Hey guys! I have two announcements to make. Some of you might already know the first one; Hazel’s birthday being the 29th this month. But now, I got another one that i’m sure will excite you guys!

Meet Connor! Hazel’s little brother! In canon, he is only a baby at the time; Hazel being 12. However, this is his own 12 year old design! His bio is below.

Connor is very shy, but enjoys to spend time with his family; especially his sister. He also is very energetic, and loves to run around and play. When he is scared, he will freeze up and stay where he is, which means he has a hard time to defend himself. Hazel sticks up for him, and will do what she can to protect him.

(I may add more for his bio later.)

anonymous asked:

playing with two of my friends earlier when roadhog ults me off the map, my friend playing genji runs in and kills roadhog, jumps where i can see him and swift strikes back onto land and saves me just before i fall off the map! because of him i managed to rez three of my team and we ended up winning!

Bless his soul ;-;

Playing with Fire pt. 2

Originally posted by whithoutmoonlight

Pairing: Suga x Reader

Genre: Gang AU

Author’s note: Here is Part Two of Playing with Fire! Part One can be found here <3 Enjoy!

The rest of the day went by excruciatingly slow and when it was finally over, you were more than ready to go home. Only, you couldn’t. As soon as the teacher dismissed class for the day, the boys made no effort to get up and start doing the task they had been given for detention. So, instead, you went to every classroom in the hallway and gathered the erasers after cleaning the boards. Returning back to your classroom, you weren’t surprised to see that they boys were still talking to one another.

“Look at that,” Jungkook said when he noticed you putting the erasers down on one of the desks in the front. “Y/N’s gonna do our work for us.”

“And people say that student council members are only about themselves.” Rap Monster grinned at you.

“I still wouldn’t doubt it.” The mint colored hair boy spoke up for the first time since class had started. You didn’t even know him, but the hostility in his voice towards you was noticeable.

“Suga hyung is right. Never trust a pretty girl.” V agreed, and you almost shot him a glare. You shouldn’t be surprised. Just because he thinks you’re pretty doesn’t mean he’s gonna disagree with his gang and take your side all of a sudden.

“I cleaned the blackboards. The least you guys can do is clean the erasers.” You spoke boldly. You’re a pushover, but you weren’t going to do all of this for them. At least, you weren’t planning on it until Jungkook stood to his feet.

“Are you trying to give us orders now, Y/N?” He walked closer to you and slowly, the other boys started to get to their feet as well. However, Suga and the still sleeping boy remained seated.

“We don’t take kindly to being told what to do.” Jungkook told you in a tone that almost sounded threatening.

“I… I’m not telling you what to do… The teacher gave you this punishment.” You reminded him as you took a step back. He was getting far too close to you.

“Well the teacher isn’t here.” Unexpectedly, Jungkook grabbed the front of your shirt and pulled you closer to him. “How about we do something more fun instead, huh? What do you say, boys?”

The laughter and whistling of the other boys caused for your chest to rise and fall heavily. First of all, you absolutely hated it when people touched you. Especially with force like this. Secondly, you were so outnumbered that it wasn’t funny. Even with you being scared, you were also somewhat irritated. The boys have been acting up all day.

“Is this what your gang does then? Harass girls half your size to feel tough?” You asked before you could stop yourself. ‘Ohs’ came from the boys behind Jungkook, and you could immediately tell that you had said that to the wrong member.

Glaring at you, Jungkook roughly jerked you towards him, his face only a few inches from yours. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to, huh?” His hissed lowly at you, his grip on your shirt tightening. “I could kill you right here and now, and my only punishment would be a slap on the wrist.” It didn’t sound like a threat but more like something he was actually considering doing.

“Enough.” A voice said sternly before anyone could say anything else. Turning your head in the direction it came from, you weren’t sure who had said it first. Then, you noticed the sleeping boy slide his feet of his desk and pull the hat from his head. The look on his face sent chills up your spine. His eyes were dark and his face hard, and you could see a hint of annoyance on his features. “Do as she says. We’ve got things to do, and you’re wasting time.”

Jungkook set his jaw, his eyes giving you one last glare before he pushed you away from him. Following his lead, the boys all grabbed erasers and started to smack them together to get the chalk out of them. Besides the boy who you were assuming was the leader, Suga didn’t move from his seat. Realizing this, the sleepy boy stood to his feet and moved to him. He grabbed him by his arm and yanked him to his feet.

“That includes you, Min Yoongi.”

Not responding, Suga shrugged out of the male’s grasp. He gave him a cold look as if mentally telling him not to touch him. However, he didn’t disobey and came over to help his fellow members. You thought that would be the end of it but you were mistaken. Sleepy picked up his hat and started heading in your direction. You couldn’t help but to tense up for about the twentieth time today. You tried to keep your features calm, but you were honestly scared of these boys. And with him being the one in charge, you feared him even more.

Paying no mind to how uncomfortable you looked, he stopped when he was in front of you. Looking you up and down, he placed his hat on backwards. “You should be careful who you disrespect around here.” His voice wasn’t threatening like how Jungkook’s had been. “You know of our gang, which means you should know that you don’t want to piss us off. It won’t end well for you if you do.” That last part was a threat. You could tell that much.

A loud sneeze caused for you to jump, and you looked over Sleepy’s shoulder to see J-Hope wiping his nose. “Can we go now, Jin hyung? I’m about to die from all this chalk.” He asked. Not answering, Jin looked at you and raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah..” You were sure the erasers were fine. Also, you were ready for these guys to leave.

The boys sighed in relief, and a few of them coughed and waved their hands around to try and get rid of the remnants of the chalk that hung around in the air. Tossing the erasers on a desk, the boys started to exit the classroom. Suga was the only one who stayed behind, continuing to tap his erasers together.

“You can just go.” You told him.

“I started after them, so I should leave after them. We should all pull our own weight, right?” He replied without even bothering to look up at you. You didn’t say anything else, and neither did he. 

When he seemed content with his work, he held the erasers out to you. Taking them from him, your fingers brushed against his. You were surprised and embarrassed and as a result, you quickly pulled your hands away before securing your grasp on the erasers. Both of them dropped to the ground but before you could move, Suga was already couching down to get them with a sigh of exasperation.

“You’re annoying.” He told you, staying crouched down as he held the erasers up to you, making sure to hold them close to the ends so that you wouldn’t have another mishap.

“Sorry,” you muttered and took the erasers from him. Watching as he stood to his feet with a bored expression on his face, he brushed past you and left the classroom without another word.

Squeezing your eyes closed, you let out a groan. How on earth were you going to do this? You had a feeling that this wasn’t going to be your last time staying after to supervise their detention, and you were dreading it so much already.

Katsuki Yuuri is 22 and in college and disgustingly in love with Viktor Nikiforov, his boyfriend of two years.

They have a one-year-old puppy named Makkachin, whom they got from the breeder as soon as he was fully weaned. 

They live together in a gorgeous 2-bedroom apartment - with huge bay windows and what is technically a guest room, but which they’ve been calling “Phichit’s room” for as long as they’ve been living there, for how often the Thai boy stays over. Sometimes, Chris stays there too, when he’s in the country, and Phichit will complain for weeks afterwards that nothing is where he left it and someone has been rummaging in his personal belongings. (Yuuri and Viktor have long since given up questioning why he even keeps his personal belongings in their guestroom).

Viktor is a successful, best-selling author who insists on travelling to the places his books are set in the interest of accuracy even when the setting has next to nothing to do with the plot, because he’s just extra like that.

Yuuri and Makkachin travel with him whenever they can, but being a college student doesn’t give you that much free time, so most often Yuuri has to stay at home, or come home early. He doesn’t mind too much. He’s never actually alone for more than a few days at a time anyways (again, Phichit crashes at their place a lot).

They’re happy and disgustingly adorable and #couplegoals for literally everyone.

And then…they break up. And neither of them will say why. All anyone knows is that it started with a tiny little argument, and spiralled quickly into something monstrous and devastating.

And within the month, Yuuri moves out of his gorgeous 2-bedroom apartment with the huge bay windows and the guest room that they used to call Phichit’s room.

He leaves behind the boyfriend he was disgustingly in love with, and the puppy that whines pitifully after him, scratching at the door and begging to be let out.

He’s done uni by then, and so is Phichit. They have nothing left to tie them to that city, and because Phichit is beautiful and perfect and a way better best friend than Yuuri deserves, he convinces Yuuri to move with him across the country, to sunny beaches and towering palms, to a place as far away from home as they can possibly get, while staying in the same country.

And Viktor? He’s left behind in a too big apartment, with a heartbroken puppy that lies listlessly on Yuuri’s side of the bed and can only fall asleep when listening to Yuuri’s breathless laughter through old vacation videos on Viktor’s laptop.

Once their lease is up, Viktor decides to move back home to Russia, to parents who hug him tightly when they see him standing miserable and tired on their doorstep, and a little brother who barely recognizes him without his ex boyfriend attached to his hip.

He keeps writing his books (tragedies now, instead of the romance his fans have grown to expect from him), even sells his movie rights to some of them, and Makkachin starts running and playing again, tongue lolling happily out of his mouth and bouncing with excitement whenever Yura mentions the beloved “w” word. These days, Viktor always takes him travelling with him, ever since Makkachin got sick with anxiety the first time Viktor left him behind at his parents’ home for a week.

And meanwhile, Yuuri learns to live with a gaping hole in his chest where his heart used to be, so painful some days he can barely breathe.

Phichit is with him every step of the way, his partner-in-crime, his brother in all but blood, his platonic soulmate. (It’s a warm and sticky summer night when they lie on a sandy beach and listen to the waves lapping quietly at their bare toes, and they promise each other that if neither of them are married by forty, they’ll just marry each other. It’s not exactly what Yuuri had wanted from his future, but it still makes him clutch at his stomach in breathless laughter when Phichit suggests it.)

Viktor had always been the author out of the two of them, the one that knew how to string words in just the right order to paint a vivid picture in the minds of his readers.

But Yuuri isn’t too bad at it himself, he thinks. He decides to give it a try.

He paints a story of a clumsy couple, charmingly naive, so in love, so perfectly imperfect. He paints a story of a couple that bickers and banters, fights and then makes up with whispered apologies and warm cuddles. He writes about a couple that fights and makes up, fights and makes up, fights and makes up until…quite suddenly…they don’t.

He writes about the couple that goes their separate ways. A couple that is too young, too inexperienced for this thing they have between them, this thing that’s so huge, so important, so beautiful, they’re both afraid to lose it, so they throw it away themselves.

And then, just because he wants to give them the one thing he’d long given up hope for, he ends their story with a question.

(Can we give this a second chance?)

Katsuki Yuuri is 26, and disgustingly in love with Viktor Nikiforov, the boy he broke up with three and a half years ago.

He has a cute little 2-year-old toy poodle named Vicchan, whom his roommate, his platonic soulmate (his potential fiancé?) had given to him as a present to get over his broken heart.

They live together in a cozy little 1-bedroom apartment just ten minutes away from the beach, with a sofa-bed that their friends, Guang-Hong and Leo, like to crash on sometimes when they’re in the middle of another lovers’ quarrel.

Yuuri is a best-selling author, with his one-hit wonder, On My Love, garnering international attention and countless desperate requests for a sequel.

Yuuri likes to take Vicchan for walks along the beach early in the morning, just as the sun is beginning to peek above the horizon and paint the sky in soft pinks and dazzling oranges.

They’re taking a break one day, with Vicchan splashing in the shallows a few feet away, when Yuuri is suddenly bowled over by a whining, panting, standard sized poodle, all soft brown fur and sloppy kisses.

He can barely breathe around the desperate affection, and not even Vicchan’s excited, curious yapping is enough to distract the ecstatic giant furball from his reunion with his long-lost and sorely missed human.

As soon as Yuuri can breathe again, fingers curled into his beautiful older puppy’s fur, he looks up, and his heart clenches at the sight of the Russian man standing a few feet away, a familiar paperback clutched to his chest with white-knuckled hands.

He still wears his heart on his sleeve.

A question tumbles out of his mouth.

And in that moment, Yuuri knows to start his next book with an answer.

(“Of course.”)

Some of the days will be like children running, playing and laughing at the park. Families eating together inside a comfy restaurant. Teenagers walking hand in hand. A lovely lady inside a fancy boutique trying a dress with her smile and lips apart. Some of the days will be sunny as if the whole world decided to spread a happy vibe. But we both know darling, that some of the days will also be like silence in a crowded room. Like a man alone sitting on a bench watching people passed in front of him from morning to noon. Some of the days will make you love yourself more, yet some days will make you realize how people tend to judge one another. Some of the days will make you feel like you wanted to change the world because of everything you feel—because of the worst things you’ve seen. Some of the days will make you want to smile at every single stranger who you’ll meet. As if you wanted them to see how wonderful the day is. Some of the days will tell you who you are, and some days will drag you somewhere else trying to tell you that you’re lost again. Yet also maybe every day might be all the same to you. Because you’ve been doing the same thing again and again. But darling, when you try to look back, years from now, you will always find yourself wondering what time can do to us. That no matter how many times you tell to yourself that nothing is different, if it’s not you, then the world will always make you realize that a lot of things already changed. Including every people around you. Even you.
—  ma.c.a // Days in a Year

In Splatoon 2, there are two ways to play Salmon Run: local multiplayer and online.

Local multiplayer lets you play anytime, anywhere. When you don’t have enough players gathered locally to start a full 4v4 Turf War, Salmon Run is great option.

Online play, on the other hand, is event-based and can be enjoyed during times when Grizzco Industries is open for business.

my funeral

If/when I die instead of a guest book at my funeral I want there to be a tag yourself as my mannerisms/funny stuff I did and everyone who goes signs their name under the thing they tag themselves as. everyone leaves with a random saved snapchat i sent to someone printed out on cardstock. everyone who gives a eulogy has a loud and obnoxious interrupting playout like at the oscars except it’s the intro to run away with me played at full volume. also, a la the oscars, during the wake, jimmy kimmel walks in wearing a tux, leading in a small army of random tourists for absolutely no reason and at the end it turns out somebody else died.


My thoughts on ‘Tales From The Yawning Portal’

I received my advance copy of @dndwizards​’s new book Tales from the Yawning Portal not quite a week ago. If you haven’t heard of this book here’s the gist of it:

TftYP is a collection of seven ‘classic’ dungeon adventures from D&D editions past, all updated with fifth edition rules. In this book you get…

  • Against the Giants (AD&D)
  • Dead in Thay (D&D Next)
  • Forge of Fury (D&D 3e)
  • Hidden Shrine of Tamoachan (AD&D)
  • The Sunless Citadel (D&D 3e)
  • Tomb of Horrors (AD&D)
  • White Plume Mountain (AD&D)

All of the maps and layout have been updated to make them easier on the eyes, while their traps, monsters, structure, and challenges remains largely unchanged. TftYP is a ‘best of’ book, rather than a remake or reboot of these adventures.

If you’re a millennial who got into D&D through things like Acquisitions Inc, The Adventure Zone, or Critical Role, my take on this book is gonna be of interest to you…because this book might be specifically FOR YOU.  

Originally posted by ewzzy

Keep reading

Harry’s commitment to keeping a glass of champagne in his hand even while running around playing with a toddler is truly incredible. What vacation/life goals.

the signs as my favourite RT quotes: ah rap battle edition

aries: im the young hero. get me a damsel in distress. cause i’m the leader of the lads fuck whatever gavin says [x]

taurus: im more famous than all of you combined, so suck it! talent so small it could fit inside a bucket. [x]

gemini: and from the first let’s play i was making you money and all the comments read, “wow, when did jack get funny?” [x]

cancer: now i admit you guys clearly had some good lines today, but remember one thing: i wrote them all anyway. [x]

leo: my rhymes are like the asses on my characters. damn fine. [x]

virgo:  im busy running let’s play. have you heard of it? [x]

libra: never thought i’d steal your thunder but guess what? i did. dealing insults out like here’s lookin’ at you, kid. [x]

scorpio: the ninth person hired, and the first that was useful [x]

sagittarius:  the fans were feeling timid when i first showed up. now if i said im walking out, the internet would blow up [x]

capricorn: it’s like five tiny cars against a monster truck. [x]

aquarius: when fans join the game, i make ‘em retreat with the powerful use of one word: leave. [x]

pisces: a difficult question for our fans would be, a million dollars but all your content would be without me. [x]

[EXTRA ophiuchus: the glaring problem that im seeing with you boys is you’re not good enough to be famous for bird noises [x] ]

[PT. 1]  [PT. 2]  [PT. 3] [PT. 4] [PT. 5] [PT. 6]  [LAZER TEAM] [RAP BATTLE]

Band instruments ranked by how effective they'd be in a fight
  • Clarinet: hold it like a sword, easy. Nice and heavy but not too heavy to swing with one hand. Downside- weird bell shape at the end might get in the way of the wrist. 8/10
  • Trumpet: clunky. Could be used to deafen or swipe but only truly effective in close-combat. Seasoned band students will be completely unaffected by the noise. 4/10
  • Saxophone: neck straps really hinder movement. If they're not there, the instrument could be effectively used as a bludgeon, bit awkward handling though. A flawless performance of Careless Whisper could confuse or impress opponent enough for you to run away. 5/10
  • Bassoon: same good points as a clarinet, have to be stronger to swing it though. weird stabby mouthpiece is a blessing and a curse- great if it pokes the opponent, really not great if it pokes you. 8/10
  • French horn: you're too rare. You can't be spared. Use your abnormally circular instrument as a shield for your retreat and let someone else fight for you. N/A
  • Tuba: battering ram. Need I say more. Downside- really heavy, tuba players are also not used to doing much work since their parts are literally the easiest shit ever. It's more an issue with the fighter than the weapon. 3/10 to 7/10, depending on how angry you got reading that
  • Trombone: you'd think these would be great stabbing machines, and you'd be correct. Catch someone in the temple with this bitch? They're fucking dead. 8/10
  • Flute: excellent sword. Nothing's in the way. You have probably seen several flute players already playfighting like this. They are like baby lions. They are preparing for the time to fight for real. Their intense hatred of playing their instrument only worsens with age. If you irritate them or give them enough ridiculous runs to play they stop giving a fuck about dents. Incredibly dangerous. 9/10
  • Piccolo: kind of like a flute but wimpy. Too short to be effective in a fight but could probably blow your eardrums out at the right pitch. 3/10
  • Percussion: trickster gods. Have you seen the way they treat their instruments? They don't give a shit. Filled with arrogance and max-level dexterity. Every single one of them is a chaotic-something. They'll throw anything. They'll throw a mallet. They'll throw a cymbal. They'll throw the drum set. They'll throw each other. You'll never touch them. You'll have a trumpet mute shoved down your throat before you get close. Those don't even belong to them. 10/10
playing with fire (m.) | 01

After an ugly breakup between you and your boyfriend of nearly one year, Jimin – you’re not only heartbroken, but absolutely irate at the things discovered after the two of you split up. One night while under the influence of pure unadulterated anger and alcohol, you and your best friend come up with the perfect plan to get back at him. Because, after all, you do know what they say, right?

If he breaks your heart, you fuck his best friend.

…Even if he has six.


pairing: hoseok x reader

word count: 4.2k

collaboration with: @blushoseoks

genre: smut  |  angst  |  fuckboy!hoseok

warning: wall sex  |  oral  |  dirty talk  |  demeaning names  |  cheating

masterlist | emna’s masterlist

The gentle click of heels against the linoleum floor - almost drowned out by the muffled music coming from the end of the corridor. A cracked door, the only light source in a space that had no windows. When Jeongyeon had told you that Hoseok would be practicing late, you almost didn’t believe her. You and he had never been close. The only time you ever spoke was when Jimin would bring you over to the frat house and most of the time Hoseok would be making out with his girlfriend or fucking her loud enough that when she would leave his room - dazed with messy lipstick and a bubbly expression on her face, the boys would tease her nonstop until a blush rose on her cheeks.

Keep reading

No offense,but Harry Styles running around playing with a toddler is literally the cutest thing in the world!😊😍🙈🙊🙈

Marichat ‘Cliche’ Balcony Make Out Scene

Take One: Romeo and Juliette

Here it is, special dedication for that anon who specifically hates cliche marichat balcony scenes. I wrote one at least. 

Tagging @baneismydragon who apparently has a throne of Marichat cliches like wow I’m jealous. And it is also for everybody who was super sweet with me yesterday, thank you guys, I love you all <3

Side note: Juliette is the French version of Juliet so no, it isn’t a typo.

Marinette paced from one end of her balcony to the other, while glaring at the papers in her hands. It was well past midnight and she could be seeping just like Tikki was doing at the moment, in her comfortable bed. But no, she was out, repeating the lines for the stupid play. Why did she let Alya convince her she should be in it. Ah, screw that, why did she let Alya convince her she should try for Juliette’s part out of all things. Why was the school doing a Romeo and Juliette anyway? Did they run out of French plays? And even if they had to do it, couldn’t they do the modern version? Which didn’t require excentric old words no one used anymore?

Marinette groaned exasperatedly, before trying another line. Trying to sound sad she recited.

“The only man I love is the son of the only man I hate! I saw him too early without knowing who he was, and I found out who he was too late! Love is a monster for making me fall in love with my worst enemy.”

Marinette let her shoulders drop. That sounded lame even to her ears. Honestly, how was she supposed to make that sound sincere? She was a bad actress, she knew it. The only way she could pull off that line was if Adrien’s father was Hawkmoth or something. Which was ridiculous, of course. Honestly, she should just give up on this, Alya would get over it.

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliette is the sun.”

Marinette turned around, startled to see Chat Noir on the chimney. With all the feline grace he possessed, he jumped on the lower one. Marinette was wonderstruck when she noticed his look. He seemed to be really into it.

“Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief, that thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. Be not her maid since she is envious. Her vestal livery is but sick and green, and none but fools do wear it. Cast it off!” Marinette watched flabbergasted as Chat tip toped on the side, careful to not kick her plants while gesticulating wildly, emotion raw in his voice. Extending his hand towards her, he continued. “It is my lady. Oh, it is my love.”

Marinette almost yelled in panic as Chat Noir let himself fall over the edge, but stopped just in time when she heard his voice continuing with the lines. Her eyes trailed across the railing of the balcony as she followed the sound of his voice. And just then Chat appeared again over the railing.

“As daylight doth a lamp. Her eye in heaven would through the airy region stream so bright that birds would sing and think it were not night.” Marinette stood frozen in amazement as Chat stepped towards her. She was captivated and she wouldn’t even bother lying. It was impressive. Not only the fact that her dear partner knew the whole damn monolog of Romeo, but also the way he recited it. It truly made her feel like she was watching one of the most skilled actors putting on a show just for her.

“See how she leans her cheek upon her hand. Oh, that I were a glove upon that hand.” Marinette looked up in surprise as Chat leaned towards her, his next words being whispered. “ That I might touch that cheek.”  one gloved finger caressed her cheek gently.

“Oh, my.” Marinette wasn’t even sure if it was her gasping that out loud. Chat got awfully close, but she didn’t mind it, not quite. Marinette realized, she didn’t quite appreciate how nice Chat’s eyes were, even with the cat-like look, they were complementing beautifully his blond hair. She leaned in without really realizing. Not until she captured his lips.

Chat melted against her. It was so much better than that kiss on Valentine’s Day. It was no rush to break a curse or run to detransform. And she could appreciate so much better the softness of his lips and the faint taste of mint. Chat wrapped one arm around her waist bringing her closer. Marinette sighed against his lips. She felt warm and it was such a simply pleasant sensation, their lips against each other.

Marinette let out a grunt of annoyance once they broke apart. It took them a couple of seconds to stare at each other before they jumped away. It finally seemed to drown on them what they had done.

“I um…er….”

“I got a little… um.”

“And you were…”

“And you just…’

They both rubbed their necks awkwardly, while glancing at each other. Marinette decided she won’t let the awkwardness ruin this night which just took a wonderful turn.

“Do you… do you want to stay for milk and cookies?” she glanced at Chat, waiting for his response.

He smiled shyly, a little blush appearing on his cheeks. “I’d love to.”