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writersdrug · 5 days

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Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 3

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Warnings: mild cursing, boredom, thas really it

A/N: Holy shit I cannot believe how much love this is getting, and it's so much fun to write!! I've decided to makes this a fully fledged fic instead of just a drabble, and I'll be posting it on ao3 too! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! Also sorry if formatting changes, I'm trying to have some sort of order among my writing.

Simon had never told you how long he'd be gone - which was fine, your flat was only a twenty-minute drive from his home, should you need to do laundry or get more soap. You had some freelancing logo-design work you could focus on in your downtime, and Simon had been gracious enough to leave a note on the coffee table with the wifi password. Truth be told, you imagined this would feel like a holiday: no more shitty bosses. You were your own boss, here. You could make your own schedule, as long as you made time for Riley.

You soon discovered, after moving into Ghost's house, that it was very much not a vacation. The interior of his home was so barren that it made you feel like you had been sent to an asylum. On your first day there, you managed to get a bit of freelance work done; after that, you tried watching the telly, but you couldn't drown the heavy restlessness in the back of your mind.

You decided to phone a friend.

"What's Riley like?" Leslie said through the phone, which was tucked under your ear.

"Military dog." You replied. You were lying on the floor next to Riley, stroking her fur as her head rested on your stomach. "So proper, I've never seen anything like it. You know- when I made breakfast today, I dropped some food on the linoleum- she didn't bat an eye. Girl just watched."

"That's amazing... you know Donald would have run to it like it was the first meal he'd been fed in years."

You laughed, making Riley's head bounce on your abdomen. "Mum has got to stop feeding them real food..."

"What about the client?" Leslie said, changing the subject. "Simon, was it? What's he like?"

"Honestly?" You began, scratching between Riley's ears. "A decent guy, don't get me wrong - but bland. Gruff. His apartment is, too."

"Just like ya mum always said." She snickered. "Can I see?"

You sighed. "Nah, I never checked if it was ok to bring people over. Not sure if he'd appreciate me giving you a tour. But I'll ask next time if you can visit."

"That's fair..." You heard her shuffling around on the other end of the line. "Well listen babes, I should get back to work. Got five left on my lunch break."

You groaned at the prospect of having to be alone in Simon's barren home again. "Alright... still on for this Thursday?"

"You know it! Nina's coming too."

You grimaced. "Whoop-tee-doo..."

"Oh, c'mon, I'll make sure she's civil. Love ya."

"She'd better be. Love you!"

The call ended with a click, and you let the phone slide from your shoulder with a sigh. You stared at the ceiling, running through what you could possibly do. You'd already had a shower at your flat before coming here, you'd done plenty of work...

Riley tilted her head up to look at you, sensing your frustration. You looked back down at her.

"What d'you and Simon do all day?" You asked.

She sighed and looked away.

Maybe it was time for a walk.

"Alright, Riley!" You said, pocketing your phone and sitting up. She scrambled up at the sudden movement; her eyes followed your every move as you stood, her stare expectant and excited.

"Fancy a walk?" You asked.

She whined and yapped, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

You chuckled. "C'mon, then - before you and I both start going insane."

On your way to the closet to fetch her leash, she had nearly knocked you down to beat you there. You huffed, leaning down to grab your shoes and tug them on. She sat (im)patiently and watched, her tail slapping against the wooden floor.

"Alright, alright..." You laughed, grabbing her leash and latching it onto her harness. She obediently trotted to the front door and sat, waiting for you. You opened the door and stepped outside, confused when the leash tugged in your hand. You looked back inside and saw that Riley hadn't moved from her seat on the floor. She looked at you, ears forward and eyes eager as she waited for... something.

You looked at her, puzzled. "What's wrong, girl?"

She whined, pointing one foot up and thumping her tail against the floor.

Oh, right. Military dog.

"Okay, Riley." You said clearly, and she happily trotted out the door. You chuckled, locking the deadbolt behind you and beginning the much needed walk. She stuck right by your side, never passing you nor falling behind.

For the kind of gruff, admittedly shady man that Simon was, you noticed that he lived in a pretty nice area. If you told your mum where he lived, she'd blow a cap out of jealousy - the houses were neatly lined down the street, each one with a driveway and a small garden bed underneath the living room windows. Simon's was noticeably bare - Christ, even his grass was thinner than the other neighbors', how does one manage that?

You eyed his empty garden bed as you passed it. You wondered if he would let you plant a few things... just to liven up the drabness. A couple of Hostas, maybe some African Violets... you knew he wouldn't want too much colour, but he definitely needed something to brighten his home. Currently, it stuck out like a sore thumb against the other houses. Not to mention, it would give you something to slice through the boredom of staying here.

Eventually, the sidewalk led to the edge of a small patch of woods. A bridge stretched over the creek, which then led to a longer, winding path through the trees. You came to a halt, reading the sign next to the trail.

"Po-wee-hee-co park..." You mumbled and Riley stared at you with her tongue hanging from the side of her mouth. "Poeheko Park? You ever been here?"

She looked between you and the trail, sniffing the air. She licked her lips and whined.

"Suppose not, Simon's only ever dragged you around the block a few times, huh?"

She eyed the trail warily, but you could see her eyes brimming with eagerness and interest. You chuckled, reigning in her leash and starting over the bridge. "Time for an adventure!"

------------

Simon sat stoicly on the heli, eyes fixed on the wall across from him. His palms rested on his thighs, fingers splayed. He appeared calm and collected, focused on the mission that Priced had debriefed not too long ago.

Except, the mission couldn't have been further from his mind. He was thinking about you and Riley. We're you giving her enough attention? That was a dumb question; clearly you knew how much attention a dog needed. You'd done this before... but had you ever worked with a dog that had certain needs and medications? You never mentioned it during the interview, and he didn't remember to ask. What if you couldn't see the signs when Riley's pain was flaring up? What if you had forgotten that she needed pain medication?

He thought about texting you - but he quickly shut the thought down. He'd reserved texting for emergencies only, and he knew you were good at your job. There wasn't a moment of your life you hadn't spent around dogs, of course you would take perfect care of Riley.

"Honin' in, LT?" Soap's voice echoed through the coms as he took the seat opposite from Simon. He was relaxed, as if this was just another Friday for him - well, Simon supposed, it was.

"Always." Simon replied gruffly, focusing back on the mission at hand. He cleared his throat and flexed his fingers, trying to keep a cool composure.

"How's Riley doin'?" Soap asked. "Know I jus' seen 'er a few days ago, but- ye finally cave n' get someone to pet sit?"

Simon grunted. "'Course. Not gonna leave 'er alone that long, it'd be torture."

"Who'd ye get?"

"What's it to you?"

"Secret service? Ye snag one of the Royal Guards fer the job?"

"Jog on, Soap." Simon warned with a serious look, and Soap raised his hands in defense.

He couldn't tell Johnny about you. A fierce, possessive feeling in his chest told him not to. He knew Johnny had a thing for young, pretty things like you, and he refused to let you fall victim to his desires. In fact, he hated the thought of it.

But- who was he? Why was he being so protective over someone he barely knew? You were an adult, perfectly capable of making your own decisions. Why should Simon cockblock you and Johnny? So what if he wanted to shag you?

Mentally, he shook his head. No. Never. He'd lock you in his house if it meant keeping Jonny away from you. Even if Simon wasn't anything more than your client, he wasn't going to allow Johnny to get close to you. It would be too weird. You're his, after all.

...

Fuck.

He sighed and adjusted his position in his seat. You and Johnny didn't even know each other, for Christ's sake. He was overthinking all of this. You'd probably never even meet his team, why would you need to? You only ever have reason to spend time in his house, not on base. You just watch Riley, make breakfast in his kitchen, sleep on his couch, maybe his bed, if you're with the dog... using his bathroom, his shower...

He scowled at himself. Maybe hiring you was a huge mistake. You were too distracting.

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thef1diary · 2 months

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Little Big Fan | Five

- Little Big Surprise

Series Masterlist

wc: 3.3k

The house felt too empty, too quiet.

Isabella has been at her father's house for the past week and you missed her dearly. So, you had to find new hobbies to pass the time. You should've been used to the days she isn't home but you still aren't.

A new addition to your routine was your newfound hobby; watching Formula One races, or more so, watching Max race.

You would've been a fan even if you didn't know him personally, purely based on his driver skills, but that little detail made every moment of the race a tad bit more special. Your eyes would always try to find him on the track with the others, which he was in front of, leading.

You even found out that you could watch an on-board camera for a specific driver while watching the main race screen as well. It was very obvious whose camera feed you chose to watch.

This was the first time you watched the race after coming back from The Netherlands, mainly because it's only been a week since.

Though it wasn't fun watching the race without Isabella, or more like without her own added commentary.

Fortunately, Isabella's father would be dropping her off today. Until then, you had to find a way to pass the time.

Picking up your phone, your finger hovered over Max's contact. The last time you spoke was yesterday, when you congratulated him for the win over text.

You caught up on your pending work, meeting clients, writing up contracts, and even began designing the floor plans. One of the perks of working as a freelance interior designer, was that you could complete it at your own pace. The downside, however, was once you were done, you didn't really have anything else to do.

You worked for a few hours today, so your little break where you contemplated to call Max was well earned.

But before you could decide whether or not you wanted to call him, your phone rang with a call from him.

You quickly answered, greeting him with, "I was just about to call you, but I thought it'd be too late for you." You remembered that even though it was daytime for you, it was nighttime for him.

Max hummed, "too late? Oh wait, you're right, it's well past midnight." You furrowed your brow as his response confused you, but you didn't comment on it.

"So, what's up?" You asked, wanting to know why he called.

"You actually left something when you came to the race, and I kept forgetting to mention it, but I was thinking of sending it back to you as a package," Max explained, and you began to wonder what you had left behind.

"Yeah, sure that's fine, I actually have no idea when I'm going to see you again either." You shut your eyes tightly as you regretted the words as soon as you spoke them. "I mean—" you tried to explain but he cut you off, "I know what you mean and you're not wrong,"

You told him your address for the package, still wondering what you left behind, but dismissed the thought once you heard some noises on the other end. Specifically, noises that would indicate a person is outside, such as traffic.

"Max, are you outside?" You asked, wondering what he'd be doing out at this hour. "What no! Hold on, can I call you back in a bit?" He didn't wait for your response, just hung up the call.

You held your phone in front of you, looking at the dark screen as if it would give you any answers, but as excepted, it didn't. Then, you dropped the thought or at least tried to since Max did say he'll call you back.

You made yourself an iced coffee before falling into the depths of online shopping. Before you could decide on buying anything, the doorbell interrupted you.

"Max" you gasped as you opened the door, seeing him standing on the other side, holding a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands. "Hi," he grinned, eyes taking in your presence since it had been too long since he last saw you.

"You lied about the package," you commented though there wasn't any malice behind your words. "Consider me as the thing you forgot?"

You chuckled at his words but it quickly became quiet as you finally realized that he was truly standing in front of you. "Please tell me you have a work thing here and you're just stopping by because you were in the area?"

"I could tell you that, but it would be a lie," he shrugged. You hesitated before asking the next question, "and the truth is?"

"I just wanted to see you and Isabella again." Either he didn't realize the weight behind his words or he chose to ignore it but you stood there, holding the door, in surprise.

"And now I'm realizing it probably wasn't a good idea to drop by without asking you," Max's words lacked confidence but you quickly shook your head. "No, it's just that you keep surprising me by standing on the other side of the door," then you smiled and added, "this time it happens to be in a different country."

Again, he shrugged like it wasn't a big deal, but if he was able to hear the thoughts running through your mind, he'd know that this was a big deal to you. In the best way possible.

"So, can I come in?" He asked, as he was just idly standing by the door. "Oh yes, sorry."

He passed the flowers to you once he was inside. "I didn't know which flowers you like, but this seemed fitting," he explained the reason behind the sunflowers.

You wanted to ask why, but you held back because in the few weeks you've known Max, he always manages to say something that leaves you speechless.

"It's perfect, thank you. I think I have a vase lying around somewhere." You found one in the back of a cabinet next to your kitchen, and started filling it with water.

Max stood across from you and commented, "that vase should never be left empty."

You chuckled, more at the thought of the vase being full than his words. "It has been empty more often than not."

Although it was just a simple back and forth conversation, Max made a mental note to try and never let it be empty for as long as he knows you. Which he hopes would be a long, long time.

Max looked around the house, noticing a lack of a little ball of energy. "Where's Isabella?"

"At Tyler's. He'll drop her off in about an hour." Once you set up the flowers, you paused, realizing you have to make lunch for Isabella but you didn't want Max to think that you didn't want him here.

"Everything okay?" He asked, always noticing everything. "Yeah, I have to make lunch for Isabella." You didn't know what reaction you expected but it definitely wasn't a laugh.

Max stepped closer to you, rounding the kitchen island that was in between you two. "If you think you have to entertain me as a guest, who by the way showed up unexpectedly, I'm going to think you don't consider me a friend."

You broke out into a smile, realizing that you overthought the small situation. "I do consider you a friend, otherwise I wouldn't have ranted on and on about my job."

"I will say though, if you're making lunch, I want some too," Max added with a sheepish smile. "Isabella's lunch entails a homemade pizza and fries—made with freshly cut potatoes—because that's all she wants to eat every time she comes home."

"Fair enough, let's make extras for all of us," Max began rolling up his sleeves and washed his hands in preparation.

You couldn't help but laugh, "Max, what are you doing?" He looked at you as if his actions were obvious, "I'm going to help you. Did you think I was going to let you make lunch all by yourself?"

There he goes, leaving you speechless. You shut your mouth because you couldn't find a response, and began taking out the ingredients. "Just a warning though, you're gonna have to tell me what to do because I'm not the best chef," Max stated.

"It's okay, you can be my assistant," you responded which made him raise his eyebrows, "assistant huh? I like the sound of that."

You paused, looking at him with a playful glower before both of you broke out into laughter.

You passed him the potatoes after rinsing them, tasking him to peel and cut into strips to make french fries.

Although he didn't notice, you might've stopped a few times while kneading the dough to look at him. Unbeknownst to you, he did the same when you weren't looking either.

"So does Isabella go to her dad's often?" Max asked after a moment of silence. "Sometimes it's every other week, other times it's only a weekend per month," you explained.

Max had loads of questions about Tyler, but he was content in knowing only what you were willing to tell him. This time, you didn't continue the conversation about your ex, and Max understood that you didn't want to talk about it.

The topic was forgotten as soon as you accidentally smeared pizza sauce across your face. You truly had no idea how it got there, but only realized when Max brushed his fingers against your cheek to wipe it away.

However, he only smeared it further. He couldn't control his laughter as it spread and that prompted you to wipe it from your cheek and smear it on his.

He glared at you but it only lasted a millisecond as he grabbed a handful of dry flour. "Max," you warned, stepping backwards in an attempt to get away from him.

You didn't get far as his arm found its away around your waist to pull you back and hold you still. Then, he dumped the flour on your face, adding to the remnants of the sauce.

Your hands pressed against his chest to push him away but it was a useless attempt since he had you cornered against the counter so you had nowhere to go.

You spluttered since a bit of the flour got in your mouth and Max laughed at you. Then, you did the only thing you could think of. Grabbing Max's face, you rubbed your cheek dusted with flour and sauce against his. Now it was even.

Once the laughter died down, both of you noticed how close you were standing. Max couldn't back away because of your palms on his cheek and on the nape of his neck.

Your eyes widened slightly at the realization and you quickly dropped your hands so he could move. Max took a second too long to process that you weren't holding him anymore, before he created more space between you two.

Then, you noticed the time, "shit she'll be here in twenty minutes."

"You should go change, I'll take care of the rest," Max suggested and you looked at him with a raised eyebrow, "you're going to take care of it?"

He nodded like it wasn't a big deal. "You're the one who said you're not a good chef," you spoke with a teasing smile.

"I said I'm not the best chef, I can be a good chef," he reasoned and you couldn't argue with that logic. "Fine, as long as you don't burn my house down."

"I'll try," you heard him as you went upstairs to your room.

"He got me flowers," you muttered to yourself as you picked out a clean outfit. "He fucking got me flowers." The realization hit you hard, more so because you loved sunflowers, and he just happened to randomly guess the right bouquet. Which was something your ex could never do right even after you told him, mainly because he preferred roses and only bought you roses.

"It seemed fitting," you repeated his words, "Max, why do you have to be so nice?" You asked rhetorically as of course he wasn't there to answer.

You hurriedly went downstairs after washing up and changing to see whether Max had done anything wrong. Perhaps if he was a lousy chef, you'd have one complaint about him. So far, you have liked everything about him.

Fortunately, nothing smelt burnt, and nothing was broken. When you spotted him, he was frying the French fries.

You paused in your tracks, and took a good look at him so you could remember this moment later. Max looked very comfortable in your kitchen, in your house, as if it wasn't his first time. You hoped it wouldn't be the last.

"Looks like everything's fine here," you commented and he turned to look at you with a smile, "no burnt houses," he shrugged.

"The pizza still has a few minutes to go, and the fries are all done," he spoke as he gestured with his hands, but when he looked at you again, you had a stupid smile on your face.

"What?" That made your smile widen, "nothing, just, thank you for helping me."

"Always," he responded, already planning that he'll be around as long as you wanted him to be.

The doorbell rang, interrupting your peace but you were beyond excited to open the door and greet your daughter. Isabella definitely got the habit of being overly excited from you.

However, when you opened the door you saw Isabella standing beside Tyler with a frown on her face. "Hi angel, did you have fun?" You crouched down and ruffled her hair.

"Can I go inside, mama?" Her timid voice surprised you as she would usually answer that question happily. "Sure, sweetheart, I'll be there in a minute."

You watched her head inside before you stood up, closing the door behind you so Isabella wouldn't hear your conversation and faced your ex, "what happened?"

He scoffed, "nothing happened, I just told her that I won't be able to see her again as planned because I'm flying out of the country."

"Another business trip?" You asked and he nodded. "She usually doesn't get this upset any other time you cancel, did something else happen?"

"You know how she is, overdramatic," Tyler casually shrugged and that word ticked you off. "Don't you dare call my daughter overdramatic," you pointed at him harshly.

"Oh so now she's your daughter? Isabella gets upset easily, you know this."

"I do not want to hear you say that word again to describe her, I've heard it enough from you when we were together. Now tell me what happened."

Tyler sighed, and for a moment he thought about saying that Isabella was just like her mother, like you, but he didn't want to waste any extra time being around you.

"I introduced her to Emma," he stated as if it would explain everything but you furrowed your brows in confusion. "Who?"

"My girlfriend. Isabella noticed her around the house a few times so I thought it would be a good idea to introduce her," he explained and you were about to interrupt but he kept going. "I don't know if Isabella doesn't like her, but she's been in that mood ever since."

"Tyler, she has only seen us together, so of course if you introduce her to someone else, it'll take time for her to get used to it," you decided to explain in a calm manner.

"You don't have an issue with my girlfriend?" He asked and you raised your brows, "why would I? It's not my business unless it involves Isabella."

He shrugged, then laughed at his thought before saying it out loud, "well I hope that you don't have an issue explaining dating to her, that is, if you ever start dating again."

"My dating life is none of your business. Don't you have somewhere to be? Perhaps back to Emma?"

"Alright, I'll text you when I'm back in the country," he stated and turned around to leave but paused as he saw a new car in the driveway that he knew didn't belong to you.

"Whose car is that?" You laughed at his need to always be all up in your business, "goodbye, Tyler."

You entered the house with a sigh but the sight in front of you warmed your heart, making you forget all about the conversation with your ex.

Max was crouched down onto his knees to be at eye level with Isabella, who had two arms wrapped around his neck in a tight hug.

When Max heard the door close, he opened his eyes and saw you. He removed one hand that was resting on Isabella's back and gestured for you to come closer.

Understanding his silent gesture, you crouched down right behind your daughter and wrapped her in a hug as well, so she was sandwiched between you and Max.

You placed loads of kisses on her cheeks until she started giggling. Isabella let go of Max and turned to face you, "mama, you didn't tell me that Maxy was here!" Just like that, her mood was drastically different from when she first arrived at the doorstep.

"He surprised me too, angel," you spoke as your gaze shifted to Max.

"Did you watch him race yesterday?" You asked Isabella, but her mood dropped again. "No mama, daddy was busy."

"It's okay, you can watch the next one with your mama," Max spoke, and Isabella nodded in agreement. "Okay!"

Then Max gasped, "the pizza!" He quickly rushed towards the oven to check on it, making you and Isabella laugh.

"Maxy made pizza?" She asked as she sat up on one of the barstools, which also happens to be her favourite place to eat even if you have a dining table.

"Maxy and mama made pizza," Max corrected, as he watched you cut it into slices.

"Are you ready for school?" Max asked once all of you began eating. You and Max also sat up on the barstools beside Isabella.

"No." She simply stated. Max frowned, "why not?"

"It's a big school, it's scary." Her words made you frown, "but you're a big girl too now."

"How about we go shopping tomorrow? Buy a new bag, more school supplies, and anything you want," Max suggested and this time you didn't stop him.

You already had a plan to take her shopping tomorrow, mainly because you already knew that Tyler didn't or else she would’ve been beaming about it.

"Even the glittery clips?" Isabella asks with a bright smile on her face, making Max chuckle, "yes even the glittery clips"

"Oh what about ice cream?" Isabella asked, and this time you watched Max become the victim of her pout and big round eyes. He looked at you for help, but you pressed your lips together, holding back a laugh.

"Yes, we can get ice cream too," he gave in making Isabella cheer.

"Alright, angel, finish your food." You gestured to her plate and she quickly obliged, stuffing her face with pizza and fries.

You were glad that Max was here, able to instantly uplift Isabella's mood. However you couldn't help but think about Tyler's words.

You never thought about dating again ever since you broke up with your ex, especially since Isabella was a baby and almost always with you.

But now that she was older, beginning to understand relationships, you thought about her reaction if you ever introduced her to someone you wanted to date.

Plus, you never met anyone that would make you debate the decision of whether to start dating again or not, that was until you met Max.

Taglist: (let me know if you want to be added or removed) @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @glitterf1 @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy

#little big fan fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #thef1diary fic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #fluff #f1 fluff

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cassiefairy · 2 years

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How to make extra money from doing the hobbies you love

If you want to find a little more money to cope with the cost-of-living crisis, why not look to your hobbies to find a way of earning more while still doing the things you enjoy? Here are three ideas to get you started…

Collaborative feature Whether you want extra spending money for your holiday, need more cash to put into your savings for an important purchase, or simply want to boost your budget with some additional monthly income, you can probably find a way to earn more by doing the things you love. Your hobbies are a great source of enjoyment for you and it’s probably what you do to get away from the…

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#business #decorating #earning more #financial freedom #freelance #gardening #interior design #jobs #money #money saving #self-employed #Sewing #side hustle

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doxrixcorporations · 2 years

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Interior Designers & Consultants - DoxRix

Are you looking for Home & Office Interior designers?

Meet Top Consultants as Freelancers in minimum amount.

Discuss your requirements with DoxRix Consultants and Get best pricing and designs.

#interior #consultants #designers #freelancers #doxrix

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falloutbart · 1 year

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Modern AU, they like hanging out in Horus’ bakery.

Horus - Owner of the bakery. Rumor said he was the local mafia leader at his younger age, but it never gets proven.

Guilliman - Manager of a massive agricultural enterprise, still enjoying farming in person.

Perturabo - Freelance artist, with thirteen different master's degrees, still finds himself hard to finish a commission without an argument.

Dorn - Successful interior designer, people pay billion for his work, but sometimes he do it for free. Roommate of Perturabo because his brother can't pay runt by himself.

Leman - Forest keeper, keep wolflings as his pet under his bed, his clothes, and everything he owned.

Magnus - Professor of a famous college, didn't have his own house, living on campus, enjoying divination, healing crystal and dreamcatcher.

Lion - Writer, Guilliman is his landlord, has published a series of novels called Son of Forrest, and some collections of poems.

#modern au #warhammer 40000 #wh40k #horus lupercal #roboute guilliman #perturabo #rogal dorn #leman russ #magnus the red #lion el'jonson

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fyblackwomenart · 8 months

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Eunice Adeyi ✨

Artist

Freelance artist with an interior design degree | 🇬🇧 🇳🇬 Email for business inquiry. ⬇️MY BRUSHES!⬇️

#digital art #black girl #art

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cloudwhisper23 · 1 month

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Back into Grumbo Month (12 days late, but that's irrelevant). Since I had no idea how to do this prompt, I kinda winged it, but I am very pleased with how it turned out. Hope you enjoy! Check out the event creator's blog @grow-bettah too!

Day 2: Alternate Universe

The light was flickering again. Grian glared at it as he ate, knowing that any attempt he could possibly make to solve the problem would only make it worse. He’d probably electrocute himself in the process, actually.

Pearl would tell him to hire an electrician. Someone who would fix it easily while Grian focused on his degree. The degree that Grian seemed to change his mind about every day.

He had taken an electrical class a few years ago, back when he was going to major in interior design and architecture. Like most of his endeavors, it hadn’t stuck.

But the flickering light… Grian scowled. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to take a tiny peek? Something had to be messing with the circuit, surely.

A few minutes later, Pearl arrived, a vaguely familiar man in tow. Pearl brought home a librarian. Not just any librarian though. She’d brought home Mumbo Jumbo, the man Grian had been going to the library to catch glimpses of for the past few years.

“I found an electrician willing to take a look, Grian- What are you doing on the table?”

“Oh dear,” Mumbo said quietly.

Grian glanced over, his face quickly warming up. “Umm… I thought I could fix it myself?”

“You are more accident-prone than anyone I’ve ever met. Put that light bulb down, and get off the table.”

“Yes ma’am,” Grian replied weakly.

Mumbo took over after that.

Pearl shook her head. “How did I know you were going to do this?”

“Family intuition?” Grian guessed. “Or maybe you just know me.”

“You took one class. One.”

“I didn’t get myself killed,” Grian said defensively.

“But you could have,” Mumbo interjected, eyes darkening. “Look, mate. You didn’t even turn the light off.”

Grian rolled his eyes. “I don’t need a second lecture.”

“You’re going to give me grey hairs.” Pearl shook her head.

“You can just pretend they’re silver. Give you a fancy aesthetic.”

“Hmm.”

“All done,” Mumbo flicked the light back on, and it no longer flickered.

“Brilliant!” Grian grinned. “That light was driving me mad.”

“It would drive anyone mad.” Mumbo fiddled with his mustache. “Next time something like this happens, how about you call me, yeah?” He offered Grian a business card.

“How much-“

“No charge. I’m not actually legally allowed to do stuff like this. It’s a hobby more than a career.”

Grian didn’t know what to say to that, so he glanced down at the business card. “Electrical work as a hobby?”

“You’re a freelance photographer who does three years of a degree program before changing pathways. You can’t talk.” Pearl elbowed him.

“Right, okay. I promise to not do any more electrical work without consulting you first.”

Mumbo raised an eyebrow. “Not what I was going for mate.”

“I won’t do any more electrical work?”

Mumbo nodded. “And if you have any problems, call me.”

“Yeah, sure.” Grian pocketed the business card.

Running to the library to get a book for class was nothing new for Grian. He was more than familiar with the place, and more than once he’d been jokingly offered a job as an assistant.

But Grian wasn’t ever just here for a book.

Looking around, it wasn’t as easy as Grian had initially hoped to find Mumbo. Sure, the man was tall, but that didn’t mean anything in the library. The shelves were even taller than Mumbo.

“Excuse me,” Grian said to the woman at the counter. “Do you know where I can find Mumbo Jumbo?”

“He doesn’t work today,” she replied easily. “Can I take a message for you?”

“No, thank you.” Grian set his book on the counter. “I need to check this out, though.”

“That I can do.”

Grian walked out of the library slightly disappointed. He’d been thinking a lot lately. A bit too much about his encounter with Mumbo if he was honest with himself. He was a mystery to Grian. Why would a librarian offer to fix a flickering light in a house he’d never been in before?

He couldn’t imagine it. Still, even without knowing how to solve the mystery of Mumbo, he had things to do.

The bakery was warm, as it always was. Scar didn’t ever seem to stop baking, even though his shop had closed hours ago. He smiled at Grian, dropping a plate of cookies on the table.

“You seem busy.”

“Not as busy as I could be,” Grian replied, taking a cookie. “You need to stop feeding me free samples. I’m going to get pudgy.”

“But that’d be a crime! Besides, these are experimental cookies.”

Grian looked at his friend skeptically. “No. These are the cookies you make when you’re stressed out.”

Scar’s smile thinned into a line. “It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“What happened, Scar?”

“I… may or may not be living out of my bakery. But! It’s not because I lost the house or anything. It’s just…”

Grian tilted his head. “What is it?”

“There’s nothing wrong with the wiring at home. Nothing at all! I just… I can hear it, Grian, and I can’t hear it here. It’s easier to sleep when I can’t hear it.”

“Have you called an electrician?” Grian asked.

“They can’t hear it, so they tell me nothing is wrong. And everything works just fine. It’s ridiculous.”

The business card in Grian’s pocket felt heavy all the sudden. He dug it out, typing the number into his phone and dialing before Scar realized what he was up to. “Grian, don’t-“

“Hello?” Mumbo’s voice came through the phone.

“Hi, Mumbo. It’s Grian. The guy you fixed the light for last week?”

Scar raised an eyebrow. Grian made a face at him.

“Ah. Haven’t electrocuted yourself since then, I see.”

“Not as if I haven’t tried,” Grian replied with a faint smile. Scar munched on a cookie, watching with amusement. “Are you busy right now?”

“Another electrical problem? Or do you need my services as a librarian?”

“Electrical problem.” Scar shook his head, a smile gracing his face. “Got a friend who has something weird going on. Noisy wires.”

“How odd. I’m not too busy right now. Could you send me the address?”

“Yeah, sure thing.” Grian told him the address and packed up his stuff. “We’re going to get this sorted out, Scar.”

“Mumbo Jumbo, huh? He’s some kind of electrician as well as a librarian. You certainly don’t pick the easy ones,” Scar replied, but he helped clean up.

“Shut up, Scar.”

Mumbo considered himself to be a patient man. He could help sort out a mess in the library or come up with a new, albeit complicated, way to solve any electrical problem he came across. It all just took time, and Mumbo was fine with that.

He did not realize that no one would be home when he went to the address Grian sent him. Idly, he leaned against the wall, trying to hear the noisy wiring he was meant to be fixing.

There wasn’t a sound to be heard.

Frowning, Mumbo pressed closer to the wall. Maybe it just couldn’t be heard unless you were in the house? Or maybe it was a higher pitch, and it was just harder to discern.

Mumbo pulled a small device out of his bag and fiddled with it for a few minutes. The light on the side of the box lit up when Mumbo brought it closer to the house. So, there was a noise. It was just one that Mumbo couldn’t hear.

“Wow, you’re fast. Mumbo, right?” An unfamiliar man came up the sidewalk alongside Grian. “I wasn’t expecting you to get here before us.”

“I did say I wasn’t busy,” Mumbo replied.

“Not busy usually doesn’t mean ready to leave at a moments notice,” the man pointed out. “And you’re all dressed up! I’d hate to have torn you away from something important. Especially considering how I told Grian it wasn’t a big deal.”

“If you keep avoiding going home like this, Scar, it is a big deal.” Grian shook his head, fiddling with the strap of his bag. “Just let him try.”

“I did identify an odd frequency, even without going inside,” Mumbo replied, grateful about the subject change.

He didn’t want to mention that he’d been stood up on a date and really needed something else to think about. Grian’s phone call had come at the perfect time, really.

“Wait, really? You’re better than the other guy I called about it. Thanks Mumbo!” Scar was already beaming, green eyes twinkling.

Grian rolled his eyes. “He’s done the bare minimum, Scar. I don’t think he’s going to leave just after figuring out there is a problem.”

“Well, he’s the first one to believe me.”

“I believed you.”

“I know you did, Grian. But you have to believe me. Oh, Mumbo, do you want a cookie?”

Mumbo blinked. There was suddenly a tin of cookies in his face, and he couldn’t help but recoil slightly. “Um-“

“Give the man some space, Scar.” Grian snorted, a faint smile on his face.

Mumbo couldn’t help but stare. He’d found the man attractive the first time he’d met him, standing on his kitchen table with a light bulb in his hand and static electricity making his hair stand on end. But seeing him in other contexts was incredible as well.

He wanted to be the one to make Grian smile.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Mumbo set to work on figuring out what was making the noise that drove Scar out of his home. He got familiar with the sound of Grian and Scar holding their own conversation in the background.

“This is amazing,” Scar said softly as Mumbo double-checked his sensor. “The sound is completely gone.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Mumbo replied, walking over to the sink. “Do you happen to have dish soap I could borrow?”

“Oh, right, yes.” Scar set the soap out. “How much do I owe you for this?”

“I don’t charge,” Mumbo replied.

“I still owe you something for this. Do you accept cookies? Oh! I can buy you dinner or something-“

“That won’t be necessary,” Mumbo pointedly did not glance over at Grian. “I’m happy to help.”

“He didn’t let me pay either,” Grian said.

“How very kind of you, Mumbo Jumbo.” Scar continued to smile. “Really. Are you sure I can’t do anything for you?”

“It is no trouble at all.”

Scar shook his head. “I’m not taking no for an answer. Tell you what, have a tin of cookies. Freshly baked from my bakery! On the house.”

“I couldn’t-“

“He bakes as a hobby as well as his job. You’d actually be helping him by taking some,” Grian said, glancing up finally. He had an amused smile on his face as he stretched in the chair. “There’s only so many times he can send me home with four containers full of cookies before it’s my problem as well as his.”

“Yeah! You’d be a huge help if you took some. Really.”

And so, Mumbo left the house with a tin of freshly baked cookies. Feeling a little disjointed, he turned and stared back at the house. Scar waved at him.

Scar was texting someone when Grian made it to the bakery the following week. “Finally join a dating app?” Grian asked.

“Haha. No. I’m talking to Mumbo.”

Grian paused, his bag barely over his head. “Do you have more issues with the wiring? Are they being loud again?”

“Don’t be silly, Grian! Mumbo is my friend.”

“You’ve known him a week.”

“Yes, but I’ve known you much longer. And you happen to have a type.”

Grian’s face burned. “I’m not-“

“Look, Mumbo seems like a great guy, from what I can tell. He’s just a tad lonely, that’s all.” Scar took Grian’s bag and set it on the table. “You can’t tell me you haven’t at least thought about it.”

“First Pearl, now you. Is a man not allowed to focus on his studies?”

“Come on, G. The only time I’ve ever seen you focused is when you’re taking pictures. You don’t even need a degree to be happy.”

“Yet you think I need a boyfriend.” Grian glanced skeptically at Scar. “What are you two even talking about?”

“Passed relationship failures. Did you know he was actually on a date when you called him?”

“What?”

“Well, not an actual date. The man he was meant to be meeting up with stood him up. We rescued him from a sorrowful night, Grian. Which you would know if you’d followed up like I did.” Scar grinned at his friend.

Mumbo had been on a date? It certainly explained the suit and tie. Grian shook his head. “Don’t be silly-“

“Grian, you’ve been pining after this man for years. Years! And now you’ve talked to him and have his phone number. It really couldn’t hurt to try, you know.”

Grian didn’t have a comeback to that one. He pointed at Scar, “If you tell him-“

“Wouldn’t dream of it! But I will keep bothering you about this if you don’t act on it.” Scar messed with the zipper on Grian’s bag. “He asks about you a lot, you know.”

“No he doesn’t,” Grian replied, refusing to believe it.

“How would you know? I’m the one who’s friends with him.”

Grian found himself scowling the next day. He couldn’t get what Scar said out of his mind. Was he overthinking this? It wasn’t like there was much of a friendship Grian could destroy at this point.

Going to the library would certainly be more awkward if he tried and it didn’t work out. Maybe he would just give up on college if that happened. He did already have an apartment and a job, after all.

Lost in his thoughts, Grian didn’t notice when someone sat down across from him. “Associated Press? I thought you were a photographer.”

Grian jolted, his knee banging against the underside of the table. Pain flared up his leg, but he ignored it to stare at Mumbo. Mumbo, who’d picked up the styleguide Grian had been staring blankly at.

“I am a photographer,” Grian replied slowly.

“So you’re just curious about everything then, huh?” Mumbo’s mouth curled up in a smile as he slid the book back across the table.

“Something like that.” Grian shrugged. “I’ve only changed my major half a dozen times.”

“That’s right. Your sister mentioned that when I was fixing your light.” Mumbo tilted his head. “Indecisive?”

Grian shrugged again. “That does appear to be the case.”

“Did you ever try photography as a program? There’s an excellent photography program in the journalism department.”

“Hence the Associated Press styleguide. I am majoring in Journalism. We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Mumbo nodded, straightening his tie. Wait, he was wearing a tie? Grian blinked, taking in the outfit. Mumbo typically wore button-ups, sure, but the layering he’d done today made it seem like maybe something else was going on. This was more dressed up than Mumbo typically was at the library.

“Got a hot date later?” Grian asked, half as a joke.

Mumbo blinked. “Oh, I don’t think so. The last time I tried dating, it didn’t go so well.”

“Scar said you told him you were stood up,” Grian replied, suddenly curious for more details.

Mumbo shifted uncomfortably. “Yes. But I suppose I wasn’t counting that time. At least then my night ended with a tin of cookies.”

“That’s Scar for you.” Grian shrugged. “Glad we were able to take your mind off it, at least.”

“Yeah…” Mumbo shifted again. “How about you?”

“Not really looking for anyone,” Grian answered. He fiddled with the stylebook, avoiding looking at Mumbo.

“Fair enough. There are some strange people out there.”

“But you never really answered my question. Why are you all dressed up today?”

“Ah. That. Well, I have been once again pressured into attempting to go on a date.”

Grian looked at Mumbo, surprised. “Is this some kind of family obligation? Scar and Pearl are always pressuring me to go on dates, but I never really feel too bad about not going.”

“Ah. I suppose I need to learn how to get around Scar, then. He’s the one who pressured me into this, really.” Mumbo scratched his neck, seeming even more uncomfortable. “Another blind date. Hopefully it goes better than the last ones I’ve been on.”

“You don’t seem to have much hope of that,” Grian remarked, silently fuming at Scar in his head. This was the quickest way to make Grian jealous, and Scar knew it.

“I’m trying to be optimistic, for Scar’s sake, but it feels like this will never go well, even if he seems to think he can help in some way.”

Grian shrugged. “If you’d been more careful about how you approached this, you could’ve pretended to have a partner.”

“Yeah, but Scar was so genuine when he asked me about myself. I didn’t realize he was a matchmaker who had been failing to make matches!”

Mumbo glanced around. “Actually, maybe it’d be best to leave the library for this conversation. Don’t want to get into too much trouble.”

“Probably for the best.” Grian packed up his things. “Hang on. Are you implying it’s my fault you’re stuck with a date tonight?”

“Maybe.”

“Harsh words, mate.” Grian pressed his mouth into a thin line. “And to think I was going to help you brainstorm ways to get out of your date.”

“You were?”

“I don’t know… maybe I should leave you to suffer.”

“But you know Scar better than I do. Surely you could-“

“Just because I could doesn’t mean I will.” Grian clenched his teeth to keep from laughing. Mumbo wasn’t in a good enough mindset for the date to go anything more than terribly. He was going to suffer for a few hours, sure, but that was the price he had to pay to lean into this a bit more.

“Please?”

“Maybe next time. If you aren’t blaming me for all your problems.”

“I’m not blaming you for all of my problems. Just the Scar related ones.”

Grian snorted. “That’ll become a majority of your problems if you’re not careful. I’ll sit this one out, thanks.”

“Grian!”

“Mumbo.” Grian finally let his grin loose. “Disappointed that you can’t pressure me the way Scar can pressure you? I’m unbreakable.”

Mumbo blinked, stopping in his tracks. He just stared at Grian for a moment. Grian paused as well. “What? Is there something in my hair?”

“No, I just thought of something. I have an idea for how I can get out of my date! Thanks, Grian!” Mumbo patted his shoulder and hurried off. And if Mumbo was blushing a little bit as he ran, Grian didn’t see it.

“Scar.” Mumbo said, slightly out of breath. “I can’t go on the blind date tonight.”

“You can’t? Why not?” Scar continued wiping the counter.

“Because whoever you’re setting me up with won’t compare to Grian.” Mumbo’s face burned as he said it, knowing this was a risky move.

Scar paused to look at him. “You’re interested in Grian?”

“I am. So, I cannot go on that date tonight because it wouldn’t be fair to them.” Mumbo swallowed harshly.

Was it too soon to say he was interested in Grian? Was it too early in his friendship with Scar? Would Scar tell Grian what he said? It was a risk, but Mumbo accepted that. Every encounter he’d had with Grian just made him more interested in the man. He’d give it his best shot if Scar decided to pressure him into taking action.

“Well, that’s good news! I’d hate to send you on a date with him if you weren’t remotely interested.”

What? Mumbo blinked. And then he blinked again. “The date tonight is with Grian?”

“Of course, of course.”

“How’d you manage that? Grian told me he’s not interested in dating.”

“He’s not. But Pearl and I can be really sneaky when we want to be. If I’m honest, he doesn’t actually know he’s going on a date with you tonight. It’s a surprise!” Scar grinned.

“What if this ruins how he views me?” Mumbo scrunched his eyebrows. “If he’s tricked into going on a date, he’s going to suspect that I had something to do with it.”

“Oh, no. Not at all. Grian’s a smart cookie, and he’ll know it was all me and Pearl. Well, mostly Pearl since this whole thing was her idea, but he won’t blame you for it. Promise.”

“Alright…” Mumbo hesitated. “If this goes badly, you’re going to owe me a lot, buddy.”

“Oh, don’t I know it.” Scar sighed. “If this goes badly, you understand that Grian will also be mad at me for being a part of it. I have nothing but hope that this will go well. For all of our sakes, Mumbo.”

Mumbo’s mustache twitched, but he tried to relax. Only a few more hours. You won’t mess this one up.

“What are we thinking for tonight?” Grian said absently, putting away his camera bag.

“I have reservations for us at that new restaurant downtown.”

“Reservations?

“You were the one who said we need to experience the community more. So, I’m not cancelling.” Pearl wrinkled her nose. “You would’ve ordered fast food if I hadn’t done it. This is significantly better.”

“Uh huh.”

“Actually, it’s about time that we head there. We will need time to order, after all.”

“Sure.” Grian ran a hand through his hair. “Good enough?”

“It never gets better for you,” Pearl replied.

“Hey!”

Pearl dragged Grian downtown rather quickly. “I made the reservation in your name, by the way.” She glanced at her phone. “You can go get the table. I need to take this call.”

“Right.” Grian shifted uncomfortably, but he walked into the restaurant, grateful it wasn’t too formal.

“Reservation for two. Under Grian?”

The server nodded. “Back here.”

Grian studied the menu, thinking about what he was going to get. He knew Pearl would expect him to pay this time, as she’d paid for the last meal they’d shared.

“Hi.”

Grian nearly jumped out of his skin. “Mumbo?”

Mumbo gave him an embarrassed smile. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Sorry.” He pulled out the chair across from Grian.

Grian put the menu down slowly. “They didn’t.”

“If by that you mean Scar managed to successfully set us up on a blind date with each other, then yes, they most certainly did.”

“Pearl…” Grian pressed his palms into his eyes. “I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming.”

“Neither of us did, mate. But if it makes you feel any better, I bullied Scar into paying for dinner.”

Grian’s hands retreated. “You did?”

“I told him that it’s his head if this goes wrong, and if it goes badly because we start arguing about who is paying for it, it’s completely his fault.”

“Wow.”

“I aim to impress,” Mumbo replied cheekily.

“You certainly did that.” Grian blushed slightly. “So, this is a date, then?”

“Afraid so. We have to at least try. For Scar’s sake, of course.”

“Of course.” Grian swallowed harshly.

After the initial moments where they both struggled to come up with things to say, the date went well. The food was good, the conversation was good, and Grian could almost convince himself that Mumbo had blushed at his attempts to flirt.

Eventually, the night came to a close, and Mumbo offered to take him home.

“Oh, that’s not necessary, Mumbo.”

“Isn’t it?” Mumbo smiled mischievously. “I believe it is my duty as the man who took you on this date to also be the one to take you home.”

“Don’t be cheeky. The reservation was in my name.”

“I still want to take you home,” Mumbo replied.

Grian’s face burned, but he still shook his head. “If only I was willing to make it that easy for you.”

Mumbo put his hand on Grian’s shoulder. “Well, if I can’t take you home, I can at least do this.”

Grian looked up, preparing to ask what exactly Mumbo meant by that when Mumbo kissed him. He froze, unsure how to react for a moment before melting into the kiss. Mumbo’s facial hair tickled his face, and Grian quietly loved it, using Mumbo’s tie to pull him even closer.

Mumbo laughed against his mouth when they pulled apart briefly. Grian pulled him right back in for another one, and Mumbo made a delighted noise as Grian’s hand wove its way into his hair.

“Scar’s going to be so smug about this,” Grian said quietly, nestling up against Mumbo on his couch.

“We’ll never be free of the teasing,” Mumbo agreed.

“He’s been trying to convince me to ask you out for years at this point,” Grian replied.

“Has he?”

“Yeah. I spent too much time in the library for Scar to not get suspicious. And he knew you were my type.”

“Ah.” Mumbo’s face grew warm. “So, when you called me, he knew exactly who I was then.”

“Yep.” Grian made sure to pop the ‘p.’ “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think he figured out how you felt about me until you told him. Otherwise, I would’ve heard about it.”

“I was very aware of that, believe me. I think he was starting to figure it out though. I asked about you way too much.”

“Very suspicious,” Grian mused. “But very worth it, don’t you think?”

Mumbo wrapped his arms around Grian to squeeze him in a tight hug. “Very worth it indeed.”

#grumbo month #grumbo #hermitshipping #grian #mumbo jumbo #pearlescentmoon #goodtimeswithscar #cloud writes

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