Wednesday - And the Weatherman says....

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Good morning and happy Wednesday! I'm evil_little_dog and today's prompt is 'Weather'. Each prompt should have something to do with atmospheric conditions in some way or another.

The rules still haven't changed:
No more than five prompts in a row.
No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
No spoilers in prompts.
If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space.

Prompts should be formatted as follows:
Fandom, Character+/Character, Prompt

Some examples for you!

Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward+/Winry+Alphonse+Pinako, Spring showers bring floods rather than flowers.
Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward/Winry, She's not dressed for the cold weather of Briggs.
Archie Comics, Betty+Veronica+any of the guys, Bikini weather
MCU(X-Men) Logan+/Rogue, He likes the snow, she prefers the heat
In Plain Sight, Marshall+/Mary, "Weather thou goest." "Don't you mean 'whither', doofus?"

Not feeling any of today’s prompts? Visit the lonely prompt archive and brighten someone’s day. For more recent prompts to write, you can also use LJ’s advanced search options to limit keyword results to only comments in this community.

tag=Weather

Comments

[hpfangirl71.livejournal.com]

Harry Potter, Harry/Draco, A Kiss in the rain.

[sksdwrld.livejournal.com]

Appropriately, it was raining on the day they said their goodbyes, as if the very heavens were weeping at the thought of their departure. Draco's mouth was swollen and his skin still flushed from their enthusiastic farewell that had started late in the night and gone on until only a moment before, but he watched through the window as Harry moved farther away from him, and a cold shiver ran through him.

Harry had promised to be careful, promised to return, but Draco couldn't help the sense of foreboding that clawed his very core. Draco stumbled in his haste to get to the door. He flung it open and spilled down the steps on shaky legs that barely supported him. Every fiber of his being screamed, /don't go!/ but nary a word escaped him.

Draco's fingers reached for Harry who turned untouched and received Draco in his arms. Their lips met once more, tongues tangling. Draco clutched desperately at Harry who soothed him with his very presence.

The rain pattered down on them and without a charm, the two of them were quickly soaked. Water trickled down Draco's face and pooled in the hollows of his shoulders and collarbone before cascading down his torso. "Harry!" He choked as his lover pulled away.

"I have to go now, Draco. I'll be alright, and so will you." Harry reiterated all the promises he'd made before and pushed Draco back toward the shelter of the flat they shared.

Draco braced himself in the doorway, stealing one last kiss. As Harry disappeared from sight, his knees gave way. He hoped he was wrong. He prayed....that this was 'See you later' and not 'goodbye'. Draco fought the crushing weight of his emotions, his only solace in the rain itself.

It was warm. It gave him hope.

[hpfangirl71.livejournal.com]

Teen Wolf, Scott/Isaac, Afraid of a thunderstorm.

[samueljames]

I'd like to give this one a try. Would you mind if Melissa also made an appearance?

[hpfangirl71.livejournal.com]

Harry Potter, Any HET couple, Snow on her wedding day.

[burning-night.livejournal.com]

Haven't written these guys in a while, hope I haven't messed them up >_<

/

They wake up on the morning of the wedding to a swathe of white grass and snowflakes blowing past the window. Rolf groans when he sees it, but Luna smiles. It looks just like she planned.

She’d wanted a tent outside (Bill and Fleur’s wedding had been so lovely, after all), but most people had advised against it. It was the middle of winter, they said. Inside would be better.

And when she’d seen the conservatory at Rolf’s parents’ house, she hadn’t felt like complaining any longer.

Of course, even in the conservatory it would still be cold, but they were witches and wizards. That was what spells were for. And the snow piled on the glass roof gave the room a strange, muted light that was picked up perfectly by an array of small candles spread on the various surfaces. They had cleared the forest of plants away to the edges of the room to create space in the centre, and filled it with rows of chairs and a small, white-clothed table for the altar.

Luna smiles as she peeks into the room. Everyone is in position, sitting in their rows or up at the front. Rolf is there, talking to his best man, twining his fingers together like he does when he’s nervous. She takes a breath and looks down at herself. Hopefully she won’t disappoint.

“Alright?” a soft voice asks behind her.

She turns with a smile. “Wonderful.” She pauses. “You look very dashing, Mr Potter.”

He grins. “And you look beautiful of course, Miss Lovegood.” He extends his arm. “Ready?”

She takes it. “Perfectly.”

[hpfangirl71.livejournal.com]

Full Metal Alchemist, Ed/Al or Ed/Roy or Roy/Al, Snowed in.

[jalu2.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Dean/Sam, "my name is dean winchester. i'm an aquarius, i enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach..."

[hpfangirl71.livejournal.com]

Teen Wolf, Derek/Jackson, They have to go back now that the weather's changing.

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward+/Winry+Alphonse+Pinako, Spring showers bring floods rather than flowers.

[vesca-viridian.livejournal.com]

Spring reminds Ed of Teacher, when the rains come crashing down and rising the banks of the river and flooding the fields. There has not been a flood as bad as that year when Teacher had transfigured new river banks and they pleaded for her to teach them alchemy, but there are rains every year, and every year the villagers watch the swell of the river banks, waiting for the rain that pushes them past their bounds.

Ed can’t use his alchemy to stop the flood like Teacher did anymore. Instead he joins Granny Pinako and Winry hauling sand bags with the other villagers. If Al is there, he fuses the sandbags into a sandstone wall. But Al is not always there, and as more years pass he is in Xing studying alongside his wife.

When the spring storms come, Ed dons his raincoat and galoshes and joins farmers near the Wanerite farm and heaves bags of sand whether it is day or night, rain clouding his vision and stinging against his palms where the rough burlap bags holding the sand rub his hands raw. Halfway through the storm Winry comes with Granny Pinako’s tea spiked with whiskey and hot rolls and heaves sand bags by his side.

As the storm slides away and the sun or stars come out, Winry sits by his side and they watch the sun rise or the stars shine and feel the after storm calm. The grass is always greenest after a storm, the leaves bright as neon against wet-black bark.

When the sun dries the ground, and the river calms, the flowers will bloom, red and blue and yellow across the fields. Granny Pinako will let old Den out to run and smoke on the front porch. Ed will bring wildflowers to their loved ones’ graves. And Winry will welcome him home as always, safe until the next floodwater comes.

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward/Winry, She's not dressed for the cold weather of Briggs.

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Archie Comics, Betty+Veronica+any of the guys, Bikini weather

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

MCU(X-Men) Logan+/Rogue, He likes the snow, she prefers the heat

X-Men Movieverse Fill: The North and the South

[scribblemyname]

He likes the snow. She prefers the heat. North and south will do that, don't you know.

"Now, Wolverine, sugar,"—and Rogue only drawls like she was still in Mississippi when she really means business; for that matter, the name she chose is a fairly sure giveaway she means business—"you can wander about in as much of Canada's snow as you please," she informs him, arms deep in dishwater. "But don't you go tracking in that snow on my floor."

"It's my floor," Logan reminds her, exasperated, but removes his boots and comes in the cabin where she's got a fire going and supper on. "How's pint-size?" he asks abruptly.

"Jubilee's asleep," Rogue answers and he can't quite read her. she's focused on the dishes.

Rogue took off from the Institute with Logan the last time he left. She had taken the Cure and discovered the nasty side effect that while her ability to absorb and control the psyches of other people was gone, the psyches she had already absorbed stuck around. Some days, Logan looks at her and he sees Allerdyce's fire in her eyes. Some days, he catches her talking just like Bobby, David, the Professor, Magneto—himself. It bothers him, but as long as he keeps treating like he always has, it doesn't seem to bother her.

Jubilee had called his cell phone and asked to come for a visit, so they got off the road to his cabin and had her.

"You miss them all?" Logan asks suddenly.

Rogue sniffs. "I miss the heat." She glances pointedly out the window into blinding snow, then back to his boots dripping in the entry.

"I mean, Jubilee and the gang." He had cleared out an hour ago so they could talk without worrying about his enhanced hearing. "You miss your friends any?"

Rogue frowns but shakes her head, then hums thoughtfully to herself. "Like Bobby?" A mischievous glint is in her eye as she peeks up at him.

He almost growls at the name. "No." He hasn't asked if Rogue still has a crush on him and he genuinely hope she doesn't. She's the closest thing to a cub he's ever had. "I mean friends."

Rogue lets the water out of the sink and dries her hand on a dishtowel, then comes to sit beside him on the couch. "Do you?"

It's a slam in the gut. "They're mostly dead," he reminds her, rough rasp. He reaches out and fingers a strand of her white hair.

"Kind of leaves you cold, doesn't it?" she prods.

He stares at her.

Rogue sighs and gets up. "I'm going to bed."

He's not sure if he really hears her murmur or it's just his imagination. "And you wonder why I like the heat."

#

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

In Plain Sight, Marshall+/Mary, "Weather thou goest." "Don't you mean 'whither', doofus?"

[jalu2.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Winchesters (+/), the world ends in a storm

[clwilson2006.livejournal.com]

SGA, Lorne/Parrish, Heatwave

No fill (yet!), but...

[squidgiepdx]

Oh honey... The images I have in my head right now! :)

[elfgirljen.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, wee!chesters, snow day

[elfgirljen.livejournal.com]

any, any, "I wish it would stop raining."

Raindrop City (Monkees, ensemble, no warnings)

[omorka.livejournal.com]

The moping wouldn't have been so bad if it hadn't been Micky who was doing it.

If it had been Mike in one of his periodic glum moods, they would have tried to cheer him up. If it had been Peter staring dully out of the window, they would have teased him until he either snapped out of it or got mad enough to engage them. If it had been Davy mooning over some girl, at least they would have known no power in the world could change it.

But Micky? Bouncing-off-the-walls, hanging-off-the-stairs, motormouth Micky, sitting slumped at his drum stool, staring glumly out of the bay windows? None of the others had any idea how to deal with that.

The first day, they ignored it, figuring that, like all of Micky's moods, it would pass in ten minutes' time.

The second day, they tiptoed around it, waiting for his patience to run out and for him to start explaining, like he always did.

On the third day, they took a vote and decided on the direct approach. Davy, as usual, drew the short straw, so he strode over to the bandstand, began rummaging in the old trunk for his striped maracas, and asked, as casually as he could, "Hey, Micky, what's been eating you?"

Micky pulled his eyes away from the windows to stare grimly at Davy, then turned back. "I wish it would stop raining," he answered, so quietly Davy could barely hear him.

Well, that was puzzling. Davy sat down cross-legged between the hi-hat and Peter's bass and waited to see if Micky would add anything; he heard, rather than saw, Mike sidling up behind him with Peter in his shadow. When Micky seemed to go back to studying the droplets on the glass, Davy piped up again: "I can't remember rain ever bothering you like this before, Micky."

"It's summer," Micky answered.

After another pause, this time it was Mike who responded. "Mick, it rains in summer all the time."

Slowly, Micky turned to half-face his bandmates. "In Texas, maybe," he said, his voice rustier and reedier than usual. "Not here. Not in sunny Southern California, it doesn't."

Mike raised an eyebrow. "Huh. What with the weather never changin' that much, I guess I didn't notice." He turned to Peter. "D'you notice, Pete?"

Peter's nose wrinkled. "Well," he started, "what I notice, really, is spring and fall. Or, I mean, not-spring and not-fall. They sort of don't happen here."

"Oh, spring and fall happen," Mike drawled. "Summer doesn't happen much, though. Half the time, the temperature barely breaks ninety degrees in July and August."

Micky cracked a half-smile. "Yeah," he allowed, "I guess you guys are used to the weather not behaving like you expect here. It's just," he interrupted himself to wave vaguely at the windows, "this is so bizarre for me. It's been raining for four days straight, and that means mudslides - if not here, then up the canyon." He swallowed. "I'm kinda worried we won't be able to get back into town."

"Mudslides?" Davy yelped. "You must be joking!"

Mike perched his hands on his hips. "Now, I'm just sick and tired of the ground not stayin' where it's supposed to 'round here," he announced. "Bad enough when it just wiggles back and forth a bit, now you're saying we might have to worry about it slidin' down the hill, too?"

Peter scowled, and added, "If people had just left all the brush on the hills where it belongs, then the ground would stay put."

Micky turned all the way around and looked at his bandmates. "Okay, yeah, I get it," he mumbled, "for you guys the weather here is always weird."

"Not at all," Davy chirped. When Micky looked at him for an explanation, he answered, "For the last four days, it's been perfectly normal."

Micky lowered his head, and for a moment, Davy thought he'd hurt his feelings. Then he heard the chuckling. It wasn't Micky's usual manic giggle, but after three days of the blues, it'd do just fine.

As they led Micky over to the kitchen for lunch, Peter murmured, "Remind me to tell you about the time we had a hurricane."

[elfgirljen.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, wee!chesters, searching for a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow

[elfgirljen.livejournal.com]

any, any, chasing the storm

[icarus-chained.livejournal.com]

Author's choice, author's choice, alien atmospheres

[farad.livejournal.com]

Magnificent Seven, Buck, a sunny day even when it's raining

[farad.livejournal.com]

Magnificent Seven, Nathan, a cloudy day even when it's sunny.

[nevcolleil.livejournal.com]

any, any, to lend an umbrella in fair weather and, when it rains, ask for it back

[nevcolleil.livejournal.com]

Any, any, It is only in sorrow bad weather masters us; in joy we face the storm and defy it.

Fill: Shakespeare, Twelfth Night, unrequited Sebastian/Antonio

[aunt-zelda.livejournal.com]

Antonio remembers how, after they first fished him out of the ocean, Sebastian was as gloomy as the skies. Of course, he wasn’t Sebastian then, he was Roderigo, taking a false name as a caution. Considering the rough faces of the crew and their less-than-legitimate operations, Antonio couldn’t blame Sebastian for the deception.

Sebastian stood at the rails, staring out at the waves, heedless of rain or chill, overcome with grief. Antonio had seen men do much the same before, standing in the rain to hide the tears on their faces. He did not begrudge Sebastian that small shelter.

Now it is Antonio who stands at the rails, in the rain and sleet and fog, frost on his eyebrows and numbing his face and hands, as he pulls his jacket closer. He finds no delight in the swirling clouds or steady breeze, only the ache of his loss, of chances not taken and opportunities unexplored.

The curve of Sebastian’s mouth in a rare smile. The color of his eyes, so like the place where the sea and sky meet on the horizon. The warmth of his hand on Antonio’s shoulder.

When he was young, Antonio used to love storms. He would climb the rigging and ride out the gale, laughing in defiance of Nature and her power, letting her rage and might wash over him, consume him utterly.

Now, Antonio finds no joy in the storms that toss his ship hither and thither. He feels only sorrow that he stands on the deck alone, without Sebastian at his side.

[nevcolleil.livejournal.com]

Any, any, "Just for the record, the weather today is calm and sunny, but the air is full of bullshit..."

[gabriel4sam.livejournal.com]

SGA, John/Rodney, shelter from the monsoon

[gabriel4sam.livejournal.com]

Harry Potter, Neville/Theodore, Surprise love is like the english sun.