Friday: Songs in the Key of…Life

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Hi! I’m brumeier, and this week we’ve been filling prompts using music. Thank you so much to everyone who participated with prompts and fills this week! Our final theme of the week is Songs in the Key of…Life! Your prompts can be any song title, set of lyrics, band name, or album title that has to do with life – the good, the bad, the silly. Any moments big or small.

Just a few rules:
No more than five prompts in a row.
No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
Use the character's full names and fandom's full name for ease adding to the Lonely Prompts spreadsheet.
No spoilers in prompts for a month after airing, or use the spoiler cut option found here.
If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space, or use the spoiler cut.
If there are possible triggers in your story, please warn for them in the subject line!

Prompts should be formatted as follows: [Use the character's full names and fandom's full name]
Fandom, Character +/ Character, Prompt

Some examples to get the ball rolling...

+ Stargate Multiverse, Any,

Safe from the past and doin' okay but not very well
No jolts, no surprises, no crisis arises
My life goes along as it should
It's all very nice, but not very good
(Barry Manilow)

+ Marvel Cinematic Universe, Any,

I wanna go home
Take off this uniform and leave the show
(Pink Floyd)

+ Astro, Any, The Off-Season (J. Cole)

+ Prodigal Son, Any, Soberish (Liz Phair)

We use AO3 to bookmark filled prompts. If you fill a prompt and post it to AO3 please add it to the Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2016 collection. See further notes on this new option here.

Not feeling any of today’s prompts? Check out Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet 1 (not very current), Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet 2, or the Calendar Archives, or for more recent prompts, you can use LJ's advanced search options to find prompts to request and/or fill.

While the Lonely Prompts Spreadsheets and LJ's advanced search options are available, bookmarking the links of prompts you like might work better for searching for in the future.

tag=songs/life

Comments

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Stargate Multiverse, Any,

Safe from the past and doin' okay but not very well
No jolts, no surprises, no crisis arises
My life goes along as it should
It's all very nice, but not very good
(Barry Manilow)

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Marvel Cinematic Universe, Any,

I wanna go home
Take off this uniform and leave the show
(Pink Floyd)

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Astro, Any, The Off-Season (J. Cole)

Fill 1/3: Rocky + a bit of MJ, gen

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

Think of it as your off-season, Myungjun had said, when Minhyuk’s enlistment papers came in the mail. Your chance to be just you, just Minhyuk, for a whole eighteen months. No makeup. No wild hair colors. No cameras. No fans. No management. Just you.

Myungjun hadn’t extolled the true virtues of military life: regular meal times, and regular sleep schedules. Minhyuk had started training to be a professional entertainer when he was ten years old, and his sleep schedule had been...nonexistent since then.

Minhyuk actually liked the way he looked with his hair black, even if the military haircut wasn’t the most stylish. And he did like not having to wear makeup every day, and not fretting over whether what he’d chosen to wear should he dare leave the dorm was appropriately stylish, should a fan spot him. He didn’t have to worry about cameras following him around, and keeping up energy when he was exhausted or hadn’t slept at all, or doing aegyo.

He could just be.

Minhyuk wasn’t a talker as much as he was a doer. Jinwoo and Sanha and Myungjun achieved mental clarity through stillness, or maybe some kind of distraction like video games or drawing or working in the studio that allowed them to do but also to think. Minhyuk was like Bin and Dongmin: movement was what allowed him to think. Dongmin liked to go for a drive or a walk. Bin went to the gym.

Minhyuk had usually danced. But here, in the military, he could go back to his older roots, parts of him that he’d neglected, like his taekwondo.

Taekwondo, like dance, required coordination and strength and precision and skill. Minhyuk enjoyed focusing on those skills in a new way. His father had been so proud of him when he’d been accepted into the Special Forces after rigorous physical testing.

And now Minhyuk was among the best of the best, and he was becoming one of the best: one of the best fighters, best shooters, best runners. Years of choreographing for his team had taught him how to coordinate the movements of many people, and his tactical skills were increasing.

One of the nicest things about being in the military was that Minhyuk didn’t have to be cute and charming. As long as he was polite and respectful, the other men in his squad didn’t care that he didn’t say much and didn’t smile much; they liked that he was a good cook when it was his turn on KP, and that he did what he was supposed to, and that he did it well.

Was this who Park Minhyuk was, when left to his own devices?

When Myungjun had been in the army, he’d done army musicals, the same as so many other idols. Jinwoo had made squad leader. Dongmin had been a squad leader as well, organized and efficient and good at making people pay attention to him. Bin had mostly earned accolades for his excellent physical performance.

What was Minhyuk? The robot everyone joked about, who worked like a machine.

Minhyuk didn’t much mind it, though, because he felt almost...zen. His body was reaching peak condition. It did what he wanted, when he wanted, and he thrilled in it. As a child he’d thrilled in receiving compliments for his dancing, and like Billy Elliot he’d channeled all the emotions he couldn’t communicate through words into his dancing.

Now he had other ways to channel his emotions: sparring, lifting weights, running, target practice.

But he rarely had emotions he couldn’t handle. Training for a musical and then as an idol and then being an idol had prepared Minhyuk for many aspects of military life: bunking with a bunch of men who were strangers at first; following orders, even inane ones or insane ones (no dating, no cellphones); and the erratic sleep and eating schedules for some of their more extreme training exercises.

The others didn’t care what Minhyuk had done before, and he didn’t really talk about it; for once, he was glad that people weren’t curious about him, weren’t asking questions about his personal life. His squad mates only cared what he could do here and now.

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Prodigal Son, Any, Soberish (Liz Phair)

Fill

[cornerofmadness.livejournal.com]

Title: Soberish

Summary: Jessica wants to find her sobriety and she hopes she’s on the right path.

here. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/32474260) (because it got long)

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

MI5|Spooks, Lucas North,

I saw a werewolf drinkin’ a pina colada at Trader Vic’s
And his hair was perfect
(Warren Zevon)

Fill:

[thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com]

The evening reception was an extremely formal event. Fortunately for Section D they had been allocated a table on one side of the beautifully manicured lawn, where they were able to relax slightly.

Ros sighed as she sat down and kicked off her shoes. “The best use for these heels would be to stab that loud-mouthed assistant from the foreign office.”

“Do you think they’d do sufficient damage?” Jo asked.

“Yes, if I used them front and back!”

Adam strolled over carrying two glasses, the werewolf at his heels.

“He’s looking very smart tonight,” Jo said.

“He’s had a bath and I spent ages brushing him, until he was completely satisfied,” Adam replied.

He bent down and held one of the drinks for the werewolf, who started lapping it noisily.

“What’s that he’s drinking?” Ros asked.

“Pina colada.”

“Do you really think that’s wise? Won’t it have a harmful effect?”

“He’ll be fine. He’s only allowed the one.”

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

Forever, Henry Morgan + Abe Morgan, Hide & Seek (Astro)

Fill:

[thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com]

Henry could hear loud noises coming from the closet at the back of Abe’s shop. He pulled the door open to investigate and found Abe inside, who started guiltily on seeing Henry.

“Aren’t you a bit old for playing hide and seek?” Henry asked.

“I was looking for something.”

“In the dark?”

“No, I had a flashlight with me. Anyway, it’s not there.” Abe tried to push past Henry, who didn’t move.

“Are you sure about that? I could help you look.”

“Thank you, but no.”

“It reminds me of when you used to go climbing in closets to look for your birthday presents. But it’s nowhere near your birthday,” Henry began. Then added, “Ah, in which case…”

“And if I’m too old to be playing hide and seek, you are much too old to be seeking your birthday present, even if I had hidden it,” Abe retorted. “Which I haven’t!”

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

BBC Robin Hood, Much, Our Spring (Astro)

Fill: Drabble

[thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com]

Much grabbed Guy’s hand and pulled him out of the building. It was little more than a shack, at the back of the farmer’s barn. They’d lived there over the winter since they’d fled Nottingham the previous autumn. But it had been home, and despite the cold, it had provided them with a roof over their heads.

“What’s so urgent that I’ve got to see it now?” Guy exclaimed.

“Look, the first daffodils are flowering,” Much said. “We’ve survived the winter and now this is our spring, to do with what we want. The beginning of our new life together.”

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

Hawaii Five-0, Steve McGarrett +/ Danny Williams, Summertime Blues (Eddie Cochran)

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

BBC Sherlock, any, Winter Dream (Astro)

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

Any, any, Growing Pains (Astro)

[ami-ven.livejournal.com]

Any, any, Life on the Moon (David Cook)

[ami-ven.livejournal.com]

Any, any, Life has a way of confusing us, / Blessing and bruising us / Drink, l'chaim, to life! (from Fiddler on the Roof)

[ami-ven.livejournal.com]

Any, any, Dead Is the New Alive (Emilie Autumn)

Fill 1/2: Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay (vampire!John 'verse)

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

John prowled the streets of the city, the scowl on his face keeping most people out of his direct path.

It was well past midnight, the moon a mere fingernail curve in the night sky, and it would easily enough managed to pull someone into a darkened alley and drain them of their blood. He hadn’t had to hunt for food for more than a decade now, but the urge was always there.

Especially tonight.

Rodney had been called away, gone for over a week now, and it made John restless. Edgy. He’d become attached to Rodney too quickly, too deeply, even though he knew better. Loving a mortal was a study in heartbreak. But this mortal in particular had been so different, so vibrant, so…Rodney.

And now John was probably going to lose him.

He’d made all the concessions he could, but the truth of the matter is that Rodney was born to walk in the light and John was doomed to exist in the shadows. He couldn’t always go where Rodney did. Couldn’t be there for Rodney in his own world. It wasn’t a sustainable relationship.

When John eventually stalked back up his block, dissatisfied and angry about it, Rodney was talking with Howard the doorman. One look at John’s face was enough for Rodney to cut things short with Howard and pull John away from the front door.

“Where have you been? I’ve been calling!”

“I was out,” John replied snappishly. “I do have a company to run, you know.”

He didn’t need the money, but he hated being idle. Nighthawk Security was the top firm in the country for personal protection services for the rich and powerful. The fact that John was never there in the daytime apart from live video feeds just made him eccentric.

“Then what’s with the face?”

“What face? This one?” John flashed his fangs and hissed, let his eyes bleed out to a pale blue that was almost white.

“Okay, let’s go.” Rodney pulled John across the street and into the public park.

It wasn’t the safest place to be in the middle of the night, even in that part of town, and John was almost hoping someone would try to mug them. He was spoiling for a fight.

Rodney pushed him down on a bench and loomed over him, arms crossed. “What’s going on?”

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” John countered.

Rodney’s work was technically classified, but John could tell when change was coming. And the guilty expression on Rodney’s face was telling all on its own.

[sherlockian-syn.livejournal.com]

Astro, any,

My birth I can hardly remember
But I remember from the start
My midwives looking at each other
"Wow, this boy is born with singing heart"
(Gogol Bordello)

Fill 1/2: MJ-centric, gen

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

Myungjun’s mother always said, “As soon as you could draw breath, you wailed at the top of your lungs, and as the nurse handed you to me, she said, He’s going to be a great singer.”

Myungjun’s older brother always said, “She meant he was going to be loud.”

Myungjun knew he was loud and a little rambunctious, but he was the maknae. It was hyung’s job to work hard in school and get a good job and be able to take care of their parents as they got older.

It was Myungjun’s job to cheer up his mother when she got sick again, to cuddle up beside her on her hospital bed and hum to her while she held him till she fell asleep. When she was asleep, she didn’t look like she was in constant pain.

*

Myungjun’s grandfather always said, “Myungjunnie, you have to sing the right music,” and then he’d turn on an old trot record and bounce Myungjun on his knee.

Myungjun learned to sing along to the songs even before he really understood what all the lyrics meant.

The first time he sang for his grandmother, she began to cry, and he faltered.

“I’m sorry, Grandma! I didn’t mean to sing so bad.”

But she gathered him into a hug and stroked his hair. “No, my darling, Junie, you sang so well. It was so beautiful I cried.”

*

Myungjun’s father said, “No. Absolutely not. You’ll stay in school and go to university and make a respectable career for yourself. Being a singer means starving.”

But Myungjun had seen the singers on television, and they wore fancy clothes and girls screamed their names and bought their albums, and they were rich. Myungjun wasn’t good at sitting still and studying like hyung was. He could be good at singing and dancing, right? He’d never be all sexy and ripped like Rain or the men in 2PM, but he could make it as a singer, couldn’t he?

“You heard your father,” his mother said, when he asked her about it later, quietly, in the kitchen. “You have to finish high school.”

So he did finish high school.

And then he started idol training.

*

“He was born to be a singer,” Manager said earnestly to a reporter. “His voice is honey-golden, and he has energy like sunshine. He’ll bring warmth and cheer to anyone who meets him.”

Myungjun, standing in line beside his teammates, had actually started crying onstage during their last performance. He’d kept on smiling, too, because their debut single was upbeat and cute, but he was exhausted. All of them were.

I’m not cut out for this, he thought. My parents were right. This isn’t a viable career. This brutal work schedule is designed to kill. I should retake the college entrance exam and go be something respectable. Like an architect.

But the reporter turned to him, and he put on a bright, earnest smile, and said, “I’ve always wanted to be a singer.”

That part was true. Wasn’t it?

Maybe not anymore.

*

[sherlockian-syn.livejournal.com]

Stargate Multiverse, any,

Ain't it great, how we met each other
On this wild and crazy carousel of life?
Ain't it cool, how it changed the paths of our lives
Set us off on new adventures?
(Kawamura Yumi and Shihoko Hirata)

[sherlockian-syn.livejournal.com]

BBC Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson,

You're right
There's nothing more lovely
There's nothing more profound
Than the certainty
That all of this will end
(OK Go)

[sherlockian-syn.livejournal.com]

Marvel Cinematic Universe, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange,

I know sometimes you think that I regret it
But I don't remember stumblin' when I said it
I told you that I'd be the one
I was talkin 'bout the life to come
(The Killers)

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard,

There are faces that come to me
In my darkest secret memories
Faces that I wish would not come back at all
(Johnny Cash)

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Check, Please!, Any, Old Church Basement (Elevation Worship & Maverick City Music)

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Any, any, Right Here Right Now (Jesus Jones)

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Marvel Cinematic Universe, Bucky Barnes +/ Any, I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For (U2)

[sherlockian-syn.livejournal.com]

Any, any,

I don't wanna live without you
I don't know how to
Without you, I am lost
Without you, I am not quite who I am
(Jon McLaughlin)

Fill 1/2: Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay + Chuck + Dave

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Follow up to yesterday's fill (https://comment-fic.livejournal.com/1211411.html?thread=118362131#t118362131). (Also, I'm hella tired so this might suck. LOL!)

Life in Atlantis could be surreal sometimes. It wasn’t just living in an alien city in a different galaxy, which was pretty crazy all on its own if someone wanted to stop and think about it.

Showing his brother around the city was surreal. Not turning-into-a-bug levels, but still. It was kind of cool, actually. Seeing all the familiar things through a fresh set of eyes.

“That’s amazing! It’s like Star Trek without the Christmas lights.”

John told him about the time Jinto mistook a transporter for a closet and ended up unleashing an energy monster. Rodney had been a hero that day, braver than John had expected given their short acquaintance at the time.

Every place John took Dave had a story about Rodney attached to it. Some funny, some poignant. All meaningful in different ways.

“He saved our lives so many times,” John said as they walked up the hall where Rodney used to challenge him to RC car races. “This whole expedition would’ve failed without him.”

“He sounds like a hero,” Dave replied without any irony.

John huffed out a laugh. “He’d love to hear you say that.”

The truth was, John didn’t know how to be himself without Rodney. They’d been perfectly matched, in some cosmic universal way that didn’t make much sense from the outside. Rodney’s quirks, which annoyed most people, just amused John. And Rodney never seemed to mind that John didn’t like to talk about himself, past or present. Hell, Rodney talked enough for the both of them.

Having Atlantis without Rodney was like some kind of cruel joke. And so John clung to the belief that Rodney would come back. He’d get tired of hanging with the asshole Ancients and he’s miss John, and they’d find him wandering the halls without clothes on a la Daniel Jackson.

What was the point of him having saved John’s life otherwise?

*o*o*o*

One month passed, then two. John heard less and less jokes about Rodney coming back, probably because the longer he was gone the more people assumed he’d stay that way.

There was always an empty chair at meals, an empty spot on movie nights. The team was benched because John couldn’t bear the thought of going offworld. At random times, he’d feel the phantom press of Rodney’s hand on his shoulder, pushing him out of the way of the alien IED that had taken his life.

Woolsey had strongly suggested John have some sessions with Dr. Ramesh.

And then the call came. Not from within the city, as John had imagined, but from the Alpha site.

Atlantis, we have a package to deliver. Please confirm.

“What’s the nature of the package?” Chuck asked.

It’s Big Blue.

Big Blue was the codename for scientists, so names weren’t broadcast over the radio channels. And there was only one scientist not accounted for on Atlantis.

John was right there waiting when Rodney was escorted through the event horizon, wide-eyed and wearing clothes that very clearly didn’t belong to him because they were so ill-fitting.

“Hey!” he said brightly when he saw John. “I know you!”

“Yeah. You do,” John replied wetly, pulling Rodney in for a tight hug.

Rodney took it in stride, patting John on the back and already firing off a million questions about where he was and what was happening. John took him to the infirmary, and Carson gave him a clean bill of health, promising the memory loss wasn’t permanent. Just a natural side effect of being tossed out of whatever ethereal plane the ascended Ancients floated around in.

“Do I live here?” Rodney asked when John took him back to their shared quarters. “Do I live here with you?”

“Is that okay?” John asked. He didn’t want to overwhelm Rodney on his first day back, but was also loathe to let him out of his sight.

“A hot guy like you? Of course it’s okay!”

It was funny, and yet somehow very Rodney. Still, John couldn’t wait until he was all the way back.

*o*o*o*

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Any, Any,

I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints
The sinners are much more fun
(Billy Joel)

[momma-66.livejournal.com]

Any, Any,

Circus life
Under the big top world
We all need the clowns
To make us smile (Journey)

[momma-66.livejournal.com]

Any, Any

Life is old there, older than the trees
Younger than the mountains, growin' like a breeze (John Denver)

Fill 1/2: Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard + Rodney McKay +Teyla Emmagan + Aiden Ford + OCs

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

“Well, I’m no anthropologist,” Rodney started to say.

“There’s a news flash,” Aiden interjected.

Rodney scowled at him. “As I was saying, I’m no anthropologist, but I’d say these people have been here since shortly after this planet developed a breathable atmosphere.”

The planet in question, PXX-99V, had been discovered recently in the Ancient database and flagged as a possible trading partner based on the scant information that had been added to the entry over ten thousand years ago. They hadn’t bothered to mention the day-long hike from the Gate to the nearest village, or the less-than-pleasant reception they received once they got there.

Currently, Rodney, John, Teyla, and Aiden were cooling their heels in what might’ve been a shed, the floor hard-packed dirt and the air stuffy because there was only one small window, and it didn’t open. John was standing next to it, keeping watch.

“Why do you think that?” Teyla asked. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, looking unperturbed like always.

“You just get a sense for these things,” Rodney replied.

He couldn’t really explain it. It was just a feeling. Everything along the trail to the village had seemed positively ancient, from the gnarly old-growth trees dripping with moss to the signs of early habitation that had been mostly retaken by vegetation. Even the people seemed settled in a way most Pegasus natives weren’t.

“Thank you for that illuminating insight, Darwin,” John said dryly. “Did you get any useful readings before they confiscated our gear?”

Rodney was so unappreciated in his own time.

“There’s almost a zero read on tech, Ancient or otherwise. No protective shield, no drones, not even an Ancient nightlight. Certainly no ZedPMs.”

“You should not be so focused on these ZPMs,” Teyla said. “There are more pressing things Atlantis needs. Reliable food sources and local medicines, to name only two.”

“Yes, but if we had a ZedPM –”

“Someone’s coming,” John said, cutting the discussion short.

Teyla got back to her feet in one graceful move and the four of them faced the door. John made sure Rodney stayed in the back, even though Rodney was more than capable of handling himself in a fight. Probably.

The shed door opened, revealing a man who might’ve been fifty years old or five hundred. He was lean, his deeply tanned skin lined and leathery either from sun exposure, age, or both. He had a shaggy head of dark hair shot through with gray.

“The Primus will see you now,” he said.

The team had been stripped of their weapons and their tac vests, but they hadn’t been met with any outright hostility. Even now, it was just one unarmed guy leading them through the village while the others who lived there watched solemnly from doorways and porches.

It was actually a little disconcerting.

“Anyone else getting a dueling banjos vibe?” Aiden asked, keeping his voice down.

“I do not know what that means,” Teyla replied.

“Trust me,” Rodney said. “You don’t want to know.”

Everyone watching them pass looked as wizened as the man they were following, which just added to his assertion that this place was old. The people looked like they’d been there longer than trees, some kind of prehistoric people that never died out or evolved.

“I’m no linguist,” Rodney said, “but did you notice the use of the word ‘primus’ just now? That’s Ancient.”

“A lot of things are Ancient, McKay,” John said.

The presumed home of the Primus, like all the others they’d seen, was made of wood that had gone gray with age and green with moss, the cracks between the boards filled with a bluish mud or clay. The roof was sod that had long ago overgrown so that vines and big orange flowers hung over the edge, some of the vines reaching all the way down to the ground.

“This is starting to feel like a Tolkien novel,” Rodney muttered.