Dreams Do Come True (Patreon)

It's not fun being the smallest kid in class. The runt, as it were, the one the bullies pick on. For poor Marshall, he was that kid. At 5’6 and 16 years old, he was by far the smallest guy in school. He was definitely below average for height and weight. He was an A-grade student all around, the teacher's smartest pupil, though he was never a fan of raising his hand to answer every question the teacher would often pick on him to answer, and he begrudgingly would to jeers of “Teacher's pet!” from the local bullies in his class Charlie and Rowan. Now Marshall was not your average geeky kid, he didn't wear glasses, and he was, in fact rather good-looking, and the jocks only picked on him for his intelligence and stature. There was hardly an ounce of fat or muscle on his frame! His strawberry blond hair was always messy. He often ran his fingers through his hair, giving it a tousled and carefree look. Despite its untamed appearance, there was something effortlessly stylish about how his hair fell across his forehead. It was clear that he didn't put much effort into styling it, but it seemed to work in his favour nonetheless.

Marshall had always harboured a deep fascination with the idea of being a jock, or a physically adept and commanding athlete, with rippling muscles. Even so, the mere prospect of joining a gym or participating in school sports was enough to intimidate him greatly. Consequently, he spent the majority of his time engrossed in his studies or indulging in video games with his close circle of friends, who also didn't care for athletic pursuits. Nevertheless, Marshall's admiration for those who managed to excel in the realm of sports never wavered.

That day he had had a particularly bad day at school, he was jumped by the two bullies in his class Charlie and Rowan, they threw him to the ground at lunchtime before kicking and swearing at him. Leaving him beaten and bruised, he limped off to class before making a quick escape home at home time, avoiding all the places they hung out after school.

He couldn't stop the tears from streaming down his face as he hunched over on his bed. It was a feeling he knew all too well - the feeling of being bullied. He hated how powerless it made him feel, and how it seemed like there was no escape from the constant torment. But deep down, Marshall knew that he was strong enough to overcome this, even if it didn't feel like it at the moment. He just needed to find the time and some courage to stand up for himself. He fell into a deep sleep and dreamt about having the biggest muscles...