gruesme



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    Sid’s usually more careful about things like this.

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    17 Aug 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    "Sid," Geno said, jogging down the stairs two days later. "You not like jizz. Is like shoes thing, or like chunky peanut butter thing?" Sidney had strong feelings about his shoes, but he grudgingly acknowledged that manufacturers continued to issue updated models every few months, so his running shoes were never quite the same even though he always bought the same brand and style. Chunky peanut butter, on the other hand, was inviolate. You did not fuck with the chunky peanut butter.

    Or, as I titled the document, Jizz: a love story.

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    28 Jul 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    "Better, yes?" Geno said at last. "Do what Sid likes."

    "I don't know what I like," Sidney whined.

    "Find out," Geno said. "Is okay. My dick here for you."

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    28 Jul 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    A warm bright light caught his eye: something glowing on the ground, half-hidden by snow and underbrush. The shape resolved as he drew nearer, and then he realized what it was, but he didn’t believe it. He prodded it with one foot, digging it up from the snow. A feather, shining, made of flame.

    “Firebird,” Zhenya whispered, although there was no such thing; those were only stories.

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    10 Jul 2026

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    The locker room chatter started up almost at once, providing a screen of background noise. Zhenya sat down beside the ghost. “I’m captain. Evgeni Malkin.”

    “Sidney Crosby,” the ghost said. He didn’t offer his hand, which made Zhenya think he had been dead for a while, long enough to shed the ingrained habits of the living. “I’m, uh. Is it really 2018?”

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    06 Jul 2026