#Bart the lover | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dumbass-extraordinaire · 2 years

Text

Baby, You’re Like Lightning In A Bottle

Touching Bart is like getting struck by lightning. It’s addictive, and Jaime doesn’t want to stop.

The first time it happens, Jaime brushes it off as a heat-of-the-moment desperation for comfort on Bart’s part.

Not that he can really blame the speedster for being clingy. The battle was intense, and anyone would be shaken up after being shot in the leg. Hell, he’s pretty shaken up by it and he wasn’t even the one who got shot. The loud rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire and Bart’s pained yelp are going to haunt him for a long time.

Luckily, the bullet went straight through, so they don’t have to worry about Bart’s leg healing with the bullet still inside. Apparently that was something that happened to Wally once and it was not fun for anyone involved. Still, Jaime can’t stop himself from sneaking glances at the bloody hole in the leg of Bart’s suit.

They’re sitting in the Bioship, exhausted after a long day of fighting, when Bart drops his head on Jaime’s shoulder and casually takes hold of his hand before passing the fuck out.

Jaime very much does not make an undignified noise of surprise, nor does his brain blue screen (shut up Khaji Da). His face is burning and he’s suddenly ridiculously grateful for the full-body armor.

“Jaime Reyes, you are being ridiculous. The Impulse initiates physical contact with you regularly. There is no reason to react in such a manner,” Khaji Da reprimands him.

“This is different!” he hisses back mentally.

“I do not see how,” Khaji snarks. Its mental voice is as monotone as ever, but Jaime has learned to read between the lines in the years since the scarab fused with his spine. Khaji is definitely being snarky. This motherfucker.

Bart snuffles at his shoulder, snuggling further into Jaime’s side, and the older teen’s internal monologue immediately dissolves into the mental equivalent of a keysmash. He glances at Bart out of the corner of his eye and sucks in a flustered breath. Bart’s delicate cheekbones are smattered with freckles and sunspots, and there’s a smudge of dirt on his chin. He looks so peaceful, and Jaime’s heart suddenly feels like it’s going to overflow. He exhales and looks away, resolutely staring straight ahead, trying to ignore the warmth of Bart’s hand in his own.

Bart’s just being clingy because he got hurt. This isn’t going to happen again.

...

Except it does. It keeps happening, again and again. Bart keeps holding his fucking hand and Jaime’s just about ready to tear his goddamn hair out over it. Maybe this is just a thing in the future? You trust someone, you hold their hand? Maybe the apocalypse makes people clingy; it sure did that to Bart at least. At a loss for this sudden change in Bart’s behavior, he decides to just ask him.

“Why do you keep doing that, ese?” he asks the next time Bart grabs hold of his hand.

“Why do I keep doing what?” Bart looks up at him, too-innocent confusion written all over his face. Dios mio, Jaime cannot deal with his bullshit innocent act right now.

“Hold my hand all the time! Why?!”

Bart shrinks in on himself, “Because I want to...? Do you not want me to?”

Mierda, now Jaime feels like he’s just kicked a puppy or something, “No, it’s fine.”

The smile Bart gives him could outshine the fucking sun. And it is. It’s fine. It’s more than fine, actually. Jaime actually really likes it when Bart holds his hand, to Khaji Da’s endless amusement. Bart’s hands are warm and dry, all calloused palms and nails bitten short. Bart bites his nails when he’s nervous, Jaime’s noticed. It shouldn’t be as endearing as it is. Jaime even starts to reach for Bart, initiating contact. Bart is so nonchalant about the whole thing that Jaime feels stupid for freaking out in the first place. It’s innocent and comforting and honestly just really really nice.

Unfortunately, he also forgets that not everyone sees it that way.

“Hey, Reyes! I didn’t know you were a fucking fag!”

Jaime freezes, panic rooting him in place. Shit shit shit shit fuck shit. He’s so stupid, holding Bart’s hand like this in public in goddamn El Paso, Texas. He’s been hanging out with the Team so much that he’s forgotten the unspoken rules of being a queer kid in the South. He rips his hand out of Bart’s and runs like a coward.

“Blue!” Bart is speeding after him, and Jaime could never hope to outrun a speedster even on the best of days but fuck if he isn’t trying right now. “Blue, Jaime, wait!”

Jaime doesn’t stop, he just keeps going until he gets to the edge of town and even then he doesn’t stop, he just keeps running out into the desert.

“Jaime Reyes,” Khaji Da intones as he runs, “You are being ridiculous. Your combat skills are far superior to the average human adolescent. You have nothing to fear from that boy.” Figures the alien scarab wouldn’t understand what a hate crime is, Madre de Dios.

“Jaime! Jaime stop!” Bart grabs his wrist, yanking him to a stand-still.

“The Impulse is attacking!” Khaji Da hisses.

“Shut the fuck up for once you stupid insect,” he snarls back. Khaji Da beeps affrontedly at him but stays quiet.

Bart is still gripping his wrist like a vice and Jaime can’t find it in himself to pull away. “C’mon, Blue. Talk to me,” Bart pleads. His eyes are wide and sincere and Jaime folds like a house of cards.

“He saw us holding hands,” he blurts out.

Bart looks confused, “We hold hands in front of the Team all the time, dude.”

“This is different,” Jaime tells him. “Not everyone is like the Team, ese.”

“Well, no doi! We’re a team of superheroes, Blue.”

“Not what I meant, hermano,” Jaime sighs. “Not everyone would be okay with the two of us holding hands.”

Bart still looks confused, “But why?”

“Because we’re both guys, Bart, and this is Texas.”

“So what?” Bart says, and Jaime is abruptly reminded that Bart is from the future. Goddammit.

“Do you seriously not know what homophobia is?”

Bart cocks his head, “Well, I know that homo means same and phobia means fear of, but I’m guessing that’s not what you mean.”

Jaime laughs, “I forget how much of a nerd you are sometimes,” he says fondly.

Then his expression sours, “No, homophobia is hatred against gay people. That guy back there thought we were dating, so he called me a slur. People get beaten up or killed all the time just because they aren’t straight.” Jaime feels stiff, like he’s reciting from a book, but he doesn’t know how else to explain something that’s just a fact of life for most people.

Bart’s shoulders tense, his frame sharp and rigid. “What the fuck is wrong with people?!” he seethes, enraged.

Jaime startles at the intensity of Bart’s anger, instinctively taking a step back from the waves of rage rolling off of him. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Bart this pissed off before. The speedster is literally vibrating with anger and his fists are clenched.

“Bart?” Jaime asks tentatively, “You okay?”

“No I am not fucking okay!” Bart snaps, wheeling around to face him, “I just found out that this time period is full of bigoted assholes!” Bart sniffles and wipes angrily at his eyes.

Oh. Oh shit.

“Hang on, are you gay?” Jaime blurts out.

Bart slumps, anger draining away. He sniffles and shrugs. “Surprise?” he says wetly.

“Oh,” Jaime says dumbly, even though he’s the one who asked.

“I do not understand your species’ obsession with the gender of one’s mate. Even your human concept of gender is flawed and arbitrary at best,” Khaji Da sniffs.

“Not the time, mijo,” he chides.

Bart’s shoulders are tense once more, and Jaime belatedly realizes that he’s just been standing there silently for the past minute. “Sorry,” Jaime says, not really sure what he’s apologizing for, “That’s cool with me, hermano.”

Bart’s eyes flicker to him, “Really?”

Jaime nods, “Yeah, I mean I’d be a hypocrite not to be.” Abort, abort, abort! He’s never told anyone that he’s bisexual, not even Paco and Brenda and they’re his oldest friends.

Barts eyes widen, “You too?”

Bart looks so hopeful that Jaime can’t bring himself to lie. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, “Uh, yeah. I’m bi.”

Bart grins, “Totally crash,” he says, and the knot in Jaime’s chest loosens. It’s good, they’re good. In a moment of bravery, Jaime grabs Bart’s hand. Bart makes a soft, surprised sound but doesn’t pull away.

They’re gonna be okay.

...

For the most part, things stay the same. Bart still steals Jaime’s Chicken Whizeez and drags him out of bed at ungodly hours of the night to go racing in the desert. They still hold hands, though lately Bart’s been a bit more cautious about doing it in public and Jaime isn’t sure why Bart’s new-found hesitance makes his heart ache as much as it does.

Things stay the same, but there is an air of tension between them; like the smell of ozone before a storm, like they’re both waiting for something to happen. Like they’re waiting for the storm to break.

...

It’s raining when it happens. It’s days like this when Jaime’s especially grateful for the Blue Beetle’s armor. While everyone else gets soaked, he stays nice and dry in his suit. Not that he’ll stay that way once the mission’s over; there’s a non-zero chance that Bart will tackle him as soon as he de-armors back at the Watchtower and they’ll both end up soaked, courtesy of Bart, but it’s the thought that counts.

Jaime smiles slightly at the thought of Bart’s starfish hugs. For such a skinny guy, he’s surprisingly wiry. And dios mio those legs...

“Jaime Reyes,” Khaji Da snaps at him, “Cease this foolishness at once!”

Jaime rolls his eyes, “It’s fine, there’s no one here.” The warehouse is abandoned, with no sign of the smugglers carrying the stolen Reach tech.

He’s on perimeter duty for this mission, mostly because he’s the only one who doesn’t complain about not getting any action. Jaime doesn’t particularly enjoy fighting, never has, but he’s not about to turn away from a chance to help people.

Just to be sure, Jaime scans for heat signatures in the trees. Khaji Da reports an anomaly 500 feet to the right. Could be nothing, but it’s best to check it out, just in case.

Jaime moves to investigate the anomaly, but before he can get very far a high-pitched whine fills the air and a weight slams into his back, sending him flying. Khaji Da shrieks, its pain sending jolts of agony up and down Jaime’s spine. The crackle of electricity is deafening as his whole body convulses, the rain sizzling when it hits his armor. The scarab gives one last cry of agony, a sound that rips through Jaime’s brain like a knife and leaves him seeing stars, before retracting the armor and going unnervingly silent.

Jaime gasps for air, trying to focus through the haze of pain, “Khaji Da?”

Nothing. His head feels empty, with no sign of the scarab’s presence anywhere.

He tries again, “Khaji Da, mijo, answer me!”

Again, he gets no answer. For the first time in years, he’s alone and it scares the hell out of him.

Footsteps echo through the fog in his head from somewhere off to his right. The anomaly. Jaime tries to get up, but freezes at the feeling of a blade against the back of his neck.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you,” a deep voice purrs. “Wouldn’t want you to get hurt before the fun begins, now would we?” Something slams into the back of Jaime’s head, and everything goes dark.

...

Jaime wakes up shirtless and chained to a wall. What the fuck, he thinks vaguely. He’s cold and wet and he feels like he just went ten rounds with Beast Boy’s elephant form.

“Well, well, well,” a masculine voice drawls, “look who’s finally awake.”

Jaime’s blood runs cold. The mission. The anomaly. Khaji Da. With an enormous amount of effort, Jaime lifts his head and looks for the source of the voice. When his vision finally focuses, he almost passes back out because that’s motherfucking Deathstroke the Terminator smirking at him and cleaning his nails with a goddamn knife.

Deathstroke saunters up to him, “Now, what should we try first, hmm?”

Jaime tries to armor up, but only gets a jolt of pain down his spine that leaves him gasping for breath. Khaji Da is still silent, but Jaime thinks he can feel the barest hint of its presence. He grits his teeth. This is going to suck so bad.

Deathstroke flips the knife he was using to clean his nails around and uses the flat of the blade to lift Jaime’s chin, “Any suggestions, bug boy?”

In a moment of brave stupidity, Jaime spits, “You could go fuck yourself, pendejo.” He’s proud of himself for keeping his voice steady, but the feeling doesn’t last very long.

Deathstroke tilts his head and moves the knife so it’s almost piercing Jaime’s eye. Jaime is unable to stope himself from flinching. The mercenary smiles, “Not so tough without that armor, are you, boy?”

Slowly, Deathstroke moves the knife away from his eye and down his face. With a quick, precise motion, he flicks the knife across Jaime’s cheek, drawing blood. Jaime grits his teeth. It stings, but he’s had worse from running around fighting bad guys with the Team. He can handle this.

Deathstroke chuckles, “Trying to be brave? That’s cute. I’m just warming up.”

He flicks the knife across Jaime’s cheek again. Then he traces the knife across the bridge of his nose, leaving a deeper cut that bleeds sluggishly and hurts like a bitch. Jaime keeps his mouth shut, not wanting to give the mercenary the satisfaction of seeing him squirm.

Deathstroke gives him a considering once-over that makes Jaime’s skin crawl. The mercenary grins at Jaime’s discomfort and traces the knife along his cheekbone before taking a step back. Against his will, Jaime visibly relaxes at the distance between him and his captor. Deathstroke’s grin turns ugly. Then he clocks Jaime across the face.

Jaime’s head snaps to the side with the force of the blow and he actually sees stars. Before today he thought that was just an expression, but apparently not. He gasps and tries to focus, only for Deathstroke to hit him again from the other side. Jaime feels his nose crack and he tastes blood. His jaw is throbbing and he’s starting to see double, so he’s almost relieved when Deathstroke picks up the knife again. Almost.

Deathstroke get uncomfortably close, so that they’re nearly nose to nose, and says, “Now that I’m done warming up, let’s get to the real fun.” He slashes the knife across Jaime’s chest in a single, bloody arc.

Jaime grits his teeth, but he’s unable to stop a choked whimper from escaping his throat. Tears blur in his eyes. Seeing this, Deathstroke grins and slashes at his chest again. Then he reels back and slams his fist into Jaime’s stomach once, twice, three times.

Jaime gasps and wheezes, trying to breath through the pain as bile rises in his throat. His torso feels like it’s on fire and the cuts on his face sting from the salt in his tears.

“Well, kid, this has been fun, but my employer payed me to kill one of you brats and I’m getting bored so I think I’ll just slit your throat and let your little friends find your corpse,” Deathstroke drawls, grabbing another knife from his belt.

Panic floods Jaime’s veins. He can’t die. He can’t do that to his family, to his friends, to Bart. He struggles weakly against the handcuffs, but without his armor he’s just a normal kid. He can’t do shit. Frustration and fear squeeze squeeze metal bands around his heart. Fuck. He’s going to die and Khaji Da is going to die with him. Lo siento, he thinks distantly, and closes his eyes.

But the kiss of the knife never comes. Instead, a familiar rush of wind howls in his ears. When he opens his eyes, Jaime sees the lightning-wreathed form of Bart in all his speedster glory standing over the bloodied unmoving body of Deathstroke. Bart is incandescent and literally glowing with rage, and in that moment he’s the most beautiful thing Jaime’s ever seen.

Faster than his eyes can track him, Bart zips over to him. “Ohmygodohmygodyourfaceyou’rebleeding,” he gasps, cradling Jaime’s face in his hands. His eyes are wide and teary.

Jaime feels dizzy with relief, “Bart?”

“Yeahit’smeohmygodI’mgonnakillhimhowdarehe,” Bart is talking too fast for Jaime to catch anything, hands blurring as they fly all over his body, checking his injuries.

“Slow down, I can’ understan’ you,” he slurs.

Bart swallows, “Sorry,” he says wetly. His hands come back up to gently cup Jaime’s face, “I got you, Blue,” he says softly.

Jaime nods. Bart does something too fast for him to see and suddenly he’s out of the cuffs. He slumps against his friend, and Bart lowers them both to the ground.

Jaime feels shaky and exhausted. He leans against Bart, and the speedster wraps his arms around Jaime tightly. His fingers brush the scarab on Jaime’s back, and Jaime hisses as pain jolts down his spine.

Bart pulls away and manuevers so he can see Jaime’s back. “What the fuck,” he hisses angrily. “There’s something on the scarab,” he says. He leans in, his bangs brushing Jaime’s shoulder blades, “It looks like an emp.”

Ah. So that’s why he couldn’t armor up. “Can you ge’ it off?” he asks.

“I can try,” he says, “But, Jaime, this- it’s gonna be painful.” Bart’s voice shakes.

“Do it,” he says, “I trust you.”

Bart’s fingers touch his back and Jaime screams, back arching as jolts of pain shoot through him. It only lasts for a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity to Jaime, his vision whiting out from the pain. Then, as quickly as it came, the pain is gone.

“Jaime Reyes,” Khaji Da’s presence is uncharacteristcally weak, but it’s there. Jaime sobs in relief and collapses back against Bart, who wraps shaking arms around him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and muttered apologies into his hair.

...

They’re still huddled together on the floor of the warehouse when the rest of the Team finds them. Miss Martian’s psychic presence is gentle, but Jaime still flinches. He’s pretty out of it by this point, dizzy with adrenaline and blood loss.

Someone yelps, “Holy shit, is that Deathstroke?” Large hands are suddenly gripping him under the arms, and he panics.

He tries to move, but Bart just shushes him and rubs circles into his shoulder, “Hey, Jaime it’s okay. You’re okay.” He slumps against Bart, exhausted.

Bart says something, and the hands disappear. Jaime doesn’t remember much else, and he passes out before they reach the Bioship.

...

Jaime wakes up to the sound of a heart monitor beeping and the familiar presence of Khaji Da in the back of his head. He blinks, taking in his surroundings. He’s in the Watchtower’s medbay, and the last thing he remembers is...

Fuck, Deathstroke!

Jaime flails around, panic seizing his body. The monitor is going crazy, only adding to his panic.

“Jaime Reyes, cease this display,” Khaji Da commands. It’s voice is gentler than Jaime’s ever felt it. “We are not in danger. The Impulse subdued the Deathstroke and rescued us.”

Jaime goes limp. That’s right, Bart came for him. He takes a shaky breath. Suddenly, tears prick at his eyes and his breath hitches. Mierda, he was almost... Deathstroke almost... He scrubs at his face, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. He’s fine. He’s alive, Bart got him. He’s safe.

Speaking of Bart, Jaime realizes that the speedster is passed out next to him in a hospital chair, resting his head on the edge of Jaime’s bed. Something in Jaime settles at the site of his best friend. He’s okay. He’s okay. Just to reassure himself, Jaime reaches out and grabs Bart’s hand from where it rests on the bed, squeezing it.

Bart’s voice is rough with sleep, “Jaime?” He blinks, relief painting his face golden, “Jaime, you’re awake!” Bart launches himself at Jaime, clutching him tight.

The force of the hug knocks Jaime back into his pillows and he laughs wetly. They cling to each other like they’re the only two people left in the world. Bart’s shoulders start to shake, and then they’re both crying. Jaime buries his face in Bart’s hair, breathing in the familiar scent of salt and ozone. He’s fucking alive.

Bart pulls back slightly, looking up at Jaime with wide hazel eyes. Shakily, Jaime rests his forehead against Bart’s and closes his eyes, revelling in the contact. They stay like that for what feels like forever, just drinking each other in.

Jaime opens his eyes, and his hands come up to cup Bart’s cheeks, “Gracias, chiquito,” he says, “Gracias, gracias, gracias.”

Bart’s eyes are wide and shiny as the flicker down to Jaime’s lips and back up to his eyes. Jaime feels his face heat up and he thinks, I could kiss him. Then he thinks, Eh, fuck it, and leans in.

Bart’s lips are warm and slightly chapped. He inhales sharply against Jaime’s lips and tilts his head. Their noses bump and it’s a little wet and a little awkward and it’s perfect. Jaime’s hands are still on Bart’s cheeks and he runs a thumb over Bart’s cheekbone and thinks, te amo, te amo, te amo.

108 notes · View notes

stevebuscemieyes · 7 months

Text

The Simpsons:

Clown Without Pity - Treehouse of Horror III, 1992

Homer brings home a cursed Krusty the Clown doll as a gift for Bart's birthday. Whilst the doll treats Bart well, it makes Homer's life a living hell, trying to kill him and enact other such inconveniences.

9 notes · View notes

bluejaysandblackbats · 16 hours

Text

Human Cannery Co.

Fandom: YJ98, Superfam, Flashfam, DC Comics

Summary: Conner is faced with a dilemma when Bart's clone shows up at his apartment asking for help.

Chapters: 1/?

Characters: Conner Kent, Thaddeus Thawne, Bart Allen, Tim Drake, Cassie Sandsmark, Clark Kent

Relationships: KonThad

Additional Tags: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Thad Thawne Redemption Fic, Clone 4 Clone, Developing Friendships, Angst, First Kiss, Roommates, Canon Divergent AU

Chapter One: Ferris Wheel Prologue

He wanted to go on the Ferris wheel last, so he could see the whole carnival as the lights went down. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I felt more human around another clone than I'd ever felt in my whole life. We spent half the night eating state fair food, playing carnival games, and talking. The lights from the wheel reflected blue and green on our faces as we slowly made our way to the top, and he started to whisper something and faltered. "You're smiling," Thad whispered. I turned to him, and his eyes were closed as if he were asleep.

"How—?"

"I had a good feeling... But I'm still afraid to ask," Thad mumbled. I wanted to reach for his hand but couldn't risk not knowing. I had to hear Thad's question. I had to know if he had second thoughts.

I chewed my lip and knitted my brows together with worry. "You should ask me," I replied softly.

"Did I—? Did I make you smile?" Thad asked. It was an innocent question. The kind of question that made my cheeks rosy.

I was careful not to chuckle. Besides, it wasn't funny. I took the tip of my nose and nudged Thad's cheek. He looked so beautiful under the lights. I wanted him to open his eyes and look at me. Really look at me. He opened his eyes, and we stayed in that moment, locked in eye contact until I could work up the courage to kiss him. He kissed me, and it was clumsy at first. His lips crashed against mine, and we bumped noses. I think it hurt him more than it would've hurt me. He pulled away and tried to apologize. I couldn't help but lean in before he could say something else. I couldn't stop smiling as our lips touched, and he giggled. I reached for his cheek with my eyes closed. His lips tasted like his orange lip oil. I grabbed his hand and looked ahead at the rest of the carnival. "You make me smile even when I don't think I can," I whispered. I rubbed circles into the back of his hand with my thumb.

I could hear the lights shutting off for the other carnival rides nearby. "I don't want it to be over," Thad whispered. I didn't say anything because I felt the same way. It felt like goodbye.

Eventually, we had to get off the Ferris wheel and the last carnival games packed up for the night. I walked to the park holding Thad's hand, and we sat down for a while. "That was my first kiss," Thad whispered. I frowned. "What's wrong?"

I could tell he'd never kissed anyone, but I didn't mind. "Nothing, I was thinking... I hope it won't be your last," I whispered.

In twenty-four hours, I would have to prove Thad's rehabilitation in front of my friends, our families, and their colleagues. I would have to dissect my friendship with him in front of everyone. Every sweet little detail, every private thought. It felt like an intrusion, but they allowed me secrecy for only so long. Bart didn't even know Thad had been living with me for the past three months. He'd be furious. Everyone would think I betrayed them, and Thad would feel just as violated as I did. I couldn't shake that thought. As clones, we didn't get the luxury of privacy. Born in labs, developed in tubes, created for purposes with the expectation that we reject individuality. I would have to make a sales pitch for his life. It wasn't fair.

A few months ago, I wouldn't have cared. I didn't care about Thad back then. Hell, I didn't even like him. I would've thrown him to the wolves and thought it was the right thing to do. It wasn't my place to be self-righteous or callous, though. I did the kind thing because he begged me. He had to make a case for himself. That's where things get confusing. No one knew he was with me, let alone in the twenty-first century. He showed up one morning, sitting on my kitchen counter, eating my canned goods, and asking me not to pound his face in. Tall order. I heard him out, and he explained that he'd figured out how to save Bart's dad and aunt. He told me how he executed his plan and where to find them. I almost didn't believe him, but he swore his goal wasn't for recognition or retribution.

Thad was sincere and almost in tears as he told me the amount of planning he had to go through to save them. He had to snatch them from what appeared to be existence and place them in a pocket dimension until he could find somewhere to put them that wouldn't damage time. Thad had to let Bart become a hero and Jenni too. He gave me a date and a location, and when I asked him why he wanted my help, he told me that I was Bart's best friend. I believed him.

After I talked to the League, the Titans, and my friends, I would have to slip away to retrieve Mr. Allen and Mrs. Ognats. It was a lot of pressure for one person to be under, but I was honored that someone thought I was Bart's closest friend. Maybe it was a shallow appeal to my ego, but I took it at face value.

I returned to the present and glanced at Thad, but he was fast asleep. I sighed and carried him home on my back. I'd miss him. I never thought I would've enjoyed the space he occupied so much. If they didn't believe Thad was redeemed, I'd never wake up to his presence again. It was as simple as that. I would be alone in my apartment, surrounded by nothing but my memories of him. It wasn't fair.

I took off his shoes and coat and tucked him into his bed. I couldn't sleep. I went over every nice thing I could possibly say about Thad. I wanted to help him because he deserved it, not simply because I had a crush on him. I knew Thad was good. I only had to prove that to everyone else.

I pored over my cue cards and notes as if I were going to a business meeting. It sucked. "Okay... He's attentive," I read in a whisper. Thad woke up in the middle of the night and peeked over my shoulder.

"These are all nice things... You have nice things to say about me?" Thad asked. I nodded and invited him to sit with me.

"I've got tons of nice things to say about you... This is all for tomorrow," I explained, "I'm just contemplating whether or not I should bring you or have you stay here."

"It's my trial. Isn't it? Shouldn't I be there?" Thad asked. I didn't want to subject him to that if I didn't have to. "I'm not gonna let you go by yourself."

Thad laid his head on my shoulder, and I kissed his cheek. "I can handle it... Thad, I don't know if I want you to hear all they've gotta say-."

He took some of my index cards and read over them. "Nothing I haven't heard before... But this-. No one's ever talked about me the way you do," Thad whispered, "I wanna be there to hear you talk about me." I grinned.

"Or I can say it all now," I offered. Thad chuckled.

"Do you really like me? I mean, really like me?" Thad questioned.

"Of course, I really like you," I answered, "I don't go around kissing whatever pretty face I see. I only kiss people I have feelings for." I paused and fact-checked myself. "Yeah! I only kiss people I have serious feelings for. Flirting's a little different... But I digress." Thad grinned, and I brushed his chin with my knuckle.

"No matter what happens tomorrow, I'm glad we kissed," Thad whispered, "Don't put too much pressure on yourself to fight for me. You gave me everything I wanted from you and then some... I'm beyond grateful. Thank you."

Thad was thanking me. I never expected him to say the words out loud. I had to fight for him. I had to show everyone how much he'd changed and grown. He deserved my best efforts. And I wasn't ready to let him go.

3 notes · View notes

ebookporn · 9 months

Text

The untold story of California’s most iconic outdoor bookshop

by Rachel Schnalzer Stewart

It’s the open-air bookshelves and palm trees standing sentry in the courtyard.

It’s the inventory of more than 100,000 books, including rare finds such as a first American edition of Jane Austen’s “Northanger Abbey,”

It’s the Instagram-famous cats that have dwelled at the shop through the years.

It’s the long-standing traditions, like selling some books on the honor system.

For decades, the unique charms of Bart’s Books have beckoned literature lovers from far and wide to the quiet corner of Matilija and Canada streets in Ojai.

“A hitchhiker once came in and said he found us from a Bart’s bookmark someone gave him in the Midwest,” Jack Randolph, a longtime worker at the bookshop, told The Times in 2004.

Over the years, the outdoor bookstore — think: rows of bookshelves covered by tin roofing and surrounded by lush greenery — has become a fixture on lists such as “The Most Beautiful Bookstores in the World” and “Bookstores Every Book Lover Must Visit in Their Lifetime.”

#bookstores #booksellers #book lovers #bart's books #california landmarks #book tumblr #vacation bucketlist

5 notes · View notes

azol-otl · 1 year

Text

Not Reverse Robins or Scrambled Birds but a secret third thing: A Step to the Left.

Not Dick > Jason > Tim > Steph > Damian,

but Jason > Tim > Steph > Damian > Dick*.

But not only them. Every sidekick with a legacy name gets shifted one spot. (No I’m not counting the Golden Age because I’m not combing through that ).

This means that Jason’s Titans team is him, Mia (Speedy), Jackson (Aqualad), Cassie (Wonder Girl), and Bart (Impulse but y’know he was KF II in the comics).

The NTT team including Starfire, Changeling, Raven, and Cyborg stays the same since they’re the only ones with those names. Cass gets lumped in here because Jason actually wants to do college/is becoming disillusioned about cape life and the idea of Kori learning Cass's body language is too good to pass up.

Tim gets one (1) cape friend (because Jason only got one) and it’s Zachary Zatara because it has to be a d-lister who deals with that disaster Teen Titans era.

Stephanie gets Jon (Superboy), Yara (Wonder Girl II now), and Irey (Because guess what it’s Impulse on the team and not KF which means we get Impulse II). Secret, Cissie, Anita, Slobo etc. all stay the same.

Damian doesn’t get anyone until he becomes Batgirl.

Duke literally gets Damian’s exact canon team but it’s Kon instead of Jon and probably won’t end with them committing war crimes.

If the character in that placement dies in canon then the new character in that placement also dies (i.e. Jason dies so Tim will die/ Kon dies so Jon will die).

But there will be changes because these are different characters so not all of them would react the same.

For example, Jason and Cass are the first Robin and Batgirl, but Cass becomes Nightwing while Jason becomes Oracle because I feel like Jason generally fits Barbara’s character better than Cass does (which is a fucking shame because Oracle being someone named Cassandra should be a no brainer but yeah).

Or how Barbara should be Batgirl number three, but it’s actually Damian because Cass would see their similarities between them and offer him Batgirl (which he refuses at first but after his disastrous run as Robin he sees how Batgirl would fit his strengths better).

Also I refuse to believe that Jason and Cass would let Dick out as Robin so young so he’s benched until later and his place is taken up by Duke and instead of Leviathan it’s Gnomon.

#I actually have a lot of thoughts about this but I didn't want to word vomit it all up like I normally do #No lie Damian becoming Batgirl III was not planned but because it started off with Cass it honestly felt right #So now him and Stephanie parallel each other so much more than I planned with the whole 3 identities cycle of Original > R > BG> OG #Also Robins 1 3 and 5 (the ones who were actually focused on for a time) are all Gotham natives with strong ties to the people #So that feels right #Also also Mia and Jason both being on the same team and having similar traumas while comics were finally starting to tackle these things #Tim has to deal with all the shit Jason did including starting off as a Blonde Jason clone (hey Timmy Todd)#Being victim blamed for his death for nearly 20 years and brought back as a villain #Then left with writers who hate him and made him ugly *and* stupid #then left with Lobdell and having the fans of his teammates blame him and his fans for things that they had no control over #other notes I didn't put in include Cass's cover is that she's Jason's cousin via Willis who was adopted and it turns out to be true #Stephanie 'Ambiguously Gay' Brown with her team full of Women who can crush her like a bug #Cass 'Are you sure she's straight' Wayne and her Gal Pal Koriand'r #Jason and Bart's wild 50 years where they surprise everyone including the writers and editors #since none of their love interests stuck but the chemistry they had with each other was off the charts #so their friendship read more as a slow-burn annoyances to friends to lovers that was totally on purpose guys and became canon p52 #like right before the reboot because the writer was like "Fuck it we're rebooting anyways!#if you feel like it's unfair that Tim and Damian gets no friends remember that I didn't shift teams at all only the people in them #so they get dealt Jason and Stephanie's canon hands #Don't come at me with 'uhm Robin is DICK'S nam'e' that retcon happened 50 years after the character #I can do the exact same with any character #great another essay in the tags #azol's posts

15 notes · View notes