#hes too scrawny to make him look like the other ac chickens

[kingatrice]

I had to do it to them

[patchworkgargoyle]

Fort Munson 🌿

For Lex's Spicy Six Summer Fanworks Challenge, based on the dialogue prompt: "That’s the most elaborate treehouse I’ve ever seen." Thanks for putting all this together @thefreakandthehair! Rating: G or T (for swearing) || CW: none. || Words: ~3.8k On Ao3 Here~

Heat sat stagnant and cloying inside Eddie’s room where he and Steve lay sprawled on the floor. Eddie had said that heat rises, so they’d migrated from the bed to the worn-in carpet, and now starfished there silently. Steve could feel the stickiness of sweat on his forehead. If there were a breeze coming in through the open window it’d be fine, but all that filtered in were the high, raspy sounds of crickets and cicadas.

Could they go to Steve’s, where the AC wasn’t busted for another week until the repair guy could come out to fix it? Yeah. Sure. It was homey at the trailer, comforting. Warm. So fucking warm. He sighed, and swore his own breath was cooler than the air surrounding them. But Steve would rather stay here with Eddie than be home alone. Lately he’d rather hang out with Eddie than do most other things, other than hang out with Robin. 

She’d teased him for it, of course, when Steve told her about his crush on Eddie. Said he’d gotten a crush on a boy that looked like a mop, scrawny and all hair, and being offended on Eddie’s behalf he shoved her off the couch. Well, he’d meant to just push her, but her balance was terrible and down she toppled. After she’d gotten over her surprise, and their swearing and giggling and retaliatory slapping had calmed down, Robin told him, “I’m excited for you, Steve,” with a sappy grin. He’d just shrugged and tried to hide his own bashful smile.

So when Eddie asked yesterday if Steve would want to spend his day off at his place, his expressive, gorgeous brown eyes sparkling, there was no way Steve would turn him down. Even if it was so hot Steve felt he’d start melting into the floor.

“This sucks.”

Steve craned his neck to look at Eddie, who was frowning up at the ceiling. His bangs had gone a little stringy. “Huh?” Steve said.

“This heat, it fucking sucks dude. This isn’t hanging out.” His arm raised to lazily flail between them both then flopped loudly to the floor again. A different kind of warmth sparked up Steve’s arm when their pinkies touched, and Steve concentrated very hard on not flinching or hooking their fingers together. “This is dying. Slowly. Uneventfully. I feel like a slow roasted chicken.”

Humming, Steve said, “Yeah.”

Finally Eddie’s head tilted to the side, facing Steve. An amused smile tugged the corner of his lips down and now Steve had to concentrate on not looking. “Sounds like the heat’s melted your brains, big boy. I can see ‘em leaking out your ears.”

It’s more than just the heat, Steve wanted to say, opened his mouth and nearly let the words escape, but he caught himself with a breathy laugh. “I think you’re right,” he replied instead.

“‘Cause I’m always right.”

Steve just raised a doubtful eyebrow. It climbed higher when Eddie stuck his tongue out.

“Well I’m right about this sucking. C’mon, I’ve got an idea.” Eddie slapped his thighs and bolted upright, rolling to his feet with surprising ease while Steve peeled himself off the carpet with much less gusto and a lot more complaining.

“You’re seriously making us move right now?” he grumbled as he stood. But he heard Eddie groan and before he realised, Steve’s hands shot out to stabilise him as he wobbled.

“Shouldn’t’ve got up so fast,” he said sheepishly.

Still holding Eddie by the shoulders, Steve snorted. “You think?” He held onto Eddie just shy of too long before letting his hands drop. “Alright, you made me get up, this better be worth it.”

“Oh it’s worth it.” Eddie winked, then led them out of the trailer–only pausing to lock up–and instead of heading to one of their vehicles he started down the road towards the dead end.

While the heat out here wasn’t as stale, it almost felt worse, the sun bearing down on them directly. The road behind them shimmered with that faint heat mirage and Steve could feel it through the soles of his sneakers. “Pretty sure this sucks worse, Eddie.”

Eddie spun on his heel and started walking backwards. “Don’t you trust me?” he asked, a coy tip to his chin.

With his life. But Steve wouldn’t say that, either. “I dunno, Munson. You’re leading me into the woods, alone, no witnesses? Kinda suspicious of you.”

“I am offended, Steve, how could you say such a thing to me, of all people?” He clutched his chest and dramatically threw his head back, only to stumble when the asphalt gave way to dirt and sparse grass. Steve jolted to try and catch him, but Eddie recovered quickly, grinning widely. “See, could a suspicious guy do that?”

Steve laughed, a little baffled. “Nah, now you’re just a klutz.”

“At least I can trust you to try and catch me, Stevie.”

The fondness Steve thought he heard in Eddie’ voice would’ve made him blush if the heat hadn’t done that already. They held each other’s gaze, standing close, just a moment in time that stretched out like a plucked guitar string left to ring. Eddie cut it off with a nod to the woods. Steve was helpless, and couldn't do anything but follow.

Grasshoppers lived up to their name, hopping through the brittle, sun bleached grass as they avoided the boys’ careless feet. Steve watched a few cling to Eddie’s bare calves before he shook them off. When they’d gotten a few feet into the treeline, the leaves above sheltered them on their walk. The shade was desperately needed. He felt like he could breathe again, even if it wasn’t all that much cooler, but he still took a moment to stretch his arms up over his head and inhale the greenness of sun-warmed leaves. Steve let his arms fall again with a small, satisfied groan, pulling the hem of his shirt back into place, and saw Eddie staring. “What?”

Eddie swallowed, then shrugged. “Told you it’d be better.”

“I know, I trusted you,” Steve teased and bumped their shoulders together. Though Eddie tried to hide his shy smile behind a lock of hair, Steve still saw it, matched it with his own. There was a certain type of gleaming pride he felt when he managed to get Eddie to smile like that. “Are we going somewhere, though, or are we just on a walk in the woods?”

“We’re goin’ somewhere. Just don’t laugh when we get there.”

“No promises,” Steve said, teasing again, and Eddie half-heartedly shoved him for it.

“Now I don’t know if I wanna show you,” Eddie said with a miffed tone. He started walking again, though, so Steve kept pace.

“Why, is this some kind of secret nerd lair? Superman’s Cave of Loneliness?”

The sheer amount of disbelief and dismay in Eddie’s face when he whirled to face him made Steve howl with laughter. “I’m sorry, ‘Cave of Loneliness!?’ I don’t even read Superman and I know it’s the Fortress of Solitude, man. It’s in the movies!” Eddie squawked.

“How is Fortress of Solitude any different from Cave of Loneliness, huh?” Eddie’s mouth opened and shut once, then again, and Steve knew he’d won. “Yeah, you can’t say shit, Eddie, you know I’m right.”

Eddie glared so venomously that Steve almost missed the charmed smile he was poorly fighting off. “Fuck you, Harrington,” he said, though his lips pursed trying to keep from laughing.

“You wish.” Steve winked, then started walking in the direction Eddie had been leading them in. When Eddie lagged behind, face frozen in shock, Steve fixed him with an expectant look until the lights came back on behind Eddie’s eyes and he scrambled forward.

The trees grew taller, wider, and more gnarled the further they walked, and the shade grew deeper. Sunshine flecked the forest floor, showing the way between the trunks and glancing off still-green foliage untouched by the summer heat. It was beautiful, but Steve kept getting distracted by the way the light caught in Eddie’s hair; the dappling made the strands of dark brown flash with vibrant reds and richer browns, and danced over his cheekbones like golden kisses. Steve wanted to replace them with his own, his chest aching sweetly with desire, but he wasn’t brave enough yet.

He could still wish for it, though. Eddie’s skin would probably feel soft under Steve’s lips. He’d take his time, too, placing one languid, deliberate kiss after the other, tracing the path the sun had left.

The bubble of his daydream popped when Eddie came to a halt in front of a massive old oak and spread his arms upwards with a, “Ta-dah!” Following his wiggling fingers, Steve saw the structure sitting snugly in the tree’s sturdy, sprawling branches.

A treehouse. The foundation of it seemed to be built from old railroad ties, bolted into the trunk, while the rest of it looked a little newer. Big, childishly menacing eyes were painted around the windows, and below those and slashed across the door was a mouth full of triangle-shaped teeth; in the middle of the mouth, on the door, a red tongue lolled out. The rest of the rounded walls looked like they’d been black once, but had now faded away to a mottled, chipped grey. A fake chimney sprouted from the roof, which was shaped like a cone and covered with mismatched shingles. While the base still seemed sturdy, the house itself was starting to look a little rickety.

“What do you think?”

“That’s the most elaborate treehouse I’ve ever seen.” That wasn’t even a lie. Steve had said it genuinely, and with a fair bit of surprise. He would’ve been over the moon if he’d seen this as a kid.

Eddie beamed at the praise. “Ain’t it? Wayne and I built it ourselves. Well, we had a bit of help from one of his buddies from the plant who does carpentry on the side, but still. Took a whole summer to build too.” He walked to the trunk and that’s when Steve spotted the rusty ladder rungs drilled into the tree. His ringed hand closed around a rung with a clicking sound.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Eddie,” Steve warned.

Rolling his eyes so hard his whole head followed, Eddie said, “Live a little, Stevie!” Hoisting himself up, Eddie began to scale the ladder easily, his hands and feet finding each placement like it was habitual. It probably was. Steve watched him climb the ten-ish feet up–and absolutely appreciated the view–until Eddie landed on the narrow space between the edge of the foundation and the door and pushed the door open on its squeaky hinges. “See, nothing to worry about. Hurry up, you’re missing the party!” he shouted over the edge before ducking into the treehouse.

Huffing, Steve shook his head and followed Eddie up at a much more cautious pace. Not a single rung was loose, thankfully. At the top, he clambered onto the foundation and found the house was a little smaller than it seemed from the ground, but Eddie had wedged himself inside against the left side, still smiling, legs folded in so that Steve could crouch his way inside.

“This is, uh, a tight fit,” he grunted, smacking the back of his head on the doorway.

“Be careful,” Eddie said, and Steve glared without any heat.

“Bit late for that.”

Some shuffling, arguing, and contorted limbs later, and Steve was settled inside the treehouse. His and Eddie’s legs were practically intertwined as they sat across from each other, but it wasn’t too uncomfortable; the curve of the rounded walls was pretty nice to rest against, actually.

“This is great,” he said as he inspected the place. Cobwebs hung everywhere, and he was sure a racoon had slept in the leaves and fur piled next to him. There was a dusty red plastic kid’s chair tucked under a piece of plywood jutting from the wall that must’ve been a desk, but now held an abandoned bird’s nest. The walls were covered in crayon drawings: stick figures with swords and guns acting out grand battles against monsters, a big castle that had a flag with an ‘M’ on it, a red dragon shooting laser beams instead of fire from its mouth. Steve nodded at the dragon with his chin. “That’s different.”

Eddie snorted. “Yeah, that and the dudes with guns started when my dad let me watch Wizards way too young.” At Steve’s quizzical expression, he continued, “Animated movie from ‘77. I dunno, you might like it. It’s not your typical fantasy stuff.”

“I like fantasy sometimes, just not when Dustin keeps ragging on me to watch or read or play it all the damn time.”

“Fair,” Eddie laughed.

“Maybe we could watch it sometime, together?”

He looked pleasantly surprised. “You’d wanna watch a weird fantasy movie with me?” Steve shrugged. “Alright man, it’s a date. Just tell me when and where and I’ll procure the goods.”

Something fluttered in Steve’s belly when Eddie said ‘it’s a date,’ even though he hadn’t meant it like that. Still, that genuine little smile that lingered on Eddie's face gave him just the tiniest glint of unwanted hope.

“When did you and your uncle build this?” he asked to distract himself from the small riot happening inside himself.

“When I was eleven. I’d been living with Wayne for about a year, and he wanted to do something for me to celebrate even though I’d spent most of that year being a little shit. His friend Dale had gotten ahold of the wood for free, and Wayne had known about this old treehouse foundation,” Eddie knocked on the floor, “for a while. So during the summer he took some time off from work and we built it with Dale’s help in a week. Definitely stabbed my foot with a nail once.”

Steve looked at the construction with a new appreciation, and also a little bit of old, selfish longing. But he pushed that down. “That sounds nice.”

“You ever have a treehouse built around Harrington Manor?”

“Nah.” Steve wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his chin where they crossed. “I tried to convince my dad once when I was little. He even bought the stuff for it. Mom told him it’d be an eyesore in the yard, though, and I was too young to take it all into the woods and build it by myself. It just sat around until my dad got rid of it.”

Eddie hummed, a bitter twist to his mouth. It was a look he always got on the rare times Steve talked about his parents. “Wouldn’t it be kinda funny if that treehouse stuff you dad got rid of was the wood Dale found? This shit was all pre-cut and everything, I think.”

Chuckling a bit, Steve said, “Yeah, maybe.”

“I choose to believe it, and therefore I decree it to be True.” Head held high, Eddie smacked his fist into the floor like a gavel. Steve didn’t bother hiding the grin that crept up on him. “Twas yours once, King Steve, then passed on to become Fort Munson so that you may in the future visit the bounty you bestowed upon the Kingdom of Munson as a sign of peace and goodwill.”

“I would’ve thought this’d be Castle Munson.”

“Nope, that’s the trailer, Steve. Get it right.”

Steve laughed hard enough to knock his head against the wall. Eddie was too good at that, making Steve’s gloomy moments brighter with his nerdy antics, and while Steve figured it was the crush making everything Eddie did that much more, he hoped it wouldn’t fade. Even if it also made his chest hurt.

“Would’ve been nice if we’d built it together, as kids. If we’d been friends then, y’know?” He sighed and turned away from Eddie, not that it was easy to hide in the tight space they’d jammed themselves into. “Maybe I’d–maybe things would’ve turned out differently.”

A clean white Reebok knocked into Steve’s dirty Nike. A scolding. “ Stop beating yourself up over there or I’m gonna start doing it for you. I don’t want different, Stevie. Don’t want you any different.”

Steve hid cheek against his arms when he felt it grow red, hoped Eddie wouldn’t notice it travelling up to the tip of his ear. “I don’t think beating me up for beating myself up is helpful,” he huffed.

“Well I’m gonna. Don’t test me. I’ll use percussive maintenance on your ass.”

Steve frowned, but not at the nonsense words that came out of Eddie’s mouth. “What’s that?” he asked.

“What, percussive maintenance? It’s like when you hit the TV to make the signal come through, or–oh. Uh.”

There was a drawing next to Steve’s head, a stick figure knight kneeling and kissing the hand of another stick figure that wore a crown. He traced a curious finger over the crown and the short hair of the drawing, the yellow and black crayon still waxy after a decade of weathering. “Aren’t princesses supposed to have long hair or something?”

Eddie’s feet shuffled away from Steve’s. His heart plummeted in his chest, a drop from a rollercoaster, and he watched Eddie’s face turn inscrutable, his eyes fixed downward. Shit. What had he done wrong? The humourless laugh that followed made Steve feel even worse.

“Eddie, I’m sorry, I–”

“Sure, when you’re a kid princesses have long hair,” Eddie interrupted. His hands were locked together, almost white-knuckle tight, twitching up and down with a nervous tick Steve knew well, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. It looked like he was fighting something, whether to say something or not. All Steve wanted to do was reach out, pry his hands apart and take them into his own, but he wasn’t sure if that would even be welcome now or not.

“You don’t have to tell me, whatever it is. I put my foot in my mouth all the time, man, you can just tell me to fuck off.”

“No, I. I–I gotta. Robin said I should just, just do it, you know? Just gimmie a second.”

Steve frowned, concerned, but kept quiet, even as Eddie ran his now shaking hands through his hair. A curl got caught in one of his rings and Eddie cursed, but Steve darted forward to gently untangle it before Eddie just ripped it out. He tucked the soft strand back amongst the rest with care and met Eddie’s dark, wide, longing eyes.

Eddie groaned and hid his face in his hands. “See, Steve, you go and do shit like that and sometimes I think I can do this, but. Fuck.”

Heart hammering in his chest, Steve asked, urged, “What, Eddie?”

“That’s a prince, Steve.” The words came out as a shaky whisper and hung in the small space between them, caught in the air like dust motes.

It took Steve much less time to connect the dots this time than the last time someone came out to him. “So… you’re gay?”

A shuddering sigh escaped Eddie’s chest and his shoulders slumped. He still didn’t look up. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve had a crush on girls once or twice, but. Mostly just guys.”

Steve didn’t know it was possible to feel like this, this jumble of calm and relief and so hopeful and happy he could dance or shout or shake something. Fireworks over a still lake. He balled his fists just to keep from grabbing Eddie and yanking him closer.

“That’s cool. Good, actually.”

Eddie snorted and started to lift his head. “‘Good?’ What do you mean, good?”

While Eddie spoke, Steve quickly shuffled to his knees–staying hunched over so he didn’t bump his head again–and leaned into Eddie’s space a fraction more, hands braced by Eddie’s hips to keep from flopping into his lap. Eddie stared up at him, awed, slack-jawed, and Steve could feel his warm breath ghost across his cheeks, could see the way the summer had intensified the faint freckles that dusted the bridge of Eddie’s nose. They stood out more as the blush in his cheeks darkened.

“I like both,” Steve shared quietly, earnestly. “I like you, Eddie.”

“You… you like me?”

Steve grinned, wide and goofy but he couldn’t care less. “Yeah. I like you a lot.”

“Holy shit. Holy shit–”

“Eddie,” Steve laughed and cupped his warm, scarred cheek in his palm. He’d meant to pull Eddie in for a kiss, to finally make all those daydreams come true, but instead Eddie’s hand wrapped around his. Gently, Eddie brought it away from his face, his grasp sliding down to the tips of Steve’s fingers as he arched Steve’s hand. Then he brought it to his lips, gaze set meaningfully on Steve’s. Pressed his lips to the back of Steve’s hand in a kiss so reverent it had goosebumps breaking out over Steve’s skin, making his breath catch around the sudden lump in his throat.

“I like you a lot too, Steve,” Eddie said, still quiet, as if speaking any louder would burst the fragile and pearlescent bubble of joy around their puzzle-pieced bodies. Steve touched his forehead to Eddie’s with a watery laugh. He couldn’t help it, pulled there by a tug on his heartstrings, and his grin grew almost painful when Eddie nuzzled their noses together.

All it took was the slightest movement. Neither boy could tell who did it first; both of them met in the middle. Steve felt Eddie’s bottom lip press between his, cradled it there softly, pouring every bit of yearning and desire he’d been feeling for months into this one simple touch. When they parted with that delicate sound of a broken kiss, Steve’s eyes fluttered open to see Eddie’s still closed. A slow, satisfied smile grew, making those dimples Steve loved so much appear in Eddie’s cheeks.

And Eddie giggled. Steve hadn’t ever heard him giggle before and it made him feel like a shaken up can of soda. Quickly he ducked in and kissed him again, and again, desperate to release the pressure and hoping to coax more of that laugh from Eddie.

They kissed and laughed and held each other in the treehouse until they lost track of time, until their lips were redder than their faces and their stubble had rubbed a few spots just a little raw. When they finally came up for air, the sun was lower in the sky, painting the forest outside the open door in golden hour hues.

“I guess there’s more than peace between our kingdoms,” Eddie said, and Steve snorted into his shoulder.

“Good thing I trusted you, then.”

Eddie wound his arms around Steve and held him close enough that Steve could hear his heartbeat through the soft fabric of his old band tee. In the midst of their kissing he’d ended up sprawled between Eddie’s knees, and they’d both sunk down onto the cramped, dusty floor.

“Real good thing, Stevie.”

Tag List Lovelies: @steves-strapcollection @scarcrossdlvrs @inairbinad

[spindlebeforesunset]

Baby Scenario = Epel and Jack

Nobody noticed they were missing from classes until at almost lunchtime Deuce was like hold up, are they sick or something.

Word traveled fast that Jack could have been sick and it managed to reach Leona, so he went to give his junior a talking down. Vil saw the uncarved apples on the lunch table so he goes back to Pomefiore to check on Epel.

At Savanaclaw, a scrawny baby Jack almost falls off the stairs if Leona did not think fast enough to catch him. All what Leona can think of is that he's stuck in a fever dream.

At Pomefiore, Epel has eaten up all his secret snacks and has made a mess on his baby-sized uniform and blanket. Vil is not pleased.

Both dorm leaders meet at the Mirror Hall and are promptly confused when they see each other holding a baby version of their dormmate.

Vil: Jack too?

Leona: Why does yours look like he came from a bloodbath?

Vil: He kept a stash of snacks the whole time in his room! And Jack looks half-dead, what are you? Feed him!

They enter the cafeteria and are greeted with "aww, they look so squishy!"

Leona and Vil: Don't touch the child.

But nobody questions them when they pick up food until the next happened.

Rook nearly collapsed when he saw Vil giving a baby Epel some orange juice to drink. Ruggie lost his shit because Leona was actually trying to feed a baby Jack a fried chicken leg.

Rook: Roi de Poison? What are you doing to the infante? Have mercy!

Ruggie: Leona, what the hell, don't shove that in his mouth!

Leona and Vil : Wait, you're not supposed to do that?

Cue 'what the fuck is wrong with you' looks across the cafeteria. Jamil has facepalmed so hard he knocked himself unconscious and Kalim has to get some people to help. Lilia and Malleus have left the room with Silver in tow. Azul just shakes his head, feeling pity for the unfortunate babies. Trey has to be the one to give them milk.

Epel does not like the milk and spills it on the table to Vil's disgust. Jack on the other hand chugs it all down with an amused Leona. When baby Epel saw Jack chugging the milk, he crawled over to him when Vil was wiping off the mess, and to everyone's shock, he slapped the (empty) plastic cup on Jack's head with a resounding wham!

"WAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Leona has to cradle a crying Jack in one arm and block a laughing Epel with the other. "Can you get your little shit please."

Vil: Epel, that's bad!

Epel: Hahahahahaha!

Riddle: Wow, that's one evil baby (promptly backs away from the shared table)

"Epel, you don't do that to others," Vil scolds the still laughing baby. "No, you do not do that," he keeps Epel an arm away because the latter is trying to scratch him. "Stop that!"

Before anyone can even stop him, Vil slaps Epel's baby hands away from him. The expected result happens and the baby sobs.

Leona: The hell was that!

Vil: Kingscholar, that's called discipline!

Leona: The fuck-

Crowley: Why did you two not tell me that this happened again! And two at once!

Baby Jack is scared of Headmaster Crowley and burrows himself in Leona's waistcoat. Baby Epel (feeling betrayed by Vil) crawls over to the Headmaster who scoops him up in his arms and starts to soothe him.

"Crewel will be out this afternoon Schoenheit, so the antidote will be left solely to you."

Hold the fuck up.

"But, Headmaster, what about that one?"

"He's better off with me than you I presume, Schoenheit."

"Oof," Rook says.

"Jack as well."

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

"Headmaster, with all due respect," Vil begins.

"Jack does not like you," finishes Leona. "You don't want to go to him do you, little wolf?"

Baby Jack just clings to Leona in protest but Epel (the little shit) is just laughing at him. Headmaster Crowley is having second thoughts about baby Epel but oh well. Leona is pretty much stuck with Jack, so he takes a tray full of baby-friendly food that Jade had been preparing and follows Vil.

"Aren't you going to say 'bye', Epel?" Floyd asks.

Ortho gets Epel's arm and makes it wave.

Ruggie follows Leona because he just has a feeling that the latter would do something stupid like fall asleep and leave Jack to crawl around.

Back at Pomefiore, Vil is readying the antidote and demands no interruption from Leona who followed him with a sleepy Jack and Ruggie who followed Leona.

In the Headmaster's office, Epel is happily sleeping in an apple crate cushioned by a blanket. Sam pops in regarding some deliveries and almost trips because it is literally in the absolute centre of the room. Epel wakes up momentarily before sleeping again.

Vil is boiling the brew in a cauldron, takes one moment to look up, and just sees Leona snoring on the floor, a sleeping Jack, and a pissed off Ruggie cradling the baby.

Ruggie: He's hopeless.

Vil: You don't say.

Ruggie is internally thinking Vil is a hypocrite because he's not even taking care of the baby Epel, but reasons with himself that he is the one making the antidote after all. Also, the baby friendly food is dwindling because Ruggie is eating some of it.

When Epel wakes up at late afternoon, he topples over his crate and is trapped. Crowley is nowhere to be seen, he's out walking. Ace and Deuce are looking for the Headmaster because they were called to and hear wailing in the office.

They rope a passing Rook to unlock the door and find the crate moving.

Deuce: WHY IS A BABY IN SOLITARY CONFINEMENT.

Rook gets Epel out, Ace writes a note saying they took Epel, and the trio head out.

They meet Cater taking selfies and the first thing he notices is a still teary Epel.

Cater: Why is he crying?

Deuce: Why was he in solitary confinement?

Ace: Why was he left with the Headmaster?

Rook: Why did it have to be him into a baby, now shut up we need to get to Roi de Poison.

Cater spreads the tidbit of Epel in confinement at the office and when the trio are at the Pomefiore lounge, the news had reached half the school. At the dungeons, they see that its a mess. Jack does not want to eat the soup that Ruggie and Leona are trying to feed him. Epel sees Vil, and shrieks, mama!

Vil: If you were my child, you would be better behaved.

Everyone else: B r u h.

At least Vil is almost done with the potion. Epel is placed on the floor but Vil freaks and tells Rook to carry him instead.

Leona: Wow, you do care.

Vil: Do you?

Baby Jack crawls near Vil's leg and he accidentally steps on the baby's hand with his fucking heels. Jack screams WAAAAAAAAA, Vil is apologizing and panicking, Leona is yelling at Vil, dummy duo and Ruggie are freaking over the potion because it is spilling, and Cater and Rook are just helplessly handing Epel more snacks. Leona grabs baby Jack and tries to comfort him while glaring daggers at Vil whose hair is starting to look less composed.

The potion is finished half an hour of stirring later. But the babies do not want to drink it - Epel is full from all his snacks, and Jack is too upset to eat. So everyone is hivemind (except Vil for Epel) in one solution: play with both babies in the hope that one throws up, and the other to cheer up.

Vil and Rook are left with Epel while the others play with Jack. Vil shakes Epel a bit, but the latter is only dazed. Rook then takes Epel again and starts to shake him like a maraca. Naturally, everyone is horrified. And even more horrifying is Crowley screaming at them because THE POOR BABY.

Epel is already in tears, yet nobody sees he's turning green until Leona yells at them. Jack slaps Leona for yelling too loud next to him and he shuts up. Epel throws up in a bucket. This time, Jack laughs at him.

After Vil roughly wipes Epel's face, he forces him to chug the antidote down. Jack turns away from the potion at first, but when Cater, Deuce, Ace, Ruggie, and Leona keep him still, Headmaster Crowley can pour the antidote down. Vil pats Epel so he can sleep, but the dummy duo demand to Crowley why the baby was all alone in the office.

Crowley: I only left for a few moments!

Rook: Then why was he underneath an apple crate?

Crowley: What? H-h-he must have made it fall over!

Leona, internally: Bullshit.

Leona and Ruggie take Jack back to Savanaclaw for proper rest. Leona yeets all his blankets and pillows so that Jack can sleep comfortably and hesitantly sings a lullaby so the wolf cub can sleep.

Vil carries a very miffed Epel back to the latter's room and orders Rook to clean up the snack trash. Baby boy is too clingy but Vil huffs and accepts his role as mom and pats Epel to sleep.

The rest cart out after helping out by cleaning.

Crowley has to face a barrage of questions from both students and staff alike as to Epel's treatment up to the next day.

When the two babies are back to their regular form, they both freak and send their respective dorm heads flying across the room as they too had fallen asleep.

Leona and Vil: After all I've done for you-

[aileruaa]

Something of Zetaflash. As the moment Bart realized that he liked Ed and vice versa, maybe not a confession rather knowing that there is "something more than friendship" It would crash! I love what you write !!

Here I am hella late as always LOL anyway who agrees that Bart would totally get flustered watching Ed work out? cus i agree 🙋🏻‍♀️ (i hope this suffices, anon!!!) and yes i totally agree that im projecting my desperate need to work out on my favorite characters via writing but let’s just ignore that...LMAO

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Bart was a lean kid, and sheer strength was never his forté. He didn’t need it; his super speed and quick wits easily compensated for his lack of Superboy-Level strength. That was why he was usually never caught dead in the gym, except to watch his fellow team members struggle with their workouts and make snarky comments. The gym was the last place Bart would have been lurking in on a Monday night, if it weren’t for the fact that his teammates were literally nowhere to be seen for their usual weekly Monday video game tournament meetup.

“There you all are! What are you guys doing here?” Bart asked, popping a Chicken Whizee in his mouth. He walked in the glass doors of the Hollywood tower’s personal gym, only to be greeted by the clanking of weights and the gritted yelling of Victor Stone. “No one was in the game room.”

“We…gotta…get…jacked.” Vic grunted, arms straining under the weight of the 280-pound plates he was trying to bench. Gar chugged his protein shake at an alarming pace and nodded at Bart in acknowledgement, while Cassie counted her 698th one-armed push-up.

“Easy there, big boy. You’re pumping more iron than usual already.” Ed’s hands hovered above the bar, just in case Vic’s arms gave out from the weight.

“Jacked for what? How come I wasn’t invited?” Bart crossed his arms. Vic let out a yell and slotted the bar back in its place. Ed held the bar to help him balance.

“Dude, you never work out.” Gar raised an eyebrow. “Besides, this is for publicity. Ever heard of the ALS ice bucket challenge?”

“Uh, yeah. I don’t live under a rock.” Bart retorted as Gar pulled out his phone.

“Well, we were nominated by Perdita to do the challenge, but we have to look good for the camera. We’re trying to get our muscles toned before we pour a bunch of water on ourselves.” Gar showed the footage of the queen declaring her hefty donation to the ALS research community, followed by the ever-so-iconic spilling of ice water all over her body. Shivering and smiling, Perdita nominated Garfield and his team to do the challenge as well and to spread the good word.

“How come I didn’t hear about this?” Bart asked, feeling a little left out.

“It was in the group chat. You probably didn’t see it, as always.” Cassie pointed out, rising from her 700th push-up. Bart took his own phone out and checked the Outsiders’ Groupme chatroom, to find that he was indeed tagged in the message inviting the team to the gym and that he, as Cassie said, had not seen the messages. Bart sighed.

“Isn’t this supposed to be about helping people with ALS, not about looking good for the camera?”

“Yeah, but people tend to be more interested when there’s something nice to look at. Can’t have us heroes looking scrawny. And isn’t that the point? To generate interest?” Gar grinned. “Hey Cas, let me see you flex.”

As Cassie flexed her arms for Gar to observe, Bart turned his attention towards Ed and Vic. Vic finished up the last of his rep and got up from the bench.

“I’m surprised you’re going along with this, amigo.” Bart walked over to the two, watching Ed’s Adam’s apple bob as he took a hefty sip from his water bottle.

“To be honest, I didn’t know about this whole ALS thing until I got to the tower. This was just supposed to be my regular Monday evening workout.” Ed shrugged, capping his bottle. “But I thought, ‘might as well’. I’ve got nothing to do anyway.”

“Alright, Ed, your turn.” Vic slapped Ed on the back in a friendly manner, albeit a little too roughly. Ed rubbed the area and took his position under the bars as Vic took off the heavier plates to match the weight Ed could handle.

Bart stared as Vic loomed by the bar and Ed positioned his arms parallel to his shoulders on the bar. It occurred to Bart that out of all his teammates, he hadn’t ever really seen Ed work out. Jaime, sure; Cassie and Vic, all the time. But they were the strongholds of the team and needed to maintain their physical strength at all times. Ed was similar to Bart in that he normally relied more on his wits and teleportation than sheer strength. It made sense, however, that Ed would want to keep himself in the best shape possible in case they came up against a particularly brutal enemy.

But watching Ed bring the bar down to his chest and lift it made Bart feel some type of way. He looked so concentrated, teeth gritted and eyes squinted as his lean yet toned arms strained against the weight of the plates. Ed’s normally chill face was scrunched up in total concentration as he exhaled sharply with the movement of the bar. He almost looked angry, like the bar was his enemy and he only had one thing on his mind- to overcome it. His muscles seemed tense; had he not stretched enough before? And was the AC broken, or was Bart just blushing profusely despite the ambient temperature?

‘Shit.’ Bart brought a hand to his cheek. He was flustered as Hell.

“Dios mio, how much weight did you put on, dude? I told you my PR’s 180,” Ed grunted as he brought the bar back up. Vic chuckled.

“Only twenty more than usual. Come on, man, your arms are gonna look nice as Hell when you finish this set.” Vic encouraged, nodding at Bart to say something.

“Yeah, they’ll look…nice.” Bart’s voice cracked. He turned away to hide his profuse blushing, only to be faced with a grinning Cassie.

“You would think so, huh?” she whispered as she tied her hair back into a ponytail. Cassie was the only person on the team other than Jaime and Traci who was aware of Bart’s little crush on Ed, and she never missed a chance to make fun of Bart. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Shut up, Cas,” Bart hissed back.

“I’m just pointing out the obvious. You’re totally ogling.” Cassie muttered. And she was right. Bart couldn’t take his eyes off Ed for too long, it seemed, because his eyes trailed back to Vic and Ed as he heard Ed’s strained groaning from his finished rep.

“My arms are definitely feeling this tomorrow.” Ed sighed, reclining up to wipe the sweat from his brow.

“Come on, from 200?” Vic teased. “That’s like lifting a textbook.”

“More like 20. Some of us don’t have Fatherbox strength to get us through.” Ed rolled his eyes. “Cas, Gar, you’re done already?”

“Yup!” Cassie flexed her arms dramatically for the boys to see. “Bart here wants to give it a try, though.”

“No, no I don’t.” Bart corrected, glaring at Cassie for her obvious attempt to push him towards Ed. Ed brought the hem of his muscle tank up to his face, revealing a set of nicely-toned abs underneath. Bart almost choked.

“Bar’s all yours if you want, hermano.” Ed waved towards the bench. “Soon as I finish my sets.”

“Nope. Don’t need it. I don’t gym.” Bart shook his head adamantly.

“You, uh, look a little red there, Lil’ Red.” Vic pointed out. “Like, the color of your face and your hair are pretty much the same.”

“Just, uh, the AC’s probably broken.” Bart retorted.

“The AC’s on full blast.” Gar corrected.

“Are you feeling sick?” Ed asked, a tinge of concern evident in his voice. God, why was he so caring at the worst of times?

“Maybe the ice bucket challenge will help cool you off.” Vic suggested.

“Nah, it’s fine. I didn’t bring a change of clothes, so-“

“Who says your clothes will be on?” Cassie interrupted, chewing on her granola bar. “Everyone’s gonna be shirtless.”

As soon as Cassie mentioned shirtless, something in Bart snapped.

“I-I’m outta here.” Bart knew that seeing Ed shirtless right after a sweaty workout would break the straw on the camel’s back, and took it upon himself to escape before anyone could stop him. As he stormed out of the gym, everyone else glanced at each other in confusion at Bart’s sudden departure- everyone except Cassie, who grinned to herself at Bart’s flustered exit.

“Why’d he leave?” Gar asked, confused. Cassie giggled knowingly, shrugging in order to preserve her friend’s integrity. After all, she was the only one who knew Bart’s redness was simply him not knowing how to deal with his flustered emotions for Ed, and it was more fun teasing Bart than to reveal it herself.