#but like bro i feel like this counts as cruel and unusual punishment for a gacha character. like.

[moe-broey]

Him.................

[gorgeousgreymatter-x]

Imagine if you will. Post Vecna, Steve and Eddie have been circling each other like vultures all summer, but neither one of them will do anything about it because Steve is convinced the minute he does, he will Fuck It Up the way he always does, and Eddie is just waiting for the day Steve gets another thump on the head and realizes he's been wasting his time with the Town Freak.

Yeah, they flirt. Of course Eddie flirts , but Steve isn't as stupid as people think he is. He knows that Eddie is just Like That, right? Sure, Eddie smiles at him in that way he does, throws his arm around Steve's shoulder, grabs his hand and drags him around like it's completely and totally normal to just hold your bros hand like that because of course it is. Why wouldn't it? Entirely pushing away the fact that it's like he can feel Eddie's fingers, the cool metal of his rings catching against Steve's palm even after he's let go. Like a phantom limb that itches and itches and no matter how hard he tries to ignore it, he knows he'll never actually get any relief.

Robin holds his hand all the time, so Steve tells himself it doesn't actually mean anything.

Because it can't.

Until one night in August when the temperatures are so high and the air is so humid you can practically drink it, and Eddie's invited himself to spend the night because, "What are rich friends for if not to steal their air conditioning. Plus look at me, Stevie! I'm practically melting."

"I was gonna go with poodle that got electrocuted, but yeah...melted works too, Munson."

Steve ignores the fact that Eddie's grin, the way he smiles so big, sometimes it's like those pretty doe eyes of his complete disappear. How something so fucking adorable could also make him feel like there are splinters in his heart, Steve doesn't know.

He's just going to chalk it up to the Munson Effect and just pretend like he doesn't feel a little like dying later when Steve is in the ensuite brushing his teeth, and if he's been hiding in here for the last ten minutes or so probably brushing the fucking enamal off his teeth, that's between him, God, and his dentist, okay?

It's not like Eddie hasn't spent the night before. Most of the time, they pass out stoned on the couch before they ever make it to an actual bed. But tonight, after three joints and a four hour movie marathon, Steve's back could not take another night on the couch bending his spine in the most obscene ways just to avoid accidentally cuddling the shit out of Eddie like his hindbrain seems to always be screaming at him to.

Eddie had simply shrugged, grinned, and followed him upstairs without comment or complaint.

And that's why Steve is having a breakdown in front of his sink right now, because he just doesn't think Sleepy Steve can be trusted not to complete lose his fucking mind.

Not when Eddie is out there in his room, sprawled on his bed because Steve had been left shaking his head and sighing when he'd watched the metalhead take a running leap and belly flop onto Steve's hideous comforter.

("Gingham should be made illegal just for your sake, Stevie. This is just cruel and unusual punishment, man.")

But it's fine. He's fine. He's in on the joke, he gets it.

Until he finally feels steady enough to open the bathroom door to see Eddie exactly in the position Steve'd thought he'd be.

Only suddenly everything is very much Not A Joke, because, yeah, of course he'd told Eddie he could borrow some pajamas, because Eddie never remembers to bring his own.

He's just not sure how his old letterman jacket counts as, you know, that.

Just like he knows that Eddie is going to take one look at his face right now, because basically it feels like someone's reached inside and cut one of his fucking wires or something, and know.

A normal person would probably say something, but Steve has buckets of brain damage he can blame for what he does next, thankfully,because in the span of, like thirty seconds, Steve finds himself practically on top of Eddie, hands on either side of the guy's absolutely ridiculous curls.

Of course, now that some oxygen has apparently made its way around to some of his braincells, Steve realizes how fucked up it is that he's just tackled Eddie liked this and oh my god how the fuck is he going to explain this when the only true explanation he has is just, "I want to fuck you so bad I think I've actually made myself dumber."

"Thank fucking christ, Harrington. I thought about, you know, just the jacket and nothing else but it seemed a little too on-the-nose, so I--"

There is a split second of pure, blind panic because what the fuck what the fuck oh my god he said all of that out loud?

"Wow, I really did make you lose some of those precious braincells of yours. You think if you fuck me tonight, you'll get them back? Like...reverse osmosis or some--"

Steve decides to just go ahead and shove his tongue in Eddie's mouth before either one of them can say anything else to screw it up.

Because god knows he's fucking waited long enough.

They both have, apparently.

[queerhargreeves]

Finish Your Thought

Diego’s stutter resurfaces after the apocalypse. The siblings handle the situation better than he expected and they learn more than they thought they knew about their brother.

It doesn’t happen immediately. Diego, just like the rest of the family, needed a week or so to just sit on and process the events that just happened. They successfully avoided the end of the world. Five is back, but he’s not the same person they all remember and he never will be. Klaus went to war. Klaus is capable of so much more. Ben can be back in their lives. Vanya has powers, stronger than all of them. Allison may never speak again. Reginald lied to them all more than they ever could have believed. Eudora was dead. They were together again.

It was a lot to take in. That first week back together, the seven siblings were raw. They walked on eggshells around each other, not wanting to cause any more pain to one another. They had spent entirely too long doing that.

Diego woke up three weeks after the almost end of the world in his childhood room. He could hear the soft sounds of his siblings and mom making breakfast downstairs, the smell of bacon wafting its way up into his room. He smiled softly at the domesticity of it all,

“A family, huh?” Diego thought to himself, still unable to fully wrap his head around that concept. There had been so many years of radio silence between the six of them. So many years of pent up feelings and frustrations with one another and their respective situations. Sure, he’d seen Klaus a few times here and there, but the visits were never entirely pleasant. It was either an OD visit, which always ended in tears and unresolved issues, or running into him as he was too out of himself to even remember his own name let alone Diego’s. Yeah, they all still had a lot to unpack.

His stomach growling got himself out of his thoughts; his body is right, these conversations can happen another time. He quickly stretched and started his small morning routine attempting to keep some sort of normalcy in his life. He dropped down to the floor and did 50 push ups, 50 sit ups, and 100 crunches. He took pride in his body and strength, something he always had to work for harder than his siblings. Well, harder than Number One at least.

Once finished and feeling slightly flushed, he washed his face and teeth and threw on the first shirt he saw in his dresser. As he made his way downstairs, the current hot topic of conversation became more clear.

“Klaus we have been over this literally a thousand times. Donuts are both a breakfast food and dessert, not just exclusively breakfast. Nothing that sugary should be qualified as ‘just breakfast’. ” Ben emphasizes, a hint of annoyance in his tone but it’s mostly light, playful banter.

“Benny dear, I hear you, I really do. But why do cops get donuts for breakfast, huh? It’s not dessert breakfast, it’s a breakfast food!”

“Is this conversation entirely necessary this early.” Five deadpans.

“Discourse is always necessary, baby old bro! Oh, Diego!” Klaus waved at him from his seat on the table, literally on the table, with a grin on his face.

Diego waved back, beelining to the pot of coffee. He grabbed himself a plate of waffles and bacon, kissing his mom on the cheek as he did so.

“Children, breakfast is ready! Everyone go on and have a seat, I’ll serve you. I mean in a chair, Klaus. Diego here couldn’t wait another minute though.” Grace teased, winking at her son. He just blushed and sat down with his siblings, sandwiched between Ben and Allison. Ben didn’t need to eat, but he enjoyed spending the mornings with his family regardless.

Grace made her way and placed a plate of food in front of each of her kids, humming along as she did so. “There we are. If you children need anything else, I’ll be doing laundry.”

“Thanks mom!” Klaus called as she left the kitchen, his mouth half full of food.

They all ate in relative silence besides a few comments from Klaus about the food or the weather. Diego was appreciative for the useless banter, not that he’d ever admit it out loud. After everything, Klaus was still Klaus.

“Could you p-pass the syrup V-v-van” Diego cut himself off, mortified. Six heads whipped around to stare at their brother, their faces littered with different degrees of concern. Their brother hadn’t spoken all morning, but that wasn't too unusual. He wasn’t a morning person. This, however, was concerning.

“Hey, hey no it’s okay. Finish your thought, Diego.” Klaus spoke up softly, his tone missing it’s usual sarcasm. Diego clenched his jaw, that statement all too familiar.

A lot of the times his siblings would try to finish the sentence for Diego when he would struggle to vocalize his thoughts properly. Usually Luther, out of annoyance. But Klaus was always the first one to shut his siblings up, insisting they give Diego the agency to finish his own thought. Diego was always grateful for Klaus for that, for never judging him. For being there.

“I d-don’t know w-w-w-why,” Diego let out a frustrated groan, slamming his knife (well, the knife from Grace’s kitchen set) in the table. Allison softly grabbed his wrist, trying to get his fist to uncurl so tightly around the utensil. He met his sisters eyes, filled with nothing but kind, non judgemental compassion.

“It’s okay.” She mouthed, rubbing circles on top of his hand. She never understood what not having control over your voice felt like. It was a privilege, something she always dismissed when they were kids. She felt horrible about how easily she was to pass judgement 15 years ago.

“Diego,” Five started gently, talking almost as if was approaching a feral animal. To be fair, Diego’s temper sometimes made him act like one. “If I may, I believe this may be a residual side effect of the last couple of weeks. Your stutter only comes out now under a heavy amount of distress, correct?”

Diego nodded, his shoulders still hunched. They all noted how he was continuing to curl in on himself, almost fearing the reaction of his siblings. God, had they really been that cruel before?

“Well, all things considered, I’d definitely count the events we’ve experienced as very distressing. Your disability is not your fault, Diego. I had a lot of time to read in the apocalypse. Being alone permits you a lot of free time, you know?” Five looked down, tugging at the end of his sleeve with his hand. He hadn’t talk about what he experienced during the apocalypse much, this vulnerability rare.

“I found a book on speech disorders in the library. It was one of the only ones that survived. I um,” He cleared his throat, “I learned a lot about speech impediments and the underlying neurological causes. It certainly opened my eyes.”

“Why don’t we wait it out and play it by ear,” Five continued, waving his hand in the air. “If it persists, we can help you work on it if you so wish to choose.”

Before Diego could respond, Luther spoke up.

“I don’t want to make the same mistakes I did the first time, Diego. Dad always said that you were lazy, not trying hard enough.” He shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable showing this amount of emotion, “But Dad has been wrong about a lot of things. And that was one of them.”

Diego’s mouth gaped open, his brows furrowed in confusion. Luther, the oh so obedient soldier, admitted he was wrong. And that Reginald was wrong. To his face, in front of everyone. This was certainly a new development for their family.

“I appreciate th-that, Luther and F-f-f-” He found himself once again cutting the sentence off, hoping they got the idea. Diego couldn’t help but feel ashamed of his impediment, even after hearing his brothers talk so candidly. Call it years of trauma from Reginald, drilling the thought of his stutter being his fault into his head. He’d been beaten, belittled, and mocked tirelessly for it as a child. Anytime he stumbled over his words, whether it was in front of Eudora or his family, he couldn’t help but feel that stomach dropping anxiety that lingered from his childhood.

“Diego, please. It’s okay. Go on, finish your thought.” Vanya said gently, insisting her brother he was safe to speak.

“Reginald l-l-locked me in the t-t-tank for seven h-hours once a-after I st-stuttered during an interview.” He chuckled lightly, his grip on Allison’s hand tightening ever so slightly, “E-everytime h-he heard me, I’d g-g-get sh-shit for it, you know? S-slapped, w-whipped, mocked. It’s f-fucked.”

The sibling were silent, sitting appalled in their seats as their brother’s story unfolded before them. They knew Reggie wasn’t a fan of his speech, but they didn’t realize he went to such extreme lengths to punish Diego.

“Speech th-therapy h-h-helped. It still should, I know all th-the tr-tricks. M-my trigger l-letters.” He felt himself getting more frustrated as he went on, “I d-don’t know w-w-why they’re not w-working.”

“Hey, we’ll help you figure it out, okay?” Ben reached across the table and pat his hand that was intertwined in Allison’s, relishing in the fact that he could physically comfort his siblings again.

“We have to help Vanya reign in her powers, help Klaus explore his. Helping you with your speech is literally the least of our worries.” Five quipped, his dimple prominent with that shit eating grin on his face.

“My dear Van-Van and I will be the biggest hurdle, my good brother.” Klaus said with pride, clapping triumphantly at his chest. The rest of the family burst into laughter.

“You mean you will be, Klaus.” Ben jested, causing an offended squeal and a blueberry to the face from the dramatic man.

“You wound me! Did I ever tell you guys about the time Benny here convinced me to wax my ass with chocolate pudding? Because let me tell you, it hurt like hell!”

Diego felt himself relax as the topic of conversation shifted to something more light, thankful again for his eccentric brother. He was feeling a lot lighter himself compared to the start of breakfast. He kept having to remind himself that the Hargreeves are not the same people they were a few weeks ago, and thank god for it. He loved his family and they loved him. Things were starting to be okay.