(Untitled)

[damngreenshoes]

TEXTS FROM LAST NIGHT

How To:

01. Post with your character and fandom.
02. In the box, put your text from last night. If you can't think of one, go to the TFLN site to find one. Please remember that you're the one texting the first message so please don't leave your comment blank.
03. Tag others to make it more fun! Mistexts happen all the time, right?

Comments

Evan McCartney | OC | ota

[bluntforces]

Already at the river; already getting fucked up. And yes that semicolon is legit because those are congruent statements.

[bluntforces]

I am 500% certain you look like a stone-cold fox.

[onlytolerable]

Is that good or bad? At the Outpost now. If I get lost, come find me!

[bluntforces]

Just a textcall away, my darling love.

[onlytolerable]

[There are...a lot of strangers here. She asks the driver again just to be certain (and is rewarded with a harried and impatient, Oui!) before forking over the fare. She shifts from foot to foot. No bright blond head. No Evan. What if she's at the wrong party? What if she's lost?

[Oh, God. What if she never finds home again? Stilling the panic takes effort but she manages to text with shaking fingers.]

Better find me soon before I have a meltdown and run into the night.

[After a moment, she lies sends another.] Joke.

[bluntforces]

[Distinct hair unfortunately masked by an Ava McCartney knit hat. But the message has him popping up from chatting up the pretty dark-haired girl he'd settled next to who looked nothing like Riley with whom he is not in love to start trawling for Sophie's distinct hair.

Which means she's not getting a text. She's getting a hug. And, well, a:] Don't punch. 's me.

[onlytolerable]

[She in no way, shape or form squeals when he grabs her. And a nudge (not too hard) in his ribs doesn't count as a punch, does it? Because how else are sparring partners supposed to say hello? And look, she even smiles as she hugs him back. Ignore any hint of wildness about her eyes.]

I thought you said there weren't any pretty girls? [She'd missed the Riley-alike, but there doesn't appear to be a dearth of them from what she can see.]

[bluntforces]

None of 'em are as pretty as you. [Now come be bundled in an Evan-clinging-hug forever and ever while he moves you both toward the beer.] An' really, mostly? None of 'em are smart as you.

[onlytolerable]

Sweet of him to say so when she's wearing her favorite ear flap hat, the one that makes her look like an escapee from the Andes. "I find that hard to believe. You're all learning so many things!" She sounds wistful because she is. Her formal training had been spotty, focused on what was necessary and nothing she'd consider well-rounded. "Is the library very grand?"

Ugh. This, Sophie, is why you don't go to parties. So what do you do at a university party besides drink beer and try to pick up girls...erm...people?"

[bluntforces]

Hey. Big hats are chic where the weather lives below freezing. And having a handsome CPA-in-training attached to you is surely also a fashionable accessory.

"Show ya the library t'morrow. We're also singin' in French at the moon down in the river. C'mon."

[onlytolerable]

She makes a point of searching around. "Handsome CPA-in-training? Where? This someone you're introducing me to?"

Then all thought of teasing abandons her as he threatens singing. Wait. He said, 'we.' That doesn't need to include her. "Take me to the booze, cher."

[bluntforces]

If she thinks she's getting a drink without singing, she's ridiculously mistaken. He'll even start her off with a firm kiss on the cheek before launching into the opening refrain of 'Prendre un verre de bière mon minou' as he leads her along.

See how much the actual Québécois are slurring it up? She can more than outsing them in this state.

[onlytolerable]

He can't--oh, no! He can't possibly intend for her to sing, can he? She doesn't do public singing. Her feet drag as she goes through her options:

1) Run away into the night, get lost forever Outside and never find her way home again and wind up being eaten by zombies.
2) Throw a bag over Evan's head and drag him far, far away from any semblance of party only to ruin his evening and probably not stop him from singing.
3) Brazen things through because no one here knows her except Evan, and she has enough blackmail material on him to make it so he doesn't ever think of pulling this at home.

Do you feel the glare daggers boring into your back, McCartney? "You know I don't sing!" she hisses, only she can and does and he's heard her. "I'll...faint or something!" Stalling, stalling, stalling.

[bluntforces]

Sophie, do you know how much Evan loves you. Do you feel how much he's being good for you.

"So just move yer lips along with the rest of us." Cheek-kiss and a beer pressed into her hand. "C'mon, Soph. 's just fun."

[onlytolerable]

He makes perfect sense. No one will notice if she's actually singing or not. Her heartbeat slows to a more reasonable pace. "For you, Evan. Only for you."

[bluntforces]

"E' je t'aime aussi, Sophie." Now suffer a firm kiss on the cheek as they break into a rousing, severely slurred round of 'The Night Pat Murphy Died.'