all of the childhood

A tribute to the MMO of our childhoods.

11 years.

All the time we spent playing this Massively Multiplayer Online Game, enshrining the information and history on our wikis.

And now the game, Club Penguin will officially close it’s Abode Flash doors for good.

I highly recommend playing all you can, visit all the rooms, replay all the minigames, feed and care for all the puffles you’ve adopted (or release some, if you wish), buy a lot of items, earn as many stamps as possible and just explore.

However, I’m not sure if the website will be preserved after the fall, so go to the Wayback Machine, and try to save all those recipes and activities in case someone is a blast-to-the-past searcher for fun.

Waddle on, Everypenguin.


Club Penguin

August 22, 2005-March 29, 2017

anonymous asked:

can i request waking up in taehyung's arms?? as fluffy as possible please !

Hold Me Tight (Taehyung x Reader)

Genre: Fluff + Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Your night terrors have plagued you since childhood, but somehow Taehyung makes it all better.

Word count: 767 words 

Originally posted by mvssmedia

You bolted upright, a scream lodged in your throat.

The room was shrouded in darkness, which only elevated your panic. In your chest, your heart was thudding violently, and you could feel sweat beading on your forehead. You tried to calm down, but to no avail. Your breathing only quickened, and you were becoming lightheaded.

It was like you were underwater–the sounds around you were muffled and your body felt too heavy.

“Y/N?” Taehyung mumbled, his voice raspy with sleep. In your panic, he sounded far away. The sound of your rapid breathing was beginning to drown everything away. When Taehyung finally took in your state, he repeated himself frantically. “Y/N, are you okay!?”

Taehyung jumped to your side, cupping your face with his large, warm hands. He turned your head so you were looking him in the eye.

“Hey, focus on me,” he instructed calming, his deep, slow voice sending waves of calm throughout your body. “You’re going to be alright, Y/N. Just breathe with me.”

In your semi-conscious state, you still managed to copy Taehyung’s movements. You listened as Taehyung inhaled slowly, and you did the same. When he exhaled, his breath tickled your nose. You followed in suit, scrunching your nose at the sensation.

Eventually, when your breathing slowed and your panic subsided, Taehyung lowered you slowly back onto your bed. Once he joined you, he pulled the thick covers over your bodies, surrounding them with warmth.

Instinctively, you rolled over so you were partially lying on Taehyung’s chest. His arms moved around you immediately, and he began rubbing circles into your back.

His chest started to rumble as he sang quietly to you, his sonorous voice enveloping your senses. Soon, you were submersed in Taehyung, and you began to drift back to sleep felling safe in his arms.

Before sleep claimed you completely, you heard Taehyung stop singing.

“I love you,” he whispered, even though he knew you wouldn’t remember it in the morning.

You woke to a tickling sensation against your lips. As your mind caught up with your body, you became aware of Taehyung tracing your features gently with the pads of his fingertips. Slowly, you opened your eyes.

Taehyung’s face was only inches away from yours. His lips were tipped upwards in a gentle smile, and his eyes were fond as he looked at you. In the morning light, his tanned skin was glowing.

“Morning,” he smiled, his voice deeper than usual.

“Guh mernin,” you mumbled back, your speech muffled by Taehyung’s thumb, which he was using to trace your lower lip. His other arm was pinned underneath you, you came to realize, and your legs were tangled together with his.

“Did you sleep okay?” Taehyung asked, his voice light but edged with concern.

“Mhm,” you replied, your eyes slipping shut again. They opened when realization dawned on you. “Oh my god, did I have another night terror?”

“Yeah, but you calmed down pretty quickly,” Taehyung said, his tone placating. “Don’t worry about it.

“I’m so sorry,” you groaned, grabbing Taehyung’s free hand and threading your fingers in between his. “Did I scream? I know they’re scary to watch.”

“I get more worried than scared,” Taehyung laughed. His eyes fluttered shut, his long lashes fanning against his golden cheeks. His mouth pulled down into a slight frown. “At the end of it, I’m just glad you’re okay. It’s upsetting, though, that one day I might not be able to calm you down.”

You pressed a gentle kiss to the hand you held in yours. “I can’t remember what happens, but I know that I always feel safe with you,” you smiled. “I’m so grateful, you can’t even imagine, Tae. When I was younger, I’d never sleep through the night. I’d always wake up scared. But now, when I wake up with you beside me, I feel completely at ease.”

Taehyung pulled his hand from yours and enveloped you completely in a hug. His large frame smothered yours, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Taehyung smiled, too–you could hear it in his voice when he spoke.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” Taehyung whispered. “I’ll always keep you safe.”

“I love you, too,” you replied, your voice almost lost since you were pressed against the crook of Taehyung’s neck. “And I trust you.”

In moments like this, wrapped up in Taehyung’s arms and his ceaseless affection, you weren’t sure where you ended and where Taehyung began. All you knew is that, somehow, Taehyung had made your heart his home, and his embrace was yours.

- Girl in Luv

Thank you so much for requesting! This probably isn’t what you were asking for exactly, but I hope you still like it. I’m not sure if this is how night terrors actually work. I was gonna write about nightmares, since I have them 24/7, but that requires more plot and tbh I’m going to fall sleep any minute. So yeah, I hope you all liked it! 💛

anonymous asked:

How do you think Hannibal would handle food rations? Like being stranded on a boat for two weeks with nothing to eat but canned beans and crackers?

Okay, SO.  I personally fall into the “Hannibal has some food insecurity issues based on childhood deprivation” camp.  All the performative cooking of a grand feast for twelve that’s actually for two, or a feast for six that’s just for himself? Sure, that’s partly the Hannbibal Lecter Asshole #Aesthetic, but also, dude needs on a cellular level to know that he has enough food available to feed at least ten people, at any moment in time.  (And no, killing three of the people and feeding them to the other seven doesn’t satisfy that need, although it would be fun in its own right.)

Which is to say that it actually surprises him how much he doesn’t care, the first couple of weeks on the run, that they’re living on whatever scanty provisions they cobbled together as they went plus whatever they can fish or hunt.  Hannibal would tell you that he’s living on the glories of being able to see / touch / talk to / get sassed by Will Graham 24/7.  Who needs food?  Who needs air?

(Will would tell you that Hannibal is high as a kite on stolen morphine most of the time those first couple of weeks and also possibly hallucinating a bunch with fever.  He’s not so much being sustained by love alone, as the morphine’s killing his appetite, and Will’s spending like three hours a day trying to get some damn canned soup into Hannibal in between the recitations of Italian poetry.  Believe whichever version you prefer.)

That said, that was clearly a Special Occasion.  (A very special occasion.  It probably features in the wedding vows, somehow.)

If for some reason Hannibal were food deprived at some other point in time, he would not take it nearly as well.  There would be crankiness.  There would be melodramatic declarations.  There would be endless discussion of the meals he would be making at that very moment, if he could.  If Will’s around, that happens out loud - otherwise, he might retreat into his memory palace and throw his hangry tantrum there while calmly ignoring people in the outside world.

All of it is mostly just a cover for the steady, menacing drumbeat of panicked memory.  He’s been really truly hungry and he knows this isn’t it - this would have been a luxury of riches at one time - but it stirs up the associations that he would prefer un-stirred.

Which is to say that dude’s go-bag for sudden escapes probably contains some really goddamn fancy snacks so he’s never caught hungry on the run again.

Yo, so, what are you guy’s favourite childhood books? 

For my upcoming Photography exam I am working on a shoot featuring connected images that all-together make up the story of childhood books.

I’ve so far got: Peter Pan, Harry Potter, and A Series Of Unfortunate Events.

I can’t think of what else to do, and that mainly has to do with the fact that I enjoyed Edgar Allen Poe more than actual books for children…

Alright, so I’m going to elaborate on my Yuriy (Tala) and Wolborg headcanon/idea

Yes. So. Here goes. I’m going to expand a little on the canon tale that Aoki put up and tell you a little about what I think of Wolborg.

As we all know, Yuriy, before everything turned upside down for him, belonged to a beautiful family with loving parents - an ever smiling mother and a proud military man for a father. Now let me digress a little from canon here and delve into headcanon territory.

Yuriy had a mother by the name of Olga Ivanova. Olga, well before Yuriy was born, was a renowned ballet dancer. She had flaming red hair and a sharp tongue, which her son inherited from her and she was beautiful and graceful as a dancer. However, once Yuriy was born, Olga took it upon herself to raise Yuriy single-handedly while her husband was away on the frontlines, fighting for his country. All throughout his childhood Yuriy used to sit and watch while his mother twirled and danced on her toes, teaching her students the art of dancing ballet. It was a happy memory for him. He admired how his mother raised her arms and gently made her way across the dance-floor like a swan. 

Originally posted by ballet-is-passion

Now, coming back to canon, we know that Yuriy’s mother abandoned him eventually when she decided to escape from her abusive alcoholic husband. Poor Yuriy was too young to understand the repercussions of the same. He never knew where his mother went. All that was left of her with him were his memories - her smiling face when she danced and twirled around on the floor, often winking at him while he sat on the sidelines and cheered on his mother. 

When Yuriy was out on the streets, he and Boris (dub ,name Bryan) used to often play with wild wolves that would wander about the streets after escaping from a nearby forest, which is why Yuriy had always had a special connection with wolves. During that time he tried long and hard to look for his mother, but Olga had vanished. It was almost as if she never existed anywhere except in the recesses of his mind.

Originally posted by tvneon

Eventually, when Yuriy is accepted into the abbey, after severe conditioning and some degree of abuse, Yuriy completely loses his childhood memories. However, even as they do everything to snatch away his memories to make him the perfect soldier, he holds on to one memory in particular - the memory of his mother dancing ballet.

So when they start to create his bitbeast (as we know Wolborg is a created bitbeast), they patch up a link with his mind so that the bitbeast that suits him the most is concocted by the machine. With Yuriy having an affinity for wolves, naturally his bitbeast takes that form. However, while the process is ongoing, the machine that taps into his subconscious catches his memory of his mother dancing and channels it into the template of the bitbeast.

If you ever notice, when Wolborg is first released out of the beyblade, she first appears and then turns around ever so gracefully, before transforming into a wolf. MUCH LIKE A BALLET DANCER. MUCH LIKE OLGA IVANOVA. Notice.

And lo and behold, we have Wolborg. 

How’s that for a headcanon, fandom, for our redheaded baby?

Originally posted by anotherpetitedreamer

anonymous asked:

Fantasy mostly, but anything you feel is a must read.

Cool, I love fantasy too.

You can find a lot of my favorite books under the summer’s bookshelf tag on my blog, or in this werewolf rec list. Take older recs with a grain of salt. You can also find reviews and ratings on my goodreads account, and then there’s always the lucky dip of dogshit, my book rants blog.

But off the top of my head tonight - 

The Halcyon Fairy Tale Book, by T. Kingfisher. A collection of sporkings of old fairy tales, and intriguing new versions of fairy tales written by someone who loves people, loves gardening, and combines practicality with humor.

Moribito, by Nahoko Uehashi. Badass weary mercenary spear-carrying female protagonists is hired by the queen to protect a dainty magic prince from the emperor’s assassins. I read it and was like “where was this all my childhood? this must be how boys feel all the time.”

The Princess Curse, by Merrie Haskell. Clever, determined herbalist girl tries to save twelve cursed princesses and all the other people who tried and failed to break the curse. Twelve Dancing Princesses meets Persephone meets deliciously detailed worldbuilding.

can you guys imagine being so straight you actually think the het romance is the one thing the fans of the original show wanted to see in the Power Rangers movie??????

like… imagine thinking fans from all over the world who watched the show during their childhoods–in my, case up to 16 seasons of it–, who loved the fights and the villains and dramatic explosions, all sitting on the edge of their seats to see Kim and Jason kiss???? 

i should be doing homework but i can’t shake this off

Monday 8:27am
I woke up with you on my mind.
You called me babe last night —
my heart is still pounding.

Tuesday 10:53pm
Today I realized we won’t work.
What we are is hurting her.
And I think she matters more to me than you do.

Wednesday 11:52pm
I broke things off with you today.
She barely said a word.
I’ve never regretted anything more than this.

Thursday 4:03pm
I shouldn’t have sent that message.
You shouldn’t have been so okay with receiving it.

Friday 9:57pm
I almost messaged you today.
I didn’t.

Saturday 8:49pm
I’m walking around town in search of alcohol.
They say that liquor numbs the pain of having a broken heart.
I want to put that to the test.

Sunday 2:32am
I heard you texted a girl you’ve never spoken to before.
I wonder if it’s because you’re trying to replace me.
I can’t help but wish you weren’t.
I thought I was irreplaceable.

—  a week with you on my mind, c.j.n.