i think it's so crazy that i returned to fandom, specifically tumblr after being away for years because of the overwhelming need to consume byler content, and ever since then basically every other byler shipper i've come across has so so many shared specific interests and experiences just like mine?? and it's like, so incredible to find such a big group of people that has so much in common with you beyond the one reason that brought you together in the first place
i get the feeling that even many many years after st has ended, the byler community will still be so tight and united, and even with people moving onto other interests, it's so likely that those new interests will also be shared
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Cheers hello hi thanks for the tags @aristocratic-otter @martsonmars @facewithoutheart @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @artsyunderstudy @fatalfangirl @basiltonbutliketheherb
I want to write a bunch of witty fanfare for this post but my brain cells are cotton. Cotton is too big. Dandelion fluff maybe. Anyway.
Writing in general has been a bit of a bear lately, but here is some partially-old partially-new fare from the sequel to Brazen.
Under the cut? In case people don’t like fighting. (It’s pretty tame though.)
“Thoughtful of you.”
Simon cuts down at his arm. Baz is still smiling as he deflects it, sidestepping his next attack.
He’s a slippery opponent, Baz is. He doesn’t often go for a test of strength; he twists around Simon, slides just out of his grasp and slips behind him, always keeps him turning, reaching.
But Simon knows him now.
He feigns a swing at his neck, and Baz does what he always does: he ducks. This time, Simon catches him by the shoulder and shoves him down to his knees.
Baz is laughing as he looks up at him, a high flush on his cheeks, chest heaving, and that ache of a pull in Simon’s stomach starts working its way under his ribs. He puts his sword to Baz’s throat.
“You’re lucky you’re pretty, sweetheart.”
We’re all lucky he’s pretty.
Now. I’m just pulling names out of a hat for tags. Dandelion seeds out of my brain, if you will. Any names missed are a testament to my fluffy mental faculties and are in no way a reflection of my love for all of you.
@moodandmist @tea-brigade @sillyunicorn @mostlymaudlin @ivelovedhimthroughworse @kherub @cutestkilla @captain-aralias @prettylightsbigcity @bookish-bogwitch
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The thing I keep coming back to, with all the *gestures expansively* is that real life doesn't have peaceful epilogues.
Every single win has to be defended. Forever. I'm sorry. It sucks. The Nazis lost until they stopped losing. The US had abortion rights, and then 50 years later it didn't. Empires fall, and then they invade other countries again. Oppressive regimes are overthrown and replaced with other oppressive regimes. You will never finish the work etc etc etc. Which is why it's so fucking important to be able to acknowledge and celebrate progress, when it happens. The people who came before you didn't put in all that work for nothing, and you aren't, either. You can't save it all for the Ultimate Victory because there is never going to be an Ultimate Victory. There's no such thing as a time when everything is good, and ours shall not be the commune of Heaven.
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i can't lie to you i loveee bad endings sometimes. what if nothing worked out. what if the characters gave into their worst instincts. what if they became worse. what if there's truly no hope left. what will they do out of desperation? who will they become as their worst selves?
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so in an attempt to actually use positive thinking, anytime i fuck up and my brain reacts as if ive cause a minor apocalyptic event, i compare my fuck up to the 4 minute fuck up committed by the crew of the uss william d porter.
and only today, as i was having to explain what happened to my mom when i was explaining the whole comparison thing, did i realise that most people dont know about it and ive decided that needs to change because its objectively hilarious.
...which is a weird thing to say about an event that occured on a warship in 1943, specifically november 14th.
see the uss william d porter was a fletcher-class destroyer but you dont need to know what that means, just that she had guns that went bang bang and that she was escorting another ship, the uss iowa, to cairo.
while they were on their way there, they performed some gun trials like testing the anti-aircraft guns or the torpedos. and while they were running a torpedo drill, the crew of the porter managed to fire a live torpedo straight at the iowa which you know, in terms of a list of things to do while escorting a ship, shooting a torpedo at them is not on that list.
especially if the president of the united states is on board.
yeah so fdr was on board and the gun trials were actually his idea, and part of the trials was that they were conducted under radio silence.
and that means the crew of the porter couldnt just call the iowa to be like "move out the way, we accidentally shot a torpedo at you."
but they did have signal lamps and you know, the signalman on board was trained to signal this exact kind of message.
...and uh never mind, the signalman did manage to successfully tell the iowa that a torpedo was coming toward them but wasnt as successful when it came to the direction the torpedo was coming from.
not all hope is lost though because the signalman could still use the signal lamp to correct his previous mistake and-, never mind, he announced that the porter was reversing, which she wasnt.
yeah so at catastrophic mistake number 3, they broke radio silence to warn the iowa and she managed to turn out of the way just in time which meant no one got hurt. and even though the inquiry into the incident led to chief torpedoman (fantastic job title btw) lawton dawson being sentences to hard labour, fdr intervened and waved away his sentence, saying it was all an accident.
but yeah, so thats my new measure for "how much did i really fuck up?" and when i compared accidentally picking up a pencil case without a tag on it in wilko, turns out it was a very minor fuck-up. yes, the cashier had to ask another worker to grab a duplicate so they could scan the barcode, but i didnt nearly kill the president during wartime via accidental friendly fire
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