Satire - Stories

Everyone knows the gayest thing about gay erotica is the straight guys.

Bo, a neurotic otter with a deadline and a questionable relationship with his houseplants, sets out to write the perfect Creature Feature.

Austin never expected his erotic novella would get him bent over in court.
But here he is.
Legally gagged.
Possibly screwed.
And definitely misconstrued.

History is written by the victors.

Maps are written by... George.

Hi, I’m Skylar. I’m sixteen, gay, and trapped in a high school satire where every internet trope you’ve ever read shows up with glitter and trauma. I’ve got a closeted jock crush, a cheerleader nemesis who smells like body spray and hate, and a best friend who hands out condoms like Tic Tacs. This story has locker room angst, hallway drama, and possibly a car accident that isn’t that serious but still ruins everything. It’s messy, dramatic, and honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.

A cynical writer sells out and writes a gay werewolf story for clout.
It’s supposed to be trash.
It goes viral instead.
Now the author he accidentally parodied thinks it's hot.
And the fans? They’re demanding Chapter Two.
The problem?
He never intended to write one.
... Oops.

Twin brothers.
One is gay.
The other is haunted... probably.

Perhaps this story is merely a sorry little attempt at magical realism. Or perhaps it only takes place in the mind of its narrator, or in his dream, or perhaps some of it really happens to him—or a combination of all that. But none of that matters; none of those ideas either add to or detract from the story. With a nod to the many modern adaptations, here is another take on the Pygmalion myth. As with all such stories, be careful what you wish for!

What do you get when your satirical college essay is read by your two dads?

Trial by passive-aggressiveness.

Judgment from a pug who demands tribute with every verdict.

And emotional blackmail, served cold on a guilt-plated platter.

Thanks, Dads.

What’s the cure for heartbreak?

A quiet night with whiskey and regrets? Not for me.

Thanks to my chaotic friend Mervin, I get dragged into a neon-drenched karaoke disaster, where off-key screaming is therapy, a DJ refuses to shut up, and a bartender named Dudu might just be the best bad decision of my life.

A hilariously chaotic, painfully relatable, and unexpectedly cathartic tale about heartbreak, bad karaoke, and singing your damn heart out.