Miscellaneous
Bistro Huddy
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[[No Working Title]] -- In Notes
A 3+1 story about trans Nicole and how her coworkers find out she's trans. First, unbeknownst to her, her fifteen year highschool reunion books out the entire restaurant, requiring all hands on deck. She recognises too many people and even more people recognise her. Well, a lot of people ask if they've met, even mentioning her dead name as the hottest guy in school. Too bad he couldn't make it. To her horror, just a month later, her parents show up, asking for Joseph. Hell breaks loose in the restaurant. Nicole has it handled. She's okay. Of course, her brother has to show up, too. He saw the post their mother made on Facebook about her disgraceful son and his desperate call for help.
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Onward
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[[Onward, Ian!]] -- In Process
I have this bad habit of making everyone gay. THis is Ian's story of self-discovery. He meets a rather eccentric troll named Finnian. Slowly, with help from his new friends, he figures out just why Finn makes his heart race and his hair stand on end. He learns about the pains of identity and the cruelty of the world.
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Everytime Ian felt like his life was at a standstill - immobile, frozen - he excused himself from dinner, from class, from friends and found the nearest mirror. Usually, it was a bathroom or a vanity or his phone. He would look himself in his eyes and, with his best Barley impression, say, “Onward, Ian!”
Now was one of those times.
Ian’s English teacher, bless her heart, was introducing the class to the tale of Perseus.
“Perseus is a Greek legend that tells of his battle against Medusa to save his loved ones,” Ms. Verne smiled, a hand over her pregnant stomach. Her ears flicked as she scanned the room. Her eyes alighted on her prey and she cleared her throat. “Ian, I think you might be able to relate. You went on an ‘adventure’ with your brother earlier this year, right? You were trying to bring back your father.”
Ian swallowed nervously. “Uh, right.”
Gorgamon leaned forward and whispered, “Littlefoot thinks he’s a hero. How sweet.”
Ian shuddered uncomfortably at the hot breath spreading down his back. “It’s Lightfoot.”
He could feel Gorgamon’s eye roll. “Whatever, freak.”
Lots of students and teachers had made it abundantly clear that they thought his quest with Barley was a made-up, last-ditch effort at attention. Ms. Verne was among them. She’d even gone as far as to suggest counselling or even a special education program.
Ian’s hand shot into the air. He didn’t wait to be called on before asking, “May I go to the bathroom?”
Ms Verne sighed. “I suppose, Ian. You really should try to go before class-”
Ian was already pushing the door open. He didn’t bother taking the hall pass. He ran down the hall towards the nearest bathroom. The door smashed against the wall when he barged in. He stumbled into the stall farthest from the door. His back hit the wall and he slid to the floor, head in his knees.
He took short, unsteady breaths.
Ever since he and Barley had come home, Ian had felt stuck. Now that he knew what the world could hold, he hated staying cooped up in his small house. He wasn’t moving forward or backward. He was just… existing. And it wasn’t enough. If he weren’t really doing anything, what was his purpose? Why was he here?
He pulled out his phone and opened his camera.
He took a sturdier breath. His eyes were rimmed with tears and his cheeks were flushed with a faint purple. He swiped at his eyes.
He blew out all the air from his lungs. He lowered his voice as much as his vocal cords would allow and murmured, “Onward, Ian.”
He could imagine his brother's courageous grin cheering him on.
Right. Ian wasn’t stuck. He was growing and learning and preparing for when a campaign might next call on him.
He took a deep, confident breath and said, just a bit louder, “Onward, Ian!”
A knock on the stall door made him jump. He turned quickly, staring at the feet under the door.
They were small feet with plain black Vans, both left untied. The left foot had a fuzzy black sock crumpled down to the ankle. The other sock was pulled up their calf and decorated with rainbow stripes. Their skin was a soft lavender.
Ian swallowed, his nerves rushing back to him. He pushed himself cautiously to his feet.
The knock came again, this time accompanied by a warm voice. “Uhm, Ian? I-I saw you run in here. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Ian licked his lips. He reached slowly for the lock.
“You don’t have to open the door or talk to me. I just- uhh, y’know what, this is stupid. Sorry for bothering you.”
Ian pulled open the door.
A small troll stared up at him with wide, grey eyes. He sucked in a startled breath. “Uhh, hi.” The troll was wearing khaki cargo shorts, a yellow and blue striped button-up, and a dark green, lace-knit sweater. His backpack came in the form of a sparkly purple and white, plaid, messenger bag. His hair fell in a black, knotted mess just past his shoulders; A small braided piece was tucked behind his ear. He wore a pair of round, copper, wire-frame glasses. A plain silver chain wrapped behind his neck was connected to either side of the glasses. Needless to say, he was the most eccentric troll Ian had ever seen.
“Hi,” Ian offered a small awkward wave.
“Are you okay?”
“Yep. I’m… all good.”
“Right,” the troll took a step back, “duh, of course you’re okay. It was stupid to- uhm-” he pointed a thumb over his shoulder and hugged his books tighter. “I’m gonna go.” He stumbled over his laces as he turned around, but made it successfully into the hallway.
“Bye,” Ian whispered into empty air.
811/1674 Words
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The Goofy Movie
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[[Good Luck, Babe]] -- In Process
The X Games are over. These two rivals attracted a lot of attention and, eventually, their school had to catch wind of their awful representation. So, to fix this problem, why don't Max and Bradley spend some quality time together? Nothing could go wrong.
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“Maximillian Goof,” the principal’s scratchy, old voice echoed from the PA system, “please report to Ms. Tzu’s office.”
Max hunched up his shoulders. Uh-oh. He swiped his tongue over his piercings as he stood. Class was almost over, so he threw his bag over his shoulder and made his way into the hall.
Following some of his worst nightmares, the principal’s voice crackled again. “Bradley,” he sighed, “Bradley Uppercrust III, please report to Ms. Tzu’s office.”
Hopefully, this was just a coincidence. Bradley just happened to have an appointment right after him. They wouldn’t have to see each other; they wouldn’t have to speak to each other.
Right?
Max made it to Ms. Tzu’s office first.
Shannon Tzu was one of the school’s guidance counsellors. She had brown, greying hair chopped at her chin with equally uneven bangs, a perky nose, and a small, upturned mouth. She had black, oval glasses. She wore too much eyeshadow and not enough foundation, leaving her face patchy and discoloured. She was a huge fan of pinstriped skirt-suits and chunky high heels she could hardly keep her balance in. She stood a whopping 5 feet off the ground.
Ms. Tzu was never married, and never had kids. The only pictures on her desk were of her twin sister, her husband, and their kids.
Ms. Tzu’s hands were folded over her desk when Max let himself in. She stared up at him from behind her glasses.
Max’s nose scrunched at the sloppy orange eyeshadow falling down her cheeks.
Max cleared his throat and gave an awkward wave. “You, uhh, wanted to see me… ma’am?”
“Sit,” was all she said.
Max obeyed.
They sat in uncomfortable silence for five minutes. A knock at the office door made Max startle. He licked at his piercings.
“Come in,” Ms Tzu called cheerfully.
Much to Max’s chagrin, Bradley stepped into the room.
“Apologies,” he smiled, “I was in the South building. I came as quickly as I could.” His eyes alighted on Max and he visibly recoiled.
“If you would, Bradley,” Ms. Tzu gestured to the empty chair beside Max.
Bradley hummed disapprovingly, but sat.
Max slouched in his chair and shoved his hands in his pockets.
Ms. Tzu, finally, began to explain. “I have been a guidance counsellor at Denison University for twenty years. The ‘X-Games’ started in my third year. They have never before been as big a problem as they proved this year. These problems revolve entirely around the two of you.” She paused, clicking around on her computer. “I should suggest an expulsion for the both of you.”
“What-” Max barked.
“However,” she continued, “this is the first case we’ve seen like yours. We would like to show to the public that we are perfectly capable of handling any minor issues our students might throw at us. Therefore, you two are being assigned a video log.” She smiled evilly. “You two are required to spend at least 6 hours a week with each other. Or, 9 hours with friends present. At the end of the month, you will turn in separate video logs describing your time together. In your video log, you must include a synopsis of your activities together, one thing you learned about the other, and two compliments for each other.”
Bradley grumbled incoherently. Max crossed his arms.
“Well, you’ve not fought this nearly as much as I predicted,” Ms. Tzu said. “I’m glad you boys see the positives in this.”
Max glared at her through his lashes. “What’s the point of arguing? You’ve clearly already decided. Besides, it’s only a month.”
Ms. Tzu hummed. “You’ve misunderstood, Maximillian. The video logs are due at the end of each month. This will continue until I decide you’ve made enough peace with each other. Or until Bradley graduates.”
“Excuse me?” It was Bradley’s turn to object. “I can’t be worried about this Freshman for the rest of my time here. I have tests and job applications and-”
“Then I suggest you become quick friends,” Ms. Tzu pushed her glasses onto her forehead. She stood. “Now, if you will,” she shooed them towards the door. “You will each receive emailed instructions at the end of each month. Upload your video log and reply with it to the email. Otherwise, we will have no choice but to remove you both from the roster.” She shut the door hard.
Max stood frozen, clutching his bag against his chest.
Bradley tensed beside him, clearly upset.
Max took a deep breath, taking his phone from his pocket. He sighed loudly to pull Bradley’s attention.
“Oh, come on,” Bradley growled. “I’m not even half as annoying as you. This should be like cake for you.”
Max decided to ignore him. He offered his phone instead.
Bradley frowned down at it. “What-?”
“Your number,” Max licked his piercings. “If we have to ‘hang out,’ it will be easier to plan with each other’s phone numbers.”
Bradley rolled his eyes, but took the phone and added his number.
Max dropped his phone back into his pocket and turned towards his next class. “Bye, Bradley,” he waved nonchalantly over his shoulder.
To his surprise, he heard a murmured response. “Goodbye, Max.”
867/4945 Words
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Original Works
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[[No Working Title]] -- In Notes
This is a story I want to write based ff of a game of Skyrim I played where I married the follower Marcurio. He's a mage you can find at the inn in Riften. What would you do if you woke up with no memory of who you were? With only a vague memory of your skills and what these people considered common knowledge: reading, writing, wielding a sword. Obviously, you'd save their lands from a war. How? You'll figure it out. Maybe you'll make some money, or fall in love, or adopt a kid. Who knows? All you know is that whatever past you had is behind you and all you can do is move forward.
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[[No Working Title]] -- In Notes
Caellum Hines and Vladimir Iacobs are rivals. Everyone in the Monster Jam community knows it. The two drivers really like to play it up, too, calling each other names and mocking each other for the cameras. The poeple don't know about the long, tender nights they spend together, safe and warm in each other's arms. They preffered it this way. If they could keep their privacy, then they would absolutely pretend to be rivals for their fans. Then, tragedy. Caellum's truck flips. He doesn't climb out like he should've. His truck emits an awful gas smell. Vladimir cant very well just sit in his truck and watch his husband suffer.
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[[No Working Title]] -- In Notes
Arthur's the new kid in school. It isn't normally bad, but he's a Senior, which means that everyone in his grade already has their friend groups. He's basically destined to be a loner. Lucky for him, Renae and Karina are more than willing to adopt a poor new kid. One rule: beware of Viktor and his group of fucking morons, better known at the Russel High Varsity Football team. Karina's brother was a real piece of work, an asshole, a stereotypical jock. It was just Artie's luck to have him running late to lunch; He barely made it to the line before the doors were locked. It was just his luck to run into Viktor and dump his lunch over both of them. Now, he'd owe the Captain a new shirt and a favour. Please just let it be something easy.