#everlastingrandom

[fioblah]

Happie Borthday :0!!!

THANK U !!! love u <3

[asimovsideburns]

Hello, Jon. Apologies for the deception, but our capacity for love increases with each person we cross paths with throughout our lives, and with each moment we spend with those people. But, too often we neglect that part of ourselves in favor of others. And by the time we realize just how important that is, we find ourselves with fewer folks around to practice with. When someone leaves your life, those exits are not made equal. Some are beautiful, poetic, and satisfying. Others are abrupt and unfair. But most are just unremarkable, unintentional, clumsy. Are you my friend?

[barry-j-blupjeans]

69 (nice) for blupjeans, or 94 if that’s already taken :0!

both both both!!

69 (nice). "This is my favorite picture of us."

94. "You don't have to pay me back."

((101 ways to say I love you prompts))

--

"This is my favorite picture of us," Barry says, passing her the polaroid photo. It's got water damage along the edges, probably from when Magnus's had flooded the Starblaster for the second time. Lup takes it and sees herself, and Barry, under a large brown umbrella in a candlelight patio. Neither of them are facing the camera, just smiling at each other, and Lup has to admit, it's a pretty good picture.

"I never paid you back for buying me dessert," Lup says, instead of the sappy stuff she's got floating around her brain.

"You don't have to pay me back!" Barry laughs. He takes the photo back before she can think about it more, but she leans in and wraps her arms around him before he can put it back in the box.

"I don't have to do anything I don't want to do," she says. "But I did promise to pay you back."

"The money there means nothing to us anymore," he says, smiling just like in the picture, still lovestruck. Lup's pretty sure her face looks the same. "If you're going to pay me back, you're gonna have to agree to what I want. And it's not money."

"Uh-huh?" Lup asked, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "And that is?"

Barry kisses her, softly, sincerely, but she's already mentally preparing herself based on the grin that's spreading across his face. He's got something absolutely stupid in mind and she knows it.

"I want the good mac-and-cheese," he says. There it is. Lup laughs, ducking her head down into his neck. "I'm serious, Lup, if you wanna pay me back-"

"You're gonna regret it!" Lup says, still laughing. "You can't have the milk! Or the cheese! You're gonna fuckin' die, babe!"

"It'll be the perfect way to go," Barry argues. He's made this argument several times before. Lup knows the steps to talk him out of it, but-

"I do owe you," she says. "And it's near the end of this cycle."

"Yes," Barry says, not knowing Lup was already planning to switch out every dairy product with something Barry consume without terrible consequences. "I love you so much."

"Love you too, Bar," she says and kisses him again.

[pricklepicklepie]

9 for ask meme?

i know i answered this one but i wanted to put up another sketch bc this one is actually like a good sketch lol

[kravkalackin]

In rereading that blupjeans fake proposal oneshot and the proposal from worst candlenights, I’ve come to the conclusion that Lup is physically incapable of denying a marriage offer from Barry, no matter how silly or serious it is.

this is absolutely correct, and because of this no one knows when Lup and Barry actually got engaged. lup had definitely agreed to marry barry at least seven or eight times before they were even dating and in the middle one particularly rough battle for the light they had merle marry them for the hell of it like that one scene in pirates of the caribbean i think

[desiree-harding]

mayhaps a snippet of reJEANcy Lup and Barry when they were courting and Before Things Went to Shit?

Is this ask like at least a year old? Yes. Am I sorry? Very.  Better late than never??? 😂 Please ignore the fact that the first half of this conversation is missing they’re courting they’re walking in a park in London, that’s all you have to know it’s fine don’t question it.  This is part of my ReJEANcy Au (it’s like jane austen but with taz)

***** “And you have been sent here to marry,” he said. Lup felt her face grow warm at the words, and a bitterness settle in her heart. For though the material circumstances of her situation never escaped her, they had felt of late to be more and more pressing in upon her, confining and stifling her at every step. 

“ I am one and twenty years of age,” she replied, bitterly. “I am a spinster in the making, in their eyes. And my brother, with the decline of our property, will scarcely be able to afford me, in a number of years.” Her chest clenched at the thought of it, her and Taako, her brother ragged and tired even just as a youth, and Lup a burden on him he could not afford, and would not part with.

“Spinsterhood is a harsh fate to have thrust upon you at so young an age.” And Barry’s voice drew her back to the present, the kindness and warmth in it, even with the weight of the subject they were discussing, and it did not escape Lup that such a subject coming from him could only mean one thing, and while her heart wished dearly for it, it frightened her. To be taken from Taako by matrimony would only be a fate slightly less terrible than to be a weight around his neck as their years advanced. 

And yet, Lup had enjoyed such company with Barry in London as she had never before experienced in her life. To imagine that he could walk out of this conversation, to a place where Lup could not follow, and perhaps that upon her journey home, she would not ever see him again, and perhaps exchange only careful letters from afar, as polite acquaintances… surely there could be no joy in that either.

“If I could, I would make my fortune as you do,” she said, wistfully. “Make discoveries that would bear my name for generations to come.”

Mister Bluejeans chuckled.

“There is little money to be made in discovering,” he said wryly. 

“Even so. As it is I am expected to prattle along until I keep house for whichever man deigns to make me an offer.” The forwardness of her words practically made Lup tremble. The distance between her and Barry seemed incredibly vast, and she longed, for a terrible moment, to be more openly his sweetheart, for though everyone in Town seemed to sense their connection, she could not link her arm with his and feel the strength and weight of him beside her, and had to make do with the faint energy of one who is close but yet not close enough to touch. She abruptly missed their first dance, and wished, foolishly, to have taken better advantage of the opportunity to touch him, when she had it.

 “It is a disheartening way to live,” she said, for the truth in it, and desperate, perhaps for comfort, and perhaps for clever mister Bluejeans to read between the lines, to see that he was one of those who could release her from the utter precarity of her circumstances, and more happily, perhaps, than any other soul on earth.

For truly, with him, she thought that perhaps she could be happy. That they could have a companionship in intellect as well as in affection, one that she could hardly have hoped for upon her arrival to London, nearly five months ago now.

“You speak of yourself very meanly, Miss Taaco,” Barry  responded, after a time, and Lup laughed with no humor.

“I speak the truth, meanly or no,” she said. She could not bring herself to brighten her words, the depth of her anxiety dragging her out of levity’s reach.

At this the gentleman paused a long moment, and the sound of birds’ wings and trills, and the footfalls of himself and herself along the path were all that she heard for a long moment. Until he spoke again,

“It would be a foolish person,” he said, “who would know you more than an hour and consider you fit only to keep  house.” He spoke in that stilted way that Lup had come to know well, the words coming slow and soft and in such a manner that she could hardly help but understand, in her deepest heart, that his intention was to tell the absolute truth, as he understood it, without alteration.

“You carry as sharp a wit as any of my colleagues,” he continued, “and as great a natural aptitude for the scientific arts, that you have consistently been a most stimulating conversational partner, these several weeks, without the benefit of the extensive education many others enjoy.” Lup flushed, half in shame at his oblique reference to her lack of fortune and circumstance, her greatest failure in the eyes of Society, and her greatest blemish. But the other half of it was no doubt in the sincerest throes of flattery, that he should speak of her so. 

Mister Bluejeans, she knew now, was not one to embellish needlessly, in his kindness to others. Though as good and generous a man as any she had known, Lup could not imagine that his words were meant only to flatter her unduly. Such counterfeit would not suit Barry, not in any reality she could imagine. 

“There is no lady in all my acquaintance,” he said, soft, “whose mind I admire more. It is a great injustice indeed, that the whole of society should underestimate you, when you are more than worthy of their highest esteem.”

Lup almost could feel tears coming to her eye at his words.

“Mister Bluejeans,” she said, her voice weak, “You are surely too kind.”

“I am exactly as kind as you deserve,” he answered, though Lup thought she could hear perhaps the barest tremor in his voice with the words. And indeed, Lup had hardly ever heard him speak in so forward a manner before, without the barest opportunity for misinterpretation to be found. He was always plain of speech, but never had Lup been on the receiving end of such unmitigated compliments. 

The day was fine, and the sun was shining down upon them, and the season would be over soon, and Lup, for perhaps the first time, allowed in herself a kind of happiness to blossom such as she had never thought she would feel in her life. For this was what it must be like, she thought, to be in love, and she was now certain, loved in return. For surely Barry must love her, with the time that he chose to spend by her side, and with his words, seemingly designed to cut her to the quick and lay her bare. She was certain he could see all of her heart stretched out before him, and she waited to see how he would act upon the information written upon it. 

“Perhaps it need not be necessary,” he said, after another several minutes of silence, “that you be forced into one circumstance or another.” Lup’s heart quickened in her chest, and she could scarcely believe her ears. “Perhaps marriage need not be… so stifling as you imagine it, if your husband were of a mind to pay sufficient respect to your intellectual capabilities alongside the pleasure of your company.”

Lup could hardly breathe. 

“I do not think I should find it stifling at all, mister Bluejeans,” she said, breathless, desperate, “if that were the case.” She swallowed, and wondered how much further she dared go. 

“In fact,” she pushed, “I think I should like that very much.”

And at that, Lup seemed to feel a tension roll off of his shoulders, by proxy, and saw, from the corner of her eye, an almost resolute nod, and he seemed inclined to speak no more, while Lup kept her pace silently beside him, and choked on her own anticipation. 

For surely, his words were as good as a proposal, in everything but name? What else could he be alluding to, with such talk, but a marriage between the two of them? And in a matter of minutes Lup’s life had turned on a dime, and suddenly all of her terror and discomfort and pain seemed they could vanish at a simple word from mister Bluejeans’ lips- 

If only he would ask her. 

But he spoke no more, just then, and Lup’s heart, as they took their turn around the park, slowly returned to a more sedate pace to match her breaths and her steps, and they spent a good fifteen minutes in a not-uncomfortable silence. 

Which, if his words had not before, only sealed Lup’s heart further in its conviction toward the man beside her. 

Here was someone, she thought, who must care for her, to have sought her out. Who must surely understand how perfectly suited he was to her desires for her own future and for companionship in marriage. With whom she could speak and feel at ease, and more, with whom she could be silent and feel no pressure to chatter needlessly and fill the air. 

He was perfect, Lup thought, practically sick with it, and she could not imagine another day without him. 

After a time, their ramble came to an end, and mister Bluejeans turned, as Lup saw the Captain catching up to them, from down the path, where he had been walking a good quarter-mile behind. 

“Miss Taaco,” Barry said, his blue eyes warm behind his spectacles, and weighty, so that Lup hung upon his every word. “Do you think the good captain would permit me to call upon you tomorrow, at his home?”

And Barry had already called to the Captain’s home many times. There could be but one reason why he was asking, as Captain Davenport was the closest thing Lup had to a guardian, and it could not have escaped Barry’s notice that while he had no right to deny any suitor Lup’s hand, Barry could ask for permission to see her, and it would be nearly the same. 

Her heart ached with his gallantry.

“Mister Bluejeans,” she breathed. “The Captain has always said that I am free to extend his invitation to any visitors I please, while I am here in Town.” Yes, he would be happy to have you. “Plus,” she added, “he considers you a friend. I am sure that he would be more than happy to see you call.” He will approve. 

Barry smiled, then, and it nearly killed her, and with a bow, and the barest brush of his lips to the back of her gloved hand, he bid her a farewell until tomorrow, and turned, and left the park, just as the Captain made his way to stand beside her. 

“That’s sorted, then?” he asked, in his brusque way. Lup thought she could feel her hand tingling through her glove, still warm from where Barry’s lips brushed against it. 

“He wishes to call upon the house  tomorrow,” she said faintly, still staring, quite shamelessly, at his retreating form. 

The captain’s hand came up to rest upon her shoulder, and he gave her something of a squeeze and an awkward pat. 

“Congratulations, then, lass,” he said. “I daresay you could not have done any better.” 

And Lup thought that she quite agreed. 

[mcnuggyy]

I didn't have my race in my bio when I first got into fandom. I would make jokes/references to things that I, a Black person would get. But there were occasional responses of, "you shouldn't say or do that because that affects Black people" and I'd be like, "but I am a Black people D:" And I think a lot of it came from other fans of color who always had to be on defensive because of how they'd been treated previously. (1/2)

I think if POC are just doing fandom for fun and not looking to grow exponentially, definitely maintain whatever anonymity possible. After putting my race in the bio, it did feel very exposing. The assumptions stopped, and in their place came asks for my authority on certain topics (that I do not have.) But I prefer that over people defaulting to whiteness in my case, and it’s a relief to have some visibility in communities where other people of color are sparse. (2/2)

Yeah!!! Oh same here!!! I also started out without having any info in my bio about who I was, until I also started making very specific jokes and comments about my experience or started talking about the issues my family faces and kinda had to be like.. oh yeah BY THE WAY, I’m Mex-Am fhrjfrr. And yeah!! I totally agree! If you just plan on being in fandom for fun and just hanging out, then ofc!! Be as anonymous as you would like or need, especially for safety reasons if you’re a minor or a POC! but if you do plan on kind of having a lot of followers, or facilitate a big community, where issues of race might begin to pop up, it may be good to say “hey fyi I’m white” 

But yeah!!! Big agree!!!! 

[mspainttaz]

I associate you with shitposts that lull me into a false sense of security, and then you bust out the art and im like, FUCK

hey joc i need you to know that these two wips are on the same canvas

[i.d. a sketchy kravitz dressed like the onceler with his striped pants, little hat, and a scythe instead of ax slung over his shoulder. 

next to him is a digital painting of peter lukas done in soft greys and purples, his torso fading into the background. red letters have been scribbled over him that say “big boy peter man wip” end i.d]