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formosusiniquis · 5 months

Text

have your cake

So way back in August 2023 the steddiemicrofic challenge was Cake and 311 words, my head empty brain came up with one thought and it was Steve Munson having a bakery called Mun's Buns and so many months later I finally got around to finishing my vision

Ships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson; Tommy Hagan/Carol Perkins; implied/past Tommy Hagan/Steve Harrington/Carol Perkins WC: 6408 | T | tags: Future Fic, the lightest of post homoerotic friendship breakup angst, fluff, Tommy POV AO3

The bakery has a stupid name, is the first thing Tommy thinks when Carol tells him where he's supposed to meet her on his lunch break. He’s still thinking that, when he sees the place for the first time through his rain speckled windshield. It's a modest storefront, small for what Carol says is a booming business, tucked in next to a used bookstore and a music shop. There's a baby yellow awning hanging from the front just underneath a sign lettered in soft blue that reads Mun's Buns.

He's late, is the second thing he thinks after pulling up. Caught up in some stupid bullshit for his dad he hadn't managed to slip away until 12:30. Even then it had only been because Tommy had told him he was going to be late for their cake tasting. He'd rolled his eyes when his father and Greg, a guy that Tommy only considers a co-worker in the sense that they are technically on the same payroll since Greg in every other aspect is incompetent and an idiot, had winced. Shooing him away like a kid who'd just admitted that he's already twenty minutes past curfew. But catching sight of the way Carol has her arms crossed, tapping her foot fast enough to kickstart a motor, while her hair hangs limp in a way that it hadn’t this morning a third thought crosses his mind: maybe he should have been a little more worried.

Waiting isn’t going to make things any better. So he steps out of the car, let’s the misty damp cling to him in a way that makes his dress pants and button down feel like a poorly tailored second skin, and takes his licks like a man. "Late, thirty minutes late. Christ, it's the only thing I've asked from you Tommy." Her right hook stings just as badly as it did sophomore year when she punched him for asking out Erin Murphy instead of her.

Shit like that is probably why no one expected them to make it this long or this far.

When they went away to college; different schools, hours apart. His parents had been gleeful as they'd warned him that high school relationships didn't always last. That he should keep his options open, he didn't want to miss out on the love of his life just because of comfort. He didn't get offered the family ring when he decided to propose right after graduation. Carol has always been particular. Wanted the house to come back to before the wedding could happen, wanted a long honeymoon. That meant saving, a lot of it. Tommy knew and Carol did too, they'd overheard his mother and aunt gossiping in too loud voices after too much wine that they hoped the long engagement meant they were both trying to figure out a good way to break it off with one another.

Still, over the course of their now five year engagement no one's asked once if they wanted to trade for it.

Carol thought it was horrendous anyway. She’d had her ring picked out since ‘85, styled her class ring so it would look like the oval cut diamond she wanted. Had him slide it on her finger the second it came in.

Cause in the politest of terms, Carol could be a raging bitch. She was Tommy's favorite person in the entire world.

There’s going to be a bruise on his shoulder tomorrow, even if she’s guiltily smoothing a hand down his arm now. Thrust toward the door first in offering, Carol is sorry she hit him but she’s not apologetic. “I’m serious, Tom, if we lose this appointment and have to go with Sweet Treats for our cake I'll- I'll-"

Whatever threat she was preparing is drowned out and then cut off by the echoing TONG of the door chime. A light in the back shifts color for a second, out of place enough that he wonders if he even really saw it. Head tilting toward Carol, his question catches in his throat when he notices her pinched off appraising. Better not to add to the ammunition she might already be building.

And if Carol is looking he better do it too. She'll want to debrief when they're having dinner tonight, just like they did with the florist, the caterer, the three wedding planners they'd met with, and each of the venues that they'd visited. And it wasnt because she was demanding, fuck you Greg. It wasn't because she was being nitpick-y, alright it was a little bit because she was but he liked being particular with her. He liked being involved in his wedding.

So he looked around.

The way they utilized their space -- a building that big and there's barely enough room to stand, we want someone who knows how to work with limited space for the venues we're looking at -- was the reason their first wedding planner hadn't gotten hired. Small, but not cramped. There are a handful of tables scattered in the open space in front of the counter. It’s the kind of small town cozy that Hawkins had tried for and he doesn’t see very often anymore now that they’ve moved out to Indianapolis.

It’s lunchtime, still too early for people to be seeking out the rows of deserts in their neat glass counter and too late for the breakfast crowd. But one of the tables is occupied by a teenager with long, black braids scribbling in a notebook while a slice of ice cream cake melts on a plate by her elbow.

Everything was neat, organized, and compliant with health code regulations -- they hadn’t even made it in the door of the first caterer’s when she noticed a trail of ants and roaches marching into the open kitchen door.

Carol had always been quick when she was making up her mind about something. Like those Sherlock Holmes stories they’d had to read in school, in a couple of seconds she could spot everything she needed to make a decision. After a decade Tommy still couldn’t keep up; but he was always best at following someone else’s lead.

The smile she’s got frosted across her face is as sugary and fake as the roses on the cupcakes he can see behind the low topped counters as she approaches the only visible staff member. A girl, young in the way that nebulous way anyone younger than him was now, with thick squared glasses that magnified two distressingly blue eyes. The counters looked like they were designed to sit low enough that she could easily see over the top while in her wheelchair.

“Welcome to,” her customer service tone borders on bored. Two words into a clear script and she sighs, as if saying the name physically pains her, “Mun’s Buns. We’ve got a special series of summer flavors: Strawberry Lemonade, Lavender Mint, Chocolate Fudgsicle, and,” she sighs again, “for the grownups a boozy Blue Moon with orange zest.”

“How about a wedding cake.” He’s impressed. Carol made it through the speech without interrupting.

“Do you have an appointment?” the girl raises her voice, enough to make them both flinch back. Customer service isn’t a requirement for this part of the job necessarily, but Carol had bailed on two venues because the staff hadn’t been polite enough.

Her smile doesn’t crack though, “Yes.”

Even though he’s pretty sure this girl has to be basically blind with the inch thick frames, she levels Carol with a lethal stare. “Not you.”

From the open entryway behind her Tommy had been able to make out what sounded like the highlights of yesterday’s game. He assumed that space had to be the kitchen where these rows of deserts were made. He’s still surprised when a guy’s voice is shouting back, “I don't know, Max, do I? Why don't you check?”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Max shouts back, glowering at then in stand in for her mystery boss.

“With your finger, asshole. It's in braille. When I gave you this job you said you were actually gonna work.”

“Douchebag." Her eyes never leave them, while her hands rummage around in a space beneath the counter where the cash register sits. Max offers no explanation or apology for her shouting or for her boss. A large red appointment book gets slammed down on the nearest counter, making Carol jump but the neat two by twos of chocolate frosted cupcakes don't budge. He watches, a little fascinated by the way her finger scans the page before slowing. "Did you write this or did Dustin?"

Carol has always valued gossip over professionalism, he thinks that’s why she’s done so well as a hairdresser even though she was always awful at chemistry. It’s also why he’s held off from pointing out that they could solve this a lot faster if this guy would come out from the back. "Why?"

“Cause one of you can't spell and one of you is trying to invent braille shorthand. So I'm not really sure what to do with TomGan Wed.”

“It might be Thomas and Wedding.” Carol leans over the appointment book as she says it, using a tone of voice he has never once heard her use in the entire time he’s known her. He thinks it’s supposed to be helpful.

“Wedding sampler.” The girl calls toward the back, “It's getting late.”

“I’ve got it,” the voice from the back shouts back.There’s an effortless assurance Tommy can hear from where he’s standing. It hits him with a wave of nostalgia so strong he grabs Carol’s arm on instinct.

“Really,” she says, cutting her gaze over to him. He’s not sure what she sees. “If we could hurry this along, it's just we've only got an hour.”

“You're late.” The glare she gets shuts Carol down faster than he’s ever seen.

“Right.”

“Okay I've got it.” The voice from the back is now the voice in the doorway. Hidden for a second by a serving tray loaded with samples of rich looking cake, it’s the first time since arriving that Tommy has actually wanted to be here. Not just because he can make out strong shoulders and a body of a man that’s still very fit but clearly enjoys his work too; the hint of love handles above strong thighs. Only then that tray dips, and for the first time since 1985 Tommy finds himself looking at the shocked hazel eyes of Steve Harrington. “Oh.”

Carol reacts for him, taking in a breath sharp enough she might puncture a lung. They’ll both wind up suffocated on the floor of this stupid bakery with an awful name, because Tommy can’t manage to breathe at all looking at Steve. Still unfairly handsome, faintly pink at the shock of seeing them too he imagined.

His hair is long, is the first real thought his half fried brain manages to put together. Soft looking even where it’s damp at the temples where sweat has pooled. He has it pulled back with a couple of the same butterfly clips that Carol likes to use.

His second, somehow more hysterical thought: this wasn’t how Steve Harrington was supposed to be included in his wedding.

Tommy was six years old and knew he wanted to marry Steve. When he’d told his mom -- to ask for her ring, Steve thought it was romantic like princes and princesses that they had a special ring that they got married with -- she’d grabbed by his arm so hard it’d left finger shaped bruises. So he’d held that certainty quiet in his heart until he was ten, and suddenly it was okay to want to play with girls on the playground -- he thinks it’s because Steve got tired of there never being an even number when they tried to play kickball, he had a way of making everyone want to do the thing he was. Carol wasn’t afraid to tell Tommy C. that he was dumb or to tell Mark L. that he hadn’t actually made it to the base, Steve liked her fast. Too fast, and Tommy had to tell her that one day he was going to be able to keep Steve all to himself. But he knew that it wasn’t right to say that now, even if he wasn’t all the way sure why it wasn’t. He was ten, but he would be eleven soon, and he took this part of him that he’d kept secret for so long and he whispered it to Carol under the slide while Steve tried to convince Brad P. that he could too pick two people for his kickball team first.

He was ten and Carol said they could share. Boys can’t marry boys, but girls can. So they could both marry her and live together forever.

It became a joke when they finally shared it with Steve, thirteen and boys going out with girls wasn’t funny the way it used to be. Sarah Jane asked Carol if she had a chance at going steady with Steve. She told Tommy about it later and they both told Steve that he was too good to date any of the girls in their grade. “Well I’ve got you guys,” his voice cracked when he said it, throwing an arm around both of them. Carol didn’t care as much, but even she’d noticed the way Steve was changing from boyish to handsome.

They were sixteen and disaster was just around the corner, not that he knew that. Steve dated around but he always came back to them. The head, the heart, the body. They don’t feel complete without each other -- at least Tommy doesn’t. Mr. Kripke, who was hungover more often than he wasn't, passed out ten minutes into study hall. Carol didn’t even wait to see if he’d wake back up before she left her assigned table for theirs. She smoothed out a lined piece of notebook paper for them, and Tommy scoffed like he was supposed to. “Aren’t we a little old to be playing MASH?”

“It’s dirty MASH, and I thought you’d think it was funny.”

“I think it’s funny,” Steve had said, “that you’re getting eiffel towered on your wedding night. Who else is joining in, Carrie?”

“We couldn’t agree on who got you for their side of the aisle. So we’re taking you to bed instead.”

He was sixteen and the way that the two of them looked when they shared a joke was the hottest thing in the world. The way their smiles mirror when they turned to him, sharp and ready to flay open the softest parts of him.

Tommy’s two days older when Steve lets him kiss the taste of Carol out of his mouth.

It was three days after he turned seventeen and he had to pretend he didn't want to die when he saw how Steve looked at Nancy Wheeler. Like he didn’t want to rip his hair out because Steve was fucking infatuated with this mousy little teacher’s pet and wouldn’t even look at him anymore.

He still doesn’t like to think about the breakup. He pokes it like a fresh bruise. Less often now, but when he does he digs his fingers in. Baits Carol into fights he doesn’t mean just so he can pretend like he hasn’t lost something that hurts like a limb.

Steve Harrington turns twenty-eight next week, and he’s standing in front of them both holding pieces of what might turn into their wedding cake.

“Wow I can’t believe you’re in Indy!” False excitement grates, but at least Carol has gotten herself together enough to speak. He thought he’d have at least another few months to prepare for the thought of seeing Steve, by their ten year reunion he was going to be married and happy and over it.

“Yeah, this is- Married, wow! I kinda can’t believe you haven’t already.” He says it to Carol, his platitudes had always been for Carol, but his eyes find Tommy.

While Carol chatters at them and for them both, nervous, he knows she’s nervous. The situation is sudden and strange and fraught. But Tommy just looks at Steve, who looks at him. He’s getting married in three months, one week, and two days from now and for the first time in eleven years Steve is looking at him.

"Takes a while to save up for when you want the best of everything. Dad's still the skinflint he always was, I think he'd pay me less than minimum wage if he could get away with it."

And those soft brown eyes look so sad, looking at him. Sometimes he thinks no one will ever understand him the way that Steve did.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting the best, or having a long engagement." Carol defends. It's the same line she's been giving everyone. Defensive of him and herself and the choices they've been making. He can't believe Steve is someone she thinks they have to defend against.

“I really hope you're happy, man," he says, and the sincerity is a balm on the sting of this conversation. He pushes his hair back from his face, the way he always has when he's uncomfortable and trying not to make it obvious. And there's a fresh new hurt when Tommy catches sight of a plain gold band on Steve's finger, shining bright between the golden highlights of his hair.

“I’m happy about this,” he can say honestly. Carol is one of the only things he’s ever been sure about. She held him steady as she could when his other sure thing left him with a cracked foundation in a convenience store parking lot. “What about you? How long after meeting the future Mrs. Harrington did you wait to put a ring on her finger?”

“Tommy,” Carol chides as the teen in the corner snorts. To anyone else it would sound like a reprimand for being nosy, he, and he suspects Steve, knows she’s telling him to stop worrying a scab that has no hope of healing right.

Married and they didn’t know. Wouldn’t have found out until the reunion. It’s not like he expected an invitation, maybe an engagement announcement sent to their parents’ houses. They’d sent one to Loch Nora when the real ring had finally made it to Carrie’s finger. It was equal parts olive branch and offering. They’d gotten it back return to sender with no forwarding address.

The bell above the door tongs again, loud enough to make Carol jump. The platter of cakes doesn't shift at all in Steve’s hand. His arm shows no sign of fatigue. It’s almost distracting enough that he misses the obvious. The bell signals someone is coming into the store.

“Sorry, Sweetheart. I know I said I wasn't gonna be late but Mike…” There just inside the door is the Freak. Undeniable even with his head down as he digs through his shoulder bag. From the riot of poorly maintained tangles that still hang around his shoulders to the expanded mess of tacky ink on his arms. The only thing that’s changed is the age in his face and the band on his shirt.

“Munson?” Carol has the reflexes and the personal grace to address him first. Shock more than the disgust it might have been when they were still kids.

Tommy feels like a kid still. Looks to Steve in an instinct he’d thought he’d stamped out years ago, only to be met with wide eyes and teeth grit tight enough to draw out the square line of his jaw.

“Christ, I still get nightmares that start like this.” Munson says, eye darting between the three of them. “Max, am I naked?”

“Don't know, don't wanna know.”

“I thought you'd be able to tell by the energy in the room.” He wiggles his fingers, still bedecked in silver, like they can divine the vibrations or some witchy shit.

That’s enough to make Steve break just a little. A soft, exhaling scoff before he finally starts to move out from the counter. Tommy catches, and he doubts Carol misses it either, how Steve passes the closer tables to set his tray down between them and Munson.

“I can tell I don't want to be here for this.” Their redheaded audience member says, “I'm taking my 15.”

“Don't go harass Mike, he's finally working,” Munson says.

“Will and El are on shift on the other side,” Steve calls out, not looking at any of them as he moves cakes from his tray to the table. A deliberate selection he seems to be making.

“Whatever, I’m gonna call Lucas and break up with him so he can play better or whatever.”

“Don’t be too harsh,” Munson calls out, “I’ve only got him on a five point spread.”

If Carol’s nails break from how hard they’re digging into his arm, somehow it’ll be Tommy’s fault. Not the fact that they’ve advanced the worst part of their ten year reunion by months, and also Munson is here and knows shit about basketball.

“Sorry, think my hearing’s going, sounded like you said you want him to lose and he’s getting kicked from the next one shot. I’ll let him know.”

“She gets that from you,” Steve and Munson say in sync. Glaring playfully at one another the way Steve used to with Carol.

“I’ll tell Robin you were-”

“Do not sick Buckley on me, Max made the deaf joke not me.”

“Weird, that’s not what I heard.” Steve has always claimed his hair as his best feature. It isn’t -- Carrie liked his eyes, Tommy his hands -- but it’s hard to deny that it doesn’t look good, flipping over his shoulder. His smile is private, just for Munson, soft the way he got whenever he picked up a new girl. Carrie taps the back of his hand, two sharp smacks, their signal for years that he needed to pay attention and notice something she had. Wide, nervous eyes dart to Steve -- like he hadn’t already been looking at Steve -- so he does his best to assess the way Carol would.

Jealous, viciously, Steve had been theirs in every way that mattered since they were ten years old and Carol had never liked sharing her toys with anyone but them. She watched his face for any sign of unhappiness anytime a new girlfriend came along, and when she found one she passed it along to him. So he could pick and joke until Steve was all theirs again.

So he checked the face. Tried to ignore the way Steve was lit up from the inside out with a joy he could barely remember, and then he saw the hearing aid.

He tapped back, three times. O.M.G.

“The 1985 Homecoming court here to reveal that this has all been a long con, Stevie?”

“Yeah I faked the name change paperwork and picked up a fake ID, sorry I took my business somewhere else.” Steve says it with the sincerity he’s always made those kind of jokes with, his strange sense of humor never coming across when he always sounded so serious.

Munson gets it though, snorts loud and ugly, before a smile pulls wide across half his face the otherside taught with a gnarly scar. “Now I know why my fake ID business went belly up when we got to the city, not like I only sold three in high school.” He gestures to the three of them in a wide arc.

Sophomores, they had decided it was time to throw their first real party now that Steve’s parents had moved out of Hawkins in all but name. Steve was a latchkey kid of new proportions and took to self sufficiency in a way that had seemed adult to him then; and in hindsight looked more like a child fighting for his life. Steve bragged how he’d been saving up the weekly checks they’d sent to ‘sustain him’ while they worked in the city during the week. His contribution to Tommy and Carol’s vague plan to throw a kegger by the pool. When they’d floundered, immediately, with the hows, Steve had been the one to suggest going to Munson.

“Love this preview of the reunion,” Carol cuts in, there’s no bite but Munson bristles anyway like she’s being rude for reminding them that there are customers present. “Steve?”

It’s funny, Tommy thinks, the way Steve still straightens his back at Carol’s tone. All this time and he can’t fight the old ingrained instincts either.

“Dustin made the appointment,” Steve apologizes, even as he’s posture perfect and preparing his pastries. The unsaid, ‘I definitely wouldn’t have’ doesn’t go unheard and it doesn’t sting any less even this far from their last interaction.

“Munson could join us,” Tommy offers, a new olive branch since their last one was never seen. Even if it does raise three sets of brows and makes Carrie’s nervous smile tighten even more in the corner of her mouth.

“Well at least one of us has to,” Munson, Eddie, says. Just says, tone like it was meant to be something said under his breath.

He's grown up a lot since high school, they both have. Still, he's only got twenty minutes left on his lunch break and it's been a long day. "God, is that why it's called that?" Growth, he doesn't say that Steve Munson sounds a lot dumber than Steve Harrington.

"It's charming," Carol and Steve both say. Though Carrie is definitely lying and Steve barely gets it out from between his gritted teeth, a sore spot. He's always been good at finding Steve's bruises.

"It's charming," Tommy agrees, like he always did when he was out voted.

Eddie has a smirk spread across his face and a ‘too proud of himself’ look in his eyes. Mouth open to make some quip that Tommy is going to pretend is funny, for Steve’s sake. Now that they’re here, he’s going to do something to show that they could talk to one another again. Steve clicks his tongue, taps his index and middle finger down to his thumb two quick times before he can.

He turns to the girl in the corner, "Erica, scram, go help Robin and the kids with the new donation that just came in."

The teen continues to scribble in the notebook in front of her, bulky headphones over her ears, she makes no sign that Tommy can see that she's heard Steve speak. "Erica, go, or I'll tell your mother you moved out of the dorms. You're 20, it's not child labor, and you've got a timecard."

She sighs and wordlessly packs up her things, she gives Steve a scathing look that takes Tommy back to high school. The withering eyebrow and rolled eyes would have been just at home on Steve’s own face in 1985, but she marches behind the counter, the sound of her dish rattling in the sink before she disappears out the same door that the redhead had gone out.

Now that the room has been cleared, an awkward silence has found the space to squeeze in. Munson, the original, still standing in the doorway and Steve standing between his unlawfully wedded husband and the two people who had lost their chance at him years ago.

The wedding and the reunion both on the horizon had dredged up a nostalgia that Tommy and Carol had been dealing with in their own ways. Dredging up old yearbooks, Carol had found a shoebox of old notes that she’d kept. Conversations written in three different inks by three different hands, nonsensical after all this time. Tommy woke up from dreams that he hadn’t had in years. Always of Steve and Carol, a study in opposites, but similar where it mattered.

“Well,” Steve says, taking charge of the situation like he always would when the other two faltered, “you’re here for a reason. We might as well get started on it.”

Steve’s fingerprints are still on them, just like he’d noticed theirs on him, molded as they were together. They’ve always bowed to his expectations, and his whims. When he ushers them to the table with a spread hand, Tommy and Carol go where they’re beckoned.

And so does Munson.

They keep an empty chair between them, an artificial divide for Tommy’s sanity, but with the sprawl of Munson’s legs their knees still occasionally brush together. Carol had taken the spot closest to Steve, who has stayed standing. He is their gracious host, marking the head of the round table.

“I pulled out the full sampler before I realized it was you,” Steve says. Even with as off balance as the interaction has felt, Tommy doesn’t feel his hackles raising. While it’s possible he’s gotten more subtle with his digs, Steve’s vicious tongue was usually unmistakable. “I can tell you about as many of them as you want though if you want to pretend like we don’t already know what I’ll be making you. I’m sure neither of you have eaten lunch yet.”

“You are going to take us on?” Carol asks. Shock always gives her tone an extra edge, defensive and catty, even if she’s really just waiting to see if another shoe will drop.

“Obviously,” Steve says, placing a faintly orange square of cake in front of her. He slaps Eddie’s hand away from another piece without looking away from either of them. “That’s as far as I’ll be going in participation though.”

He doesn’t miss the way Steve’s mouth twitches up with the joke, a filthy smirk that leaves Tommy flushing hot. Too warm to not be a bright and obvious red at the acknowledgment of that old private in-joke.

It doesn’t get better when Carol moans, “Oh my god, Steve!” Even if it is about the cake.

He laughs, and Tommy suspects the two are actually trying to kill him. He chances a glance over at Munson who looks like he doesn’t care at all that his husband has made Tommy’s fiance moan. He is watching Tommy though, an inquisitive look like the one Carol gets when she happens to catch a nature documentary.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees with Carol, “I’ll do something small with that citrus cake for you and Tom so you’ve got something you’ll actually eat on your wedding, maybe a pineapple buttercream on top like that nasty Juicy Fruit gum you like so much.”

“I mean it’s really crazy how you’re so good at this when you’ve never had any taste,” Carol compliments, she never did learn how to be nice.

He could probably count Steve’s teeth in the answering smile. Tommy can feel it like an ache in his chest how much he missed this. He snatches another cube of cake off the tray just so has something else to focus on.

“That’s the fancy one for the people who hate their guests,” Munson says as the cake has settled on the flat of Tommy’s tongue.

“It’s lavender,” Steve corrects, and the floral flavor is lodged in the back of his throat at least gives him a reason now to feel so choked up. “And it is for a particular sort of bride.”

“Are you saying I’m not fancy and particular, Munson?” Carol asks.

She’s obviously talking to Eddie Munson, who lifts his hands up in answer. But it’s Steve who says, “If you tried to feed that to Gail she would leave the reception bitching the whole time.”

“Well go on,” Tommy finds himself goading now that he’s swallowed, “finish calling your shot, Stevie. You said you knew what we were walking out of here with.”

Carol reaches across the table, locking eyes with Eddie as she snags the piece closest to him. The one his fingers had been inching toward like he thought Steve wouldn’t notice him trying to take it.

“I’ll make a small citrus cake for you, Carrie, we’ll hide it in the back of the larger cake so you can get the pictures of you cutting it and smashing into each other's faces-”

“We will not be doing that,” she interrupts, the warning for him and also unnecessary. He already knows how she feels about being embarrassed in public.

“Then the big cake for your guests will be a chocolate cake, I can cover it in a buttercream or a fondant icing also chocolate, because it’s the only kind of cake the Hagan family will eat. Even though I’m sure John hasn’t given you a dime for the wedding, he’ll complain until Hannah gets married if he doesn’t like the cake.”

“Really,” Steve continues, “the only thing up in the air is how many people you were able to get away with not inviting, Care.”

The two of them start talking actual wedding logistics, and as Tommy grabs another bite of cake -- this one looks like it might be a normal flavor -- he figures the real show of good faith would be talking to the only other person at the table while he eats what Steve correctly dubbed his lunch.

“Y’know he never actually answered me,” he says in an undertone.

Munson seems surprised at being spoken to, only widens his eyes in response to Tommy’s unasked question.

“I asked Steve how soon after the first date he proposed, he never actually answered.”

Eddie softens at the edges before he can even say anything. Steve had a way of doing that, bringing out the romantic in a person. He loved with a passion that demanded it be matched. “Technically I proposed to him, but he says it doesn’t count because we weren’t together and I was high on morphine after a major surgery and thought he was Apollo, come to whisk me away.” The smile on Munson’s face looks dopey and drugged up now, like the very memory of whatever hospital stay is so ingrained in his mind he can feel the high now.

“But,” he goes on, “he told me we were getting married whether it was legal or not about three months after he got legally married to another woman.”

“Stop,” Steve has always been able to sense when he’s about to be the butt of the joke. He has a finger pointed at Eddie like a teacher delivering a lecture. “You can’t tell people that. It was for tax reasons, I’m not cheating on my wife.”

“You say tomato, I say whichever one of us is your least favorite has to be the extramarital affair.”

“I say, you’re the most obnoxious person I’ve ever met.” Tommy can hear the warm affection behind the insult, the way their picking is a safer way to express their passion for one another.

He thought he would be jealous of whoever finally managed to reel in Steve Harrington for good, and he is. The emotion is there, present in the snarling tangle of emotions that this encounter has left in him. One that he and Carol will have to slowly tease and pick out tonight when they’re home in bed. Trying to make sense of what each thread is and what it means for them. But the one bright pulsing thread he can make sense of is happiness. He’s happy for Steve, happy that he gets to see an old friend so at ease and obviously cared for.

And he’s sad that his time is up, his lunch hour so close to an end he’ll be late getting back to the office. Something he can already hear his Dad and fucking Greg giving him shit for. Which means they have to end their time here.

Steve walks them to the door, flips the sign to mark them closed for lunch.

“Congratulations again, you two,” he says, “I really am happy I can get to be a part of this with you all. Even if it’s a little different than we used to imagine.”

Carol reaches out for the both of them, puts her hand on his arm. Tommy finds that he’s the one who actually says, “We’re glad you found someone who makes you this happy, dude. You deserve it.”

“Yeah, he’s alright most of the time.” It's said with such fondness it becomes a declaration. It’s hard to imagine how they thought they could ever be the something that could make Steve this happy. But maybe in a different life, under different circumstances it could have been.

There’s a minute where they all stand in the doorway. He wonders if they’re all afraid that this might be the last time they see each other, speak to one another, until Steve is delivering the cake on the day of the wedding. Maybe it’s just him, he was the one who pushed back the hardest after things ended.

Someone finally gives in and pushes the door open. It’s TONG a death toll for their current conversation. But it also sends a jolt through Steve, he straightens to his full height like a shock has gone through him. “Here,” he says, “here, um.” He digs around in his apron until he finds a pen and a receipt pad. Jots down something before tearing it off and putting it in Tommy’s hands, “It's our home number, in case you have any cake emergencies or something.”

They really can’t stay any longer.

Carol takes the note, better at keeping track of these things than Tommy is. It’s hard to know if they’ll actually use it, maybe after they talk about it, but if they do she’ll be the one to do it. She’s always been braver than him.

There’s no way of guaranteeing anything but the fact that they’ll have a cake on the table on their wedding day. But he hopes that Steve might stay for the ceremony once he brings it, he can even bring Eddie if that’s what gets him there.

Alone in his car, Tommy lets himself take a minute to think about Steve Harrington one last time. He isn’t going to get what he wanted as a kid. Doubts that he’ll ever be as close to Steve as he’d been in childhood, too much time has passed and too much has changed.

But there’s an opportunity to get to know Steve Munson, and he isn't going to pass it up. Even if he doesn’t know how to name a bakery.

#steddie #steddie fic #implied past stomarol #Baker Steve Harrington #my fic #tommy x carol #tomarol #genuinely don't know what their ship name is I'm sorry #future fic #the author is experiencing some complicated emotions about their 10 year reunion and this is now the second fic I've posted this year-#-that's mentioned one so clearly forcing fictional characters to emote about it for me is not working #the terrible trio do own every business in the little storefront Tommy mentions and they employ the kids who they have a stable income-#-while they work on their passion projects

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microwave-core · 1 year

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Oh God it's more Headcanons

To prepare for XC3 (because the DLC drops at like 9pm for some reason) I wrote more headcanons, mainly because I didn't have a specific character in mind to drabble about.

Sonia my beloved. God, Galar has so many great characters and yet I just don’t have the time to write for all of them… even those with banger designs. Anyways, Sonia. Where to even start with her.

Her hair is a mess. Humidity is her worst enemy. She spends dozens of minutes a day attempting to detangle it when the weather goes to shit. She would be forever indebted to you if you brushed her hair for her. Please just be careful, she will complain if you tug too hard.

Also be careful if you sleep next to her at night, because you very well may end up choking on her hair. Even just cuddling is risky business. You are never safe, not even if you are the little spoon. But it’s worth it because Sonia runs very warm, so it’s always comfy to hold her or rest in her arms.

Speaking of hair, she wants to style yours. Doesn’t matter what kind of hair you’ve got, she’ll find a way. Straight or curly or coils or braids or what have you, she will play with it. Doesn’t matter how long it is either. If you ask for a specific style, she’ll do it, but at some point she will weave little hearts into it to match her own. Don’t ask how she does it, it’s a secret.

Anyways, enough about that. I am absolutely obsessed with the idea of a kid rocking up to get their first pokemon from the Professor and her wife and their adopted son assistant. She’s just… so powerful I love her so much.

Hop loves you. He ships you so hard with Sonia it’s unreal. He is Galar’s best wingman and will do everything in his power to get you two alone together. You guys could literally be married already and he would still be trying to set you guys up. And Leon is no different. Sonia’s his best friend and she talks about you all the time. This guy knows how much Sonia loves you and wants nothing more than for you two to be happy together. Sometimes a family is just a professor, her wife, their assistant, and his brother.

Not enough content for Big Sis Plumeria. She’s gotta take care of basically all Team Skull because they would never get anything done without her around, so she’d be immensely grateful if you either helped corral them or help her relax after constantly chasing after them.

She’s very much an “asshole to the world, sweetheart to her girl” type of girlfriend, mixed in with some tough love. She would never raise her voice at you or seriously insult you, something she does often with the grunts. The most she’ll do is mildly insult you for doing something stupid (as in she would call you an “idiot” or something along those lines), but it’s always evident that she’s more concerned than upset.

As long as you're her girl, no one is going to mess with you. Especially if you have a storied history. Asshole ex? Shitty family members? Straight up enemies? You don’t have to worry about those people anymore.

Oh also all of the Team Skull grunts look up to you and would literally die for you. You’re Big Sis Two, their third favorite person. Also, if anything happened to you on their watch, they would have to face Plumeria’s wrath, which might as well be worse then Guzma’s

Slightly older contest-star Shauna who, despite being pretty girl-crazy, attempts to navigate her first serious relationship. I realize that I like Shauna more than most people, but hear me out.

When she went on a journey through Kalos with her friends, like stated above, she was completely girl-crazy. Literally every girl she met was the absolute prettiest woman she had ever seen (especially Diantha). But she never ended up getting into a relationship, despite wishing otherwise.

When she meets you, she is absolutely smitten. When you’re just friends, she dreams about you every waking minute. She really, really wants to hold your hand and kiss you and go on cute little dates to restaurants and picnics and do contests together and go shopping together and and everything else girlfriends do. She is obsessed.

But once you start dating her, she’s a mess. She has all these things she wants to do with you, but she doesn’t know how to go about doing any of them, so sometimes she comes off as a little awkward in the most endearing way possible. She’s a little clumsy and hesitant when initiating affection, but every little thing you do together makes her so happy. It’s got the energy of a cute high school romance, just two dumbasses in love with each other.

Also she’s super supportive of you. Like Marnie, she is your personal cheerleader. She’ll bring up your achievements to everyone she comes across because she needs everyone to know how great you are and how lucky she is to be dating you. Please be supportive of her in return, she would actually ascend to heaven if she saw you in the audience of one of her contests.

Zisu… big woman. I don’t even have words to describe this absolute unit of a woman. She is far too powerful to fully put into words. Her strength is seemingly unending. She canonically trains with pokemon with her bare hands and could absolutely fuck all of them up.

She can bench press your ass, no matter your size or stature. She’ll carry you anywhere you want whenever you want, she’ll get anything you need off of the top shelf, she will lift up anything you need for whatever reason, and she will give you a little kiss on the forehead because she loves you very much.

If you’re afraid of Pokemon (which is pretty likely given the time period), she will do whatever it takes to help you get over your fears. Zisu is all the protection you need in Hisui. No Pokemon will ever get past her. But she would also like to help you get more comfortable with them, if nothing more than for her peace of mind. She can’t be there all the time, given her position in Team Galaxy.

But if you have a strong team, she would love to train with you. If you managed to beat her, she would love you forever. She’s hella strong, so she finds you being stronger than her in one aspect incredibly attractive. And if you managed to beat her in hand to hand combat? She would never recover.

I think Larry is objectively the funniest gym leader, but I whole-heartedly believe Iono is right behind him. I just think she is a funny little guy with an absolutely banger design.

As the most popular streamer in Paldea (I think), people across the region are going to know that you're dating. There is nothing you can do to avoid it. And Iono doesn’t want to hide your relationship. She wants to show you off.

Showing up on stream at least a few times is a mandatory part of dating her. Both Iono and chat love when you’re there. Sometimes Iono will warn you about what she’s planning beforehand, but other times she’ll leave you in the dark. Don’t worry, though, she won’t ever do anything that will make you uncomfortable.

More importantly, when dating Iono, you get to see the normal her, without the energetic streamer persona. Not to say that she’s completely different on stream, she just amps everything up for the camera. Off camera, she just wants to lay down with you and chill out. Let her complain about the weird people in her chat while you hold her close, she desperately needs it.

Outside of that, this girl loves to gossip. Tell her all about the drama you're dealing with or about the people you just don’t like, she eats that shit up. Likewise, she’ll also “spill the tea” as the kids say. She’s got a lot of people and things to tell you about, both big and small. Just promise to not blab to others about those she complains about. She already has to deal with too much weird shit to have time to deal with additional drama from other people.

Flannery is, like, an og waifu, or something like that. Anyways I like her because her design is sick and so is her gym aesthetic (at least in oras). Girlypop is confident in her abilities but she also only has a vague idea of what she’s doing and is just trying her best.

Being a rookie gym leader is hard, even if she is highly skilled. More importantly, it’s stressful. Thankfully, Lavaridge has a hot spring, giving her a perfect way to relax at the end of the day, and she is borderline desperate for you to join her. Listen, she just radiates disaster lesbian. Being in your presence helps her unwind as is, so pairing you up with the hotspring makes her melt.

She is very dedicated to her training and would love it if you were to join her sometime. Be warned, it gets uncomfortably hot and you will most likely regret it almost immediately, so be prepared. She doesn’t ask you to join her because she doesn’t want you to accidentally strain yourself due to how rigorous it gets, but she’d let you if you asked (after warning you of how difficult it would be, of course).

She seems like someone that would enjoy hiking. Conveniently, there is a volcano right nearby to track up. Flannery desperately wants you to come with her because it would give her a chance to share something she loves with someone she loves. Don’t worry about getting tired, she will carry you up the remainder of the track, no sweat. When you make it to the top (or just find a clearing to rest at), you get to gaze at the beautiful scenery with her.

Okay I now realize that I didn’t do much outside of the first point to show how much of a disaster she is but she just like… is. I cannot explain it, that is just the vibe she has. So even if she seems confident and held together in your presence, she is screaming in her head because you’re so pretty and she loves you AAAAA.

Oh shit I forgot about Tymeand Ryme for the gilf section of the last headcanon post fuck. Uhhhhh, I like them in the same way as the other gilfs in that they’re cool but ultimately they are funny little grandmas, so here comes your grandma posting.

Like the others, Tyme would totally bake you cookies and while eating them would help you do math. I don’t care if you’re not taking some kind of math class or if you're a student at all, she is going to help you do math. Someone has to teach you how to do your taxes, right? If that is not enough to entice you, then perhaps you would like to see her very cool rock collection, because she would totally have one, and a big one at that. Unrelated, but if you give her any kind of rock she could identify it immediately and would also cherish it dearly.

Ryme is the cool grandma. She doesn’t have time to bake cookies (she isn’t very good at it), but she makes up for it in other ways. You want to see a band or artist live? Just tell her, she’ll find a way to get you to that concert. She’d also let you get away with a lot of things, letting you off easy where others would be upset. Like, if you got into a fight with someone, she would lightly scold you then immediately ask if you won. She’d be really proud if you did and would comfort you if you didn’t. Also teaches you how to rap, but that much should be obvious.

Hopefully this is the last of the grandma posting because if I do this again it means I forgot someone else and I don’t think I did. I guess if there’s one major appeal to the gilfs it’s the domesticity of them? Like, you get the ideal of living your life alongside one another for such a long time, which is the dream, really. Girl I don’t know I’m gonna get back to regular unhinged scenarios sorry about this.

One professor was not enough for one post apparently because I wanna talk about Professor Juniper, the original hot professor. Ever the reliable woman, she will do all she can to lend a hand should you need it, but in return you need to put up with her deciding to do things before confirming with the other people involved beforehand.

Unlike most professors, Juniper has another professor to rely on, that being the other Juniper, so she does have a bit more free time on her hands. That being said, she is often doing things for other people, so she is pretty much as busy as the others. But because she’s just helping out other people and not completing research, she is definitely more accessible. Not going to say that she would hold off on helping someone to come help you if you were to need it, but she would do that (assuming that what she was doing before wasn’t urgent).

She loves to travel around the region, and would love it if you joined her. It’s not really a date, but it’s good quality time. Most of it is taken up by her rambling about the Pokemon that can be found in the area. She would also love it if you lent her a hand in her research. It’s a fun and cute little bonding activity, and it means you can spend more time together afterwards.

Like Sonia, the idea of rocking up to a lab only to be met by the professor and her loving wife is a very powerful one, but Sonia remains more powerful. After all, Juniper doesn’t usually give kids their starters in person, nor does she have an assistant whom she and her wife can semi-adopt.

As a side note, I considered using her first name because she has one, but I don’t know if that is common knowledge. It pops up at the very beginning of B2W2, but I didn’t realize it was there until, like, two days ago.

Oh my God I forgot about Professor Magnolia because she isn’t even on my list of characters. I am so upset. And no I’m not going to fix this my moving her up to be with Tyme and Ryme because I need it to be known that I fucked this up here’s your grandma posting again and if I mess this up for a fourth time I’m going to be so upset with myself.

Magnolia is just a chill grandma. She always has cookies in her kitchen to give to Sonia. I’m pretty sure they live together so it’s not like she’s visiting her, but she feels that her granddaughter should always have access to finely made cookies. If you were to come over, she would break them out along with tea and have a surprisingly intellectual conversation. She may have given the professor title to Sonia, but she continues to delve into research, if nothing to fulfill her own self-interest.

These visits are especially interesting if you were, say, dating Sonia. She would give you all kinds of stories from when she was growing up. They aren’t particularly embarrassing, per say, but they usually embarrass Sonia anyways. She’s happy that her granddaughter has found both a path in life and someone to spend it with. In general, she would be interested in you as a person. She wants to have a good relationship with her future granddaughter-in-law, after all!

I swear to God if I forget another grandma (besides Cogita because I already write about her plenty) I’m going to lose it.

Let’s end this one with Misty. She’s normally sweet and bright, but she has a tendency to get snappy when annoyed, which tends to leave a greater impression on people than her regular nature since she easily gets frustrated.

Like all gym leaders, she has lots of responsibilities and is busy and also has an affinity for the type she uses. This is especially true for her since most of her designs are just swimsuits (good for you girlie). She will take you on walks all over Cerulean, as well as swimming in the water surrounding it. It’s her happy place, and she gets really annoyed when people interrupt the tranquil moment.

Sorry to say that it usually falls to you to keep her temper down in those situations. Remind her that it’s probably just a challenger looking to continue their journey and that you’ll get to continue your little date when she’s done. She’s still going to be annoyed, but it’s hard for her to remain bitter when she knows she gets to spend more time with you soon.

At some point, she wants to leave Cerulean and its gym for a while in order to go on a journey of her own. When she does, she wants you to come with her. Nothing sounds better to her than getting lost (metaphorically, she can’t stand actually getting lost) in nature with you by her side. Hopefully you don’t have something that could fry her bike because that would be pretty unfortunate.

I would say her sisters are supportive but they aren’t really there enough to know much about you. Sorry Misty. It’s a shame that they’ve been on the same cruise for twenty years. Someone should really check in with them.

#pokemon x reader #fem reader #im so fucking hyped for future reedemed #i am going to know what riku is even if it kills me #anyways probably not going to be writing in awhile #so don't expect many more posts in the immediate future #incoming tag hell #sonia x reader #plumeria x reader #shauna x reader #zisu x reader #iono x reader #flannery x reader #professor juniper x reader #misty x reader #gilf posting #think i got them all #i dont think half of these are tags but whatever #i will fill these tags myself i guess

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