24
Oct

Unidentified Friendship Objective

Four days after the photo of the chupacabra turned out to be nothing more than a rabid coyote with mange, Felix began talking about UFOs.

12
Mar

On Ghosts

“I’m so drunk,” Ross says, a smile spreading across his thin lips at the same speed at which his orange-yellow eyes are sliding shut. They’re nearly amber, but I think they’re too saturated with color for that. I only manage to look away once those eyes are pleasantly closed, focusing my gaze on the floor between my feet.

When I was fourteen we moved to the middle of nowhere, Maryland. My mother committed suicide about a year earlier; I was the one to find her. Add in my affinity with ghosts… I couldn’t stay there. I took to spending more nights at friends’ houses than at my own by the time we moved.

23
Sep

After I Win

by Critical Strike
illustrated by olukemi

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/93135.html)

It’s halftime. I can hear my blood pounding in my ears almost loud enough to drown out the screaming crowd and cheerleaders, before the noises dissolve into the halftime show. Coach is patting me on the back, and on some level his words sink into my head, make some kind of sense, but I’m not listening to him; not really anyway. I’m looking for Moon, but not with my eyes. I never need eyes to see him. I can feel him there, in my head, with his shadows and smug smiles already sneaking in. He’s the biggest tease now, right at mid-game, and we both know it, we both love it. He flatters me, pats me on the back, and I can almost feel his hands like they’re there. His shadowy magic seeps into my skin, brushing, teasing, touching. I send my electricity back at him, like I always do, tracing the shadows back to their source to find him hidden outside the locker room.

Coach’s words start making even less sense when those shadowy tendrils dig deeper. I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning as every little bit of shadow magic curves, twists, and strokes deep in places Moon’s hands can’t hope to reach, even if we we’re tangled in bed, sheets and skin damp with sweat, rocking hard against each other…

Continue reading “After I Win” »

22
Jun

[instrumental]

by Nijiiro Sumi (虹色 墨)
illustrated by olukemi

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/87843.html)

Ryan’s phone played that chirp-chirp-beep-chirp that meant he had a text message. He groaned, thought about ignoring it, then finally decided it might be important enough to grope around on the floor for, given that it was actually reasonably late at night. The guy between his legs grumbled. Ryan muttered “sorry” and flipped open his phone. The message was from Alma and said only: i need to talk

Well, fuck, what was that supposed to mean? Ryan was kind of in the middle of something here, and if it was really important, she would have just called, right? But it was kinda late, and Alma was generally not a very demanding friend, and that text message had been pretty cryptic and even ominous.

Continue reading “[instrumental]” »

5
Mar

Strawberry Fields Forever

by Critical Strike
illustrated by olukemi

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/78395.html)

May 16th, 2006
Seamus made sure to be on time. He had a few stops to make before he met up with Siobhan, and he absolutely refused to be late. With a medium-sized disposable cooler tucked under his arm, Seamus crossed Eighth Avenue and headed into Central Park, narrowly avoiding being run over by a few skaters not paying enough attention. He left the path for the grass on Strawberry Field, already grinning ear to ear at his own cleverness. He had a few surprises tucked away for Siobhan. The blond hadn’t been quite as perky as usual the last few days, and Seamus was going to make it his mission to correct that. He looked about, checking to see if Siobhan had beaten him to their meeting point.

Seamus noticed quickly that Siobhan was in fact already there. The blond faery was lying on a blanket, his shoes kicked off, and was just relaxing while he waited for Seamus to arrive. His eyes were closed and hair fanned out beneath him as he soaked up the sun, perfectly aware of the attention he was getting and ignoring it just the same. One leg balanced on the other, his foot bobbed lazily up and down as he waited.

Continue reading “Strawberry Fields Forever” »

5
Mar

Delicious

by Shoe
illustrated by olukemi

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/72704.html)

“Sir, your wine.” The waitress presents the bottle to Emry, then smartly removes the cap. She pours a tasteful blop into his oversized glass.

Emry raises the glass to his nose, eyes lighting up as he inhales. A small sip and his eyes are half-closed. He almost forgets to turn and nod. The waitress pours a decil into my glass, then tops up Emry’s to match and places the bottle on the table, label toward us. Perayne Terreplus 46691, a very good year for a long-lived producer. A mouthful of red grape, my nose and tongue confirm, with a deep hint of cinnamon and the signature top notes of their offworld vineyards: chive and sweet red pepper.

Continue reading “Delicious” »

5
Mar

Pink Is The Love You Discover

by Critical Strike
illustrated by olukemi

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/78806.html)

— February 14th, 2008 —

Some people had reason to hate Valentine’s Day. Hell, it was just created by the card and chocolate companies to entice people to spend money, profess the love they should be professing all year long, and generally make single people feel like shit, right? Or something reasonably bitter sounding like that. See, that was part of the problem, really. If you hated Valentine’s Day, it had to be because you were single, and thus bitter about the lovey-dovey day, right? No, it couldn’t just be because the concept of the “holiday” was ridiculous.

Continue reading “Pink Is The Love You Discover” »

5
Mar

Maps

by yabamena
This story has been removed at the author’s request.

16
Oct

How Not To Exorcise A Demon

by yabamena
This story has been removed at the author’s request.