Description: It's really not! This story is based on a dirty joke I made a while back in a tumblr post. I do not own Total Drama.

Years after TDI, Trent the musician, and Gwen the artist, have fortunately achieved success in what they wanted to do with their lives. Although, it didn't come easy. They have struggled and suffered through continuous rejections of their works several times. Many days and nights they survived off of frozen TV dinners and 99 cent noodles for dinner. Additionally, that had dates of clipping coupons on the sofa and having to share the shower to save water. Well, there were absolutely no complaints in the last one. They did not mind that. At all. But it was a revelation for both of them when things started to pick up. Gwen won an artist contest where the award money was $50,000. With a portion of that money she started an online art gallery where she sold her own art to people around the world. As for Trent, his lead single of his album climbed up to #7 on the billboard charts and is selling relatively well in other countries. It didn't stop there. Their dream home was on the market. They both hopped at the chance to get it and now they are moving in. But moving in was a royal pain, no doubt.

Luckily they tackled a decent amount of stuff. Trent is getting the couch up the moving truck, which happens to be one of the heaviest things in the apartment.

"Well, that's half of the stuff so far."

Gwen swipes beads of sweat off of her forehead and huffed in frustration.

"How am I so out of shape?"

"Because most of your art projects consist of you sitting on you butt most of the time."

"Ha! Trent, when did you learn to get such witty comebacks?"

"After I started dating you."

Gwen beams and runs over to kiss him on the cheek.

"Glad to know I'm such an influence on you."

"Glad to know that you are fond of slacking. Come on let's go!"

Gwen playfully scoffs.

"Okay, calm down divo, I'm going!"

Trent laughs at her response and gives the couch a last shove.

"I'm gonna go up and get my printer. Hopefully I won't pull a muscle."

"Oh yeah, that would be awful."

Gwen snickers at his jokingly, false-sounding worry and runs up the steps of the apartment building.

Moving was not an easy task, but it helps when you have a mover. Her name was Colby. She was an athletically fit girl with olive-skin, caramel colored hair, and rich hazel eyes. She was good at her job and helped with a lot of the heavy-lifting. It also helped that she was very precise with getting the most out of the apartment while making sure everything was placed securely based on size and weight. Gwen couldn't help but notice that the woman was very attractive, but she has nothing to worry about... Right?

"Hey Trent," the Colby asks.

"Yes?"

"I need to ask."

*Meanwhile with Gwen*

Gwen stumbled down the last of the steps with the printer in her hands and overhears Colby and her boyfriend speak.

"How long is it?"

Gwen was stunned at that statement.

"No way," she thought, "She doesn't mean…"

"Uhh, Roughly nine inches."

Gwen's jaw dropped.

"No way, in the seven layers of hell!"

She was practically screaming in her mind how shocked and disgusted she was.

"I see. I think that'll fit just fine."

Gwen heard enough. She storms up, puts down her printer on the ground, and confronts them.

"Am I interrupting?!"

Both Colby and Trent were taken back by her outburst.

"Woah, Gwen what's wrong?"

"What's wrong? Are you kidding?! You don't see how frickin' wrong it is that she asked about your SIZE and you have the audacity to tell her!"

Trent looks at her incredulously, then a hit of realization hit him and realized what the conversation between Colby and him must have sounded like to her. He couldn't help bu chuckle a little but stopped immediately when Gwen's demeanor worsened.

"Babe! It's not what it sounds like! She was asking how long my guitar amp was. Nine inches." He gestures over to the guitar amp, which was lying on the ground, to prove his point.

Colby interjects in a meek voice.

"I'm also happily in a relationship. Just giving an extra clarification."

Gwen stood with her mouth agape. She was completely mortified.

"Well, I feel like an idiot."

Trent looks back at woman and signals a "one minute finger" to her. Then, he walks over to Gwen, puts his arm around her shoulders, and leads her into a secluded corner on the side of the apartment building.

"Gwen," Trent begins while planting his hands on both of her shoulders.

"You should know about now, that you nothing to worry about. You're the only woman for me."

"I know. I know. I don't know what I was thinking."

Gwen continues with a deep sigh, "I'm so sorry that I accused you of something like that. It's just you have so much female traffic following you and they can be SO aggressive."

Her boyfriend is practically a known sex symbol at this point in his career and woman act as if they are cats in heat around him. There are times when she feels incredibly smug to be his girl. There are also other times when she fantasizes about spraying the women away with a gigantic water spray bottle as if they were misbehaving cats.

Trent sees where she is coming from and wanted nothing more than to reassure her about everything. But before he could, Gwen speaks again.

"Babe, I trust you. I was stupidly jealous and assumed the worse."

"I get it. You want me all to yourself. I feel the same way. Plus, moving has got us both a little ornery."

"Yeah, I am yearning for some down time."

"Don't worry. As soon as we get this first truck load done," Trent says as he moves a strand of hair affectionately.

"…we can get our bed set up at our new place…"

Gwen quirks her eyebrow up at word "bed."

Trent closes in and whispers in Gwen's ear.

"…you can get every last inch of me. All nine of them."

Gwen's breathing quickened while cheeks turned red. How can a man that way so gentleman-ly and sweet get so naughty in less than 5 seconds.

"Alright! We have no time to waste. Let's heave!"

Trent chuckles at Gwen's sudden burst of enthusiasm and follows after her.

That was his only woman for sure.