Jaime, about Bart: A few months ago he said it was time to meet my parents. Because that is what people do when a relationship is going well. They meet each other’s parents.
Jaime: And I have never understood that.
Jaime: I have never been with my boyfriend and thought, “oh, babe, tonight is going great. But you know what would make it perfect?”
Jaime: “Alberto and Bianca Reyes!”
Jaime: “Yeaaaah!”
Jaime: “Let’s get them in the mix!”
Jaime: “We’ve been going pretty hot and heavy lately, I think it’s time we bring in two older catholic people!”
fic request-- Bart/Jaime being super nervous and flustered to ask Bart/Jaime to go with him to the school dance? And when they show up to the dance it turns out one of them doesn't know how to dance and is super awkward about it? I don't know something cute and fluffy to cheer us both up :) I love your blog btw! I'm sorry that girl's really mean to you but we have your back!
hey, thanks honey!! <3 here, i hope you like this!!
accepting requests for fic and art!! or send me cute headcanons!!
“And… well, I was wondering if–”
“Yeah?” Sparkling green eyes, a cute, reckless smile. Jaime wonders if Bart Allen knows he looks like an angel, or if it really is just an impossibly miraculous accident. A little tilt of the sophomore’s head, a stray curl falling prettily out of place.
Jaime’s never really had a crush before.
“Well, you know the dance is next weekend?”
“Yeah?”
“And I know this might be kinda weird but if you wanted to, I was gonna ask…”
“Mhm…?”
A flicker of a knowing sparkle in his green eyes. God.
“…If, um? Maybe you wanted to go with me?”
Laughter. Bright and bold and startling, making an already on edge Jaime jump, confused. Dread in his chest– Bart was laughing at him. The idea that he’d ever go to the dance with Jaime was funny to him, this was funny to him, he–
It took Jaime all of three seconds to realize Bart was not laughing. His face was flushed red, visibly embarrassed himself as he whipped around to face the laughing boy behind him, and of their conversation Jaime could make out most.
“Wally–!”
“I told you he’d ask, squirt–”
“You’re so embarrassing! Go back inside, why were you just standing there anyway, you’re so–”
The boy was still blushing when Wally finally left, a hand raking back through his own pretty auburn curls. Green eyes fell back on Jaime.
“I’m so sorry. That’s my cousin. He hates me.”
Jaime couldn’t help the little smile that came across his face at what he assumed to be a joke, and based on the blushing boy’s matching of his smile, it was.
Frazzled. That was the word. Absolutely frazzled, throughout his entire being. That was the word to describe him on the day of the dance.
Bart looked absolutely stunning, of course. Jaime wasn’t sure why he expected any different than better than he could imagine. His curly auburn hair was messy, as always, but in a pretty, stylish way. A red button up that complemented him perfectly, making the stunning green of his eyes look even greener. Making him, already gorgeous, ethereal.
He’d stepped out messing with his cuffs, an adorably frustrated look on his face, before he threw one of those adorable smiles at Jaime and let one hand drop from that task, the other playing absently with a curl. God, he was so cute. Frazzled.
Jaime had had the biggest crush on him for almost a year. The two didn’t talk much, only seeing each other for snippets of the day, in a class or two, in the halls.
“Hey, blue,” He’d said, that cute smile. Jaime remembered confusion.
“Blue?”
“Yeah, ‘s your nickname now,” His head had tilted to the side, in a playful way, spilling a pretty auburn curl into his pretty green eyes as he reached out to tug on Jaime’s blue hoodie, gently, “Cause of this. You’re always wearing it.”
“Oh.”
“We’re friends, aren’t we?”
It was months ago. Every day after, that bright voice calling him from anywhere, “Blue!”
It might as well had been his name.
The day that hoodie had gone missing, he’d spent an entire morning looking for it before reluctantly going to school without it. And when he walked into first block, there was none other than Bart Allen sitting at his desk, his legs up playfully on his desk as he chatted with a mutual friend of theirs. Wearing the damn hoodie.
“You left it yesterday,” He’d explained with a sleepy, playful smile, “I can see why you wear it all the time. It’s soft. And it smells like you.”
He’d been knocked a little dizzy for the rest of the day.
When he’d cried in the hallway and Bart had sat beside him, laid his head on his shoulder, wiped his tears away and called him by his name it felt like he was melting.
Bart held his hand while they went inside, Jaime feeling dizzy. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself, he was so nervous. He wasn’t sure how he could ever do anything that wouldn’t be monumentally disappointing to this beautifully wild boy.
“I can’t dance.”
Jaime wasn’t sure he’d heard him right, at first, until he felt his grip on his hand tighten as those green eyes turned up to meet his.
“…You can’t?”
“No.”
“Really?”
“Yes, blue,” Bart huffed, his eyes turning down almost childishly. Embarrassed? A red tint to his cheeks. Jaime couldn’t believe it.
But it was so cute. Something about this wonderfully wild boy, his friend, his crush, not knowing how to dance was so irresistibly cute that he couldn’t help smiling. He couldn’t help feeling like the two of them would be okay, as he took his date’s hands and led him out.
“I do. I’ll show you, okay?”
“Okay,” Bart replied, a little breathless. Jaime thinking in circles about how astronomically unmatched he was to Bart– Bart was thinking the exact same way, not for the life of him able to understand how such a wonder of a boy would pick him.
Trailing behind him, Bart wonders if Jaime Reyes knows he looks like an angel, or if it really is just an impossibly miraculous accident.
Awww I'm so sorry it was bad :( now it's weekend so treat yourself :) do everything you wanna do and eat everyone you want :) I hope it gets better and you'll be happy *hug*
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FANDOM: Young Justice: Invasion
PAIRING: Bluepulse (Bart Allen/Jaime Reyes)
RATING: Teen
Summary: Bart was eighteen when he started forgetting things.
“Good morning.”
His eyes flicker up. They fall on the boy in front of him– he looks young, he looks… about his own age? His skin is dark, his hair darker, his eyes darker still. He looks gentle, kind, sweet and warm and for some reason meeting his eyes feels like coming home. He’s smiling, lightly, looking at the boy as if he’s trying to study him. He doesn’t mind. Something tells him that happens a lot.
“Good morning,” He returns, softly, his voice coming from his throat lighter than he intended. Sleepier. More gentle, more passive. The boy’s smile grows a little, and it’s contagious– his own grows too, a fraction.
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