foreverfreak
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Novelist Dreams (i miss you, come home) by Duckyshipss
Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
08 Jan 2026
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Summary
Mike’s breath hitched at the sight in front him.
William Byers stood on the porch outside his home, face flushed, eyes red and frantic.
Mike’s heart crushed, his chest squeezing painfully. “will? i- what are you doing here?” he had asked but interrupted himself, stepping out of the way. “come in, its freezing out there out.” he fretted.
he grabbed a towel from the small closet close by. he wrapped his friend up in it, worried. not only was it winter but it was raining outside too, which meant will was soaked head to toe.
Will didn’t say anything, just looked at Mike like his entire world had came down.
Mike guided William to the couch. “Will? hey, its okay,” he reassured, doubling the layers of towels.
it was quiet for a moment, mike not pressing the issues.
“the book was about us? right? the new one you just wrote?” Mike looked up, blanching at Will’s question.
OR:
mike gets invited to do a interview with Micheal Silverblatt at the Bookworm about his newest book, he admits that it based off his personal experience. Will pays a friend a visit in a poorly thought-out haze of desperation.
Bookmarked by foreverfreak
08 Jan 2026
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Just for a second, I remembered myself by Romanoff_mylove
Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
17 Jan 2026
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Summary
Mike has finally made it as an author. But writing about your own past can get complicated, especially when fans start to draw conclusions that point Mike in the direction of the person he's been writing about all along.
And living life is hard. Especially when you're doing it all on your own. But grief and love are a lot more similar than you might realise. They both tend to wake us up from the monotony of our lives.
OR: Mike has a horrible time, which somewhere along the way turns into a wonderful time.
//Updates every evening GMT, tags updated as the story goes on.//
Bookmarked by foreverfreak
03 Jan 2026
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okay so are the curtains blue for a reason or what (this is a metaphor) by sunflower_J
Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
28 Dec 2025
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Summary
Now, someone walked into the room. A boy, awkwardly standing at the side of his bed, looking over him worriedly. His hair was brown and scruffy, and he had big baby doe eyes and a yellow-and-blue horizontally-striped shirt like a cartoon character. The window was lighting him up like he was important to Mike’s narrative. The curtains are blue, thought Mike, this boy is light. I love metaphors. Maybe he was high on the pain meds. Upon seeing him, Mike felt a great affection, a great peace. Plus, he had long eyelashes. Mike almost giggled to himself. He was definitely a little high.
“Hi.” breathed Mike.
“Hi.” he said, hesitating.
“We’re friends?” Mike asked hopefully.
Or: During the Party's final battle with Vecna, Mike is gravely injured and loses his memories. He wakes up in a hospital only remembering a handful of inconsequential little things, like how much he loves a boy who seems like light.
Bookmarked by foreverfreak
03 Jan 2026
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A Puzzle Worth Solving by DoomScroll77
Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Manga), 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime)
01 May 2025
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Summary
If Satoru trained—if he honed this ability to its absolute limits—what was stopping him from detecting the cursed miasma in Suguru’s body? From pulling it into himself, dragging it out like poison from a wound? And sure, that would leave him infected, but so what? He could handle it. He knew he could.
Or Satoru realises his best friend's state is a result of his technique and decides to take matters into his own hands, and Suguru doesn't have to know anything about it.
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Summary
The colour of his blood has always been nothing more than a passing thought, now that he thinks about it. The stinging pain blossoms in cosmos petals up and down his arm, but he doesn’t dare look. Satoru has never seen the colour of his own blood before, but that hasn’t mattered to him until now. Because whenever he asks his parents, or the servants that hurry down the labyrinthine hallways he used to wander upon as a child — before his days are to be spent confined to the grand dojo with its four wooden walls — the answer has always been the same.
“You are a god, Satoru. What does a god bleed?”
“Ichor,” is the answer he recites from memory, mechanical and monotone every time.
“What is the colour of ichor?” they ask, visages twisting and turning into a blur. It is a routine they regularly indulge in, just to satiate the curiosity of the Gojo heir. Lest he smite down each and every one of them with the clear, cosmic blue that mirrored the infinity of his eyes.
“Gold.”
“Then, you have your answer.”
or: a 5+1 of satoru's god complex.