discussing the weather

Awkward Conversation

I wrote it!! 

This is not my best. I wrote this late at night after having class all day and studying for midterms so it’s sloppy but it’ll do. 

Here you go @jadeandsunsets and @dragonlover7860 ! I hope you guys like it! 

There are so many ways I imagine Stoick finding out about Hiccup and Astrid but this is the one I chose to write. 

Enjoy! :) 

Stoick was walking up the many steps to the Great Hall, where he was supposed to meet Gobber and a few others to discuss the winter weather preparations. He was halfway up the stairs when he heard a giggle. 

He turned around and saw nothing behind him but then as he continued up the steps, he heard the same laugh again. Stoick peeked over the side and saw Astrid pressed against the stone and Hiccup pressed up against the girl. The two young Vikings were kissing. 

They are kissing. Oh Thor! Finally! Stoick thought to himself as he smiled at the couple. He stood there for another few moments before he realized he would probably get caught if he stood there any longer. He continued up the steps and made his way inside the empty hall. 

While waiting on the others to show, Stoick sat in thought. 

When did this happen? Why didn’t Hiccup tell me? 

Stoick figured that he could either be the father that flat out tells his son he saw the two kissing by the stairs or he could be the father that tries to pry it out of his son with awkward questions. 

Stoick decided on the second option. It seemed like more fun. 

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I overshare a lot and I realize my friends w/o personality disorders sometimes find it strange or even vaguely uncomfortable but it’s honestly the only way I can actually feel connected to them. I can’t connect to people through other topics of conversation because the only thing that truly feels like a part of myself is my suffering.

Any other topic is emotionally akin to simply discussing the weather so if I have even a slight desire to be someone’s friend I will almost always talk about my symptoms and my trauma. Even when I can see it bothering them.



I saw this in some of the tags for headcanons from the post I did yesterday.

Is this a thing? Trollavellan?


  • Trollavellan where she catches Solas’ spies and has them locked in the War Room with her seated at the head of the table, watching. When she stands up, they shudder in fear, knowing her reputation. They are then surprised as she pours them a cup of tea and has a casual discussion with them about the weather and other inane things. They are released outside of Skyhold with a vague order to tell Solas to try again.
  • Trollavellan that sends random gift boxes to Solas wherever his hideout is, full of clothes for his higher ranking spies, and a new knitted sweater for him to wear under his armor.
  • Trollavellan that sends HUNDREDS of orders of frilly cakes to be delivered right to his doorstep, no returns possible.
  • Trollavellan that allows his spies to ‘overhear’ a grand, over-the-top plan, but in truth when he shows up to put a stop to it, he finds a small wolfpup with a bow tied on top of its head.
  • Trollavellan that writes him daily letters of false plans, allowing his spies to pick them up. The more letters the spies find, the more…risque or ridiculous they are, until it becomes a game for the spies to find the most ridiculous plan that Lavellan has concocted for their master to stop.
  • Trollavellan that becomes best friends with Solas’ best spies, telling them all about useless things that she’s done during the day for them to report back.
  • Trollavellan using that as an opportunity to tell Solas that she misses him and asks him to come home soon. 
The alien vessel landed quietly on St Peter's square in Rome...

A hatch opened and two little grey men with dazzling smiles appeared. They were promptly granted an audience with the Pope.

After a brief discussion about the weather, the Pope said, “I know this question may sound odd to you, but I was wondering if you and your kind knew about Jesus Christ?”

“Jesus Christ?!” exclaimed the slightly taller of two aliens. “Of course we do! He visits our planet every two years or so. Awesome fellow!”

A hush descended on the audience chamber, and everyone watched the Pope, whose face had turned a rather odd purple.

“Every two years?” he shouted. “We’re still waiting for his second coming!”

“Maybe he didn’t like your chocolate?” suggested the alien.

“Chocolate?” replied the Pope. “What in heaven’s name does chocolate have to do with it?”

“Well,” said the alien. “When he came to our planet, we gave him chocolate. Why, what did you do?”

anonymous asked:

Scenario where after Aomine and Akashi got jealous, their respective s.o gets angry/sad because they feel like boys don't trust them or suspects the so's loyalty

Aomine Daiki: When Aomine becomes moody at you for spending time with a classmate after school instead of coming to watch his basketball practice one afternoon, all you can do is stare blankly back at him, unsure about how to respond to his sudden grouchiness. 

“I walked the new transfer student in my class to the train station because he doesn’t know where it is.” You explain for the third time, not sure how much clearer you could be. “We talked about school. And the weather. I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up.”

“Oi. You never talk to me about the weather or school.”

“Oh my god, are you for real?” You shake your head incredulously, unable to believe the words that are coming out of your boyfriend’s mouth. “Daiki, you wouldn’t want to discuss the weather or school even if I paid you.”

“Hah? How would you know? You’ve never tried talking about that kind of stuff before.” Aomine shoves his hands in the pockets of his trousers and kicks at the ground with the ground of his shoe. “Don’t make excuses, just because you prefer talking to that other guy instead -”

“ -aho!” You snap at him, done with putting up with his unnecessarily jealous attitude. “Have you got selective memory or something? You fell asleep on me the last time I tried to talk to you about my day at school!” When he doesn’t respond - probably due to having nothing to say - you continue angrily, “Don’t be so quick to assume that I like someone else just because I speak to them! Honestly, what kind of person do you take me for?”

It takes him a while to reply, but when he does, his tone is more apologetic than accusing, which is a start. “…tch. I just don’t like seeing you by another guy’s side.”

Akashi Seijurou: You feel Akashi’s gaze on you the moment you walk in through the door, and he barely gives you any time to even take off your shoes before the questioning begins.

“You were working after school with your class president again.” He already knows, because it’s not like you’ve kept it a secret from him or anything. Yet despite already knowing, there’s still an edge to his tone that your mind instinctively tells you to be wary of. “How long is this class project going to last for?”

How long are you going to be spending time after school with that guy? Is what he really means, but you’re both very good at avoiding the subject, and deep down, you’re saddened by the fact that he feels the need to ask the question. 

“Three weeks. It’s taking longer than we expected.” You sigh, feigning frustration in an attempt to ease the tension in the room.

His eyes narrow at the word we. “Three weeks is a rather long time.” He pauses briefly, as if he’s thinking carefully about his next words. “Are you sure that you want to continue -”

“- Sei.” You break him off quietly, words barely a whisper. “…do you not trust me?”

Akashi blinks, apparently taken back by the question. It’s the first time you’ve been so direct, and it takes him a few seconds to collect himself.

“It’s not that.” He replies finally, leaning back into the armchair he’s resting in. “I don’t doubt you, ____. It’s just…” He trails off, lowering his eyes. “I apologise. I won’t ask again.”

Mistaken identity

Requested by Anonymous: “Imagine someone playing ‘guess who’ with you on the streets and Thorin going berserk because he thinks you’re being assaulted.”

I hope you enjoy, nonny!


Market day in Dale was always a cheerful sight. Tented stalls lined the main square, where vendors displayed their colorful wares, from fresh fruits and vegetables to toys to clothing and jewelry. The streets were filled with men and dwarrow alike, stopping to exchange well-met-neighbor greetings and discuss business and the weather and the latest gossip as they went about their shopping. 

You were usually among the crowd of dwarves who made the short journey to Dale on market day from your home in the Lonely Mountain, where King Thror ruled over the greatest of dwarven strongholds, and on this bright afternoon, your basket was nearly filled with fresh loaves of bread, the last of the summer strawberries, beeswax candles, a jar of raspberry jam, and a vibrant blue shawl you’d been unable to resist at the weaver woman’s table. Just after considering and rejecting some potatoes that had too many sprouts for your liking, you looked up from the vegetable stand to see a familiar face.

He stood at the end of the row of stalls, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his head cocked to the side, watching you: Prince Thorin, grandson of the King and future heir to the throne of Erebor. He was bold, brave, devastatingly handsome, and currently wearing the gleam in his eye that he reserved for you.

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Closed RP

It was the winter solstice and snow fell heavily upon Targon at this time. Snow did not stop the Rakkor from training, the Ra’Horak from preparing or Leona from her duties and travelers that required Solari aid through this terrible weather. She was determined to aid them even if there were few at this season. Leona heard word of potential travelers a day away from their location and set out to find them. She was bitterly upset to find their heads upon stakes. The cold did not stop Pantheon either.

She did not tolerate it. Perhaps if they were Noxians, but they were clearly not. Leona burned the display away to ashes along with the bodies. The scattered ashes would eventually be hidden by fresh snowfall as if nothing happened. Leona had gone to meet the Rakkor elders for their quick regular checkups to discuss weather, progress and such. All was well among the Solari and Rakkor so the meeting ended quickly, and Leona and the few Ra’Horak were expected to return next morning. Seeing as there was nothing much to do and the priestesses did not accompany them because of the weather, Leona decided to pay Pantheon a quick visit.

Leona had already written him many expressive angry letters in the past about his brutal and disgusting acts towards travelers, which she guessed ended up in the fireplace. She had yelled at him, expressed her displeasure very clearly, even fought him over it but the stubborn God was unmoving in his ways. That would not stop the lioness from telling him exactly how unhappy she was with his tactics again and again, as many times as necessary. She expected him to react in the uncaring manner he usually treated it with that made her blood boil. She at least hoped to ruin that pleasure at the notice that she reduced everything to ashes.

Leona let herself in to his Temple of War. Her armored footsteps echoed throughout the empty halls, fire in her eyes, shield in hand and sword sheathed at her back. She barged straight into his throne room and wasted no second, casting him the full fury of her angered gaze. “Those travelers were mine. They were near a Solari post, almost at our aid. Your justification better be great, for I have already burned the bodies and the display. There is nothing left.”


After WWII, Germany and Italy didn’t talk to each other for almost two decades - partially because they were prohibited to, partially because they didn’t really know how. Then, when their countries opened up political ties again in the 1960′s, their friendship was revived - but it was awkward and stilted, neither of them really knowing how to talk to the other anymore. The friendship that once was had more or less died with Nazi Germany and Fascist Italy and they didn’t even know who the other was anymore.

The regrowth of their friendship took a while, and was made up of small gestures and little things.

Little things like sitting down in a coffee shop and Italy still liking his coffee black and bitter and Germany still liking his white with two sugars, and spending the afternoon discussing the weather and innocent things rather than politics like they were supposed to - because they both agree that talking about politics around each other is still a sore subject and really they’d rather people watch.

Little things like rediscovering a mutual love of Renaissance Art, and several afternoons spent in art museums here and there, Italy gesturing excitedly and babbling away with his own interpretation of the pieces while Germany patiently reads the blurbs about them.

Little things like rainy afternoons spent in the kitchen with Germany’s dogs underfoot and flour everywhere, in pasta and kuchen and through hair and a little dot of it on Germany’s nose, much to Italy’s amusement.

Things that were decidedly not war and what they’d do with the world once they’d torn it down and rebuilt it, but how they could build on the world that was already there, and yes both their economies were in shambles and Germany could only talk to his brother via (too short) telegrams and messages across an impermeable wall, but maybe, just maybe, they’d get through it.

Because one of the only ways to walk through hell is by having someone smile reassuringly and hold your hand and walk with you, and despite the time apart it was a relief to come back together and find that they were both still clinging tightly to each other.

anonymous asked:

Lexa X Reader where Lexa is admiring (y/n) from a far then she confronts her and it's just a really fluffy moment?

In the past twenty-four hours that Lexa had been in the Skaikru’s camp, she had witnessed you hug two males and four females. Before you had gone to your tent for the night, you had placed a kiss each on Clarke, Raven, and Bellamy’s cheeks. The next morning at breakfast, she had noticed you playing with John’s hair and nudging Wick’s shoulder with yours. Twice.

While Lexa was visiting Clarke’s camp to discuss plans about Mount Weather, she had shamelessly been counting the amount of times you had physically touched another person.

It wasn’t actually intentional- When Lexa had arrived at the camp she had vowed to focus on her meetings with Clarke, but when she saw you, she couldn’t help but watch as you conversed with your friends. It just so happened that she began to feel incredibly jealous of each of the touches you gave other people.

In her mind, she’d been subconsciously tallying up the number of affectionate gestures you had shown your friends. Secretly, she had been wishing it was her you were lavishing with kisses. But the meetings were important, so she kept her composure and agreed to go to the meeting room with Clarke. The two leaders focused on finalising their plans for battle and Lexa kept her mind away from you.

By the time all her work had been done, it was nightfall again and Lexa was easily convinced by Clarke to stay another night at the camp, at least until sunrise. When the Commander exited the meeting room, she was eager to find you- not to talk to you, just to keep watch over you.

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It’s the morning after and she’s still BLUSHING, Pepper can’t believe Clint had caught her in nothing but her birthday suit, her life feels as though it’s almost crumbling down. How can she possibly recover from that when she’s faced with seeing the guy on a weekly basis? God, she’s so embarrassed, consumed by humiliation, she’s mortified. Her entrance into the kitchen is subtle, Pepper doesn’t want to make her presence known to him, but goddamn it the silence is darn near killing her. “Some weather, huh?” You just saw me naked and I’m discussing the weather? Potts you get a gold star for ensuing instant awkwardness. She immensely wishes she were anywhere but here. 


Dear Reader,

When I was a child growing up in Stacyville, Maine the views of Mount Katahdin were just part of the day to day landscape. The mountain was referred to as Katahdin by some but was commonly referred to “the mountain” by most. It was frequently mentioned when discussing the weather. “Did you notice that it snowed on the mountain last night?” Or “Wow, the mountain sure was clear this morning” which suggested low precipitation in the air. The magnificent beauty of the mountain was a constant that, for me, was taken for granted.

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I should wear my normal clothes for Halloween and say my costume is a cishet NT able bodied man.

“Hello fellow person I shall grasp your hand momentarily and maintain eye contact in greeting as is our Humon custom. Let us discuss the local weather patterns, the particulars of our occupations and last night’s rousing SportsBall™. Please pass the sun dried tomato based food units”

Title: The Lands We Lost
Word count:
Rating: Explicit
Pairings: Zayn Malik/Harry Styles 
Characters: Zayn Malik, Harry Styles (Gigi Hadid, OFC, OMC + various Malik/Styles family members)
Warnings: Explicit sexual content
Notes: This all stemmed from a tiny little drabble I posted a while back, that several someones insisted I turn into something bigger… I apologise only for how ridiculously long it’s taken me! 

The Do’s and Don’t’s of Having an Assistant.

1. Do get to know your assistant as a person. You’ll be spending a lot of time together; you don’t want to spend endless car journeys discussing the weather.
2. Don’t mistake your assistant for your friend. They are your employee. Boundaries are important.
3. Do treat your assistant with respect.
4. Don’t treat your assistant like your servant. If you’re tired, they can get you a coffee. If your feet hurt, they can call you a masseuse—not massage your feet.
5. Do remember your assistant has a life outside of you. They want evenings and days off for their friends and family just like everyone else.
And possibly the most important rule of all:
6. Don’t fall in love with your assistant.

It’s possible that Zayn should have paid more attention to the last one.


Alison Mosshart talks songwriting & performs #LoseTheRight in the final Dead Weather discussion video.

i’m in love with calum’s words, and the way he speaks. you can feel the passion in every syllable, even when he’s talking about the simplest of topics.  he could be discussing the weather, and I’d still find myself with goosebumps running across my skin, because no matter what he’s saying, I find that he reciprocates beauty. it’s in his lyrics, and in the way his words carve themselves a home inside of your bones. it’s in the way his eyes flood with happiness when he’s talking about something he loves, and in the way they crinkle when he laughs.  he leaves an impression, even with a simple “hello”. his words weave stories over my wounds so expertly that i can almost believe i’m not scarred.