Steddie kinda famous AU(?) | Genderfluid Stevie <3 | Eddie is a rat man and I laugh at him (I would probably be like that if I was Steve Harrington husband but that's not about me) | Live laugh love Stevie | Pushing the history teacher Steve agenda because he's a variant of Hob Gadling >:D
[I'm sorry if it has errors it's been a while since I had written something in English (it's not my first language) so whatever mistake I have feel free to tell me and I'll edit <3]
. ° — ° — 🌟 — ° — ° .
Corroded Coffin seemed to be popular, things were getting better for them, they still had to do part time job because of that 'what if?' but things were going well. Definitely.
In an interview they asked about a song, the meaning. And the shit man Eddie Munson is, he answered with a grin on his face "That's about Stevie, as most of them".
And the fans went crazy, trying to find someone with that name in the Corroded Coffin set or working at some usual bar they played at.
"They is a history teacher" Eddie Munson told the world in another interview "and we are married" he showed the camera a ring he had next to his guitar pick on his neck, he had the biggest smirk on his face.
Then Corroded Coffin were guests of a fundraising gala, they were asked to play at it to attract more people. It was a fancy gala tho, everyone was in their bests dresses and all.
"This one's for my beautiful angel there, who looks as gorgeous as always" And Eddie winked at a special balcony of the vip guests.
Most of the public saw Eddie laughing softly, but they didn't know why. In that balcony a lovely brunette in a marion blue dress gave the guitarist and second voice of Corroded Coffin the middle finger as he had a stupid lovely gaze on their face while she blushed a little.
"Yeah love ya too sweetie" Eddie chuckled before starting with the show.
Later at the gala people saw Eddie Munson next to the tall brunette in that marion dress.
"So are you Eddie's girlfriend?" An interviewer asked, he looked at Stevie with those eyes Eddie didn't like.
But Eddie laughed as he waited for Steve's answer, that was going to be good as hell, they had the bitchy face on.
"Not a girl" Steve smirked "And definitely not his girlfriend, nor boyfriend, nor partner" She looked down at the man, who seemed so little compared to them "He's my husband"
"I am" Eddie smiled so stupidly in love as he looked up at Stevie, who usually wasn't that tall but with the black heels they was wearing today the difference was more than usual.
"Uh— Yeah" The interviewer looked at different places to get outta there
"You got any problem with that sir?"
"N-no it's perfectly fine ma'am— I mean sir— I mean—"
Steve snorted "Come on darling, let's go somewhere else without this kind of people"
And where Stevie went Eddie followed
The amount of edits with the song 'walk em like a dog' after that gala were more than years the Earth has.
"Teddy, look, another one" Steve chuckled as she showed Eddie his phone.
"Stop with that, you menace" Eddie laid down on the couch, next to his significant other, trying to take their phone away playfully.
"Erica is going to bully you so bad" Stevie giggled.
"And Red too" Eddie sighed "Jesus Christ, Stevie I am like that always?"
"It's cute"
"I hate you" Eddie muttered as Steve put on the baseball match of today.
"Love you too sunshine" She smiled softly as they started playing with Eddie's hair.
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scars
empires superpowers au masterlist (not up to date)
i have no clue where this idea came from but here *hands you a tattooed jimmy*
this takes place about 8 months after then end of ‘poisoned rats’.
cw: past abuse, mentions of needles, scars
~
“Look at that one,” Jimmy points at the screen; Scott pauses in his scrolling. “It’s a poppy. You love poppies.”
“. . . I do,” Scott says, glancing at Jimmy quickly before resuming the scroll.
“That one’s a flag, but it could be a pride flag. That’s why I saved it. The birds are a bit cheesy, but I thought I’d include them anyway.”
Scott doesn’t say anything, just keeps scrolling through the document. He knew Jimmy had been researching something, but . . . he hadn’t been expecting this.
Before him, on Jimmy’s laptop, is a three-page document that is a collage of tattoos.
Some are better than others—there’s a celtic knot that looks pretty bad, and Jimmy’s right about the birds being cheesy, but the poppy is understated and delicate, and a cute cartoon cat makes him smile.
That’s all well and good, but the problem is: Scott has no clue why Jimmy is showing him tattoos.
Jimmy points at a bundle of stars, saying something about how it reminded him of Scott, then at a feather, then a ladder, which he explains could be combined with the stars. He quickly passes over an abstract canary, hands twitching and tripping over his words, to point out an intricate subway car, then a tiny soccer ball.
Scott interrupts right as Jimmy starts to explain an iceberg tattoo.
“Jimmy, I—this is great, but I don’t think I understand. Are you wanting me to get a tattoo?”
Jimmy blinks, laughs nervously. “I—Scott, these are—these are cover-ups. For scars.”
Oh.
Suddenly, there’s a lump in Scott’s throat.
“I—a tattoo is a big decision,” Scott manages to say around the lump, his eyes catching on a long scar down Jimmy’s left bicep. “It’s something you can’t change. Are you sure?”
Jimmy levels an exasperated look at him. “For one thing, I’m an adult. I know it’s a big decision, you don’t have to remind me. And I promise I’ve thought about this. I shouldn’t have to tell you that I have.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Scott starts to amend, but Jimmy forges on.
“It’s my body,” he says. “It’s mine, and I can have the freedom to do what I want with it, because I’m an adult and it belongs to me. And when you—when you asked if I was sure, it felt like you were treating me like a kid, or like I don’t own my body. And it felt bad.”
Shame curls in his stomach. Jimmy’s right, he shouldn’t have responded like that. It’s perfectly normal for people to get tattoos, and for their partners to support them in it. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again. “I didn’t think before speaking. I said something my parents would’ve said, and I should have considered what you just told me.”
Jimmy smiles, leans his head against Scott’s shoulder. “It’s fine. I was showing you because I wanted your opinion, and it’s all right if you don’t like the idea of a tattoo. But I would’ve liked for you to say that outright if that’s true, instead of telling me things I already knew.”
“No, I think it’s a great idea,” Scott hurries to amend. He pauses, taking a moment to get his thoughts in order. They’re working on having more open conversations, so that they don’t have repeat events of Scott’s Nightmare Situation of Last Month, as they’ve dubbed it. “I think a lot of tattoos are good,” he says eventually, “but some suck. So I’m happy you’re asking my opinion, because I don’t know if I’d be able to look my boyfriend in the eyes if he got a skull surrounded in roses on his bicep.”
That gets a laugh out of Jimmy. “Don’t think yours is the only opinion I’m getting,” he teases. “I know better than to trust a man who dyed his hair red all through college.”
“It looked good!”
They look at tattoos for a little while, Scott immediately vetoing the trio of birds and a guitar. Together, they separate the pages into ‘no’ ‘maybe’ and ‘yes’ images, dragging the little Darth Vader holding a lightsaber (a scar being the lightsaber) into ‘maybe’ and the celtic knot into ‘no’ and so on, until about half of the tattoos have been sorted.
And if they get distracted halfway through and end up making out right there on the couch? Well, they can always finish it later.
-
Three weeks later, Jimmy exits the tattoo parlor with the long, thin scar on his left bicep covered by a poppy, red and irritated from the procedure. Scott had been with him the whole time, holding his hand. They’d had to call for a break halfway through, but it had overall gone very well, and Jimmy had gotten into the passenger seat with a huge grin on his face.
“I thought I would be scared of the needle, but it wasn’t even that bad!” Jimmy says excitedly, twisting his arm around to check out the plastic-wrapped tattoo. “Did you hear when she said I was really good at staying still, especially for my first time? I’m going to get a good grade in tattoos, which is both normal to want and possible to achieve.”
Scott laughs out loud at the meme reference, resolving not to think about why it is that Jimmy’s so good at not moving while needles are stuck into him.
“Do you like it?” Scott asks instead, adjusting the rearview mirror before shifting the car into gear.
Jimmy doesn’t answer for a long moment. When Scott glances over at him, he’s let his arm fall, staring straight ahead, chewing thoughtfully on his lip.
“Yeah,” he decides eventually. “I really do. Now when I look at it in the mirror, I can be reminded of you instead of them. And . . . I can make choices with my body. That feels really good.”
“I can imagine.”
Jimmy twists his arm around again, peering at what little of the tattoo can be seen through the plastic. “I like it,” he says, quieter. “Do you like it?”
“It was my top choice, Jimmy,” Scott reminds him. “And it looks cute on you. Much better than that fish would.”
Jimmy snorts. “You know what, since it was Lizzie’s idea, I’ll tell her I’ll only get it if she gets it too.”
“Please—if you get fish, get a different one,” begs Scott. “It was huge, it had that horrible ‘gone fishing’ sign—get something cute, not something that screams fifty-year-old midlife crisis.”
That gets a laugh out of his boyfriend, and a little tension that had been in Scott’s body since before the appointment finally dissipates, allowing his shoulders to ease and his fingers to loosen their grip on the wheel.
“I’ve been watching videos on word cover-ups, so I think I might get one of those,” Jimmy says when they’re almost home. “I’m . . . I think it would help, even though I can still trace the letters. But I’d like to try scar treatment first, so I don’t think I’m gonna get another tattoo any time soon.”
“And here I was thinking my boyfriend was about to get all inked up and awesome,” Scott teases.
“And something for words would have to be really big, and there’s not much I want that’s good for that,” Jimmy continues. He glances at Scott quickly, then turns his gaze out the window. “That’s life, I guess.”
Scott thinks that’s the end of the conversation. He’s happy leaving it there, with vague plans and ideas in mind to experiment with.
But later that evening, at home, as Jimmy washes dishes and Scott dries them, Jimmy blurts out, “Would I be wrong for wanting a canary tattoo?”
Scott pauses. “Um. No?”
Jimmy sighs. “See, it’s the only one that I think I would want that’s big enough and colorful enough to cover any words. But I don’t know that I could be okay with having it cover up one of those words, because of . . . connotations. But also. . . .” he sighs again, sets down his dishcloth.
“Scott, being the Canary was the only freedom I had, as awful as it was,” Jimmy explains, and it’s a credit to how far he’s come that Jimmy’s voice doesn’t even shake. “I didn’t love it, but I could go outside. I could literally fly. And I looked pretty cool, honestly. So if I got another tattoo, I think it would be a canary, but . . . I’m afraid that’ll cause more harm than good, with my mental health and all.”
“I . . . don’t know,” Scott says honestly, sliding a plate into place in the cupboard. “I’m not in your head. And it’s not my body. But you don’t have to decide today. You don’t have to decide any time soon. You can talk about it with other people, and with Nora. And we can start looking into scar treatment, if you think you’re ready for that.”
Jimmy picks up the cloth again, runs it under the water. “I don’t know,” he says eventually, voice unreadable. His face has set back into that guarded look, the one that Scott is now so familiar with. “Maybe.”
Whatever Jimmy’s unspoken other concerns are (and Scott knows that they exist, he can tell in the tenseness of his stance), Jimmy abandons that topic of conversation. He doesn’t bring up tattoos again for weeks.
But every so often, Scott catches him admiring the poppy, and he can’t help but feel a bubble of happiness.
Jimmy finally has a good reason to look in a mirror.
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Okay I thought I was done but apparently I'm not. I need to talk more about this banter you can get during the Legacy DLC between Aveline and Warden Carver because it makes me want to scream.
Aveline: I'm glad you found a place with the Wardens.
Carver: Well, it's not the city guard, but it'll do.
Aveline: Carver... it wasn't the place for you.
Carver: No, it's all right. It is. It cost a lot, but I get it. I really was a bit of a tit those days, wasn't I?
Aveline: Well...
In my last post, I talked about how Aveline had no place telling the guard to refuse Carver's application, regardless of if he was "right" for the job or not. But I believe he would've made a great guard, and getting that job not only would've provided for him and his family during a desperate time, but would've prevented him from either fate of becoming a warden or a templar. He was unfairly robbed of a chance to prove himself because Aveline believed he wasn't right for the guard.
This is one of the banters I brought up but didn't go too in depth about. At this point, it's been between 3-6 years since Act 1, depending on if you decided to do Legacy in Act 2 or Act 3, and every line here is important.
Carver's response to Aveline saying she's glad he "found a place" with the wardens is so telling. Not being accepted by the guard is still on his mind after all this time. He wouldn't bring it up if it didn't still bother him, and implies that he still would've preferred the guard over the wardens.
Which... yeah. Listen, I'm a dedicated "Carver joins the Grey Warden" player. I don't like leaving him behind to become a templar, and I certainly don't like him dying. For me, the Grey Wardens are the best outcome he has. It’s where he seems the happiest and finds the most fulfilment, and it fits well with how I play my Hawke. But it obviously has some tragic issues.
Like the fact that becoming a Grey Warden only delayed his inevitable death within the Deep Roads. Eventually his Calling will come, and Carver will go back down there and fight until the darkspawn eventually kill him. I'm sure that's not traumatic to think about given he was a soldier at Ostagar and then watched Bethany die at the hands of an ogre. Oh, and there's the whole nightmares and voices thing.
Carver didn't choose this life for himself. It was either this or death, but a "what if?" still lingers in his mind about the city guard.
Something Aveline ruined for him.
And continues to ruin.
Aveline: Carver... it wasn't the place for you.
You hear that? In the distance? That's me screaming.
I must reiterate; what makes Aveline believe it's her place to tell Carver whether or not the city guard was right for him? Why did she think she should get a say in whether or not the guard takes him? What's made it HER call?
And still, after all this time has passed, she believes it wasn't right for him and she's unwilling to consider otherwise. Maker forbid she do some reflection and question if she was in the right for interfering at all, too!
Carver is standing right there before her, proving everything she said about him wrong, and she just doubles down. There's no reason to say this to him unless she's trying to remind him of his place; he's a Grey Warden, and she's Guard-Captain of Kirkwall's city guard. But c'mon, Aveline, he's hardly a threat to your precious guard anymore given the whole dedication to killing darkspawn thing he has now.
Maybe if you paid more attention to the threats within your guard, Kirkwall would be a safer place with less murder going around? Just saying!
But isn't that how it's always been? Aveline putting him in his place, making sure Carver remembers she's always outranked him?
Carver: Did you approve my application?
Aveline: I can't make you a guard, Carver.
Carver: We were both soldiers. Why won't they take me?
Aveline: I was an officer. And I follow orders.
Carver: [laughs] No you don't.
Aveline: I also think of others before myself. You seem tired of that, and that's dangerous.
Carver: Just when it's not my choice. You told them not to take me, didn't you?
Aveline: Yes.
That he should remember who he's talking to?
Carver: I'm surprised you still travel with us, Aveline.
Aveline: Carver, don't.
Carver: You're ever so busy with the guardsmen. It must be a burden to slum with the refugees.
Aveline: It's oddly comforting that you insult me like I'm family.
Carver: That wasn't... no, I didn't mean that.
Aveline: I know. But you should be glad that's how I took it.
That she's in charge?
Aveline: Your form's sloppy, Carver. Stiffen up or the darkspawn will take your blade.
Carver: Right. I'll keep that in mind.
Aveline: And you're angry, why?
Carver: You didn't fare any better than I did the last time we faced darkspawn.
Aveline: If they take your blade, people die. That's not happening again. Stiffen up.
Carver: Yes ma'am.
Oh, and she used to spy on him [and Hawke].
Aveline: I don't like some of the people you've been associating with, Carver.
Carver: Talk to my brother/sister. He/She's the one in charge.
Aveline: Maybe, but I know you get around. This city's full of people who are dead set on ending badly. I don't want to see you end up the same way.
Carver: Would asking you to stop spying on me help in the least?
Aveline: No.
That's their banter.
But sure, she's glad he found a place in the wardens. I don't think she's being ingenuine when she says that, but I think it's a little more complicated than a mere "congrats on doing well, I knew you could do it."
But Carver's response? Oh Maker's ass. It actually hurts me.
Carver: No, it's all right. It is. It cost a lot, but I get it. I really was a bit of a tit those days, wasn't I?
Aveline: Well...
I... what can I even say?
He accepts it, but you can tell it hurts to do so. It DID cost a lot. More than Aveline will ever understand. And it doesn't matter now! He can't become a guard now anyway, so what would be the point in him disagreeing with her? Carver acts as the bigger person here because he does get it, even if Aveline doesn't.
But it's that last part... that last damn part... Don't be alarmed, that screaming you hear is still me.
Here's the deal; Carver acknowledges that he could be an ass back in Act 1. Hell, he acknowledges it IN Act 1. For example, when you talk to him after finding your grandfather's will, he's an ass to you about Bethany no matter what you say.
But y'know what? You can be the biggest piece of shit to him and have Hawke literally call him a "lazy brat with a chip on his shoulder," and Carver will still be the one to be apologetic for what he said and attempt to explain his feelings.
"Brother/Sister... I feel... I don't know. It's like Mother taking things out on us. She was just scared. I don't have a place in the life she's trying to bring back…"
Carver can be an ass, but he's aware of that and actively tries to change his behavior. If you bring him and Fenris with you on the Mark of the Assassin DLC, there's a moment where Carver says, "You still don't like me? I've tried to change." And if you bring Varric, he once again acknowledges that he used to be an ass.
BUT... that being said. If you don't remember, "I really was a bit of a tit those days, wasn't I?" is referencing back to this conversation in the barracks of Act 1:
Hawke: This must be a very different pace from serving King Cailan.
Aveline: It's just one more change, though. The real end for me was Ostagar. What about you Carver? You were there. Do you feel something similar?
Carver: No.
Aveline: All right, then. Bit of a tit, your brother.
Now, I've already expressed my beef with Aveline over insulting Carver in the middle of the barracks just because he doesn't agree with her view point on Ostagar... but consider the fact that Carver says nothing. He just lets her insult him without a complaint! Carver Hawke, who tends to complain! And he says nothing!
Not only that, but he actually internalized that insult enough that years later he's able to repeat it back to Aveline word for word, and all she has to say is, "Well..."
This isn't the same thing as him reflecting on his past behavior and acknowledging his flaws. This is Carver accepting a snide jab Aveline made that hurt him because apparently he was wrong for not wanting to discuss any trauma Ostagar left him with as openly as she does.
Oh, and don't forget that any other companion you brought along dogpiles on, too!
Carver: No, it's all right. It is. It cost a lot, but I get it. I really was a bit of a tit those days, wasn't I?
Aveline: Well...
Varric: No shit.
Fenris: Insufferable.
Isabela: Legendary.
Anders: Maker, yes.
Sebastian: I've heard as much.
[If Hawke has a humorous/charming personality] Hawke: Spoiled, annoying, thick-headed, brattish little nitwit of a... oh, have we stopped?
Y'all ever wonder why he's so on edge or hostile with the other companions?
Also, I have to point out that Merrill is the only companion who doesn't say anything in agreement if she's there. In fact, across all their banter, Merrill's never been rude or insulting toward him. All she does is ask him if he's talking dirty to her and compliments him on what a great sworder he is. It's pretty obvious why Carver develops a crush on her, c'mon.
But to wrap this up-
This banter strikes a nerve due to how telling it is about both characters involved.
Carver has grown and done what he can to improve himself, but there's regret that lingers, a longing for a better life he could've had if given a chance. Maybe he would've failed, maybe he would've succeeded. But there's nothing he can do now, so he looks forward, just as he's always wanted to do. He's a damn good Grey Warden who wants to do right.
Aveline remains stagnant. She hasn't changed, nor has she improved, and maybe she would if she could figure out how to dislodge her head from her own ass. She still believes she was in the right to tell the guard not to accept Carver's application despite knowing the Hawke's were desperate and that Fereldan refugees couldn't find work. She knew Carver's a skilled soldier who fought at Ostagar just as she did. The guard wasn't the place for him so she's in the right to deny him any chance. Aveline knows best.
And y'know what, I think all I have left to say is...
Fine, Aveline. You're right. It wasn't the place for him.
Carver was too good for your city guard.
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