Nice Nature was sure this was some form of divine torture, and Three Goddesses was it divine.
Or: Nice Nature's summer at the cottage day at the Mejiro Estate.
Fic Info:
Rating: T
Pairing: Mejiro Ryan/Nice Nature, Mejiro McQueen/Nice Nature
Warnings: None
Tags: Sweat, Fantasizing, Muscles, I Don't Even Know, Fainting
press "Keep reading" to see the full fic, or read it on ao3!
(@umamusume-rarepairs-race)
Nice Nature looked down at the teacup cradled in her hands and the dark liquid swirling around leisurely inside. She'd arrived at the Mejiro Estate early that morning and had been thrust into exercises nearly as soon as she'd crossed the threshold, with not a moment to herself to breathe, let alone stop to think since then. Now it was tea time. She still didn't really get why they were stopping right before truly getting into the training they would be doing today, but she appreciated the break all the same; loathe as she was to admit it, her muscles were already starting to feel the burn.
But not being caught up in the motions of stretches or drills gave her time to think, and thinking was a dangerous thing.
Nature blinked back up at the exorbitant display of tea snacks towering before her. Across the mountain of bite-sized foods, McQueen and Ryan were chatting over their own cups of steaming tea. They fit right in with the grandiose backdrop of sitting room No. 5, and why wouldn't they, her brain helpfully supplied, they live here. Still, Nature couldn't help but feel the wide gap between them as she looked back down. She was pretty sure that the porcelain she was holding was worth more than her mom's entire restaurant. Wasn't that a crazy thought? Was it any wonder, then, that she could barely wrap her head around the idea that Ryan and McQueen wanted her to be there?
Why? Why would they invite her to intrude upon their training when she wasn't even half the runner either of them were?
"Nature, do you need more tea?"
McQueen's melodious tone broke Nature out of her thoughts before she could really get into her cycle of self-deprecation. She looked up from her tea with what she could only hope wasn't an obviously strained smile. "Ah, no, I still have plenty. Thank you, though."
"What did you think about the morning stretches?" Ryan asked politely. At least, Nature assumed she was asking just to be polite.
She struggled to find an apt response, unsure of what kind of answer Ryan was looking for, "They were... stretch-y? I'm very stretched now. I think?"
Her babbling was met with silence. Ryan gave her an incredulous look before bursting out in laughter. "Ryan!" McQueen chastised, though it wasn't very effective, being followed-up as it was with her own fit of giggles. Nature could feel her cheeks heating up. So obviously that had been the wrong thing to say.
Before she could say anything else and further her embarrassment, Ryan waved her hand in the air. "I promise I don't mean to laugh at you meanly. I've just never heard anyone describe stretches like that," she said, voice still cheery with amusement, "It's charming?"
Nature didn't know if she believed the compliment or if she thought Ryan was saying that to make her feel better. Either way, she wasn't given much time to think on the issue.
"Are you two done with your tea? It's about time now. Let's hit the course!" It was only after her declaration that Nature noticed Ryan's leg thumping rhythmically against the top of the table, unable to contain her energy any longer.
---
Nature had never run so much in her life, not even in any of the races she'd been in. Maybe that's why you always lose, a small voice in her head commented before she could squash it down. She was panting like a dog, trying to such enough oxygen into her lungs to keep herself going - her form was sloppy, but she just needed to make it back around to their starting point. Then she could be done, ready to cool down.
Her vision was darkening on the edges by the time she managed to jog back to where Ryan was leaning against the track's fence. And that was another thing: the Mejiros had their own private racetrack because of course they did (they actually had three, but that was besides the point). She handed Nature a green sports bottle and patted her on the shoulder, but the motion only made her aching muscles twinge.
"Sorry," Ryan said, pulling her hand back.
Nature tried to mumble something reassuring in-between guzzling up the water, which she knew she wasn't supposed to do, but the cold just felt so good. In the end, all she managed was, "S'okay. McQueen?"
"Oh, she's still running."
When those words made it past Nature's dulled senses and registered in her brain, she was sure her eyes bugged out of her skull. She knew McQueen had stamina, the uma was literally famous for her abilities as a stayer, but this was next-level. This was only practice. Nature turned back around, shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun as she looked out across the track.
Sure enough, there was McQueen, running on the long stretch directly across from where she and Ryan were standing, having just rounded the corner. Her form was still impeccable, and her speed was nothing to scoff at, either. If Nature didn't know any better, she'd think McQueen was on her fifth lap, not her tenth. Her lavender hair was flowing in the wind, catching the sun just right to give her the effect of a beautiful golden halo, and that was only how stunning she looked from far away. Nature couldn't tear her eyes away, watching McQueen run until she was slowing down to jog over and grab her own purple sports bottle.
Up-close, she was a dream. Her shirt clung to sweaty skin, soaked through with evidence of her hard work. Nature wanted to wring it dry for her and save some of the salty fluid for sampling.
She did not want to do that, and she wasn't sure where the thought had come from. No, it must have been her body's way of informing her of her own loss of sodium. It was the only logical explanation; she wanted to drink McQueen's sweat because her body craved salt. That had to be it. Then McQueen lifted the hem of her shirt to mop her brow and "logical" went out the window. Nature's thoughts stopped coming altogether. All that existed in that moment was the small expanse of exposed skin, the hint of toned muscle rippling beneath the surface, and the tiniest beginning of a deep indigo happy trail.
"How did I look?"
Nature squeaked and two sets of eyes turned to stare at her. Ryan opened her mouth to speak, probably to ask if she was okay, but Nature cut her off. "Actually, I think I'm going to go run another lap. Yeah, I've got another one in me. Bye." Before either of them could stop her, she tossed her bottle down in the general direction of the fence and took off down the turf.
---
After McQueen had her fill of running them into the dirt, Ryan had led the way to their home gym. Nature had welcomed the sweet relief of air-conditioning, at least until Ryan had handed her the hand-written training menu she had prepared for her. It was well-thought out and tailored to Nature's fitness goals, in a way that made her wonder if Ryan hadn't gotten together with her trainer at some point behind her back. However, it was also way more intense than Nature's typical work-out routine.
Thirty minutes in, and she felt like she was dying. It wasn't even the training that was killing her - if it was, Nature would have found some way to dig deep, push through, and all of that noise. Unfortunately, Nature's problems were all external.
If Nature had thought McQueen was a work of art out on the track, Ryan deep in a squat with a barbell loaded with more weight than she could fathom was a sculpture carved from the finest marble. Unlike McQueen, Ryan had decided to forego wearing a shirt, the only thing covering her top-half a sports bra that left every glistening muscle naked for Nature's pleasure. And, oh, did Ryan have muscles. Nature had heard she was into bodybuilding, but she'd never seen the results herself. After this experience, if anybody asked her, she could personally attest that all the work Ryan had put in had been absolutely worth it.
Even as she tried her best, Nature could barely focus on what she was doing. How could she when, to her left, Ryan's back muscles were on full display and to her right, McQueen was flexing her legs in ways more tantalizing than Nature thought possible? The sheen of sweat adorning both of them was the icing on top of the cake, and she could hardly stand it. Never before had a work-out tested her mental fortitude so much.
In the end, the final nail in her coffin had been her own imagination. Watching as another bead of sweat slid its way down Ryan's abs, she pictured her tongue gliding across the smooth surface on her way to catch it. It had been too much. She passed out mid-squat. The phantom tinge of salt sat heavy on her tongue. She must really need to refuel her electrolytes. It was probably because she had been drinking all of that water earlier; she needed a proper sports drink. That was the last thought that crossed her mind as everything went black.
Nature came to with the hum of florescent lights. McQueen was waving her hand in her face. "Can you hear me?"
"Uh-huh," she nodded.
"Alright, good. Can you sit up?" It took some coaxing and a bit of help from McQueen, but Nature managed to get into a proper sitting position. When she did, McQueen shot her a smile that nearly laid her back out on the floor. "Here," she said, handing Nature a purple sports bottle, the closest one, "Drink this."
She was sure this was some form of divine torture, and Three Goddesses was it divine. The purple bottle was McQueen's. She was was being asked to share an indirect kiss with McQueen. How was she meant to survive this? She must've hesitated for too long because McQueen grabbed the bottle back.
"If you're that concerned about the germs, I'll wipe them off."
Before Nature could object, McQueen started to rub the opening of the bottle clean using her shirt. Her shirt. Her sweat-soaked shirt. When she finished, she handed the bottle back to Nature, who accepted it with shaking hands.
Would it taste like her?
With that thought, Nature brought the bottle to her lips and tipped her head back. The icy drink felt good against her chapped lips, which was strange. She didn't remember them getting chapped. Flavor was the first thing she registered - not sweat but the taste of orange. She took a sip and put the bottle down. This was good, hopefully the drink would help, and hopefully she'd stop wanting to drink sweat.
"How are you feeling?"
"McQueen, I think I'm dying." She hadn't meant to say that. It just sort of tumbled out. McQueen chuckled and it sounded like music.
"I think you're just dehydrated and you overworked yourself. Don't worry, Ryan went to go get the family doctor, so we'll find out who's right soon enough."
Nature nodded. That sounded right. The doctor would find out what was wrong with her, and then she'd stop thinking about sweat and how pretty McQueen and Ryan were. The Mejiro family doctor would surely know what to do. Wait a minute. The Mejiro family doctor? Haven't I heard about that somewhere?
Through the haze clouding her mind, Nature was able to recall a memory of Twin Turbo running up to her with tears in her eyes, recounting the harrowing tales of Tokai Teio's visit to the Mejiro Estate, namely her many frightening run-ins with their scary family doctor.
"On of the things I love the most about travelling with my adventuring crew is experiencing so many different cultures. We live in such a beautiful and colourful world, and it shows in the myriad of people living across this star.
Furthermore the food! Oh my goodness I have tasted so many different foods and they're all so delicious!"
There are some things in Remus’s life that are undeniably, inarguably true.
Remus Lupin is a wizard. That is true.
Remus Lupin transforms into a terrible beast every 29 days. That is true.
Remus Lupin is irrevocably in love with his best friend’s younger brother. That is true.
The day he realizes he loves Regulus Black, it doesn’t come as a surprise. Of course, I love him, he thinks. What isn’t there to love?
Remus loves Regulus’s sense of humor. It’s dry and witty and sends everyone around him into fits of laughter, even as he himself keeps a straight face. Remus loves making Regulus laugh. It’s a rare but beautiful sound, light and fleeting. And he loves the smile that accompanies it. Thin lips stretched wide, displaying perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth.
Remus loves Regulus’s eyes, so light that they’re almost grey. He loves the way they shine silver when he gets teary-eyed—a sight Remus has only seen twice. He loves how they glimmer when he looks at Remus.
Remus loves Regulus’s hair. He loves how his black curls frame his delicate face and how he tucks a strand behind his hair when he gets excited or nervous. He loves to run his hand through it, separating the knots, or grabbing it tightly to pull their lips together.
Remus loves Regulus’s brain. Always ten steps ahead of everyone around him, he could solve any problem set before him. He excels in classes, but more than that, he just is smart. He seems to know everything about everything, and every time he gets started on a new topic, all Remus can do is stare in awe as he listens.
Remus loves Regulus’s lips. He loves the way they feel against his own, soft and pliant, opening and inviting him to explore his mouth when they kiss. He loves the way Regulus’s lower lip feels between his teeth when he sucks it between his own.
Remus loves Regulus’s body. He can’t get enough of the way Regulus’s smooth, cold skin feels against his own or the overwhelming heat when he sinks into him. He may truly be addicted to the way his thumbs fit into the dip by his hipbones and the way his thighs shake and his back arches when he finally goes over the edge.
Remus loves Regulus’s gentleness. It’s a trait that gets hidden away, one that even his closest friends barely get to see. But Remus sees it. Remus sees it every 29 days, after he’s lived through yet another terrible transformation, left weak and pathetic. He sees it in the way Regulus cares for him, making sure he eats enough and sleeps enough. He holds Remus in his arms and whispers soothing words and smooths his hair out of his face.
Remus loves Regulus’s excitement. It’s another trait that he likes to hide behind his mask of indifference, but you don’t love someone the way Regulus loves Remus without showing the brightest parts of yourself. He gets excited about very specific things: potions, magical theory, and a Muggle fantasy book series Remus had introduced him to back when they were just friends. He was absolutely adorable when he got excited—a huge grin on his face and bouncing on the balls of his feet like a child. It’s the most carefree Remus ever gets to see him, and he wouldn’t trade those moments for anything.
Remus loves Regulus’s darkness. He loves every part of his boyfriend, and not just the bright, happy parts. And not despite the dark parts. The terrible family that had raised him and the bigoted ideals he’s still trying to unlearn and the intense bouts of anxiety and sorrow he experiences are all a part of who he is, and Remus loves all of it.
Remus loves Regulus. He loves him with the very core of himself. With every part of him that makes him Remus, he loves every part of his boyfriend that makes him Regulus. And maybe, just maybe, one day he’ll be brave enough to tell him.
My first Whump-y? fic. (Cause it's so short does it make it a whimper??) Short read. Blame @angelwings-crossbowstrings cause they encouraged me to post something.
Sitting on his bed, eyes transfixed on the window too small to get through even before they added bars, Negan's face crumples. He doesn't know which is worse; longing for the freedom he can't have or living with the fact that he's used to it. Used to the bars and cinderblock walls. Used to meals he was pretty sure Maggie spit in, that is, if she deigned to deliver.
Hell used to be fire and brimstone, hot pokers and boiling oil. Now it was iron and concrete and blanket that made him scratch until his skin felt raw. No comforts. No work. Just a tiny window and a tennis ball.
“You don't look like a Wilson.” he hucked it at the far wall imagining it being able to hit the sun he rarely saw. He caught it and tossed it again. Imagined shattering that beast of a fire ball in the sky if only so he could plunge the whole world in to the same dark he suffered day after day.
He could live without light. He'd proven that. Lucille dying… the whole world had turned to pitch and him right along with it. That's why he was here. He'd made sure everyone knew what his isolation tasted like. And now? He was forced to eat that crow, day after day, after day.
The ball snaps against the wall, the floor, his palm; over and over until his shoulder aches. It wears him down but there isn't anything else to do when he's stuck by himself. Hell! Even jerking off has lost its luster. Surprise Gabriel once or twice and suddenly the whole thing is fucking mundane.
Frustration changes the rhythm. The ball pops off the wall, skipping the floor and it skims his outstretched fingertips. The thing goes wild and he's scrambling for it seeing just a half second before where it'll land.
“Shit!” he bangs his knee on the floor as it rolls between the bars. His shoulder slams into the iron, bruise like pain blooming along his collar and the side of his face but he's too late. Hand outstretched he's reaching for something else he can't have.
It taps the far wall and stops.
Just like him it was stuck on the wrong side of the bars.
[Prompt 3]
Character A: Shit, you're covered in blood-"
Character B: Nah, it's cool, it's not mine :).
Character A: Oh, thank god.
Character A: ...
Character B: :)
Character A: Wait, what-?
Prompt - In Vino Veritas (Aka Drunken Confessions)
Fandom - G1 Bionicle (Warrior Mata/Ivory AU (aka the AU I made of Mata Nui being partially spilt from his main body and arriving on Bara Magna earlier than in canon and having to join the arena to survive)
Ship - Mata Nui/Ackar (ft. bg ships of Kiina/Gresh and Tarix/Vastus)
Archive Warnings - None
Rating - Teen and Up
Extra - Drunken Characters, Drinking Game, Technically Teen Drinking (aka Kiina and Gresh are Glatorian equivalent of teenagers but it's the post apocalypse wasteland I don't think they care), drunken Mata Nui, established relationships X3, headcanons
Gresh whistled, “Damn that fifteen shots now.” He mused, impressed. “Usually people tap out by now.” He added. “Maybe this should be considered a draw?” Tarix suggested, Kiina whipped her head to him so fast it was a miracle she didn’t get whiplash. “I am not losing to this damn twink, I haven’t lost a drinking contest yet I won’t lose one now fucker!” She snapped at him, immediately pouring up more shots.
--
When under the influence most drunken actions and words are sober thoughts, liquid courage as its called at times
And for a half mortal exiled Great Spirit it helps him get his romantic thoughts out to his mortal war veteran lover
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Haaaaiii ignore how behind I am this first week of October has not been the best mental state wise so I apologize a lot of shit has happened that's just made me more mentally and emotionally exhausted than normal so I just haven't been motivated to write so I'm sorry for how late this is
