witchoftheflesh: (Action - Sleep)
Tonight was Supper Club and Adrian had absolutely intended to go, but he'd made the mistake of laying down on his bed after work. He'd been making sure he could reach every part of his Grove without having to be in physical contact with it. Next he'd test whether he could reach every part of it while not being in his Grove at all, but baby steps. So he'd lain down and sent his consciousness out to examine every corner of of the land.

And when he'd come back to himself, he realized he had suddenly gathered every animal in the house. Boston was in his preferred spot on Adrian's chest, Fanny was sprawled out half on his legs, and Yelena was somehow taking up more of the bed than should be possible and yet. But her head was rested on his arm and her paws were pressed against his ribs.

"You're the worst to share a bed with," he informed her, amused. "Even as a cat."

But there was no way he could move now, not with three different animals using him as a cushion. He wasn't a monster. And he, fool he was, had set his phone on his solar charger, which was out of reach for his bed.

"Well, I guess I'm here for awhile," he sighed. "...Damn, and I'm really hungry."
witchoftheflesh: Colin O'Donoghue as Hook from OUaT (Action - Walking Sunglasses Casual)
The massive black cat crouched inside his plastic carry crate, fluffy tail lashing with indignity. "I can't believe you stuck me in the middle seat."

"Would you rather I carried you in my lap?" asked the black-dressed man sitting in the window seat beside him. "And keep it down. Normal cats don't talk, remember?"

The cat lowered his voice to an angry hiss, which wasn't much of an improvement. "I'd rather not be on this flying death contraption in the first place. There's no anti-falling ward, no safety charms, no magic of any sort! We're just hurtling through the air in a metal cylinder powered by explosions." He turned his green-eyed glare on the happy family sitting across the aisle. "I'm amazed there are any scalies left if this is how they travel."

Don't be rude, Boston )

"Did she hire a bodyguard out of an abundance of caution or because she...?" Boston asked from his carrier.

"Cute that you think Aunt Muriel has ever given me a straight answer in my entire life," the witch snorted as he slid the phone back into his pocket. "Now be quiet. I can't do a Nevermind while walking, and this place is packed." The cat grumbled but didn't say another recognizable word as the witch began marching down the disembarkation tunnel toward the sunny, crowded airport terminal. Time to find a bodyguard with a sign. "Could have given me a little more of a description, Aunt Muriel," he muttered.

And just like that, his phone chimed with an incoming text. He dug it back out of his pocket and saw the message was just a phone number and a name. Yelena Belova.

[Adapted from Chapter 1 of Hell For Hire by Rachel Aaron. NFB for off-island, and for the grumpy Russian babysitter bodyguard.]

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witchoftheflesh: Colin O'Donoghue (Default)
Adrian Blackwood

March 2025

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