multi-fandom drabbles
These were written for a challenge I posted on my personal journal. Each drabble is inspired by lyrics by Taiwanese musician Yen-J. The lyrics and song title can be found before each drabble.
the art of roleplay and the people it doesn't work on
b1a4, sunwoo/junghwan, g, 413w
It's about 1 in the morning; I'm at a famous nightclub in East District
And I see you on the dance floor doing your thing
Without a doubt, you're the most bright-eyed, hot babe in the crowd
A little drunk, but not enough to black out
From top to toe full of that trouble-causing flavor
But after getting drunk, my joking self was unexpectedly able to get your attention
-- "One Heart, Two Uses"
Sunwoo likes to pretend. He thinks it makes the world much more interesting when he ignores the boundaries of the real. Now if only Junghwan could do the same.
"Remember the plan?" Sunwoo asks with badly concealed excitement and agitation as the two of them step toward the grungy building. Clubs never look good on the outside.
Junghwan has his hands shoved in his sweatshirt pocket, yawning so loudly Sunwoo is surprised he even hears him. "Sure."
They part as soon as they enter, Sunwoo throwing on his shades and melting into the crowd. He checks out the scattering of tables, the DJ in the distance being the epitome of everything Sunwoo wishes he could be. He has stars in his eyes, listening to the fierce bass throbbing through the room. He hangs around the edge of the dance floor until he spies Junghwan finally take a seat at a small table near the bar. They agreed to meet at the bar, but whatever, Sunwoo's always up for a little improvisation.
Junghwan gives Sunwoo a dull look as he comes sidling over to the table, nodding to the beat. "Are you alone?" Sunwoo croons, giving Junghwan a look over his glasses which would have the fans screaming.
Junghwan blinks. "I'm here with you, idiot."
Not again, Sunwoo tells himself, he's not letting Junghwan ruin this again. "You're pretty cute to be sitting here all by your lonesome," he tries again, a bit of an edge to his voice. He leans against the table and winks.
There's a moment of silence, and then Junghwan sighs out loud. "Can't we just have a normal date?"
Sunwoo sinks into the seat opposite and groans.
"You're supposed to pretend you don't know me!" He can't keep the whine from his voice and he gives up on the sunglasses. They feel cheesy all of a sudden. "It's exciting!"
"Can we get something to drink?" his friend asks with another yawn. "I'm so excited I may pass out right here before you're done messing around if I don't get some caffeine."
A waitress happens by at that moment and Junghwan cheerily orders the two of them some sodas. He looks as happy as can be when they arrive. Sunwoo sullenly sips at his straw.
"Good music, huh?" Junghwan asks, chewing on some ice. "Wanna do that whole pretending thing again? I might remember this time."
Sunwoo just shakes his head, and tells himself to enjoy is one night out.
Let it go
u-kiss, soohyun/kiseob, 454w, g
Everyone's life has a period of time waiting for them
That's called a transition
I comfort myself
Everyone's life has a test waiting for them
That's called "don't give up"
I encourage myself
-- "Trapped in Taipei"
The list of things which bring Kiseob down is relatively short, unsurprisingly. Over time, a few random things have come and gone from the list, but one entry remains permanent: himself. Nothing upsets him more than his own physical, emotional and mental self. Nothing makes him more disappointed.
He doesn't mean to do it, but he envies Hoonmin from the moment they meet. He admires his blindly optimistic attitude, his voice, which is good enough to merit more than a single line in a song, how he can keep up with Soohyun in the gym with little effort.
Maybe that's really it. In every way, Hoonmin is closer to Soohyun's level. He has the kind of personality which draws Soohyun to him, needing the acceptance and support which Soohyun is always so eager to give. Kiseob is long past the point when he needed that support, but, watching the two of them, he misses feeling lost, having that mysterious dependent power which Soohyun finds irresistible. He wishes he could sing, really sing, but all he can do is watch them from afar. He practices his piano, but Hoonmin is already better.
Soohyun is his best friend, but that might not be enough. Innocent thoughts of playing and harmless cuddling are now the last on Soohyun's mind, and Kiseob only blames himself. He lets himself drift to Kevin, the two of them filling voids they're not fit for, but it works in a way. It works when he doesn't allow himself to dwell on Hoonmin's arms, which seem to always be reaching for something Kiseob wants, but doesn't deserve. Focus eludes him and very soon Kiseob is sure he'll be swallowed up by his own insecurities.
"Kiseob?" Soohyun stares at him in the dim light of the practice room. Kiseob blinks back, fingers still tracing over the warm keys of the keyboard. "It's really late, shouldn't you head home?"
"Just practicing," he says, smiling despite the butterflies in his otherwise empty stomach.
Soohyun stretches absentmindedly, nodding toward the window. The sky is dark, the first stars starting to appear. "I'd say you've done enough, huh?"
An ironic statement coming from the man who won't stop singing even if it causes him so much pain he cries after every performance. Kiseob's secret smile grows, but he nods. His body feels heavy as he crosses the practice room with a loud yawn.
A hand extends toward him. Soohyun grins without a clue as Kiseob stares for a long moment at that hand, all the meaning and subtext which shouldn't exist and yet does in Kiseob's mind. Taking a deep breath, Kiseob latches onto it and lets himself forget, for the moment, all the reasons he's so unworthy.
it's called a transition
secret, sunhwa/hyosung, pg, 310w
Everyone's life has a period of time waiting for them
That's called a transition
I comfort myself
Everyone's life has a test waiting for them
That's called "don't give up"
I encourage myself
-- "Trapped in Taipei"
Sunhwa isn't sure she can get through another night, not like this. Her skin is chilled to the touch, but the goosebumps don't rise. No matter how much she rubs her hands together, rubs them against her arms, nothing warms. There is no heat to be found within her.
"You'll get used to it soon," a soft voice says in her ear. Cold, pale arms wrap around Sunhwa's naked shoulders and squeeze her tight. "Eventually the you adjust to being so cold." Hyosung kisses Sunhwa's cheek, and her lips are icy. Sunhwa leans back into Hyosung's embrace and frowns all the more. Silvery hair appears to glow in the pale light of the street lamp nearby and tumbles into Sunhwa's face as Hyosung folds her chin neatly against the shoulders she holds.
Sitting perfectly still, Sunhwa runs a hand through Hyosung's long, silky hair. Out of habit, she takes a deep breath and watches the exhale condense before her eyes. Hyosung looks up with mild curiosity.
"That'll stop soon, too." She giggles again. "Unless you really want to keep doing it."
Sunhwa pauses and considers the option. Why breathe when you don't need to? Why seek warmth when she's perfectly comfortable without?
"I don't know," she sighs out loud. The bells weaved through Hyosung's hair jingle as she straightens up and stretches her long, flawless white arms to the dark sky. The sound is otherworldly in the otherwise silent night.
Hyosung links her fingers with Sunhwa's, pulling her gently away from the light. The city beyond their rooftop dazzles Sunhwa's eyes, but it's the countless patches of darkness she focuses on. She already knows it's time when Hyosung leans in and whispers, with a little nip at Sunhwa's ear, "Time to hunt."
Better suck it up, she tells herself, because there's no way she's dying yet. Not for real, anyway.
* I was completely stuck on this one until Halloween happened, so Happy Halloween~ :)
the music
dalmatian, ot6, g, 429w
Being "popular" means sounding good
It has nothing to do with the song's difficulty
Being "popular" means being listenable
It has nothing to do with the song's difficulty
-- "Lifesaver"
Daniel is soft r&b, bluesy and calm. As goofy as he can be, he prefers to go with the flow and enjoy what comes to him. He hums to himself wherever he goes, naps in the strangest places and positions, and it's never easy to tell just what he's thinking.
Dari is the exact opposite, hip-hop and tough rap, hard where Daniel is soft and always on the move. He bops and he jerks as he walks, grinning his grin and sliding his cap to the side and to the back. He laughs how he wants, says what he wants, and makes sure nothing is a mystery. What you see is what you get, take it or leave it.
David is somewhere in between, enough hip-hop to do what he does and enough r&b to do it as well as he does. He has his moments, fighting with Dari, pulling his pranks, shouting at the top of his lungs at four in the morning to wake up the younger members. But there are times he gets real quiet, his mind somewhere else, far away in a place no one else has access to.
Jisu exists in his own little happy world, like jazz. He can makes sense when he wants, but he far prefers the inscrutable. Jisu exceeds all expectations, from the incredible heights he can reach vocally and the incredible heights he can reach all on his own, just skipping up and down the stairs. The second you know which way he's going, he switches it up and sends everyone around him stumbling for an answer to why.
And then there's Donglim, a little ball of explosive pop tunes and constant movement. He smiles like there's nothing beneath, nothing else that matters, masking all negativity with his sugary sweet face. He can change second to second, fitting any situation and any mood. He's easily written off and yet impossible to forget.
But Intae isn't sure how he fits in, or how to negotiate the constant clashes of rhythm. He once thought he was more rap than anything, but finds himself too tired nowadays to resist, to hold his own. He isn't tough enough. But he isn't changeable enough or kind enough to be like pop or jazz, so easily adaptable when needed, and there's too much responsibility to let r&b take over. He sits in the middle and lets the music flow into him, mix himself all up, and lets it flow right back out. He lets the strange, incoherent rhythms they create together control him.
It hurts sometimes, and it's exhausting, but it always works.
the art of roleplay and the people it doesn't work on
b1a4, sunwoo/junghwan, g, 413w
It's about 1 in the morning; I'm at a famous nightclub in East District
And I see you on the dance floor doing your thing
Without a doubt, you're the most bright-eyed, hot babe in the crowd
A little drunk, but not enough to black out
From top to toe full of that trouble-causing flavor
But after getting drunk, my joking self was unexpectedly able to get your attention
-- "One Heart, Two Uses"
Sunwoo likes to pretend. He thinks it makes the world much more interesting when he ignores the boundaries of the real. Now if only Junghwan could do the same.
"Remember the plan?" Sunwoo asks with badly concealed excitement and agitation as the two of them step toward the grungy building. Clubs never look good on the outside.
Junghwan has his hands shoved in his sweatshirt pocket, yawning so loudly Sunwoo is surprised he even hears him. "Sure."
They part as soon as they enter, Sunwoo throwing on his shades and melting into the crowd. He checks out the scattering of tables, the DJ in the distance being the epitome of everything Sunwoo wishes he could be. He has stars in his eyes, listening to the fierce bass throbbing through the room. He hangs around the edge of the dance floor until he spies Junghwan finally take a seat at a small table near the bar. They agreed to meet at the bar, but whatever, Sunwoo's always up for a little improvisation.
Junghwan gives Sunwoo a dull look as he comes sidling over to the table, nodding to the beat. "Are you alone?" Sunwoo croons, giving Junghwan a look over his glasses which would have the fans screaming.
Junghwan blinks. "I'm here with you, idiot."
Not again, Sunwoo tells himself, he's not letting Junghwan ruin this again. "You're pretty cute to be sitting here all by your lonesome," he tries again, a bit of an edge to his voice. He leans against the table and winks.
There's a moment of silence, and then Junghwan sighs out loud. "Can't we just have a normal date?"
Sunwoo sinks into the seat opposite and groans.
"You're supposed to pretend you don't know me!" He can't keep the whine from his voice and he gives up on the sunglasses. They feel cheesy all of a sudden. "It's exciting!"
"Can we get something to drink?" his friend asks with another yawn. "I'm so excited I may pass out right here before you're done messing around if I don't get some caffeine."
A waitress happens by at that moment and Junghwan cheerily orders the two of them some sodas. He looks as happy as can be when they arrive. Sunwoo sullenly sips at his straw.
"Good music, huh?" Junghwan asks, chewing on some ice. "Wanna do that whole pretending thing again? I might remember this time."
Sunwoo just shakes his head, and tells himself to enjoy is one night out.
Let it go
u-kiss, soohyun/kiseob, 454w, g
Everyone's life has a period of time waiting for them
That's called a transition
I comfort myself
Everyone's life has a test waiting for them
That's called "don't give up"
I encourage myself
-- "Trapped in Taipei"
The list of things which bring Kiseob down is relatively short, unsurprisingly. Over time, a few random things have come and gone from the list, but one entry remains permanent: himself. Nothing upsets him more than his own physical, emotional and mental self. Nothing makes him more disappointed.
He doesn't mean to do it, but he envies Hoonmin from the moment they meet. He admires his blindly optimistic attitude, his voice, which is good enough to merit more than a single line in a song, how he can keep up with Soohyun in the gym with little effort.
Maybe that's really it. In every way, Hoonmin is closer to Soohyun's level. He has the kind of personality which draws Soohyun to him, needing the acceptance and support which Soohyun is always so eager to give. Kiseob is long past the point when he needed that support, but, watching the two of them, he misses feeling lost, having that mysterious dependent power which Soohyun finds irresistible. He wishes he could sing, really sing, but all he can do is watch them from afar. He practices his piano, but Hoonmin is already better.
Soohyun is his best friend, but that might not be enough. Innocent thoughts of playing and harmless cuddling are now the last on Soohyun's mind, and Kiseob only blames himself. He lets himself drift to Kevin, the two of them filling voids they're not fit for, but it works in a way. It works when he doesn't allow himself to dwell on Hoonmin's arms, which seem to always be reaching for something Kiseob wants, but doesn't deserve. Focus eludes him and very soon Kiseob is sure he'll be swallowed up by his own insecurities.
"Kiseob?" Soohyun stares at him in the dim light of the practice room. Kiseob blinks back, fingers still tracing over the warm keys of the keyboard. "It's really late, shouldn't you head home?"
"Just practicing," he says, smiling despite the butterflies in his otherwise empty stomach.
Soohyun stretches absentmindedly, nodding toward the window. The sky is dark, the first stars starting to appear. "I'd say you've done enough, huh?"
An ironic statement coming from the man who won't stop singing even if it causes him so much pain he cries after every performance. Kiseob's secret smile grows, but he nods. His body feels heavy as he crosses the practice room with a loud yawn.
A hand extends toward him. Soohyun grins without a clue as Kiseob stares for a long moment at that hand, all the meaning and subtext which shouldn't exist and yet does in Kiseob's mind. Taking a deep breath, Kiseob latches onto it and lets himself forget, for the moment, all the reasons he's so unworthy.
it's called a transition
secret, sunhwa/hyosung, pg, 310w
Everyone's life has a period of time waiting for them
That's called a transition
I comfort myself
Everyone's life has a test waiting for them
That's called "don't give up"
I encourage myself
-- "Trapped in Taipei"
Sunhwa isn't sure she can get through another night, not like this. Her skin is chilled to the touch, but the goosebumps don't rise. No matter how much she rubs her hands together, rubs them against her arms, nothing warms. There is no heat to be found within her.
"You'll get used to it soon," a soft voice says in her ear. Cold, pale arms wrap around Sunhwa's naked shoulders and squeeze her tight. "Eventually the you adjust to being so cold." Hyosung kisses Sunhwa's cheek, and her lips are icy. Sunhwa leans back into Hyosung's embrace and frowns all the more. Silvery hair appears to glow in the pale light of the street lamp nearby and tumbles into Sunhwa's face as Hyosung folds her chin neatly against the shoulders she holds.
Sitting perfectly still, Sunhwa runs a hand through Hyosung's long, silky hair. Out of habit, she takes a deep breath and watches the exhale condense before her eyes. Hyosung looks up with mild curiosity.
"That'll stop soon, too." She giggles again. "Unless you really want to keep doing it."
Sunhwa pauses and considers the option. Why breathe when you don't need to? Why seek warmth when she's perfectly comfortable without?
"I don't know," she sighs out loud. The bells weaved through Hyosung's hair jingle as she straightens up and stretches her long, flawless white arms to the dark sky. The sound is otherworldly in the otherwise silent night.
Hyosung links her fingers with Sunhwa's, pulling her gently away from the light. The city beyond their rooftop dazzles Sunhwa's eyes, but it's the countless patches of darkness she focuses on. She already knows it's time when Hyosung leans in and whispers, with a little nip at Sunhwa's ear, "Time to hunt."
Better suck it up, she tells herself, because there's no way she's dying yet. Not for real, anyway.
* I was completely stuck on this one until Halloween happened, so Happy Halloween~ :)
the music
dalmatian, ot6, g, 429w
Being "popular" means sounding good
It has nothing to do with the song's difficulty
Being "popular" means being listenable
It has nothing to do with the song's difficulty
-- "Lifesaver"
Daniel is soft r&b, bluesy and calm. As goofy as he can be, he prefers to go with the flow and enjoy what comes to him. He hums to himself wherever he goes, naps in the strangest places and positions, and it's never easy to tell just what he's thinking.
Dari is the exact opposite, hip-hop and tough rap, hard where Daniel is soft and always on the move. He bops and he jerks as he walks, grinning his grin and sliding his cap to the side and to the back. He laughs how he wants, says what he wants, and makes sure nothing is a mystery. What you see is what you get, take it or leave it.
David is somewhere in between, enough hip-hop to do what he does and enough r&b to do it as well as he does. He has his moments, fighting with Dari, pulling his pranks, shouting at the top of his lungs at four in the morning to wake up the younger members. But there are times he gets real quiet, his mind somewhere else, far away in a place no one else has access to.
Jisu exists in his own little happy world, like jazz. He can makes sense when he wants, but he far prefers the inscrutable. Jisu exceeds all expectations, from the incredible heights he can reach vocally and the incredible heights he can reach all on his own, just skipping up and down the stairs. The second you know which way he's going, he switches it up and sends everyone around him stumbling for an answer to why.
And then there's Donglim, a little ball of explosive pop tunes and constant movement. He smiles like there's nothing beneath, nothing else that matters, masking all negativity with his sugary sweet face. He can change second to second, fitting any situation and any mood. He's easily written off and yet impossible to forget.
But Intae isn't sure how he fits in, or how to negotiate the constant clashes of rhythm. He once thought he was more rap than anything, but finds himself too tired nowadays to resist, to hold his own. He isn't tough enough. But he isn't changeable enough or kind enough to be like pop or jazz, so easily adaptable when needed, and there's too much responsibility to let r&b take over. He sits in the middle and lets the music flow into him, mix himself all up, and lets it flow right back out. He lets the strange, incoherent rhythms they create together control him.
It hurts sometimes, and it's exhausting, but it always works.