#oops typo

loooooook. i am a person who genuinely thought mike was queer. literally until the last moments. i do understand this sentiment, but sometimes you have to use a bit of critical thinking in order to at least try and understand. to try and reevaluate, if not for your own interpretation then to at least know where you are diverging from canon. this is something @fleetwood-will especially has made some great posts about.

there are many moments that don’t make much sense to me. but to act like there is genuinely no alternative explanation for any of those things is a bit disingenuous. obviously straight mike will be confusing if, like me, you have spent several years defending the opposite interpretation. you can kind of get sucked into looking at things through a certain lens. but once you accept that the creators of stranger things DO have coincidences and DO make mistakes, and that actors DO act poorly and have bad chemistry, it explains A LOT. it doesn’t even take that much rationalisation from that perspective. there are always alternative explanations. to argue otherwise i just think is a bit narrow minded.

the thing is, you aren’t obligated to engage in that kind of analysis if you don’t enjoy it. personally i’m at a point where i prefer to move onto enjoying fanon and sticking with my queer mike interpretation rather than rationalising why he is or isn’t canonically straight.

the truth is, his straightness is pretty straightforward (lol) and it takes seconds to be like ‘you know what, the duffers probably were not observant enough to pick up on the ‘queer coding’ they unintentionally created, and even so, they probably didn’t care enough to rectify it’ and then move on to enjoying the ship or the version of the character YOU prefer. really, if mike was supposed to be queer we would know that flat out. you can be incredulous and you can question that, but to deny it wholly is just stubborn and kind of annoying.

Having a cosy wooden cabin to retreat to every spring break was great, amazing even, what wasn’t quite as amazing was having to clean up about a year’s worth of dust each and every time I arrived. It wasn’t dauntingly large, about 400 square meters, that was the cabin itself, the land itself was... a few acres, I forget how large exactly, it’s not like my name’s on the deed, the cabin’s my grandparents’, but as it’s rather a hassle for them to drive the many dozens of miles between their home and this barren shithole now that they’re in their 90s, I’ve become the only person who spends any time here, I can hardly recall the last time anyone even visited, I believe my cousin visited 2 years ago, but it could be possible that someone has visited since, in my absence.

I had the routine practically figured out by now, get the cleaning stuff from the kitchen, start with the floors, ignore the extra rooms I don’t use, don’t even try to clean the outside, and everything should be done within a couple hours. Thank all Gods and Goddesses that the TV was, somehow, still operational, slow, painfully slow, but operational, as long as you were patient enough, and with my charcuterie board and 6 pack of beer, I had no problem with its’ delays. When I was little, I had this terrible, crippling fear of the dark, I don’t recall how it began, I don’t suppose I need to, children fearing the dark is about as expected as the fork being in the kitchen, though I think it had something to do with the boogeyman, the one from the ghostbusters cartoon series, in any case, I had long since moved on from that phobia, I am more than able to sleep in a dark room now, despite that, when I am scared, it’s as if the terror from my childhood creeps back up to the surface, and compounds how I feel. It was an old cabin, in an isolated area, in the middle of thick woods, half the rooms closed off, not locked, but I had no idea what was within them, and as it was now dark, and of course, the hallway light did not work, I was not going to be opening them just to check for monsters, the scenario was simply perfect for the good old heebie jeebies, I was on edge, my poor eyesight opened the road to many doubts of whether this or that was a mundane item in the distance, or a demon, of course, after every analysis, the testing for demons would come back negative.

Sleeping while constantly afraid of the demons in your closet and beneath your bed, despite how many times you had already checked, was a difficult task, could you imagine how much harder it is when you can hear some fucking latch, connected to god knows which old engine, click click clicking every few seconds, I’m a lazy prick, and I don’t enjoy getting out of bed in the morning, much less in the middle of the night, to go investigate some mechanical issue, but the sound was so persistently annoying that I was simply forced to get my ass out of bed, grab my flash light, and go fix it. I left from the kitchen door, leaving it open but making sure to have the keys on me in case the wind shuts it, I make my way around the house to the wall outside my bedroom, the area that the noise was coming from, and I don’t see any machinery, after a glance I notice that there’s a crack in the side of the house, and the hole created by it was more than big enough for me to get in, it seemed intentional, maybe made to go repair whatever is producing that noise. I kneel down and shine the light into it, and I quickly diagnose the problem, it seemed that there was a bipedal creature, its’ body positioned much like that of a lemur, it was all black, quite scaly, its’ eyes, all 6 of them, were like a jumping spider’s, and its’ teeth were harsh, between them some bones it was crushing up, it had, of course, stopped when I shined my bright light right into its’ face, it growled loudly.