Man Seeking

by shukyou (主教)
illustrated by cloven

“He’s a serial killer, you know,” was what Wyatt heard as he approached his friends at the bar.

“Nah,” said Benny, shaking his head so his disdain came through loud and clear over the thudding strains of Joy Division. “He probably doesn’t kill them. Just chains them to a radiator and maybe licks them twice a day.”

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Definitions of Descent, and the Question of Recovery

by L. Rae
illustrated by cloven

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/343353.html)

“Hey, Nico. On your left. That’s the one.”

Jeremy shoulders the other boy, nodding his head towards the small room off the church foyer. Against the remaining shreds of floral wallpaper, a figure turns towards their voices before flickering out of existence. A bare lightbulb sparks to life in its place, illuminating the room like an old movie reel, snapshots of the space rather than a cohesive setting.

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Bachelors and Bouquets

by loveonthefarm
illustrated by cloven

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/335893.html)

“Please,” Avery said, “please, please tell me you’re all kidding.”

They grinned; and then, across from him, in unison, Elise, Shayna, Simon, and Nicky shook their heads.

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Ladder Hitch

by cloven and loveonthefarm

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/328191.html)

Slowly, the rope pulled taut.

“That should do it,” Reagan said. Careful, he ran his finger along the edge of the rope, touch featherlight and electric where it brushed against Seth’s skin. “How are you feeling?”

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Make It Work

by loveonthefarm
illustrated by cloven

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/308299.html)

illustrated by cloven

It’s a beautiful August day–sunny, warm, and lively–and Tory is stuck inside.

He’s been stuck inside all morning, moving into his new dorm room and unpacking, but now it’s two in the afternoon, and he’s going stir-crazy. Voices and music from the Student Activities Fair on the front lawn have been filtering in for hours, and Tory’s stayed strong–but the warm breeze that tickles at his shoulders when he walks past the window is the last damn straw.

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Blood in the Water

by cloven

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/288793.html)




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