HeyJaredSchlocko's Short Fanfic
Schlocko's Short Fanfic is a forum for the vignettes I want to share, some of them connected and some of them stand-alone, but all of them named after pop songs.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 4
- Latest publication
- Sep 6, 2026
- Audience
- Checking…
- Earliest in this view
- Jul 8, 2026
Latest issues
Witchy Woman (opens the original)
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Chet lifts a spoonful of chowder to his lips, slurps, and winces. What a fool he was to persuade Cupplinger to quit Mouquin’s and serve as chef here in the Executive Mansion. The chowder is perfectly seasoned, with delectable hints of parsley and pepper, but the tomatoes, claims and bacon are of such inferior quality that Cupplinger is like a milliner who has placed an extravagantly brimmed hat atop a prune-faced old hag. Cupplinger, the poor bastard, could be in a well-appointed New York kitche
One of These Nights (opens the original)
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His eyes smart from the unnaturally steady luminescence of the hideous Emeralite lamp on on his desk. He’s sweated his suit a darker shade of gray. No place he has ever lived, not even the jungles of the Philippines, has been as torrid as this cursed city. Of course, he can’t dismiss the possibility that it’s nerves making him perspire.For tonight he shirks duty to nation and spouse to indulge the fantasies about which he dare not whisper in public.Is it sinful? Of course. Will he have to beg Go
Bad Girls (opens the original)
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She sees Andie’s pudgy little hands are trembling just slightly as she lifts the legal pad from her lap.“Dear Robyn, we have been co-workers for five years . .”She has no doubt that Andie is the bitch who led her into this massacre. She shouldn’t have trusted the message about a client asking to see the Crestwood Street property at 7:00. No small businessman wants to tour a potential office space in the early evening. They want to be home drinking or watching TV or arguing with their partners, a
Windy (opens the original)
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Dylan sighs when his phone blasts a steady nonstop screech. Then he throws his head back and groans when the sirens begin to blare. Dylan puts on his headphones. They muffle the electronic banshees but do not mute them. He has to be satisfied with that.Over the fifteen Springs of his life, Dylan has built a high enough tolerance to these eardrum-piercing Henny Pennys that he can finish his homework while false alarms wail both inside and outside his room. But graphing asymptotes is already a bor
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