#forget the getting thrown out of a window running joke the real gag is how often Leo’s get separated from their brothers

[turtleblogatlast]

Leo is just destined to be separated from his family, huh?

[prurientpuddlejumper]

A Punchable Face That I Want to Kiss, Ch. 6 [18+/NSFW]

<- Chapter 5 | Chapter 7 ->

Summary: Morning cuddles, smut, and kissing an insecure bastard man on his cute spooky face

2,373 words

The first thing you were aware of was a cold prickling of pins and needles rushing down your right arm like ice water. That made you stir. The next thing you remembered was that you were thirsty.

You flopped over to find that your glass of water on the nightstand was not on the nightstand you expected to see (your home one within arm’s reach), and was in fact, a million miles away, making it, to your just-woken-up brain, completely inaccessible. A buzz of excitement trembled your stomach like you had swallowed an electric outlet, and that outlet was filled with heart emojis.

Rubbing and flexing the pinpricks out of your arm first, you rolled back over, and there he was: Frederick Chilton lying next to you.

The faint upbeat trills and chirps of birdsong outside the bedroom window were the perfect accompaniment to the content you felt, an ode to winter melting into spring. You had missed this—you had missed him.

In the morning, he wasn’t the Dr. Frederick Chilton who was carefully put together for the rest of the world: his hair was a mess with soft tufts of brown sticking up in every which direction; his cheek was mushed into the pillow making him look a bit like a chipmunk, and there would be little red crease lines stamped into his skin from the pillowcase when he finally got up; unkempt stubble grew long in areas he would trim tidily; and he snored. He was yours, and only yours this way.

His scars were currently hidden from view, pressed into the pillow or draped with a sheet (except for his left eyelid which didn’t close properly, leaving a crescent of blue-white eye visible), but you still basked in the joy that he trusted you with his secret—that this twitchy man allowed you to see him vulnerable.

Dappled light streamed into the bedroom through a gap in the curtains. It was spacious, clean, and white, like most rooms in the palatial building, and still as impersonal as when he moved in, more like real estate staging than a home.

In fact, you were fairly sure he had kept the real estate staging to avoid having to decorate himself. There was a framed family picture in the foyer that you recognized as a stock photo. Everything was tidy and beautiful, but very little was his. Even Dr. Chilton couldn't hide the fact that a human being lived here, however, and a few personal touches bore witness to his guarded personality—a reading room stuffed with books on psychiatry, criminology, and books he had written (tucked away on an inconspicuous bottom shelf you discovered his stash of romance novels and homoerotic art)—but in the bedroom the only signs of his presence were the closet full of suits and gaudy ties, the bathroom full of prescriptions and cosmetics, and an ornate umbrella stand for his cane.

His eyelids twitched, and slowly opened to you staring at him. A soft, sleepy, adoring smile pulled the corner of his mouth up from the pillow, as if he awoke from a pleasant dream to find he was still in one.

Then the haze of sleep cleared and he realized you were staring at him. At his face. His blood went cold. He stopped breathing.

You saw his nostrils flare and knew that panic was overtaking him, and behind his eyes there brewed the question of pushing you away again. Before he could reach that point, you smiled and whispered, “Thanks for letting me stay.” You ducked under his surprisingly muscular arm and buried yourself in his chest, so you weren’t looking at anything he was uneasy about you seeing. His body relaxed. Tucking his chin over your head possessively, he began to rub lazy circles over your back. Your legs intertwined with his until you were a warm tangle of limbs and blankets.

“I have never been with a cuddler,” he murmured. “You’re cuddly. You cuddle.”

You almost didn’t understand what he was saying, you were so lost in the baritone reverberations of his chest against your ear. When it clicked, you almost laughed in confusion. “What?”

“What?” he snapped.

“What do you mean, like… you’ve been with people who didn’t cuddle you? There are people who don’t like to cuddle?”

“Yes,” he said as if this were kindergarten-level stuff.

“Seriously?”

“It is what I said, is it not? Forget I spoke!”

You quickly worked to pacify his easily-bruised ego, massaging your fingers through his soft swathe of chest hair. After a few gentle circles, he calmed down again, reclining his head on the pillow with a lazy yawn.

“Sorry, it’s just bizarre to me,” you said, still nestled on his chest. “How do you live without snuggling?”

He chewed the inside of his lip and gave it thought for the first time. “Poorly,” he concluded.

“Is it weird how much I cuddle?”

“Irrefutably, my dear.”

“Do you like it?”

“Of course.” Proving his point, he wrapped his arms around you harder and kissed the top of your head, down your temple, and across your eyes until finding your lips, then buried himself in the crook of your neck for a long while, just holding you.

As you lay comfortably half awake, you became aware little by little of his cock rubbing against your thigh every time one of you shifted. A dull ache awakened between your legs. You felt him growing harder, and started rocking your hips with more purpose, your breath more erratic.

His hand slipped between your legs under the covers feeling your arousal, and a kaleidoscope of sensation burst to life under your skin, making you drunk with need. You slipped off your underwear and he hastily rid himself of his, his heart beating like a snare drum.

His lips met yours, eager and hot, searching, as he rubbed his cock against your entrance.

He pulled back, remembering something missing.

“One moment. I shall go put my face back on,” he blushed, pushing off from the bed, then joked with a worried grin, “Stay aroused.”

You caught his wrist. “Leave them out. I want your real face.”

Shoulders deflating, he stared back at you stone faced—or what was meant to be stone faced but for the trembling in his lip and an involuntary twitch of first one cheek, then the other. He turned away and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Your heart sank, but then he opened the bedside stand, pulled out the lube, and returned.

It started slow and sweet, an extension of your cuddling with lots of kissing and reassuring caresses. He was uncertain of himself like this, but he trusted you—he wanted to trust you. He wanted to give you whatever it was you desired, and this was what you asked for. You were so strange, to want him without any masks on, even when the truth beneath them was ugly. Part of him was jumpy, waiting for you to gag and tell him to cover his ruined eye. It was going to sting dreadfully when you did, he was so vulnerable. Yet, another part was curious what it would mean if you accepted him completely. The idea of it was dizzying.

He lay on his side facing you, but keeping you pressed too close along the length of his body to easily find his face. Exploring hands roved over you, encouraging you to nuzzle into him more, ghosting breathy kisses over his skin in your warm little cave between the pillow and his neck. Your leg was thrown over his hip, and he began to glide his glistening cock over your entrance, spreading the lube and a growing heat, rocking back and forth until you were twitching.

He made sure you were slick and ready to take him before easing inside slowly, just the head working you open. You adjusted the angle of your torso, pulling your face out from under him to gain better leverage as you rolled your hips slowly against his, feeling the stretch as your body took more of his girth. You ran your fingers up the back of his neck and embedded them in his messy hair, ruffling it more. Nibbling his lower lip, you whispered, “you feel so good,” and felt the shiver run up his spine. He was a slut for praise.

Once you had adjusted to being filled, and the thin thread of pain interwoven with the pleasure faded into a comfortable, tantalizing pressure, you pushed him back onto the mattress and straddled him. Riding his cock, you took him deeper, and deeper, setting a steady, but unhurried pace. You wanted to savor it. His hands cupped the curve of your ass, squeezing as he bucked his hips up into you, hitting a point so deep you gasped his name. “Frederick,” you repeated with more heat, “your cock feels so fucking good.” You wanted him to know how much you worshiped him, but every time you gazed down at his face, your eyelids heavy with lust, his nostrils flared.

“Do not stare.”

You tried to comply. To make him comfortable. You wanted to admire your wounded man, but he was still getting used to you knowing at all, so you closed your eyes for him and focused on the feeling of your bodies joining, and the sounds of his exertion. But when his breathing grew ragged and you could imagine the lewd, needy expression he was making, you couldn’t help peeking.

His eyes were locked on your face, so he noticed. Immediately.

“I told you…” He gave an annoyed scowl, “Not to…” flipped you onto your stomach, “look!” and took you again, burying his full length in a single rough thrust.

You moaned loudly at the sudden pressure. “Oh, doctor, I’ve been so bad,” you goaded him on. He growled in your ear at the bait, nipping your neck punitively. Sliding a hand under you to work your aching heat, he pounded you hard from behind, driving you into the mattress. He was losing all control, falling apart, and it drove you wild. The warm ache quickly grew into an urgent burn. Every muscle in your body tightened in anticipation as you arched your back, angling your hips to meet his, searching for sweet release. Your moans grew louder with each merciless thrust stretching and filling you until you came hard with a scream, biting a pillow so the entire neighborhood wouldn’t hear. He fucked you through your climax before snapping his hips against your ass bruisingly hard, and pulling you toward him at the same time to fuck you deeper than you thought possible. Hot semen flooded your insides. Load after load kept coming as his pelvic muscles twitched and spasmed against your ass until there was not enough room to contain all of it, the extra dripping out around his cock and pooling on the expensive sheets.

You panted, letting out a breathy, shaking moan of relief. He sank on top of you, and you could feel his body trembling, hear him taking deep breaths through the nose to calm himself.

“God, that was amazing,” you sighed blissfully.

He was silent, and you wondered if everything had been too much for him, too soon. Then he answered, “I am great. I do not know if I would say God, but… very well. I accept the title.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed at the worst joke ever, rolling yourself out from under him.

“Yes?” he responded with mock impatience, propping himself on his elbow. “It is I, what prayers do you need answered?”

You groaned loudly and smooshed his big dumb face in your hands. You had never pegged him as the type for dad jokes, and actually… you loved it.

Suddenly you wondered what he’d be like as a father. Images of kids running his mansion’s hallways, scrawling crayon drawings all over the pristine white walls, and him saying, “Hi, hungry, I’m dad!” flashed through your mind. Fuck. If you had kids, you’d have to move into a normal home and pretend not to be rich so they wouldn’t grow up to be snobs like their father…

...And you were getting way ahead of yourself.

“What is it?” He asked softly but with a tinge of color at his cheeks from being stared at so dreamily as you seemed to drift off into your own world. Nobody had ever looked at him like that.

“Nothing,” you said. “I love you.”

He kissed you on the forehead warmly, and you could feel his lips smiling against you. He wasn’t sure if he would ever get used to hearing those beautiful, heady words. They set him reeling every time. You were so odd, so impossible to explain within his worldview, the way you loved him. Perfection, status, money, appearances—all of the currency that ruled his life you shrugged off like it was nothing, and then you saw his grotesque disfigurement and you loved him.

Drawing back, his mouth tightened into a skeptical line, and he studied your face clinically. “Dysmorphophilia,” he said.

“What?” you blinked.

“A paraphilia. Sexual arousal derived from a physically deformed partner.” He began his dry explanation in a doctor-like monotone, but then a slyness crept into his voice and he shook his head with a tsk-tsk. “I always knew you were... peculiar.”

“Do you have to diagnose my feelings for you?”

“Of course not. Normally I would charge for my services. This, you may consider a favor.”

“You are the worst.”

He gave a short, satisfied hum. The corner of his mouth twitched up, and one sassy shoulder shrugged. “You love me,” he boasted.

With an annoyed groan, you pulled him on top of you so his lips were inches from yours, and his green eyes watched you with trepidation (rather, one watched, and the ghostly eye followed the green’s lead). Your heart hammered in your chest, even though you were still sticky with sex and there should have been nothing left to be shy or flustered about. “I do, you know. I really do.”

[hazzoranstories]

THE WHITE SUN AT MIDNIGHT | J.BLACK  Ch. 5

For the past few days after she had talked to Billy Black, Paige's symptoms of becoming a shape-shifter mellowed down but still left her aching. Her burning temperature went down a couple of dozen degrees, and she no longer heard her bones cracking. She was also much calmer and in more control over her emotions besides the occasional snap.

Despite her loud protests, Paige was forced out of the house by Bella, who wanted to visit Jacob and confront him about ignoring her. She told her step-sister that she just wanted to introduce Jacob to her, but Paige knew she was slightly afraid of what Jacob would say. Paige may have never met him, but the way Bella describes him, he sounds like a real jerk.

So, with the moral support of her sister, Bella headed to the Black house. When the two got there, they got out of Bella's pickup truck that had actually been handed down to her from Billy and made their way to the white front door that stood out around the red siding.

Bella knocked softly, and the door opened to reveal Billy in his wheelchair. "Bella? Paige?" He questioned, and Bella stuffed her hands in her pockets.

"I need to see him," Bella replied, only milliseconds after the man had finished.

Billy sighed, a long pause before he spoke, "he's not in." Bella pursed her lips together into a straight line then walked around Billy's wheelchair.

"Okay, I'm sorry, I really need to see him," she rushed out, and Paige walked behind her as she ran through the house.

"Bella!" Billy called after her, and she burst through a door in the back of the house. The girl stopped once she saw Jacob passed out on his small mattress with a single blanket thrown over his body. Paige peered over Bella's shoulder to see what the infamous Jacob Black looked like and what she saw made her stop in her track even if she wasn't moving.

He was gorgeous. Absolutely stunning. He had his father's tan skin, his black hair was cut short and messy, probably from sleeping, or maybe it was always like that, Paige couldn't tell. He also wore a dark grey muscle shirt that complemented his blush-colored lips and buff figure.

She was too in awe at the perfect boy that she didn't notice Bella looking out the window to see four boys around Jacob's age advancing towards the house.

Paige was finally snapped out of her trace when Bella nudged her side roughly and told her to follow her outside. Paige had no idea what her sister was doing until they approached the four boys.

"What did you do?" Bella yelled at them. "What did you do to him?"

"Easy!" Sam Uley, the Alpha of the pack, barked.

"He didn't want this," Bella cried, and Paige backed up slightly, getting a bad feeling in her gut.

"What did we do? What did he do? What'd he tell you?" Paul snarled.

"Both of you calm down," Sam cut in.

"Nothing. He tells me nothing because he's scared of you," Bella said, and all the boys snickered. The Swan then lifted her hand and smacked Paul right across the face making Paige's eyebrows raise.

"Too late now," Jared commented.

"Bella, Paige, get back!" Sam warned, and Paige furrowed her eyebrows while she and Bella started backing away slowly. How did Sam know her name?

Paul started growling softly as his chest heaved up and down. "Paul, calm down, now!" Sam cautioned at him. Paul's growling got worse, and his body started thrashing around until he morphed into something Paige had only seen her father do. He shifted into a werewolf!

Bella and Paige, not knowing what to do, gasped and started running away with Paige in front. "Bella!" Jacob screamed and hopped over the back deck. Stumbling over to Bella and Paige, who continued to panic.

"Run! Jake, run!" Bella screeched. Jake then jumped over Bella and Paige and transformed into his wolf form mid-air. Bella tripped over a log, which made her fall to the ground but Paige remained standing as they stared at the werewolf in fear.

Paige couldn't bring herself to forget that she would one day be something like that. Something so terrifying and savage.

Jacob then pounced at Paul's grey wolf, who fought back just as rough. They bit at each other's necks as they rolled into the woods, breaking a wood boat in the process.

"Hey! Take Bella and Paige back to Emily's place," Sam announced to the two remaining boys before running into the woods after Jake and Paul.

"Guess the wolfs out of the bag," Embry joked and offered Bella his hand.

~:*:~

As Bella's red pickup truck pulled up to a rather ragged and natural house, Paige glanced at Bella, who looked uneasy. Embry and Jared hopped out of the car with a loud whoop, and Bella rolled down her window.

"Hey, I think we should go back and see if Jacob's okay," she advised, but the two boys just laughed.

"I hope Paul sinks some teeth in him. Serves him right," Jared said.

"No way. Jacob's a natural. You see him phase on the fly? I got five says Paul doesn't touch him," Embry argued as they started walking in but stopped once they realized the girls weren't behind them. "Come on in, girls. We won't bite," Embry chuckled.

"Speak for yourself," Jared said before walking inside. Paige and Bella hesitated but eventually got out with a sigh. They went towards the door when Embry came up to them.

"Oh, hey, about Emily, Sam's fiancee? Don't stare. It bugs Sam," he said soberly.

"Why would I stare?" Paige asked Bella because Embry had run inside. Bella shrugged, and the two sisters walked inside the house.

"Are you guys hungry? Like I have to ask," Emily laughed at her own words, and the two other girls walked in awkwardly. Bella gulping, and Paige playing with her fingers. There they saw a woman setting out some huge muffins, and when she turned towards them, they held in gasps.

She had a huge gash on her right cheek, partly covered by her black bangs and long feathery hair, but it was definitely noticeable since it took up almost half of her face.

"Who's this?" Emily asked with a small smile.

"Bella Swan and Paige Claymore. Who else?" Jared mocked, and Emily hummed.

"So, you're the vampire girl," Emily gestured to Bella. "And you're the soon to be member of the pack," she gestured to Paige. Both girls froze. A complete stranger had just revealed their biggest secrets to one another. But they tried to act normal like they had told each other these things.

"So, you're the wolf girl," Bella defused the tension.

Emily giggled, "guess so. Well, I'm engaged to one." She set the tray of muffins down, and Embry and Jared were about to take seconds when Emily grabbed their wrists. "Save some for your brothers. And ladies first. Muffin?"

Paige and Bella hesitated but nodded, either way, not wanting to be rude. "Sure. Thanks," Bella whispered.

"Leave it to Jacob to find a way around Sam's gag order," Emily muttered as the sisters took a muffin each.

"He didn't say anything to me," Bella said quickly.

"That's a wolf thing. Alpha's orders get obeyed whether we want them to or not. And check it out. We can hear each other's thoughts," Embry exclaimed and looked at Paige, "something you probably won't enjoy so much." He smirked at her, and Emily shoved him.

"Would you shut up? These are trade secrets. Damn it! This chick runs with vampires," Jared snapped and pointed to Bella with his muffin.

"You can't really run with vampires," Bella giggled, which Emily soon joined in on. "'Cause they're fast."

"Yeah? Well, we're faster. Freaked out yet?" Jared hissed.

"You're not the first monsters I've met," Bella said.

"Jake's right. You're good with weird," Sam interrupted as he walked into the house. Paige and Bella tensed up at another shape-shifter entering the room. Two was enough, let alone the Alpha.

"Hey," Sam greeted Emily and started pepper kissing her face as she started laughing again. Bella looked at them with great jealousy in her eyes, but it was cut short by two boys walking in as they playfully pushed each other.

In came Jacob and Paul, both laughing as Paul made his way over to Embry and Jared, sitting next to them. He looked up at both the girls who had their teeth gritted together and smiled mischievously. "Sorry," he said before turning back towards the others. Bella looked at Jake, and he nodded his head to outside, telling her that they needed to talk.

Bella nodded before looking at Paige and squeezing her hand. She followed Jacob outside, and they took a walk, Jake explaining everything. Bella also asked about Paige and her relationship to the pack which he answered. Meanwhile, Paige was asking the pack all of her questions. By the end of the day, both girls knew everything they hadn't told each other.

~:*:~

[2idiots]

Keep Yourself Alive

pt. 6 // pt. 7 // pt. 8a

word count: 1,667ish

NCT Frat Social Media AU // College Athlete & Fratboy Lucas x reader

warnings: not really any, kind angsty, more than just mentions of chronic pain

(I don't know how but the second paragraph got deleted when I first uploaded. I have since added it in. So if you see something new that's why)

---

Getting Johnny from outside the building to inside your room was a lot more difficult than you expected. This was partially because your best friend was much drunker than his texts suggested and partially because each step was sending a pain reverberating down your legs and up your abdomen. A pain that you knew the mild over-the-counter pain meds would do little to numb but you had taken them with false hope anyway. Before your best friend had forced you into letting his drunkass in you were curled into your bed with a heating pad pressed into your abdomen, hoping eventually exhaustion would win over excruciating pain.

This was the real reason you bolted out of Jet Lag the minute your friends were off in different directions distracted. The pain had triggered before Mark's open mic night started but you were not about to miss the night you friend had been talking about for weeks. This was so important to him and you had to be there. So you sucked it up and promised yourself to duck out the moment it was clear and Mark had performed. Woo noticing and staying over for a few hours was just a welcomed surprise. And the leftover baked goods he brought were another plus side, not that you had any appetite. At least your blubbering fool of a friend would benefit from the pile of pastries sitting on your desk, if you could make it past the giggling desk attendant.

The first time you walked passed her with bleary eyes, focused on only the task ahead she called out something about the “cute Oppa” at the door. Immediately a gag raced up your throat at that, Johnny? A cute Oppa? Gross. He was like your brother, actually more like your overprotective mother. Sure you joked about Johnny being a daddy, but it was all shits and giggles to make him mad with Mark. He wasn't actually one.  The second time she made some sort of pass at him that you blocked out and stifled another gag. You didn’t need to see or hear that child making passes at your best friend.

That wasn’t the only thing she was giggling at though. You and Johnny were quite the sight. He was a stumbling, stuttering fool and you were wearing pajamas that had been picked out in the dark, not even your shoes matched. These were things you had thrown on when Johnny begged you to let him in but your headache was pounding too much to turn the lights on, which was also the reason for the sunglasses. 

Speaking of Big Foot, he was using you almost completely as a support and he weighed a lot more than his bony ass looked. How he managed to make it to your building from 7th Sense was beyond you, he could barely make it three steps without giggling and sliding around. Honestly this made you more than a little nervous for Mark, usually he was the giggly one after a few drinks. If Johnny was this drunk, then Mark could very well be dead.

Overall the hardest obstacle for Johnny to maneuver around was your actual room. He tripped over everything. Maybe it was his long spindly legs combined with the alcohol, but he even fell just trying to walk over your rug. You had to catch him before he face planted. Of course he just contiuned blabbering about the night and how well it went the whole time, even while laughing at his clumsiness. “Then Mark fell! Kinda like how he is falling for sunflower boy but like fell… on the actual ground… like how I just almost fell!” To which you just nodded, handing him a pastry and an ice cold water bottle. “And Jae was so funny, he was talking about the basketball team and one of their parties last week where someone drank beer from a ball that had been cut in half. Isn’t that gross?”

“Yeah babe, real gross,” You nodded, trying to push him toward your bed. You might not have been asleep before he messaged but you were still in bed ready to sleep and you wanted to be back there. “Can you get in bed, Jojo? I'll tired.”

Following your direction like a lost lamb, Johnny swiftly removed all his out layers and climbed into your bed continuing to talk about the basketball team and how pretty and funny they were, all the while giving you very pointed looks. Or at least he was prattling on until he went completely silent and tense before screeching, “THERE’S SOMETHING WARM!”

Arms crossed and irritation pulsed through you at the scream, you leaned over to pull the heating pad out from under him and wiggled it around in your outstretched hand, “Johnny you’ve met HP before, HP meet Big Foot.”

“HP? You named your heating pad?” He questioned already snuggling back into your sheets like he owned the bed. This happened every time he was over, sober or drunk it didn’t matter; Johnny took up every blanket and pillow in your entire bed: partially because his size, mostly because he was an asshole. One of the many reasons you were hesitant to let him stay over anymore, even though you always ended up letting him stay.

“Might as well, he’s in my bed so often,” You grinned before grabbing another water bottle out of the mini fridge in the corner of the room and tossing it his direction. While this wasn’t a common occurrence, drunk Johnny, you did know that he would wake up in three hours whining about a dry mouth and you didn't want to deal with it.

“I mean he wasn’t on Halloween.” Luckily you flipped the lights off before you could see his suggestive eyebrow wiggle. Here was the worst part, talkative drunk Johnny taking an interest in your life and trying to lay down his tips on life. 

Grabbing an extra blanket for yourself you slid in next to him and laughed that thought off, “Actually HP was, ALSO I thought we agreed to not talk about Halloween, leave the past behind us and all.”

“Behind us? Is that how you like it y/n?” He let out a slight whimper when you turned over enough to give him a solid kick to the shin. This alcohol was giving him far more confidence than normal and you didn’t like it. Throwing his hands up, Johnny tossed out a worthless apology and whined, “I deserved that ok. But you know I wouldn’t call it the past, don’t you tutor the dude?”

That elicited a quiet response from you, a simple, “Yeah.”

“Isn’t it like two or three times a week?” He didn’t stop his incessant babbling long enough for you to answer, adding on, “You’re quite popular, my friends keep asking about you too.” Then a switch suddenly flipped in Johnny’s mind, evident by how he practically climbed over you to switch the lamp back on and give you his best mom glare, “Wait, you’re sleeping with HP?” You let out a few weak protests as the light flooded your room and his bony ass arm squished you down into the bed digging into your side. Drunk friends sucked. Too bad you loved them too much to leave them on the street. “So you’re in pain? You’re in pain and you didn’t say anything? You just went home alone and lied to Mark and me?”

“Johnny I always sleep with a heating pad and I’m always in pain. It's not a big deal.” Tonight just happened to be bad, still was, but you left that part out. “Also Jungwoo just left; I wasn’t alone.” That was accompanied by a successful effort to push him off so you could flip the light off again and snuggle into the heating pad again. “Now go to sleep, I'm tired.”

There was a brief moment of silence before you heard sniffling and an occadsional shuffle.

“Are you crying?” You asked incredulously, flipping over to see him hastily wiping away his tears in the ambient light filtering in through the window. Sure enough, your bitch-ass best friend was laying on the other side of the bed using his white undershirt to wipe his tears away. At least he was smart enough not to use your sheets as the tissue. “Stop crying.” This was new. Your friends probably knew way too much about how hard your days were getting, in fact Johnny had driven you to the ER one too many times over the past year and a half, but they had never cried in front of you. At least not about you. 

You hated it.

His immediate response was denial, no he wasn’t crying. These weren’t tears, they were allergies. "Leaks in my face." But you still heard him mutter a muted “I just want you to be happy and not in pain” as the alcohol running through his system finally knocked him out.

You were struck silent, not sure how to respond. Sure he was your closest friend and that meant he had to like you, but this affection made breathing a little hard: your chest not quite expanding like it should. You felt a warm tear roll down your cheek as you turned to face the other side of the room, an effort to get away. This was exactly why you didn't tell them about tonight, you didn't want them burdened with your pain. They should have to suffer just because you were. 

Ignoring the ache in your chest, you blindly reached out for where you set your phone on the bedside table. You still may not be able to sleep but you could get some reading done and maybe forget the sound of Johnny's tears. And maybe, just maybe, the words would lull you into some dreamlike state so you could rest. It was only a few minutes into reading that a text interrupted the chapter. 

summary: College is hard enough, right? Coursework, two jobs, a social life, and the state of your mental health. As if that was enough now the school’s no.1 athlete won’t leave you alone after a one night stand. And maybe you like him back but you have a tendency to run when life gets too difficult especially now that undiagnosed chronic pain just seems to be getting worse with each passing month.

(I've decided updates will be Thursday at 6pm. I hope you enjoy this chapter)

Taglist: @princeofshenzhenuwus

[ethanalter]

Throwback Thors-day: How Eric Allan Kramer became the first live-action Thor

The Incredible Hulk (Lou Ferrigno) meets the Mighty Thor (Eric Allan Kramer) for the first time in live-action form in The Incredible Hulk Returns (Photo: Everett Collection)

As the mightiest members of the super-team uniting Earth’s mightiest heroes, Avengers Thor and the Incredible Hulk have long had a love-hate relationship. As in: they love fighting each other to prove their strength, and hate being the one to lose. Marvel Studios’ latest blockbuster, Thor: Ragnarok, gives the Asgardian warrior (Chris Hemsworth) and the mean, green smashing machine (Mark Ruffalo) by way of performance capture) one more chance to punch each other into oblivion with a centerpiece sequence set in an alien gladiatorial arena. We won’t spoil who wins, but suffice it to say it’s not an entirely clean victory, which means only one thing: Rematch!

Two decades before this current clash of champions, Hulk and Thor tangled on television in the 1988 TV movie, The Incredible Hulk Returns, the first of three sequels to the popular series starring Bill Bixby and Lou Ferrigno as scientist David Banner and his growling alter ego, respectively. Picking up two years after the events of the show, the plot brings Banner into contact with former student Donald Blake (Steve Levitt) who regales him with a whopper of a story: while on a fact-finding mission to Norway, the diminutive Blake came across an ancient hammer that awakened the Norse legend, the Mighty Thor, played by Eric Allan Kramer in his first big role. And Thor is none too happy about being stranded on Earth with only a nerdy researcher for company. In their first encounter, the Thunder God’s fury rouses the Hulk-ish side of Banner’s personality, leading to an epic wrestling match.

Thor vs. Hulk in Thor: Ragnarok (Photo: Marvel Studios)

In classic Marvel fashion, this fight eventually turns into a team-up, with Hulk and Thor uniting their powers to take down a crime syndicate. And as Kramer reveals to Yahoo Entertainment, that inaugural adventure was supposed to lead to more derring-do for Thor. “The Incredible Hulk Returns was really a backdoor pilot for a Thor series,” the now-55-year-old actor says, adding that it would have been more of an Odd Couple scenario than The Incredible Hulk, with his Thor and Levitt’s Blake working together to outsmart and outfight criminals. But those plans were scuttled in the wake of the famously lengthy 1988 Writers Guild of America strike that took a heavy toll on existing shows, as well as those still in the works. “Any chances for a series were shattered [by the strike],” Kramer remembers. “Obviously, you’re disappointed when it doesn’t go, but you come to learn fairly quickly that’s the business.”

It didn’t take Kramer long to find gainful employment outside of Marvel anyway. A working character actor for three decades now, he’s since graced such TV shows as Down Home, Good Luck Charlie and AMC’s upcoming series, Lodge 49, as well as feature films like Robin Hood: Men in Tights and American Wedding. (Contrary to IMDb rumors, though, he’s never made a return visit to Asgard. For a while, his filmography included a cameo in 2011’s Thor that Kramer confirms never happened. “I think the only people that didn’t realize I could have had a cameo in that movie were my agents,” he jokes.) This Thor-sday, we reminisced with Kramer about being the first live-action Thor (not counting Vincent D’Onofrio) and facing off against the muscled mountain that was Lou Ferrigno.

Yahoo Entertainment: How did the role of Thor come your way? Eric Allan Kramer: It was literally one of the first things I auditioned for when I first came to Los Angeles. I think it was as much as a surprise to my agent as it was to me when it all came around. I was completely green to the whole process of auditioning and castings so it was a great learning experience, on top of being very exciting. I was big into comic books growing up, and I was a huge Spider-Man fan. So I was well versed in that whole universe.

Since you were familiar with Thor from the comics, you clearly knew that the version of the character we see in The Incredible Hulk Returns looks substantially different. How did you feel about that as a comic book fan? I liked the idea of making the character a little more gritty, and a little more where he would actually be from. I also liked that the armor was pretty much real; there wasn’t anything plastic about it. Unfortunately for my stunt double, it led to a few stitches; he kept catching his chin on the chest plate. The helmet was also as heavy as anything. The big joke was that it kept sliding down the front of my head. In the running scenes, I was always fighting to keep that helmet up.

Was it heavier than the hammer you had to carry? I would say they were pretty close! The whole outfit was metal and leather; it was a serious costume.

Did you miss having a cape? I think a cape would have only added to my somewhat uncoordinated tendencies. As it was it, it was hard enough to move around in that thing; adding a cape would have been one obstacle too many.

Is that your real hair we see on camera or did you have a wig? My hair was actually fairly long at that time, and I was blond, but it was just too thin, so that was all wigs. And the wig actually made me realize that my hairline was receding! I went in to get it made, and the hairstylist made this skull cap as the base for the wig. A couple of producers were there, and she asked them, “Where do you want his hairline? Where it is now or where it used to be?” Then she said to me, “Would you like to see where your hairline used to be?” She took a red marker, had me scrunch my head up, and drew a line that I swear was about an inch below where my hairline was! You live with yourself every day, but that was the first real sign that things were changing on top of my head.

Kramer in a 2015 episode of Good Luck Charlie (Photo: Ron Tom/Disney Channel/Courtesy: Everett Collection)

Speaking to the gritty depiction of the character, your Thor doesn’t talk in the kind of flowerly Asgardian language present in the comics. I think that Nick [Corea, the screenwriter] wrote a character that loved life, and wanted to taste everything life had to offer after being locked away for so long. That was pretty much where the character was coming from. The idea was to make him accessible and trying to find that line of being from somewhere very magical and landing in the real world.

Unlike Bill Bixby and Lou Ferrigno, who were rarely in the same frame together, you frequently interacted with Thor’s alter ego, Donald Blake, played by Steve Levitt. What discussions did you have about dramatizing that relationship? They’re weirdly connected in the fact that they’re tied at the hip. Each character got to share something from the other character, and learn and grow and do all of that. Because everything came together so quickly, a lot of the play between Steve and I happened on set. We would certainly get together to talk things out and toss ideas back and forth. In fact, I remember when I tested with him; I’d already been cast and they were casting his role. Steve came in and went off-script, just throwing things at me that I threw back at him. It just worked.

Who did you film your first scenes with: the Hulk or David Banner? The first stuff we shot was in the lab, so it was pretty much everyone — Bill Bixby, Lou Ferrigno, and the whole crew. They were both great; Bill was exactly who you thought and wanted him to be — just one of the nicest, gracious, most giving people I’ve ever met on set. Lou was terrific. I believe he said that he was the biggest he’d ever been when he came back for that movie. He was just a mountain!

Did you feel any pressure to be as big as Ferrigno? I was in shape, but not certainly in shape by today’s standards, you know what I mean? This was 1988, and the superhero build had not come in yet. The minute you get a role like this where you know your shirt is going to be off, the first thing you do is get in the gym and try to cram years of body neglect into a couple of weeks, hitting it hard every day. One day, we were doing publicity stills for the movie and Lou walks in, looking phenomenal. He caught me drinking a Gatorade and gave me crap for it, because of all the salt that’s in it. So we’re standing together, and I was feeling okay about how I looked. Then Lou goes, “So… do you work out?” [Laughs] Like I had done nothing! I laughed and said, “I’m trying, Lou. I’m trying.”

Let’s talk about the Thor vs. Hulk fight scene. How was that choreographed? And did Ferrigno break character between takes or did he only grunt at you throughout shooting? [Laughs] He was on and off. Every once in awhile, he’d crack a joke about something. Those were some long days in armor being thrown around the set. Back in the days before CGI was common, we’d use the trick of blurring in and out of scenes. But we were going at it like a regular stage fight; it was all the real deal. The guy doubling Lou had to jump off the building. I forget how many stories up he was, but he had a huge fall down to the mat. The guy doubling me was hanging from helicopters and being thrown through windows and all the rest of it. He took some punishment. I was there for all the big moves, but I was taken out of the stuff that would have halted production if I had gotten hurt.

Did you also chug that whole glass of beer on camera when Thor and Donald go to the biker bar? I remember I drank a lot! I didn’t drink the whole thing, but I drank most of it. It was all near-beer, like O’Doul’s, which I’ve actually sort of grown to love over the years. That whole scene was just a blast to shoot. In fact, I used it on my demo reel for a good couple of years afterwards.

The other great beer-related gag is Thor stabbing cans of beer with a kitchen knife. Yeah, I think that sent waves of panic through most of the crew, who were thinking I was going to cut my fingers off. Me, too, actually. It wasn’t until you actually did it that you realize, “This was a really good idea in my head, but it that could have gone seriously wrong.” One slip, and it’s a whole different scene. We only did it the one time, because it just freaked everybody out.

Do you like to tell people that you were the first live-action Thor? I don’t know if I like to make it known, but I’m definitely proud of it. It was my first big thing, and it’s something that a lot of people really enjoyed. I’m glad I have a very small slice of the Marvel universe that I can call my own. It’s funny how often I still get recognized for that. I think it all depends on when it reruns. And, of course, when the movies start coming around, suddenly people get a little nostalgic and they go back and take a look.

Are you a fan of Chris Hemsworth’s take on the character? Oh my God, yes! He’s fantastic. He’s got the look, the sound and he’s funny. I see all of the Marvel movies, and I’m blown away by what movies can do now. It would have been nice to maybe get some CGI abs back in the day! [Laughs]

Thor: Ragnarok features another epic Hulk vs. Thor smackdown. Why do viewers like watching these two heroes fight? And did you advocate for your Thor to win a round? They’re perfect combatants. One is so completely primal, and the other is so mythological. But I was just a guest in his house, man. You want to pummel me, I’m fine with that!

Had the Hulk appeared on the Thor series, though, you would have won that fight. Yeah, if he’s on my turf, then maybe I get to win that one. [Laughs]

The Incredible Hulk Returns is available to rent or purchase on Amazon, Google Play, iTunes and Vudu. Thor: Ragnarok opens in theaters Friday.

Watch: Director Taika Waititi talks gratuitous shirtless Chris Hemsworth in ‘Thor: Ragnarok’:

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