Thursday: 100 Words on Weather

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Hi! I’m brumeier, and this week we’re filling some of my favorite prompt themes, using 100 words or any multiple of 100. Today’s theme is Weather. Rain, snow, flood, blizzard…any weather conditions are fair game, as are occupations (and anything else) impacted by or directly involving the weather.

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 Atlantis, Any, weather-related health issues

+ K-pop or K-drama, any ensemble, snowed in at the airport

+ Marvel Cinematic Universe, any, stopping someone who’s created a machine to control the weather

+ Sherlock, John Watson +/ Gregory Lastrade, local weatherman

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=100 words/weather

Comments

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, Any, weather-related health issues

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

K-pop or K-drama, any ensemble, snowed in at the airport

Fill 1600 1/2: Astro + SGA, Eunwoo + John, gen

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

A blizzard in March wasn’t unheard of, but it was unusual. Still, John was pretty peeved that his annual Earthside leave was being busted up by a blizzard, so he was stuck in the airport in DC and had to bunk on the floor. Granted, bunking on the floor in an airport was much more comfortable than bunking in a tent offworld, because he had access to running water and actual toilets — and also he didn’t have Rodney complaining half the time — but also he wanted to get back to Virginia to see Dave and his family. He’d finally made up with his family, and he’d survived hellish briefings at the Pentagon, and he’d earned these two months of leave.

And now this.

John hitched his pack higher on his shoulder and tried to decide whether he wanted to stay near his gate or find a more comfortable place to sleep, somewhere darker and quieter, and then he spotted five boys asleep on the floor, lying neatly in a row, seemingly without a care in the world, as if they slept on the floor all the time.
Maybe they did?

Only a sixth boy was sitting up against a pillar beside them, knees drawn up to his chest, shivering and watching them. His phone was plugged into the wall, the glow lighting up his very symmetrical features.

They looked East Asian, maybe, and a whole bunch of other people of similar ethnicity — men, women — were crowded uncomfortably on the chairs near them. Some kind of school tour, maybe? Only several of the boys had their hair bleached pale colors, which was definitely not school regulation.

John padded over to the boy, who looked like an older teen, and opened his pack, drew out a little space blanket. “Hey, you look cold. This’ll keep you warm.”

The boy looked up. “Ah, hello.” He reached up and accepted the blanket with one hand, though he braced his arm with his other hand. “Thank you very much.”

John knew that kind of formal body language from when he’d had a very brief stint at OSAN AFB. The boy was Korean. “You and your friends are all stuck here too, huh?”

The boy nodded. “Yes, our flight is delayed because of the storm.” He spoke English well, though with an accent.

“I’m John Sheppard.”

“Cha Eunwoo. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Eunwoo-ssi,” John said, because he could remember his manners well enough.

Eunwoo’s face lit up. “Ah, you know some Korean?”

“I was stationed in South Korea for a hot second,” John said. “What brings you to DC?”

“I am a singer, and I am on tour with my team,” Eunwoo said, pointing to the others who were sleeping.

John sat down beside Eunwoo, because looming over him seemed rude. “Nice. What kind of music?”

“Ah, K-pop,” Eunwoo said. “Our team is Astro. Have you heard of us?”

John wracked his brains. He knew plenty of the scientists were into K-pop, and there was plenty of it on the radio, but he didn’t know any of the band names. “I’ve heard K-pop before, but I don’t know any band names. I’m more of a Johnny Cash kind of guy.”

Eunwoo nodded. “Johnny Cash is a legend.” He unfolded the blanket as quietly as possible and snuggled beneath it, still shivering a little.

John eyed Eunwoo. “How does one become a K-pop singer, anyway?”

“When I was in high school, my physics teacher recommended it to me,” Eunwoo said.

“That’s one I’ve never heard before,” John admitted. “Your physics teacher?”

“Ah, yes. A casting agent from an entertainment company invited me to audition, but it was during my physics class and I didn’t think it was right to miss school, but my physics teacher said I should try it,” Eunwoo said.

“And...what, you went, you sang, you became a star?” John eyed him. By Korean standards he was probably exceptionally handsome, so it was easy to see why he’d have been chosen to become a star if he could sing well.

Eunwoo laughed and shook his head. “No, I auditioned, and I passed, and then I trained for three years. Before I auditioned I could play the piano and guitar and violin and flute, but I wasn’t a very good singer or dancer, and trainers yelled at me every day and made me cry.

“You trained?” John echoed. “What was this, pop star boot camp?”

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Marvel Cinematic Universe, any, stopping someone who’s created a machine to control the weather

Fill (x3) - Steve Rogers & Tony Stark

[templefugate.livejournal.com]

"Imagine a world with no hurricanes."

Steve blinked, rubbing at the side of his head. A dull ringing still echoed in his left ear from the earlier chain of explosions, the one that had destroyed seemingly everything except what had flooded the Bronx and sent a heat wave through Queens. The earnest look on Tony's sweat-stained face told Steve that he hadn't heard him wrong.

The metal box was small enough to fit into a person's pocket. Other than a red light that blinked on and off every fifteen seconds or so, it was utterly forgettable, its dull grey surface almost blending in with the compound's walls. Pandora herself wouldn't have given it a second glance.

"You think the Californians wouldn't like some rain? Imagine no more snow storms in-"

"Stop." Steve tightened his grip on his shield. Tony was starting to sound as ludicrous as the guy who built this contraption. "It's caused enough trouble already."

He looked between his teammates. Some kept their expression steely and shoulders tightened. Others were wavering, unable to keep his gaze. Could they really believe the nonsense that Stark was spouting?

Maybe they didn't, he remnded himself. Tony was just the kind of person that you wanted to believe. But his own inventions had caused more trouble than either cared to remember. It took no stretch of the imagination to hypothesize what hell this could raise.

And hell, Steve knew, could actually be quite cold. Why risk turning the entire upper United States into a glorified snow globe?

Tony's gaze narrowed. "If you would just listen to me-"

"Listen to yourself! Do you honestly believe anything that you're saying?

He couldn't, could he? Surely with all those degrees, Tony had to have a brain.

Steve would just have to make him use it.

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Sherlock, John Watson +/ Gregory Lastrade, local weatherman

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Prodigal Son, Any, trapped in an elevator when a storm knocks out the power

[ami-ven.livejournal.com]

X-Men, Ororo Munroe, the heart of a thunderstorm

[ami-ven.livejournal.com]

Any, any/any, bundling up to go out in the cold

Fill: Trixie Belden Mysteries/The Three Investigators, Trixie Belden/Jupiter Jones (600)

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

“You want to go out in this?” Jupiter asked incredulously. “Are you serious?”

Trixie handed him her father’s spare coat, a heavy blue plaid with sherpa lining. “It’s just a little snow.”

A little snow. By Jupiter’s estimations, given current conditions and updates through the Weather Channel app on his phone, there was just over fourteen inches of the white stuff already on the ground, and more steadily falling from the leaden sky. That was more snow than he’d seen in his lifetime.

Traveling out to New York to meet Trixie’s family had seemed like a good idea at the time. Dealing with what they called a Nor’easter hadn’t factored into his plans at all. The rental car was quickly getting buried, and Jupiter hadn’t seen a plow go by in at least a half hour.

“Come on, California boy,” Trixie said with a grin. She tossed the jacket at him. “You’ll be fine, I promise. No frostbite on my watch.”

She sat on the bench by the back door, lacing up her boots. Jupiter sighed, but dutifully put on coat. He already had long johns under his jeans, because none of the Beldens had snow pants that would fit him. He started to button up the coat, but Trixie stopped him.

“Wait. You need this first.”

She pulled a bright orange scarf out of the round basket of winter weather accessories next to the bench and wrapped it snugly around his throat. To that she added a hand-knit green cap, earmuffs, and black gloves.

“I don’t think it takes astronauts this long to suit up for space walks,” Jupiter grumbled.

Trixie’s brother Mart had the only boots big enough to fit Jupiter, and they were a little snug when paired with thick wool socks.

“You’re not used to winter weather,” Trixie said. “We need to protect that delicate SoCal skin.”

She was only wearing a coat that looked much too thin, a hat, and a pair of mittens.

“Why don’t you have a snowblower? I thought all New Yorkers had them.”

“Don’t need one if you’ve got a good shovel and some elbow grease. We’re only shoveling a path out to the road, and digging out the mailbox. It won’t take long.”

Jupiter thought despairingly of the long driveway out to the road.

“You look cute all bundled up.” Trixie got up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. “You know, there’s a whole other way to bundle. It used to be really popular when my great-grandma was a young girl.”

All the layers were starting to get hot, so Jupiter opened the back door and stepped outside, tugging Trixie along with him. The overhang was ringed with icicles, but the cool air felt good. Jupiter knew that wouldn’t last.

“They called it bundling,” Trixie continued. “A man and a woman would wrap up in separate blankets and spend the night together, just talking.”

“Can we do that instead?” Jupiter asked hopefully. “That sounds much better than shifting all this snow. While it’s still snowing.”

“Well, as fun as that sounds, the whole point was to discourage hanky panky. And I’m not above a little hanky panky.” Trixie winked at him, and Jupiter felt a flush of heat that had nothing to do with all the winter clothes he was wearing.

“Then we’d better expedite this snow removal.”

Jupiter pulled Trixie close for another kiss, and it was like something out of a Christmas romcom. Just the two of them, the falling snow muffling any other noises.

Maybe there was something to be said for winter after all.

[darkmoore.livejournal.com]

9-1-1 Lone Star, TK Strand/Carlos Reyes, the humid heat of Texas sometimes makes TK miss New York

[darkmoore.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, Rodney McKay/John Sheppard, Ice skating off world

[darkmoore.livejournal.com]

Hawaii Five-0, Danny Williams/Steve McGarrett, getting caught in the rain

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley, Crowley's corporation *hurts* when it rains/drizzles/snows/precipitates. Aziraphale doesn't realise how bad it is for Crowley until post-nonpocalypse.

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Any (please no SPN), any +/ any, tornado chaser AU

Fill 1/2: Hawaii Five-0, Steve McGarrett/Danny Williams + Chin + Kono (1000)

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Massive rotation!

We have debris!

Danny had a death grip on the oh-shit handle with one hand and the console with the other, eyes wide as he tried to see through the thick streams of water on the windshield to the tornado that was lurking within the deluge.

“Can you even see where you’re going?” he shouted over the noise of the storm.

“You really want to know?” Steve shouted back.

Clearly Danny had made a huge mistake. He thought they’d drive around, maybe see a tornado off in the distance kicking up dust. And if they didn’t, well, he’d still get some immersion in the new area he’d had to move to when Rachel and Stan uprooted Grace so Stan could build a new hotel in the middle of Tornado Alley.

Seemed like a risky venture to Danny, but then he didn’t get a say.

Boss? We going after this one?

Steve reached for the CB radio without taking his eyes off the road. Assuming he could even see it.

“Hang back and monitor, Kono. It’s pretty gnarly in here. I’m going to try and find a gap.”

“Shouldn’t we just turn back?” Danny asked. “You’re the insane adrenalin junkie here, not me.”

“Turning back isn’t part of the job,” Steve said.

Danny stared at him, though it was somehow scarier taking his eyes off the road than trying to figure out if they were even in their own lane.

“The job? I paid you to show me around, teach me about tornadoes. That’s the job! And I’m officially declaring quitting time!”

“Five-0 Chasers doesn’t quit. Hang on.”

That was the only warning Danny got before the truck started sliding sideways.

“Holy shit! Are you trying to kill us?”

“Opposite of that,” Steve said grimly.

The truck did a three-sixty and Steve floored it, tires spinning on the wet asphalt before they caught and the truck lurched forward. Within five minutes they were out of the downpour and into relatively calmer weather.

Steve pulled over on the shoulder and snatched up the radio.

“Kono! Chin! Are you monitoring?”

Copy that, Chin replied. We’re getting some good readings, but there’s no clear visual.

“We’re on the wrong side of it. Nothing but rain here.”

Danny snatched the radio out of Steve’s hand. “Are you kidding me right now? I want to go back to the hotel!”

Steve gave him a constipated look, and Danny wondered how he’d ever found the man attractive when he was clearly a nutjob.

“You signed the contract,” Steve said. “Didn’t you read it?”

“Yes! No. I skimmed it.”

“Then you skimmed over the part where your presence on a storm chase doesn’t interfere with the actual job of tracking and monitoring tornadoes.”

Danny didn’t grind his teeth, but it was a close thing. “I’m not asking for a refund. Just a ride back to the hotel.”

“Then call an uber. I’m working.”

“Just catch the next one! This is Tornado-fucking-Alley! They’re probably more regular than the buses!”

Steve glowered at him. “And until we can get a better understanding of the make-up of a tornado and the conditions that create one, those tornadoes are going to cut through towns and farms and people’s lives.”

The tone of his voice, and the glint of something in his eye that spoke of to a wealth of emotion, caught Danny up short. He had the sense that maybe Steve was speaking from personal experience. Had he lost his house? A friend or a loved one? Was he chasing tornadoes or his own personal demons?

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Dragon Age, Lace Harding (+/ any), for someone who grew up in the temperate Hinterlands she's seen ALL the climates and every kind of weather imaginable

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

The Good Place, author's choice, getting to experience their favourite weather in The Good Place

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Any (please no SPN), any +/ any, huddling together for warmth in the snow

Fill, MCU, Pepper/Tony

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

"It's really cold out here." Tony said it as if no one else had any clue what was happening. "In fact, it's so cold, my ba - "

"Language!" Pepper interjected the word, bumping Tony in the ribs with her elbow for emphasis.

"But."

Pepper readied her elbow again. Tony eyed her, obviously deciding it wasn't quite worth the risk. He cleared his throat. "I think my extremities are freezing off. The ones you enjoy."

"I know which ones you're talking about, you big baby." Still, Pepper threw part of her wool blanket around Tony and snuggled closer.

He sighed. "That's better." A beat. "But next time Morgan wants to take up a hobby, can it be something inside where it's warm? Not something like hockey?"

[momma-66.livejournal.com]

Any, Any, it's snowing, it's dark, and the car stopped running on a deserted back road

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

Astro, Park Minhyuk|Rocky +/ any, Sweater Weather (The Neighborhood)

Fill 500: + MJ

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

To say that Myungjun is mildly obsessed with Minhyuk’s black turtleneck sweater is an understatement.

“I didn’t post pictures on SNS because I was afraid in all black I’d look too skinny, like a pencil,” Minhyuk says in a video clip, and laughs.

The truth of it is, most of what the fans see is a lie. Their clothes are picked by stylists, and then their faces are done up with makeup and their hair is carefully styled. What the six of them look like on a normal day, left to their own devices, is boring and plain.

Well, there’s a reason they don’t get recognized when they’re out on the street, Dongmin aside.

Because they’re nothing special.

And half the time, the way they look when they’re made up for the stage, it seems silly. Sure, they look cool, and they feel cool, because they have to get out on stage and perform and sell it. But Myungjun knows he’s not alone among his teammates in looking back on some of their stage costumes and wishing he could erase them from the internet.

That black turtleneck on Minhyuk, though, makes him look sleek and sexy in a way Myungjun has never thought of Minhyuk before. What’s so different about Minhyuk now? He came of age two years ago.

But these days he smiles more, is more open and charming.

More confident.

Myungjun is glad they’re performing in sweater weather, because otherwise Minhyuk never would have worn that turtleneck.

Or maybe Myungjun isn’t glad, because he wasn’t the only one who noticed how good Minhyuk looked, and the next day there are articles about it everywhere, and with the articles are pictures, and wow.

Myungjun is on the couch staring at a particularly excellent photo of Minhyuk that a reporter managed to capture and debating the ethics of downloading it to his phone when the bedroom door opens and Minhyuk shuffles out, tucked into a hoodie, still wearing comfy flannel pajama pants.

Minhyuk plops down onto the couch and curls against Myungjun, sleep-warm and content.

Trusting.

“Haengnim,” he murmurs, his southern accent thick with drowsiness. “Why are you awake so early?”

Myungjun can’t say it’s because he couldn’t sleep, chased awake with visions of Minhyuk in that sweater, dancing and smiling and looking too damn good.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Myungjun says finally.

Minhyuk makes a small noise and curls closer to Myungjun. “I’ll keep you warm. It’s sweater season. Haengnim should wear a sweater.”

Myungjun says, “I’ll just borrow your sweater.”

Minhyuk nods and drags Myungjun’s hands under his hoodie for warmth without a second thought, and then he falls back to sleep, leaning against Myungjun.

Myungjun looks down at him, heart fluttering, and thinks he’s probably going to hell for this, but he presses a brief kiss to Minhyuk’s hair, and then he closes his eyes and curls against Minhyuk, and finally he falls asleep too.

Later, he’ll put on a sweater of his own. For now, this is perfect.

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

The Untamed/MDZS, Lan Wangji/Wei Wuxian, When the cold wind blows / I suddenly see you, who used to be mine (When the wind blows — Astro)

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

MI-5|Spooks, Lucas North, Snowball fight

Fill:

[thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com]

Adam listened indulgently to Lucas’ shouts coming from the back garden, where he and Wes were enjoying a snowball fight. Sometimes it felt like he had two young teenagers in the house, instead of just one, but with Lucas so happy, he wasn’t going to complain. Just insist his lover took responsibility for drying all the wet clothing off.

He opened the door and took a couple of steps outside, ready to tell them food was ready. At which point he was hit by a barrage of snowballs. He groaned. Clearly, Lucas and Wes had ganged up on him again.

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

BBC Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes, “And now, the weather.”

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

BBC Merlin, Merlin, [He] acts like summer and walks like rain (Drops of Jupiter — Train)

[cozy-coffee.livejournal.com]

any, any, cuddling by the fire on a icy winter day

Fill: Good Omens, Aziraphale & Crowley platonic cuddling

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

"Dear? You look cold. Are you sure you don't want me to light a fire?" Aziraphale asked, pretending he couldn't hear Crowley's teeth chattering.

"NO FIRE!" Crowley snapped, then gave a full-body-shudder. "Why mussst it be ssso bloody cold?"

"You said it in Wessex, dear. The damp air makes the cold feel colder," Aziraphale answered, opening his arms inviting the chilled demon to share his warmth. He brightened as an idea occurred to him.

"I could ward the fireplace, prevent to much as a single stray spark to escape, but it will heat the room nicely, if that would be acceptable. Or would you prefer to freeze to discorporation and warm up in Hell?"

"Bastard," Crowley grumbled fondly, settling into the angel's arms. It was that four-letter-word beginning with N that he didn't much like, but the room was still too cold for his serpent self. He hesitated, then, reluctantly muttered, "'f there's no chance of anything burning down..."

"Dear, you know I am a Principality, a being of protection. MY wards are so good even the Archangels cannot undo them. It's why I was set to guard Eden. Not that I intend to boast, it is simply a fact of my existence."

"Boast? You? Pride? You? Never," Crowley teased, and moved aside to let Aziraphale up.

The demon watched the angel write several sigils around the hearth and grate with his finger, the glow of his angelic power lighting the room briefly, before laying the peat briquette and coal in the grate.

"Would you like to do the honours or shall I?" Aziraphale asked.

Crowley snapped his fingers and the fire lit, the warmth gradually filling the room, as Aziraphale settled back on his seat and drew Crowley up to sit across his lap and share his warmth. Crowley remained tense, golden eyes on the fireplace until he saw a small spark bounce off the ward Aziraphale had placed.

"Dear, you never told me about what you saw in the bookshop when you... took the Nice and Accurate Prophecies, while I was discorporated. Would you like to talk about it now?" Aziraphale asked gently.

"Mmnnah, not now. Sometime it's warm but there's no fire in the hearth," Crowley declined, snuggling even closer, head resting on Aziraphale's chest and arms tightening around the angel's waist.

"Of course, dear."

[cozy-coffee.livejournal.com]

any, any, autumn brings hopeful dreams

[cozy-coffee.livejournal.com]

Any, any & Any, a hot cup of coffee on a cold day

[cozy-coffee.livejournal.com]

Any, any daemon, playing in the snow