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Till bends his head down. Somewhere along the way, his Ivan has vanished. Till sweeps Ivan’s wet hair away from his face, smooths his palm down Ivan’s broad chest to feel for the heartbeat thudding slow but solid there. He’s only trembling slightly. He puts his lips to Ivan’s ear.
‘Get the fuck up, idiot.’
Ivan opens his eyes.
In the end, Ivan comes back to Till in the form of a cryogenic chamber. (Or: Ivan and Till get worse before they get better.)
Bookmarked by Heart_Cake
07 Apr 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
The exact level of toxicity i like in my ships
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wide awake before I found you (this must be my dream) by Ouchie_Ouchie
Fandoms: Alien Stage (Web Series)
07 Feb 2026
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Ivan inevitably found himself standing in front of his puzzle, leaning slightly to get a better view of the boy’s face. It was the first time Ivan had ever gotten to see a black eye so close.
“Did you win or lose?” were the first words out of Ivan’s mouth.
The boy was so absentminded that he had flinched back at the simple question. For a second his sharp eyes widen before falling into two slits, a glare.
His arms tightened around himself and he huffed out a breath. “What are you talking about?”
Ivan pointed to his own eye, “Your face. Did you win or lose the fight?” His own face didn’t contort the way messy-haired playground boy’s did.
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Or, Ivan learns how to define love.
Bookmarked by Heart_Cake
25 Mar 2026
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Summary
Ten years of marriage will end after nine days. This road trip, booked before this major decision, is the final trip they will take together before they walk their separate paths for good.
Is nine days enough to fix their crumbling relationship, or is the burden of it too much to bear?
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It's Valentine's Day, Ivan's birthday, but for some reason, no one seems to acknowledge that it was his birthday.
Perhaps that's how it usually goes when one turns eighteen as birthdays are childish in nature. And Ivan wasn't looking forward to Till's card at all. The tenth one. -
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Ivan breathes a humorless laugh. "I don't know what it is you want from me."
Till furiously snaps back, "I want you to—" before cutting himself off. He takes a deep breath and relaxes his scrunched-up facial features before continuing, quieter. "I'm your best friend. I find you half passed out in some—fucked up garden that you've been coughing up for a year, and I'm freaking out because I don't know what's going on or—or if you'll be okay, and now that I know you're okay, the doctors are saying they can't let you go because you're too damn sick to be left alone!"
His lower lip quivers ever so slightly. Ivan, for his own sake, unfocuses his eyes until Till is only a shapeless blur of colors in the middle of a sea of hospital white.
"I'm your best friend," the blur repeats, breathlessly. "I want you to fucking say something to me."
Hanahaki disease is, quite famously, a condition born from love. Ivan is convinced that his case is the exception to this rule. And when each of his friends inevitably starts catching on to his quickly deteriorating health, everything goes spinning out of control.

