#Warning everyone in advance

[sunsetsandsunshine]

In a couple hours Arcane S2 comes out……………………….

[amethystsoda]

going to see Suzume after work, so be prepared for movie spam tonight 🫶🫶🫶

[ghoulspaw]

hiii hiiiiiiiii hhi!!!! Hiiiiiiiii!! Hi! hiiiiiiiii [detonates]

[gio-cosmo]

BLACKWELL ACADEMY MENTIONED‼️ DOUBLE MOONS MENTIONED‼️ BLUE BUTTERFLY MENTIONED‼️

[unionizedwizard]

randomly remembering that i spent like. 10 years? 5/6 to 15/16 yo. wearing literal 19th to early/mid 20th century nightgowns on a daily basis in the warmer months (april-september). for some reason. like floor-length white gowns with embroidered collars and all. there were various models and colors and lengths and shit. they were passed on to my mother by the 10000000000 Ancient Italian Ladies she was learning her italiaboo ways from and like, all of these gowns were genuine period pieces their mothers and aunts and even grandmas (!) had worn when they were my age. (you know like. the eternal condition of "children's clothes get less worn down than adults' clothes since they usually grow them out pretty quickly"). and since they ALL had heaps of Old Unwanted Clothes in their attics (acute case of "never throw anything away" syndrome) they were ELATED to have found a victim period clothing enthusiast and dumped entire suitcases worth of various Ancient Attire on my mother (and, relatedly, on me). and then i wonder why everyone thought i was WEIRD!!! i was talking like urianger AND dressing like him too!!!

[verdiesque]

I wish I'd never told my parents about the graduation ceremony

[howlsofbloodhounds]

was listening to a video about a brief summary of the Trojan war and like i think her name was Cassandra, the prophet Apollo gave the gift to see the future but cursed her to never be believed and seen as crazy by her peers for rejecting him, her story just made me sad

[wizardofgoodfortune]

Gonna go ahead and ask you #58 on your Spotify wrapped while I'm thinking about it

#58 on my top songs is mirrorball by taylor swift! this is definitely one of my fav songs from her, if not The Favorite; a vivid music video plays out in my head every time i listen to it. here's my favorite part from it, which can definitely lend itself to particular dreamling scenarios... like 1989.

And they called off the circus, burned the disco down When they sent home the horses and the rodeo clowns I'm still on that tightrope I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me I'm still a believer but I don't know why I've never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try I'm still on that trapeze I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me

---

When his stranger didn't show up in 1989, Hob spent the whole day waiting for him. The whole night, too. He heard the last call but stayed long after, until the bartender—Ian was his name, Hob learned at one point—had to kick him out so they could lock up. To Ian's credit, he did it with his most apologetic face.

"Sorry, Hob," Ian said as he locked up the front door of the tavern. "Feel free to come back 'round tomorrow. Promise the place'll still be here by then."

Hob, who was hovering listlessly beside him, gave him a smile. "You'll regret you said that."

Ian laughed. "I'll never regret having more regulars. God knows we need it."

Hob frowned. Right. He nearly forgot about that.

"Need a lift?" Ian offered, fishing out a different set of keys from inside his pockets. "You've drunk quite a lot."

"I'm fine, I just need to��" Hob took a deep breath, "—I need to walk it off."

Ian narrowed his eyes. "Sure? I better not read about you in the papers tomorrow."

Hob snorted. "Trust me, you won't."

With that, Hob stood in front of the tavern and watched Ian drive off, until the old man rounded a corner and disappeared.

Now that he was alone, Hob slumped down on the damp ground and leaned against the front door. They've probably replaced this door more times than he could count, along with the rest of the tavern. Century after century, Hob saw less and less of what used to be here 600 years ago: the chairs, the tables, the mugs, the godawful drinks. The closest thing to permanence this tavern had was its name, and, up until tonight, his stranger. And soon, it wouldn't even have itself.

Hob reached into his coat pocket and took out his lighter and a carton of cigarettes. As he watched London's everchanging skyline glitter above the Thames, he lit a cigarette, the orange of it glowing in the dark. He sat there, waiting, waiting, waiting. He was good at that, at waiting. All you had to have for waiting was time, and Hob had it in abundance. So he waited until the sun rose, until the streets came alive with cars and people, until Ian came back to open up.

"Oi, what happened to walking it off?!" Ian exclaimed, standing over Hob, shielding him from the noon sun. "Bloody hell. C'mon now. Up you go."

Hob let himself be corralled into the tavern's small office and be sat at the small couch that was probably meant for interviews and terminations. He drank the water and aspirin placed in front of him, and he wore the spare shirt lent to him, but he left Ian's questions unanswered.

"Y'know," Hob started as soon as Ian came back in from the bar, "I reckon I could do a good job running a tavern."

"You should be asleep," Ian said accusatorily.

Maybe he should've been. But instead, Hob was sitting upright, wide awake. "I've been in countless taverns, just like this," he continued, "and I reckon I could make a great one. It would be so great that people from all over the world would come to eat and drink there, and say, 'Hey look, it's Hob's tavern, the greatest one around!' And d'you know what the best part about it would be?"

Ian sighed and leaned on his desk. "What?"

"It would be so great that they'd never close it down. They wouldn't be able to. Everyone would rally around it, even the council. And it'd be there for, for centuries. No, millennia. No, forever."

Ian shook his head, smiling. "A beautiful dream."

"A dream?" Hob scrunched his eyebrows. "You don't believe me?"

"Hob, this tavern has been here for centuries. That's a pretty good run, I'd say. Before that, it might've been something else, like a house, or a barn, or something. And before that, it was probably an empty plot of land, or maybe it was full of trees. Maybe bloody dinosaurs lived and died here. Or maybe it was underwater, I dunno. But I'm getting away from the point," Ian said, scratching his scraggly beard. "The point is: things change. That's life."

Suddenly, Hob was reminded of that night a hundred years ago, how his stranger detested the implication that he changed, that he grew to be lonely, lonely enough to seek out companionship. Hob's companionship. Obviously he detested the implication enough to not show up yesterday. But maybe, just maybe, his stranger will show up again today or the next day, just to prove a point, just to say he didn't need him to be his friend, and to say goodbye for the last time. Surely his stranger's not cruel enough to not show up at all, right?

"I, I know, but I can't let this place change, at least not yet," Hob said. His desperation must've plain on his face from the way Ian smiled sadly at him.

"And why's that?"

"My friend and I," Hob paused, thinking about what to say, "this place is important to us."

"You can always find another place."

"He won't," Hob said, voice breaking, "he won't be able to find me."

"How sure are you that he won't?"

Hob put his head into his hands. "I'm sure."

"You don't have his number?"

Hob shook his head.

Ian sighed. "Well, like I said last night, you'll need a lot of money to—"

"I have the money," Hob blurted out.

"What's that?"

"I," Hob repeated, raising his head in realization, "I have the money."

Ian only looked at him.

"I can, I can keep this place alive until he comes back."

Ian regarded him wordlessly for a few more seconds, then said, "I appreciate the thought, I do, but I reckon you can just establish a new one and it'll be less expensive. You can always, I dunno, put up some signs. 'This way to the new tavern' or something. Then when your friend comes around, they'll just read your sign and go to the new tavern."

Hob stared at Ian, mouth hanging open. Then he laughed, feeling a sleep-deprived lightness in his chest. He stood up and held Ian by his shoulders, still smiling. "Ian, you're a genius."

Ian chuckled heartily. "I try."

"And you're a hired genius."

"Pardon?"

"I'll need a bartender for the new tavern," Hob said, grinning.

Ian scoffed in disbelief, but he was smiling. "And what'll you name it?"

Hob thought for a second, then settled on: "The New Tavern."

Ian chortled. "You need sleep. Dearly."

---

send me a number and i'll write something based on the corresponding song in my spotify wrapped!

[governmentmandatedryujinstan420]

i can't believe i come back momentarily from the dead and it's with more cancerous memes. Two versions bc god had other plans, none which included not having both of these.

[reshramlove1ob]

Chat I'm not too sure about this next chapter of My Sunshine. Not because it's bad or anything, in fact I like it, but I think I'll have to change the rating from Teen to Mature becuase of it

[owlf45]

I'm the birthday bitch today, and you know what that means

[ghostpunkrock]

I hate this city and this city hates me but at least I am back in my own apartment where I can drink whatever I want and watch whatever I want on tv

[mellotronmkll]

Having a horrible day my flight got cancelled and i now will have many hours of layovers and im very upset so you're going to see a lot of they might be giants on your dash today

[roscoehamiltons]

i'm still scrolling and catching up but i'm thinking if i should even watch the race at all...

[daz4i]

someone please send me sleepy vibes i need to sleep but i don't . wanna 💔