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“What do you think about the severe rash case? Think you want in on it or can I take it?”
Frank turns to face her, which makes her look at him. His eyebrow is raised, an expression of focus on his face. “I think I want you to take a break.”
Mel laughs, glances away before making eye contact again. “That’s a funny joke.”
“No, I'm serious. Mel, go take fifteen,” he says with a firm tone.
“But I don’t need a break.”
Frank places a gentle, yet strong, hand on her shoulder. Mel glances down at it, a bit too stunned to speak; her brain trips over itself. Frank rarely touches her like this. It should be overstimulating — and if it were anyone else, it very well might’ve been — but instead the weight of his hand on her shoulder grounds her. Becomes an anchor.
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He lit a cigarette while leaning up against the wall, Mel falling into a seated position next to him. “Right, I’m sure that it’s frustrating to see autistic patients suffer, what with-”
“Becca, yeah,” Mel nodded. “You were great with her.”
Langdon made a bit of a strange expression. “Sure, with Becca. But also with you.”
“Me?” Mel said quizzically. “I’m not autistic.”
Langdon nodded, a second late. “Right, yeah. Yes.”
Mel doesn't believe she's autistic. So why does Langdon keep treating her like she is?
Bookmarked by marfra
11 Sep 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
It’s comforting and terrifying at the same time, the joy of being known but the horror of being seen.
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She was sort of a little bit thrilled by it, thrilled by his choosing her, thrilled by the STEMI timing, thrilled by the way the department worked so smoothly sometimes she felt like a cog in a machine.
And she liked to think she was a cog in a machine because it meant she was useful and purposeful and something needed or even wanted her there. She thought of Eleanor in The Haunting of Hill House, who said, placidly, she remembered because the word was so pleasing and so sad, “I’ve never been wanted anywhere.” She felt very much like Eleanor, haunted by ghosts, reaching out her hand in the darkness and waking up alone. And her intense wanting was a wound she was sure people could see, bleeding down her forehead, a primal warning sign to back away slowly so no one else would get hurt. What about me, she wanted to beg, what about my wound, but she knew that, too, was a childish fantasy. That it would be more work than anyone was willing to put in to get past the walls she put up in the form of busyness and delight and surface-level vulnerability so they couldn’t see the depth of her hurt and grief lurking inside.
Bookmarked by marfra
08 Aug 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
Great, great Mel voice centred around grief and loneliness with killer observations and passages
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“That’s Abby? Jesus, Langdon. I didn’t know you had a type.”
“What?”
“You know everyone calls Mel your work wife, right? It’s fucked up. Have you seen how she looks at you?”
Bookmarked by marfra
11 May 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
when you need it to hurt
(great Mel introspection but no happy ending)
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"Do you want to talk about it?" Frank asked, two or three hours later.
Mel paused, fingers hovering over an iPad. "My peanut allergy in South 6?"
Series
- Part 1 of off-screen
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“I think I need some air,” he sheepishly chuckled, wiping the blood from his arm onto his shirt, gesturing to the mess on the floor like it was an insignificant accident, the occupational hazard of being at a bar, not a clear indication that something had gone horribly wrong. “Care to join me?”
“Uhm,” Mel said, “sure.”
But a voice behind her said at the same moment, “Nah.”
Mel’s head whipped around. Frank had a tight frown on his face, his arms were crossed against his chest, and he walked towards them, his eyes squarely on Cole.
Mel runs into an old patient from the VA while the PTMC crew is out at a bar celebrating Dana’s birthday. It’s a welcome distraction from Abby Langdon until he gets too drunk. Frank intervenes.
Series
- Part 1 of the glass in your eyes
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Langdon’s never said anything about liking Mel. That doesn’t mean he isn’t thinking about it.
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Bookmarked by marfra
04 Mar 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
He doesn’t see her later. In fact, he avoids her almost completely for the rest of the week, volunteering for a shift in triage purgatory and trading for an overnight that leaves him groggy and mean. He tells himself it’s for the best–the whole situation was getting weird, clearly, and Frank has been letting it happen because he’s starved for positive attention and there’s literally nothing else going on in his life, but enough is enough. They’re coworkers; he’s her supervisor, technically. This is his entire fucking career.
Gritty yet very tender
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It was probably a good thing that no one assumed that Mel and Frank could possibly be dating. They had agreed to keep it a secret, after all.
But, come on. Not one rumor? Really?
It was starting to piss Frank off.
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- English
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Bookmarked by marfra
04 Mar 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
smile on my face all way through!!
“I love you too.” He replied, nearly choking, like the words had been punched out of him. Then he said it again, just to feel it twice: “I love you too.”
(Frank had been telling Mel he loved her for the past four weeks, which had already been an enormous show of restraint on his part. It was only the “too” part that was new. And it felt glorious.)
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She’d been here time and time again; they’d arrived at a Mel King grade-one emergency.
Series
- Part 1 of melangdon fic
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 38,831
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Comments:
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Bookmarked by marfra
16 Feb 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
“Thank you,” she said, quietly. The emotion shone out of it unwillingly, sounding too raw for comfort. She couldn’t backtrack on it; she meant it completely.
Mel forced her gaze to the ground, to the hardwood. She was sure her face was bright red. She had to get herself under control—this wasn’t middle school, and this wouldn’t be anything more than an embarrassing crush. She had to be realistic. He was her senior resident, and she still had a year of residency left. He was newly sober, newly divorced, and, with their schedules, most of the time they’d ever spend together would be in the Pitt.
She had to be realistic. She wouldn’t be doodling Mrs. Frank Langdon anywhere, mostly because she’d long since thought it through and decided she wanted to keep her last name if she ever got married, not only out of memory for her parents, but also to keep her surname the same as Becca’s for both sentimental and logistical reasons, and also because she still thought of Abby as that.
So this was what she would be doing: stuffing all her feelings in a mental banker's box and then, her favorite part, absolutely nothing after that.
Great Mel voice; loved the progression of their dynamic. Instant classic.
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Summary
The day after Frank’s world comes crashing down, he gets a chance for a do-ever. The first time it was a blessing. The second time it was a curse.
What is it that he’s supposed to be fixing?
This feels exceptionally difficult to actually write down, in ink:
Every morning, I wake up and it’s September 5th again.
It’s been eleven days now. I don’t know why writing it down makes me want to be sick all over again.
I’m not going to do a second-by-second ticktock of exactly what happens. I know what happens. And if I can’t remember, all I have to do is wait twenty-four hours for it to come around again. Jesus H Fucking Christ.
Bookmarked by marfra
08 Jan 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
love me a good ol' time loop fic that informs canon
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Summary
Fourteen day shifts that Mel and Frank share after he returns to work.
He instinctively looked for a braid and scrub pants, the only fit he'd ever seen her in. It took his brain a hot second to realise the woman in jeans, white sneakers, and a ponytail through her snapback was actually Mel.
At which point he walked full tilt into a wall.
Bookmarked by marfra
16 Dec 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
He ashed the cigarette as she grasped for the magic words that would fix this.
“Someone told me once that we need sensitive people.”
He didn’t stop crying, but at least he laughed. “That’s cruel, Mel. My own medicine.”
So, she offered up a second dose: “Would you like a hug?”
A sob cracked through. “Yeah, I really would.”
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Summary
You saw a lot of it in hospitals — a wife who turns out, later, to not be the wife.
Bookmarked by marfra
19 Sep 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
Now, Frank was so solid on top of her, it was like he was making her solid too — rebuilding her touch by touch. For a few years there, she’d felt like anyone reaching for her would just pass right through; like she was a person-shaped outline with her insides all erased out. But the weight of him — warm, sweat-slick, slotted between her thighs — made it hard to remember.
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Something clattered in the bathroom. Everything inside of Mel went very, very still.
Santos looked at the shut door. She processed.
“Mel King, you dirty dog.” A slow grin stretched over her face. “Did you hook up with someone last night?”(The gang goes to a medical conference.)
Bookmarked by marfra
09 Jun 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
for the blueberries
(loved the little details & subtlety of the narration)
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Written for the qaf_giftxchnge community, long ago, on insane journal and live journal. The request was for fluffy, B/J office fic set around time that Justin is an intern but before the Stockwell crusade.
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The summer after season 3, and they're weirdly happy.
Bookmarked by marfra
12 Mar 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
His happiness is a subdued hum, inexplicable and inarticulate.
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Ten years after the end of Season 3, and the living is good. Or so it would appear.
Bookmarked by marfra
12 Mar 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
Don't know why I didn't bookmark this the first time around.
Title says it all
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Bookmarked by marfra
10 Mar 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
I felt a deep sense of foreboding reading this story, though it is ultimately a hopeful glimpse at their dynamics
I reach across the counter to his grease filled, death beckoning limp hand hovering above the bowl and stop him from picking at nothing.
“It’s good. It’s what I needed” He meets my look with half-lids, not willing to believe me, just yet. “Thanks.” He nods his head, bites his bottom lip and looks down at the bowl, at our hands dangling precariously above the cushioning of soggy, butter filled popcorn. And down he shoves, smiling wickedly while I squirm.
Maybe that’s why I wanted him here. To force my hand.
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Brian Kinney | Should Have Known Better [fanvid] by wrensandroses
Fandoms: Queer as Folk (US)
29 Dec 2021
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Summary
"I should have known better. Nothing can be changed. The past is still the past, the bridge to nowhere."
A visual character study, exploring Brian and his various hang-ups about life, death, age, beauty, romance, family, and, of course, love.
Series
- Part 3 of Queer As Folk Fanvids
Bookmarked by marfra
09 Mar 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
incredibly well matched clips & music/lyrics; includes captions
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Summary
"So," I said. "You know how you were thinking about asking your shrink to up your antidepressant?"
He looked at me warily. “Yeah.”
"Any further thoughts on that? Because I just looked at that painting you finished and now I’m thinking about killing myself, too."
Series
- Part 14 of The One Where Justin Loses His Hearing
Bookmarked by marfra
07 Mar 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
The [redacted] scene at the end took my breath away