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cuubism · 2 years

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some (semi)crack-treated-seriously for @magnusbae, featuring Hob (accidentally) rescuing Dream, the awkwardness of summoning your naked crush into your living room, and Hob being absolutely ride or die and ready to kill people at a moment's notice

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It was pure luck that brought Hob to the antiquities sale. Later, he would wonder if perhaps Fortune herself was also an entity, and had been looking out for the Dreams which so often brought her to fruition.

Hob found the poster for the thing by chance when he stumbled over a curb on his way home and nearly faceplanted into a lamppost. And it was similarly by chance that Hob was available that night. By chance, it was not far from his home. So many moments of happenstance stacking up into a bit of luck he’d be grateful for for the rest of his life.

Hob was always interested in any supposed magical artifacts. He knew that magic of some kind existed – no matter that his Stranger refused to tell him anything about himself, Hob was well-aware that he was not human and held powers of some kind – but it could be hard to discern real from fake. Hence, his habit of attending whatever strange auctions might pop up – more for curiosity’s sake than for the need to buy anything.

This sale was different.

This sale had something Hob recognized.

He froze in front of the display case, grip going tight around his glass of wine. Behind the glass panels of the case, a familiar ruby pendant glimmered. It caught the light strangely, reflecting prismatic bursts of rainbow in obliquely wrong directions, and that alone would have immediately alerted Hob to its not being a normal ruby even if he hadn’t been intimately familiar with its proper owner.

Where the hell was his Stranger?

Hob had only seen the man—being—six times, and therefore couldn’t make a wholesale judgment that he never went anywhere without the ruby, but he knew for sure the Stranger wouldn’t have let it wind up here, about to be delivered into the hands of any asshole with enough money.

So where was he?

Disturbed, Hob returned to his seat, waiting for the sale to start. He was tempted to simply break the glass and take the gem, but getting arrested wasn’t particularly on his list of fun things to do on a night out. So he’d have to do things the legal way.

One benefit of being extremely old: Hob had a lot of money to throw around. And while something in him rankled at having to buy something that was clearly stolen from his friend, he had bigger concerns.

Concerns that rattled around his mind as he walked home, ruby tucked safely in his pocket. Concerns whose screaming rose to a fever pitch as he sat down at his kitchen table, looking at his Stranger’s gem under the lemony kitchen lights.

It felt warm in his hands, the cut edges of the gemstone surprisingly smooth. The crimson at the heart of the jewel’s many faces was full-bodied as an old wine and deep as the sea; easy to get lost in.

Hob tore his attention away, looking instead at the empty apartment. The pendant chain pressed into his hands as he held it tighter, the jewel growing ever-warmer between his palms.

“Where are you, Stranger?” he murmured to himself. Hob had no way to contact him, and there were forty years yet before they were meant to meet – if his Stranger even decided to show up. “I hope you’re alright; I hope this”—he squeezed the gem—“doesn’t mean something horrible’s happened.”

He sighed. “If only you were here.”

The room shifted around him, like Hob had taken two steps backward in time and changed direction. Hob might not have even noticed if he hadn’t been staring absently in the direction of the living room at the precise moment that his Stranger appeared on the couch.

Hob jumped so high he banged his knee on the underside of the table. His Stranger seemed equally baffled, looking at his own hands, touching the fabric of the couch as if unsure it was real, then finally looking up at Hob with wide eyes.

Hob stared back at him, breath quickening. Somehow—he could only assume—the magic ruby had fulfilled his wish and summoned his Stranger here, but why was he naked? Oh God, this was Hob’s fault for having one too many… uh… dreams—

“Hob Gadling,” murmured his Stranger, voice hoarse but with wonder in it. “You have rescued me.”

“How?” This was all a lot to take in, but Hob went over to him anyway, pulling a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapping it around his bare shoulders. It was unnerving to see him so… unrefined. Disheveled. Hair a mess and body unprotected. “Wait, rescued from what?”

His Stranger’s gaze zeroed in on the ruby, still lying on the kitchen table. Hob wondered if he might be angry, but he just tilted his head in curiosity. “Now, just where did you come across that?”

“Um.” Hob forcibly tore his attention from the narrow line of his Stranger’s neck and shoulders – had he always been that thin under all those fine clothes? Had he eaten at all recently? Rescued from where? – and back to the gemstone. “Bought it. Just a few hours ago. No idea where it was before that. Knew it was yours, though. But no way to get it back to you.” Shit, he was rambling.

“And you used its power to summon me.”

Hob rubbed at the back of his neck. “That… wasn’t intentional. Though, I mean, probably would’ve been if I’d known you needed summoning.”

His Stranger stood, walking on wobbling legs – again, Hob wondered with deepening concern, rescued from where – blanket wrapped around him like a cape, to pick up the ruby from the table. A shudder ran through him as soon as he touched it and he seemed to stand straighter, taller. “How did you use it?”

“Just— just wished you were here so I could make sure nothing horrible had happened.”

His Stranger’s mouth tipped up into that tiny, fond smile Hob had seen so rarely but missed so dearly. “So you could make sure nothing horrible had happened?”

“Hey, you yourself just said you were rescued. Was I wrong?”

“No.” His voice was resigned now. He turned back to Hob, still holding the ruby. It looked far more fitting in his elegant hands than in Hob’s. “You have pulled me from an unjust imprisonment, and recovered one of my tools. I owe you a great debt.”

“You owe me nothing, friend.” Hob cringed internally as the word slipped out, but his Stranger didn’t deny him this time. “I would do it again. Though I’m still not entirely sure what I did.”

His Stranger sat down at the kitchen table. He must have been exhausted, mustn’t he? Who knew how long he’d been imprisoned. God.

Feeling restless at the thought, Hob busied himself making tea, as his Stranger explained, “The ruby contains some of my power. In the hands of humans, it can… bend certain happenings. I am grateful it was not in your possession for longer; it has the tendency to drive men mad.”

Great, Hob thought, of course it does. Kind of like you, my friend. Not that Hob had ever claimed not to be mad, from the start. “Does it usually summon whole beings, though?”

“No. It is curious… I will have to explore this more at a later time.”

Hob placed two cups of tea on the table, nudging one towards his stranger until he, reluctantly, took it. Though as soon as his skin touched the warm ceramic, he wrapped his fingers tightly around it.

“Are you alright though, my friend?” Hob asked, sipping on his own tea. He kept his tone low, casual, gentle, anything not to scare him off. But could he be scared off? Could he actually do whatever sort of quick, magical departure he usually did to disappear before Hob could possibly follow him out of the White Horse? The thought that he might not have the power for it made Hob a little sick to his stomach. “I don’t know the circumstances of this… imprisonment… but I would like to know if you’re alright.”

“I am… alright,” said his Stranger, in a tone Hob did not believe whatsoever, “but I am yet to be truly free. Your use of the ruby sprung me from Burgess’s glass prison, and restored some of my powers, but the binding circle remains intact. Without breaking it, I am bound here.”

Hob gripped his mug so hard it started to burn his fingers. Fuck whoever this Burgess guy was. And he knew, just knew, that his Stranger was downplaying by several orders of magnitude how awful it had been. What gave this guy the gall to capture a being like his Stranger, a being so beyond their mortal plane?

A being so… exquisite. So independent. So free.

“So you have to head back to break it, is what you’re saying?” Hob asked, shaking himself.

“Yes.”

“Well, alright, then,” said Hob, taking a fortifying gulp of his tea. “Then I’m coming with you.”

His Stranger looked—to the extent he ever made such an expression—alarmed. “No.”

“Yes. I’m not letting you walk back into a place you were imprisoned with no backup.” Hob crossed his arms. “As you may know, I’m a fair hand with all manner of weaponry.”

The stubbornness settling on his Stranger’s face ceded into amusement. “I am sure.”

“So that’s settled, then.”

His Stranger didn’t protest again. Hob wondered when the last time was that anybody had tried to help him. How long had he been in there?

“If you come along, you may not like what you see,” cautioned his Stranger.

“Are you saying you’re going to wreak horrible vengeance on them? Cause yeah, I’d hope so. You better save one for me, though.”

Again, his Stranger looked startled, but Hob just grinned.

“So, are we going now, or do you want a fortifying supper first?”

His Stranger was starting to look as whiplashed as Hob had felt when he’d suddenly appeared. “You would… feed me… supper?”

“Can’t go around killing people on an empty stomach.” Besides, Hob thought, more tenderly, you look like you need some care.

But his Stranger shook his head, coming back to himself. “We must not tarry. I do not know how my realm has fared in my absence.”

“We’ll grab a meal later, then,” Hob said easily, and was rewarded with a tiny nod and smile.

He stood, and offered his Stranger a hand up. Their gazes met, and Hob caught a glimpse of that same wonder he’d seen briefly before, when his friend had just been summoned. Confusion and hope at having a hand held out to him. Hob just smiled at him in return.

After a moment, the Stranger took Hob’s hand, pulling himself to his feet with a strength Hob hadn’t expected after such an imprisonment. He clasped the ruby pendant around his neck, and it lay gleaming against his bare sternum. Hob suddenly had to look away.

“We should, ah.” He had to pause to cough, and could just see his Stranger smirking out of the corner of his eye, the devil. “We should probably get you some trousers first.”

#the sandman #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing #listen magnusbae and i have a lot of insane crack headcanons and this is nowhere NEAR the worst #not even close

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make-me-your-animal · 8 days

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I promise I'm normal about these two

#im not #not even close #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #danny wagner #daniel wagner

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hooked-on-elvis · 2 months

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Love Me Tender (1956); Loving You (1957); Jailhouse Rock (1957); King Creole (1958); GI Blues (1960); Flaming Star (1960); Blue Hawaii (1961); Girls! Girls! Girls! (1962); It Happened At The World's Fair (1963); Fun In Acapulco (1963); Frankie and Johnny (1966); Spinout (1966); Clambake (1967); Charro (1969); The Trouble With Girls (1969), Change of Habit (1969).

Source: theelvisfiles.com

#those are still not all of elvis' movies #not even close #okay half of them #elvis presley #elvis #elvis the king #elvis fans #elvis fandom #elvis history #50s elvis #60s elvis #elvis movies #elvis films #elvis photos #50s movies #60s movies

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kangaruthi · 1 year

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#if harrow popped up in the riverdaleverse and started necromancing out of the blue #she wouldn’t even crack the top 10 weirdest riverdale residents honestly #not even close #harrowhark nonagesimus #the locked tomb #art #digital art #fanart

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sydneyadamuhusband · 9 months

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Oh yeah i love their very platonic and very healthy realationship, thanks for asking :)

#its not platonic #not even close #sydrichie #sydney adamu #richie jerimovich #sydney x richie #richie x sydney #they’re so angsty

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marlynnofmany · 10 months

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Just a Rock

For all the time I’ve spent traveling through space, I haven’t spend much of it actually out in space. It’s unsettling. Inside the ship, I can forget how close the airless void is, how small our precious bubble of air. But outside, everything is black like some vast creature ate all the color in the universe first, then the air, and is now hungering for life forms too.

Sometimes those distant stars look like teeth.

These are the thoughts that tend to pop up when I’m in my exo suit, hoping that my thruster pack doesn’t run out of fuel before I make it back to the ship. But then an empty pack of chips will float by my visor, and I can refocus on business.

That’s how it happened today, at any rate. (And yes, “day” is a silly concept in the blackness of space.) We’d made a detour to see if we could pick up some extra funds by gathering salvage from a museum ship that had gone kablooey, but so far all we were finding was trash.

Paint jetted past in her own exo suit, upside-down to my frame of reference, then stopped to pull apart a jumble of carpet fragments. “They really did clear out the good stuff already,” she said over the radio. She swatted aside a drink cup with her tail, looking like a little space-suited dinosaur, a thought that kept me entertained for a good few seconds.

Captain Sunlight’s voice said, “Keep an eye out for scrap metal. That may already be gone too, but it’s worth a shot.” She was somewhere else in the drifting junk pile, or maybe back near the ship; I couldn’t tell. There was too much stuff in the way. This was a mildly alarming thought — out of sight meant out of safety — but I caught a glimpse of the Frillian twins posted as safety guards at the edge of the cloud, and my heartbeat settled a bit.

“Do you think anyone will buy some mildly used carpet?” Paint asked the captain. “It’s only in several pieces.”

“Let’s go with ‘no.’”

“What about some very exotic — what is this — napkins? Made with authentic Earth wood fibers!”

I looked over at that. “How can you tell?”

“Oh, I have no idea,” Paint said. She held up half of a wall placard. “But this is from the Earth exhibit, so maybe the napkins are too.”

I looked around at the trash in a new light. “Man, it’s a pity we weren’t here for any of the good stuff.”

“Yeah, and all these food packages are empty! We can’t even get you a slightly exploded taste of home!”

I waved my hand through a cluster of soda bottles. “I appreciate the thought.”

Paint jetted over to a different pile of whatever. “Hey, do you think any of this food trash was actually an exhibit? Packaging from olden days?”

“Uh, maybe,” I said. “Probably not. That’s not the sort of thing I’d expect on a multi-species museum ship. A janky little humans-only one, maybe. But even then, most people aren’t going to care.”

Something clunked against the back of my helmet. I hate that. Nothing like a reminder that I can’t see behind me like some species can. I toggled the jets to rotate in place, so I could find the offending object.

It was a rock.

“What’s this doing here?” I asked, closing a gloved hand around it and bringing it in for a closer look.

“What’d you find?” Paint asked, sticking out sideways from behind a twisted bench.

“A rock.”

“A meteorite rock?” she asked. “Oh hey, do you think it pierced the hull?”

“No, it doesn’t look like a space rock,” I said, turning the small gray-and-white lump over. It was mostly smooth, with a divot that would have fit a fingertip if I hadn’t been wearing the gloves. “Weird. I wonder if it was part of some Neolithic exhibit or something.”

“Can I see?” Paint jetted over to park herself in roughly the same orientation as me. She was very good with that jetpack.

I showed her the rock. “It doesn’t look like any gemstone I know. Maybe some kid had it in their pocket, then threw it away.”

Paint cocked her head. “Is that normal, for your young to carry rocks around?”

“Sure. You never picked up something you thought was neat as a kid?”

“Not a rock,” Paint said with exaggerated disdain. “A sweet-smelling seednut or herb, absolutely.”

“But look: it’s even got a little finger groove,” I pointed out. “You could stick it in a pocket and rub it for luck.”

“Could you?”

I smiled. “You could. You probably wouldn’t, but…”

“Why?”

I looked at the rock again, already fond of it. “I get the feeling that I couldn’t explain this to a point where you’d agree.”

Paint shrugged. “Probably not. But hey, we found you a souvenir after all. From probably the Earth section of whatever museum this is.” She grabbed a handful of colorful pamphlets drifting by. “The ‘Galaxy in a Bottle Museum Tour Ship.’ Who named that?”

My smile turned into a wide grin. “Humans.”

Paint grumbled about the unflattering comparison of an elite starship to a simple bottle. When she moved to toss the pamphlets away, I held out a hand.

“What’s that white one?” I asked. “It looks like a display sign.”

Paint flipped over the stack and separated the one I meant. “You’re right. Hey, it’s about a rock!”

I reached out a grabby hand. “Gimme.”

She passed it over. “Is it that rock?”

I read the title, then was gut-punched by familiarity. I’d heard about this. “Yes,” I managed, skimming the rest of the sign and holding the rock close. “This is Bethan’s Rock.”

“What?”

I fumbled to explain. “Ages ago, a kid visited a museum — a human kid — and learned what museums were for, then offered her favorite rock as a donation, so other people could appreciate it too.”

Paint cocked her head in the other direction. “And they took it?”

“Yes!” I must have looked a little wild at this point, but I didn’t care. “The adults agreed that it was a fine thing to donate, not to mention adorable, and the only one of its kind that I’ve ever heard of. More museums should house the occasional favorite rock, though I suppose they wouldn’t be as special if they did.”

“So just to clarify,” Paint said. “There isn’t anything valuable about this rock, except that one of your youths decided there was. And all the adults played along.”

I smiled down at it, careful not to let it drift away. “It’s the most precious non-precious stone I’ve ever seen.”

Paint stared for a moment. “It’s not even one of those shiny ones you like.”

I laughed. “I know!”

The captain called us back in at that point, having found one decent chunk of metal among the mountains of trash. We had a schedule to keep.

I folded the sign and tucked it into my suit pocket, but held the rock tight in my fist as I jetted toward the ship, working the controls with one hand. I was already thinking of the safest place in my quarters to keep it until we got ahold of the proper Earth museum authorities. Other humans would want to see Bethan’s Rock, after all, but it would be my honor to watch over it until they could.

~~~

(Inspired by this post. Long live Bethan’s Rock.)

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character of this book. More to come!

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sparklywaistcoat · 4 months

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I've been lurking in some discourse in another fandom, and for anyone who might need it, I'm just going to say some wisdom from Terry Crews:

You cannot simultaneously love someone and think you have the right to control them.

That's it. That's the post.

#abuse #controlling behavior #relationships #that's not love y'all #not even close #not gonna tag this #folks are welcome to reblog #and tag as you see fit

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derinthescarletpescatarian · 3 months

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Evan Klemp showing up to magic school for the express purpose of trying to get the evil dangerous magic out of his body after getting mad and attacking a peer with magic and his friends being like 'no that dude sucked, he deserved it' is just making me think of Kayden and Curse Words all over again.

#Kayden was never this sad #not even close #dimension20 #curse words

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dinodanicus · 16 days

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Here is a reworking of my neanderthal illustration. I was unhappy with some of the textures and hand of the original and decided to fix it.

#illustration #paleontology #paleoart #paleoillustration #prehistoric #neanderthal #mammal #scars #hominid #anthropology #not #a #dinosaur #not even close #beard

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dandanflowers · 2 months

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wonder hoyy or something like that idk

i've been playing project sekai lately and oh my i wonder in what team did i end up

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respectthepetty · 5 months

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I'm glad Tumblr let me learn that Mai was just wearing Jade's color all on my own.

So I could be perfectly normal about it.

The normal-est.

#Not being normal about it #not even close #Middleman's Love #color coded boys in love #the color exchange #it's been a long week and I just need my colors #and this was the best way to start #the colors mean things

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whiterexpper · 1 year

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I need to say …

Annabel gets so much fucking hate way too early on.

Yeah, she’s…basically playing everyone like a pawn, but step into her shoes for a second.

Not only does she find out that there’s only one life to have out of all the other students there, but she has to survive amongst her OWN team in the end, she has to make up a strategy along the get-go to save her and her lover, Lenore.

She knows her and Lenore have a past together, she has to make a plan drawn out long enough for Lenore to not only find an exit, but in secret as well. They have to go through hoops and stay along amongst their own groups just to be able to live together again. And, like Annabel stated, she doesn’t want that life is Lenore isn’t in it.

In the end, it’s just those two against everyone else but in such a way that they have to try and kill each other, or make it seem so.

Their own teams have a chance of turning on each of them, hell, even duke or some of the misfit could turn against Lenore because in the end, it’s ONE LIFE. Unless they think they can all try and escape, who knows?

But that’s besides the point, everyone hates on Annabel because she’s “not trustworthy” or “is playing Lenore and is just using her”

Annabel’s TWO freak outs in the SAME DAY because she thought Lenore didn’t make it through the maze trial isn’t enough to show you guys her devotion to her?

Annabel climbed out of a WINDOW and got caught amongst the losing students by the deans to find “her Lenore”. Her “pet”

She loves Lenore to the fullest and would do anything to be with her in the hellish trials of nevermore and people STILL think she’s the villain.

You’re forgetting that she also has to survive amongst the other students and also is at the mercy of the deans.

She can’t survive against them, she knows it. Which is why she plans on escaping instead.

Unbelievable.

UPDATE

seems that people are still hooked on hating her so I’m gonna add more

Does no one realize that they both have different views of each other?

Annabel is literally risking herself by lying to her own group about one another (aka. Prospero liking Ada but is shy, is what she told her. And how she didn’t step in for Ada and Morella against Montresor, but made it clear to him not to ignore her , not Morella or Ada. Bc he ignored her.)

It’s LITERALLY just her planning as she goes along, in the most recent chap that released, she stopped Lenore from the bell. There HAS to be a reason, you’re jumping on the horse too fucking early to judge her. She’s sincere with Lenore. And you’re ignoring that. Seriously, I’m not gonna tell those who hate Annabel what to do. But read into it a bit more and look at it from HER POV.

I’ll defend Annabel til the end of time , her being judged this early is bullshit but you’ll defend Montresor with what he does. (Yes, I’ve seen ppl support him. Some joke and that’s fine, it’s the others that fucking aren’t joking.)

Idk…

This is just me.

It’s dumb fuckery with how she’s still being blamed for being dead and literally has to be challenged to survive amongst other students trying to get one life while she works up a plan as she fuckin goes to escape w Lenore..

But no one sees that.

Not saying you have to change your opinion.

Just don’t be an ass and scream “I KNEW WE SHOULDNT HAVE TRUSTED HER. I WAS RIGHT.” Or “SHES A MANIPULATIVE BITCH, I KNEW IT.” No hun, your heads up your ass bc your one who judges too quickly. You take action first then think later lol and it says a lot about you.

I’ll make another Fuckin post about this too idc I’ll defend her for as long as this comic goes on.

THIS. PROVES. HER. LOVE.

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