#and all of them read take your GODDAMN garbage out PROPERLY and DO NOT FEED BEARS

[battle-of-alberta]

so i have some Vibes from travelling to Banff and Jasper over the years that I feel like need justification and BOY are the municipal and tourism sites validating a lot of those vibes, one of which is that Banff feels like it was engineered as a resort town from the ground up and Jasper feels like a place people actually live in.

Banff sites: if you want to live here, good luck! you will suffer horribly, you will make sacrifices, and your entire life must be dedicated to serving the whims of tourists so long as it does not interfere with conservation

Jasper: ya i just sort of accidentally ended up here and why not try it? if you forget to leave it’s whatever. bring your dog please.

[yikesharringrove]

His Fault.

Thank you @thinger-strang for the commission! 💕

Read on Ao3

Steve took Max first, grabbing her around the knees and lifting.

He didn’t know which kid was which, just picked them up and shoved them through the hole in the ground.

No thoughts in his head besides getting the kids to safety.

He was still dizzy from the fight, from Max’s wild driving, from being thrown into low oxygen conditions.

He grabbed Dustin.

The last kid to get through.

There was a rumble.

The ground shook.

And Steve stared death right in its face.

A pack of demodogs, heading right for them.

He grabbed Dustin, thought maybe, maybe he could shield him.

If this kid dies, it’s all my fault.

But the ‘dogs passed them by.

On their way to protect from El.

Because their plan didn’t work. Their carefully crafted idea to help El was bullshit.

He pushed Dustin up to safety.

He had brought these kids down here for no reason.

They had all gotten hurt for no reason.

All because of him.

-

Steve’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel.

He was trying to get himself to get up, get out of the car.

Staring through the windshield at the small service.

Barb’s funeral.

The girl that died right outside his house. The girl who died in his pool.

The girl he killed.

By being too preoccupied with Nancy. By being too much of a stupid fucking jock.

It’s all his fault.

He got out of the car, stayed mostly to himself throughout the service.

He hugged Barb’s parents afterwards, offered his condolences.

He got the feeling that they never really liked him.

That’s okay. He doesn't really blame them.

And if they knew, if they knew what he did to their Barb-

They would do more than just not like him.

He spent the rest of the day in bed, thoughts of your fault your fault your fault whipping through his brain.

He killed Barb.

-

Steve was trying to think quickly.

It was a little tricky, what with the pounding in his head, the hits he was taking right to the gut.

He needed to somehow talk his way out of this.

Which sucked because talking has never been his strong point.

But he brought Robin into all of this. He had let Erica climb through those vents to get them into the elevator. He had helped Dustin suss out what the message meant.

Actually, he hadn’t.

He had been too fucking stupid to help with that.

No.

He had just encouraged the translation that was happening around him.

Had just walked three people right into the clutches of the Upside Down, and these violent goddamn Russians, and-

That one hurt.

He woke up sometime later to Robin yelling.

“Hey, will you stop yelling?”

“Steve! Oh my God! Steve!”

She sounded, actually relieved.

“Are you okay?”

-

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

Robin was sitting next to him, both wrapped in thick blankets.

They had their own ambulance, Nancy and Jonathan in the one next door.

He had watched them take Billy off on a gurney, watched them slam a defibrillator to his body until his heart started beating again, watched them load him into the back of an ambulance, and take him off to the hospital.

The adrenaline, the heavy drugs, it was all out of his system.

And he was crashing.

“I shouldn’t have roped you into this. I shouldn’t have talked Dustin into translating the tape, I shouldn’t have-”

“Okay, Dingus. Let’s get some things straight. I’m pretty sure Dustin talked you into the translations. I don’t know if you’d be able to talk Dustin into anything. And you didn’t rope me into shit.”

“I mean, I mean with the Upside Down. This whole fucking conspiracy. You deserved to go your whole damn life without knowing any of this.”

“But Steve, I know about it now. The milk has been spilled. So stop crying.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Yes, it is.

-

“Hi, welcome to Family- Nancy?”

Nancy had stopped in the doorway, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“Steve. I didn’t know you were working here.”

“Yeah. You know, with the mall being all, burnt down. And stuff.” She nodded slowly, stock still in the doorway. “Can I help you find something?”

“No. Thanks. I’m just browsing.”

“Well, uh, let me know if you need help. Or ask Robin, maybe. She’s better with the recommends.” Nancy seemed to startle, stepping into the store properly.

“Thanks, Steve.” He smiled tightly at her.

They really hadn’t talked since breaking up.

Of course, they’d spoken in the summer, but that was less exchanging pleasantries, more how do we stop the giant fleshy monster that’s trying to take over the whole world?

Which isn’t quite the same.

She browsed through the aisles, Steve doodling on the carbon pad next to the register.

She smiled tightly at him, a few tapes in hand.

“So, uh, how are you?” They hadn’t spoken since that night. Since he wandered over to her ambulance, checking in with her and Jonathan.

“I’m okay. Just working and stuff. Obviously.”

“And how’s Billy?”

“Managing. He’s in all kindsa therapy and stuff now.”

“That’s, that’s good.” She was all stiff as he handed her her change. “It’s good to see you, Steve.”

“Yeah, Nancy. Yeah, you too.”

He hated how shitty and awkward that had been.

Hated that she was the person he felt closest to for the better part of a year, and now they’re stuck with light conversation and forced smiles.

He pushed her so hard.

Always poking and poking.

Always too clingy, always too emotional, not emotional enough. Too insensitive, or just too much work.

He doesn’t know how anyone puts up with him.

-

“Hey,” Billy smiled softly at him. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, now that my little nurse is here.” Steve rolled his eyes, smiling back as he sat on the bed next to Billy.

He had brought him to his house from the military hospital.

Billy still had a long road of healing. His scars were pulled together, and the wounds were closed, but everything was still pretty rough.

“Can I get you anything?” Billy reached over for him.

His hands were scarred and rough, and he was still trying to regain feeling, the nerves having suffered far too much damage.

“Nah. Just sit with me.”

Steve took one of his hands, stretching his hand like the doctor had shown him.

“Have you eaten today?”

“Nah. My stomach’s all outta whack today. Don’t know if I could keep anything down.” Steve furrowed his brows.

“Are you, can I make you something? Soup?”

“Stevie, I’m okay. One day’s not gonna kill me.” It felt like the bottom dropped out of his stomach. Something must've shown on his face because Billy was trying to sit up. “Sorry, that was a shitty joke.”

“No, I just-”

“It’s okay. Sorry.” Steve tried to gather himself.

“Don’t like jokes about you dying. Thought you were dead for, for like a week, you know. Before they told us you were stable.”

“Baby, it’s alright. I know it was hard on you.” Steve blinked rapidly.

“But I mean, it’s like, youwere the one, the one in the hospital I shouldn’t,” he stood up, Billy wincing as the bed shifted. “I’m gonna make you something.”

He was holding back tears as he spread peanut butter and jelly onto saltine crackers.

Billy had the best luck keeping it down when he felt sick.

He felt like shit whenever he did that. Got all mopey on Billy.

Billy was the one trying not to die in a hospital bed. Steve was just, doing what Steve does.

Making everything about himself.

He brought Billy the plate, kneeling next to him in bed.

“You okay?” Steve just shook his head, plastering on a nice smile for Billy.

“I’m fine, Bill. Just try to eat? For me?”

Billy managed three of the crackers before he heaved into the garbage bin placed next to the bed.

Steve felt like shit.

Billy’s core muscles were still healing, and throwing up only made him sore, made him tired and in pain.

“Billy, I’m sorry.”

He shouldn’t have made Billy eat. Shouldn’t have tried to make himself feel better by force-feeding Billy while he felt bad.

When he finally stopped, Steve helped him to the bathroom to wash out his mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

“Steve, it’s not your fault.”

“But you said you didn’t feel good.”

“You’re just trying to take care of me.”

Keyword here being trying.

Trying and failing at taking care of Billy.

-

“Steve, are you busy tonight?” Dustin had thrown open the door to Family Video stomping inside.

“I mean, no but I thought, isn’t tonight your big tournament?”

Dustin sighed dramatically.

“The arcade is closed.”

Dustin had been saving up for months, using the end of the summer to mow neighbors’ lawns.

Steve had even paid him to mow his own lawn.

He and the gang were going to rage for hours, Dustin organizing a special secret prize for whoever got the highest cumulative score.

He had put so much thought into everything, had been so excited.

And the arcade was closed.

“Can I talk to Keith?”

“Be my guest.”

Dustin pushed into the backroom.

Steve could hear his voice, could hear him arguing with Keith.

He came back out, Keith following behind.

“Harrington, I told you, customers aren’t allowed in the back.” He pointed to the Employees Only sign on the door. “Can you even read?” Keith rolled his eyes. Steve studied his shoes.

“And Henderson, I told you, the arcade is closed for renovations. A pipe burst in the storeroom.” Dustin Huffed. “Just, rent a movie or something. But you know, don’t ask for Harrington’s recommendation.”

Keith laughed to himself as he retreated to the back.

“Like I would ask you for a recommendation. I know what kind of movies you like.” Steve forced a smile at him.

“Sorry about your game night.” Dustin shrugged.

“I thought it’d be fun. We haven’t played DnD since Will moved. It just feels wrong without him, I guess. I thought this could bring us back to the fun spirit.”

“It’s a good idea. I’m sorry you’re gonna have to postpone.”

Steve just kinda lived with a big ol’ bit in his stomach these days.

But every time something like this happened, something where his friend was sad, and Steve was completely useless to help him, the pit seemed to grow.

He wonders what happens when the pit gets too big.

-

Billy stretched his arms above his head, wincing slightly.

“You okay?”

Billy blew out a breath, rubbing his chest.

“Yeah. Just cold. It hurts.” They were standing outside, waiting for the kids to be finished with school.

Steve drove Dustin and Max home, usually brought Billy along with him.

Neil had been one of the flayed, the only casualty Billy said he didn’t feel bad for.

So Max had moved with her mom into a tiny two-bedroom house.

Billy was still staying with Steve for the time being.

“Oh! I got a sweater in my trunk.” Steve ran around to the back of the car, unlocking the trunk and digging through.

He kept his car pretty clean, just his bat, some jumper cables, and a go-bag.

So he should see the sweater right away.

But he didn’t.

He frantically shifted everything around.

“No, no.”

The sweater wasn’t there.

“Fuck are you, are you serious?”

He genuinely could cry.

Billy was blowing into his hands, rubbing them together when Steve slumped back over to him.

“Billy, I’m sorry. It’s not in there.” Billy squinted at him.

“That’s okay.”

“I thought it was, but I must’ve taken it out, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Just, you know, come here and make it up to me.” He had a lazy smile on his face. “Come keep me warm.”

Steve wrapped himself around Billy, burying his face in his neck.

“I wish I could keep you warmer. I wish I had that sweater.”

“Baby, I’m okay. Just achy.”

Steve made sure to turn up the heat full blast when they got back in, the kids in the backseat.

-

“Fuck!”

The bottom of the box had given out, tapes crashing to the tiled floor.

He had been on his way to reshelve everything, after spending all day in the back rewinding.

But here he was, checking each plastic tape for cracks as he tried to find something else to put them in.

“Jesus Christ, Harrington.”

Ah, yes. That’s what he needs right now. Keith standing over him while he cleaned up the mess of tapes.

“What’d you do now?”

“The box, it just fell apart.”

“You know, Robin really went out on a limb to you to get this job.” Keith was standing over him, staring down at Steve sill kneeling on the ground. “Maybe I should just fire you both.”

“Wait, no!”

Steve’s heart was in his throat.

It felt like he was gonna choke on it.

“You, you can’t, I don’t care if you hate me, okay, just, just don’t fire Robin!”

Keith loved to do this. Dangle his measly power as manager over Steve.

Robin said it was some kind of revenge fantasy for how shitty Steve was to him in high school.

Steve just figures he deserves it.

Bottom of the food chain now. That’s where he is.

The guy that thought he was the hottest shit to walk the Earth. The guy that barely graduated. The guy that had to linger around his hometown. The guy has no life. The guy that has no future.

“Why not? She vouched for you.” Keith was eating a pack of M&Ms, crunching each one loudly between his teeth.

“Just, just don’t.” Steve felt like he could cry.

“Then get this cleaned up, and I’ll consider letting you both stay.”

Steve just nodded.

He didn’t think his voice would work without cracking all over the place.

He found a crate in the stockroom, stacking the tapes as quickly as he could.

He liked reshelving.

The organization system made sense, and he could do it easily without having to know anything about the movies, without having to know anything besides the alphabet, and the genre sticker each tape had.

Robin was better with customers.

Better at making change and recommending movies. Better at talking to people without sounding like an idiot.

But he finished reshelving, and had to retreat behind the counter.

“You’re being weird today.”

Steve had zoned out, staring through the front windows.

“Sorry.”

“Bad night?” he just nodded slowly. He didn’t want to tell her about Keith’s little threat. She would just go on a rampage. Probably yell at him a lot. And if Steve being a fuck up didn’t get her fired, defending him for sure would. Plus, it’s not like it’s a lie. Most nights are bad. “Steve, are you sure you’re okay? It feels like,” she glanced around. “It feels like you’re getting, like, worse.”

“Sorry.” She furrowed her brows.

“That’s not something you need to apologize for, you know that, right? I’m just worried about you.”

“Sorry.” Her face pinched up even more.

“Steve.”

“Yeah, I, just you know. Not sleeping much.”

“I could come over? You said it’s better when there’s sound in your house. I can stomp around for a while.” He huffed a laugh through his nose, giving her the biggest smile he could muster.

“That’s okay. I’m managing, Rob.” She raised one eyebrow. “And besides, I, uh, I won’t be home tonight.”

She made a face at him, pursing her lips so she didn’t smile.

Billy had gotten his own apartment with the money the government had given him, a little thank you for your discretion gift when he was released from the hospital.

He had spent nearly a month in a coma, a month in which Steve had only left his room a handful of times. After waking up, delirious, and in pain, he had spent the next six months in heavy rehabilitation, in daily therapy, both mental and physical, in which Steve practically lived at the hospital with him.

They had bonded more than Robin could ever know, both boys spilling everything to one another, every dark thought, every bad memory.

Long story short, they were inseparable.

“Then have a fun night. And talk to Billy. Tell him you’re struggling.”

“I’m not-”

She stomped her foot, giving him a stern look.

“Yeah, okay.”

-

“Shit.”

Steve knew he had a key to Billy’s apartment.

But it wasn’t on his key ring.

“Are you kidding me?” He knocked on the door.

It took Billy a few minutes to come get him.

“I’m sorry, I, I lost my key.” Billy looked tired . It was Thursday. Billy was a stockboy at Meldvald’s on Thursdays. His doctor said getting a job would be nice, that it would help him rejoin society, make him feel good to support himself, all this shit.

Mostly, it just made Billy’s sore.

“It’s okay.”

“No, but, it’s not on my ring! I don’t know where it fell off, it could be anywhere, you might have to change the locks or-”

“Steve! It’s fine. Just get in here.”

Steve snapped his jaw closed. Billy shuffled back to the couch, groaning as he sat down slowly.

“Can I get you something? Have you eaten? I can rub your back if-”

“Harrington, just come sit with me.” Billy was giving him a little half-smile.

Steve stumbled over to the couch, and tucked himself right under Billy’s arm.

“What are we watching?”

“Some soap. There’s been a marathon all evening. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen.” Steve leaned his head against Billy.

He had no clue what was going on. Had a question on the tip of his tongue, ready to ask about the plot points, the characters.

But he’s bothered Billy enough tonight, making him get up to open the door, always, always bothering-

“Hey, where’d you go?” Billy was stroking one rough hand through his hair.

“Nowhere.”

“Robin called me from the video store.” Steve sighed, burying his face into Billy’s neck. “We’re worried about you.”

“Don’t be. I’m okay.”

“Yeah, you’re always okay.” He said it like he was mad, like he was frustrated with Steve.

He pulled back, sliding to the other end of the couch.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry.” Billy was staring blankly at him. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

“I’m not mad. What are you even-” he cut himself off. “Steve, talk to me. You’re getting, distant.”

“I’m-”

“Please stop apologizing.”

Steve swallowed thickly.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you. You’re slipping through my fingers, and I don’t know how to help you.”

“I-” Steve’s throat was closing up. “I don’t know what to do.”

Billy shifted stiffly, reaching out for Steve’s hand.

“Talk to me, Baby. You know I’ll listen.”

“I, uh, I just.” His jaw was moving, but he couldn’t form any words.

Billy took his hands, pulling him gently.

Steve let himself be tugged, let himself fall into Billy’s lap.

“It’s all my fault.”

“What’s your fault?”

“All of it.”

“Can you, maybe elaborate?”

“Everything. It’s all my fault.” His chest felt pulled tight, and he couldn’t fucking breathe. “Everything, everything. My fault.”

Billy had no fucking idea what to do.

Steve was breathing sharply, his eyes squeezed closed.

He had both hands in his hair, pulling roughly.

“Steve, hey.” He took his wrists, trying to stop him. “Steve, I need you to breathe, okay? Can you do that?” Steve shook his head.

“Just, just try to take as deep a breath as you can, okay?”

Billy was trying to remember what his shrink had told him, the tips for dealing with his own panic.

But watching Steve fall apart, well. It was hard for Billy to keep it together.

He sat with Steve, holding his hands until he opened his eyes, until he was breathing without Billy reminding him to do it.

“Steve. Sugar. Talk to me.”

Steve was still slumped over, still had his head in Billy’s lap.

He turned to bury his face in Billy’s thigh.

“Sometimes I feel like the world is crushing me. And I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Can you explain that to me? You said everything was your fault.”

“Like, like Barb. She, it was my fault she died, and my fault the kids almost got hurt in the tunnels, and my fault that Dustin and Robin and Erica got stuck in the lab, and, and, and I’m so bad at taking care of you. I can’t do anything right.”

Billy could feel his tears, wet patches soaking through his sweatpants.

“You do a lot of stuff right!”

“Keith told me he was gonna fire Robin today, because I messed up again.”

“Fuck Keith. No way that creep has firing power. And maybe you should talk to Robin. Or go to your boss about him. He just likes going on a power trip with you.

“And as for, well everything, Pretty Boy, none of that was your fault. Barb was killed by, by a monster-”

“At my house, at my party, in my pool.”

“Still not your fault.”

“I thought she had left, you know? I didn’t know she was out there.”

“That just proves my point! You didn’t know she was out there, you didn’t know what was going to happen. That whole event , it had nothing to do with you. And the kids like, fully kidnapped you to bring you to the tunnels. If anything, that’s my fault for, you know. Doing what I did.”

Billy took a deep breath.

“I know a lot about guilt. I know how it feels like you’re just, you’re drowning. And you’re never gonna get to the surface, but that, that stuff. People make their own choices. You can’t control what other people do, you can just control what you do. And you, you do nothing but good. You just love, and you love, and you love. You always do what you think is best, and that’s what matters.”

“I feel bad all that time. Like, like right now I feel bad because, because of course you feel guilty, and I’m saying shit that doesn’t matter, and my problems they don’t-”

“Don’t you dare say your problems don't matter.” Billy was tangling his fingers through Steve’s hair, playing with it gently. “Your problems matter . They matter to me. It hurts me that you're struggling. It hurts me that I didn’t notice.”

“Billy, it’s not your fault.”

“You say that like it’s so easy. You take my guilt and you ease it. And that’s what I want for you.” Steve wasn’t crying anymore, but he was still curled up on the couch, still had his face pressed against Billy’s leg.

“I don’t know how. I’ve been so thoroughly crushed under all this that I’m scared of what happens if I claw through it all.”

“Maybe you won’t feel like shit all the time.”

“Feeling like shit is the easy part. It’s predictable.”

“I know. It’s safe .”

“Yeah. What do people even think about if they aren’t thinking about all the problems of the people closest to them and finding ways to blame themselves?” Billy laughed at that. Steve could feel his belly moving next to him.

It was a nice moment.

“I don’t know. That’s what movies and books are for. When you’ve got shit else to think about because you’re not trapped under a mountain of guilt.”

“Probably why I’ve read so few books, then.”

“We need to start watching more movies.”

-

“We need to talk about Steve.”

“Hi, Robin. It’s great to see you. How’s your day?” Robin rolled her eyes. She was leaned over the counter at Family Video, flicking through a magazine.

“He had a break down last night.”

“Finally. He’s been hanging on by a thread for weeks,”

“Yeah, try years.” She looked up at him.

“What do you mean?”

“He like, unloaded fully. He still blames himself for the girl that got killed in his backyard.”

“Wait, he thinks that’s his fault?”

“Yeah, and the kids in the tunnels, and also you and Dustin and Erica being brought into the whole mess. And also that he’s bad at taking care of me? Which, don’t know how he got that one. He does a really fucking good job taking care of me.”

“Jesus. He’s like, stressed.”

“To put it lightly.”

“So, what’s up? Where do I come in?”

“I’m planning an evening. A We Love Steve Harrington party.”

“I can be snack duty.” He smiled at her, clapping her on the shoulder. “It just us?”

“Yeah. I figured to leave the kids out of this one.”

“Good choice.”

“Be over at seven.” She nodded once, giving him a two-finger salute.

-

Steve was curled up, Billy spooned up behind him when there was a knock on the door.

“Go get that, will you? I’m all stiff.” Steve turned around, looking at Billy all concerned. “Go on. I’m okay.”

Billy had to shove him away before he finally went to answer the door.

“Oh, Robin, uh, hey.” She pushed one of her shopping bags into his arms.

“I was invited for an evening of bolstering you up.”

Billy came lumbering in, throwing himself down on the couch.

“I, don’t get it.”

“Robin’s here because you need some lovin’.” Steve’s bottom lip wobbled.

“That’s really nice.”

“You deserve it.” Billy was looking at him seriously.

Steve tucked himself into Billy’s side, Robin shoving herself next to him on the little couch.

Billy had pulled out all his lumpy blankets, and they had already torn into a box of cookies.

Steve was all warm.

Curled up in the blankets, watching The Aristocats.

“Thank you, guys. For this. It means a lot.”

“Can it, Dingus. Thomas O’Malley’s gonna sing.”

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

um hi who’s steve moffat??

Oh my goodness. Okay, my sweet summer child, buckle up. I’ll try and keep this short. I assume you’re asking this since I just reblogged that post about Moffat creating the new Dracula show for BBC, so I’ll explain the particulars of why that’s upsetting as well.

So, Steven Moffat is a British television show writer and creator. He created the very popular (and well-done) comedic show Coupling, which was a take on the modern-day dating world and apparently inspired by how Moffat met his wife. He was also a writer on Doctor Who, the long-running British science fiction series, and this is where the fun (note the sarcasm) begins.

See, Moffat wrote some very very very good episodes on Doctor Who. In fact he wrote two of my favorites: the two-parter “The Empty Child”/“The Doctor Dances” (which includes my all-time favorite television moment, “Everybody lives, Rose! Just this once–everybody lives!!!”) and “Blink.” “Blink” is considered one of the best, if not the best, DW episode as it works so damn well and is so well written and ALSO functions very well as a standalone episode. Someone who has never seen a single DW episode could watch “Blink” and enjoy it.

Given Moffat’s good writing chops, everyone was super excited when he became the showrunner for Doctor Who after Russell T. Davies, the original showrunner, left, and when Moffat also announced he was creating Sherlock, a modern-day adaptation of the beloved Sherlock Holmes character.

I will direct you to this highly entertaining video that explains why Moffat’s show running skills and BBC’s Sherlock are, well, garbage.

Please do watch that video when you have the time since it’s fucking hilarious but here’s the gist of it: Moffat relies on building cliffhanger after cliffhanger and never actually delivering any climax, catharsis, or answers to the questions he gives. He makes his shows about one “super special genius” male character whose only function is to be “super special genius” and never actually has any character development and really actually is an asshole to everyone around him. And he writes female characters horribly, Irene Adler just to start. He crams in LGBT+ characters and other such “minority” characters in order to get “woke” and “diversity” points but he doesn’t actually give them any legitimate layers or nuance. The genius straight white male always saves the day and he does it while being a dick to everyone.

Yay.

Moffat’s constant reliance on twist after twist after twist without any character development, conclusion, explanation, or even logic, means that eventually his shows spiral into the absolutely absurd, as happened with season four of Sherlock. I would argue the show went off the rails in season three but that was before I saw it completely jump the shark in season four. Holy shit.

Which brings us to Dracula.

Look, vampires are sexy, I will be the first to admit that. But Dracula himself is not a vampire you want to swoon over. In the original book he is a sexual predator (the passages where he feeds on Mina are particularly disturbing and evocative of rape) who brutally and mercilessly murders people by twisting their spines and bashing their heads in until their brains burst out, sending wolves to tear them to pieces, and ripping their throats out. He literally throws a toddler to three vampires who do something so horrendous to it that Jonathan Harker blocks it from his memory.

Dracula is also, to add to all of this, a metaphor for two things a) the powerful and charismatic but “forbidden” gay relationship/love (and the shame that comes with that because this was the 1800s) and b) the racist/xenophobic fear of the “pure Aryan race” being “corrupted” by the “impure” eastern/non-Aryan bloodline.

Yeah, you heard me. The second one is pretty damn obvious and it’s a real sign of continued xenophobia and racism if you ask me that no adaptation (save for the silent black and white film Dracula: Pages from a Virgin’s Diary) has addressed this issue. Dracula literally says that he will destroy the Western race of heroes “through your women, and through them your children! I shall have them and through them I shall have you!” and basically says yeah I’m gonna rape your wives and they’ll have my children and your pure bloodline will be corrupted. This is far from an uncommon fear. It’s a repeated threat from the non-white villain in racist texts and it’s a common rhetorical trick. You even hear it in historical films when the heroic leader stands up and is like “would you have them kill us and rape our wives?” The fear isn’t just death, it’s that the “oh so pure bloodline” will be corrupted by the “unclean” race mating with the “clean” one.

AND THAT’S IGNORING THE BLATANTLY RACIST STEREOTYPE OF THE ROMANI PEOPLE AS EVIL STOOGES OF DRACULA LIKE WTF STOKER I’M GONNA RAISE YOU FROM THE DEAD JUST SO I CAN KICK YOUR GODDAMN ASS–

*ahem* Anyway.

The first one is also pretty obvious given that the entire first third of the book is Dracula flirting with Jonathan up to and including making innuendos about Jonathan teaching him English by “showing him how to use his tongue” (NO I’M NOT MAKING THIS UP). Most people believe that Dracula was based on Vlad Tepes aka Vlad the Impaler but actually, while Stoker did research on good ol’ Vlad, Dracula was based on a popular actor and close friend of Stoker’s, Henry Irving. Dracula was originally supposed to be a play, written for Irving, with Irving in the title role. When Irving refused, Stoker changed it to a book.

In fact when people who knew the two read the book they all went, “holy shit Dracula is totally Irving and Stoker is totally Jonathan.” Contemporaries noted that the relationship between Irving and Stoker was toxic, with Irving being manipulative and narcissistic, taking advantage of Stoker, while Stoker was too damn in love with Irving to stand up for himself even as he knew that Irving was being an asshole.

SO THAT MEANS WE HAVE: queer subtext, racist subtext, and vampirism as a metaphor for sexual assault.

None of which Moffat has a history of handling well.

It’s a sad tradition in Hollywood to change Dracula into a sexy anti-hero, and to claim that Mina Harker, the heroine of the book who saves everyone’s goddamn bacon, was actually attracted to Dracula and wanted to be with him. Y’know, the man who in the book makes her drink his blood in a way that is explicitly worded to make it sound like she’s forced to give him a blowjob (no seriously reading those passages is genuinely disturbing). Seeing how Moffat treated Sherlock and The Doctor on their respective shows, he’ll probably turn Dracula from a monster that is legitimately scary (because y’know he rapes people) into yet another pale white super special genius Mary goddamn Sue.

Seriously, the next time someone asks me what a Mary Sue is I’m just directing them straight to the Moffat-run seasons of Doctor Who and BBC’s Sherlock.

And given how Moffat handled the character of Irene Adler by turning her from a woman who received the world’s first unsolicited dick pic and was forced to use it to protect herself from persecution by royalty in order to quietly marry the love of her life into a dominatrix whose bisexuality was used as a one-off line to show how “irresistible and sexy” Sherlock is and is beaten by Sherlock, is a villain, not just a villain but the lackey of another villain, and has to be rescued by Sherlock twice instead of being the clever quick-thinking woman who gets one over on him and teaches him not to underestimate women and that he’s not always right…

Yeah. I don’t have high hopes for how Moffat will treat Mina Harker, the meticulous wannabe journalist who loves her friends to death and has a fucking backbone of steel and memorizes train schedules in her spare time like the utter dork she is.

And even if you set all those things aside! Even if you hope that Moffat will do justice to the women in the series, that he’ll properly address the sexual, gay, and racist subtext in Dracula, even if you hope that he won’t make Dracula another annoying can’t-ever-do-anything-wrong-jackass that treats the people around him like shit but we’re supposed to think he’s cool for it and people still somehow inexplicably stick around him and forgive him for it…

EVEN IF YOU HOPE FOR ALL OF THAT

…there is still Moffat’s major storytelling issue which is that he never tells a complete story. He never delivers on any of the promises he makes to the audience. He dangles cliffhangers that promise some big revelation is upcoming, but he never actually makes good on that–he just gives another twist instead, so that you never conclude any story arcs. It’s like listening to a song but having no resolution in the music so it’s just hurting your ears. Moffat is all about sound and fury, about making things look and sound cool, but without giving them any actual substance.

Moffat has done some great writing work, but it was always when someone else was in charge reining him in and forcing him to tell a complete story. He was given carte blanche with Sherlock and look how well that turned out. Season four was so bad people actually wondered if it was a joke. Yeah. Seriously.

So, people are understandably frustrated about this upcoming Dracula adaptation and have zero hope that it will handle any of the characters or the complex issues with any kind of nuance or substance. My personal bet? The women will be treated as props who fawn over Dracula, Dracula himself will be an asshole that we’re supposed to somehow like, his bisexuality will be a throwaway thing and the men who fall for him will behave in stereotypically gay ways and God forbid he actually get a long-lasting substantial relationship with any of them, Van Helsing is gonna be a woman and be either his bitter ex or eventually fall for him, and oh yes the racism/xenophobia in the original text will never be addressed ever.

That, my dear, is Steven Moffat, and that’s why people hate him and aren’t happy about him creating a Dracula television series, bisexual vampires or no.

[woxbirdie]

Honey Oat Sourdough Recipe

well… cat’s out of the bag, I am indeed still alive and around on this goddamn site, so i might as well make some fucking Content in these weird, weird times, so here’s a recipe I sort of accidentally invented for honey oat sourdough

If you want like, regular sourdough, replace your oats with wholemeal or rye and ditch the honey and voila, you have the Food52 Table Loaf that’s my base recipe

Testimonials (there’s only one because due to physical distancing, I cannot feed other people my bread): 

e x t r e m e l y d e l i c i o u s Not too sweet at all Very good with butter Would quite happily absorb an entire loaf The chewy crust is also great And it's not too dense Abd the sourdough flavour is very good 

-- @itsmedontpanic​

Fair warning, for those who have never made sourdough: you will not have bread until the next day. You won’t spend the whole time in the kitchen! Sourdough’s super chill to make, it’s just like, a waiting game.

Asterisks refer to footnotes, but otherwise I have tried to write this so you can follow it linearly without reading through everything in advance. 

Ingredients:

- 60g sourdough starter* - 310g plain flour (or bread flour, if you can find some, which I absolutely cannot at the mo)  - 80g oats, blended until fine-ish - 1tbsp-ish honey - 8g salt - a lot of time at home to monitor the damn thing

Equipment 

since there’s nothing worse than getting halfway through a recipe and going “what the fuck is a banneton”

- big mixing bowl of some variety - waxcloth or plastic wrap and a tea towel you are able to make damp somehow - a cookie-sheet sized surface that can be floured properly (don’t laugh, my kitchen counter is garbage for this and I only recently finally got a big silpat which changed my goddamn life) - preferable, a benchscraper (I don’t own one) or a silicon spatula (I own two of these, this is what I use) although you can probably make do with like, a carefully wielded butter knife - a medium-sized, not-too-shallow bowl that you’re not going to need for 12+ hours, plus another clean linen or cotton tea towel OR a banneton (which is the thing these things are replacing) - enough room in your fridge to hold said bowl for 12+ hours - a sharp, non-serrated knife or clean razor blades - any one of: a Dutch oven, a medium+ sized Pyrex pie dish with a lid, or a second tier to your oven plus a roasting tray - a bread knife. No, i’m not kidding, you really do need a proper one unless you want to tear it apart with your hands which is I guess your choice

Method

1. Mix your starter with 250mL** water, then add your flour, oats, and honey, mix with your hands until it’s a shaggy dough. it’s gonna be sticky, which might suck a bit, but that’s sourdough for u. Cover with waxcloth or? I guess plastic wrap or a damp towel maybe? and let sit for about 20 mins or so 

2. Add the salt and another tablespoon of water and squish through until it’s fairly evenly mixed. Your dough will still be sticky but hopefully a tad less. It should also not be too dense -- it should sort of ooze a little when you pick it up. More on this later. Cover and let sit for half an hour. Don’t stress if it’s still shaggy instead of beautiful and smooth (in fact, with the oats, it’s gonna be lumpy for a While, but don’t stress, it will not be by the end).

3. Time for bulk fermentation! Every half hour to 45mins, wet your hands, slide them under each side of your dough, and pick it up a little. It should stretch (although the parts you’re not holding will probably still stick to the bowl); let it fold around itself, put it down, turn the bowl, and repeat until you’ve picked up everything and it’s dough shaped (it takes me about 4). This step is uncreatively referred to as “stretch and fold”. By the second stretch and fold, the dough should spill slowly over the sides of your hand with gravity if you pick it up; if it doesn’t, add more water, a little at a time, until you get to this stage (and do it early, or you’ll basically have to start bulk fermentation again). 

3b. Allegedly bulk fermentation takes 3 1/2-4 1/2 hours, although it has never in my life taken me less than about 5. Don’t bother timing it; it’s done when air bubbles start becoming obvious just under the surface. At this point, do one final, more gentle kind of stretch and fold (lift the edge and fold it into the middle, instead of stretching the whole dough) so you don’t deflate it. Leave for another half hour or so.

4. Gently turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface (use like, a wet spatula or something to release the sides from the bowl and stop it stretching too much as you do this). Flour your hands and fold the top edge to the middle, then each side, then the bottom, then each corner, then flip the dough over (make sure the surface is still floured) and tuck everything around so it’s a nice little dome. Stick whatever you’ve been using to cover it on top and let it rest until it’s relaxed (10+ minutes). (This is called preshaping.)

5. Flip it back over (learn from my mistakes! Don’t forget to do this!) and shape the dough; you don’t want it to deflate, but you want a bit of tension. You can do this however, but I fold the top down and then do the sides a little like a French braid, then roll the whole thing up from the bottom, fold the sides in, and flip it over. Flour the top thoroughly and then put it SEAM SIDE UP into whatever you’re using as a banneton (proofing basket); before my dad very kindly sent me a proper one for Easter, I was using a linen tea towel in a bowel, and that worked just fine. Cover with a tea towel and then gladwrap, or like, waxcloth seems to do the job alone just fine if you have it. Stick it in the fridge overnight or so (like, you can leave it there for up to 24 hours, it’s sourdough, it’s fine). 

6. Preheat your oven to Real Hot (I use about 230-240C, my dad apparently uses “as hot as his oven will go”?) and remove your dough from the fridge. I let my dough warm up for about an hour (or so) (I have a terrible habit of letting it overproof and having to reshape the dough right before baking, but sourdough seems to be pretty forgiving so this has never been a problem); my dad just puts it straight in, but either way, the dough should pass the poke test, where you poke it gently and the dough springs back a little but retains a little of the indent. Alternatively, does poking it feel like poking a water balloon? If so, you’re fine. 

7. Flour the bottom a little, then flip your dough out onto whatever you’re baking on (see step #8) and score it. Fancy bakers use razor blades; I just use a sort-of-sharp knife. Your scoring doesn’t matter; sometimes I do like, symbols, sometimes I just slash it in a couple of places. Don’t like, saw at it? But I absolutely go back and redo my cuts again; you should find that the cuts open up a little pretty much immediately (and if they don’t, they will not work great as scoring). 

8. So it turns out bread needs like, mad humidity to bake properly and Real Bakers have proper ovens but I have a shitty tiny portable thing and I make it work just fine, so you’ve got some options: 

a) Use a Dutch oven if you have it (I do not)

b) On a second rack of your oven, put a roasting pan half-full of water (I do not have a second tray of my oven)

c) Flip a Pyrex pie dish upside down (I do this) ie use the lid as a baking trap and the pie dish as a lid. 

If you’re doing the pan full of water thing, I can’t help you too much with timing (just check it after like, 35 mins or so? And keep checking?) but for everything else, I keep it in the “““dutch oven””” for 35 mins or so before removing the lid and baking for another 10-15 ish. Note that your oven will be different and also like...I swear baking time changes every time. I’ve never managed to burn it within about 50 mins, though, it’s just sometimes a tad dark (see below. It’s not burned! Just...very well baked.)

9. This is important. This is IMPORTANT. I cannot stress this enough. You cannot cut into this loaf until it’s cooled. I know it’s tempting. I KNOW. Your kitchen smells like fresh bread! It’s warm! It looks so good! Do not do it. The bread may be out of the oven but it’s still cooking! There is steam inside that bread and it needs to STAY THERE to set the damn crumb or you end up with the horrible gummy bread that I made for years before I learned a tiny bit of Bread Science. You are risking like, 2 days’ work for a moment’s satisfaction. Wait until it’s completely cool and then, yes, you can get that bread. 

Footnotes

is it really a sourdough recipe without a ton of fucking footnotes

* let’s talk starter. if you’re already up to speed on sourdough starter, all you need to know is that this 60g should be like, levain at this point i.e. ready to be fed again, not recently fed. 

if you’re brand new to sourdough starter, your first batch will take you about a week to get going***, but it’s very easy and only takes flour and water and the ability to remember to check things every 12 hours; alternatively, my understanding is basically any bakery will just let you have a little of theirs if you ask. 

You only need about 30g of it; feed it 30g of water, 30g of flour, stir it well and wipe the sides down and write the date somewhere on it in whiteboard marker, and you’ve successfully fed your starter. You’ll either want to leave it 12 hours before you use it (use the 60g for the recipe and feed it again with 30g of flour and water), or leave it like, 3 until it’s clearly active, and stick in the fridge until you need it (up to a week); feed it after you’ve pulled out the recipe quantity. You’ll have to feed it once a week regardless of whether you use it; my solution to this is to just make bread every Saturday. I do not trust any bread recipe that requires more than 60g of starter. Like, the reason I made this recipe was I was out of wholemeal and I couldn’t find a single goddamn honey oat sourdough recipe that didn’t require like 4 1/2 cups of starter which is ABSURD; the only time I use more than like, 1/4 cup of starter is if I’m planning to make something that doesn’t require bulk fermentation (like, idk, brownies or crackers or something). also, a lot of people swear by like, organic wholemeal or rye or spelt to feed their starters with but I haven’t seen any of those in shops for like, a month, and I only started my starter about 2 weeks before quarantine happened and didn’t want to commit to $10 for rye, so I can say from experience, you can just use regular old flour (although this might be why my dough takes so long to bulk ferment, probably). 

** ok look, idk the exact quantity of water?? because I don’t use bread flour, which is thirstier than regular flour, so I just know it’s “somewhat less than 300mL” and just deal with it; that said, oats are thirstier than wholewheat. either way, it’s better to err on the side of too little and add more water with the salt, than add too much and agonizingly add a teaspoon of flour every stretch and fold and hope it’s not gonna end up too dry after said flour hydrates. 

*** ok, when I made my own starter, I was following a recipe which I guess assumed I wanted to start a goddamn bakery or something so i burned a lot of flour. you don’t need to do this. add 30g of water to 30g of any kind of non-self-raising flour, cover, note the time, and leave in a warm place for 24 hours. If you’re using a clear jar or something, mark the level with a whiteboard marker; you’ll want to keep an eye on how much it rises. Discard half of it, and add 30g of water and 30g of flour, mix well. Leave for 24 hours. Discard 60g of it. Add 30g of water and 30g of flour, mix well. Leave for 12 hours. Repeat the last three steps until you’ve got something that bubbles appropriately and rises at least 30% within about 5 hours. Ta da! Starter. Many places claim it’s only ready if it doubles in 4 hours. Those places are lying, my bread comes out just fine and my dough’s never doubled; you just want something that’s clearly alive. If you get a thin grey liquid on top, your starter’s just hungry; stir the liquid back in and feed it. (It’ll just make the sourdough flavour stronger, it’s fine.) 

Final notes

Sourdough’s like, super chill and honest to god, my first sourdough bread came out better than any of the yeast breads I’d made over the years. It’s a very forgiving bread! Like, the 30-45 mins for stretch and fold is a guideline I personally forget all the time (I’ll go like, an hour and then go “oh whoops I had to do that” which may ALSO be why bulk fermentation takes me so long). Also if you’re looking for more resources, these YouTube videos here and here taught me a lot about the Bread Science (shout out to my dad, who’s been on the sourdough bandwagon since like, mid last year and got very excited when I joined him and sent me these videos). I know it’s a long time to wait for bread but like, I just do it around whatever else I’m doing (my D&D sessions currently have breaks where I have to go bake the sourdough). Stretch and fold takes like, a minute and a half when you get the hang of it, it’s all very low-stress, there’s no kneading (although I like kneading) so like...have fun. Make brod. Bon appetit.

[sleepymarmot]

Notes I’ve taken during the Double XP weekend and forgot to publish, as usual

self care is staying in Mystery Heroes all day and never worrying about team comp

I love how you learn this game by watching and copying the enemies. I steal all positioning ideas for snipers and turrets from the read team. And reading about counters on the internet is one thing, but personal experience is more memorable. Today I played D.Va a lot and Symmetra (unsurprisingly) always wrecked me, so later when my D.Va met her red team double I switched to Symmetra and we won. I even got a POTG, though it looked unimpressive; I  also learned that the shield generator is awesome on a control map. (Earlier in the day I tried the same with Roadhog, but for some reason it didn’t work. I wonder if it’s just a general lack of skill or there’s some specific mechanic I’m not getting.)

I want to start recording the kill cams when the enemies take advantage of my mistakes in a cool way. Like when my Mei tried to chase after enemy Sombra who lured me right into Bastion’s line of sight. Or when my healer (Zenyatta, maybe Mercy, don’t remember) went through a choke ahead of the team for some reason and an enemy Mei walled me off of them.

After a couple of hours with Symmetra I now learn her teleporter is limited to six people. Whoops... 

We got absolutely demolished by a group of six on Gibraltar. They didn’t even let us out of spawn. I’d never experienced a game like this, it was like playing against aliens from Mars. When our team tried to mimic them next turn, of course someone sneaked out and they won again.

Over the weekend, my playstyle shifted from always “contest the objective!!” to “well let’s hold back and group up. okay it didn’t work. let’s group up? nope again. oh, the timer ran out”. Neither are productive. 

It’s actually one of the reasons I’m getting sick of playing healers. I want to initiate! I want to contest! I want to be! on! the! damn! objective! But how am I suposed to do it with no communication? When I’m a tank there’s at least a hope that when I rush in, the others would follow. (Which can be painful as Rein, because you can’t even turn around to check if they’re really backing you or have scattered elsewhere.) As a healer? Well, maybe Lucio, but I haven’t played him much because I can’t get the hang of wallriding and I need to be near my teammates which is not always possible. It’s so pointless to jump on the payload alone as Mercy. Or for a moment yesterday I pushed the payload as Ana, though it was in Mystery Heroes. Look, as a healer and a sniper, I don’t think I should be alone up here...

Also if I’m the only healer I can’t just switch to try and counter a particularly troublesome enemy. When I’m the only tank it applies too, but to a lesser extent.

Satisfying games I had in the same night:

Riding the payload as Bastion on Dorado attack. Never tried it before. The red team was not prepared. I don’t think the payload was ever deserted.

Tank-to-tank standoff on King’s Row, both attack and defense. I was Orisa, the enemies had Orisa too both times, and D.Va at least once. Stand your ground and spray bullets to your heart’s content. Shout out to the awesome Mercy who made this possible and rezzed me immediately, I think it was a multi rez too.

I got sick of the teams on defense standing too far from the pont, and then letting someone through and trying to rush back before they can capture it but being too late. So I went to Hollywood as Bastion, parked in a corner with my back to the gate and my barrel parallel to the wall with the chokepoint, and could shoot at anyone coming through without even aiming. The other teammates stayed on the point too. Everything went well -- until the enemy D.Va sent her mech over the wall and wiped everyone off the point at once. We couldn’t recover and they won. Now that was a POTG. I really should have expected that, though...

Speaking of D.Va -- I face so many strong ones but my own skills are still garbage :( I can’t even ult properly, like sometimes I try to use boosters but instead explode it immediately with nobody around. And I always get ejected from the mech so soon. I dunno what dark magic Defense Matrix management skills other people have.

Symmetra out-DPSed my Bastion several times and it was bullshit. She jumped around me faster than I could turn. Of course, when I play Symmetra, half of the time the enemies run away too fast and I run after them in a straight line providing an easy target, or they don’t even bother and overpower me without moving.

Me: It’s just cosmetics My obsessive brain: Makes me grind until the last hour of the event in late morning

Seriously it was kind of a hell... I waited for the new week in Arcade to unlock and couldn’t leave until my nine victories. And that night, the final night of the event, I discovered that 3v3 is the most efficient mode. No waiting/setup time, no stupid skirmish. We moved there at the suggestion of a teammate of a particularly torturous game in Total Mayhem that lasted 20 minutes. Zaryas on both sides, ults going off all the time but not killing anyone... 

And when I got all the lootboxes, they didn’t even give me anything but dupes. I had 3245 gold and was faced with a terrible choice: one skin or four dances. I’d wanted Zen and Rein’s dances all this time, Tracer and Sombra and some others are super cute too. But the skins are more prominent, while emotes can only be used occasionally and I might want to replace them on the wheel. Thankfully, I got Symmetra’s skin as loot, so the choice was between Pharah, D.Va and Lucio. I’m so terrible at Pharah I’ve stopped trying, so that skin might have been wasted on me. I looked up D.Va’s voice lines in the new skin and didn’t particularly like them. I like D.Va’s default skin, and theoretically I’d love to get my hands on the Lunar one if it’s ever available again, but I’m indifferent to Lucio’s default and the purchaseable skins are worse. So I was left with the choice between Lucio and four dances. I watched the video with this skin’s alternate songs and spent some time trying to figure out whether I like them or not.

I wasted so much time torturing myself over this I realized it could take less to earn some more gold. So I bought Lucio’s skin and went grinding again. At this point I didn’t particularly care about winning, just getting through the matches for the xp. The first lootbox was kind to me and dropped 50 gold... so I was only 5 gold away from an emote. In sleep-deprived desperation I sat down to grind another level. By the time it was over, I think it was a bit past 10am aka the official ending time. But I got my gold. I bought Zen’s dance, and I was finally free to log off and try to get rid of the adrenaline and finally get some sleep. I’m so sorry, Sweethardt... I wish we could be together :(

I’m still not sure if the Lucio skin was the right decision. The songs are indeed kind of distracting, and the speed one is badly mixed: starts with a new jazzy melody and then for some reason fades into the default beats (of a totally different style). And it bugs me that the hat completely covers his eyes. Ah, well. Any decision would have resulted in buyer’s remorse in this situation.

Highlight of the 3v3 grind session: sleepymarmot gets POTG for sleeping. My Lucio boops Ana, she shoots him with a sleepdart, and that’s all that happens. Entire chat went “wtf lol”. Clearly the game was sending us a message. It’s 7am, you know what’s the best thing to do right now? Going to fucking bed.

I pocketed Pharah a lot in those matches. I feel guilty about letting the third person die... But when my healer instincts got the better of me and I dropped down to feed a red cross, it didn’t end well. Fall off of Pharah once, and without communication, good luck trying to attach yourself to her again... Tbh I wouldn’t like to play this regularly -- it’s not very interesting to literally spend all the time literally riding on one person’s coattails. Though I guess in a normal game the fun is in the jumping back and forth between Pharah and the team -- like in a normal Mercy game but with more flying.

I also played Pharah myself in this duo a couple of times and actually didn’t do badly. I guess it’s easier on these smaller maps

After I wrote this entire post, I discovered that this event, like the free weekend, is still mysteriously active for me hours after the end date. So I went to grind again. Got Tracer’s dance (good), I think McCree’s too (don’t care). And you know what was in the final lootbox, which I opened after the event finally ended? Lucio’s goddamn skin! Of. Course.

I feel seriously burned out after playing so much in a short amount of time, especially because in the final hours I’ve stopped caring about winning at all. I lost concentration so badly -- I didn’t think about my abilities or teamwork or countering enemies, constantly attacked them head on even with characters not meant for that... What if this attitude stays and I won’t be able to play the game normally? What if I just ruined it for myself? Ugh. Why do I always have to be like this.

The best thing about this session was when I accidentally clicked on 1v1 and managed to win 5-1. It was pretty stressful so I went back to 3v3 immediately. But it was really fun to think strategically about hero selection, trying to quickly compute which of the three available characters is not only easiest for me to play, but the strongest against any of them.

Another good moment was in Mystery Heroes, when I got Reaper and on my way to the point was lamenting my inability to play him and the aforemetioned lack of concentration. The point is under attack, I teleport in, kill Zen and two others who were about to get onto it, help kill Winston in the middle of it, overtime runs out, I get POTG. Wat?

One night after playing a lot I had a dream that the Roadhog nerf came through and also changed his name (don’t remember to what) and portrait to an unmasked, civil-looking, clean-shaven 30-40 year old blond white man, and just as I went to see what his skins look like now I woke up

I finished the event at level 89. Considering that I only played during the free weekends and bought the game after the second one, that’s pretty fast leveling up.

I started recording a lot during the weekend, and have several videos in the drafts, but on second thought I don’t think anyone would be interested, there’s nothing remarkable going on in them.