the ingenues

Lifeguard!AU that doesn’t go how Lance expected

“Pidge, Pidge, listen to me. I need you to pretend to drown.”

Pidge spat out her mouthful of lemonade in a spray that only barely missed Lance’s face.

“What the fuck?” she spluttered.

Lance pulled his sunglasses off the top of his head to check them for lemonade splatter before replacing them and tousling his hair over them.

“I need you to pretend to drown.”

Hunk looked 110% skeptical of Lance’s ingenuity and Lance would be insulted but he’s still too busy ogling the hot lifeguard across the pool from the corner of his eye.

“Lance, I really don’t think that’s a safe–”

“Trust me, big guy, this plan is perfect. Pidge will go in and pretend to drown and shit, then I’m gonna jump in like a fucking hero and drag her out. Then I’ll put her on the deck and be all “everyone clear out! Give her some space!” and hot lifeguard dude will be so impressed with the speed of my response and he will definitely fall in love with me.”

“You want my sister to risk her life to be your inanimate wing-person?” Matt said incredulously.

“Well, I mean, she’s gonna be totally safe. I’m the–”

“–closest that Cuba’s ever gotten to a Michael Phelps, yeah, we’ve heard this before, McClain-the-almost-Olympian.” Lance pouted as Matt cut him off to finish his statement. “Okay, so it’s not like my sister’s life is in real jeopardy, fish man, but I still don’t like even the possibility of getting her in harm’s way, so I’ll be your wing–er, fin-person.”

Lance’s eyebrows flew up into his hairline.

“Oh my God, man, you’d do that for me?!”

“Well, no. I’d do it for Pidge, because I know you’d somehow guilt or challenge her into actually going along with your crap.”

Lance dragged Matt into the best rendition of a bone-crushing Hunk-hug he possibly could. The elder Holt let out a breathless “oof!”.

“Just so we’re clear, I’m not a fish man–no gills, just skills!”

Matt laughed and cuffed Lance in the shoulder.

“Sure, buddy.“


Yeah, that totally did not go according to plan. Instead of the heroic rescue Lance was envisioning (which would have been a million times easier if it had been Pidge’s tiny frame rather than Matt’s much taller and considerably bulkier one), somehow Matt’s overly-convincing flailing limbs (didn’t he know that drowning people were usually a lot more… still?) managed to catch Lance across the face, stunning him long enough to send him under. Normally Lance could shake it off and get back up for air, but in the panic Matt’s scene was causing, there were a bunch of pool patrons rapidly trying to flee the scene. Lance ended up getting buffeted by legs and arms of all shapes and sizes, and started to get seriously concerned he wasn’t gonna be able to come up for air. Finally, his vision started to blur as his lungs burned for oxygen and an arm curled around his chest, this time guiding him toward the air rather than further underwater.

As soon as his head broke the surface Lance coughed and choked on a massive gulp of air, his air-starved brain too addled to prioritize between clearing out the water or sucking in the precious, precious oxygen. He ended up inhaling about two-thirds water with that breath and couldn’t seem to cough it back out.

Next thing he knew, he was being lain out on the rough concrete of the pool deck and there were hands poised over his breastbone–

“WAIT! KEITH, STOP!”

The hands paused and Lance blinked rapidly, trying to clear the dark spots from his vision. He looked up at his savior, and holy fucking shit, hot lifeguard dude was fucking gorgeous. And wet. And currently touching Lance’s bare chest over his hammering heart.

“The guy’s breathing, I think he’s just shocked. He’s got a pulse, he’s gonna be okay.”

Whoa, hot lifeguard dude’s friend, buff lifeguard dude, was also pretty hot. And super buff.

“Oh God, Shiro, he started choking once I got him out of the water, then went limp and unresponsive–”

“Hey, hey, I know, it’s okay.” Buff lifeguard dude’s hands closed over hot lifeguard dude’s wrists to help him stop his hands from shaking. Lance decided breathing would be a good thing to get the hang of right at that moment.

He coughed and hacked violently for a bit until he finally took in his surroundings. Matt was sitting not far from him, also dripping wet and looking mildly horrified but otherwise fine. Pidge was at her brother’s side, white as a ghost. Hunk was hovering behind them, wide, terrified eyes on Lance.

Both hot lifeguard dude and buff lifeguard dude were staring at him too.

Lance realized he should say something smooth and intelligent.

“Wow, dickwad, you didn’t even do a pulse check before attempting to break my fucking ribs?”

Ah, yes. Lance was the epitome of suave and charming.

Hot lifeguard dude went red–from rage or embarrassment, Lance had no idea.

“I just saved your life!” he exclaimed, gesticulating wildly. Buff lifeguard dude had to back off a few inches to avoid getting socked in the face. “I mean, you were unresponsive for thirty seconds, I figured you needed chest compressions just like any other unconscious choking person!”

Oh, right, he was technically choking on water.

“Yeah, well maybe I just wanted some mouth-to-mouth, okay?” he retorted.

Wait. Shit.

Hot lifeguard dude was red before, but now he was… really red.

Lance fumbled to sit up properly as they guy finally said, “But… that’s not… how CPR works? We start with chest compress–”

“I’m a paramedic, I know how fucking CPR works,” Lance interrupted. Hot lifeguard dude’s mouth clicked shut. He was really fucking cute, dammit. “I also know your ass looks amazing in those red trunks and I’d love for you to show me how that works.”

If Lance didn’t know better about human physiology, he would’ve assumed hot lifeguard dude was a few seconds away from spontaneously bursting into flames. The guy scrambled back a few inches, seemingly desperate to put a bit of space between them.

Okay, ouch, he didn’t mean to cause that much anxiety or anything.

“Hey, hey, no need to be a flustered mess. We can try this again.” He scooted forward a bit, watching hot lifeguard dude’s reactions very carefully. Dark indigo ink eyes tracked his advance warily, but he didn’t move any further back.

“Hi, I’m Lance. Wanna grab dinner with me and then watch Netflix in our jammies?”

“I’m Keith,” hot lifeguard dude said gruffly, thrusting out his hand. Lance shook it. They were both still wet from the whole nearly-dying-in-the-pool thing.

“Also… uh, that sounds… nice?”

Lance just laughed and let hot lifeg–Keith help him to his feet.


“I cannot believe that actually ended up fucking working,” Pidge said in awe.

Hunk shrugged, “Well, that’s Lance for you. Paramedic by day, and sometimes night, or whatever comes in between, and future Olympian in his spare time.”

Matt rolled his eyes from where he was sitting on one of the pool benches, toweling his hair dry-ish. “Yeah, so no one cares that I almost drowned?”

Just then, buff lifeguard dude (because seriously, this guy was fucking ripped) put a hand on Matt’s shoulder and Matt jumped nearly three feet into the air with a squeaky shriek.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” he yelled.

Buff lifeguard dude somehow looked bashful despite his buffness.

“Sorry, I just… I figured you need to get checked out properly, after all that.“

Matt’s eyes narrowed and he waggled his eyebrows in a weirdly Lance-like fashion that scared the shit out of Pidge. “So you’re saying you’re coming over here to check me out?”

Buff lifeguard dude looked stricken before he honest-to-God blushed.

“I’m Shiro,” he said, endearingly awkward as he extended his hand for Matt to shake.

“Matt.”

“What the fuck,” Pidge said.


I couldn’t resist throwing in the Shatt… hahahaha

Happy Lance Month! Working another 26h shift tomorrow so probably won’t be posting anything. Hopefully I’ll have another little ficlet written on Sunday. Feel free to send me prompts, feedback, suggestions, or comments! :)

she was fire and rain. she sounded like confidence and smelled like virtue. she flirted with the truth and persecuted lies. she danced awkwardly and laughed too loudly, and was loved for it. she was the kind of girl that screamed what she wanted and whispered what she needed. she listened to top 40 and indie and classic rock, anything with lyrics that filled her with warmth like butterflies. she wore black leather jackets and dark red lipstick to show people the walls around her heart instead of telling them about it. she tore through books faster than lightning because words are the only way she’s learned to deal with anything. she swallowed her pain like pills and handed out pieces of her love like fliers. she loved sunsets and their pink and orange clouds, and how nature always gave us a beautiful ending to every day. she was wildflowers and bubbling springs when she loved, but teeth and flashing red moons when on her bad side. she liked to think that people were everything good and everything bad, and that she herself was some beautifully cruel mystery.

so i wanna talk about dead or alive, the fighting game series

and i am absolutely gonna throw myself under the bus with this post and reveal my power level as the ultimate horny boy

i do this because i find the information i possess to be absolutely hilarious and 100% worth sharing

so

dead or alive 5, the fighting game, got a pc release, right 

dead or alive, in case you didn’t know, is a series known primarily for its cast of extremely conventionally attractive female characters, and said character’s ridiculously hypermobile titties 

so what happens when a game full of sexy ladies gets a pc release

titty mods happen

now, the creators of DOA5 know this, and basically said to PC gamers “if you nude mod this, we won’t give you Dead or Alive Xtreme 3″ 

Dead or Alive Xtreme 3 being a spinoff of the DOA series which foregoes all of the “fighting game” nonsense and focuses exclusively on bouncing titties and extremely small swimsuits

basically, the developers gave PC gamers a choice: eat dinner now and wait for desert later, or have your desert now and never eat again 

PC gamers chose the latter option and nude modded DOA5. they nude modded the shit out of DOA5. they made nude mods for DOA5 that were so high quality you would think you were looking at real photos of human beings if it weren’t for the impossible anime faces on them

and when DOAX3 released, PC gamers asked “where’s our one?” and the devs responded “you don’t get to have any. we warned you and you didn’t listen, and now you don’t get DOAX3.” 

too bad how sad, right? 

wrong

in response to this, PC modders bought PS4 copies of DOAX3 and just… ripped everything out of it. hacked the game, took out all of the models, animations, and costumes, and modded them back in to DOA5

so basically, PC modders meticulously recreated DOAX3 in DOA5. everything that mattered. 

and the funniest part of all of this?

DOA5 is free to play on PC

so when the developers of DOA denied DOAX3 to PC players, PC players responded by creating a completely free version of DOAX3 for themselves, with titties and everything. the DOA devs played themselves. 

i just think that this whole sequence of events is fucking hilarious. the sheer gall. the determination. the way things unfolded. it’s all so goddamn funny. the ingenuity, the community collaboration, the acts of defiance, all in the name of rendering a naked anime boob in 4K. it’s so goddamn funny.  

America has fallen to invaders. But somewhere in occupied San Francisco lurks a dangerous resistance cell, equipped with firearms, ingenuity, and a seemingly limitless supply of C4: the Mythbusters.

Hey kids let’s get meta for a moment.

Let’s say aliens are real, and let’s say we communicate with them, and let’s say they find out about this weird internet thing where humans write little mini stories about future human interactions with aliens.

Can you imagine how fucking confused and concerned they would be? These two-legged assholes who were so enamored with the concept of meeting other intelligent species, even though for the longest time they had NO CONCLUSIVE PROOF that said other species exist, that they wrote stories about those other species, to the point of making up creatures and systems of mood communication and names for their made up aliens? 

Which brings me to my Great Theory About The Purpose Of Storytelling: it’s practice. We tell stories about that time we had the flu really bad to practice getting the flu with our friends so we all know how to properly manage the symptoms. We tell stories about our children to practice dealing with their unpredictability. We tell stories about war and famine and pestilence to practice dealing with disaster. And we tell stories about aliens to practice etiquette for dealing with aliens. 

We tell stories of our own ferocity and ingenuity to practice for the day we have to either defend our planet or invite ourselves into an alliance. We tell stories of our aggressive pack-bonding to practice bonding with creatures that are literally alien to us. We tell stories about trading chores for passage on space ships to practice Just Because They’re Aliens Doesn’t Mean You Can Be Rude. 

And of course, if we can practice bonding and cooperating with creatures that may not even breathe oxygen, we can practice bonding and cooperating with each other.

you looked over across the room at her. and there she was. her head tossed back, long hair flipped over one shoulder to frame the right side of her face. she is laughing, showing off all of her teeth, her nose scrunched up in the way you used to love. her eyes meet yours for a split second, and then it hits you. it’s her, it’s been her the day she walked into your English class two years ago. but then she’s looking away, the same smile still on her face, and you know that she’s never going to be yours again.
—  wish we could turn back time

i. I miss you. each day that you’ve been gone has felt like a bullet hole in my chest, and whenever I try to pull it out another one takes its place. I’ve missed you so much that looking at you hurts, because all it does is bring back everything I’ve ever felt for you and suddenly I can’t breathe. so whenever you look at me and I turn away, please don’t take that as an “I hate you,” but an “I hate that I can’t look at you without dying inside.”

ii. you are beautiful. you are so lovely in your own conventional way that everyone else are flecks of brown and gray. you are wildflowers in june, the eye of a hurricane, city lights at midnight, sunlight through glass. there is nothing manufactured, nothing plastic about your eyes formed from stars and the freckled marks of the earth sprayed across your cheeks.


iii. I will never leave you. I know the last time you let me in your heart I fumbled and let it break, but please forgive me. I was blindsided and weak and I will gladly spend forever making up my mistakes to you. I have always loved you and always will, it just took me a little longer to realize. but you always knew this, and if you’re still sure then say the word and I will be too.


iv. I love you. not the kind of traditional, puppy-eyed love, but the kind that breaks down walls and can be heard from miles away. the kind that romeo and juliet died for, the kind that our grandparents live for. I love you the same way the ocean loves the shoreline, and no matter how many times I am drawn away, I will always find my way back to you.

—  all I ever wanted to hear
Sweet-Talker

Or, How Bucky Won Over The Hammer Of Thor.

(Here on AO3) 

Thor enjoyed the pleasant fragrances of Midgardian soaps. The one in the common-floor bathroom was labelled “Lavender Daydream” and was tinted a mild purple. It had a gentle floral scent with a slightly acrid undertone, and Thor wondered absently if Midgard had an actual plant named lavender, or if it was like blue-flavored drinks, with no non-artificial analogue. With Midgard, there was no way to tell. Regardless, it was a pleasing scent, and Thor would enjoy the soothing scent and gentle moisturizing properties of the liquid. 

Midgard was such a fascinating world. 

Thor toweled his hands dry and stepped out of the bathroom, intending to head towards the kitchen. Bruce had left some curry in the fridge, and Thor wanted to test his mettle against his perennial foe, the spicy pepper. 

He took one imperious stride into the common room and tripped. He caught himself on lavender-scented palms, just shy of sprawling flat on his face on the carpet. 

Sitting innocently in the middle of the hallway was Mjolnir. 

Strange. He was sure he’d left his hammer on the sofa. 


kingofmemes posted:

common room rules state that anything unlabeled is fair for anyone to use. shoulda put a sticky note on your mythological weapon of unimaginable power before you left it on my seat buddy

Posted at 3:23 pm, 4729 notes

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