goodbyevincent
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"Who the fuck are you?" Minho asks, voice far too collected for the state he’s currently in. He squints his eyes, leans in a little to take a closer look.
"Uh— You summoned me?"
"I summoned an incubus."
"Right. Yes,” the boy speaks slowly, as if Minho is fucking stupid. “That's me. Hi."
or: things go very bad before going very good
Bookmarked by goodbyevincent
28 Jan 2025
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“Why did Seungcheol buy this nice apartment if not to share it with friends?” Jeonghan asks.
Bookmarked by goodbyevincent
22 Jan 2025
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Jeonghan looks intently at the paperwork, half-finished. Patient: Choi Seungcheol. 178cm. Right-handed. Mentally he adds what he’s learned in the past eight months: Hard-working. Prone to martyrdom and dramatics. The strongest batter on the team since Jung Taekwoon. A weak swimmer, apparently.
Series
- Part 2 of spring poetics
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,562
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 66
- Kudos:
- 449
- Bookmarks:
- 107
- Hits:
- 4,144
Bookmarked by goodbyevincent
18 Jan 2025
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"Hyung," Mingyu says, sounding tired. "He lets you get away with everything. What’s a little more?”
(or: “I got an offer,” Seungcheol tells him. “I leave in two months.”)
Bookmarked by goodbyevincent
12 Jun 2024
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At six, Minghao is Choi Seungcheol on the basketball court. At fifteen, Kwon Soonyoung at the barre. At ten, twenty, thirty, it’s Wen Junhui, Wen Junhui, Wen Junhui.
[translated to Vietnamese/Tiếng Việt]
Bookmarked by goodbyevincent
31 Mar 2024