Adaman based Drabble!

For reference I suck at naming things so my Google doc for this is just named “I have no plan I’m listening to the beegees”.

This is a little LOONG overdue story inspired by a commission of Adaman and Melli I received from fungusfangs on Twitter early last year!! Links work a bit off here so if you want a direct Link to the drawing, I added it imbedded in my tumblr post with this story as well!!

This is just simply stuffing and bloating themed!

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Adaman was, to his very best effort, very respectful. At least to the leaders and important people he respected in turn. He would accept meetings on the drop of a coin, regardless of the type of meeting. Which also included dinner meetings, much to his chagrin.

The Galaxy Clan was always overbearingly generous with their meals whenever a meeting was to be had over one, and Adaman always left with a stomach achingly full of potato mochi, potato mochi, and potato mochi. He was honestly unsure if the people in Jubilife Village ate anything other than potato mochi. Beni probably made a fortune off of them.

At his own meetings, Adaman could easily turn away food— actually preferring to do so to keep a mind clear enough to give a reputable statement to whoever took time out of their schedule to travel there. But if food was placed in front of him while trying to make a good impression while someone else spoke, Adaman ate it without complaint.

“People hate it when you hate their food. So it’s a good thing that you pack away whatever crap they serve you,” Melli had said the previous day, after Adaman had definitely overdone it and definitely swore about it. He would have rather been smited on the spot by the Almighty Sinnoh than deny a fourth serving prepared by Warden Calaba. He was unsure if he greatly respected the insanely elderly woman or greatly feared her.

“I’m just glad I can eat a normal sized meal tomorrow,” Adaman puffed uncomfortably past his overfilled stomach, pulling the edges of his kimono over himself. He didn’t wear loose clothing because he was prone to unintentionally showing off his meals after eating them, but he was sure thankful he did.

“Don’t free up your schedule so fast,” Melli said with a snicker, receiving a premeditated smack to the hand just as he started to reach out to give Adaman’s stomach a poke. “You never know who might be expecting your attendance, hm?”

“Tomorrow is free,” Adaman said, pushing his touchy warden an arm’s length away from him. “I was already warned that Calaba would be cooking today a week ago, and I know I’ll still be recovering tomorrow. I don’t much like to take meetings consecutive days in a row, and you are fully aware of this, Melli.”

His petulant friend only rolled his eyes with his usual smarmy grin plastered over his face. Adaman chose to ignore it, as he usually did. It was practically Melli’s resting expression.

Of course Adaman was still suffering from his massive dinner the next day. Despite having enough time to digest, he still felt full and bloated, even nearing lunch time. He just wasn’t accustomed to the foods that the Pearl Clan gathered for their meals. Lots of juicy fruits that grew in the icy weather that Adaman wasn’t used to eating. Or maybe it was the pop pods that Calaba raved about as an ingredient. The pop pods that could be collected scarcely in the icelands were much different than the ones found by the coast.

In the end, it didn’t matter how Adaman felt about yesterday’s dinner. He’d already skipped breakfast, and running on nothing until dinner wouldn’t have him making any sound leader decisions. So he found himself something for lunch.

He was midway through when Melli came out of nowhere and sat down next to him, remaining quiet. That in itself wasn’t too concerning, until Mai sat down across from the both of them, looking confusedly at Adaman.

“…What?” He asked her. Mai simply recoiled in equal confusion, making a face at him.

“What do you mean, what? What are you doing here?”

“Don’t make me repeat that in a question,” Adaman grumbled, and Mai swung her head to look towards Melli with an unenthusiastic brow raised.

“You didn’t tell him the meeting with Commander Kamado at the highlands was moved to today, did you, Melli?” She asked, and Adaman whipped around to glare at the warden.

“Was I supposed to?” He asked innocently, but a wicked smile still sat on his lips. Adaman just groaned, leaning his forehead against his bent wrist, his hand still holding the core of a sitrus fruit with a single bite remaining.

“Greeaaat. When am I supposed to be there?” Adaman asked, and Mai pursed her mouth into a sympathetic smile.

“In about 15 minutes,” she said. “Probably should have left well over an hour ago.”

Adaman swore, groaning irately as he rushed to his feet, hurrying to discard his scraps and start off out of the mirelands. It was a good two hour walk to the usual meeting grounds— an hour and a quarter if he ran some of the way there— but Adaman was just going to have to suck up the fact that he was going to be late. A little groveling to the Commander if things went south never hurt. Adaman was rarely late, considering how precious his time was every second of almost every day.

Only a few minutes into his panicked jog, Adaman felt a awful crick in his side, and he was forced to slow his roll. This also meant that he finally noticed Melli’s footsteps catching up behind him.

“Oh, so now you want to be helpful,” Adaman groaned through half grit teeth, digging his hand into the side of his stomach to try to knead the cramp out.

“Well someone’s gotta babysit you on your way over so you don’t drop from a tummy-ache!” Melli retorted, and Adaman shot him a haggard glance. He wasn’t going to entertain that humor. Melli wasn’t either, it would seem.

“Better put some pep in that step if you don’t want the Commander to start to worry. He may just assume you forgot and leave before you get there!”

Adaman frowned in disbelief at Melli’s words, but at the same time… he didn’t want to risk that. So, begrudgingly, he let Melli hurry him along by his wrist. Perhaps there was a serious lapse of his judgment.

By the time the members of the Galaxy Team were just visible in the distance, Adaman tugged his arm free, shoving Melli’s hand away. His lunch had entirely fought against him, shaken roughly in his stomach as he ran and making him even more bloated than he’d felt that morning. He felt a bit queasy at the fruit churning in his upper belly and, while he fully planned to take a moment's pause to catch his breath enough to speak properly to the Commander, he looked up to see the man already approaching him.

“Adaman! It's a relief to see you, we almost started off back to Jubilife,” Kamado said, all while Adaman had a fist pressed tightly to his mouth to stifle a full hiccup. To his (very brief) relief, Melli spoke up for him.

“So sorry we’re late, Commander!” He said sing-songily. “Someone forgot that the meeting was rescheduled to noon today, so we had to hurry him through lunch before racing over.”

If Adaman didn’t immediately loath Melli for what he just said u, he certainly did afterwards. Melli leaned himself slightly to thread his arm through the back of Adaman’s kimono, playing as though he would rest his hand on the small of his back. Instead, he grabbed a fistful of Adaman’s clothing at the side of his waist, pulling the fabric taught and fully exposing his bloated and groaning midsection.

“Oh— don’t worry if you happen to hear what sounds like a drowning growlithe. It's just the aforementioned ‘lunch’ not appreciating said ‘racing’,” Melli explained, gently patting his hand over Adaman’s stomach. “Poor thing always bloats so bad when he doesn’t let his food settle.”

Adaman stammered awkwardly at the situation, gathering just enough thoughts to uncrimp Melli’s fingers from his clothing and slide his arm off from around him.

“Wh-uh—… well…” he stumbled his words as he focused on hurriedly patting his clothing back into place and shoving the sadist next to him away by his shoulder. “Shall we just… go over what you were planning to talk about…?”

Kamado only chuckled lightheartedly, turning to look at a Galaxy member behind him, carrying a few woven boxes of what Adaman could only nauseously deduce was a few servings of potato mochi.

“Of course. Perhaps I should just send these home with you instead of serving them here.”