#anyways i think bart would be max kid but still would treat hal and barry like his grandpas...ermmm this is true..

[flashdoesahundredyarddash]

some people keep saying that bart being hal and barry's child is a bad idea (I mean I really get the idea cuz hal's always away for space missions and barry would end raising him alone for most of the time + hal's commitment issues)

but idk I still can't help myself like It's really cute I like giving my otp a child

😭😭

I LIKE THIS IDEA. Honestly, I feel that as they first start to date, and a good point with Hal's commitment, Hal doesn't exactly see himself as a father? (<- Also I feel this is exactly him though. And not to mention how much I HATEEEEE that they gave HalCarol a kid because none of them would ever actually want a baby because they're so cooped with work and wanting to make it out for each other rather than always forcing themselves to marry, even with Carol wanting to move progressively with a relationship.)

Back to HAL, I mean he's great with taking care of kids and getting along with them, but I don't think he could want kids. This goes with Barry as well (<- They both are deadly afraid of committing to something that means they could lose someone), he's great with goods but he feels he couldn't be a good dad because of Dawn and Don scolding him from the future. Then again if they both had to take care of a kid (such as Bart, which I think is cute but Max is also the caretaker for him ngl... I think they would be great with Wally TOO because of Brave and The Bold shenanigans. One of my favorites <- Hal calling Wally son when he had the green lantern ring :((( )

BUT YES, I think they would be good as caretakers in a way that makes me emotional. Because they would want to try again with what they lacked during their childhood growing up...

[su-majestad]

Trying new styles and references, to match something I wrote...

Max spends his money on a pick up truck. It’s used and the paint is a bit chipped, and if you ever try to picture the word retro in your mind, this is the truck that appears in your mind’s eye. It’s a metallic red color and it’s pretty when it gleams under the sun. The door handles are chromed and the back box of it is big and sturdy. The truck squeaks when you hit the brakes, and the motor rumbles loudly.

Usually Max, Helen, and you fit alright in the front part of it. You sit in the middle, sandwiched between them. One half smells good, like the roses and daisies in Helen’s perfume, and other smells like the Barbasol and Bengay scent that clings unto Max. It smells like home.

The air conditioning hits you face-on. You feel it in your forehead and it pushes against your bangs and they usually stick up whenever you get off the vehicle at the end of the day.

When you’re too tired, you lean your head against Helen’s shoulder and she wraps an arm around you as she keeps softly singing whatever plays on the radio. The world is soft as the Manchester scenery speeds away and the truck sways a bit to the right to avoid a pothole, and Max grumbles.

Wally I rarely comes by. So does Wally II. The Wallies live in different cities and are usually under Barry’s shadow the whole day. But when they do come by Manchester to spend time with you and laugh, they sit in the back of the pick up truck, in the sturdy big box. It eternally smells like oil because you forgot to pick up a can that spilled there when Max had just bought it. The Wallies don’t mind it, they both have an affinity for mechanics, and the smell of car oil is a welcome one. Whenever they help each other up the back of the truck, they take a big whiff of it and smile at the same time. You smile after seeing them smile. Your hearts beats fast when it feels such good, genuine emotion. You feel like part of the grandparent’s house where they come visit to unwind. You’re proud to be part of that.

Wally I towers at six feet and four inches. He ruffles your hair whenever you’re at arm’s length and chuckles low in his throat. Kind of like the way a dad does. You always push his hand off and try to ruffle his hair back, but it stays neat in its orangey glory, because your short arm doesn’t reach the top of his head. Wally II laughs at that and pats your head too, and crouches down to allow you to have your vengeance on him, at least. But his hair is cropped tight and your hands just pats at the fluff of black curls split apart by a cropped lightning bolt. Wally II is easier on you, Wally I says he likes the face you make when you’re angry. In the end, both Wallies are good cousins.

You always think that when they sit next to you in the back of the red truck. Wally I is all limbs, and he just lays black, limbs akimbo, red hair fluttering in the wind. He’s happy and free. Wally II likes to sit close to you and ask you how you’ve been as Max speeds away in the truck. He laughs at what you say, he’s warm and relatable, and he cracks a few corny jokes on you, complaining Barry doesn’t laugh that much at them. You and Wally II have a secret handshake you can’t quite get the hang of yet, but he still encourages you anyway to keep trying.

If Max is in good spirits, he opens the little back window of the truck and turns on the radio and sings along to the country songs. If Helen is along, she laughs. The Wallies don’t know the lyrics, (bunch of city slickers), and instead clap along to the beat and sing nonsense that just matches the words coming out of the speakers. You just look at them and laugh and feel wonder and kindness and good in the world.

Max takes you to a nice ice cream Parlor downtown and brings you all the ice cream you can enjoy in the back box as he keeps on driving. Then there’s silence as everyone licks away the frozen treats and the music plays louder. The wind is nice and warm, and there’s a smudge of chocolate that clings to the tip of your nose as you wolf down the ice cream, sprinkles and cone and fudge and all. Pine trees grow on each side of the road, and sometimes you pass a classmate on a bike or a skateboard that yells out ‘Bart!’

You smile and wave back, and so do the Wallies, because they’re very polite deep down somewhere.

The truck is the second thing you drive, close after after a friend’s car that you may or may not have driven off a cliff way back when. Wally II volunteers to teach you the gear shift mechanism and you still can’t get the hang of there being three pedals to step on when you only have two feet. When you tell this to your cousins, they laugh until they cry, big belly laughs, and by the end you’re all laughing.

You end up sitting on Wally the first’s lap. He’ll step on the pedals. Wally the second manages the gear-shift. You focus on moving the steering wheel. That way you three drive around the block and back to Helen’s house, and she bursts out laughing when she sees the three of you cooped up in the truck like that. There’s so much laughing around them. You like that.

By the end of the week, Barry runs by to get the Wallies back. That’s the worst part of the week. They leave and it’s happy. But you’re alone in your room watching them speed away in lines of red and orange and silver and white. That’s not as happy.

The few moments Barry has to spend in Manchester before leaving with the Wallies are fun, though. He always lets you race him, and one time you almost won. He asks you about school, sports, and the shows you watch. He asks you about girls, and when you stick your tongue out at him he asks you about boys. You stick your tongue out all the same and he sticks his tongue out too, and he feels more like an equal. More like a pal, like a guy to joke around with, rather than the man you look up to every day and aspire to be. (Besides Max, but don’t tell him that). You let him ruffle your hair. He has the privilege. His blonde hair is cropped too short to ruffle back.

When you wear your suit you notice the red in it matches the red of the retro truck. You ask Max if he can paint white stripes on the side of the truck and call it the Impulse-Mobile. He grunts and says something like ‘over my dead body blah blah blah’.

Sometime over fall, a new superhero emerges, his name is Blue Beetle and when you look at his picture on the internet it reminds you of passing images in the future, when you ran away with your mom and Carol. It unsettles you for a while, but you get to meet him one day. He saves a little kid from drowning in the river nearby. You both got there at the same time, but he didn’t hesitate in jumping into the water. Plus, he can fly. Pretty cool.

Blue, that’s what you call him now, turns out is a great guy. Super chill, and he loves to talk about the stuff he likes, and his little sister. One day he calls you on the phone and starts to talk super fast (like almost speedster-fast) about how he met the Green Lanterns that day. You listen to his story and his amazement, and decide Uncle Hal really is pretty cool if you describe him as a flying green powerhouse monster man. You write that down in a notebook somewhere so you remember to call him that the next time you see him.

As you scribble on the notebook, Blue keeps talking and his voice changes pitch. You focus on the call.

“El Paso got destroyed though...” he says. And keeps quiet after that. The reality of the situation claiming him over.

You hesitate, and the pencil in your hand dances. “Yeah, but you saved the people.”

“Yeah, but there’s a giant hole in mi casa,” he sighs. “And my school is destroyed, especially the gym. Oh my god. I should go and help them. I should see if the Beetle suit can fix something...”

You’ve never seen Blue without his suit. To you, he’s a mechanical Mexican teenager. Likewise, he hasn’t seen you out of your costume. But you feel empathy gnaw at you. You can help too. You can get there so fast!

“I’ll go too, let me help you too!”

“What? No, Impulse I didn’t call you to— I mean, it would be great but— have you even been here before??”

You see him talk into his phone as you sped towards El Paso, having left a note in Helen’s kitchen counter. He feels the burst of wind and looks to the side to see you. You always knew he was a kid just like you, but seeing him so broken up and panicked about having destroyed his hometown made him look all the more vulnerable, killer alien-scarab on his back aside. You watch the Beetle suit take over tiny dot by tiny dot until it encases him and you both spend the afternoon picking up rubble from the streets of El Paso.

By nighttime, Blue’s mom made food, and invites you into her house even if he was still clad in white and red spandex. Blue sits on the dinner table next to you without his armor, and Blue’s little sister is fascinated with your goggles. You let her keep them when you run back to Manchester. You have dozens of them in your room. There’s a retro truck just like the Impulse-Mobile in front of Blue’s house (only a different color) and you realize the world is, in fact, quite small.