#hob: yep. same shit as always

[cuubism]

I have been absolutely loving Bookstore Cryptid Dream! Offline life got rough for a bit there, but this little universe never failed to make my heart happy. Thank you - and I hope you're planning on more!

i've indeed had one in my drafts so i finished it up for you :)

--

Hob has been waiting with equal parts anticipation and trepidation to find out exactly what ideas Dream will pull from his romance novels. He still hasn't figured out why he picked romance novels as his manuals. Maybe he needs his sex positions to have narratives. Maybe he's into roleplay. God.

But Hob doesn't get to find out.

He's been busy for a few days--new term at the local uni starting up means the cafe's suddenly gotten busier--and while Dream's popped in and out a few times, they haven't had the chance to spend much time together. It's probably good, Hob tries to convince himself. Puts the brakes on things, just a little.

But when he finally gets a break, hands the reins over to his staff for an evening, he heads to The Library. Even if Dream is busy with his own tasks, Hob's content to just sit in his space. Listen to his stories. It's not something the busy cafe environment usually allows, but The Library is like an alternate world, cool, quiet, and timeless.

Hob strides up the steps and opens The Library door.

And there's nothing inside.

It takes several moments for his tired brain to comprehend what he's looking at, and several more for him to decide that no, he's not dreaming. He steps through the doorway into a dim, empty room, old wood-paneled walls and dust gathering in the corners, and no infinite winding paths of shelves like in Dream's bookshop. Just a shell.

Hob presses his palm to the wall. It's cool, and smooth, and very much real. Not some mad hallucination of his, this empty room.

Blinking hard, Hob steps back outside, closes the door again, as if that might change things. Opens it again. Same room. Does it again. Same room. He calls out into the empty bowels of the once-Library: "Dream!"

No answer, of course.

Hob had known that The Library had a sort of magic to it. But just vanishing into thin air...

And Dream wouldn't...

...would he?

Hob spins in place on the stoop, looking out on the darkened street which suddenly feels so much more eerie. He steps down to the road in a daze, looking around as if The Library might suddenly appear in another doorway. Resists the urge to yell Dream's name into the darkness.

And then, well, fuck it. "Dream!" he calls. All that echoes back to him is his own voice.

Hob sits down on the stoop, defeated. If he hadn't seen Dream just yesterday, kissed him on his way out of the cafe not twenty-four hours ago, he really might have started to think he'd hallucinated all of this. Invented someone he'd wanted to know.

But he didn't invent Dream, he swears he didn't--so then where is he?

Hob doesn't sleep much that night. He doesn't do much of anything else, either--it's not like Dream left a note to track him down, or any evidence of his existence. It's not like Hob can put up missing person posters: have you seen this bookshop? Or force it to reappear.

He's having a very sleep-deprived, very over-caffeinated morning shift in the cafe, contemplating how long one's not-quite-human not-quite-boyfriend needs to be not-quite-missing before it's reasonable to start finding out which parts of London harbor demons and sorcerers--when a man he's never seen before stops at the counter, hands folded before him, and says, "Excuse me, but do you know if there's a bookshop around here?"

Hob has never seen anyone else ever go into The Library or even acknowledge its existence, and Hob's anxiety is so high that he almost leaps over the counter to grab this man by the collar and demand, what do you know about Dream?! Fortunately he belays that impulse. This stranger really does look almost laughably harmless and definitely not like a demon or sorcerer, not that Hob's seen one--and getting arrested for assault is not going to help anything.

"I tried the door," continues the stranger, as Hob just keeps staring at him, conflicted, "only, well. It seems to have vanished."

Well, at least Hob's not hallucinating. Not that a disappearing bookstore is helpful to his sanity.

After what was surely a conspicuously long silence, though his visitor just waits patiently, Hob says, "Have... you been there before?" He feels weirdly defensive of The Library, even if it's currently AWOL. He doesn't know if he wants random people to be able to find Dream.

Or maybe that's just jealousy.

"Oh, no, this is my first time coming this way," says the man, apologetically. "I'm just looking for a certain book."

Damn odd timing for it.

Hob comes out from behind the counter and waves him over to a table. He should probably get some tea. Proper hospitality and all. But he's too worked up and way too sleep-deprived.

His guest sits down primly at the table as Hob slouches against the back of his own seat. "Sorry," Hob finally says, "if I'm--" he waves a vague hand. "Dream's had trouble before, that's all." He holds out his hand to his guest. "Hob."

The man shakes his hand. "Hm. A pleasure. I am Aziraphale. To any associate of--" he tastes the name, "Dream's, that is."

It's interesting that The Library's reputation carries further than knowledge of Dream himself, despite how deeply Dream seems to be tied to the shop.

"Is it meant to be there, then?" asks Aziraphale hopefully. "I wouldn't blame him for moving around to protect the collection; I certainly wouldn't want all and sundry picking through the shelves!" He shudders. "Though I was hoping to find that book."

Hob doesn't bother asking what book. Whatever it is, Dream will certainly have it. What's more important is--

"'Moving around?' Do you know how?" And then, realizing if he wants a chance at info he's going to need to offer some of his own, adds, "You just missed him, it's only today that The Library's been... gone."

"Oh, dear," says Aziraphale, now looking troubled.

"Not sure what pointed you towards this place, but if you've heard anything..." Hob continues, "Dream is my--" what is Dream, anyway? They haven't established it, "...friend."

Looking contemplative, Aziraphale says, "Well it is odd timing, now that you mention it, because--"

That's when the door to The Library flies open.

A lanky man comes hurtling down the steps, limbs akimbo, yelling something over his shoulder that Hob can't hear from within the cafe. "Oh dear," says Aziraphale again, with a mix of concern and consternation. "Crowley!"

Dream storms out of the doorway next, expression thunderous, his hair sticking up in all directions like he'd been struck by lightning. That has Hob lurching to his feet, which Aziraphale does as well, and they both rush outside, just in time to hear--

"Look, it's just one silly book, okay?" The unfamiliar man--Crowley, presumably--says, stopping in the middle of the road and turning towards Dream. "Don't overreact."

Dream is, in fact, clutching a singular heavy book, and looks like he's just about to hurl it, except that Dream would never do something so undignified as that, Hob thinks.

Dream hurls the book at Crowley.

Or not.

Crowley catches it against his chest, stumbling back with the weight. "I do not accept," spits Dream, each word the strike of a nail, "surreptitious rummaging in my library."

"Oh come on," says Crowley, tossing the book to Aziraphale, who's just caught up to him and who catches it with a surprised little umph! sound. Crowley makes a shooing sort of go on, run gesture to Aziraphale, which he doesn't heed. "It's not like I was going to burn the place down. You're just prejudiced against demons."

"I am prejudiced against thieves," hisses Dream. Hob finally reaches his side before he can throw another book or something, lays a hand on Dream's arm. Though all he's really thinking is, demons?!

"Crowley," Aziraphale admonishes. "Please tell me you did not." He finally looks at the cover of the book, and gasps. "Crowley."

Crowley shrugs. "You wanted it, he had it."

Hob frowns, confused. "You don't need to steal from The Library. It's not a museum. Just go in and buy it." Not that Hob's ever actually paid for any of Dream's books.

Both Crowley and Aziraphale turn to him. "One could not simply give away such an artifact," says Aziraphale, caressing the book's leatherbound cover.

"Least not for a steep price," says Crowley, which evidently justifies his trying to swipe it. "I won't be beholden to the likes of you." He points at Dream.

Dream looks affronted. "Now who is prejudiced?"

"Let's back up," Hob says, unsure how he became the voice of reason here. He still has a hand wrapped around Dream's arm, it's grounding after the way Dream had just vanished on him. "What happened? Dream-- I tried to come over and you were just gone." The empty room past The Library doorway is going to continue to be nightmare fuel.

Dream makes an apologetic little sound. "I apologize. I closed all access to The Library for its protection. As it turned out, my assessment of the threat was overstated." He glares at Crowley and adds, darkly, "I thought you were from the school board. Breaking in in the dead of night like so."

Hob momentarily gets stuck on the fact that Dream considers the local school board a greater threat than an actual demon from hell.

"Which," Dream continues, "was utterly unnecessary. You could have simply come to The Library as a visitor and sought out what you were looking for. It would have been granted."

"Oh, so I was just supposed to know you actually sell your books?"

"The books will find their rightful recipients," Dream says stiffly.

"Crowley, you have been very rude," says Aziraphale, though he hasn't given up the book, "I think you should apologize."

"Eh," says Crowley, waving this off. Hob supposes it wouldn't really be given to demons to apologize for things. "You apologize if you really want to."

Aziraphale turns to Dream with a sigh. "I am sorry for my companion's behavior. And... grateful for the book."

Dream nods solemnly at him. It seems his ire does not extend to Aziraphale.

Crowley leans back on his heels, closer to Aziraphale. "Mayyybee we should go now."

Aziraphale nods. "Quite." He tips his head at Dream, and then at Hob. "Thank you for your hospitality, Hob."

Then he turns and hurries away, Crowley slinking along beside him. As they leave, Hob hears Aziraphale admonish, "Do you know how few booksellers there are with truly rare volumes? We cannot afford to make such enemies."

"Yeah, you're welcome, angel."

"...Thank you."

Hob shakes his head in bemusement and turns back to Dream. He takes both of Dream's arms in his hands now, holding onto him, looking him over. Unable to fully vanish the lingering panic of The Library just being gone. "Are you alright? I was... worried. When you disappeared."

"I am annoyed," Dream huffs, like it's a greater point of suffering than any actual injury. Then he leans in close to Hob, pressing a hand to his chest. "I apologize. I did not intend to cause you distress. I had to shut the doors rather quickly, but I hoped to resolve the issue before you had cause to visit The Library."

"It's alright, love. I'm just glad you're okay." He kisses Dream, tentative for how new this all still is. Tastes lightning on his lips. Dream hums with pleasure.

When they pull apart, Hob wraps an arm around Dream's back, starts leading him back towards the cafe, or perhaps just to Hob's flat above. Tea solves everything. "So. The school board, eh?"

Dream sighs with the weight of the world on his shoulders. "They are enthusiastic about banning books."

Hob pulls him against his side, kisses his temple. "Dream against the world."

Dream grumbles, but leans his head on Hob's shoulder, and despite the many strange things of today Hob is going to have to internalize, he feels all soft inside at the gesture.

"Don't worry," he says, "next time your many enemies come calling, just yell and I'll create a diversion."

"And be waiting with tea after I've dealt with them?"

"Got it in one."

As they reach the door to the cafe, Dream turns his head to kiss Hob's shoulder. "You are good to me, Hob Gadling."

And Hob will keep being so. Even when the next strange thing happens.

#hob: yep. same shit as always #idk in what type school boards do or don't exist in the uk maybe that's just an american thing #also realized i never named Hob's cafe lol. i guess now it's just called The Cafe. like The Library #fitting for a man who named his tavern The New Inn #bookstore cryptid dream #my writing #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #ask #lunaris1013 #good omens #crowley #aziraphale

[gabzep]

Betrayal Outtake

Darius POV

When he first saw Peeta sitting at Sae’s stall he was curious as to why the baker boy was here, at the hob of all places.  One would think Peeta would have gone into hiding because of the nasty rumors going around regarding him, Delly and Thom.  But after Peeta told everyone what Delly had done to him they all felt sorry for the poor guy.  Life in the districts is hard enough without your own friends screwing you over. 

There’s really not much to do in district 12, so he reads when he’s not on duty.  That’s one thing he and Katniss have in common, books.  She gets them from Madge and his family will send him some from district 2 so they borrow from each other.  Afterwards they’d get together at Sae’s stall and share their opinions about the characters, what they liked or dislike and so on.  They are like their own little book club, members 2.  It still doesn’t stop Sae from throwing her opinion in every now and then.  So what happen to Peeta actually reminded him of a book they had read ‘Wolf’ something.  It was a college campus murder mystery.  The main girl was drugged twice but unlike Peeta she had friends that kept an eye out for each other.

This is not good he hadn’t heard of anything like this happening here before and he didn’t what anyone to get the idea that this was ok.  He needs to talk to Cray to see if they can charge Delly with something.  He heads over to Cray’s house and hopes he isn’t entertaining a guest.  He thinks it disgusting that Cray and some of the other Peacekeepers take advantage of the poor seam and on occasion merchant women desperate for money to keep their families going.  It’s nothing he could do about it; he’s heard this has been going on for decades.  Some even said it was worst in this district before Cray.  He knocks on the door.

“What do you want?” Cray yells as he opens the door.

He tells Cray about Delly drugging Peeta and the possible impact on the rest of the district if others decide to pull the same stunt. 

“Huh, sounds to me that idiot Delly slipped some sleep syrup in the white liquor.  It’s strong enough to mask the sweetness of the syrup.  Morphling wouldn’t have knocked him out after 3 drinks.  He’d be high but still awake.  Nothing we can do about it unless we trump up something else to charge her with.  Besides no one died or was physically hurt” said Cray.  He is about to disagree when Cray continues.  “Look, if we officially do something it will have to be reported.  I would have to include where and when it happened, every detail of that party that the kids had in that empty Victor’s House, which is illegal and would be seen as an 'organized meeting'.  Which to the Capitol that ‘meeting’ would be a more important” Cray said.

He goes on to explain that it’s better for district twelve that the Capitol ignores them and the best way to do that is by not bring in any attention to it.  Before he had taken over the head peacekeeper back then was vicious, there were plenty of hangings or executions by firing squad, daily whippings, and the stocks were always full.  It took a long time to get it to where it is today.  Reporting the people that died of starvation as executions, disabling the cameras, overlooking offenses such as Gale, Katniss and now Rory’s poaching along with the house parties the merchant kids have in the Victors Village.  Trying to prevent ‘mining accidents’ by not reporting the rebellious talk that he knows is going on down there.  He also mentions the unrest that has lead to uprising from districts 11 and 8 which has gotten worse since the 74th hunger games.

“We need to keep our heads down.  And I’m not about to whip or throw a teenage girl, who just had a baby two weeks ago into the stocks.” Cray concludes. “The paperwork alone isn’t worth it.”

“It doesn’t have to be official.  We need to do something to remind her and others in the district that this will not be tolerated.  We’ll hit them where it hurts the most, the business” He says.  He can’t let it go.  Katniss is his friend and she and Peeta suffered from Delly’s selfishness.  

“As long as you don’t burn it down I’ll look the other way” Cray said as he slams the door in his face.

He leaves Cray’s and heads off to find Peeta’s brother Rye.

Rye POV

He watches as Peeta hurry’s out of the bakery backpack over his shoulder, nervous but hopeful.  He wonders if Katniss will give Peeta a second change or will she be too stubborn to even let him explain? 

They had all been surprised she had given him a chance in the first place.  She always came off as surly and indifferent but once they got to know her, she was not so bad, sarcastically funny even, which he could appreciate.  She also managed to win over mom but maybe that had something to do with the fact that Katniss kept them well stocked with fresh game and not just squirrels but also turkey, geese and on occasion deer.  Mom started selling meat pies that became a big hit with the peacekeepers and their profits went up something they’d never have been able to do with the expensive butcher meat.   Of course Peeta always gave Katniss the best of the bakery fresh bread, cheese buns and cookies for Prim. 

Then everything went to hell.  “Delly” he snarls, just saying the name brings a bad taste to his mouth.  Who in the world does something like that to someone?  Bitch.

He feels guilty too.  He was too high that night to notice what was happening and to stop it somehow.  All he can vaguely recall was Katniss running out with a devastated look on her face.   Madge told him everything will work out just to give it time.

But he can’t.  He still remembers when Peeta came over after he heard about Katniss and Darius.  He was heartbroken, drinking himself sick.  Crying helplessly because he had happiness in the palm of his hands and it slipped away.  Raging that he’d always be tied to that harpy, how he couldn’t stand Delly.  He will never be happy again and how he wished he were dead. 

After that he took away Peeta’s liquor.  Helped him sober up.  Made him promise he wouldn’t hurt himself.  He looks at his broken brother, this is not the Peeta he knows. His brother was kind and selfless.  Out of the three brothers he is the best one. Now he was quick to anger, snapping at everyone for everything.  Delly caused this and he was going to make her pay.

He didn’t mention it to Peeta.  Didn’t want to distract him from his goal to win Katniss back, but he had run into Darius yesterday on the way to the hob.  They came up with a plan and they were to meet at the Victors Village tonight and to bring anyone that wanted to help.  He recruited his older brother Bannock, his girlfriend Madge and his best friend Conor.  He doesn’t know who Darius will ask but he has a pretty good idea.

The minute his shift is over he hurries upstairs to his room changes into dark clothes, grabs the general store shopping bag and rushes down the stairs, the contents in his bag clanking. “Later Pops” he calls out as he runs out the door. He’s to swing by Conor’s house first and rolls his eyes when catches sight of May, Conor’s girlfriend and her brother Mark who are all dressed in black too. 

“Peeta’s our friend too” is all Mark said.

He hands Conor the bag, “Fine, go on ahead; I’ll meet you all there, its house #4.”  Same thing happens when he reaches Bannock’s house and spots him with his two buddies.  He’s not sure if they are here to support Peeta or to relive the glory days of their youth.  He sends them up ahead too.  They can’t all be seen together, ‘Organized Meeting’ and all that.  He wonders what Darius will say with all the people showing up. 

His last stop was Madge’s; at least she didn’t have anyone with her since Katniss is her best friend.  Madge had told him how Katniss had opened up to her more once she started dating Peeta.  She was teaching Katniss the piano and Katniss would take Madge out into the woods and show her how to shoot.  That’s how he met Madge through Katniss. 

He’s in shock when they arrive in Victor’s Village house #4, where the hell did all these people come from, he spots Purnia along with a couple of peacekeepers he recognizes.  There’s Gale with a few of his crew members, Bristol is one of them and the others he vaguely remembers from school.   Rory, Vick and Prim, he can’t believe she’s here to.  Well make sense, since it was her sister that got screwed over too.  

What the hell is that smell?  It makes him gag and he puts a hand over his nose and mouth to try and block out the stench.  It smells like shit and piss, that’s when he notices the bucket by Prim and then it clicks.  Oh hell yeah! Why didn’t he think about that? They walk over to Prim; he has to hear about this. 

“Who’s brilliant idea was this” he points at the bucket.

“Prim’s” said Rory

“Its animal dropping I mix up to make fertilizer for our medicinal plant garden” Prim explains.

“And the piss” I ask.

Rory and Vick groan, hands on their stomachs.  “I’m never going to drink water ever again” said Vick. 

He guffaws, note to self ‘never piss Prim off.’

Prim hands Madge some gloves so she can help them funnel the shit and piss concoction into balloons.  Better Madge than him, he thinks.  He sees Bannock and Conor doing the same with a bucket for orange paint.  He walks over to Darius who’s talking to Haymitch.  

“Is that what Cray told you.  I can see him wanting to take the credit but it’s actually Mayor Undersee’s doing.  Cray just goes along with it; he’s drunk off his ass most of the time.  Still works in our favor. “   Haymitch says.  Just then Darius turns and catches sight of him.

“Glad you can join us Rye” said Darius.

Once all the balloons are done he and Darius start to organize everyone into groups.  They are going to hit the shoe shop in two waves.  First with the cans of black spray paint he purchased and the next with the balloons of paint and shit.  They have to be fast with the balloons because they will defiantly make noise with they hit the window and walls.  Gale, Bristol, Bannock and his buddies pick the shit balloons, totally exited, yep glory days.  Vick, Rory and the girls get the paint ones.  The rest of the group will do the spray paint.  It’s pretty late so there shouldn’t be anyone out at this time but Purnia and the other peacekeepers are to be the look outs and redirect people away for the shop if needed.

They make their way to the shop as quietly as they can.  Darius had told them not to be to profane, kids will be reading them too.  Fuck that, he’s going to paint every expletive he can think of.  They reach the shop and get to work.

Unlike the walls that can easily be painted over to cover the writing.  He chooses the window it will have to be either replaced or they will have to scrape the words off.

“Really Rye” Darius whispers “Rapist”

“What?” he whispers back “Let’s call it what it is.  It’s what you’re trying to prevent isn’t it”

Darius just gives him a look and continues spray painting ‘Peeta was drugged ‘and then ‘watch your drinks’

“Fine” he says and sprays the word ‘attempted’ right above it.  Darius just smiles and shakes his head.

Once that’s done the rest circle the shop each setting a pile of balloons at their feet.  Darius gives the signal and they start to throw.  Half way through, the girls start to giggle and the guys try to stifle their laughs.  It’s no good he, Darius and the others go and help them out to finish faster not caring where the balloons land.  They’re about done when all of a sudden the lights to the shop turn on.  They all scatter, laughing away as they head back to their homes. 

In the morning he’s leaning up against the bakery door, his dad right behind him looking across the way to the shoe shop.   Mr and Mrs Cartwright, Delly’s brother Devin and Delly are working away trying to clean up what that can.  There are several groups of people, seam and merchants standing around pointing and reading the words that had been written.

“You have anything to do with that” his dad asks.  He just shrugs his shoulders.  Delly looks his way and he reaches into his apron pocket and pulls out a can for black spray paints a little and wiggles it.  She quickly looks away.  That right bitch that’s what happens when you mess with my family he thinks before heading back inside.

Wolf: A Jessica James  Mystery by Kelly Oliver

#betrayal #everlark