BakaBerry
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Summary
He remembers, eyes squeezed shut against the swell of nausea and vertigo that claws through him, being not-quite-thirteen, and listening eagerly to Mr. Clarke explain the science behind dreams.
“Dreams,” he’d said, “are often seen as these sacred experiences, something that has to have a deeper meaning. We have centuries of examples of dream interpretation, the art of examining commonalities between different dreams to find a single interpretation.”
“The thing is,” he’d continued, “dreams are just your brain’s way of processing and regurgitating information; a fruit-salad of information, so-to-speak. Sure, it can mean something, but it’s more likely to be a random grab-bag of facts and feelings that you’ve come across in life.”
A fruit-salad of information. Here, in the dark bathroom at a little past three in the morning, Mike breathes carefully, and tries to dissect where the supposed ingredients of his fucked-up dream salad actually came from.
Or:
Vecna is weak. Injured. He's still strong enough to hit the Party where it hurts.
Series
- Part 1 of this is where the worlds collide
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“Will…” Mike whines again, his hips twitching as if he wants to grind down, but he knows he’s not allowed to yet.
Will pauses his drawing momentarily to swipe a thumb soothingly over Mike’s waist, pinching a little just to see him squirm, “I’m nearly done.” He promises, his voice a husky rasp, thick with lust.
Mike shivers hard, a whimper rattling from his lips, the skin around his eyes red and moisture shimmering in his eyes. He’s so desperate, but he’ll be good, Will knows.
His drawing isn’t the best. The fine lines are shaky, the shading is off, but given the treat in his lap, Will doesn’t hold the poor quality against himself. It’s not that bad, and he’ll probably end up refining or redoing it later.
It may not be a van-gogh piece, but it captures the supple flesh of Mike’s thighs, folded at the knees and squished against Will’s legs. He draws Mike's lips, plush and glistening, the teary look on his face as desperation builds, and the defined dip of Mike’s waist, his hands bound in string behind his back.
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Or: Will's classmate draws Mike in her sketchbook, and Will gets a little possessive.
Series
- Part 35 of Mike Wheeler suffering
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Summary
Mike was missing again.
Not on purpose – at least, that’s what he would claim when someone inevitably tracked him down, because they would find him, even there, sitting high above Sattler Quarry with his legs dangling over the edge of the cliff he’d jumped from all those years ago. He’d woken up that morning with his bedsheets wrapped around his legs and his skin slick with sweat, the phantom-cold fingers of a nightmare still tangled in the folds of his brain leaving frostbite streaks in their wake as they reluctantly retreated to wait for the next time exhaustion won over his will, and he was on his bike pedaling away from the house as fast as his legs would let him with nothing but the clothes on his back when the sun was still only a thought hovering below the horizon.
It wasn’t like he enjoyed making them worry, but the idea of biking back home felt impossible, and he didn’t trust himself to stand and drag his feet away from the cliff’s edge rather than shuffling the mere few inches further to plummet once again, only this time with no one to magically save him partway down.
OR Will finds Mike on a cliff at the quarry, getting eaten alive by his guilt, and they talk.
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“Woah,” Will whispers to himself incredulously, laughing a little under his breath as he shuffles through the pages of the letter again. He can’t help but admire the smooth, off-white stationery, its pleasant weight in his hands. A serious-looking “MJW” watermark adorns the top of each page, totally at odds with the entertaining missive and its author’s garbled cursive. Will laughs quietly to himself again. What sixteen-year-old boy on earth has monogrammed stationery?
Michael J. Wheeler, apparently. Where did Max find this guy?
Mike Wheeler is insecure, even by normal teenage standards. So when his friend, Max, connects him with her old friend from California, he's surprised by how easily they get along. But as the weeks wear on, their letters grow increasingly personal, and they make plans to embark on a week-long trip, Mike can't let go of one inconvenient, anxiety-inducing thought: What if he wants to be more than friends?
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You know what I do when I'm out of ideas? by Pythoness
Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016), The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch (2019)
25 Jan 2026
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Summary
The most dull man Mike's ever met is one Theodore Decker.
The most annoying man Theodore's ever met is one Mike Wheeler.
Somehow, this ends with everyone thinking their dating and two jealous childhood friends.
Mike just wanted a desk. Theodore wanted cocaine.
Neither get what they want in the end, but they get what they need.