Caption This (23rd Sep)

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

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Seanday Extra Portion: Morning After

I turned over and groaned. My best friend was visiting me, and he'd insisted on going to a club. It was a hairy night, I'd tried to keep sober while Mark proved his worth downing drink after drink.

****

Light peeled through the curtains, bleeding through my eyelids. I groaned again and pulled the duvet over my head.

Something dredged its way through my mind: sunlight. What time was it?

I threw the duvet back and sat up; big mistake. I retched holding a hand to my mouth and leaned over the edge of the bed. There was a conveniently placed bucket: I used it.

Collapsing back into bed, I pushed my hands through my hair and holding my head desperately trying to stop the room spinning. I tried to think why I had this lousy hangover, I'd only had three drinks; had someone spiked them?

There was a noise from the other room, it cut through my mind like an axe. I groaned guessing it was Mark, slowly I pushed myself up. The smell from the bucket made me retch again, but it was dry. Getting to my feet, I stumbled towards the door my hands feeling my way, looking through squinted eyes.

Seanday Off: Take, take, take

I read the text and threw the mobile across the room. "Damn-it."

A quiet life, that's all I wanted, but everywhere I stopped people took it away.

It had been three months, long enough that I thought I'd be safe. But the text had told me that they were on the way. Someone had tipped them off, and I had a good idea who was responsible.

I'd been on the run; across the country. Each time I'd tried to make a home I'd get the call, giving me minutes to escape and run--again.

Even if I kept to myself, people would rat me out call the AGENCY. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, was it my colour? The way I dressed--I plucked at the yellow shirt I was wearing. Maybe they were just plain scared of me--I wasn't small, I looked after myself.

The mobile bleated again, and I retrieved it from the floor. "Fuck." I'd only had it for a few weeks, and now it was worthless. Whatever text came through was unreadable on the cracked screen.

Caption This (16th Sep)

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

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Seanday Reloaded: What’s up Son?

I walked over and gave Jack a fatherly hug pulling him in close to my heavy chest, but he pushed away.

“What's the matter son?”

Jack looked at me with a suspicious eye, “For a start my Dad never calls me son!”

“Ahh, I guess I should call you Jack then?”

“And he’s never hugged me in my life!” Jack mumbled

“Shit, really screwed it up for you eh?”

“Yeah kinda, took a while to get my dad to drink that stuff you know?”

“Yeah I know, kinda big commitment from me as well pulling on this heavy suit and becoming your dad.”

“I know, but my dad was shit and you got thrown out of your house by your parents. You know my dad would never have let you lived with me, now we’ve fixed both problems.”

Jack looked around and checked no one was around before pulling his dad in giving him a kiss.

Seanday Reloaded: Student Appropriation

You’re talking with your partner, Officers James. “Any idea what all this shit is about?” He shakes his head. “We almost had the drugs ring at that school busted, and now they’ve pulled us off the job for this Special Assignment.” You sigh.

James gives you an elbow the ribs, “You know any of these other guys?”

“I dunno, they’re not from our precinct.”



You you turn the corner into the large meeting room and see fellow officer McGill at the front and give him a nod, he stands there for a moment with his arms crossed. “Officers, less noise please, it will all become clear in a couple of minutes,” he claps his hands a couple of times. “GUYS! take your seats, you’re not at school now,” he pauses for a moment with a smile on his face and shakes his head.

Caption This (9th Sep)

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

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Another Thor

Loki suddenly appeared in my house.

“What the…,” Before I could finish my question he had whisked me off to someplace unknown.

My eyes went wide in amazement at the great hall bathed in golden moonlight I saw before me. The wonderful smell of jasmine on a warm summer night tickled my nose. Loki stood close by, a sly smile on his face as he seemed to watch me with a great deal of amusement.

“Welcome home, brother.” Brother? I wasn’t Loki’s brother. I was from Earth and he was an Asgardian. What did he mean by brother?

“Brother?” I questioned him, only to find the voice I heard was foreign to me: deeper, accented, and quite authoritative I was sure if it had come from someone other than myself at that particular moment. As my mind tried to make sense of all this I noticed I was now looking slightly down at him rather than looking up to him. Had he shrunk?

Just then a slight breeze wafted past, billowing a red cape around my body. Where had a cape come from? I stared down at myself. I was no longer dressed in the jeans and t-shirt I had on before. Instead I found myself clad in armor and maille that clung tightly to muscles that definitely weren’t mine. I brushed away a strand of long blonde hair hanging in my face. Wait… long blonde hair?? I was nearly bald and never had this color blonde hair. What had Loki done to me?

Seanday Off: Something Big

"Fuck this guy is hungry," Paul thought to himself, "I reckon I can get a good tip from this guy."

Paul was one of the escort agencies top men, easily earning over $2,000 a night. The agency had sent him a message telling him a young executive had asked for him specifically and doubled the fee if he could see him tonight. How could he refuse?

Paul arrived at the hotel, sure enough at the bar was a young executive immaculately presented in an expensive suit. Paul sat at the bar, and the guy leaned over. "You here to see me?" He asked.

Paul looked at the guy, he was probably no older than twenty-seven, his suit and shirt tailored to show off his muscular physique. Even his hair was perfectly crafted, and his blue eyes sparkled with mischief. "Yeah, I'm Paul Stealman. You called the agency," Paul replied.

"Perfect, my name is Jason," he replied studying Paul's build.

Paul followed Jason to the room, moments later Jason was naked, and Paul found himself admiring his body. Paul pulled his shirt and pants off, although in his mid thirties he was handsome and strong.

Jason walked over and looked up into Paul's eyes. "Big, strong, handsome, a perfect specimen," Jason whispered as he drew Paul into a deep kiss. Grasping Paul's neck Jason sat on the couch, Paul knelt at his feet.

Seanday Feast: Lone Wolf

I watched him take another picture, I checked my mobile and within seconds he'd posted it onto his Instagram. All his pictures were like this, he'd worked hard--that was obvious.

As I continued my cardio I watched as he plucked at the sleeves of his t-shirt, I had to admit he was prime beef.

He was older by a few years, but it didn't bother me. He was just what I was looking for, every gym has one. A guy, a big guy that keeps to himself, but is always there. Some might consider him part of the decor, approach him and he'll stare you down until you retreat--a lone wolf.

Caption This (2nd Sep)

*** A GREAT STORY IN THE COMMENTS ***

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

Retirement

Tom Brady and Bill Belichick were to meet in the coach’s office and then have lunch. Lunch with Belichick was always at some fancy restaurant so he had dressed in a suit his loving wife Gisele had picked out for the occasion. The 6’4” man was a handsome and imposing sight even out of his uniform.

“Please sit down, Tom.” Belichick began in a very serious tone. “Before we go to lunch I need to have a talk with you about your future with the team. Nothing to worry about. Coffee?” Coffee? How could he possibly think about coffee when they were talking about something so damn important to him?

Belichick continued. “You’re getting a little long in the tooth so we have to start making plans for your retirement. We need to make way for a younger quarterback to take your place so you can get away from the wear and tear of football.”

Essentially, he was being put out to pasture, his coach telling him that he was past his prime. The famous, or infamous depending on your view, quarterback knew at 40 years of age that he was getting old for a professional quarterback and that his time as the king of the Patriots would come to an end someday but why talk about retirement this soon, especially when he had just led his team to another Super Bowl victory and proved all the naysayers wrong? True, he didn’t play like he had when he first started out but he was still quite capable of winning football games and bringing home trophies. For sure Gisele would like him to retire. She was always nagging him about going out on top before he was seriously injured, but football was his life.

“I’m sure we can find a spot for you within the organization, a nice desk job. Something that doesn’t require you to be on the field playing.”

Tom’s temper got the better of him and he erupted. “Seriously? No way. I want to keep playing for as long as I can. Besides, who are you going to get to replace me? Garoppolo?”

“Sorry Tom. I was hoping you would cooperate with me.” Belichick rang a buzzer on his desk and an immaculately dressed man entered the room. Tom had no idea who he was but he must be quite wealthy, judging by his suit and the gold cufflinks, studded with diamonds that formed the letters ‘HC” in the center, that he was wearing. “You leave me no choice.”

The stranger raised his arm, the cufflinks emitting a brilliant white flash that blinded Tom’s eyes. Suddenly he found himself outside, his arm poised to launch a spiral. He was so surprised by the sudden change that he fumbled the pass, the ball missing the intended target.