Fantasy
Imaginative scenarios, supernatural encounters, dream worlds
42 stories
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—but you didn't mention the scarring on the back of his thighs
The camera doesn’t just take what you give it; it demands the parts you’ve spent a decade trying to bury.
"I Thought You Said You Knew How to Handle a Blade"
The flour on her neck looked like a dusting of California ash, the kind that settles after a wildfire has taken the ridge.
Rime
The silence in this room is a character you didn't cast, but it’s the one stealing every single scene we have together.
October 14th, 8:12 PM
The air between the stacks didn't just smell like dust and old glue; it tasted like the static before a West Texas thunderstorm.
Cabin 4 at the Silver Lake Trailhead
She’s watching me the way a beat reporter watches a city councilman about to commit perjury—with a terrifying amount of focused, predatory patience.
Could You Even Tell Which Face Was Mine?
His thumb hooked into the waistband of my slacks, a motion as deliberate as a signature on a closing document.
A Heavy Iron Gate
Malachi’s thumb was stained purple, the juice of the grape looking too much like a bruise as he pressed it against the hollow of my throat.
"I Suspect Your Motives Are Even Filthier Than This Champagne"
She was a walking litigation risk, draped in enough midnight-blue silk to bankroll a small revolution and smelling of cold rain.
Keep the Fire High
The wind outside was screaming like a downed elk, but inside, the only sound was the heavy, rhythmic thud of Julian’s heart against my ear.
The Back Booth at The Onyx
She looked at me like I was a ribeye and she’d been on a juice cleanse for a month. I knew better, but God, I didn't care.
Turn the Deadbolt
Her breath on my collarbone was a localized weather pattern, a warm front moving against the stagnant chill of the hallway.
Did You Really Think the Rain Would Wash Away Your Scent?
The humidity has turned his hair into a riot of damp curls, and I have never wanted to fix a man’s alignment more.