springblossombloom
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As a child, Till wanted to be an escape artist. He knew that it was his responsibility to take note of every door in a room. Every exit. The truth is all there is: Prevention is often the best cure. Like many before him, Till believes in the butterfly effect. An action as minuscule as the flapping of a tiny butterfly’s wings is capable of causing a typhoon elsewhere. If this is the case, the reverse must also be correct. In the right conditions, a displacement as insignificant as a small breeze lifting a leaf must be capable of preventing disaster elsewhere.
If Till taps with the right rhythm, the atoms scattering across his fingers may then affect the motion of others around themselves. Eventually, they will make the walls and their bookshelves steady. Gifted with these strange powers, Till has to ensure the same.
(Or: The complicated inner workings of Till's OCD, especially when experiencing jealousy.)
Bookmarked by springblossombloom
12 Jul 2026
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Besides, there is a reason only Ivan is able to see the thread. He is certain it is a reminder of his own entrapment. A space fly stuck on wiry silver strings, spun by a spider god. After all, from the minuscule lens of a fly, its predator must be akin to the divine.
It must be Ivan’s emotions that have unspooled and gotten away from the encasement of his own body, shamelessly winding around Till’s forelimbs. He is obliged to keep them in his sight. He cannot so simply escape the consequences of his own heart.
The red is the color spilling from the gash underneath Ivan’s left eye. The red is the color crusted around Till’s knuckles. The red is the color of the petals crushed under his own feet. No different than a shattered star. To live with this constant awareness in his vision is his cross to bear.
(Or: Canon! IvanTill, except there is a red thread connecting the two of them that only Ivan can see.)
Bookmarked by springblossombloom
12 Jul 2026
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“You sound really bothered by it all,” Ivan states, sniffing. Till hopes he can smell the chipped nail polish on himself. He hopes it erases every other scent lingering on Ivan. “I’m not the one with the ego the size of a small planet. You don’t see me writing my name on all my belongings, do you? I don’t believe I have a need for it.”
“You jealous?” Till taunts, losing his grip, and stumbling forward. Their noses brush. For a second, his cheeks feel warmer. He doesn’t know how to make this moment last longer. “Want me to write my name on you, too? All you needed to do was ask, Student Council President.”
“Ah,” Ivan says, rubbing over the back of his neck. He turns his face slightly sideways. “I’m afraid that’s. Not. That won’t be necessary.”
(Or: Till has a habit of writing his name on all that's his. Ivan, naturally, isn't the exception to this rule.)
Bookmarked by springblossombloom
12 Jul 2026
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bare your teeth, hold my name in your mouth by thekweenof
Fandoms: Alien Stage (Web Series)
12 May 2026
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Ivan wakes up in a grass field full of red flowers. The air is warm and dry, and Ivan breathes it in, the ghost of rain still running down his face and the image of Till’s shocked face smeared in his vision. A beautiful blue sky looms overhead.
On his left, a boy with gray hair lays beside him, fast asleep. Ivan thinks surely even death could not be this cruel. Ivan swallows as he skims his fingers over the boy’s face.
“Till.” He says, too softly for anyone to hear.
Till stirs, his eyelids twitch, but he doesn’t wake.
Ah.
Ivan wonders which part of this is the bad dream.
Russian translation available!! -- Translated by Tsukimi_77
Bookmarked by springblossombloom
12 Jul 2026
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Summary
Till reminisces on his past birthdays, his past problems, and then reckons with his perpetual issue of Ivan.
written as a little itty bitty continuation of "the unintended consequences of unclosetting your best friend" but can be read as a standalone
Series
- Part 2 of the longest days in summer
Bookmarked by springblossombloom
11 Jul 2026