#bald Trent needs his me time

[punkjinshi]

Welp… Now that Trent and Chuck are broken up I can invest in my Trent x Shida propaganda with zero guilt

[tch8mnis]

hi everyone!!! my name is serenity and i write football fan fics 🫶🏽🫶🏽

some facts about me:

• i am a BLACK writer ✍🏽

• real madrid supporter

• jude bellingham is my favorite player (obv)

• support england's national team (sometimes)

• my face claims will most if not all the time be а РОС

• i've been on tumblr for about 3-4 years

• Ive started writing about 2 years ago

• i have a dog (not very important but i love him sm)

if anyone has any more questions feel free to send them thru !

i made this page bc i want to start taking request from people, i've been wanting to for a longgg time but i just never got the chance buttt NOW we are here and if u have a request please send them in!!

i take requests for anyone (except for the terrible ones like gr**nwood, h@kimi, z!nchenko, part3y, m3ndy etc etc)

more specifically i'd love request for

• jude bellingham

• jamal musiala

• alejandro balde

• aurelien tchouameni

• kylian mbappe

• trent alexander arnold

• marcus rashford

those are just players that id love to write for but again ill write for anyone <3

also i'm coming from wattpad so i plan to post my jude fic on here that i never finished and just finish it on here so i get a new audience

but yea that's it i think now i need to fix up my account and try to make mutuals everything but thank u all for reading, hope ill see yall again soon 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

[strangemaleswaps]

Strange Cop Dad Swap

I made my way to the kitchen, expecting some good alcohol since Brittney was rich. Holy shit! There was a huge variety of everything! Now THIS is what I expected at a college party! Who fucking cared if I wasn't even in college yet, or old enough to drink? This shit is crazy!

"What would you like my good sir?" asked some random guy at the table. I didn't think he was an actual bartender, since he was wearing normal clothes. Probably just some weirdo.

"Oh I dunn-" I didn't even finish my sentence when he put something into a shaker and poured it into a red plastic cup. He then handed it to me. Well, I guess if I'm at a college party, I gotta act like a college party guy. I chugged it all down in a second. Suddenly my throat burned like hell.

"Fuck man, one step at a time! Save the chugging for cheap beer. These drinks are classier." He poured me another. "This time baby steps my man."

I was kinda mad, but accepted the drink anyway. I walked back into the living room where people were on the dance floor. I saw my buddy Trent dancing with yet another random girl he just met. I swear that dude solely exists to break hearts.

"Hey! Garrett! Did you get the drinks?

"I got one. If you want one, go get it yourself."

"Ah fuck you! But seriously though aren't you scared your dad's gonna show up? I mean he IS a cop around here."

"Probably not. I'm sure there's lots of parties going on right now. What are the chances that he'd come to this one?” I noticed someone started talking to Brittney. It must've been bad because she widened her eyes and turned the music off. With the new silence in the room, we could hear the blaring police sirens outside.

"Shit who called the cops?" Someone said. The door opened and none other than my stupid dad appeared. His ugly bald head reflected the multicolored lights and he looked around at everyone, while I tried to hide myself behind the crowd. Beside him was the sheriff, Marty. My dad may have been good friends with Marty but he didn’t have to bring the fucking sheriff for something as simple as this.

"Allright allright, party's over. Nobody's getting arrested as long as you cooperate." Everyone started walking out the door and I was exposed. My dad widened his eyes when he noticed me.

"Garrett?! What the fuck are you doing? You know better than that!" He just HAD to start the lecture NOW out of all times, embarrassing me in front of everyone.

"What? I can't come to a party now?"

"Don't try excuses on me! I saw that cup in your hand. What? You expect me to believe that's water? Get in the car. Everybody else move it!” We both started walking outside while Marty stayed to lead the others.

Inside the police car, we were silent for a while until he blew up on me once again.

"I can't believe you were fucking underage drinking! Do you have any idea how irresponsible you are?! You're in your senior year of high school. Do you really think that’s going to be a good habit when you go to college?! You're grounded until graduation. I don't care how harsh that sounds. Graduation you hear?” I knew that nothing I said would change anything so I kept my mouth shut the rest of the car ride. 

Back at home, we said nothing to each other as I walked up to my room and slammed the door. About an hour went by and I heard a knock, followed by my dad coming in.

"Hey."

"Go away."

"I just wanted to say that I overreacted a bit back there. It made me so angry seeing the type of person you might’ve ended up as." He was fumbling with his wedding ring. I don't know why he keeps it on anyway. I never knew my mom, and it's clear my dad is divorced so why does he wear a damn wedding ring? He needs to find a girlfriend or something!

“You have no idea how stressful it is! Why can’t I go to some little party just to unwind?”

“I was young once too! I just don’t want you to go down a bad path. You have so much more to learn. This isn’t a good habit to form when you go to college.” It was then that I blew up on him.

“Hey at least I am going to college! Unlike a certain dumbass cop…” His eyes widened and I saw nothing but pure anger on his face,

"I was going to shorten your grounding sentence, but after that attitude not anymore!" He then slammed the door once again.

Trent texted me a bit later, asking if I was going to be able to go to Brittney’s homecoming party. Shit! I forgot about that! There was no way I was going to miss it so we devised a plan for me to sneak out.

The night arrived and I had my plan all set. Trent was going to call the cops on some other party to lure my dad away. When he leaves, Trent will come and pick me up and it's party time! I was in my room pretending to be bored, when right on schedule, my dad came in.

"I got another dumbass party to shut down so stay here, and don't even think about leaving this room. You're still grounded." He had a serious look in his eye.

"Sure sure. I'll be good," I said sarcastically. I looked out the window and as soon as his car was out of sight, I texted Trent. Within minutes he arrived. I quickly got dressed and he picked me up.

"Dude, you're either the bravest guy ever, or the stupidest."

"Hey, I won't stay too long. Just enough to see what it's like really. And then I'll be back in my room before he comes home."

The house was easily twice as packed as the last party, it was incredible. Brittney came down the stairs and approached me with a confused look on her face.

"Hey, wait I thought you were grounded or something. Aren't you afraid your dad is gonna come back? He better not."

"Nah, relax. He's doing some other stupid police work. I won't stay too long anyway."

"Allright, if you say so."

I went to the kitchen, like last time, to find an even bigger variety of drinks! Nobody else was in there so I thought I'd experiment myself this time. I picked up the shaker and started pouring drinks, even though I didn't know what the hell they were. But I didn't care! I'm just glad I was able to sneak away from my dad. I tried the drink and…well it was actually awful. Oh well. I headed to the dance floor and started showing off my moves. I could hear everyone cheering me on until I felt a bit faint. The last thing I remembered was falling over and a couple people looking at me concerned.

When I opened my eyes, I was outside in the dark. What happened? Was I that drunk and they kicked me out? I felt pretty normal though. I walked back up to the door. When I closed it, a draft flew in, which was especially cold on my head for some reason. I let out a deep breath and when I turned around, everyone was staring at me. But it wasn't the type of confused stare I expected; it was a terrified stare. The music stopped and it felt like they were staring into my soul.

"Uh, I'm ok now.” My voice sounded really weird. There was an awkward silence until someone shouted in the back.

"Well party's over…AGAIN!" As everyone started walking out, I noticed Brittney was yelling at someone on the floor.

"Nah, fuck you Garrett. You're not allowed here again. Get up!" Weird coincidence that there was a guy with the same name as me on the dance floor too. As the crowd cleared, I felt a chill down my back as I found “Garrett” looked exactly like me! He seemed to be unconscious. When I approached him and Brittney, she looked up at me…which was weird because we were the same height. Did she get shorter or something?

"Oh uh, he didn't get beat up or anything bad. Just had a few drinks I guess." She spoke so compliantly, unlike the normal way she gives me attitude with every sentence. I noticed the guy on the floor was wearing my clothes too. He didn't just look like me, he WAS me! Was he a clone or something? What's going on? A breeze came through the still-opened door and hit my head again. Why is it so cold up there? I touched the back of my head, and felt a smooth spot. What the fuck? I searched around for my hair…for ANY hair! But all I could find was a smooth bald head. It couldn't be…I looked down at myself and found I was wearing a police officer's uniform, complete with the badge and full utility belt. Brittney stared at me, concerned.

"Is uh everything all right, officer?" No no! Don't call me that!

"I uh, can I use your bathroom?"

"Uh yeah, it's up the stairs and to the left."

As I made my way up and through the hallway, I stared down at my hands, noticing eerily similar things - a wedding ring and a watch that looked exactly like the one my dad wore. I opened the bathroom door and quickly locked it. I gazed into the mirror to find my fears had come true. I turned into my dad!

I grabbed my cheeks and tried pinching them, to make sure it wasn't all a prank and I was just wearing a mask, but nope. I could feel it all. It was real. Fuck! I saw how smooth and shiny my head was; I knew he shaved his head every morning, but I didn't realize how smooth doing that actually made it. It's like a fuckin bowling ball. I hate this! I had long hair before and now it's just all gone! It was freezing up there! I hated cops, so it was really uncomfortable wearing an officer's uniform too.

"Hey are you ok in there?" It was Brittney. I faked a flush and washed my hands.

"Is Garrett still asleep?" It felt weird referring to myself in the 3rd person.

"Yeah he won't wake up."

"I'll just carry him to the car."

Brittany walked to the kitchen, probably to clean up the alcohol before I saw the amount of it. When I got to the living room, I found Marty standing there. He looked up when he approached me and pointed at me. 

“Hey you! What do you think you’re doing?” Shit. Does he know?! 

“I’m sorry I-” He turned his fake frown into a smile.

“Don’t be. Sometimes we just can’t let anything else come before our duty. Even me.” He leaned over to kiss me. What?! What’s going on? “I guess we’ll have to reschedule that date to some other time.”

A date? Does this mean the whole time, my dad was gay? And for Marty? Was the whole wedding ring thing a facade? Marty actually had one too so maybe they both did it to prevent a scandal within the police department or something? I snapped back to reality when I noticed Marty was still waiting for an answer.

“Uh yeah, sure. Of course!”

“Good! Let me know!” He rubbed my bald head. It was then that I started getting hard …my dad's cock was getting hard. Marty wasn’t my type though! But suddenly the thought of him was making me feel good. Is this because I'm in my dad's body or because he's flirting with me? 

I picked up..myself..off the dance floor and put him over my shoulder. I walked over to my dad's police car, and reached into my pocket for the keys to open it. I placed…myself inside, buckled him in, took my phone out of his pocket, and sat down in the driver's seat. I always hated my dad and hated cops in general but it felt pretty awesome actually sitting in the driver's seat of a police car. Like one of those movies where they have to steal one to save the world or something. The flashing lights were still on, but luckily I knew how to turn them off. I pressed the button and began driving home.

When I got home, I picked up my body once again, and carried him. It didn't really occur to me earlier, but if I'm in my dad's body, does this mean he's in my body? Fuck, I can't stand the thought of my dad going around embarrassing me in front of everyone! But he still hadn't woken up yet. What if whatever magical spell made us swap was keeping him asleep? But if he does wake up I need somewhere to put him at least. I walked upstairs and towards his room, and placed him on his own bed. I guess that'll do. I went over to my own room and plopped onto my bed, the pillow feeling extra comfy touching my bare head. I rubbed it again, actually kinda enjoying how it felt. Even though the body belongs to my dad, I'm still borrowing it right now. So I guess I have the freedom to touch myself anywhere. Not that I would want to go…down there. That's my dad's cock, gross! But I'm gonna need to jerk off eventually; I'm already feeling kinda horny now…but why? The thought of Marty crossed my mind and I suddenly was imagining him naked. Shit, not this again. He kinda was cute though, in like a lame cop kinda way. Man, I honestly wanna fuck him now.

At this point my cock was getting so stiff that I could barely take it. I started stripping, taking the heavy utility belt off first. Each garment came off until I was just in my dad's boxers.

I can't believe I was about to do this. I felt around my new dad bod, then peeled the underwear down to see my dad's cock. It was actually pretty big, maybe like 10 inches or so! So nasty…but I had to focus on the thought of Marty to stay hard. I took the underwear off so I was fully nude, laid down on my bed and started jerking it. I imagined Marty cornering me against the wall, kissing me until he grabbed my cock. He then got down on his knees and started sucking it until…I was pulled out of my fantasy and came. The white load shot all over my bed, much further than I could ever do in my body! After the climax wore off, I realized how gross it was that my dad's cum was all over my bed. But it felt so good! Actually, I have no clue how long I'm gonna be like this, or how long my dad is going to stay asleep so I could definitely take over his life for a bit. I'm not grounded anymore! Even better, I guess I'm a cop now so I have power and authority! I took my dad's phone - I mean MY phone - and called up Marty.

"Hey Marty, I have an idea…”

[gaytotaldrama]

a fic for @tdlover1126 who asked for some team amazon femslash. hope you enjoy!!

(also on my ao3)

“Sierra, can I…can I talk to you?”

“Of course, Codykins! Any time!” Sierra angles her makeshift wheelchair to face him. “We are best friends now, duh.”

“Right.” It’s a bajillion degrees up here at the top of the volcano, waiting for Heather or Alejandro to come in first place. Sierra is actually feeling pretty lucky to be bald right now, judging by the way Lindsay keeps brushing stray strands of sweaty hair out of her face and - is Trent actually dripping? So gross! She should remember to snap a picture of that.

“So, um.” Cody looks super awkward, unsure and nervous. “I don’t really know how to say this…”

“Do you need to hide a body?” Sierra asks him expectantly. “Because I know of a couple veeeery discreet spots.”

“I didn’t kill anyone, Sierra.”

“Just checking!”

“No, it’s…” He fidgets. “Well…you know how we were on Team Amazon?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And how Chris and all the guys kept making fun of me because I was the only dude on the team…”

“Oh, but that didn’t matter!” Sierra squeals. “You were like our honorary little boy-toy!”

“Right.” Cody sighs. “But that’s just the thing. I…I’m not, like…”

“Yeah?”

“It’s…I can’t…”

“Cody,” she says sincerely, laying a hand overtop of his. “I promise that I will not judge you. No matter what. You can trust me.”

“Sierra,” he says, and looks up at her with an expression like a deer caught in headlights. “I’m a girl.”

She blinks. Blinks again.  “You mean, like, you’re trans?”

“Well, uh…” Cody shrugs half-heartedly, nods. “Yeah, I guess. Yeah.”

“How long have you known?” Sierra can’t help but question.

Another shrug. “Dunno. My whole life? Since a week ago? It’s hard to pinpoint an exact…moment. You know?”

She nods. “Sure. So…do you want to use she/her pronouns from now on?”

Cody’s face muscles stop twitching, relaxing with relief. “Yes! I - Thank you, Sierra. I had a feeling you’d understand.”

“Well, I am your biggest fan,” she reminds her. “If I didn’t keep tabs on every little thing about you, then who would?”

Cody laughs, glancing downward. The gap between her teeth seems extra cute today. A bead of sweat drips its way down her nose. “I was thinking…Could you call me Jody from now on? I know it’s not that different from Cody, but…” She flushes - it might be due to the heat, but Sierra chooses to ignore that particular notion. “...I think it suits me.”

Sierra reaches out, and pinches her cheek. “Of course, Jodykins! You know, I’ve always been way more into girls than guys…”

Jody grins, Gosh that tooth gap!!! “You’re the first person I’ve ever told.”

Sierra smiles at her. “Thank you for trusting me, Jody. I’m super excited for you!!”

“Yeah. Me too.” A beat. “Hey, Sierra?”

“Yeah?”

“I was kinda thinking…you know, now that the game’s over and we can go back to normal life…Would you maybe wanna - “

“Look!” shouts Owen suddenly, pointing up ahead. “It’s them!”

Sure enough, Alejandro has crested the hill, Heather trudging slowly behind him. Sierra starts to feel that familiar rush of adrenaline she gets whenever a full-stakes no-holds-barred totally dramatic finale is on.

“Honey-baby-bear, I totally wanna hear what you have to say,” she starts. “But I really have to be invested in this endgame right now.”

Next to her, Jody giggles. “Sure. I totally understand.” They both turn their attention forward to the game at play.

And atop the chair’s armrest, a hand reaches out to grasp Sierra’s own.

[toomx]

Ted Lasso 3x06 Thoughts

First off, I stayed up way too late to watch this for someone with places to be in the morning but wtv 🤷‍♀️

Am I going to watch it again later? Yes, it’s just that good.

MEGA SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT, I PROMISE

First off, staying in the houseboat of a strange man in a strange country is wildly unsafe, but that’s Rebecca’s (bad) choice to make. Also, did the psychic not say something about drowning or swimming or something???

He seems nice and all but me, personally, I would not spare a second thought for a bald man with a foot fetish. But I mean, get it queen.

Keeley and Jack seem to be actually fleshing out a relationship and I’m very excited to see how it goes. Especially with Roy and even Jamie

Higgins’ marriage could never have problems wbk, but I must admit I was a tad bit concerned with all his talk of the red-light district.

If I was Will Kitman and upon being told I was going to “become a man” an entire team of people said “nah” I’d enter my villain era. But again, get it king. (I love that he told his mother about having a/getting invited to a threesome. I like to think he had one but that’s just me.)

This episode turned me into a Roy/Jamie liker. I’m sorry, there’s no hope for me now, they’ve given me too many gay people and I no longer know how to behave.

In all seriousness, James Tartt Sr. Better sleep with both eyes open cause when I find him... oh boy.

Also Jamie teaching Roy how to ride a bike made me cackle

Only my favourite himbos would spend their entire time in Amsterdam trying to agree on something to do in Amsterdam. And I absolutely adore the fact that a bunch of grown men decided the best course of action was to have a pillow fight.

Ted wandering around Amsterdam under the general impression that he’s just done drugs, only to wind up at the Van Gogh Museum, have a meaningful conversation about sunflowers, go to an American restaurant, hallucinate Nate Shelley as a cowboy (which was a jumpscare btw), hallucinate some more about triangles , then suddenly be a football coach genius was everything I didn’t know I needed.

Last but not least, the crème de la crème, the Colin and Trent plot line.

As much as I loved Trent’s outfit, I think he needs a stylist cause 🧍‍♀️

The sheer amount of times i’ve recited “I know, I’ve known for months, I haven’t told anyone, I must have a reason for that mustn’t I?” is crazy. (I wrote the word ‘must’ in class today and sent myself off again)

Also, the fucking (silent) scream I scrumpt!!!

Good day to be a Queer Trent Crimm Truther I must say

When I tell you I had to pause and walk around my room to prevent myself from screeching

Also, I would like to know what Trent’s plan was exactly cause he decided “Yeah! I’ll follow Colin to a gay bar and come up behind him! He’ll love and appreciate that!”

Colin’s spiel made me cry ngl

Richmond singing on a bus!!! Life is good! Great even!

[poedamneron01]

TRENT BERETTA X F!READER

summary: discussing baby names with Greg two months out from giving birth

A/N when I write ‘B/N’ I mean “baby’s name”, or if I write it again I mean a different name! The baby names I personally liked in this little idea for the final ones were Lorenzo and Skylar. I also love the shit out of how this has turned out, please enjoy soft Trent/Greg ❤️

Masterlist.

Y/N sat down with a huff, leaning back against the couch and closing her eyes as she brought her hands up to rest on her incredibly swollen stomach. Being seven months pregnant was beginning to take it’s toll on Y/N, where she was beginning to feel exhausted after completing the smallest of tasks, body aches in muscles she never knew existed and the constant need to pee. Y/N was a wrestler with AEW too before falling pregnant, being involved with training new talent while also being heavily involved with the Best Friends. “Hey baby.” Greg spoke softly, carefully sitting beside his partner who looked so exhausted it pained him. To this day after almost nine years together, Greg still thought Y/N was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life and felt like he fell for her all over again every day he woke up beside her. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open and she gave Greg a tired smile as he sat beside her, his arm extending to rest along the couch behind her head. “Hey.” She responded, pushing herself to sit up with a sigh “Are you tired?” Greg asked, moving his outstretched arm to push some of the hairs that fell in Y/N’s face out of the way and she nodded “Yeah I am actually, but we have so much to do.” She frowned looking over at Greg who was smiling gently “We got plenty of time before we have to leave Tuesday.” He assured her and she shook her head “Have a nap, I’ll keep working on the nursery.” He told her gently and she once again shook her head “Absolutely not, we are getting this shit done.” She sternly told him, pushing herself forward as best she could, though struggling. Greg laughed watching as Y/N tried to get up “I already called Dustin to come help me.” Greg chimed in and the death glare he received made him laugh harder. Y/N could just imagine the conversation between the two men: “Dude please come and help me put these together.” “You don’t know how to put together a flat pack? God you are such a hopeless idiot.”

“He said he would be here in an hour, so for now we have time to relax, have a nap.” Greg bargained and Y/N shrugged “Well lets at least make it a productive hour then!” Y/N smiled and scooted closer to Greg, nestling as best she could into his side while resting her left hand on her belly. “Lets talk names.” Y/N began as Greg leaned down, kissing the side of her head as she grabbed the notepad and pen that sat beside her on the couch. Greg nodded, extending his arm once more behind Y/N’s head, his other hand resting on the bump “Ok,” Y/N began, drawing a quick line down the middle of the page, before labelling the two columns ‘Boy names’ and ‘Girl names’. “let’s start with Boy names!” She grinned and looked up at Greg who’s thumb gently stroked the side of her stomach as Y/N rest the notepad on-top of her bump. “I was thinking B/N.” She told him, writing the name down as he nodded, trying to imagine what their possible son would look like. “What about B/N?” Greg added and Y/N added it to the list. This would go on for ten more lines before they eventually go onto girl names “I want a girl.” Greg added and Y/N smiled “Well this makes things interesting, I want a boy.” She smiled and Greg smirked, his eyebrows raising “Oh yeah?” He asked, leaning down to peck her on the lips a few times “Hell yeah.” She nodded and he chuckled as she began listing off girl names, Greg contributing “How about B/N?” Greg asked scratching the top of his bald head and Y/N gasped “B/N Marasciulo.” Her eyes widened at how perfect it sounded for their little girl. Seeing Y/N’s reaction made Greg’s heart swell with so much, he could not believe how lucky he was. “That sounds amazing, B/N Marasciulo.” He grinned and Y/N smiled, circling the name. “Now it’s just for the boy.” Y/N puffed her cheeks as she exhaled, eyes scanning the list “You can choose the boy name.” Greg told Y/N and she sent him a look “No, this will be a decision we make together, especially if you don’t like the name I choose.” Greg chuckled and nodded “Ok fair enough.” Y/N rattled off the names under her breath, along with their last name, seeing if any had a nice ring to them. “God why is this so much harder.” Y/N whined as she felt the baby kick Greg’s hand hard, causing him to jump in shock and Y/N to giggle “Right? If this is the universe telling me I’m having a girl I will sob.” Y/N joked down at her bump. Greg rolled his eyes playfully “She’s already gonna kick some ass like her momma with a kick like that.” Greg grinned proudly, pulling away and sliding to sit in between Y/N’s legs on the floor, his elbows resting either side of her thighs as he leaned down to talk to the baby. Y/N smiled adoringly as she watched Greg whisper to her bump, the baby moving and kicking as he kissed and rubbed the bump lovingly. “What about B/N?” Y/N asked out of the blue and the baby did a few faster kicks and Greg laughed “I think we have a winner.” Y/N giggled as she wrote the name down, before tossing the notepad and pen to the side. “I love you Greg.” Y/N sat forward, her hands cupping Greg’s beard clad face “I love you Y/N.” He added softly and the two met for a kiss.

The two pulled apart as they heard the front door open and close as a loud voice filled their small home “Uncle Dustin is here and ready to rumble!” Greg chuckled and shook his head as Dustin’s heavy footsteps made their way down the hall and into the lounge-room where his two close friends were. The sight before Y/N and Greg had them laughing, where Dustin was wearing an unbuttoned flannel shirt, a black t-shirt underneath and a pair of shorts, with a tool belt and work boots to complete the look. “Welcome Bob-the-Builder!” Y/N grinned, Greg held her hands and helped her up off the couch as Dustin grinned “Hello stunning Y/N!” The tall man walked over, bringing the girl in for a tight hug, kissing the top of her head “I’ve come to save they day, because your husband is a dumbass who can’t build for shit.” Greg frowned “I am standing right here you know.” Y/N giggled as the two men hugged one another “I will repay with Wawa and alcohol Dusty.” Y/N told the Kentucky man and he whooped “God Greg, you are so lucky you married that woman, she makes you more tolerable.” Dustin joked and Y/N gasped “Hey.” She frowned, trying to hide her laugh, wrapping her arms around Greg’s midsection “Don’t listen to him babe you are great.” Y/N leaned up, pecking Greg on the cheek and he smiled, sinking into his wife’s arms “Yeah, yeah.” He mumbled as Dustin chuckled “Come on lets get this shit out the way, I want to hear what my niece or nephew’s name will be.” The trio, who had been friends for ten plus years previous to now, all set off to the nursery to finish setting everything up. “Actually we wanted to ask you something man.” Greg started as the three of them piled into the nursery, the boys sitting down on the floor while Y/N sat herself in the rocking chair “Go for it.” Dustin groaned as he plopped onto the ground “Did you want to be the godfather?” Y/N asked and Dustin looked between his two friends for a few seconds in silence, before grinning “Fuck yeah!” He exclaimed and Y/N and Greg smiled.

They could not wait for the little one to come Earth side, they were counting down the days.

[simquoya]

beginning ● previous | next

transcript ↴

tanisha: okay, i don't need much out of here. i'll be quick.

sage: take your time.

tanisha: trent wants me to dye his hair, but girl iono what im doing. i don't know why he insists on signing me up for this stuff.

sage: i dye my hair. it's not too hard.

tanisha: sage. i am loyal to my hairstylist for a reason. if trent's bald when you see him again you know what happened.

sage: [laughs] oh my watcher!

tanisha: ooh, can you grab me a box of tampons? a box with the regular and super, please.

sage: yeah, sure.

•

sage: [thinking] wait... day 32? fuck.

[trentaafcsblog]

Prompts - Gemma Collins

6. “Kiss my designer vagina”

A cheeky bonus for my bestest gewl @travellvogue, ask and you shall receive, you’ve definitely earned your divaship after requesting this one xxx

You’ve been a brat all day, you know you have. Pushing all of Trent’s buttons for no particular reason and driving him up the walls with your petty comments and unnecessary remarks, especially the ones that you let slip in front of his mates. The look that’s etched deeper and deeper into his face each time you make a snidey reference informing you that your relationship will be ending tonight if you don’t stop what you’re doing, but you’ve started now, and you’re not one to do things half-heartedly, so you might as well keep digging. 

“You might wanna tell her to keep her wandering eyes under control the next time she’s around my man” you sass when one of his friends happens to mention his girlfriend, everybody falling silent and turning around to look at you, in shock that such a timid and polite person has suddenly shown a different side - one that they definitely never associated with you. “Oopsie, didn’t you know that she was busy undressing T with her eyes the last time you came over? You wanna watch her, my love, the next girl might not be so forgiving” you smile, taking a sip of your water before looking across at T and gently tilting your head to the side. “Stop it” he’s mouthing, his knuckles turning white when you shake your head and a small smirk breaks onto your face, confirming that he’s fighting a losing battle if he thinks you’re packing this in anytime soon. 

“If looks could kill” you tease when he shuts the door after his friends and turns around to face you. “What’s got you all moody, hey?” you’re cooing, reaching out to cup the side of his face and pissing him off even more with your sudden innocence. “You” he snaps, taking a step towards you and it’s like he’s flicked a switch for a split second, your attitude flying out of the window and being replaced by an overwhelming sense of submission, the rage in his eyes leaving your jaw hanging open slightly, your previous words of spite now struggling to free themselves from your throat. “Thanks for making me the friend with the biggest bitch as their girlfriend” he’s spitting, scoffing at the end of his comment when the memories of you taking digs at anyone and everyone flood his mind.

“I’m glad I’m the reason that you’ve taken that top spot” you’re saying smugly, genuinely never feeling prouder of an achievement that clearly T never thought he’d win. “Just stop” he’s hissing, looking you up and down in disgust whilst you stand before him shaking your head and twirling a section of hair around your finger, just like you’ve been doing all day - something you’ve never done before but it compliments the bitchiness perfectly. “Not unless you make me” you sass back, your voice barely a whisper come the end of your words because Trent’s already anticipated what you’re about to say, not that he was expecting anything less to leave your mouth after today’s attitude. Taking a step back towards you and grabbing the top of your throat with one of his hands, his thumb gently stroking along your jaw and forcing your eyes to lock with his. 

“Up you go then” he’s saying, his breath hot across your face and causing goosebumps to arise on the surface of your skin as he nods towards the staircase. Looking at you for a few seconds and smirking slightly when he realises that you’ve been completely paralysed by his stare, something about his dominance stopping the connection between his words and your actions. “Up” he’s saying again, much more harshly this time and you’re not hesitating any longer as you move from before him and take a few paces to the left. Looking back over your shoulder to check that he’s following you as you make your way up the stairs, stopping when you reach your side of the bed. And you can’t help but turn back to old ways whilst you wait for him to catch up, the same section of hair that you’ve been playing with all day finding itself being wrapped around your finger again at the thought of what’s to come, a pool of arousal growing in the crotch of your panties the closer his footsteps come to reaching you. 

“Pack it in” he’s snapping when he walks in to see you staring at him through your eyelashes with the same smirk that been stuck on your face all day. “Well don’t just fucking stand there” he’s saying, moving towards you and practically pushing you onto the mattress before his fists are bunching up in your dress and helping the material slide over your head. “Look at ya” he’s growling, referring to the damp mark that’s stained the lace of your baby pink thong. “Better get rid of that” he’s saying, peeling it away from your body and inspecting the pearlescent pool in the crotch for a few seconds before it’s being discarded onto the floor.

“You’re gonna stop being a brat now, aren’t ya?” he’s asking, lifting your chin with his index finger so that you’re looking straight at him. “Gonna let me get my own back, hmm?” he’s pushing, waiting for you to nod until he’s lowering himself down to your pussy. “I don’t wanna hear anymore from you” he’s mumbling, his nose now level with your clit. And obviously you’ve got to have the last word since your bitchiness is about to have an end put to it, so you can’t help but break the promise you’ve just made when the warmth of T’s breath spreads across your core.

“Kiss my designer vagina” you’re whispering, purposely saying it quietly just to wind him up because silence was never an option when you set off to insult everybody this morning. “Fucking slut” he’s scoffing, ripping your legs apart with his hands and looking up at you before he’s pressing a gentle kiss to your clit, something in him caving in and just giving you what you want. And just like you, once he starts there’s no stopping him. His tongue repeatedly licking stripes up and down your pussy whilst you grip onto his curls for dear life, tugging harder when he pushes himself further into your core or his lips form a suction around your sensitive nub. Pulling away for a few seconds to admire you struggling for something to say, your brain giving up on trying to string several words together and instead leaving you helpless, only a few whines and whimpers falling from your lips as you gently buck your hips towards T’s face in the hope of some sort of release. 

“Gotta be kidding if you think you’re getting off that easily” he’s saying, shaking his head at your desperation as you try to push him back down to where you need him the most. And god you’re only made even more needy when he turns his head to the side slightly and the lights catch the stripe of arousal that runs from his nose down into his beard. A thicker coating on his Cupid’s bow from where the indentation holds more of your juices, only to release them when he looks down and a bead trickles onto his top lip, his tongue hardly giving it chance to continue its journey before its swiping it away with a satisfied hum.

He’s waiting until you’re practically begging him for more, the desperation in your eyes making him smile slightly now that you’re getting a taste of your own medicine. Watching every groan and tensing of your muscles as he lays between your legs and looks up at you, your eyes meeting his a few times before they’re fluttering shut and your imagination is taking you to all of the places that he isn’t, hence the random bursts of heavy breathing and the occasional whimper. And now he’s the one being a bitch because he’s just latched onto your pussy again with no warning, purposely waiting until you’re lost inside your own head before he’s making all of those dreams come true. His tongue moving at a hundred miles an hour as it dips in and out of your folds, managing to capture every single nerve ending as it does so. Flicking over your clit and causing surges of pleasure to ripple through your cunt and down into your legs, his hands now pinning them down to stop them from trembling so intensely.

“Fuck T” you’re whimpering, your brain finally stringing two words together and helping you out of your pleasure-induced, borderline paralytic state. “Shut up” he snaps, ripping his mouth away from your core just as your orgasm starts building. “Told you to be quiet” he’s hissing, the rage that was behind his eyes a few moments ago now returning, eliciting the same submissive change in you. “I’ve got work to do” he’s mumbling before carrying on where he left off. And fuck, it’s the hardest thing ever to try and keep quiet, especially when he starts slurping away at your juices at the most ridiculous volume because he knows it drives you insane. Your whole hands almost white from how hard you’re gripping onto T’s curls, twisting different sections around your fingers each time he brushes over a particularly sensitive spot to the point where it’ll be a miracle if he’s not bald by the end of this.

He knows your body like the back of his hand so he’s sensing when you’re seconds away from cumming, your pussy tensing up against his mouth and spasming gently against his nose as the knot in your tummy starts being pulled tighter and tighter and tighter. And then it’s snapping. A gush of your juices releasing themselves all over his face, completely drenching his features whilst your clit continues to contract uncontrollably. Beads of your arousal trickling from his forehead and down onto his nose before dripping off into the bedsheets - a sight you can’t seem to get enough of when you finally open your eyes. 

“Alright?” he’s asking as he wipes his face with the back of his hand, your juices now running down his arm. “Mhm” you’re replying, shuffling up the mattress until you’re in a sitting position. “Won’t be doing that again, will ya?” T’s saying, obviously referring to your bratty behaviour but you can’t help but throw a bit of sass in there again, especially since his way of ‘punishing’ you is quite frankly what dreams are make of. “Do what? Lay there with my legs over your shoulders whilst you eat me out?” you ask, tilting your head innocently and looking at him. “Don’t start this again” he’s groaning, practically pleading with you to just pack it in for five minutes because he can’t take another snidey remark or dig at his ex-girlfriend for living on the same planet as you.

But you just can’t help yourself, not when you’ve been treated so ‘badly’ the first time. The anger behind his eyes and the dominance that he can so easily exert over you, making you completely powerless in a matter of seconds, only giving you another reason to piss him off.

“I saw you looking at Tyler’s girlfriend when she wore those shorts the other day, not very respectful to be looking at your big brother’s lady is it?” you question, biting your bottom lip and waiting for him to snap again. 

——————————————————————————

PS - I made myself cringe so hard writing this (I haven’t written any proper smut in like forever) that it genuinely made my arsehole hurt for the whole 5 days that it took to write it so please give it some love to save my tears xxx

[irishseeeker]

Prompt: Day 1, Jealousy and all its cousins @katexanthonyweek​

Kate Bridgerton  was definitely not jealous.

(She was.)

rating: mature!

---

Kate tried really not to dislike people.

That did not mean she was always successful but she truly did try to give people the benefit of the doubt.

It became an exceedingly hard task when certain people made it incredibly difficult for Kate to like them. Especially before she knew them.

For example, the woman across the room who was standing far too close to her husband, openly flirting with him.

That was hard to like.

Kate was not a fool, she noticed how women behaved around Anthony. She could accept women would always be attracted to Anthony. He had been a notorious rake for a reason, after all. It made no difference to their marriage, Anthony was hers. Whenever he was in a room, the female gaze naturally drew to him.

She could not blame them. Her charming husband, who would kill her if he ever heard her say this, was beautiful.

He was incredibly handsome but there was so much more. There was no better feeling than being wrapped up in his broad shoulders and muscular arms. He had long, dark eyelashes every woman dreamed of. He had a strong jawline that she loved to kiss and trace with her fingertips when they lay in bed. He had a head full of dark hair that she loved to run her fingers through, unlike some men his age who were already bald.

Kate herself could barely keep her eyes off of him and she got to see him everyday, especially when no one else did. She got to see him when he first woke up in the morning, completely content with his tousled hair and half awake eyes. She had the privilege of seeing him with his shirt slightly unbuttoned, his cravat loose and best of all-with nothing on at all.

It was a challenge sometimes in public not to touch him, especially at balls and parties when he was dressed so well. She usually kept her hands occupied with a drink or an appetizer.

Anthony usually subtly touched her anyway, always improperly, to tease her or just because he wanted to.

(Even when she blushes and scolds him for it, they both know she loves it.)

However, she could not accept women who stepped a bit too far. From across the room, a woman was talking to Anthony. She was leaning towards him, taking subtle steps towards him and creating an improper distance between them. The woman was petite, blonde and her skin glowed in the dimmed lighting of the ballroom. She was beautiful.

She also had her hand on Anthony’s forearm.

Kate did not like this feeling. This bitter, bubbling anger in the pit of her chest as she watched Anthony across the room.

She was not jealous.

(She was.)

Technically, that was also Kate’s forearm. She had married that forearm just under a year ago.

They would be celebrating their one year anniversary, hosting their first ball as Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton in Aubrey Hall next week. The ball would mark the end of the season, and Anthony and Kate were staying in Aubrey Hall for the rest of the summer before returning to London.

Kate was incredibly nervous.

She still felt at odds with her role as Viscountess. Her broken leg had put a stop to her social calendar after only a month of marriage, and she had not been able to carry out many of her roles as Viscountess.

It had taken a few months for her leg to heal. Kate could finally walk again, without the need for her stick or Anthony’s arm. Anthony had objected to their vigorous social calendar since the season had started but Kate was determined to attend as many balls as they could. Anthony, of course, was always by her side.

She was trying to do exactly as Violet Bridgerton would. Her days were now filled with parties, balls and social calls. Her first ball as Viscountess would be perfect.

It had to be.

She could not bear to think of the possibility of disappointing Violet and Anthony. There was a nagging feeling deep inside her, that society had been right to question why Anthony Bridgerton had chosen Kate Sharma to be his viscountess. The whispers that she was not fit for the role.

She was determined for those whispers not to be right.

Kate knew how lucky she was to have Anthony. Her marriage was wonderful, something she never would have dreamed of for herself. They loved each other to the point it was almost nauseating, as Eloise and Colin enjoyed to remind them, but they were also friends.

Anthony was her best friend.

Oh, she truly was nauseating.

The woman currently talking to her husband was making it exceedingly hard for Kate to concentrate on anything but them. Anthony had been talking to this mystery woman for just over three dances, when Kate had left him to dance with Benedict. This woman was now laughing at something Anthony said, her blonde curls bouncing in the air as her head tilted back.

What was so funny?

Kate loved her husband to death but he was not that funny.

“You cannot keep dancing with me to avoid dancing with other eligible ladies,” Kate teased Benedict, deciding to focus on her brother in law who was waltzing with her for the third time that evening.

“Can I not enjoy the company of my sister and not have any ulterior motives?” Benedict’s grin was wide across his face as he spun Kate around, narrowly avoiding her clumsy feet. She was a challenged dancer on her best days but when she was distracted by her husband across the room, it was every dancer for themself.

She glanced across the room again and now Anthony was laughing. Why was he laughing? She hoped it was a pitiful laugh.

“I thought I was doing you a favor by asking you to dance for a second and third time,” Benedict said, “I was distracting you from glancing over at my dear brother every few seconds.”

“I was not glancing. I was simply observing the room,” Kate said, but even Kate did not believe herself. She was blatantly staring at her husband. “Besides, we both know you are dancing with me to avoid dancing with one of the eligible ladies your mother is trying to marry you off to.”

“I believe three dances is all we have, so in a few moments I will have to venture back into the wild and attempt to avoid my mother for the rest of the evening,” He said, “However, I have been waiting for you to ask me who he is conversing with since the last dance. I thought you would give in five minutes ago”

“The thought had not crossed my mind.” Anthony had told her previously what a terrible liar she was. She previously thought it was because he knew her so well that she was incapable of lying to him, but she really was quite dreadful at it.

“Your face says otherwise.” Benedict glanced down at their feet before his teasing gaze returned to Kate’s face. “You have stepped on my feet at least four times while staring over there.”

A pang of guilt hit her. She was being rather rude. It was Benedict, so she knew he was not actually offended. Kate had gotten to know him quite well since her marriage. He joined them for dinner quite often, and spent a lot of time with Anthony at Whites or at their home. “You know, this is precisely why Gregory and Colin are my favourite brothers. They would never point out my flaws.”

Benedict chuckled. “Oh, how you wound me.”

Kate could not help herself. She had to know. “Who is that woman?”

Thankfully, Benedict chose not to tease and indulged her curiosity. “Her name is Eleanor Trent, previously Falmouth. My father and her, the Earl of Falmouth, attended Oxford together. They were friends until his death.”

Kate’s face fell. “She was a family friend?”

“Yes. She has brothers around the same age as Colin, Anthony and I. I know there were discussions of a betrothal, between Anthony and Eleanor. Nothing came of it, father died and Anthony would not discuss it further. He focused on the family and Oxford.” Benedict was not shy with the details, which Kate was equally grateful and upset about.

Kate’s stomach suddenly felt nauseous. Had something happened between them when they were young? Had Anthony courted her before his father’s death? Eleanor was the perfect candidate for a Viscountess. The daughter of an Earl, a family friend, a regular part of London society. “I imagine your mother was displeased.”

Kate loved her mother in law. Violet Bridgerton had been nothing but kind to Kate from the moment they met. She had been even kinder before their wedding, despite the circumstances that caused their nuptials.

They shared a lot in common, their love for gardening for one and met for tea multiple times a week, but Kate had always feared she was not the wife she had envisioned for her son. The same fear that had made itself known to Kate before her wedding remained inside of her: she feared Violet believed Kate had trapped her son.

The woman had witnessed her son’s face in Kate’s bosom, for heaven’s sake.

Benedict did not deny it. “Mother was furious when Anthony still refused three years later after he finished his studies. Eleanor later got married that season to a Baron and that was that. It took our mother a long time to learn that Anthony only does what Anthony wants to do.”

The music ceased and the dance ended, all the participants clapping before departing the dance floor. Benedict and Kate moved to the edge of the dancefloor, weaving through the crowds towards the refreshments table. Kate had been dancing for quite some time and she was quite thirsty. She wanted to find Anthony, but when she turned to look for him he had disappeared.

So had the woman.

Her heart sank in her chest.

“Brother, I believe that is enough dancing with my wife for one evening.”

Kate turned around to see her husband standing in front of her. She had regained her ability to breathe and realized how silly she was being. He smiled at her and she felt her insides melt.

It was ridiculous really, how this man’s smile always made her giddy.

She wanted to fall against his chest and bury her face in his neck, but instead she moved to his side and wrapped her arm around his. That was as affectionate as society would allow. Anthony covered his hand with hers, squeezing it briefly. It was a promise for later.

“Thank you,” She said, smiling as she took the glass in his hand and took a long sip, the dryness of her mouth disappearing. Her husband had developed a sense of always knowing what Kate needed. He had rarely left her side during her bed ridden months with her broken leg and they had spent a lot of time together.

Kate wondered if they could leave soon. She wanted the privacy to ask Anthony about that woman earlier, she could not remember him ever mentioning an Eleanor when recounting his childhood tales.

“Jealous, brother?” Benedict teased, grinning at Anthony as he took a sip of his wine. “I was always the better dancer. Kate simply wanted a better partner.”

Kate let out a long sigh, her eyes flicking between the two brothers. “Now, boys-”

“Kate took pity on you and indulged your attempts at hiding from our mother’s matchmaking endeavours.” Anthony narrowed his eyes at his brother, his competitive edge seeping out. Her dear husband did enjoy being the best at everything and disputed anyone who thought otherwise. “My waltz trounces your waltz any day.”

At the mention of his mother, Benedict scanned the room around them before visibly relaxing, his shoulders dropping. “It is a nuisance. Mother had cornered me at every ball so far this season, introducing me to potential marriage candidates. Colin had his wits about him to travel as far as Greece to get away from her.”

“You should consider looking for a wife,” Anthony said, scanning the crowded room for their mother. “I presume mother is hassling Eloise.”

“Not you too,” Benedict replied, glaring at his brother. “I am perfectly capable of finding my own wife, thank you. She simply is not here.”

Anthony, now bored of his brother, turned to his wife with a teasing smile. “How many times did you step on his toes?”

It was Kate’s turn to glare at her husband. “None, thank you very much.”

Benedict decided to join in on his brother’s teasing, glad for the change in topic. “Lying is a sin, Kate.”

“Oh, Violet!” Kate said, looking over Benedict’s shoulder.

Benedict jumped and darted to the side, causing Anthony and Kate to burst out laughing, muffling their laughter into their sleeves once other party goers began to stare.

Benedict glared at the pair of them once he realized his mother was nowhere to be seen. “Very funny. Your ball at Aubrey Hall is only next week. Maybe I shall take a page out of your book and compromise some young lady in the garden?”

That wiped the smug smirk right off Anthony’s face.

Kate had to disguise her snort with a cough into her glove.

Before he could retort, Anthony’s eyes froze at something across the room. “Who is that man Eloise is speaking to? Alone?”

Kate and Benedict’s heads turned in the direction Anthony was glaring in. The man’s head was all they could see, Eloise hands waving in the air as she spoke passionately about something.

“I will be right back,” Anthony squeezed her hand before he charged in the direction of his young sister.

“Benedict!” The distinct voice of Violet Bridgerton came from an unknown direction, but it was enough for Benedict to say a quick apology to Kate before disappearing into the crowd.

Kate found herself alone at the refreshment’s table.

“Lady Bridgerton?”

Kate finished swallowing the biscuit she had put in her mouth, trying not to choke before she turned around to see who had addressed her. Kate held in her gasp, eyes widening as she looked at the woman in front of her.

It was her.

She bowed, and Kate did the same. “It is such a pleasure to meet you, I hoped we would be introduced sooner. I have heard so much about you.”

Kate felt herself blush. This woman was assuming she knew who she was. “Apologies, I do not believe we have met.”

“Oh! Forgive me,” She said, shaking her head and laughing to herself. “I would have thought Anthony would have mentioned me. I have known Anthony and the Bridgertons my entire life. I am Lady Eleanor Trent. It is such a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Apparently, she was on a first name basis with her husband.

Kate smiled pleasantly, feeling slightly uncomfortable. “How lovely to meet you, Lady Trent.”

“I am very much looking forward to your ball in Aubrey Hall.”

Kate did not know she was invited. Violet had handled the guest list. “I am very happy to hear that.”

“I have not been there in quite some time. We used to visit Aubrey Hall a few times a year throughout my childhood. It was like a second home. I adore it. Have you been yet?”

Kate blinked slowly at her odd question. “Have I been to my home? Yes.

For some reason, Lady Trent was not phased by Kate’s blunt response whatsoever. “I have been more times than I could count. I have known the Bridgertons my entire life, as I am sure you know. That is quite funny, I have known your husband longer than you.”

Kate tried to unclench her jaw, breathing steadily through her nose. “I did not, actually.”

“Oh, how odd.” Her laugh was almost a shriek. “I was practically a Bridgerton until my marriage.”

Kate was not being dramatic, that was a peculiar thing to say. Benedict had not conveyed it that way at all.

Lady Trent continued to speak. Kate wished she wouldn't. “Was your father an Earl? A Duke? A Viscount?”

What did that have to do with anything? Kate's heart sped up at the mention of her father. “No. My father was a gentlemen. What does that have to do with anything?"

“Oh.” Lady Trent was not subtle with her disdain. “How interesting. Forgive my curiosity. One would think that must have made the transition quite difficult.”

Kate blinked. “Pardon?”

Lady Eleanor took a small sip of her wine, nodding sympathetically. “It must be difficult coming into such an important role as a Viscountess at such a young age. Especially when one is marrying a man like Anthony.”

This woman had no clue what type of man her husband was.

“I know this from experience, of course. I would be terrified if I came into the role of Viscountess with no experience,” Eleanor smiled sweetly at Kate, her voice dripping with everything but kindness. Her not so subtle dig made Kate’s blood boil.

“Oh!” She let out a cheerful laugh. “I am sure you are doing a fine job, Lady Bridgerton.”

Kate was nearly positive she had been insulted at least twice in this bizarre conversation.

If one thing was certain, it was that Kate did not like this woman at all.

She particularly did not like how she had been looking at her husband but her personality was just as unpleasant.

Kate was debating how significant the consequences would be if she launched her wine at Eleanor’s pink evening dress. She could stumble, blame it on her healed leg. It would be worth the earful she would get from Anthony, who still believed her leg had not fully healed and Kate should still be bedridden.

Kate didn’t cause scenes intentionally, she had been in the background for most of her life.

It definitely was not something a Viscountess would do, to cause such a scene, so she resisted.

Instead, she finished her glass in a few gulps. Kate replaced it with a glass from one of the server’s trays quite quickly as she composed herself.

“Thank you so much for your concern.” Kate matched the falseness of her tone, her smile stretched far too wide across her face to be genuine. “It has been a splendid year. I suppose, experience or not, some people are just born for certain roles.”

Eleanor appeared as if she was at a loss for words. She simply nodded, her smile wrinkling the skin on her forehead. “I could not agree more, Lady Bridgerton.”

“I must go find my husband. It was such a pleasure to meet you, Lady Trent. I look forward to seeing you at our ball next week.” Kate certainly was not. “Good evening, Lady Trent.”

Kate found Anthony in the crowd, he had also been searching for her. He took her arm in his, squeezing it softly. That was their signal it was time to go home. They kissed and bid their family goodnight, making their way towards the front of the house to get their carriage.

Anthony nodded at the valet and opened their carriage door, making way for Kate to step in before closing it behind them.

“I am exhausted,” She said, pulling a few pins out of her hair that had been digging into her scalp all evening. Relief flooded her head as she gently massaged her sensitive scalp. She couldn’t wait to take off her corset and go to bed.

Kate knew she would not be able to sleep until she spoke to Anthony about both of their conversations with Lady Trent. Her interaction with Lady Trent had left Kate feeling uneasy.

“Come here.” Anthony pulled her on top of him, her back resting on the carriage wall and her feet resting on the cushioned seat.

“There is a seat right beside you.” Kate laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck and lightly running her fingers through his hair.

“I prefer you on top of me.” Anthony moved his hands down to lightly squeeze her buttocks.

“I thought you liked being on top?” If he wanted to tease, Kate could tease him right back.

Anthony laughed, nuzzling her neck and leaving a trail of kisses from her collarbone all the way to her lips. “Right as always, Lady Bridgerton.”

“Did you have a good evening? I did not see you much,” She murmured against his lips. She could tell, with his fingers already creeping up her thigh, that talking was the last thing on her husband’s mind.

She would have to be quick if she wished to find out anything. The carriage ride home to Bridgeton House was less than fifteen minutes and he would not waste one of them before they had to stop.

They would not get caught in a carriage.

Again.

Once they arrived home, they wouldn’t do any talking once they got to their bed chamber.

She had enough willpower to focus on the task at hand and not let her husband completely distract her.

Right?

She needed to find out about his conversation with Eleanor.

His lips brushed hers before he spoke. “It was fine. A ball is a ball. I would have much preferred to stay home with you or at least sneak off to the gardens. Why did we not do that?”

Kate let out a laugh, her fingers tightening around his strands of hair as his lips moved down across her jaw. “How many gardens do you wish to compromise me in?”

“All of them,” Anthony said, his lips tickling the skin of her jaw as his laughter vibrated against her.

“Did you speak to anyone interesting?”

“Mm?” His teeth tugged at the top of her bodice, his tongue dipping behind the satin fabric.

“Anthony.” Her voice shook slightly as she spoke, his tongue was eliciting tingles throughout her chest and between her legs. “I said, did you speak to anyone interesting? Anyone you have not seen in a while?”

She would power through. “I met someone new, actually. Lady Eleanor.”

Anthony hummed in agreement against her skin, “Oh. Yes.”

“Benedict mentioned you have known her since you were children.”

“Indeed.” His face remained expressionless. He wasn’t listening to her. He was far too interested in pulling her dress down, which he did promptly.

Kate had lost the battle, and Anthony had won the war. He palmed her breasts in his hands, squeezing them softly as he pulled her in for a deep kiss. She could feel him hard against her thigh, and she reached down to palm him through the fabric of his breeches. His groan filled her ears and made her limbs weak.

“Oh,” She whispered, her lips parting as Anthony began to kiss his way down her neck, down her chest until his tongue grazed her nipple. He teased her momentarily before taking her fully in his mouth.

The carriage came to a halt and Kate hastily pulled up her dress, smoothening her dress and hair to fix her disheveled appearance. This was not their first indecent carriage ride. Anthony helped Kate out of the carriage, not letting go of her hand as they raced up the steps and entered the foyer, wasting no time running up the stairs.

If she did not keep up with Anthony, he would carry her up the flights of stairs to their bedroom.

Anthony dismissed her maid, fully intending on undressing his wife himself.

There wasn’t any talking for the rest of the night.

Kate’s morning had started off pleasant.

The following morning, Kate and Newton had joined Eloise and Penelope for a walk in the park. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining and the cool breeze was refreshing. They joined Kate at Bridgerton House afterwards for some lemonade, before leaving to return home.

She had called on Daphne for the remainder of the afternoon and on her way home, her carriage had stopped at Madame Delacroix’s modiste for one last fitting before the ball.

“Lady Bridgerton!”

Kate had finished her fittings and was waiting on one of her gown’s to be packaged. The last person she had wanted to see had walked into the modiste. “Lady Trent. How lovely to see you.”

She smiled widely at Kate, it was unnerving. “How are the ball preparations going?”

“Very well, thank you.” Kate had always found small talk with strangers quite uncomfortable. Kate could not find the words to describe how she was feeling in this current situation. She had not found the opportunity to discuss the evening with Anthony last night and he had left early this morning for Parliament. She would not see him until she arrived home.

“How nice,” She replied, nodding her head slowly. It reminded Kate of one of Hyacinth’s frightening dolls. “I always found the menu planning quite tedious.”

Kate nodded. “Indeed. A pleasant task, nonetheless.”

“Have you finalized your menu?” Lady Trent asked, examining the different materials in the display case.

Kate nodded. “For the ballroom, yes. We will have traditional English pastries, desserts. I would not want anyone to go hungry.”

Lady Trent continued to nod slowly, her lips in a flat line. “It is always a good idea to keep things simple. However, I do remember Anthony having a more adventurous palate.”

Kate would hardly call pastries, sandwiches, desserts and food displays she had planned simple. Kate had known this woman for a day and she had already had enough. “Why would my husband’s palate be any concern of yours, Lady Trent?”

That shut her up.

Kate squeezed the ribbons between her fingers, trying to stop her shaking hand. This woman was a beast.

“Have you ever been outside of England, Lady Bridgerton?” She asked, circling the ribbon’s display with disinterest.

“I have not,” Kate said through gritted teeth.

“What a pity.” She tutted, her curls bouncing in the air as she shook her head. “I suppose my traveling has given me a new outlook on life. It has opened me to a whole new world of cuisine and flavour. Traveling really exemplifies how dull the English customs and cuisine we are all accustomed to are.”

“I am sure it will be lovely. I must be on my way. Good day, Lady Bridgerton.” She bowed her head before turning around, swiftly exiting the modiste.

Kate was furious.

She sat incredibly still, not uttering a word during the carriage ride home until she reached Bridgerton House. She made her way towards the drawing room, not checking to see if Anthony was home in his office.

She stood in the middle of their drawing room, pacing in the same spot before she screamed.

There’s the slamming of a door and Anthony appears, Newton barking at his feet, looking incredibly alarmed. “Kate! Kate. Are you alright?”

Anthony charges towards her, holds her shoulders, scanning her entire body to assess any damage. “

“No. Yes, but no. It...it is that….that woman,” Kate spat out her words.

“What woman?” Anthony asked, frantically looking around the room.

“That woman. That, that-what was that word you taught me the other night?” Kate’s

“Bitch?” Anthony supplied, looking incredibly concerned for his wife.

“Yes!” Kate waved her arm in victory. “That bitch.”

Kate had sobbed in front of her husband before, from their declarations of love to the agony of her broken leg, but she had never expressed such fury before.

Anthony had not the slightest clue what was going on. “Kate, what the bloody hell are you talking about?”

Kate was pacing the room again. “Lady Eleanor Trent, of course. Firstly, she was standing far too close to you. Then she touched your forearm. That is highly improper-

“At the ball?” Anthony furrowed his eyebrows as he thought about it. “Wait.”

Anthony stared at her as if she had grown another head. “Kate Bridgerton. Is this all because you are jealous?”

Her husband looked positively gleeful.

“Anthony!” Kate nearly threw a pillow at him.

“I am sorry, I am sorry,” He pleaded, biting his lower lip to restrain his smile as he walked towards her with open arms. “Tell me what else happened.”

“She introduced herself and the conversation was strange. She was incredibly rude last night and this morning. She insulted me, my father, my

Anthony’s face darkened. “She insulted you? She insulted your father? That is unacceptable. I will make sure she is not welcome in London again. I will call on her and tell her exactly what I think of her-

Kate shook her head rapidly. “The last thing I want is you going near her. She has some strange infatuation with you. She referred to herself as practically a Bridgerton until she was married. Did you court her?”

“I barely knew her, Kate,” He said, looking bewildered at Kate’s words. “I had not seen her for nine years until last night. Our parents were mainly friends. Her family usually visited when I was at Eton. I most certainly did not court her, no.”

Kate did not reply, although she was relieved to hear Lady Trent’s words had been based on delusion. Kate felt incredibly overwhelmed, as if every emotion and fear she had been bottling up was crashing into her at once.

“Kate,” He stepped towards her cautiously, wary of the readily available pillows within her grasp. He sat on the couch, extending his hand towards her. “Come here, darling.”

She broke, practically falling into her husband’s arms who wrapped himself around her, pulling her onto his lap. Their foreheads and noses were touching as he spoke to her.

His lips brushed her cheek as he spoke softly. “Can you tell me what else is wrong? Is there something else going on?”

She can’t meet his eyes, instead she stares down at her hands in her lap. “I am terrified I am letting you down.”

“Kate, you could never let me down,” He says, affection flooding his voice as he tilts her chin up softly with his index finger to look at her face.

Kate took a deep breath. “You have had so much on your shoulders for so long. Since your father died. Between your family and your duties, you have always worked so hard. I want to do whatever I can to help you. I want to do this right. I want to make your life easier however I can and I want to be a good Viscountess. I am really trying. I just feel like I am failing. What if she was right? What if my lack of experience means I am not right for this role? I-I want you to be proud of me.”

He leans down to kiss her firmly and it’s the type of kiss that makes her toes curl. “Kate,” He murmured, drawing back but staying as close as possible. “You are the perfect Viscountess because you are my Viscountess. Everyone adores you. I was merely existing before I met you. After you, I began to live. You brought this light into my life that I didn’t think was possible. Everything I do is for you and everything I am is because of you. I am so proud of you. I am in awe of you. You are everything, Kate. Everything.”

“I love you,” She says, because that is all there is to say. She loved him, and he loved her, even when she acted slightly insane in their drawing room. That was all she needed. Anthony was all she needed.

She could do anything with Anthony by her side.

“I love you,” She whispered,

“Anthony,” She whispered a few minutes later, feeling a lot calmer. “I was jealous, you know.”

Anthony tried his best to not look too pleased, but he was slightly smug. “Jealousy is a difficult emotion to deal with.”

“Not all of us can shove people out of the way, you know.” If Anthony saw a man try to speak to Kate, he simply shoved them out of his way to his wife.

Anthony shrugged. “It is quite an effective method.”

“I did not like how she behaves around you,” Kate said, nibbling on her bottom lip. “When I saw her touching you and standing so close to you-I did not like how it made me feel.”

A panic stricken look flashes across his face.“Kate, I would never encourage it-”

“Sweetheart, I know,” She murmurs, cupping his cheeks in her hands as she kissed him softly. The thought had never crossed her mind and she immediately went to comfort him. “I know. I know you would never stray.”

She felt his sigh of relief. “You would kill me.”

“No I would not,” She lightly teased, pecking his lips. “That would be merciful. I would physically and mentally destroy you.”

“That will never happen,” Anthony murmured, brushing some loose strands of hair out of her eyes. “There will be no more joking about infidelity.”

Kate took a deep breath before she spoke again. “So you have noticed Eleanor flirting with you?”

Anthony cleared his throat, frowning slightly as his uncomfortableness set in. “I have noticed. She is not exactly subtle.”

“I would never have married her. She was a young girl with a crush, which I cannot fault her for. I am incredibly handsome.” Kate rolled her eyes at her husband’s cheeky smile. “However, she was never kind. These recent events have only re-confirmed that. I remember when I was seventeen, I had come home for Christmas. Her family had come to stay for a week. She was incredibly rude to our servants. She cared more about parties and appearances than family. She was so disinterested in my younger siblings to the point of being cruel. She was not the type of person I could marry.”

“Why would your mother want you to marry her?” Kate asked, resting her forehead against his.

“My mother was grieving.” Anthony shrugged his shoulders, running one of his hands soothingly down her back. “She thought she knew what was best for me. She has always chosen to see the parts of people she wanted to see. Not all the parts that were in front of her.”

“Well, I for one am very glad you did not marry her.” Teasing was always an effective way to snap Anthony out of one of his serious thoughts, and she was successful when he snorted.

“As am I.” His thumb was making small circles on her cheek.

“She insulted my choice of food for the ball.”

Anthony raised an eyebrow at his wife and stared at her. “What?”

“She called it simple English cuisine,” Kate said, still incredibly bitter. “Who in their right mind does not like scones and cucumber and chicken sandwiches?”

“Colin will be there and he will wolf them down, so there is no fear they will not be eaten.” Her brother in law was returning to England the day before their ball, conveniently missing most of the season much to his mother’s dismay.

“As someone who lives in your household, your menu choices have always been exceptional. I have also eaten many of those food choices, including off of you, and they were delicious.”

“Anthony!” She smacked his chest, laughing against his lips as he stole a kiss. He always knew how to make her feel better.

Anthony had always made her feel safe, she had trusted him even when she did not particularly like him. That stormy night in his library had changed everything. It was his nature that made people admire him and trust him. He took care of people. He had been misjudged by society, made out to be a cold hearted rake incapable of true affection.

It angered Kate beyond belief. Anthony had suffered more than most, losing his father and becoming the head of the family at such a young age. He had become a father to his siblings and a Viscount to his tenants and society. In a way, his life had begun and ended when his father died.

He was the first person she opened up to about her fear of storms and the reason she had been brave enough to face her fear.

He had become her anchor, and her his.

“Our ball is going to be wonderful, do you know why?” Anthony asked, grinning at his wife.

“Why?” She responded, smiling right back at him.

“Because it is ours,” He said simply. “It is celebrating one incredible year of marriage and many more to go.”

“Until forever.” Kate rested her forehead against his, feeling completely content.

Anthony nodded in agreement. “Forever it is.”

A week later, the Viscount and Viscountess' ball was a complete success.

The food was devoured.

Laugher could be heard all around the ballroom.

The Viscountess was praised for her efforts throughout the evening.

Lady Trent's absence was not missed.

Anthony had surprised Kate at the end of the evening with a show of fireworks.

It was perfect.

Kate and Anthony had their own private celebration that very night.

Edmund Bridgerton was born nine months later.

[syahaz]

Trent/Trenton’s Design Evolution and My Camp TV Trenton Design Commentary

Camp TV Trenton (Beta Version): This is the very first version of Trenton that taken from Todd Kauffman's blog. Don't know why it never been mentioned ever but I'm glad to found it. Not a fan of his flat fingers tho. Reminds me of Salad Fingers pfft.

Camp TV Trenton (Final Version): I prefer this canon design of Trenton more. I like his sharp fingers, which commonly appeared on TD girls lol but I would say it's one of his canon unique features that differ from Trent by silhouette other than his shoe design.

Trent (Total Drama Version): A perfection. What else to say really? ;)

Camp TV Trenton (my version/redesign):

Silly thing about his redesign is he's the only character so far that I design my instinct like I didn't consciously think about his redesign or if it looks good then it's good instead of "how to make this look good?"

Also I didn't intend him to be taller, it's the result of me stretching his body to fit with his legs and making his body more triangular. But now him being like that making him like a big bro aha haa. His shoe design is kinda cool to me because it's a mesh between two canon design.

As much as I love his second shirt font, it's practically impossible for me to replicate it every time I draw him. Sure I can copy-paste it or trace it but what about traditional artwork? I ain't spending extraneous time just for a word on a shirt lol. So for that, I went for minimalistic choice (which I have love-hate with) for a practical purpose.

His skin has some yellow tint based on how he looks from the trailer, which I most familiar with. It also good for lineless artwork to differentiate between Trent and Trenton or if they don't wear their default cloth. Plus yellow complement green so that's a nice touch I guess.

The random features I add on him are his arched shoulders, torso line, whatever that called, and unapologetic sharp chin to make him more intimidating by one look.

Explaining this going to be tedious so I'm sorry: For other parts of his hair, first I'll start with the bottom spikes. The upper point is a half longer than the lower one. The hair across his face is drawn to be solid W-shaped. The hair down from the forehead to ear reduced from 4 spikes to only two for simplicity. Lastly, the sidelines of the back hair from head to neck and front hair from head to eyebrows were flattened for more rigid tone in his design.

Additional microscopic details:

Slightly widen his arms to match up with his broad torso. Tweak his nose a little. I add a hair notch on back part of his hair for silhouette alteration, rarely forget it when drawing him but I might not using it depends on the art style. Usually the kind that leaning more towards realism. I changed Trenton's canon signature cleft chin with tiny beard - that he having hard time growing because  of his genetics barely able to grow body and facial hair which makes him insecure, not looking manly enough (my HC there hehe but don't worry he won't easily get bald or anything aha haa) - so that it can being his own signature feature. Contrarily, I get rid of it on Goth Trenton as Reunion Trent had it too. Since the former has different hairstyle than Trent, I feel like not having the beard is no issue.

TLDR: I want him to look like a stereotypical angsty teenage boy in 2000s with some threatening and mysterious traits or something along the line, acting cool and stuffs lol (funny that in canon people give annoyed look on him), so I don't need to explain much about his eyeliner pfft.

[fantasymysticworld]

Dragons A New World: Chapter 1 - Discovery Part 1

Thousands of years ago, dragons used to walk among men as one of their most trustworthy companions. However, their safety was not guaranteed and they had to flee. In present day, Juniper was only known as the dangerous orphan girl ready to attack anyone in her way, when in reality she’s just looking for a friend. Her life flips upside down when a dragon with black scales, large bat wings and eyes as blue as sky saves her in the forest. The two find common ground with each other, and together, discover the mysteries why after all these years dragons have found their way back the human world…the new world.

Unknown

An unknown facility stood in the misty woods. Each tree was the dark colour of a starless night sky, no soul and no happiness. Inside, only to screams of unknown animals that were forced to bond with terrible people. The cutting sound of a whip would force them back into submission if they went out of line again.

A man walked into a large cell area, accompanied by two heavily armed men. Each cage was as large as a studio apartment, except each one had nothing but miserable, brooding creatures that were desperate to be free. The man had black hair, lightly tanned skin, a black beard, soulless wrinkled dark eyes and wore a business suit with a black blazer. The man continued to walk down the dimly lit hall. “How is J15 doing?” he asked, sneering “Any luck?”

“I’m afraid not sir” One of the man replied “He’s still a fighter.”

Both men stood on each side of the cage, not bothering to look in, as they waved up to a couple of people behind a glass window, signalling to bring the cage forward to get a proper look at the beast. The cage zoomed forward and the man walked up to it. His face dropped and his eyes darkened even more. “He’s gone!” he screamed.

The two men on each side of the cage finally woke up from their stone-faced expression and looked in, confirming their boss’ outburst. “Idiots!” he yelled at them “Find him and find him now!”

Outside, in the woods, a creature kept running, running away from that awful place and the people inside. The loud sound of alarms went off, making its ears press flat against its head in order to block out the sound. It then took off, flapping its wings into the air. Then, as quick as it escaped, it disappeared into the misty air.

……..

 Bethesda, Washington DC

The older boy grabbed the freshman’s arm as he shoved him headfirst into the wall of the bike shed, not caring about the damaged he caused to the boy or the shed. “You think that was funny what you did to me yesterday?!” he screamed, twisting the younger boy’s arm. The yard was empty, as everyone was already in class, except for them. For he had dragged the boy behind the shed – the only place without a CCTV security camera - and kept a hand over mouth until everyone was gone, leaving him to torture the poor soul.

“W-what are you t-taking about?” the younger boy began to cry, as he struggled to get away from the stronger and scarier student. The older boy who still continued to give the youthful student pain had ivory skin, sickly green eyes, spiky dark brown hair and one earing in his left ear. He wore a red sweatshirt and looked like that he was at the age of fifteen.

“Don’t play dumb with me!” he shrieked, grinning as the freshman began to writhe underneath his grasp “You meant it! You meant to trip me up into the janitor’s bucket!”

“What!?”

“And everyone was watching! Even her…” he hissed like he had the foulest taste in his mouth “And now you’re going to pay!”

“Trent I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” the boy tried to slid away, each attempt failing “It won’t happen again!”

“Oh I know it won’t!” Trent growled “Because I’m going to break this little arm! Then I’ll break you’re kneecaps with a rock before breaking your legs with my bare hands and I’ll stamp on your feet until every little bone shatters!”

“No!” The boy bawled.

“Hey!” a new voice of a female filled the space before Trent turned around and had a fist colliding with his jaw.

……..

“This is the third time this month Mr Simmons” Principal Jones paced behind his desk. His bald head shining against the sun as his brown eyes started sadly down at the man sitting at the other side of his desk. “If Juniper keeps this up, we’re going to have to suspend her from this school.”

“I know” The man sighed. He had light-coffee shaded skin with a brittle short boxed beard growing into place, brown eyes and a large afro with thousands of curls springing into place. He looked to be in his early to mid-thirties and wasn’t half bad looking for his age. In fact, he was quite the looker. He wore a white doctor’s coat due to the fact that he was pulled from his work in the hospital in order to hear about the situation at hand. “What about Trent?”

“Trent is facing a two week suspension and will be coming in for detention on those weekends.” Principal Jones answered “However I will need Juniper to come in for detention on Monday afternoon after the weekend.”

“I know sir” said the man, rubbing his face and sighing “Juniper is going through a pretty rough time at school right now due to Trent’s behaviour.”

“I understand Rafael” Principal Jones replied calmly “Just make sure you talk to her when you get home. Violence will not be tolerated here.”

The door to the office suddenly burst open and in walked a woman, wearing a grey dress and blazer, holding Trent by the arm with her pasty face plastered with red. “This is the third time this month and you’re still letting my son get punched in the face!” she squawked.

“Mrs Hunter, your son shouldn’t even be hitting students in the first place” Principal Jones countered, his face still in its neutral position.

“Oh please, that boy is fine! That girl on the other hand could learn a manner or two.” The woman recoiled.

Rafael laughed under his breathe, only to have to said woman gawk at him in the most offended manner. “How dare you?!” She bellowed “Are you the father?!”

The muscles in Principal Jones’ face twitched. “Mrs Hunter” he muttered in a low warning tone.

“I’m just asking!” She shouted “It wouldn’t be surprised on where she gets those violent tendencies from!”

Rafael jaw dropped “Excuse me?”

Fuming, Principal Jones shot out of his seat and slammed his hands onto the table. “Mrs Hunter!” He roared.

“What is that supposed to mean?!” Rafael questioned her, using all of his might to not slam her against the wall.

“Mrs Hunter that is enough!” Principal Jones thundered with Mrs Hunter slowly turning her head, every inch of her body tense, to face him. If looks could kill, both men would be in heaven right about now. “Your son was violating against the school policy and you should be thankful that we’re not giving him a permanent suspension! Now maybe take what I said into consideration and teach your son some manners!”

Mrs Hunter’s whole face turned Crimson, as her breathing became heavier and her brows furrowed, nearly touching the bridge of her nose. “How dare you tell me how to parent!” she howled “And what about that girl?-”

“I understand you’re angry about Juniper hitting your son, but you must understand that it was for the defence of a younger student!” he bellowed, his knuckles turning white “You’re lucky that the parents of that young boy didn’t press charges!”

The woman gawked again, her grip tightening on Trent’s arm and it began to turn purple. “This is unbelievable” she snarled “My son gets a two week suspension and that girl gets nothing!”

Principal Jones noticed that if this carried on, he was certain that the office would end up in flames not too soon. He literally swore flames in that mad woman’s eyes. “Mrs Hunter, maybe its best you leave and cool off” Principal Jones replied coolly.

Mrs Hunter huffed, her grip easing up on Trent as she flipped her hair and began to walk out of the office, but not before turning to Rafael and sending him the most life threating glare that he had ever seen.  “If this happens again, you’ll be hearing from our lawyers” she hissed and stormed out.

Principal Jones had heard this, as he let out another “Mrs Hunter!” before she finally walked out, her heels thundering against the floor.

……..

Outside the office, a young girl hung her head low, making sure that no one could see her face.  She was about the same age of Trent, with long dark blonde hair, pale skin dusted with freckles, and deep sea-blue eyes that were glued to the ground. She wore a denim blue jacket over an indigo blouse that was sewn onto a long skater skirt of the same colour that reached down to her knees that was made out of a stretchy yet smooth material. And to finish off the look, she wore black leggings with black trainers. On her left bruised hand were specks of green and blue that had dried into her skin, she ran her other hand over them as she tried hard to forget that awful thing that she did today. She knew he deserved, but that didn’t get rid of that gut-wrenching feeling of guilt that built up inside her.

The door of the principal’s office flew open, before slamming with an ear-bleeding shut, and Juniper glued her eyes to the ground. She felt the harsh glare of Mrs Hunter’s eyes firing holes into the top of her head. If she had to think irrationally, she was definitely sure she would let her son kill Juniper in her sleep. As she heard the clicking of her heels leave the room, she felt something tumble into her hands. She then noticed the piece of crumpled paper in her hands, before she looked up, her eyes wide, noticing Trent menacing smirk as he left with his mother.  She opened up the small ball, reading the words that were scribbled onto it. Her eyes then began to sting as she crumpled it back up again.

She then heard Rafael speak a few final words to Principal Jones before gently closing then door and made his way over to Juniper. It wasn’t long before he discovered the piece of paper in her hands and crouched down to her level and gently placed a hand on hers. “What’s that?” he asked quietly, but loud enough to now make it a whisper. Juniper said nothing. “Juniper” his tone was more authoritative this time. Knowing that he needed an answer, she held out the crumpled paper and he carefully took it from her hands. What he read next made his heart shatter.

Orphan freak!

He stood up and walked back into the office as Juniper stared at him with the same wide-eyed expression. He exited it again and beckoned her to stand. “Come on” he said with a smile “Let’s go.” 

In the car, Juniper was silent the whole time, doing nothing put trace her hand down the car window as little rain drops stopped to fall down the glass. Rafael didn’t want to say anything in case a fight broke out between them and would both end up in an accident. Ever since Juniper joined the school in January, Trent and his goons proceeded to give her a terrible time. From putting gum in her hair, to tripping her up, spitting on her, threats of violence and telling everyone that she had a violent nature. While she was never violent and repeated the same behaviour to defend herself from Trent, Juniper did have the tendency to start a fight with Trent when he was hurting other students. Maybe it was because she would try to protect other children in her previous foster homes if they got hurt, but it still didn’t help with the rumours that the students in that school would spread.

Rafael pulled up into the driveway of their home and helped Juniper out of the car. As they made their way into the house and hung up their jackets, he suddenly heard small sniffles behind him and turned around to see Juniper in tears. “I’m sorry!” she croaked “I shouldn’t have hit him, I’m so sorry!”

“Hey it’s okay!” said Rafael, as he went over to embrace her. He led her to the couch where he let her cry more into his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, don’t worry” he soothed.

“He was hurting someone else!” she sobbed “I tried to take your advice, try to stay out of it but I couldn’t help it, he was threatening to hurt him!”

“I know” said Rafael “It sucks to have those kinds of people in school. And to be honest, the world would be so much better if they were like that. But they do and I’m glad you stood up for that boy.”

“No you’re not” Juniper sniffed.

“Yes I am” said Rafael “I’m might be might that you hit Trent but I am so glad you weren’t a bystander.”

Juniper sniffed again and rubbed her blood shot eyes as she stared up at him. “Really?”

“Yeah” said Rafael “When I was in high school, there were these boys who wouldn’t stop bothering this girl. Each day she came into school became worse and worse until one day, she didn’t show up. We kept waiting for her to but she never came. We even began to suspect the worst. The only people who were happy about it were the people who pestered her. I wish I could’ve done something but I didn’t. Which is why I’m so glad you stand up for people who can’t stand up for themselves. You’re amazing Juniper, never let them take that away from you.”

Juniper nodded and hugged Rafael one more time before asking “Does this mean you’re not sending me back into the system.”

Rafael’s heart dropped as he stared at the young girl in front of him with disbelief. “Why would you think that?” he asked back.

Juniper sighed sadly and began to explain. “This happened in one of my previous foster homes. I kept beating up kids who were hurting other people and no one told me what I was doing was wrong so I kept doing it. Until one day, out of nowhere, they began to scream at me about how I was some priceless orphan that they could send back into the system. And they did…they sent me back.” She rubbed her eyes again. “I’m sorry; you probably didn’t need to hear that…”

Rafael then engulfed her into a big bear hug and rubbed her back slowly. “I’m not sending you back into the system just because of some little fight” he soothed “You’re here and here to stay until you say otherwise.”

Juniper chuckled and gently pulled herself out of the hug. “Thanks Raf” she smiled, before grabbing her bag and heading up the stairs. “I just have to finish some paintings before I go to support group!”

“Okay” said Rafael, as he smiled “It’s fish for dinner, is that fine?”

“Yeah that’s fine!” Juniper replied at the top of the stairs before shutting her bedroom door.

Rafael smiled before heading into the kitchen. Before he stared cooking, he took a white half of a Ying and Yang necklace from his shirt. He didn’t have the other half, but he held onto the white half, half of the piece that the tormented girl from his youth gave him. It had his initials carved into the white wood with golden writing. A tear of his own then fell down his cheek as he gripped the counter. “I’m so sorry” he whispered, before gathering himself up and began to prepare dinner for himself and his foster daughter.

……..

After she finished her dinner, Juniper headed back upstairs to finish her paintings. She sat on her stool painting on her canvas, wearing a light blue paint stained blouse with rolled up sleeves and shorts that came down to her knees covered with specks of colour. After she finished, she quickly put somewhere in her room to dry and quickly changed back into her normal clothes. Although she quickly packed the blouse and shorts into her bag as she knew that she’d be heading out to the workshop after support group. Rafael’s friend Sam always let them come every Friday night after support group to let Juniper tinker while Rafael got the chance to sit down and have coffee or a cup of tea after a long week.

Juniper loved everything that had to do with creating. Whether if it was to paint over a scratch on a cup, or building something completely new, she would always take up the chance to do it. Besides, it was kind of stress relief for her and she was really close with Sam.

“Are you ready Juniper?!” Rafael called from downstairs.

“Yes, I’m coming!” Juniper hollered back. She scampered down the stairs and walked out the door to the car.

This car ride was much better than the drive home from school. This time, Juniper was just relaxing while listening to the music on her phone. It was times like this where Rafael was thrilled that he decided to foster her, she was just really sweet and made him feel relieved that she could be a real teenager while not needing to worry about getting hurt. A lot of people from work often asked if he was going to adopt her or not. Although he always said that he would think about, his mind always swayed to say yes to those questions. He really, really wanted to adopt her.

They pulled outside the church, Rafael pulled out the car keys while Juniper began packing up her phone before exiting the car and making their way into church. Once they were inside, they went down a small flight of stairs and opened the door of the basement. A woman in her mid-twenties, a brown bob and olive eyes turned her head to their direction and shot them a sweet smile. “Hi Juniper” her voice was quiet, as if she didn’t want to intimidate the kids who came here “So glad you could join us.”

“Hi Natalie” Juniper returned her smile and turned her gaze to the four other teenagers who sat in plastic chairs in a circle. There was Gigi, Megan, Ben and Michael. Rafael put a hand on Juniper’s shoulder and she looked up at him. “I’ll pick you up in an hour, okay?” he asked, although not needing an answer.

“Okay” Juniper smiled and went to grab a chair of her own. She began to feel nervous as soon as Rafael left, but tried to ignore it as she sat in the circle.

“I know we do this every time” Natalie began “But we’re going to start off with saying our names and saying why we’re here.”

“My name is Gigi and I’m here because people would make fun of me because I brag.” The first girl mumbled. Gigi has medium length red hair, green eyes and freckles that dusted over her ivory skinned nose. She wore a plain white shirt and old denim jeans and a green jacket mad out of some type of waterproof material even when it wasn’t raining.

“You don’t brag Gigi” Natalie informed her calmly “People were jealous of you doing so many sports that they tried to make you quit by bringing down your confidence.” Gigi looked at her blankly, not believing a word she was saying and crossed her arms as she sank in her chairs. Gigi was the local tomboy at the school who was talented in the sports department, especially at swimming. Trent began to grow jealous and played mind games with her, making her believe that her confidence was her bragging that she was better than everyone else. Soon she began failing at her sports due to the lack of confidence and was eventually kicked out of the team of her favourite sport.

“My name is Megan and um…” The second girl immediately shut her mouth, scared to keep speaking. Megan has coffee dark skin with brown eyes and large hair that fell into dozens of ringlets. She was very bony as if she hardly ate a thing. She wore a white long-sleeved shirt that was covered by a pink velvet overall dress that reached to her knees. Megan hated speaking about why she came here, as she hated being reminded of what happened to her. Trent and his goons would make terrible comments about her race and took advantage of her kindness by making her do his homework for him, threatening her with violence if she didn’t do it right.

“My name is Ben and I’m here because I was made fun of ‘being too smart’.” Ben had warm beige skin, black hair and grey eyes. He was the tallest out of all of them and sat, stood and even slouched with a straight posture. As if it would kill him if he ever slouched. He wore a dark blue blouse tucked into the waist of his denim jeans, not a single crinkle in sight.  Ben was one of the smartest boys in school and even began tutoring students, even Megan – he even had a bit of a crush on her at the time - they were like two big soft teddy bears when they were near one another. Unfortunately, Trent ‘warned’ him about how this was taking away his masculinity and punished him by spreading rumours about how he only did it for the money and lied about terrible comments that Ben never truly said. Worst of all, he broke Megan’s heart and the two never spoke since.

“My name is Michael and I’m here because people wouldn’t address me with the correct pronouns.” Michael had honey coloured skin, warm brown eyes and black hair that curled at the top. He wore a red checked blouse with two buttons open at the top to reveal a white shirt and black jeans. Ever since he started high school, he hid the fact that he was female at birth. But in his mind, he had always been a boy. Eventually, word got out to Trent and he began to mis-gender and turn everyone against Michael.  That was how Juniper gave Trent his first nosebleed.

Every head turned to Juniper, who suddenly jumped as she remembered why everyone else was there in the first place. “My name is Juniper and I’m here because Trent would mock me because I’m an orphan.” She fiddled with her fingers.

“Thank you Juniper” Natalie smiled and continued.

Halfway through, Juniper continued to become more nervous. Was it the guilt of punching Trent earlier, was it coming back to eat her up? Suddenly she couldn’t keep it in any longer and cried “I punched him!”

All four teens, excluding Juniper, and Natalie turned their heads into her direction. They all had a confused looks mixed with concern on their faces, with Natalie’s having more concern. “What do you mean Juniper?” she asked, her voice like silk.

Great she thought they all think you’re crazy, well done Juniper, you’re now making your rumours become real. “I-I punched Trent again today” she stammered nervously “He was threating to beat up another kid and my instincts took over.”

Juniper opened and closed her fists. Her left one felt difficult to move. “I don’t know why I’m still like this” said Juniper “I don’t feel bothered when he insults me, but when he does it to someone else I just become so…mad.”

Natalie’s lips formed a straight line, before smiling with sad eyes. “It’s okay to defend people who can’t defend themselves” she said “But sometimes, we have to do it in a way that doesn’t affect us or the people we want to protect. And the reason you feel angry towards Trent for hurting others and not you is because you care. And that’s what makes people good. You’re okay Juniper. You’re a good person.”

Juniper returned the smile with her own sad one, taking a deep breath and leaning softly into her chair as Natalie continued with the session.

……..   

As soon as support group ended, Juniper ran out and rushed into the car, excitement bubbling inside her. “Hurry up Raf!” she called to her foster father.

Rafael chuckled and shook his head as he sat into the driver’s seat and started the car. “So I’m guessing therapy was alright?” he asked.

“It was great!” Juniper beamed.

Thank god! Rafael thought to himself. When he first told Juniper that she had been signed up for support group, she had a panic attack thinking that Rafael thought something was wrong with her. All was resolved after her first night and she came out with a fresh perspective, it was quite clear that she had never been to support group before and got the attention that she not only deserved, but definitely needed. 

After a small drive, they finally arrived at Sam’s workshop, where he greeted the teen with open arms. Apart from the teasing from school, if you told the Juniper a few months ago that she would feel at home with Rafael and the people he knew, she would tell you to go away and to stop playing games with her. But now, she was close to trusting the people that Rafael called his family and would feel obliged to do the same herself. Then she would tell herself that she was thinking ahead and had to slow down for reality to catch up with her.

Sam ran a local store that sold a bunch of animal essentials; including horse gear like saddles, reins and all that other stuff. During his spare time however, he would help Juniper with her creative mind and let her help him with making the saddles and other gadgets that she would come up with. He had short light brown hair, ivory skin and green orbs for eyes. He wore a white shirt and old jeans and trainers whenever he and Juniper would build something together. He even gave Juniper a spare key to the workshop if she wanted to work on something without him.

He sat with her at the wooden bench in his workshop while Rafael went into his built-on kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. He trusted his best friend with the young girl so he felt safe while roaming around his cupboards. However one of the problems with Sam’s house was “Ow!” Rafael cried out and pouted when he saw the tiny fleck of wood sticking out of his finger. “Stupid splinters.”

“Sorry Raf!” Sam called from the workshop while Juniper sketched out another gadget she wanted to make one day.

“What about a mug that can heat up on its own?” Juniper pondered out loud to Sam, tapping the rubber end of her pencil against her cheek as she looked up to the ceiling “Y’know, in case your drink gets cold and you could heat it back up and vice versa?”

“What about an invention that can remove splinter-OW!” Rafael called from the kitchen as he tried to prod the splinter out with a needle on the counter – Sam often got splinters of his own in his kitchen.

“Seriously though” said Juniper “You’re going to need to get your kitchen fixed up.”

“I know” Sam sighed “But I keep coming up with ideas to work with you my little protégé!” He teased her and ruffled her hair.

“Hey!” Juniper exclaimed with a grin “I’m not that short! I’m average height! It’s cause I keep hanging out with you two tall dorks.”

“Agree to disagree” said Rafael, who had successfully taken the splinter out and relaxed into a chair at the other side of the workshop “You are rather short.”

Juniper mumbled a groan “At least I can kick Trent’s butt any time I want.”

“You shouldn’t” said Rafael in a warning tone.

“I know I shouldn’t” said Juniper, a grin creeping onto her face “I’m just saying I could.”

Rafael shrugged in agreement and sipped his tea. An idea then suddenly came to mind and he spoke up “Hey Juniper?” the girl turned round to face him “I’m going up to a nature reserve tomorrow for a girl scouts camp to perform a lobotomy on a frog and you would like to come and get some inspiration for your art?”

“Will we be staying in a cabin for a full weekend?” she asked.

“Yeah” Rafael replied.

“That depends” she said coolly, until her face shone and a smile spread across her face “Will Naomi be there too?”

Rafael chuckled. Out of all the people that Rafael introduced her to; somehow Naomi was Juniper’s favourite. The woman had blonde hair that spilled over her shoulder, deep brown eyes that you could get lost in, baby pink lips and beautiful smooth Snow White skin. She wore no make-up but everyone who worked with her thought she was beautiful, and Rafael had to agree. “Yes, she will be there” he smiled.

Juniper fist pumped, nearly falling off the bench if it wasn’t for Sam catching her and she continued with her drawing.

……..

“Bye Sam!” she called before climbing into the car. The car ride was very quiet, but they were both used to that now.

Once they arrived home, Juniper packed her bags for the nature reserve and started getting ready for bed. This included a small hot shower, brushing her teeth and finally putting her long hair in a braid before putting on her pyjamas and hopping into bed. As she stared up at the moonlit ceiling, she eyes started to droop and she fell asleep with a smile on her face. Who knew a bad start to the day would lead to a peaceful night? 

……..

At the crack of dawn, Juniper was already awake and in the shower, scrubbing herself clean and brushing her teeth. She calmed down a bit while she was getting dressed into her normal clothes and remained that way while making breakfast. She watched Rafael gawk at her speed before sitting down and eating with her too.

She managed to remain patient while Rafael was getting ready, but grabbed him by the hand the minute he came downstairs with his suitcase and were already in the vehicle and heading down the road.

When they arrived, Juniper was finally calm and her natural smile remained on her face as calmness settled into her body. As they were unloading the car, they perked up when a familiar blonde was walking towards them. “Hang on” she smiled with a confused expression “Are those my two favourite people?”

“Naomi!” Juniper grinned back as Naomi walked over to her and gave her a hug “It’s so good to see you.”

“You too” said Naomi, pulling away from the hug before frowning “Are people still calling you short?”

Juniper pouted and nodded with an “Mmhmm” as Naomi giggled sweetly, like a soft song and her eyes twinkled in the sunlight.

Rafael could only look on at the two girls with bliss. Why did Naomi have to be so damn cute all the time? Was she really trying to kill him with cuteness? His thoughts were interrupted when Naomi went up to hug him. She was so frail in his arms. When she was standing on her own, she stood tall and confident, but whenever she hugged him she always gave off the impression of being fragile and breakable. Yet every day, she was always prepared to dig around the insides of a new person in surgery. “How are you doing Raf?” she asked during their hug.

“Good” he replied “You?”

“Eh, you know” she answered; he could feel her gesturing with her hands “Been there done that. Kind of been bored for the last few days but hey what can you expect from a boring person?”

“Oh you are anything but boring” he replied, not meaning to smell the faint aroma of coconut from her hair.

Juniper stood there awkwardly, but not wanting them to break on the ongoing hug. That went away a minute later and it just became only awkward for her just standing there doing nothing. She let out a cough and the two broke apart, fumbling with their words.

“S-sorry, I um…Yeah I’m just going to head back to my cabin for the evening” she stammered.

“Y-yeah” Rafael shyly agreed, rubbing the back of his head.

“Don’t want to appear like a zombie in front of the kids tomorrow!” she laughed nervously.

Rafael laughed back too in the same manner before Naomi walked away after waving goodbye. “Sorry” Juniper mumbled, not meaning for it to become more awkward. She was just trying to make them aware…maybe not aware enough. “Are you going to tell her you like her or not?” she grinned.

“What?” Rafael chuckled “Naomi’s just a really good friend.”

Oh my god Juniper thought He’s obliviously stubborn isn’t he?

“Come on” said Rafael “The car isn’t going to unload itself!”

Lord help me with these blind idiots she grumbled internally one more time before helping Rafael with the luggage.

……..

The next morning, Juniper was loaded with her drawing pad, her pencils and rubbers, her bag which contained her phone, and a camera provided by Rafael. Although when she woke up, she was mildly nervous going out into the forest on her own due to the fact of the untamed animals out there. But Rafael reassured her by saying that he had asked a ranger and was explained to him that the animals were moved to another forest – apart from birds – for guests who wanted to roam the woodland scenery.    

As soon as those fears were put to rest, she bided Rafael goodbye and ventured off into the forest.

While she was away, Rafael had a good time of his own with Naomi. Who couldn’t help but laugh giddily whenever the children cooed while they performed their lobotomy. Each doctor that was there was given a group of children; there were four groups in total, so it would be easier to view the lobotomy.

Although he was keeping an eye on his work, Rafael couldn’t help but notice the looks that the male grown-ups would give Naomi. He saw her uncomfortable shudders whenever one of the men stared down intensely at her. However, he felt a nerve twitch when he saw one of them lick his bottom lip. That simply crossed the line for him. “You doing okay there Naomi?” he asked, and all the males pulled away their gazes.

“I’m fine” she smiled, but her eyes gave him a sad yet thankful look before continuing her work.

He couldn’t help for felt terrible for her. At work in the hospital, the other members of male staff would not stop pestering her to agree for a night out. Although she would give them their just desserts, it did not stop her from maintaining a hurt look throughout the day. He wanted to do more but she always told him that she could handle it. But how much longer could she take? That was the question he always asked himself. 

……..

As Juniper continued on the path, she couldn’t help but always stop to take a deep breath. It was just so beautiful out here. The ambience of birds tweeting set the atmosphere just perfectly. She raised the camera up towards the canopy of the trees, with the bright sun glistening through and took a picture. The picture slid out of the bottom of the camera, before Juniper gently took it out and waved it to dry before putting it in her notepad.

That was when she heard a twig break. She froze on spot and her stomach twisted and pulled into knots. Gripping her camera tightly, she whipped round and nearly screamed when she saw none other than…“Trent?” she breathed, although the very thing was starting to become quite hard to do.

The boy’s lips twisted into a smirk as he leaned against the tree. “That’s me.”

All Juniper wanted to do was scream. She wanted to do nothing more than screech until her throat stung and there were people were there to help her out. But help her out with what? If she did that, she would be seen as overreacting and getting this wretched boy into trouble for no reason. “W-wh-why” why was she finding it hard to talk? And why did she suddenly start sweating? It wasn’t that hot. “Why are you here?”

“My mother took me up here” he replied “To get away from the stress of school.”

 Stress? HE’S STRESSED?! Why this ignorant little!-

“You know what that’s like” he sneered “Right orphan?”

It took all her willpower to grip her jaw tight shut than not to growl and make a fool out of herself. “Of course” she replied dryly “Whatever floats your boat.”

“You wouldn’t mind me being here” he grinned, a bit of green showing between his gums “Right orphan?”

Juniper inhaled sharply “Of course not” she said through gritted teeth. So much for making a fool out of herself. She turned round and resumed to taking pictures, trying to get rid of the fear that settled in the pit of her stomach.

What she didn’t hear was Trent removing himself from the tree, walking over to her until he stood behind her silent air flaring from his nostrils. Then with brute strength, he grabbed a hold of her wrist, making her drop everything and forced her to face him. “How dare you for doing that to me you snake” he hissed at her “Making me look like a fool by getting taken out by a stupid orphan freak!”

She tried to punch him with her other fist but he grabbed it before it collided with his skin and pushed it down. “Do you want to know what happens to people who think they can take me out?” he growled, his nails digging deeply into her skin.

“Trent stop you’re hurting me!” she yelled.

“Oh you stupid orphan” he chuckled darkly, before all emotion drained from his face “What I do to those people is much worse than having nails being dug into wrists.”

In a moment of panic, she used his knee to kick him in his sensitive area and spat right in his face before taking off. She ran on the path for a little while, before tripping and falling down a slope into a part of the forest where she wasn’t supposed to go. But she had no choice as she knew that Trent would be hot on her heels.

Fearing for the worst, she stood up and ran. She didn’t know where she was going and she didn’t care, she just had to find a place to hide or keep running until either she or Trent are forced to stop. She tried to think of a plan, maybe a trap that could fool her attacker. But she was too panicked and too busy thinking of the worst that it clouded her mind. She could feel her heart racing, her lungs burning, the blood thundering in her ears and her ankles were starting to ache. She felt like she was going to give out any minute.

A growl. That’s what made her stop in her tracks. This wasn’t a growl of a wolf or any other wild animals. No. This growl was unearthly, unnatural, and not normal in the slightest.

A great force hit her on the side of the head during her distraction and she fell to the ground. She touched where she was hit and saw the blood on her fingers. A heavy weight kept her hands and legs trapped as she desperately fought for freedom, but was given a slap to the face for those attempts. Trent then bent down until they were nose to nose and she held her breath. She growled and kept wriggling, not caring about the stinging on the right side of her cheek. The scrape of a knife was heard and her eyes widened with fear as Trent’s lips brushed her ear. “This is what happens when you try to take me out” he whispered, before giving her a deafening screech with the word “Understood!”

A cloud of black invaded her vision and the weight was taken off her. She then sat up as quick as she could, and what she saw made her heart skip a beat. In front of her, a creature had Trent pinned to the ground while he let out screams of fear to be let go. The creature was covered with black yet shiny scales, had large wings that resembled those of a bat, two cat-like ears with two smaller nubs as thin as twigs on the insides of its ears and one on each side if its head. She also could make out the blue from the corners of its eyes. Wasting no time, she picked herself from the ground and began to run again.

She continued to run with no idea where to go, until she heard an earth shattering roar that made her trip over a rock, skidding her leg against the rough surface before tumbling down another slope and down through some kind of rock tunnel until she made the edge of a puddle of water. She looked up and so no puddle, but a large pond inside some kind of large, circular ravine enclosed with rock walls.

She heard the roar again and tried to get up, only to be stopped by a sharp pain that shot through her leg. She let out a yell and rolled up her legging, only to be met with a bleeding scar. Hearing the roar again, she limped over to a large rock and hid behind it. This was a bad and dumb idea, but it was the best one she had. She heard large footsteps enter the area and warbles of an unknown animal. It was definitely the one she saw earlier. She could hear the footsteps increase in sound and felt the soft thuds coming towards her. This is it; this is where Rafael, Naomi and all those innocent girl scouts would find her dead body. She could hear sniffing from behind the rock; no doubt it was coming from the creature.

But in a moment of blind curiosity, she could feel her head turning slightly. The creature was only sniffing her; it wasn’t blasting her to pieces. What was she thinking, wanting to face the creature that probably blew Trent to smithereens and would no doubt do the same to her! But unfortunately, curiosity killed the cat and she turned round slowly. She then met face to face with the creature as it stared at her with large blue eyes and large pupils that almost dilated to the size of moons.

Juniper let out a gasp and fell onto her backside, trying breathing in and out slowly, but to no avail.  The creature then made its way towards her, its pupils slitting slightly as it stared at the girl with curiosity, its hot breath puffing in her face. Juniper squeezed her eyes shut and began to prepare herself for a quick yet painless death. But instead of what she expected, she found the creature was sniffing her face. She opened her eyes and saw the creature making its way up to sniff her hair. Why would it wait to kill her to stop and smell her hair? Maybe it was because of the shampoo and conditioner she used, she could always smell a faint aroma of caramel and vanilla floating around her head. She would also be lying is she didn’t say that, with its big blue eyes, the creature looked really adorable, yet so was lion but you don’t see anyone stopping to pet it.

Now that she had a closer look of the creature, she knew now she couldn’t keep calling it ‘the creature’. Due to its size and resemblance, Juniper had no trouble knowing that what stood in front of her…was a dragon.

The dragon then stopped sniffing her hair when it saw the fresh wound on Juniper’s leg and let out a small whine. It then made its way over to the edge of the pond before looking back at Juniper. Juniper raised an eyebrow in confusion. What was the dragon up to? The dragon then motioned its head towards the pond as a low grumble gargled in its throat. That’s when Juniper caught on; the dragon wanted her to wash her wound in the pond water. With great strength, she picked herself up and limped towards the pond as the dragon eyed her carefully. She sat herself back down again and scooped up handfuls of water and washed the blood of her leg. She didn’t want to get the pond water dirty in case it was the only place where the dragon could stay hydrated.

After fully washing the blood of, she quickly took her denim jacket off and pressed it against the wound. The dragon then motioned its head again as if to lift the jacket from her leg.  She didn’t know if it was the smart choice to take advice from a dragon, but the wound did sting…a lot.  She carefully removed her jacket and the dragon licked over her leg. Juniper gasped in surprise and recoiled, tumbling onto her back. The dragon warbled in surprise and made its way over to her. Juniper started to prepare herself again for death, until she felt the stinging slowly fade away. She sat up again and noticed the wound had stopped bleeding. The saliva must’ve had something to do with it if the pain stopped so suddenly. With a nod, she let the dragon continue.

After a few revolting licks on her leg, the dragon stopped and stared at her again. Juniper took her jacket and fastened it around her leg, tying it tight so it wouldn’t fall off. The dragon made some sort of happy noise without moving its lips and walked off, not too far from Juniper, and blew some fire onto the ground. It stomped on it for a little bit and laid down. Juniper was about to stand up to leave, until the fear of Trent settled back into her system. If she left now, there was a good chance that he might still be looking for her. That is if the dragon didn’t eat him. Wait a minute, if the dragon ate Trent alive, then why did it waste its timing helping her with her wound rather than gobbling her up right this second?

It didn’t make sense.

But Juniper didn’t want to question it any further and made what was probably the most stupid and reckless decision that she has ever made in her entire life…she was going to stay with the dragon for a while. She was about to reach for her sketchpad and camera when she realised that she had left them in the woods! Damn it! She couldn’t go back though, just in case Trent was still there. Biting her lip in a nervous state, she curled up onto the ground and closed her eyes. Maybe a nap would help clear her mind. She let out a breath and dozed up. 

……..

A little while later, she woke up and stretched her limbs. She looked over to look at the dragon…only for the scaly beast to be gone. Had she just dreamt the whole thing? She couldn’t have, her jacket was still there as well as the smell of dragon spit. Where could it have gone? She went into her bag and dug out her phone, only to be met with an armada of texts from both Naomi and Rafael.

 Where are you?!

 Are you okay?!

 Trent just appeared from the woods, screaming that you were both attacked by a dragon!

 Juniper please text me back!

Juniper gulped, thinking of the conversation she would have with the two adults. Hi Naomi, Hi Raf! Sorry I couldn’t text you back because Trent tried to attack me and a huge dragon attacked him back and helped me with a huge scar on my leg with magical spit!

She grumbled and stood up and walked to the exit of the ravine, noticing that the sharp pain on her leg had now fully disappeared. Her breath caught in her throat as she climbed out. She noticed that the pale yellow from the bright sun had faded into an orange colour with a hint of pink sky. How long was she asleep for? No wonder Naomi and Rafael were bombarding her with texts!

After finding the path again, making sure Trent was truly gone, picking up her stuff – including a broken camera – she found the exit of the forest. The police were there, as well as an ambulance, Trent with his mother squeezing him and Rafael and Naomi tightening their grips on each other’s hands. Rafael looked up and let out a cry of relief as he ran up to Juniper and gave her a bone-crushing hug. “Where have you been?” he cried “There was a search party in the forest and they said they couldn’t find you?!”

“I’m so sorry Raf!” Juniper cried back “I got lost and I hurt my leg!”

Naomi ran up and joined the hug, Juniper could feel her shaking, or was that her? “Trent says that you were attacked in the woods by a dragon!” Naomi exclaimed “Is that true?”

“Well not really attacked” said a police officer as he walked up to him “Doctor’s said that he wasn’t injured but he did look like he was in shock.”

What could Juniper say? The dragon certainly didn’t hurt Trent, and he had no injuries. Plus the dragon did help her. Did the dragon really just scare Trent in order to get him to leave Juniper alone? Juniper gulped, it was now or never.

“There was no dragon” she answered “But Trent did try to attack me in the woods with a pocket knife, he had me pinned down and I couldn’t move. Luckily I fought him off and found refuge. Unfortunately it was in a different part in the woods.”

The officer eyed her leg with the bloody jacket and held up a plastic bag containing the pocket knife. “Is this it?” he asked. Juniper nodded.

“My son would do no such thing!” Trent’s mother screeched.

“Ma’am this knife has your son’s fingerprints on it” the police officer explained “And the girl came back from the woods with an injury.”

“Actually I tripped but Trent still attacked me” Juniper mumbled. It wasn’t a complete lie but she didn’t want to fully push Trent under the bus.

“See!” His mother screamed “You have no proof!”

“Ma’am” said the officer “The knife is all we need to know that your son attacked this girl and was making up the dragon story. We’re going to need a few questions with you young man.”

“This is outrageous; my son is a good kid!” She yelled as the officer led him away “My lawyers will hear about this, did you hear me?!”

Juniper sighed, though she didn’t know why. Was it relief, fear or just stress? She didn’t know. Naomi led her over to the ambulance and sat her down before removing her jacket. There, on her leg, was the scar all fully healed.

“Woah” Naomi breathed “You got this today?”

“Weird” said Rafael, walking up to the girls “Her leg wasn’t injured yesterday, how did it heal so fast?”

Juniper bit her lip and her stomach flipped and danced around. She gave them a confused shrug while Naomi checked her over and spotted the dried cut on her head from where Trent hit her. Rafael told her that they would be going home that night, saying that her own bed would help her with what happened today. Although Juniper nodded in true agreement, a little part of her curiosity wanted to stay and search for the scaly beast that slept in the unsearched part of the woods.

Feel free to leave critisism, I’m aware that this is terrible.

[bamby0304]

Made for You- Ch.21

Bamby’s Masterlist Made for You Masterlist

Summary: Dean was yours. You were his. At least that’s what it felt like when you both presented. But then John sent you away, at the ripe age of fifteen. ‘For your own safety,’ that’s what he said. You go about your life, believing what John did was for the best… but all that changes when a certain bloody and wounded Alpha is dropped on your dining room table.

Series Taglist is Closed

Warnings: Angst. Explicit language. Mentions of death, violence and assault. They are together now, I don’t think we need to witness anymore actual violence.

Bamby

As you came down the stairs your eyes met Dean’s. You saw the moment where his gaze flickered down to the mark on your neck. He did that a lot, looking at where he’d marked you. A look of pride and love filled his gaze for the briefest of moments before he looked up, eyes meeting yours.

While the love was still there, it was mixed with anxiety and concern. Today was the day, and he was clearly very worried for and about you.

“You don’t have to do this,” he told you for the umpteenth time.

Sighing, you walked up to where he stood by the dining table, waiting for you. “See this?” You gestured to a stain on the wood. A stain you’d scrubbed at for days and days before you’d given up on it. “That is your blood. Three and a half months ago, you were brought into my home, on the brink of death, and dropped onto my table. I saved your life. A week ago, you saved mine. There are going to be times like that, Dean. Times where our lives need saving. But there are also going to be times when we won’t need saving, we just need each other.”

“You have me,” he assured you. “You have nothing to prove.”

Lips lifting in the lightest of smiles, you looked up at him. You took in his green eyes, at the faint littering of freckles, down to his lips. Reaching up onto your toes, you pressed a kiss to those lips, feeling him chase you as you pulled away.

“Trust me. I can handle this,” you promised, looking into his green eyes once more.

A knock on the door had you both pause for a moment before Dean turned and moved to let the person in.

Sam stepped inside, looking from his brother to you before doing a double take as his eyes settled on Dean’s neck. “Dude…”

Dean chuckled lightly, lifting a hand to the scar on his neck. “Uh, yeah…”

“Omegas can mark their Alphas, too,” you noted defensively.

Eyes wide, Sam turned to you. “No, that’s not what I meant. I just… I mean… I didn’t realise, you know…” He gestured to your neck. “Didn’t think you two would have done that yet, let alone…” He nodded his head towards his brother’s mark. “But it’s good. I’m happy for you both.” A wide smile spread across his face.

Relaxing under his smile, you returned it with your own. “So, we ready?”

Sam’s face fell. “Uh… you sure about this?”

Might’ve forgot to mention your marks, but of course Dean told his brother about where you were headed. He no doubt shared his concerns.

“Yes,” you answered, leaving no room for arguments. “Now, get in the car or stay behind. I don’t need either of you there when I do it.”

“Bullshit.” Dean grabbed his jacket from the hook by the door. “I’m not letting that asshole hurt you again.”

You sighed, watching him, your heart breaking at the hurt in his eyes. The regret. He hated that he hadn’t been there for you that night. “He can’t hurt me, De,” you assured me. “Not anymore.”

Still, that did nothing to ease Dean’s mind. “Memories hurt, Y/N. If you’re gonna do this, I’m gonna be right there by your side.” Not waiting for a response, he turned on his heels and walked out the door, heading for his waiting Baby, knowing you and Sam weren’t too far behind.

Turning to you, Sam gave a smaller, sadder smile than the one before. “I really am happy for you guys. Just wish we didn’t have this to deal with.”

“I know, Sammy,” you sighed, heading for the door as well. “I know.”

~~

You sat in the police station’s interrogation room. Dean had been told to wait outside. It had taken all of two seconds for everyone to realise you two were now a mated couple. Just like that, no one stopped him from taking the seat by your side at the table in the intimidating room.

Officer Richards, an old and balding man who had a pot belly and mustard stains on his shirt, sat in front of you. It wasn’t the first time you’d met him, he frequented the local events you volunteered at. He usually wore a bright smile, always willing to give a helping hand. He was a kind man. That was evident by the concerned crinkles and sad glimmer in his eyes.

Sighing, he looked down at the closed file in front of him before his gaze lifted to meet yours. “We have his truck. We know what happened.”

Benefits of everyone having enhanced senses as Alphas, Betas, or even Omegas, is the fact they could smell exceptionally well. That meant the moment they had Trent’s truck they would have been able to smell everything. That was also a bad thing, in a way, because that meant they knew what had happened to you. Not exactly, but they knew enough.

“The smell of your heat… and him… we know.”

Nodding, your eyes fell to your lap as you fiddled with a loose string hanging from the hem of your khaki jacket.

Dean, sensing your anxieties, reached over to set his hand in your lap. Without hesitation, you grabbed his hand, fingers intertwining. Such a simple act, and yet you were already feeling so much better.

“We could also sense Dan Whyte and Hayden Phillips. Witnesses say they left during the time you were seen being guided away by Trent Smitt and when Mr Whyte and Mr Phillips were seen taking you to one of their cars before leaving. No one else was around. Evidence suggests-”

“Get to the questioning, officer,” you told him, voice low. The confidence you’d had before leaving the cabin had well and truly gone.

“Which one attacked Trent, Y/N.”

Slowly, you lifted your gaze from your lap until your eyes locked onto his. “He attacked me. Does the rest really matter?”

“Trent was murdered. It doesn’t matter what he did. He did not deserve that,” Officer Richards argued.

Dean’s grip on your hand tightened. In the corner of your eye, you could see his jaw tick. It was taking everything in him not to snap… luckily, you snapped instead.

“I didn’t deserve to be attacked. But I was. And I’m going to have to live with that. He’s lucky he’s dead. He doesn’t have to worry about the consequences of his actions. Whatever happened, and whoever did it, they had every right. An Omega in heat was being attacked. She- I could not defend myself. If I could this would be called self-defence.”

Officer Richards was doing a very good job at being patient with you. “But it’s not self-defence. Whoever attacked him wasn’t the victim.”

“No, you’re right, I was. And I was too far into my heat, too out of my mind in shock to know what was happening around me. All I know is Dan and Hayden found us, they pulled Trent out of the car. They did not hurt him. Dan held him back while Hayden helped me out, and then we left.”

“Are you trying to tell me Trent just let you go after he’d scented you-”

A growl rumbled from Dean.

You squeezed his hand, offering a gentle and reassuring smile. It took a moment but he calmed, just enough for you to turn back to the officer and continue. “What I’m trying to tell you is he was up against two Alphas, more if he tried to make a scene. He might have been stupid to try and force me, but he didn’t have a death wish. Sucks that didn’t work out in the end.”

~~

Sam held the door open for you and Dean as the three of you entered the bar. It was barely lunch, the place was dead, save for two people, one behind the bar, one sitting on a stool in front of it. Hayden and Dan.

Turning in his seat, Hayden offered you a smile as you, Dean and Sam headed their way. “How’d it go?”

“I need a drink,” Dean muttered as he sat in the spot next to Hayden.

Without missing a beat, Dan grabbed some glasses and a bottle of whiskey, pouring you a drink each. “So, do I have to worry about how I’m gonna look in orange?” he asked, cracking a light grin as he peaked at you from the corner of his eyes.

You took a seat on Dean’s other side, Sam sitting on the chair next to yours. Grabbing your drink, you downed it in one go before answering the question, “I gave them nothing, but that doesn’t mean you’re in the clear.”

The news of Trent’s death should have given you a sense of relief… instead it had offered more complications and heartbreak. With him dying due to his injuries, his death was classified as a murder. If it hadn’t been for the overwhelming smell of your heat and the fact the rain had washed a lot of everything else away, Dan would have been busted long before Trent had died. But the cops were having a hard time getting all the evidence they might need to make a strong case.

Well… at least they were putting up a front, pretending to look into it.

Sitting in that interrogation room, you’d felt something. Officer Richards might have been asking you all the required questions, he might have been pressing a little hard, but you could sense something was off.

In this town, you were loved. You gave and gave and gave, everyone knew you, everyone loved you, everyone would do whatever it took to protect you. They’d proved that before.

The last time you’d been cornered by an Alpha you hadn’t had your heat, he’d just been a dick. One hand on you, two seconds later, he had three broken bones. Within a week he’d been discharged from the hospital, charged with assault, and run out of town.

No one even blinked an eye at you defending yourself. Even though the guy’s intentions had been clear, he hadn’t actually attacked you. He hadn’t done anything that warranted your response- at least that’s what a judge would say. Still, no one in town questioned your motives or actions.

If evidence piled up against Dan and the cops had no choice but to charge him, you had no doubt he’d be let off easier than had he simply beaten Trent up in some stupid Alpha fight. Throw you, your heat and the relationships you had with all the men involved… if Dan did get locked up it wouldn’t be for more than a year.

“You got a backup plan for this place if things go bad?” you asked him as he poured you another drink.

He shrugged. “Angie’s a good worker, she could run the joint.”

“She’s also a mother,” you countered. “If you need someone to take care of the place, I’ll do it.”

Four set of eyes turned to you.

“Seriously?” Dan asked as the others stayed silent. His eyes flickered to your Alpha. “What about…?”

You and Dean shared a brief but knowing look. The two of you had talked about your future. While you didn’t have a step-by-step five-year plan, you had some kind of an idea of what you were doing next.

“Dean’s sticking around,” you explained.

He nodded, going on from where you’d finished, “Sammy and me don’t really have a home. I’m not taking Y/N away from this place or the people here. She’s happy. And I know she’s safe. So, we’re all gonna stay here.”

When you looked to Sam he smiled at you. You might not have talked to him, but you knew Dean would have shared a few words with his brother. You also knew Sam would have no problem sticking around. You were all family, after all, and the cabin was your home. Now it was theirs, too.

“We’re gonna keep working,” you noted, turning back to Hayden and Dan- knowing Hayden still had no idea what your job was. “But when we’re not working, we’ll be around town. And if things go bad for you,” your eyes settled on Dan, “I have no problem helping out.” You smiled up at him.

He hesitated a moment, looking from you to the two Alphas on either side of you, but eventually he nodded. “Okay, yeah.” His lips turned into a grateful and relaxed smile. “Thanks.”

“Least we can do.” Dean gave Hayden and Dan a knowing look. “I owe you guys big time.”

No one needed to explain the meaning behind his words. No one dared tell him he owed them nothing. The five of you simply fell silent once more, Dan pouring more drinks. Soon enough the conversation was changed, a lighter mood settling in the room. You all laughed, and smiled, and had a nice time. A bubbling feeling rested in your chest as you looked to your friends before your eyes locked onto your Alpha.

You knew, in that moment, things were going to work out.

Bamby

[nochiquinn]

campaign 2 episode 18: birthday backstory

I have internet back! I'm not camping in an Arby's to watch.

I enjoy that the fanart designs are starting to kind of coalesce into a sort of generally accepted fanon. Except for Molly's coat, everyone is still trying their damnedest to avoid drawing it

oh yay the shinra tee's back

ashley's HAIR 

FUNBUNS

as sam has a small panic attack

"I don't know how I feel about this" yes you do

"I get enough of this in real life"

that's right, caleb, give him a bald spot, attack him with shame

WELP bye molly

birthday 20

w e l p 

that's right, beau, attack him with shame

look, it was a good try

YEEEEEEEEE CALEB ANA MAIN

[curly noise]

NOTT THE BRAVE

nott no don't get cocky

discord: is nott final pam

I enjoy that he sounds like a small-town mayor

yasha: the ONE TIME I make a joke...

beau

yanks yasha out of this conversation with a big hook

SuperCock

WEAKNESS DISCOVERED: cats

is that like touching someone's daemon or

"the green is something else" travis

sea anemone and destroy it

did sam just hit "one day more" or did my brain automatically fill it in

"it's not really that much of a secret"

"they forced history down my throat" taliesin: [face]

discord: beau you can't just ask people why they're afraid of fire!

"I'm giving Yasha a piggyback ride" WHERE ARE THE ARTISTS

"she's an instagram model"

there's going to be zero money in that box

discord: make matt rp the prostitutes

hire hookers you cowards

the saga of sam trying to figure out who ashley's character is attracted to continues

"cobalt soul scholastic fair" entire group: GASPS LOUDLY

"we need those for adults" right

discord is suggesting that caleb might go the anders DA2 route and I am preemptively enraged

you hunt out that bright side jester

laura stop doing lamaze breathing you're making me nervous

molly just orders the buffet

"don't be crass"

"college hallway sit"

"taliesin feels your pain"

marisha's laugh

"do you have people in there with food"

what was that laugh, I loved it

laura's FACE

laura is plotting murder

well that's a fucking wham line

the way his face twists when he says "trent"

give caleb a fucking hug 2k18

caleb is still in that really shitty stage of abuse/trauma recovery where you still feel responsible for everything even though you were being twisted

"I'm going to keep telling you that until you believe me"

"foof" that's an understatement

"I thought about this"

molly as eliot from magicians

wow I just got a really strong feeling of, like. dishonored. or some other stealthy theify game. 

I had to zone out (on purpose this time) for like five minutes just to deal with all of that, all I heard was something about ten thousand gold and possibly murdering the gentleman

LIGHT HEARTED ANTICS comparatively

okay I lied I've checked out of literally everything since that scene. there were books.

"we're staying together?" "I thought that was a given!" <3

"we make such good roommates" "I don't" molly

“level five, LEVEL FIVE”

"vax survived so much" citation needed

discord:  vax survived everything he didn't need to, but not the things he did

[harleywords]

The Thrill of Change

Genre - Comedy

Word count: 2468

Synopsis: A businessman becomes addicted to the thrill of making absurd changes to his mundane office life. Hijinks ensue.

Today I did things a little different. I figured I’d be better for it, but it only made things worse. No, not worse… for something to get worse it has to be bad to begin with, and it wasn’t. Bad, I mean. But things change, people change; at least that’s what I’ve heard. People say that all the time, in fact they’ve said it so much throughout history that people almost exclusively use it ironically now. Anyway, I thought I’d give it a try-- that was my first mistake. Actually it was my only mistake, but there were a whole lot of smaller mistakes that fall under that main big one; changing myself. And I dragged my colleagues down with me.

Now, I’m a civilized man. I wear my tie around my neck just like anyone else; or at least, I have done so since that one incident in which someone finally came forward and told me I had been doing it wrong all these years. I appreciate that. If ever I’m doing something incorrectly, I want the right method to be made known to me as soon as possible. I love doing things right. You could say I have a passion for it. Or I would if I ever felt passionately about anything. If I were to be passionate about something, it would be rightness. I think that’s good, which pleases me because I love being good as well. That would be my second passion if only I were capable. Goodness and rightness are very important to me, even if not to the extent of passion. If I saw someone doing something bad and wrong, I wouldn’t stop them. If I were passionate I suppose I would… maybe that’s something I should strive for? It’s too late now, of course; everything’s changed.

It all started a couple of nights ago when I arrived at work only to notice I forgot my tie. I ran to my cubicle, clenching my trench coat at the chest to cover my shameful error, when I suddenly remembered that my backup ties were at the cleaners. It was closed today. I was about to just totally freak out when my good friend and arch nemesis, Cecil, arrived at my small workspace with a glint in his eye.

“I couldn’t help but notice the way you were holding your trench coat.” He smirked. “Any man of mighty brains and impeccable taste in clothing could clearly see that you were hiding something-- or a lack thereof.” He spun a No. 2 pencil between his index finger and thumb, wrist limp and elbow nonchalantly propped against the corner of my cubicle wall. He raised the coffee in his dominant left hand to his lips with a look of better-than-you-ness. At the time I couldn’t recall the term “superiority,” so I won’t use it here in order to stay true to my recollection of these harrowing events which took place recently enough that I can sort of remember what I was thinking at the time they happened. For example, after my thought about his look of better-than-you-ness, I remember not remembering what I had for breakfast and feeling concerned about it. I spent the next few minutes trying to dig around in my brain for the memory of my morning breakage of fast and missed everything he was saying to me during this time. At last I had it-- Chinese takeout. How silly of me to forget; it was a Tuesday, of course I had my Tuesday breakfast Chinese takeout.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” I asked Cecil with a triumphant grin at the flawless recollection of my latest meal. I recalled the moment of panic when I opened my fortune cookie. The delicate slip of paper inside ripped in half with the cookie, and on it were the mangled words; “There are big changes ahead for you.” This meant nothing to me at the time, but now I was beginning to wonder about its significance.

“I said I think I have an extra tie for you to borrow.” Cecil repeated with exasperation. He hated repeating himself. He often faked it to get back at whoever didn’t hear him the first time, for instance; say he had told you: “You have something in your teeth.”

“Come again?” you would respond.

He would then change it to, “Catch the game last night?” And stomp away in a huff of frustration and-- ah yes! Superiority. That’s the word. (Please excuse me, I am still following my train of thought from the other night.) Of course, he would probably never utter the words “catch the game last night.” Cecil’s most loathed phenomenon in the world is that of cliches. He hates cliches. Just hates ‘em.

Anyway, he must have felt the tie thing to be far too important to change in his second go of suggesting I borrow one of his, because he repeated it for me and I graciously accepted his offer.

“You are too kind, too kind.” I shook his hand violently but at the time it was holding a cup of hot coffee which splattered all over my work area and sensitive skin. I didn’t mind, though; I was overjoyed by this solution to my terribly embarrassing problem. “I promise to return it good as new!”

“Good as new?!” the pencil in Cecil’s right hand snapped at the clench of his fist, the two separate pieces falling to the floor in a clatter that to me resembled the cries of a close bond being severed, two kids in love being taken from each other by cruel circumstance. “I have half a mind to retract my offer at that overused phrase, and to punch myself right in the face for saying I have “half a mind” to do something-- but this tie thing is far too important. I’ll get it to you right away.”

I spent the rest of the day in a constant state of anxiety at the thought of having to wear someone else’s tie, but a foreign tie is better than no tie. Then a strange thing happened to me, and I realized the thrill of being anxious all day. It was… exhilarating! The adrenaline rush coursing through me whenever I looked down or caught someone glancing at my chest was unlike anything I’d ever felt before, and although it made me feel uncomfortable and sweaty, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. It was exciting, it was new-- it was change.

I wanted more. I started small; shifting everything on my desk askew so instead of being at right angles they were all tilted towards me, as if they were an audience watching me work. My computer and the long list of monotonous company emails within suddenly became a ferocious lion in the coliseum, and I a gladiator, conquering each reply with a mighty swing of my sword (in this case my sword was my keyboard, just in case my metaphor confused you ((I often have trouble with metaphors))).

Later I added almond milk to my coffee instead of my usual 2%. It was really weird and I didn’t want to imagine how they milked the almonds, but I enjoyed every sip with delight and defiance. At the end of my workday I turned left at my cubicle instead of right to get to the elevator, which was a little stupid in hindsight because my cubicle is at the outer corner of the building near the elevator, so I had to go the long way around… but then I took the stairs! I was washed in the sweat of heros. My knees felt like creaky hinges by the time I completed descending the 36 stories, but it was worth it for the thrill. I felt unstoppable, untouchable.

I jaywalked!

I lived.

I could do anything in the world, and the only person that could stop me was me, and I wasn’t near finished yet. I ran into my co-worker, Trent, on the street opposite that of the office.

“Your hair looks great!” He called out to me.

“Thanks!” I beamed at him. I re-parted it on the other side of my head in the bathroom.

“Hey, a few of us guys that were working late are going out for a beer. You wanna join?”

I suddenly realized that the sun had begun to fall during my trip down the stairs.

“Why, yes!” I would have been home eating my Tuesday frozen burrito with my cat and watching Glee by now. “I would love to join you!” Tonight’s episode was being recorded on the DVR as we spoke. Glee would have to wait.

Trent walked me to his car where we met up with Cecil, two accountants named Murlock and Roy, and some guy I’m not entirely sure works with us or even knows any of us, Norman. Throughout the night I believe everyone was casually throwing out subtle hints to find out who invited him, but no one seemed to show any relation to the large, bald, tattooed man in his impeccably clean wifebeater. That’s okay, though; I always carpool with people I know or am formally introduced to. This was a first, and an exciting one at that.

When we reached the bar, called Beers,  I left my suit jacket in the car. I never take off my suit jacket, not until I’m about to get into my jammies. They have clouds on them.

Everyone shouted “Norman!” when we entered, but anyone I asked wasn’t sure how they knew him. There was even a burger named after him. Fascinating fellow.

The entire event of attending a bar hangout session with friends was new to me, so I had nothing to do differently than usual since there was no usual. As the night wore on I became accustomed to the activity, and my new restless spirit needed something different. I needed more change, more excitement. I needed an outrageous gesture, so I lead the bar in song. No one knew the words, as I just made them up, but I sang it all the way through proudly atop a table. I kicked a pyramid of shot glasses which crashed to the floor and the bartender began to approach me, but I was too clever. The guys were enjoying my display, and followed me as I ran out of the bar. We laughed together on the sidewalk. I put my tie around my head like they do in the movies. Cecil smacked me across the head so hard the tie fell off and he proceeded to put it on himself. He was wearing two ties. He was changing… just like me.

The night was ours. The city was ours! We wandered the streets blind, ready to take on the world. I kicked a rock and it broke a window. I felt bad but I trekked on. We gave money to a homeless man. He spat on my shoes and angrily tweeted about it right before our eyes on his shiny new iPad. The wallpaper was something about a pipe not being a pipe. I was baffled by this but I was determined to continue enjoying myself.

We entered a dimly lit building. I was drawn to it by the purple neon lights framing the windows, but it had some questionable items for sale… by that look on your face I’m assuming you want me to move my story along. I can also tell by the tapping of your foot and exasperated sighs and also by you telling me to get a move on. I understand your signals. People have often said I am very perceptive.

The next couple of nights my new best friends and I followed the same routine; after work we headed to Beers and had Norman burgers. We got rowdy and meandered around the city until we were bored. I stopped feeling the adrenaline rush, and realized changes were becoming routine for me. They weren’t fresh, exciting. I needed to do something huge. I needed to do something drastic.

I needed to bring a giraffe into the office.

Acquiring the beast was surprisingly easy, but getting him up the stairs was the real challenge. Fitting him in my cubicle was a bit of a debacle, but he found a tolerable way to rest his head 7 cubes down. What I realized is… no one cared. No one changed what they were doing. They just pretended not to notice. That’s when I lost faith in my colleagues. Even Cecil, who had begun gossiping at the water cooler and saying things like “lovely weather we’re having” with no bigger reaction than a cringe and a nervous twitch, passed by me hurriedly without making eye contact. My full-grown giraffe was the pink elephant in the room, and people ignored it because it was easier than dealing with the situation. Because hiding behind your massive pile of papers that don’t even seem to have a purpose other than being assigned to you is more convenient than taking a giraffe out of the workplace, let alone bringing him in. I suppose that’s how they’ve dealt with me for all these years.

It’s rough being an antelope in LA, but I’ve always tried my best to blend in with society. Luckily I’m not an antelope in LA. Gotcha goin’ there for a moment, didn’t I? Nah, I was living around the center of Vancouver at the time. I’m not adventurous enough for LA… although now I suppose I am. I will move there! No, no… I promised, no more changes. From now on I’m doing things the right way, the good way. I will be good and right as I was before. Like I said, I am a civilized man, even if I am an antelope. I can restrain myself. I can wear my tie around my neck. I can take the logical route to the elevator, and I can descend it with ease in enough time to make it home for Glee and frozen dinners with my cat. That way I can avoid situations like these, and live the rest of my life the easy way, like I did before. I wouldn’t light any more office buildings ablaze and take refuge in the woods outside Vancouver. If you let me out of here I swear I won’t cause you any more trouble, Officer. Can I call you Off for short? OH can I call you Olaf?! That would be sweeeeet.

Anyway, that’s it I guess. Say, don’t I get one phone call? What do you mean it doesn’t work that way here? Who is in charge of this establishment?

Psh, Animal Control… more like animal dominion, am I right? Or is that just a fancier word for control?

The End.

[the-shy-lonely-weirdo]

Johnny is Dead

I made up a story based on the “Murdoc is God” song. I understand that Johnny is probably supposed to be Jimmy, the guy that was planning on killing the group, but I thought this would be an interesting “What if” scenario. Here is a story about Murdoc and his relationship with Johnny, and how it affected him further in life. This story will cut past to present with each chapter.

Chapter 1

Murdoc is King

              Though the store clerk had his mature magazine laid out in front of him at the counter, it was very clear he was not actually observing the large chested women in it. His blinks carried on for far too long and his head lobbed back and forth like a newborn trying to get their bearings. He was nowhere near the spriness of a newborn though, judging by his wrinkles, as defined as those on a bald cat, his grey hair, that’s path came from his sideburns, down to his chin, up his lips, into his nose and ended sprouting out, and his glasses as thick as a hookers left boob. It was clear that he had spent a long time in the old town of Stoke-On-Trent, and didn’t have much time left.

               No one would blame him for his inappropriate choice of reading, or his lack of duty as the shopkeeper at a time like this. By now, all the residents of Stoke-On-Trent would be happy at home, eating their home cooked meal, or huddled around the heater watching the telly or reading a book. If anyone were to come, it would be some steaming drunk sod stumbling in or some sprog tossers looking to cock up his night with their endless goddy and disregard for the rules. He had the Old Bill on speed dial because of those folks. Still, not a single customer had come in for sometime, and with closing time being soon, the elder suspected the day would end with not a single disturbance. That was until he heard the familiar chime of his store front door.

                The clerk’s gaze was high at first, expecting a red faced adult or a rambunctious teen. Nothing. He pauses and looks slowly down, to meet eyes of a young boy. The boy was no older than 5, clothes tattered and worn. From some of the holes, the man could see a few bruises and bandages. The boy’s hair was very crudely teased, he could tell from the occasional curly hair flicking out. When their eyes met, he could see what looked to be an infection in one of the boy’s eye, making it look red. But out of all this boy’s features, the most striking was his skin. It was green! Green as a leaf! Green as money! Green as a turd!

‘How in the world did this boy get green skin?’ The shopkeeper thought ‘... And why does he remind me of someone?’

The man decided to not ponder this and instead address the boy.

              “Bit late for a young chap to be out an’ about, wouldn’t ya say?” The clerk asked as the boy walking past his counter. He didn’t even give a glance, he simply walked into the nearest aisle and started scanning the shelves. The clerk huffed and shrugged his shoulders, now awake he peered back to his naughty Penny-dreadful, not caring about the company he had in his store.

               The boy didn’t have time to talk to some old sod, he was on a mission. The boy’s mismatched eyes roamed the aisles, looking for specific items. He had one hand in his pocket and another swinging back and forth. Before his hand would reach for an item, he would look at each end of the aisle, just in case that crusty dimwit was there.

               When he was done, he returned to the checkout area. The old man flinched slightly when a carton of milk and a box of crackers were shoved right in his face, as if he forgot about his young customer. He looked over his counter and peered at the little one.

“You better ‘ave good money fer this.” The clerk warned.

               The boy nodded and the clerk started to ring him up. As he added up the milk and crackers prices, his mind wandered back to trying to figure out why this child was so familiar to him. He gave the kid a price and he shuffled through his pockets, taking out the change he needed. The elder suspected he would have to count it out for him, but to his surprise the boy already did so and give him the precise amount.

“Quiet the smart little man ya are.” The man commented. He was met with silence.

The man put his items in the bag, but stopped just before handing it to the boy.

“I got it! I know who ya are!” The old geezer said, snapping his fingers.  “Yer dad, ‘is name is Sebastian, in’t it? Or was it Jacob?”

               The man could have sworn that he saw the boy’s face go pale at the mention of his father’s name, but it must have been his imagination. The boy looked away from his face, clearly not wanting this conversation. The old knob pressed on though.

“Yeah! Yer dad’s stumbled in ‘ere a few time. All pissed up an’ shouting about ‘is life an’ ‘is brats. Told me he ‘ad two ‘em. One was called Hannibal, the other… the other was… let me think…”

The boy’s gaze moved away from the floor and to the pondering old man, a gaze that was very shirty.

               “Hm… Oh! Yes! Murdoc! The other was called Murdoc! ‘ow could I forget that one? Sebastian complained about ‘im the most. Goin’ on about ‘ow he’s a good for nothin’ freeloader. Always causin’ trouble an’ he wishes he was never left on ‘is stoop.” The man eyed the child. “That wouldn’ ‘appen ta be you would it?”

                Murdoc didn’t answer, he just leered at the aging fuck and stuck out his arm, making it clear he wanted his items more than this conversation. The man huffed and handed over the bag.

                “Didn’ mean ta get you all miffed son, jus’ tryin’ ta ‘ave a chin wag. ‘Ey! At least you ain’t as skint as your dear old dad, eh?” The old man laughs, Murdoc turns to leave. He stops when the man calls to him. “Oi! Those are some odd names yer family ‘as! Sebastian, Hannibal and Murdoc? Hah! Whot’s ya mum’s name? Bloody Mary!”

                The laugh the old fuck gives this time is louder. Murdoc turns his head around to the man that was practically leaning over his check out station with tears in his eyes, cackling away. Murdoc waited for his laughter to mellow out a bit so that his next words could be heard.

“Wouldn’ know.” Murdoc stated “Never met me mum.”

                Murdoc smiled slightly as he walked out the store, leaving a bewildered cashier frozen in place. After getting over the initial uncomfortableness, he righted himself up and peered back at his filthy magazine, grumbling.

“Little bugger…” He mumbled “No better than ‘is sodding father…”

                Murdoc began the long trek out of that daft neighborhood and back to the outer rim of Stoke-On-Trent where his home was. He turns a corner into an alley, taking a shortcut. As he walks, he unzips his coat and licks his lips. Oh, what treasures he got this time! One by one he would take out an unpaid item and examine it. A deck of card, some hard candies, a top, a dark chocolate bar, a toy car, some bandaids and a guitar pic.

                The next stash of treasures were for his brother. A roll of film, hair gel and a small pocket knife. Murdoc grumbled, remembering how his brother broke the last one. Murdoc probably should have taken the hint after the 21st time Hannibal warned him that if he kept “playing” his cardboard box guitar, which was really just him making fake loud guitar noises, there would be consequences. Of course, Murdoc ignored him, and by 22nd time Hannibal bursted into his room wielding the pocket knife. For a split second, Murdoc was scared that Hannibal was going to aim the blade at him. It wouldn’t really have been that surprising though. In fact, it was in those situations that his other knives broke. But this time Hannibal started stabbing the fake guitar Murdoc dropped, again and again, until it was a crumpled mess. It didn’t matter how much Murdoc screamed and begged him to stop or that by the end he was stabbing the ground, his assault only subsided when the blade broke from the handle, leaving it jabbed firmly into the wooden floor. While sobbing, Murdoc could hear Hannibal threaten that if he could not replace his pocket knife, he would end up in the same state as his cardboard box guitar.

                Murdoc didn’t know if Hannibal’s threat was genuine or not. Hannibal was a lazy and dumb nine year old, most of the time never finishing what he started. So half the time his threats would never be carried out. But on the other hand, Hannibal could do what he said he would and more, so to not take any chances, he got him his bloody knife. Hopefully it wouldn’t really get bloody from his own one day.

                 But where as Hannibal’s threats were only sometimes taken seriously, his father’s were always held as completely true. Because they always were. Murdoc shivered, not from the cold air, but from what might have happened to him if he did not complete the task put to him by his father when he sent him to the store. Murdoc took out the items his father demanded from him one by one, just to triple check that he had truly gotten everything he asked for. Some meds that his father didn’t need but said he did, a razor, some foot cream, some John Thomas cream, a nail file, hook shiner and most importantly, a pack of cigarettes.

                  The cigarettes seemed to have trigger another memory. Somehow even worse than the last. One night, while Hannibal and his father watched a football match, Murdoc walked in and examined their behavior. Hannibal would yell “Fuck me ragged!” when his betting team scored, and then yelled “Fuck me!” when the other did. Sebastian was just silent, he never really got into this stuff, but he had 200 pounds staked on this game. Which meant that if his team won, he would come home drunk for a couple of nights. If his team lost, that meant he would beat the crap out of Murdoc for a couple of nights. Either situation would spell bad news for him. Murdoc didn’t want to enter the living room, for fear that a bottle of plock would be lobbed at his head. He watched the bottles move back and forth from his father’s and brother’s face and back to it’s resting place. The others stayed resting in their place on the floor, only moving when a foot kicked one. The other moving objects were their cigarette, doing the similar motion of the bottle.

                  The two were very similar, in Murdoc’s eyes, because when you saw his family members, most of the time they had one or both items. Murdoc wondered why the two older males were so dependent on them. His observations led him to understand that whenever they had those things, they would calm down a bit and smile more. Until they had too much and calmness became shambolic rage. After understanding this, Murdoc, with his mind not necessarily innocent, but still very young, decided he wanted to calm down a bit and smile more.

                  When he was sure that his brother and father were completely engrossed in their game, he tiptoed his way into the kitchen. He took a chair from the table they never ate at and pushed it against the kitchen counter. He crawls his way up and pulls out the kitchen drawer next to him, from it he took out a lighter and a bottle cap opener. He knew what everything was, where it was and how to get it simply from his father asked him to do this action everyday. He almost makes the mistake of hopping off the chair, surely attracting attention with the noise. Instead, he daintily crawls off the chair and walked toward the fridge.

                 Opening it a crack so that the light doesn’t blare out of the kitchen, he reaches his little arm to the nearest brown and green bottle. He softly closes the fridge door and walks to the table. He places the bottle opener and lighter on the table and reached down to his foot. Out of his gross, smelly, torn sock he picked out a single crinkled cigarette. Repeating the action of sticking it between his pointing and middle finger that he saw his father do so many times, and fumbling a bit, he pressed it to his mouth and held it there with his lips. He got on his tippy toes to grab the bottle opener on the creaky table, and once again taking pointers from his father, popped the cap off the bottle.

                  Swapping the bottle opener for the lighter, it took him a few tries before he could successfully flick the light on, burning his tiny finger in the process. He wanted to scream in pain, but he held back. It wasn’t hard, he learned how to not cry in intense pain from experiencing a lot of it. Crying made his father even more vicious.

                   He held the fire to the end of the fag and light it. He places the lighter back on the table and paused. He knew what he had to do but something was holding him back. That thing was fear. But of what? Fear of what this would do to him? Fear of if it would or wouldn’t help? Fear of his dad finding out? It was probably a mixture of those fears, leaving him paralyzed, not breathing or moving. But soon fear was replaced by anger. Anger at himself for facing unbelievable amounts of fear by getting up in the morning and still have the energy to keep going. Murdoc felt constant fear, but he never let it get to him, or so he told himself. But this was the one that would keep him from what he wants? No. His pain was inevitable, so why deny himself this pleasure? He was strong! He was brilliant! He was as great as the king! He was as great as a God! He was a God! Reassuring himself he takes a long deep breath in on the cigarette.

                   And immediately regrets it when a sudden twang of gross smoke goes from his mouth, down his windpipe, to his lungs and back again, leaving him a coughing fit. The smoke that came out of his mouth like he was a cartoon character that just ate something super hot.

                    Now, Murdoc’s father had often spoken of Hell. While it wasn’t spoken in the tone of those raving lunatics on the streets, telling all that they were going to Hell if they do not reach salvation, or those knobish preachers that give their sermons to mugs, telling them they’d have to suck off God or something, else they don’t end up in Hell, there were similarities. He spoke of fire and ash, a place of eternal pain and where no one can save you. But unlike those slag preachers that say there’s hope, Sebastian never gave hope to anyone, especially Murdoc. Sebastian told Murdoc that no one was safe, that all would go to Hell because all were sinners no matter how “pure” they seemed. God was a nobody that didn’t care for his “children,” like Sebastian didn’t care about his. No, the only true way of living was by Beelzebubs rules. From Sebastian’s point of view, that meant living the philosophy of Hedonism. To strive for nothing but pleasure in life and not care what morals or consequences one may encounter, at least, that’s how Sebastian explained it. Sebastian was very good at that, never caring if the people around himself were affected negatively by his actions, as long as they made him happy. Sebastian said that as long as they lived life to the fullest, the man downstairs would give them a full afterlife. Where every deadly sin would be accepted and valued. They could have as many brods to shag, more food than they ever had in life and could torture those cock ups that preached their God would save their grotty souls. They would burn in the fire and ash.

               Just as Murdoc’s respiratory system was burning in fire and ash. Hell truly did exist, in Murdoc’s throat, and the Devil was having a grand time. Murdoc searched desperately for relief, the kitchen fauset was busted and he couldn’t run all the way up to the bathroom for water. His only option was the drink in his hand. Stilling his coughing long enough to press the bottles rims to his mouth, he took a great chug of it.

               Then Hell moved from his lungs to his stomach, burning and gross. It sloshed around down there and went back up to is throat and out his mouth, all over the already dirty kitchen floor. Murdoc left his first puke mark on the floor, along side his other family members. The coughing returned and seemed to go on forever, tears filling his eyes, a mixture of snot and stomach juice dripped out of his nose. When it started to die down, he was hunched over, and used one hand to whip the tears out of his eyes and nose funk away from his mouth. He stared at the brown and green chunky mess he made on the floor, the cigarette he dropped floating in it. He felt lucky to be alive.

                But then didn’t when he heard an older, colder and familiar voice ask “What are you doing?”

                Murdoc turned his head so quick you could have sworn he snapped it and saw his father staring at him from the doorway, with his arms crossed, miffed. He righted himself quickly, bottle still in hand, and tried very hard to find the right words that would make the inevitable beating less intense.

“D-D-D- Dad! I m-mean Sir! I mean- I- I- I- I didn’- i-i’s not- I-I mean it is b-but- P-P- Please don’- I- I- I was jus’- I’ll- I’ll- I’ll put it ba- I-I’m sorry!”

Murdoc attempted to put the bottle back in the fridge, but was cut short by his father speaking again.

“Don’t you dare put that away!” Murdoc froze, his hand still on the fridge handle. His father pointed at the cigarette swirling in his sick. “Pick up that fag.”

                Murdoc paused, looking from the cancer stick to his father, then back again. He did not want to touch something that was covered in his bodily fluids, but when he looked back at his father, whose face was clearly losing patience, he didn’t waste anymore time. He quivered at the smell of his own puke, like a diseased pumpkin threw up in a diseased pigs arse, that ate diseased brusselsprouts, therefor shatting diseased crap with the diseased pumpkin puke. The feel of it was like a rotting slug had a baby with a rotting crocodile and the rotting baby had some sweating and dermatology issues, and was rotting. He was careful not to spill the vile liquid in his hand.  

“Now put it back in your mouth and take another drag.” Murdoc’s father commanded. “And after that, take another swish of that beer.”

Murdoc looked at his father, then to the baccy and then to the pig swill. Finally he spoke. “But… But I don’ wanna…”

“And I don’t want a sodding failure for a son! But look what I got!” Sebastian boomed, making Murdoc jump. “That was a perfectly good smoke and beer, and you ruined them! Just like you ruin everything else! Now you are going to finish both, or you’re throwing up your insides next!”

              Murdoc was wide eyed, his stare remaining on his father, wondering why he was telling him to do the thing he presumed he would be punished for. But seeing no way out, he took the cigarette back in his mouth and had another drag. The coughing and tears returned and it burned twice as hard. Murdoc tried his tactic again of washing it down with beer, but again, it did not work and made things worse. More groote substances escaped his stomach and mouth, hurting more as it came out. Now it was starting to give him a headache, making him sob.  

              “Oh sweet satan! You’re so daft you can’t even drink and smoke right! Don’t cry! What are you a bird?” Murdoc stilled his tears at his father’s words. “You are not going to grow up to be some bender that can’t even keep company properly! In fact…” Sebastian left the kitchen, leaving Murdoc standing in his own sick. A few minutes past, it sounded like a zoo was going through the house, floorboards being stripped away, furniture being ripped apart, his brother screaming “OI!” presumably from his father taking something from him, and then getting slugged in the face for being cheeky, and Murdoc could have sworn a donkey was involved at some point. When Sebastian finally came back, his upper half was obscured by boxes of alcohol and tobacco. He couldn’t understand how his father could have that much and still say he was flat broke, perhaps he saved it all for a special occasion? Well the occasion was now.  

“You’re going to drink and smoke all of this until you get it right!” Sebastian informed, dropping it all on the table, nearly breaking it. Murdoc stared at the pill, gobsmacked.

“... A… All that?”

“All that!”

            Murdoc looked around, trying to find a satan cursed answer to what the hell was going on! Murdoc didn’t know much about what a normal household was like, but he could guess from television and observing the families in the houses down the road, watching them eat and salivating at the meals he would never have in his house. This very thing would be considered severely wrong and highly punishable. Yet, here his father was telling him to do it again ten fold.

“Are…” Murdoc didn’t know why he was promoted to ask this question. “Are ya punishin’ me for stealin’ from ya or fer huffin’ an’ drinkin’?”

Sebastian’s hardened his eyes at Murdoc, in a way that made Murdoc believe ever word of what he said next.

“I’m punishing you for being born.”

          After that Murdoc didn’t ask anymore questions and did what he was told, snookered. He drank and smoked for hours, it didn’t matter how much he cried or how much he threw up, he just kept going. He only stopped when he blacked out, and woke up in his pavement pizza, practically showered in it, the next morning with a splitting headache. His brother stepped over him in order to get to the fridge, laughing and congratulating him on having his first hangover. He couldn’t find the strength to get up, so he just layed there, smelly and weeping. He laid there until midday, finally finding the strength to get up on his wobbly legs and slowly make his way back to his room. On the way, he saw his dad, sitting at his normal spot on the couch, watching another game, not even turning his head to acknowledge his son, with another beer and cigarette.  

At that moment, Murdoc wished he had never been born.

[fmlfpl]

Lineup Lamentations - GW19

Our Transfers, Captains, and Starting 11s for the week!

Sorry for the super super late boxing day lambs this week I (Alon) was just hanging in Slack and panicking and yeah whatever here we go lol...

—

WALSH

TRANSFERS:

OUT: Son, Rashford, Kane

IN (for -4 points hit): Salah, Agüero, Benteke

Out with the old in with the new. A Christmas hit for my shit ass team getting rid of fucks who I hate for some lovers.

Happy to be rid of the Harold Kane shaped and sized millstone around my neck in this moment.

Mo speaks for himself, pretty easy move in and it feels nice to have him back in the squad again.

Kun is certainly premature and dumb but fuck me if I'm going to sit here with Kane in my team wanting to kill myself for another week. Kun haven't owned all year and I didn't want to dither and find reasons not to get him (there are many). Just getting the Chef Kun in and will enjoy the few minutes he happens to play.

Rashford similarly just made me want to cry watching United with 9m invested in him up top. I'm sure he'll bang against Newc but whatever. I'm going nowhere fast this season so meh.

People thought I was just taking the piss with the Benteke chat I think so piss straight into your face with him directly into my team. Genuinely think he's looked really good and at his price with the next few games looking good who knows. Probably keeping Neal's place warm for this little short run but I was having the feels for Bentekkerz so he's in.

GK:

Schmeichel (LIV)

Schmikes came in with almost as many points as Pope again...what a guy. Been a disaster since I binned down a handful of points to Pope in addition to spending more money and using a transfer. Yay. At least they have a good run after the Livp game.

DEF:

Alexander-Arnold (lei) & Pereira (LIV)

Trent and Ricardo face off tomorrow - expecting 0 cleans but maybe an assist between both? Wouldn't mind that. Still going to just ride the tide with these two expensive fucks while everyone around me gets free / cheap cleans from other players. Going great this season.

Kelly (WHU)

Kelly has home Wet Spam and I really am not expecting a clean in this one for some reason. They've had an extended break and have been preparing for us for a while now. Hopefully they are just off the pace with such a long break and suck? Not sure, but not feeling hugely hopeful. Still a good on paper fixture so will roll with Kelly again.

Lundstram (WAT)

Pointstram has a good home fix against Pearson. They've looked okay on the counter but they are still bad to me. Last game before Sheffu have a really rough 4 of their next 5 games so hoping for a parting gift from Pointstram before he hits my bench.

MID:

Martial (NEW)

Tony M was actually good last game after some time dulled my emotional fury towards my team. Unlike Rash, he's actually pretty cheap, and so the blanks are easier to take for me. I also actually like Tony a lot so I'm going to stick with him for a little more. He's always had a good understanding with his french friend Paul so maybe he'll start to bang with his friend back.

De Bruyne (wol)

Kevin still just doing Kevin things. At Wolves I still don't know what Wolves are up to. They were disgusting against Norwich and if they play that way against City they will probably lose 0-4.

Salah (lei)

Last mid is Mo. Good guy Mo is back in and feels nice to have in.

FWD:

Agüero (wol)

Kun back in for the first time this season just feels incredible to look at my team and see his name in there as it always has and always will. Who knows how many games he'll start or not start in this near term, Pep bald lying fraud certainly won't tell us, so I'm just going off blind faith in this moment. Maybe he'll be nice and fresh off this injury break and be a god.

Vardy (LIV)

Vardz still in there. Hasn't blanked in 10 gameweeks don't even know what life is with him anymore.

Benteke (WHU)

Lastly is other new friend Benteke.....

CAP:

Benteke (WHU)

Benteke baby. It's all happening tomorrow.

Gotta cap the 0g 0a man who is certainly due - that's how this works, right? 

Realistically everyone else has big problems to me and while Benteke's big problem is his name is Christian Benteke..at this point I'm just going with a gut feel. I think we could bag a few against West Ham tomorrow so just going with it. I fucking blank my life away on cap every week all season this year anyway so what am I really doing here. Dunno. Just having some fun so fuck off.

—

ALON

TRANSFERS:

OUT: Hayden

IN: Cantwell

A lot of this and a lot of that and I landed with the most passive move possible and floating my other free for next GW.

Isaac Hayden will finally NOT find his way into my team for the first time it feels like all season... That’s cool...

Norwich are still bad but by my eye they’re back to playing nice stuff and Todd is back being cocky and doing dances and shit and with Aston Villa this week there should be goals there. Hoping Todd can forgive me for binning him a long time ago and get back to the good stuff.

I ended up keeping Kane (for lots of ~reasons~) and not getting Liverpool mid *yet* and just laying low. Giving Kane and Alli and Pulisic their great fixtures and seeing what’s what for next GW.

GK:

Ryan (tot)

Don’t make me type about my keeper every week. Good god... Gonna just pretend there’s a chance of getting save points or bones or something cool that other keepers get... Brighton have mostly good fixtures for the next like 11 GWs so I’m just hoping holding will yield points. Works for everyone else. Why not me?

DEF:

Lundstram (WAT)

Lundy banker.

van Dijk (lei)

VVDong always VVDue.

Clean is unlikely but also Liverpool held Leicester to two shots at Anfield so if it’s that one-sided again this time a clean could be on the cards.

Kelly (WHU)

Good fixture for Palace and Kelly... Feel similarly to Walsh that this will just eventually fold via sustained West Ham pressure but who knows sometimes they’re just dog shit also... Come on Martin.

MID:

De Bruyne (wol)

Kev’s a good pick.

Pulisic (SOU)

Lol.

Cantwell (avl)

Todd in ahead of Maddo I think is a no-brainer this week. Repay the faith Todd. Do it. And let the English see you do it.

Alli (BHA)

Alli kinda exploded at first and had his anomaly massive insane match against Bournemouth - well I’m hoping it wasn’t an anomaly because he’s been utter shit the last two. Come on Alli.

FWD:

Kane (BHA)

I’m too lazy and it’s 2am so I’m just copy/pasting what I wrote in our Slack:

"a bunch of reasons i back those stats i posted in #statzz i also just have a gut feel. feels like every time me and walsh have unanimously banished someone to FPL hell this season it's backfired so i'm trying to find reasons... why not to do that? it does seem particularly bad timing with the fixture run and those #s and gut feel and i'm just like hmm maybe i'll keep actually... and also another part of it is i think i still want 3 forwards. in the future his spot might be kun or jim or aubz or someone like that and i feel like i want to keep that slot and reevaluate soon. starting every match isn't a bad thing either... just a buncha reasons i guess."

Vardy (LIV)

Whatever.

Abraham (SOU)

Comparing Tammy’s numbers pre-injury and post-injury they’re actually still totally elite and in some specific areas his underlying stats are even BETTER.

Just need him to find his finishing boots... Is this the week?

CAP:

Kane (BHA)

Fuck it man. I don’t know.

I DON’T KNOW!!!

Very tough crazy week for cap and here I am.

I’ve made my bed and now I’m gonna wet it and then I’m gonna lie in it. Seems good!!!