i love the nineties

The word “phandom” is honestly so complicated and weird. Like, it’s mostly used by Dan and Phil fans who stole it from Danny Phantom which came out in 2004, who stole it from Phantom of the Opera which literally came out over a hundred years ago (not to mention the phantom fan base was called the “phandom” even in the nineties) and I love how the word has so much history and belongs to so many things to the point where nobody knows who’s talking about what


endless list of favourite characters: 3/?
jemma simmons  ➜  marvel’s agents of shield

“i’m not saying you were weak, i’m saying all men are weak!”

And I get it. I get why you were so scared of us now. Because – shit. Because you lost Wallace and it gutted you and I thought I figured out why and that felt like metal in my throat, and I realised I couldn’t drop you if I wanted to, ‘cause you were saying you didn’t even know what love feels like and I was just thinking,

you idiot,

you asshole,

it feels like this.


- in celebration of Ninety One Whiskey - @cuddlebabies

Aesthetic: Anya + Jenny friendship

I wrote you ninety-three poems,
one for each time I felt larger
than life, more beautiful than
the moon that shaped your back.

Each of them talked about
crumbling skies, rolling oceans,
devouring suns, and the old-as-time
stories of heroes meeting their demise.

You never believed in such myths,
but you clung to the iron will of
human softness, human love,
and human eyes –

You believed in sailing the sea
of my plain blue walls,
and you threaded between my
poetry and my truths,

You are no more Juliet,
No more Ophelia,
No more Persephone,
than the sun is the moon.

In the words of Edna St. Vincent Millay,
“Love is not all.”
I swallowed those four words
into my star-filled rib cage,
even though it tasted of unknown worlds.

—  larger than myths, brighter than poetry // [p.v.]
How Times Have Changed

Back when I was a child, I used to spend every summer in Mexico with my grandparents.  They lived in a mountainous region where water supply wasn’t guaranteed and storms frequently knocked out power.  TV was limited to 3, maybe 4, channels and one of them was news only.  Bleh. 

It was there that I discovered my first love: early nineties Sailor Moon.  I managed to catch most of Sailor Moon R.  I remember it aired on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays at 3pm.  

My favorite character was Sailor Jupiter.

Originally posted by fyeahsailormoon

Here she is being the best Sailor Scout by punching a bad guy with her fist.  Look at her face!  *happy sigh*  

When she wasn’t busy saving the world, she spent her time gardening and cooking.  How adorable!  

Aaaaaaand she also had the coolest attack power.  Sailor Moon’s attack took about five minutes to build compared to Jupiter’s measly five seconds, but I loved it.

Originally posted by loveandjustice

That’s right!  Sailor Jupiter had awesome lightning powers.  A little antenna would pop out of her tiara and lightning would crash from the sky for her to channel for her attack.

Jupiter Supreme Thunder is such a classic move.

Anyway, the point I’m trying to make is that I am a grown up and I am no longer that interested in characters that punch bad guys and attack with lighting.  Because TIMES HAVE CHANGED!

Let’s talk about Kakasaku!  

Their child would be amazing!  I bet their daughter would punch bad guys and attack with lightning jutsu…


Wait.A. Minute.

Originally posted by neonanything


The Middle Ages Were Trippy As Fuck, Exhibit Seven Hundred And Ninety Something- I’ve Lost Count Somebody Get Me A Cold Compress

One of the things I love about medieval Europe was that Scotland was just one of those places where weird trippy magic was expected to happen and where writers and rumour-mongers as a result set their stories. How many legends of knights finding strange wonders over there are to be found in medieval literature, how many ridiculously tall tales that people took at face value because they’d never been there and just kind of went ‘Well they said it was Scotland, I hear that kind of thing happens there all the time’.

I feel like it was literally the medieval equivalent of the circle in ‘That 70s Show’ where some Frenchman high off whatever the kids were smoking in the 1430s, leans forward and goes, ‘Did you know- there’s like a horse that shits rainbows man, they’re trying to hide it from us, but like it totally exists guys, yeah it’s in Scotland- it’s in Scotland man’.

Better yet the Scots themselves were kind of aware of this? Mostly because tourists kept coming up to them and asking where the rainbow-shitting horses were, probably, but an image does spring to mind of some Scottish farm labourers in like East Lothian or somewhere and swapping stories. 

‘I heard there was a rainbow-shitting horse.’

‘Yeah I heard that too. Bet it’s in the Highlands though.’

‘Those northerners get all the good stuff.’ *Shakes fist in vague direction of the Mounth*

Thing is, you think I’m making this up, I’m not. Well not completely- it wasn’t actually a rainbow-shitting horse and not quite Highland but still. 

Aeneas Sylvius- the future Pope Pius II- came over on a visit in the 1430s and on the whole was not particularly impressed. Though that may have been partially due to the fact he nearly died of hypothermia (that’s a story for another time) he was also a little disappointed to find out that in this frostbitten country with its porky king he couldn’t even visit the wonder he’d been told of. 

Now at whatever strange parties he’d been attending in Italy he’d heard that there was a special tree which grew beside a river Somewhere In Scotland. This tree bore duck-shaped fruit and when the fruit fell, if it fell to the earth it shrivelled and died, but if the fruit fell in the water, though it would sink at first, it would then suddenly bounce up and turn into a duck which would then fly away. (Yes literally. A fucking tree that grows ducks. I want whatever he had to drink.) When he got to Scotland, however, he was continually told that this miracle occurred in the north, with the location getting further each time, until eventually he had to accept the report of the Scots that they’d heard it was in Orkney. 

Needless to say Aeneas was a tad disappointed but this isn’t the only example of the wide influence of foreign writers and story-tellers who, whenever they needed somewhere to set their strange tale or needed a far-flung mysterious land to compare something strange to, would often simply use ‘Scotland’. Other countries were sometimes used- and you’ve kind of got to wonder a) why they didn’t just go for somewhere even further north or west like Iceland or Ireland, though I’m not saying that sometimes didn’t happen too. Also, b) why did we not capitalise on this and make loads of money off fake duck-bearing trees. In fact I might just do it myself.

Moral of the story- don’t believe everything you hear, especially if it’s just fucking trippy and set in Scotland, but also be aware that medieval Scotland could get pretty trippy at times without even all the weird tales.


“But what I love about football is that it brings people together across religious divides, geographic divides, political divides. I love the fact that for ninety minutes in a rectangular piece of grass, people can forget hopefully, whatever might be going on in their life, and rejoice in this communal celebration of humanity. The biggest diverse, invasive or pervasive culture that human kinds knows is football and I love the fact that at the altar of football human kind can come worship and celebrate.“

jenny’s heart eyes for giles are so much quieter and subtler but still very very poignant and present and she literally never smiles even half as much at anyone as she does with him and when she’s disoriented and vulnerable she always turns to him and touches him and idk i don’t know if anyone ever loved giles as much or put him first in the same way that jenny did