begins with coughing up a few petals, and grows in intensity and pain until the victim is coughing up entire flowers, at which point the disease has reached its final stages. If not treated, the disease is fatal. We know there’s some fantastic artists out there that will create some gut wrenching pieces with this prompt and we’re very excited to see what everyone comes up with!

Touch Starvation/Smangst

Touch starvation is the physiological need by humans and other species for physical contact with their own species or other living beings. Its prolonged absence can have traumatic impacts on an individual's emotional, physical, and/or mental well-being. An artist could create a piece of Frank yearning for Mel’s touch. A collage maker could create a piece of all the times Mel and Frank reached for each other.

Smangst is a combination of Smut and Angst. So anything with sexual intimacy that also has an undertone of emotional pain, relationship conflict, or just anything sad.

Angst With A Happy Ending/Free Choice

We’re finishing the month by giving Mel and Frank a happy ending! This could be a hurt/comfort fic, or a gifset showing Mel and Frank always finding each other after all of the struggles of their day.

Or, if you’re not down with that you can fulfill your own angsty prompt!

[angstykingdonaugust]

We hope Mel and Frank are ready to go through the wringer, because every Monday and Friday from August 3rd to August 28th they will be enduring

Angsty Kingdon August!

This is an event entirely centered around putting Mel and Frank through angsty situations, so a trigger warning is definitely in place! There’s going to be some pretty dark content that comes out of this, so if that’s not something you want to see then go ahead and block our blog and our tag!

We will be having Mel Misery Mondays and Frank Forlornness Fridays! These are just suggestions to inspire you (and because who doesn’t love alliteration?). You do not need to choose Mel as your main subject for Monday and vice versa. These will be the days of the week that you upload your creations. Anything posted outside of the designated days will be scheduled to be reblogged on Saturday the 29th!

Each week has two prompts to help guide your creative process! The prompts will follow the blank/blank format and it is up to you to decide which one to use for each day (or use both!). For example- if the prompt is illness/injury, you could give Mel an injury on Monday, and Frank an illness on Friday, vice-versa, or give them both an illness and injury. It is also up to you whether you post/create something for both days, as you are invited to post just on Monday or just on Friday. This is all about having fun (and tormenting our fav characters), so feel free to take inspiration from what you want and leave the rest! 

MONDAY THE 3RD & FRIDAY THE 7TH -Grief/Addiction MONDAY THE 10TH & FRIDAY THE 14TH -Miscommunication/Hanahaki MONDAY THE 17TH & FRIDAY THE 21ST -Touch Starvation/Smangst MONDAY THE 24TH & FRIDAY THE 28TH -Angst With A Happy Ending/Free Choice

Check out the prompts post for further details on these!

Do you want them to be doomed to an eternity of sadness? Leaving them stranded forever in the torment nexus? Go ahead, you can do that! Do you want their story to resolve and for them to both live happily ever after? Do you want to give them the joy canon never could? Go ahead, you can do that too! It’s up to you to decide whether the angst is eternal or gets resolved with comfort! Just please be sure to tag your fics accordingly!

We have created a collection on ao3 that you can add your fics to here. Please use our hashtag #angstykingdonaugust2026 and tag us @angstykingdonaugust. We will be reblogging your creations all throughout the month and can't wait to see what you come up with! 

Check out our Rules and FAQ post for any unanswered questions.

We are so excited for you to participate and help the summer months of the hiatus go by just a little faster!

With love from your admins,

@AlysonAfterDark @TvGremlin @PurpleButterflyGlasses

[audreyvoilax]

Happy kingdon-going-canon-eve everyone!

[kingdoncrumbs]

the hand placement that makes me go crazy and hurt myself and others

[stickwithme1]

@kingdonmicrofic day 3: gala 493/467. reverse age gap. implied secret relationship

Frank Langdon is sweating buckets from anxiety, dread and the thick suit he borrowed from a colleague who worked in the ICU who had forgotten to mention that it was a winter suit.

Which would’ve been helpful, as the hospital’s annual gala was in July.

It wasn’t mandated to come, but lots of people from upstairs had come down to mention all the networking opportunities events like this came with, how it helps make the hospital look good for the public and in simpler terms if you want to finish your residency here, smile your pretty face to the donors, intern.

And Frank can admit, he’s a charmer. It’s how he stayed out of trouble in school and in college, smiling at teachers and professors, putting on his Southern drawl a bit thicker and laying out an extra ma’am or sir when the situation called for it.

But between the heat, the heavy suit and the ways dozens of people’s eyes turned blank the moment he mentions it’s only his first year at the hospital, the night out was a loss.

So, after a while, here he was people watching beside the bar, surrounded by other colleagues from PTMC that are busy talking amongst themselves; as he holds onto an almost empty champagne glass that he doesn’t want to let go of because he has no idea what to do with his hands.

“You know, you’re supposed to hold the glass at the stem.” A voice comes up from behind him, raising the hairs on the back of his neck.

He’d recognize that voice anywhere, even amongst the constant drawl of ass-kissing and schmoozing in the room. When he turns around, he sees Dr. Mel King, smiling, her crows feet out in force, wearing a simple ankle length light green dress, her hair loose and wavy.

“Enjoying the party?” She smiles, now standing beside him, looking out to the event.

“I am now.” He whispers to her, pleased when Mel rolls her eyes and hits him on the shoulder softly, arm subtly sliding down to his forearm,

“You look…” Breathtaking. Beautiful. Devastatingly hot. Every other completely inappropriate HR-worthy term. “Very lovely, Dr. King.”

She flushes “Mel, please. And thank you, you look lovely as well, Frank.”

“Have you been able to mingle?”

“Oh, yes. Dr. Underwood enjoys showing off her show-pony for autistic representation.” Mel remarks dryly, stealing his finger-print-stained flute glass and drinking the last dregs. “I was actually about to head out when I saw my favorite intern standing by himself.”

“I’ll have to tell Whitaker you hold him in such high esteem.” Frank says lowly, stealing a glance around if someone’s watching, feeling like he’s dancing around something dangerous.

“He could never.” Mel says, kind yet firm, something almost possessive flashing in her eyes

Her hand that had never really departed him his forearm squeezes softly and Frank’s feels it almost as she were holding his lungs in her hands.

[kingdonmicrofic]

[pinkspaceranger]

for @kingdonmicrofic day 3: gala | 485 words | ao3 | cw: infidelity, brief mention of drug addiction/benzos

"Can't you try and look happy?"

"It just feels stupid when this is all a facade."

"We're still married, my last name is still Langdon, and we still live together with our two beautiful kids. What part of that is a facade?" Abby had an uncanny way of twisting things to make them fit her narrative. "Look, all I'm asking is for you to pretend we're still in love for one night. We're already here. It's a few hours then you can run back to your little girlfriend."

"Mel. You know her name is Mel," Frank interjected sharply.

Abby rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know her name is Mel, Frank. It's not like you were subtle with 'Mel this' and 'Mel that', talking about her like she hung the moon. I'm pretty sure you even moaned her name the last time we had sex so yeah, I know her fucking name," she spat out.

It was his fault for starting this up again. He should've been better at hiding his disinterest.

He and Abby had come to an agreement, she wanted to stay married for her reputation—the leeches she called friends would pounce if they knew she was in marital trouble—but they were both well aware their marriage was over. She never protested when he spent time with Mel and didn't come home or objected to him bringing her around the kids; he was damn lucky for that. When she told him to clear his calendar for the annual gala her company hosted every year, he had done so without complaint.

He had put her through hell the past few years with the benzos and then with Mel. Abby was bitter—she had every right to be—but she'd been very good to him. Would he like to officially be divorced so he could publicly date Mel? Sweep her off her feet at the end of a long shift? Yeah, he would. But Abby had stayed and supported him through rehab and all she'd asked for in return when his and Mel's affair had been revealed was that they stay married for a little bit longer. He doubted Abby's life plans included staying in a loveless marriage forever so he'd given that to her easily; Mel had understood. The collapse of their marriage wasn't solely on him but he did owe her for his part in it.

"I'm sorry, Abby. You're right. Let's not fight." He picked up her left hand with its gleaming diamond wedding band and gave it a kiss, playing his part of the dutiful husband. Her hand felt foreign in his, despite the fact they've been married for almost six years. It wasn't the hand he was used to anymore.

Again, she rolled her eyes but the previous fury in her was gone. They weren't perfect by any means but they were figuring it out as best they could.

[etherrealsx]

@kingdonmicrofic day 3: gala wc: 467 (hit the exact word count!) | rated g also read on ao3!

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･ ⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣

The concept of a hospital fundraising gala- an event where they all would have to dress up smart and engage in polite conversation with potential investors- seemed so foreign to Frank. The biggest event he’d ever attended (bar his own wedding) was his high school prom. ER doctors never got invited to things like this, but after Pittfest, the hospital board finally decided it was time for some proper investments. 

His suit was old, and a little too small. The ER bathrooms had turned into makeshift dressing rooms for day shift staff who were heading off to the gala.  

“Hey- asshole.” Frank heard Trinity call. She was in a full-length indigo dress and looked completely out of place amongst the working doctors and patients in the ER. “You gotta get in there. Mel’s completely freaking out.” 

“What, into the women's restroom?”  

“Just shut up and go be a decent boyfriend, ok?” 

Mel had been freaking out for weeks leading up to the event. If Frank thought the idea of the gala seemed foreign, to Mel it seemed otherwordly. Mel, who hadn’t even attended her senior prom as it had fallen on the anniversary of her father’s passing.  

“Babe? You in here?” Frank said, covering his eyes as he opened the door to the ladies’ room.  

“Yep. I’m over here.” Mel croaked, her voice quiet, like she’d been crying.  

“What’s going on?” He asked, feeling his heart breaking in his chest at the sound of her meek sniffs.  

When he lowered his hand (thankfully Mel was alone in the restroom), he could see her standing by a sink, looking absolutely stunning in a satin chocolate brown dress that reached just below her knees. She was struggling to tie a necklace, the one she’d shown him after picking it out with Becca.  

“I just can’t get this clasp to tie, and I feel like a look stupid.” 

“You look incredible, babe.” Frank said. It was true- she'd replaced her usual braid with a neat bun and had obviously let Trinity put a little bit of makeup on her. “Here- let me help.” 

He walked over to her, gently taking the fine pieces of necklace chain in his hands and easily clasping it around her neck. The sight of her exposed shoulders was simply too much for him- he leaned down and grazed a soft kiss at the crook of her neck, feeling her shudder at the delicate touch.  

“I don’t feel like myself.” 

Frank wrapped his arms around her shoulders, watching their reflection back in the mirror in front of him. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” 

Mel visibly loosened in his arms, turning round to look back up at him with those gorgeous brown eyes of hers. 

“No. It’s fine. I’ve got you know.” 

[kingdonmicrofic]

[keikomivra]

THE BEAR (2022 - 2026) 5.04: Ribs

Oh, also, if we're gonna invite people into our home, we are gonna look like a fucking family.

[detailspecialist]

Dr. Melissa King and Dr. John Shen in

THE PITT (2025- )

[boykavalier]

Ken Kirby as Dr. John Shen THE PITT 2.14 "8:00 P.M."

[robinavich]

KEN KIRBY as DR. JOHN SHEN The Pitt (2025)

[kodachromantic]

today is the last day mel king has to live without frank langdon LETS GOOOOOO

[marsbarstothestars]

AHHHHHHH

[lunarfuneral]

frank swiping away abbys notifications to keep texting mel frank muting abby but putting mel in his favorites and she’s the only one that can notify him when it’s on do not disturb frank making a special vibrate pattern for mels texts so he knows its her frank getting up early just to text mel good morning frank prioritizing mel in really small and innocuous ways that are more damning than if he’d just kissed her

[captainscurvyisajoke]

@kingdonmicrofic

Day 3: gala💎 (infidelity)

Word count: 467

“Oh, what a night, Dr. Langdon,” Mel sighs as they step out of the elevator into the hallway where their hotel rooms are waiting.

Exhaustion is clear in her features from all the small talk and slow dancing they did during the hospital gala.

He can only hum in agreement. It has been tiring in that particular way, forced politeness always is. He has attended it a few times before, but it is Mel's first.

There has been a little skip in her step the whole evening. Of course, she looks elegant in her long, satin green dress, her hair braided to one side, falling in waves over her right shoulder. But there is a sparkle in her eyes, something dreamy in her smile, the excitement clear for anyone who bothers to look.

And oh, Frank looks.

It isn't rare. He has had a soft spot for her since the beginning, after all. But tonight —lately— he can't make himself look away.

“Frank,” she whispers as they reach her door. A shiver runs down his spine at the sound of his name on her lips. The first time, she dropped the honorific. It’s something so small, it shouldn’t have that effect.

Her eyes, shimmery the whole night, suddenly seem darker and more inviting at the same time as they lock onto his. As if the shadows are trying to pull him in.

He sways slightly in his spot.

“I'm going to bed now,” she says, her voice soft as a secret.

Turning around, she places the card against the lock. The low cut of her dress catches his attention; he can't help but think her skin looks incredibly soft.

It feels like that, too.

The memory of all the times his fingers trace her waist lightly through the night to guide her around the ballroom makes his fingertips tingle, and he flinches.

Mel steps into the room, hands reaching up to undo her hair, and leaves the door ajar.

It feels like an invitation if he'd ever seen one. Or maybe it’s wishful thinking.

Frank should get a grip.

He should go into his room across the hallway, call his beautiful wife and talk to his perfect kids, take off the tuxedo that has been suffocating him all evening, and try not to think about the way Melissa King looked under the ballroom lights.

Instead, he stays and stares at the door as if it has personally offended him.

What the hell, exactly, is he doing?

He exhales deeply and reaches for the door handle.

He should close it.

A shadow moves inside the room. The soft rustle of fabric against the carpet reaches his ears.

The door clicks shut.

He has never been good at doing what he should.

The sound echoes through the empty hallway.

[kingdonmicrofic]

[craftclass]

@kingdonmicrofic july 3, gala (wc: 407/467) cw: emotional infidelity (+ possible implied physical infidelity. choose your own adventure infidelity.)

Abby rented her dress off of an app. It’s solid black, trendy and form-fitting, and it’ll go back in the mail on Monday. She looks incredible. All the women at the gala say so, and Frank says so too.

Mel's dress is a shiny emerald green. It puffs at the sleeves. It sags at the waist, hanging off her frame in an admittedly unflattering way. The skirt is a strange length, hitting somewhere between her mid and lower calves. He still has a hard time looking anywhere else. 

"God love her," Abby mutters. "That wouldn’t have even been cute in the eighties."

Frank knows she’s not being deliberately cruel. It’s just one of those inside thoughts that she feels comfortable voicing to him privately because they’re married and he knows her well enough.

And if it wasn’t Mel she was talking about, he might indulge her with a laugh or a yeah, it’s pretty awful. But it is Mel, so he doesn’t react at all - except for a brief, involuntary tightening of his lips. Abby looks at him and then away again. “Huh,” she says.  

So he waits until Abby is in the bathroom and Mel is on her own, far from the crowd, gently swaying to the music. 

"You look beautiful," he says. 

Mel flushes, smiles and then shrugs, looking down at the dress.

"Well. This was my mother's," she says. 

She picks at the skirt - maybe there’s a bit of dust there he can’t see, or maybe she’s just feeling uncomfortable. One of her sleeves slips off the shoulder, and she pulls it back up with a little awkwardness.

"It doesn't fit right," she says apologetically. "She was taller."

"It fits fine."

"It doesn't."

"It fits fine, Mel."

She looks up at him then - she has to crook her neck back because he's standing too close. Somewhere nearby, his wife is wearing a dress that she’ll have for a weekend, and Mel is standing in front of him in a dress that has been hanging in a closet for maybe thirty-five years. 

"Thank you, Frank," she says. “I’m really happy you said that.” 

He knows he should keep an eye out for his wife. But - fuck it - she always takes ages in the bathroom anyway, and Mel looks like she could use a breather. 

He asks her if she wants to get some air, and follows the shine of her green dress out the door.