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VLDWhumpmas Day 9: Broken limbs, cuts, bruises Okay so majority wanted either Keith or Lance. Well, as I like to say, why not both?? College AU: Pre-Klance (Tw: Car Accident) Keith can’t see much, not with the snow whipping against his windshield in blinding sheets. He takes to the road slowly, cautiously, squinting as he hunches over the wheel as if attempting to cut through the snow with a sharp gaze.

His knuckles are white from a deathly tight grip around the wheel, and he just barely presses down on the gas, going a safe 30 mph. Despite poor visibility, he can make out a few signs pointing toward his college. A breath of relief slips from tightly pressed lips, and then he feels a large jolt, hears a loud crunch, and jerks to the side– everything going black almost instantly. ***** Lance is scrambling out of his car the second he makes impact. His wrist is twisted in a frightening way after having gotten caught in the wheel from frantic turning to avoid collision. His heart is practically leaping out of his throat, he’s shaking hard, both from shock and the icy wind, but all he cares about is getting to the other driver. He holds his uninjured hand up to shield his eyes from the bitter wind and snow as he stumbles toward the other car.

He’s legs tremble and buckle with each step, but he makes it, breath catching in his throat as he spots Keith from the floor above him leaning lifeless against the driver side’s window, with cracked, spiderwebbed glass that’s littered with pricks of blood circling Keith’s head. “Shit,” Lance mutters before stumbling toward the passenger side. Thankfully, his car hit more on the back then the front, so he’s able to pry the passenger door open with some force. “Keith!” At his name, Keith’s eyes snap open, and for a moment, he can’t see much of anything for his surroundings look as if he’s floating under murky water. But, he can still hear his name– it sounds faint, but it’s growing louder with every blink. “Keith, buddy, you gotta wake up!” Lance is climbing across the passenger seat to get to Keith, not even able to feel the pain of his wrist thanks to heightened adrenaline.

The shouting is only further aggravating the pounding in Keith’s temples. He wants it to stop, but the person sounds panicked, close. Slowly, he looks over to see Lance from school staring at him– deep blue irises impossibly large. “Lance?” “Thank God,” Lance mutters before climbing out of the car.

“Hang on!” He shouts, racing around the car to get back to the driver’s side. He slips twice, using his injured hand to steady himself both times, but he can’t feel much except overwhelming relief that Keith isn’t dead. When he gets to the door, he opens it slowly, cautiously, dropping to a crouch the second he gets it open all the way. A wince pulls at his face when he catches sight of the deep purple bruise splayed across Keith’s temple and down toward his eye. “Keith,” Lance says again, voice taking on a pleading tone once more.

Keith is slow to respond. He can hear Lance, but he can’t get his muscles to move fast.

He turns toward the brunet, squinting down when he feels a slight pressure on his thigh. He sees a tan hand that’s triple in size and colored light purple and yellow.

A frown tugs at the corners of his lips as he slowly pulls his gaze to meet Lance’s. “ your hand.” Ignoring this, Lance reaches up with his good hand, gentle fingers ghosting the bruise along Keith’s head. “I think you’re concussed.” “M'not.” The sloppy slur is enough of an answer for Lance. He’s just reaching for Keith’s phone when he hears it– a faint echo of a siren that flutters along the sharp wind. The seconds to follow bring flashing lights, and Lance isn’t sure who called– probably someone from the store next door– but his shoulders slump with relief, and his good hand clutches tightly to Keith’s coat as the ambulance pulls into sight. ***** Sound comes back first for Keith, with a persistent beeping sound interrupting his sleep.

His memory is foggy; he remembers being slowly moved from his car, but after that, all he can recall is cold darkness. He’s slow to open his eyes, wincing at the light with each drop and rise of heavy lids. “Keith?” The voice is so soft, so cautious. Keith lets his gaze drift slowly to the left to see Lance in a chair beside his bed.

His gaze drops to the bandaged hand. “Your hand-” “My wrist is broken, but it’s okay.” Lance finishes, tugging weakly at the blanket draped around his shoulders with his free hand. He fiddles with the corner of the blanket as his gaze plummets to the floor. “Listen, Keith. I’m so sorry. I hit a patch of black ice and just lost control, and now you’re here with a concussion, and it’s my fault. I just– I’m sorry.” Concussion.

That, Keith thinks, would explain why his head is throbbing. That would also explain why he can’t remember much of anything. A deep sigh deflates his chest as he weakly reaches one hand to Lance’s knee. “It’s not your fault.” His words come out slow, and his voice holds a deep croak, but otherwise, his sentence is clear.

“It is-” “It’s. Not.” Lance’s shoulders slump, and he lets his hand fall to his lap. “I should have been more careful.” “It could have happened to anyone,” Keith argues.

He doesn’t know Lance too well, but the brunet’s guilt is filling the room as a suffocating pressure. “Lance, really, it’s not your fault.” Lance wordlessly gets to his feet in reply. He cradles his injured wrist to his chest as he starts toward the door. “I’m going to tell a nurse that you’re awake.” He pulls the door open, only to freeze when he hears the weak call of his name. Slowly, he moves his gaze to look at Keith, who is propped up on one elbow. “You’ll come back, yeah?” For the first time since Keith woke up, he can see a glimmer of light flash across Lance’s deep blue eyes, and the brunet nods, almost eagerly, before slipping out of the room.

We’ve somewhat come to the consensus that Viktor is probably the bad driver in the relationship, and Yuuri is the careful one. I would posit that Yuuri isn’t necessarily the most careful driver, but compared to Viktor he looks like the Poster Child for Defensive Driving. HOWEVER, can I also suggest that where Viktor is the one who yells things like you concussed fucking antelope out of his window at drivers who cut him off, Yuuri is much more deadpan–and much more acerbic. “Viktor,” says Yuuri, completely calm but clearly out-of-his-mind annoyed with the woman going twenty-five kilometers under the speed limit in front of them, “Can you roll down your window and ask the woman in front of us if she remembers the extinction of the dinosaurs, or if she was still in hybernation at that point?” and Viktor laughs so hard that he almost chokes.

“No, please, tell me more about your micropenis,” says Yuuri, as a driver in a very large four-door pickup with a license plate reading something like “SCKMYTRK” roars past him going seventy in a forty. Viktor’s coffee dribbles down his chin as he tries not to inhale it. “How does it feel to know you’ve never sexually satisfied another person?” Yuuri mutters under his breath, as an SUV tailgates him on the expressway. Viktor’s mouth drops open in awe. “I love you,” Viktor whispers, reverently. Yuuri flashes him a smile and then, as the SUV passes him, drops into one of those patented Katsuki-Death-Glares.

Download Free Outkast Aquemini Rar File. It’s beautiful in the same way that erupting volcanoes are. Viktor has never loved him more. Warnings: being really really cold pairings: steve harrington x reader summary: per your mother’s wishes, Jonathan was supposed to drive you home from school. Without your mother’s knowledge, he’s been forgetting to do so pretty often lately. Today, instead of walking home, you decided freezing to death is easier.

Steve Harrington decides otherwise. Word count: 1132 a/n: I originally ended to make this a multiple part thing but then I got a better series idea and just yasss. Also this is the first stranger things fit I’ve ever done so please please please go easy on me You stood with your arms wrapped around yourself in a desperate attempt for warmth, watching as your breath clouded in the cold. Your ride was late. Actually, correction; your ride had forgotten they even were your ride. Frankly, you couldn’t blame him for it. You and Jonathan weren’t exactly friends to begin with.

It wasn’t that you hated each other it was just acquaintances suited the two of you best. If it wasn’t for your mother always trying to push you two together, you questioned the fact that you two would even talk to each other at all. Not to mention, you wouldn’t have been in this mess right now, either.

Regardless of how many times you objected this to your mother and insisted that he’d rather be with someone like Nancy, her and Ms. Byers both insisted that Jonathan driving you to school in the winter was simply the best decision, even though you had your own car. Byers called it being “safe,” while you mother hoped it would “spark something.” Yet here you were, resorting to sitting on the sidewalk of the Hawkins High School parking lot defeatedly. To say that you were only a little upset over your current situation was an understatement.

Maybe it was the cold, or the fact that this was the third time this has happened this week, but you were on the verge of tears. Instead of doing what you did the last two times and walking home, you figured if you sat here longer enough either one of two things would happen.

A.) You’d freeze to death, or B.) Someone would realize you were gone and come get you. But before another numbing thought could slip into your mind, a car pulled up near where you were sat as the driver slowly rolled the window down.

•To Build A Home• Chapter 1 ********** He’s pissed off. He’s bleeding from the huge gash on his forehead, his bike is in pieces of scrap metal on the side of River road and he’s fairly certain he’s missed his date with Tiffany Taylor? No, it was definitely Tiffany. So yeah, he’s pissed. Jughead Jones tucks his scratched up hands deep into the pocket of his leather jacket and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it against the wind, he inhales the familiar taste of tobacco and burnt paper and his shoulders finally slump in exhaustion. This day sucks. It officially sucks, it’s sucked from the minute he set foot on the construction site to the time he walked into his second home, The Snake Sack Bar, he was tired, he was cranky and fuck if he wasn’t starving. Ht C350 Firmware Vs Software on this page.

The blare of a truck horn shakes him out of his pity party, his redheaded best friend sticks his head out of the drivers seat window and grins “Archie Andrews to the rescue! I’m here to save the damsel in distress.” He pulls to a stop beside Jughead as the dark haired man looks less than amused. Archie’s eyes turn serious as he looks his friend over “Seriously man, are you okay?” Jughead shakes off his concern, he never quite got used to anyone caring about his wellbeing “I’m fine, it’s my bike you should be worrying about. Look at her, she’s in pieces.” His hands are flailing frantically and Archie snorts “Pieces doesn’t cover it. I don’t think even your uncle Harley can fix this buddy.” The all American boy drops a hand to Jugheads shoulder and begins to help him pick up all the pieces, throwing them into the back of his pickup. “Mind telling me how this happened.” Archie treads carefully.

A low growl escapes Jugheads mouth, “Jason Blossom and his goonies ran me off the road, probably has something to do with Jason taking over his dads construction company, probably doesn’t like that I’m working for Andrews Construction, or maybe they have something against the Serpents.” Jughead shifts in his jacket, the emblem displayed proudly on the back. Archie snorts bitterly, a dangerous look flashing in his eyes “Were 25 now, I figured the days of high school competition were behind us, he’ll never get over the fact that I stole quarterback away from him.” Jughead shuddered at the mention of high school, that had not been a good time in his life and he very rarely revisits that place in his brain. He’s so much different now, ladies love him, he takes a new girl home every night. Gone is the gangly adolescent boy who hid behind bleachers, replaced by a filled out, muscular bad boy that drives all the girls who ignored him in high school mad.

Damnit he could be showing that cheerleader Tiffany Taylor, shit what was her name? Whatever, he could be showing her the time of her life.

“I know a mechanic a town over, works real good with bikes. The shops open, I can take you there now.” This is why Archie Andrews is his best friend, no matter what, they are always there for each other, it’s the way it’s been since they were four years old. Jugheads pressing some fancy satin scarf against the gash on his forehead as Archie mumbles something about Infection.

They pull up to Pops Mechanic Shop and Jughead hops from the truck, he’s a bit woozier than he expected, his knees wobbly. Archie shoots him yet again, another concerned glance. “I’m good dude, now where’s this mechanic you mentioned, I wanna talk to him about.” He’s cut off abruptly by a distinctly feminine voice “Archie Andrews, you better not have blown out your breaks again! I just fixed this truck last week.” Jughead turns quickly to the voice behind him and nearly passes out. (It’s most definitely because of lack of blood, not the sexy creature before him.) Standing In front of him is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, long tan legs are wrapped up in short denim overalls, a dirty, red rag is hanging from one of her pockets, her feet are tucked into heavy work boots.

Jughead lets his eyes trail over her body all the way up to her toned,bronze arms, she’s covered in motor oil and dirt but it only makes that much sexier. Her silky blonde hair is tied up in a messy bun, strands sticking to her sweaty forehead, her eyes are the color of freshly cut grass and her lips are so perfect it should be illegal. “Nope not me this time Betty, check the back of the truck.” As soon as she moves to the back her eyes widen “Woah, holy poor baby, what happened here?” For the first time since the conversation started Betty’s eyes are on his, ocean blue meeting meadow green, they linger on his before flickering to the steadily bleeding cut on his forehead “It’s my bike.

Well it was my bike. Got into an accident.” He answers dumbly, she can obviously see that he was in accident.

“That needs stitches.” She speaks so suddenly it takes Jughead by surprise “What?” “The cut on your head, it needs stitches, you ripped it clean open. I can fix your bike, gonna take a while but I can get her running.” Jugheads mind races to catch up with her “You can?” “Sure, shouldn’t be too hard. I’ve got some paperwork for you to fill out in the office, Arch I made cookies, there might still be some in the garage if the guys haven’t snatched them all up.” A flash of red races to the garage, leaving Jughead to follow Betty. The office is run down but usable, “Do you have insurance?” Betty asks, her head buried in a filing cabinet, Jughead snorts causing her to look up a hesitant smile on her face. ** REQUESTED ** ⚤ - CONTAINS SMUT Your heart was pounding so hard in your chest you thought it might burst through your shirt as you stood at the door of the DT warehouse waiting for Ethan to come out.

You hadn’t talked to him since the night prior when he had called you practically shouting in your ear, demanding an explanation. You should’ve closed your MacBook before you left the warehouse. You had left it open and sure enough your text messages, which were linked to your computer and your phone, popped up on the screen. Ethan hadn’t wanted to pry into your life, he had never been the kind of boyfriend to snoop, but he couldn’t resist.

He knew the name all too well. His eyes scanned over the messages then he shut your computer with gritted teeth. Before he could think of anything else, he was dialling your number almost immediately. Summary: “DESPERATE NEED: BASSIST.

NO SHIT TASTE IN MUSIC. PLUS: BE HOT.” That was all the flyer had said along with a location. Eddie would usually never go to some random club to try out for a band full of people he didn’t know, but his therapist DID tell him to take some more risks. Read Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3 Pairings: Reddie, slight Mike/Stan/Bill, slight Benverly Warnings: internalized homophobia is amazing and wonderful and I don’t know what I would do without them (post terrible unedited work that’s what) Extra: Thank you so much for waiting guys, I’m sorry that this has taken me so long, but I’ve finally worked through my writers block a bit and hopefully it’ll stay away. Eddie had woken up hours ago but he couldn’t find it in himself to move; not with Richie’s face inches apart from his, an arm lazily draped over his body.

He watched Richie’s chest rise and fall slowly with each breath before his gaze drifted to Richie’s cheeks. Eddie felt like he was close enough to count every freckle that dusted his skin. Watching Richie made his chest tighten and he wasn’t sure why. Eddie finally decided that staring at the sleeping man for any longer would be far too creepy, so he carefully wiggled out from under Richie’s arm and stood, hissing softly as his bare feet came in contact with the freezing hardwood floor. Once he made it downstairs and to the kitchen he was greeted by Beverly and Ben who were already making breakfast. “Get in the car love,” you couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

Harry was in an outfit you knew he must’ve gotten from a costume shop. “Why are you looking at me like tha?” You had to cover your mouth with your hand to try to hide your laughter. You knew he had just gotten done filming with James but you didn’t expect to be picked up for lunch by Harry wearing a mesh tank top and a leather vest. “Aren’t you cold?” You knew he would roll his eyes but you couldn’t help but laugh as you climbed into the passenger seat of his car. “I mean with all those holes?

Are you sure you’re even properly dressed for lunch lovey?” This just rolled his eyes again as he shook his head before watching you buckle up before putting the car in drive. “I feel a bit overdressed actually.” You couldn’t help but full on laugh at him, he just smiled that signature Harry smile that let you see all his teeth and his dimple. “But wait, this will make it a bit more casual.” You watched him pull his sunglasses off the neck of his tank top and slide them on, he looked over at you and gestured to his now complete look and you couldn’t help but laugh even more as you shook your head.

“Harry you look like you’re about to either go perform with Magic Mike or sing the YMCA!” You choked out in between fits of laughter. Harry just let out a dramatic sigh as you tired to contain your laughter. He looked over at you when you finally managed to get your laughter under control and you just shot him a smile. “I’m getting the sense ya don’t like my outfit love.” His tone seemed serious but you knew him better, you knew that under those dark shades his eyes were glowing a lighter shade of green and you could tell by the way he was bitting the corner of his lip that he was fighting to hold himself together.

“I’m really offended, I picked this out knowing you like to get an eyeful of my chest and this is the reaction I get? A fit a laughter and giggles!” By the end of his little rant he has lost his composure and was now just smiling like an idiot and you couldn’t help but once again be caught it a fit of giggles. “Oh I love to get an eye full of the chest Harry but you might as well just take the damn tank top off and wear the vest alone!” He put the car in park in front of the restaurant before looking down at his outfit and then he looked out his drivers side window before looking back at you. You unbuckled yourself so you could lean over the center consul and take the collar of his leather vest in between your fingers feeling how soft it was.

“I mean this is really soft I’m sure it would feel good on your skin.” Your voice was low but you knew he heard you when you heard him take in a deep breath and exhale through his nose. “Now love,” his hand was grabbing at your hand that held his vest in it, giving it a good squeeze before bringing it to his lips for a quick peck. “That wouldn’t be proper attire for lunch.” He added and you just rolled your eyes at him as you took your hand out of his. You grabbed your purse before climbing out of the car and you smiled at the valet man who took Harry’s keys, you reached and interlocked your fingers with Harry’s as the two of you walked into the restaurant. You felt Harry’s grip on your hand tighten as he pulled you closer to him so he could place a sweet kiss to the top of your head as the two of you waited to be seated. “Maybe you can wear my vest when we get home love.” Was all he whispered to you before dropping your hand and shooting you a wink as he slid his glasses up and into his hair. You knew your cheeks were turning red by the heat that rushed to your face.

He always loved getting you riled up in public, and here you were the one red faced while Harry walked around in a ridiculous outfit in a crowded resultant. “It’ll look better on you.” He added as he took the seat across from you, he gave you this smug look because he knew what he was doing to you.

He could tell by the flush of your cheeks what you were thinking about and that just made him smirk even more. “Cheeky today are we Styles? Is all this leather and mesh getting to you?” You teased and he just rolled his eyes and reached for your hand that was sitting on top of the table. “You gonna add this to the normal rotation?” You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of him wearing this outside a second time. Harry just huffed as he dropped your hand and crossed his arms over him chest. “Don’t poke fun at me, I happen to like how breezy it is” His tone was playful and you knew he wasn’t upset with you, he knew this outfit choice wouldn’t ever be considered for a second wear. You looked at him and gave him a smile as you leaned over the table and placed your left hand on his cheek.

“Maybe I will wear the vest then,” you whispered as you brushed your thumb up and down his soft cheek causing him to lean into your touch. “But just the vest.” You added before you suddenly dropped your hand from his face causing him to stumble a bit from the abrupt loss of contact. He looked at you with slightly wide eyes and you couldn’t help but smirk as he was now the one with flushed cheeks.

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