#oh to be called baby by hawkeye pierce

[shmaptainwrites]

[CH. 3] New Doctor on the Block

Chapter 3: Devil's Advocate

Pairings: Hawkeye Pierce x fem!Reader

Characters: Hawkeye Pierce, B.J. Hunnicutt, Sherman Potter, Radar O'Reilly

Summary: Reader is introduced to a side of Hawkeye she can get used to

Warnings: descriptions of death (a bit more of a personal one in the OR), angst

Note: Not gonna lie this is one of my favourite chapters and I'm not even sorry about it

Series Masterlist - NDotB Masterlist

“Where in the world did you get all these animals, Radar?” you chuckled as you held a guinea pig in your arms. 

“Oh you know, here and there,” he shrugged and fed the guinea pig in your arms a piece of lettuce. 

“Radar is an animal whisperer,” B.J. told you. “The Colonel’s horse was an injured horse from the cavalry and he insisted Hawkeye and I go out and stitch him up instead of having him put out of his misery.” 

“I imagine the sight of Pierce and B.J. trying to lasso a horse was comical,” you snickered at the thought of it and Radar joined in, knowing that B.J. had in fact attempted to lasso the horse so Pierce could sedate it but ended up lassoing Pierce instead.

“Oh, I just love animals,” you kissed the guinea pig’s head. “I had a dog when I was growing up in New Hampshire. A great dane, his name was Tiny,” 

B.J. gave you an incredulous scoff, “Tiny?” 

“My dad thought he was being funny, but in his defence, he was tiny when we got him. I was just a baby so I don’t remember much, but I grew up with that dog by my side. He was my best friend, protected me from everything and anything.” 

“Dogs are loyal companions,” B.J. agreed. 

“I’m more of a cat person,” Radar said. “We have sixteen back home.” 

“Sixteen?!” you looked at the boy in disbelief. 

“Yeah,” Radar chortled. “ I coughed up a hairball when they were giving me my army physical.” 

“Ew,” you grimaced. 

“You’re a trauma surgeon and that grosses you out?” B.J. teased you and you slapped his arm. 

Suddenly, Radar looked very alert before whispering, 

“Choppers,” 

And by this point, you and B.J. knew he was right, even if you couldn’t hear them yet. 

Just as Radar had suspected, helicopters were coming in left right and centre and before you knew it you were back in the OR operating with the other surgeons on your shift. 

You had operated on at least eight soldiers when you were about to prepare yourself to bring another. Your mask had gotten dirty so Klinger was rushing to get you another one, and when the one you had slipped off your head as you were walking out to the prep area you felt someone grab your arm tight. 

When you turned you saw a boy, no older than seventeen/eighteen looking up at you with desperate eyes. 

“Mom?” he called. “Mom please don’t go,” 

B.J. was about to step in to break the bad news to the boy but you stopped him. You saw what he looked like when he got in, there was no chance he’d make it out of the OR alive. 

“It’s alright, I’m here,” you bent down and held one of his bleeding hands. 

“M-Mom I don’t wanna die, please m-mom, please,” he begged. 

“Shh, it’s alright, honey,” you whispered. “Everything’s going to be okay,” 

You were lying, so blatantly, but what were you supposed to do? 

The whole OR was silent, free of banter, all free eyes were on you, and all ears were listening to the conversation you were having with the dying soldier. 

The boy brought his hand up to hold your face and you used your free hand to hold him there. 

“I’m here, I’m not going anywhere,” you assured him. 

“M-m-mom, please,” he begged. 

“I’m right here, sweetheart. You’re so strong you know that. I’m so proud of you,” you paused to look for his dog tags, to say his name and that’s when you choked. “I-I’m so proud of you Grant.”

Grant reached his free hand into his pocket and shakily pulled out something, they must have missed it in pre-op, a photo and a letter. 

“I’m so s-s-sorry mama,” he apologized, tears streaming down his dirtied and bloodied cheeks. “I didn’t mean t-to hurt you.” 

You hadn’t noticed up until that point, but it seemed as though a few tears of your own had escaped and Grant attempted to wipe them from your face. 

“No, no, you don’t be sorry, darling,” you tried to put on your best smile, through the shock, the hurt you felt for this poor boy, for his family…for his mother. “I’ll be alright. I promise.”

“I-I-I love you,” his voice became worn out, quiet gasps with each word and you knew what was coming, but nothing could prepare you for how you’d feel after it.

The lump in your throat grew as you could feel his grip loosening, his hands slipping from yours, leaving a streak of blood on your cheek. You couldn’t move. You felt frozen in place, yet shaking. 

You heard B.J. call your name, but it was faint, distant in the background.

He called you again and you blinked a few times trying to snap out of it. 

“He’s gone, come here,” he pulled you away carefully and took the letter and photo from you so they could bring in the next body that needed to be operated on.

“Captain, go take ten,” the Colonel instructed and you blinked blankly before nodding and stepping out of the doors of the OR and out of the building for some fresh air. 

It started to hit you more out there, the cold night air against your skin sobering you up. 

A couple of moments after you had exited, your hands wrapped around your midsection, still trying to process what had just happened, you heard the door behind you swing open. 

You turned around to see who was there and when you came face-to-face with Pierce you just shook your head. 

“Pierce, just go away. I’m not in the mood,” you mumbled. 

“I think maybe just this time you should listen to me.”

“Pierce, I’m serious,” you turned to him with tears welling in your eyes. “Leave me alone.” 

He chuckled humourlessly and shook his head. 

“You don’t want to be alone right now,” he opened his arms. “Come here.” 

You shook your head and turned away from him. He called your name and you bit the inside of your cheek, knowing damn well he was right, and slowly turned and walked over to him until he wrapped his arms around you and your face was buried in his chest. 

You let out a strangled sob and he squeezed you tighter, making sure you knew he was there with you. 

“Th-That’s my s-s-son’s name,” you managed to get out. “And he c-called me mom and I-I-I-,” 

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, it’s gonna be fine.”

He said those same lies to you, the ones you told that poor boy in there, and you believed them. There was still a war raging outside, but you believed him, everything was going to be okay. It’s not like your husband was six feet under, and your kids were at home without their mother. Everything was going to be fine. 

After your tears became silent, he pulled you slightly away and took a damp cloth from his pocket. He must have grabbed it before coming outside. He carefully took your face in one hand, thumb and forefinger holding your chin up, so he could clean the blood mixed with dirt and tears off your cheeks. 

When he was finished he placed the cloth back in his pocket and used the heel of his palm to wipe away a few of your remaining tears. You weren’t sure what compelled you, but the feeling of his arms wrapped around you made your heart beat slower, your breathing even, and your mind almost clear, and you didn’t want that to go away just yet. 

So you wrapped your arms around his again and he let his chin rest on the top of your head while he soothingly rubbed your back. 

You stood there, just the two of you for a few seconds, or maybe it was a few minutes, in the silence of the night, and when you had no tears left to cry you felt empty. That meant it was time to get back to work. 

You pulled away from him and wiped your tears, apologizing for getting his shirt wet. 

“You ready?” 

You nodded. Another lie. 

“Me neither,” he said softly and you both turned to walk back into the OR. 

—

“And how the hell did this happen to you?” you sighed, slipping on a white coat and putting on gloves before examining the damage done to Pierce’s head. 

“Father Mulcahy organized a baseball tournament for the nurses; some of them are very strong but have no aim whatsoever.”

“If that nurse was a man that’d be a big turn-off,” you mumbled and Pierce cracked a smile at your joke. 

“I can assure you I am both strong and have good aim,” 

“We’ll, it’s too bad everything else about you is a turn-off. Now hold still,” you grabbed his head and looked at the cut. 

“Ow, ow, woman! Careful!” 

“Maybe you should get out of the nurses and Father's way when they’re playing baseball, that way you won’t need…” you counted in your head. “Four stitches.” 

“Glad I’m not in your place Hawkeye,” B.J. patted his back. 

“B.J., can you grab me a local anesthetic?” 

“You sure you don’t wanna make him sit and squirm?” he teased. 

“I’m tempted,” you eyed the dark-haired Captain. 

“Don’t even joke about that B.J.,” Hawkeye warned. 

B.J. got you the local anesthetic and you carefully injected it near the cut and waited a short minute before proceeding with the stitches. 

“Stop squirming, Pierce,” you chastised. 

“Sorry, it just feels so natural to do around you.”

You rolled your eyes, “Who hurt your Pierce, because every time I think you’re a decent guy you go and convince me otherwise.” 

“Her name’s Carley,” B.J. interjected. “Trust me, she messed him up good,”

“At least there’s a reason,” you sighed. 

“What happened to minding your own business,” Pierce looked at B.J. 

“Sorry, that’s my fault I taught him how to gossip,” you joked and Pierce eyed you and then B.J. like you were in on some plan together. “Okay, I’m almost done, got the bandages B.J.?” 

“Right here,” he placed them on the equipment table next to you and as soon as you tied off the last stitch you cut a piece of bandage to tape to his head. 

“Done?” Pierce asked. 

“Almost, B.J.,” you called the other surgeon and you both nodded before kissing the bandage. “There now you’re all set.” 

“Just as long as neither of you gave me some kind of infection.” 

Pierce grabbed his coat and hopped off the gurney, while you cleaned up. 

“Hey, thanks for stitching me up.” 

“No problem, no head-butting until it’s healed,” 

“What if it’s with a trained professional?” he asked. 

“A trained professional?” you raised a brow.

“Like you, considering you’re always butting heads with me,” 

“And what I suppose you want other parts of us to play whoopee too?” 

“Your words, not mine,” he winked and you scoffed, not believing you fell for that. “See you later, my tent, 7 pm?” 

“Nice try, Pierce. Better luck next time.” 

He gave you a lazy salute goodbye and you shook your head as he left the building. That man was one thing if not relentless. 

Tags: @montyfandomlove

#hawkeye pierce #hawkeye pierce x reader #mash #mashblr #mash fanfiction #hawkeye pierce fanfiction

[you-can-be-what-you-want-to-be]

Updated recommendation of mash episodes to watch for people who don’t want to go through the whole thing. I recommend all of them bc I am going for the general tone of the show and characters but will mark the ones that get mentioned later as plot relevant with a *

This goes out to an anon who asked me which episodes to watch over a year ago when I had barely watched any myself. Now I’ve seen it all and can answer honestly.

Also note the show has a lot of goofy A plot serious B plot so try and stick the episodes out in case you aren’t seeing the relevant one.

S1

Yankee Doodle doctor

Tuttle

Sometimes you hear the bullet

Ceasefire

S2

Radars report

Dr pierce and mr Hyde

Kim

Lip

Deal me out

George

Mail call

S3

OR

Springtime

Check up

Alcoholics unanimous

Adams ribs

Bombed

The consultant

Aid station

Love and marriage

Abyssinia Henry*

S4

Welcome to Korea 1/2*

Change of command*

It happened one night

The late captain pierce

Dear Mildred

The kids

Quo Vadis, Captain Chandler?

Dear Peggy

Mail call again

Dear ma

Hawkeye

Deluge

The interview

S5

Bug out 1/2

Margaret’s engagement *

Out of sight out of mind

The nurses * (kind of plot relevant? It’s the turning point for margret becoming more sympathetic so while the episode itself doesn’t get mentioned again it’s imperative to understanding her more so than any other episode focusing on a single character)

The abduction of margret houlinhan

Dear sigmund

Mulcahys war

The Korean surgeon

Hawkeye get your gun

Hawks nightmare

End run

Hanky panky

Post op

Margrets marriage *

S6

Fade out fade in*

Fallen idol

War of nerves

What’s up doc

Dr Winchester and Mr Hyde

S7

Peace on us

Dear comrade

An eye for a tooth

Dear sis

Inga. Listen. Does it have a lot to do with the horrors of war or characterization? No. Does it say fuck womanizing and also canonize Hawkeye as a bottom? Yeah.

Hot lips is back in town

Cave

Rally round the Flagg boys

Preventative Medicine

Ain’t love grand

The party

S8

Too many cooks

Are you now Margret

Guerrilla my dreams

Goodbye Radar*

Period of adjustment

The yalu brick road

Lifetime

Stars and Stripes

Yessir that’s my baby

Bottle fatigue

Heal thyself

Morale victory

Dreams

War Co-Respondent

S9

Best of enemies

Letters

Father’s Day

Death takes a holiday

No sweat

Depressing news

No laughing matter

Oh how we danced

Bottoms up

Bless you Hawkeye

Blood brothers

The life you save

S10

Follies of the living concerns of the dead

Birthday girls

A holy mess

The tooth shall set you free

Pressure points

Where there’s a will there’s a war

Sons and Bowlers

Picture this

S11

Hey look me over

Trick or treatment.

Who knew

Bombshells

Settling debts

Run for the money

As time goes by

Goodbye, farewell, amen*

#mash #mash 4077 #mash for starters

[guardianofthepeanutwrites]

Skirts and dresses Part 4

Part1, Part 2, Part 3 and Part 5

Tag list: @purplefreakwolffish  @mayucerise​

This chapter is for @sarcastich​​ and @starkeraddictbaby​

Thanks to Gypsywoman13 for beta-reading!

CW: genderfluid Loki, Kinda asshole Thor

PeterParkerBingo2021: square Pet Names (card below)

Thor & Loki

Because Peter had been fairly young when he moved inside the compound, they had put his room next to Tony’s quarters since he was the one in charge of their youngest member. Then one day a door appeared in the middle of his room, connecting it to the Stark’s private quarters. They had a long discussion about boundaries: “Ask before putting doors in my bedroom” and “don’t threaten people because they hurt me” etc. Tony had argued it was easier (it was, but that was not the question) because they spend more and more time together. Which was true. 

Tony and Pepper had started to teach Peter some things about business practice. They took him to smaller meetings and introduced him as Tony’s intern; it suited Peter very much. That, plus his patrols, as well as other Avenger business, like training, and his new business classes...Peter was now even busier than he already was.

Except on Sundays. Sundays were days Peter could rest, sleep, visit his aunt May, hang with Ned and MJ, and watch movies with Bucky the other Avengers.

Every Sunday morning, before leaving their quarters, Peter and Tony would eat the most decadent brunch that Peter would let Tony buy him. From all the changes that happened in his life since he got adopted by Tony Stark, Sunday brunches were certainly Peter’s favorites. He loved those calm moments with the man that he admired so much. He also loved that he could put on whatever clothes he wanted because FRIDAY would only let people in the know enter.

That Sunday, they were finishing their meal when Steve entered. He briefly stopped at the soft pink hoodie, gray and pink plaid skirt, and long white socks Peter was wearing before dismissing it and greeting the two men.

“So, Steve, what can we do for you?” Tony asked, forgoing the pleasantries. Peter knew Tony hated being interrupted during Sunday brunches, and saw that Steve started to move from one leg to the other, a bit nervous. Peter frowned.

“Oh, I-I mean, I wanted to apologize for-” Peter tried to interrupt Steve, he had told him many times that Steve was forgiven, but the man was stubborn and didn’t let him talk. “I know, you already told me, but I- I made this for you.” Steve gave Peter a piece of paper. 

On the paper was a beautiful drawing of Peter in the purple dress that he had been wearing when Steve had discovered his secret. Peter was startled out of his stunned silence when his dad gently took the paper from his hands.

Tony simply whistled when he saw the drawing. “Aunt Peggy had told me you could draw, Rogers, but this is something else.” Steve looked at Tony, in shock.

“Au-Aunt Peggy? But you-you weren’t-” 

Tony snorted, irked. “I went to her grave later, Rogers, because there was an emergency, and if there was something Aunt Peggy could understand, it was emergencies. She was Howard’s friend, and my godmother.” Peter, who had been told the story, silently stroked his dad’s back in support as he continued. “We also fought a lot when you came back.” Steve opened his mouth to speak, but Tony didn’t let him. “Not that it’s any of your business, Capsicle, but who do you think covered the truth about Howard’s death? Who do you think had enough power for that? Peggy Carter. She let me think my father killed my mom because he was a fucking alcoholic.”

Steve looked as if he had swallowed a lemon, grimacing. “I didn’t know. I am sorry, Tony.”

Tony lifted his hand. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” He lifted the paper with Steve’s drawing on it, looking at it pensively. “You’re very talented. We should make you an art studio. There is an empty room with great lighting.” Tony turned to Peter to watch him. “What d’you think kid? Wanna design it?” 

Peter felt excited to be offered this opportunity; he nodded with way too much enthusiasm. It made Tony smile, proud.

“You’re gonna make some blueprints, and we will see with the Captain what he needs and likes. No, Cap, don’t argue, it will be good training for the kid. Now, Steve, if you don’t mind, I was having brunch with my kid.”

Peter only had 30 seconds to thank Steve for the drawing and promise him he would make the best art studio there was before Steve left. After Brunch, Peter framed the drawing and put it on his shelf with the piece of his first skirt and the picture of his dad in a dress.

--

Later that day, while Peter and Tony were looking at a movie, before heading out for a diner with Aunt May, someone crashed into their quarters through the window.

Tony was ready to fight in seconds; his watch changed into a piece of armor around his right fist, while his left arm pushed Peter behind him, only to find that it was Thor, son of Odin, that had crashed on the ground. Peter couldn’t help but find it kind of cute that his dad would try to protect Peter with his body when Peter could take the most damage.

“For fuck’s sake, Point Break, what the ever-loving fuck?” Tony let the gauntlet recede back into his watch and put his hand on his heart. “I have a heart condition, you know? And we have doors. FRI, baby, tell everyone in the compound there is no immediate emergency. Put the compound in code orange until further notice,” Tony turned to look at Peter, seeing the pink skirt, the hoodie, and the panicked glances his kid was giving, then added, “Tell them there is no need to come and lock the quarters immediately.” 

Peter relaxed some and started to play with the hem of his skirt. 

“I apologize, Man of Iron. It seems like I missed the door.” Thor stood up from where he had crashed, and he opened his arms to hug Tony. “It has been too long my friend. How are you doing?” Tony frowned, but he let the god hug him. 

After they separated, Tony started to give instructions to FRIDAY for the reparations while Thor turned to look at Peter. There were a few seconds where Thor paused to take in how Peter was dressed before he widened his eyes.

Before Peter could react, Thor bowed deeply before speaking. “Good day, Lady Peter.” 

Peter winced. Why would he be a lady? Just because he was wearing a skirt?

“I-I, no, Thor. I-I am a man.” Peter hated how his voice shivered. 

Thor righted himself, beaming at Peter as if nothing had just happened. “Good, how are you doing Man of Spiders?” 

Peter looked at the god, completely lost by what had just happened. “I-I am fine? Thank you, mister Thor,” Peter said with a small voice. 

The god nodded happily. “I am happy to hear that.” Thor promptly turned to Tony. “Man of Iron, I am in great need of a favor.” 

Tony scowled looking at the damage. “Is it more important than repairing the hole in my wall?” 

Thor’s face became serious in a blink, making Peter shiver. “I am afraid it is really important, my friend,” Thor said in a deep voice. 

--

The meeting had been going on for hours, and Peter was exhausted. 

Thor wanted their help to get some information out of his brother Loki. The Asgardians had a reason to think that Loki hadn’t been the one behind the invasion and could even have been a victim of the scepter like Barton and the others, but Loki wouldn’t talk. Thor hoped that maybe someone on Earth could help them because they had tried everything.

The news was welcomed by an uproar, led by Hawkeye and Fury, and had calmed down after Thor had explained that if his fears were correct, there was something worse coming to Earth. He also promised that they wouldn’t need to bring Loki for them to interrogate him and that there was a magic mirror they could use to talk to him.

It was decided the mirror would be locked in Tony’s lab, the most secure room at the compound.

However, they all forgot Peter had unlimited access to the room.

--

The first time Peter saw Loki, Peter was walking along the glass walls of the main lab. He could see Natasha and Maria Hill looking frustrated at a mirror. In the mirror, there was a gorgeous woman with long, raven black hair; she had piercing green eyes, green lipstick, and she was wearing a stunning, black leather dress. 

If Peter hadn’t been gay, and stupidly in love attracted to Bucky, he knew that he could have fallen for this beautiful lady.

Then his brain started to work again and realization clicked: The woman was Loki. Loki was wearing (and rocking) a dress. He looked like a woman, but how? When she/he/the God of Mischief saw Peter, they winked. Peter startled and simply walked faster to the B-Lab where Bruce was waiting for him.

--

Peter couldn’t get Loki out of his mind. The God didn’t look uncomfortable wearing a dress or looking like a woman in front of his enemies. 

After some days, Peter decided to go to the main source of information about Loki: Thor.

“Oh, yes, Loki sometimes, uhm, switches? Mother always said to respect the gender he looks like, but you know that Loki is my brother, so it was difficult at first.” Thor massaged his neck, uneasy. “But then, Loki started to play vicious pranks on the people who would call him a man when he was dressed like a woman. So, I learned to, uh, call Loki a lady when he wears a dress.”

And then Peter understood. “That's why you called me a lady the other day!” 

Thor nodded. “But luckily you don’t ask me to call you a woman.” 

Peter frowned. “Why do you say luckily? I mean, I don’t think there is anything wrong with asking someone to call you a woman if… you feel like a woman?” Thor, confused, looked at Peter and was about to reply, but Tony (since when had he been in the room?) answered first, making Peter and Thor startle.

“No, there is nothing wrong, Peter. Loki is genderfluid, which means that they don’t identify themself as having a fixed gender.” Tony, who was at the door, walked into the room and up to Peter. “We asked Loki and he said you could use the pronouns depending on what he looks like. It’s easier because Loki is a shifter, and can change depending on his moods. But if you ever meet another genderfluid person, you can just ask them what gender they identify with at that moment.” 

Peter nodded. It made sense. 

Thor looked a bit crushed when he started to speak again. “So, it’s not only Loki?” Tony simply shook his head. “Oh. I think I need to talk to my br-Loki.” With those words, the god left the room.

--

Peter did some research about genders - Tony helped - and he concluded that he was a man that liked to cross-dress and that there was nothing wrong with that. Peter had felt very loved that his dad, who was always so busy, had taken the time to explain all of those terms to Peter until they found the ones that felt right.

But Peter was a curious person, and it was what led him to be bitten by a radioactive spider in the first place... Peter wanted to talk to Loki. He wanted to talk about the dress, and about being genderfluid. He knew that the god was not a good being, but Loki was already in prison. What could go wrong?

--

“The mighty Avengers are sending me a child, now? Interesting.” Loki’s bitter words made Peter flinch. Peter silently closed the door behind him, before he entered the lab.

“No. I- I mean, I am an Avenger, but they didn’t send me.” Peter nervously played with the plaid shirt he was wearing that day.

“Then why are you here?” 

Peter lifted his head and looked directly at Loki for the first time. He noted that Loki was in a male form. 

“I learned that you are genderfluid. I- I just wanted to talk.” 

Loki’s face softened a little bit. “Oh, yes. People of Midgard have been strangely open-minded about it.” His face then hardened again. “What do you want? Do you want to see the shift? Do you want me to become a female?” 

Peter winced. 

“What? No! Only if it’s what you want. But, no, who would want you to do that? You’re not some kind of animal.” Peter was horrified, just thinking about it. Loki huffed but said nothing, watching Peter with piercing eyes. Peter took a deep breath and gathered his courage. “I-I like to wear dresses. It is called cross-dressing here.” 

Loki looked at Peter like he was analyzing Peter’s very soul. “Why are you telling me this, human?” he seemed perplexed.

“I saw you in that dress the last time, and you were gorgeous. I mean, that dress, it looked like it had been made just for you.” Peter couldn’t contain the excitement in his voice. Loki raised an eyebrow, but Peter could see that he was fighting a smile.

“That would be because it was crafted for me. I am a prince of Asgard, little one.” The reply was unexpected, and Peter felt his eyes open with shock that was rapidly replaced by glee.

“Oh yes, my da- Mr. Stark let a tailor come to the tower, and he wanted to tailor some things, but I wasn't ready yet. Mr. Stark said that the man could come back later. ” 

Loki didn’t fight his smile this time.

“And why weren’t you ready, yet, dear?”

--

Peter and Loki talked a big part of the night until Peter started to yawn too much, then Loki sent him to his room. As days went on, after his patrol and doing some homework, Peter visited every night to talk about stuff with Loki.

--

“By the Norns! Dear Spider, why would you not simply tell the man that you want him?” Loki asked, sitting against the wall of his prison.

“What? No! He doesn’t feel that way about me,” Peter answered stubbornly while painting his nails with a green nail polish that had been approved by Loki.

“You won’t know until you try, dear.” Peter shrugged and changed the subject.

--

Of course, after a visit one night, they were discovered. While Tony and Natasha (and Bucky) hadn’t been really happy about it, there was nothing they could do or say to change Peter’s mind.

--

“You what?” Peter asked, dumbfounded.

“I stabbed the mongrel,” Loki answered, way too smugly if you asked Peter.

“Because he slapped your ass? Isn’t that a bit extreme?”

“Oh my sweet, sweet, little Spider. If you let men get away with unwanted touching, they will think it is alright to do it again and again. No one should dare touch a lady like that without consequences.” Loki played with the knife that had been in his hand since they started to talk that day.

“Yes, but still, Thor is your brother.” Peter never had had a sibling, but if he had, he wouldn’t have stabbed them, for sure.

“After that, neither Thor, nor any of the savages he called ‘friends’, ever touched me without my consent.” The smile Loki sent his way made Peter shiver.

“Yeah, ok, fair.” The god did heal fast, so Peter guessed that it was okay-ish.

--

Peter had been surprised when a raven had given Peter two identical letters one morning after breakfast. He was even more surprised when the letters ended up being Loki’s complete confession. One had been addressed to ‘The Mighty Avengers’ and the other to ‘Sweet Spider’. 

Loki explained how he had fallen into Thanos’ lap after the destruction of the rainbow bridge; he mentioned the torture, the scepter, and how the beating that the Hulk gave him had helped him evade his conditioning. He also laid out Thanos' strengths and weaknesses, including how and when to beat him.

At the end, Loki wrote that he would never have written his confession if it weren’t for Peter. 

Peter then took the last page, where Loki had drawn them both and had it framed to be placed on his beloved shelf.

#peterparkerbingo2021 #thor odinson #loki laufeyson #peter parker #winterspider #5+1 things #still 6+1 tho #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #skirts and dresses

[avengerscompound]

It’s You and Me - Chapter 10

It’s You and Me: A Hawkeye Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x  F!Reader

Word Count:  1758

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Mentions of past abuse, some kinda sexual stuff (though it’s light and probably pg movie worthy), some of this is canon comic stuff - so you may have already read it.

Synopsis: You and Clint Barton go way back.  Since you joined the circus as a child, he took it upon himself to keep you away from the people who really wanted to hurt you.  For years the two of you danced a line between dark and light.

When he chooses light the two of you go your separate ways.

Fifteen years later he tracks you down.  Those feelings the two of you shared never went away, but now he is not only an Avengers but a single father.  Can the two of you make it work after all this time when your lives have gone in such different directions?

A series told in flashbacks and current day.

Chapter 10: Then

Clint ran through the circus looking for Eden.  He’d been in town getting some things when he’d spotted the paper.  The words ‘Art Dealer Murdered’ were splashed over the front page, with a photograph of the man Clint recognized from when he’d had the meeting with Tiboldt and a picture of some of the missing art.  He knew it had to do with the circus.  That someone from here had killed him when they’d tried to steal the art.  After what you had said about Eden potentially being involved, he was terrified that someone was her.

“Anyone seen Eden?”  He called as he ran through the carnies setting up the tents for the show tonight.

He spotted Bruto the Strong Man hammering in some of the larger poles and rushed over to him.  “Bruto,” he said, slightly breathless.  “You seen Eden around?”

Bruto thrust his thumb over his shoulder.  “Check Tiboldt’s trailer.”

Clint nodded and ran towards the orange trailer that had the large banner advertising the circus on the side.  “Eden,” he called.  “Tiboldt - you guys in there?”

The door opened a crack and the thin weasley face peered around the corner.  “What do you want, Barton?”

“Where’s Eden?”  Clint asked.

Tiboldt narrowed his eyes.  “What… do … you… want?”

Clint thrust the paper forward, right into the Ringmaster’s face so he could see the headline.  “This is the guy you were talking to a few days ago!”

“Really?”  Tiboldt said, playing coy.  “I talk to so many people when we do our shows…”

“He was the museum guy - we were gonna do some children’s charity gig for him?”  Clint questioned.

Tiboldt chuckled drily and handed the paper back to Clint.  “Apparently, we won’t be now.”

Clint scowled, taking it.  “Where’s Eden?”

Tiboldt pushed the door open so that Clint could see inside.  Eden was sitting at the dressing table, naked except for a small towel wrapped around her waist.  She turned, obviously startled that the Ringmaster would give her away.  “Clint!”  She yelped.  “I…”

Clint fumed.  He wanted to yell.  To fight Tiboldt.  To do something to express how angry and hurt he was right now.  Tiboldt was the boss though and he was stuck.  He’d been sleeping with Eden and they’d gone and murdered someone together and Clint was just some dumb sucker.

He spun on his heel and stormed off.

He’d made it halfway down the big top before Eden came chasing after him, the towel only barely wrapped around her.  “Clint!  Wait!” She called.  “It’s not what you think!”

“Yeah?”  He snapped, tossing the paper into the air.  “‘Cause I’m thinkin’ you’re with him when you said you were my girl -” he loosed an arrow at it and shot past Eden’s head, pinning the paper to the wall of the trailer she was standing next to, the arrowhead piercing the picture of the murder victim through the head.  “- and you helped him commit murder!”

“You…” Eden stammered.  “You really think I would murder someone?”

Clint faltered.  He didn’t know what he believed.  He loved Eden and had loved her for a while now.  But seeing her naked in that trailer only days after you had warned him about what was going on, he wasn’t sure if he could trust her.  “I - no… no, I don’t…”

She approached him running her hand up into the back of his head and leaning into him.  “As for Tiboldt and me - please - I was posing for a new trailer poster.”  She looked into his eyes and tilted her head.  “No one touches me - you know that.  No one but you.”

She opened her towel, and wrapped it around him, bringing her naked body to his right out in the open in front of everyone.  Heat flushed Clint’s skin and every coherent thought left his head.  He kissed Eden deeply and hungrily the only thing even remotely resembling a coherent thought was the deep animalistic hunger he felt for her.

That night as you and Clint got ready for the show, he’d all but forgotten the incident from earlier and the murder of the art dealer.  You were fussing with the horses as he checked his equipment.

“Five minutes ‘til showtime!”  Tiboldt called.  Clint flexed his bowstring and the bow snapped.  “Ah, nuts!”  He cursed and looked around, while Tidbolt called out the run list.  “Anyone got a soldering iron?”

You shook your head while the other performers ignored him.  “Hurry, Clint,” you said.  “We’re first.”

“I’ll be quick,” he agreed and ran out the back of the tent.  Eden was coming in from outside.  She was wearing a bikini that would match her flesh if it wasn’t covered from neck to toe in intricate tattoos.  “Eden, baby, I need a soldering iron,” he said.

“Oh, I got one, Clint,” she teased.

“You do?” He said, completely missing the teasing in his desperation to fix the bow before curtains up.

“You wanna know where I’m keeping it?”  She smirked

Realization dawned on him.  Of course, the woman who was basically naked didn’t have a soldering iron on her.  “Oh,” he said.

“Try one of the storage chests, you big dope - the purple one, I think,” she said.

He rushed down to where the storage chests were but instead of one, there were three purple chests, each identical to the other.  “Aw, man…” he whined.  “Eden… three of them are purple!”

“Two minutes!”  Tiboldt called.

“C’mon…” Clint muttered, opening one of the trunks.  Sitting on top of the chest was the painting from the paper.  It had been Tiboldt, just like he’d thought.  Which meant it was probably Eden too.

His heart sunk.  He didn’t know what to do.  It was one thing when it was just stealing - but murder?  How could he stay with the Circus knowing they were doing that?

“Ladies and Gentleman -”  Tiboldt called, his voice amplified over the big top.  Clint cursed again and began digging for the soldering iron in the other trunks.

He’d well and truly missed his queue when he reached you.  Eden was out on the floor working her contortionist routine.  “Where have you been?”  You asked.  “You missed your queue.”

“I’m sorry!”  He said and came over close to you.  “I was fixing my bow and I found a painting… one of the missing ones.  They killed that art guy.”

You frowned.  “Shit.”

“Did you have anything to do with it?”  He asked.

You held up your hands.  “I swear I didn’t, Clint.  I thought about it, but I knew if they had that over me, then they’d have control of me.”

“You think Eden did?”  Clint muttered.

You looked around and pulled Clint behind the horses more.  He tried to see what had got you spooked and noticed Tiboldt watching you both.  “I don’t know.  Maybe,” you whispered.  “You should ask her that.”

Clint’s shoulders sagged.  “I might get us a motel room.  Maybe if she’s away from the circus she’ll tell me.”

You shrugged.  “Maybe.”

“Hawkeye, Sugar.  You already missed on queue, you better get this one,” Tiboldt snapped, appearing around the front of the horses.

“Yes, sir!” You said, getting on your horse.

Clint did the same and waited for his queue.  You leaned over to him.  “Clint, what are you gonna do if she did do it?”

Clint shrugged.  “I dunno.  I dunno if I can stay here.  Would you come with me?”

“Where would we go?”  You asked.   “We ran away to the circus, what’s after that?”

“Welcome to the ring, the man who can’t miss, Hawkeye!”  Tiboldt announced, interrupting Clint’s train of thought.  He spurred his horse on through the curtains.  Not that he was sure what he was going to do, but if he turned everyone in, there was no way that the answer could be this anymore.

You sat next to Clint by the payphone in the street.  He’d done what he’d said.  He’d taken Eden to a motel.  They’d gotten dirty and then clean again, and while they showered he’d asked her about the murder.  She denied the murder but not the theft and then got mad at him for not trusting her.  Clint had gone to bed feeling sick to his stomach and the next morning he woke well before Eden, come back to the circus, and got you.

“You really gonna do this, Clint?”  You asked.

He shrugged.  “I dunno.  They killed someone.  That guy has a family.  Friends.  They deserve some kind of closure.”

You nodded.  “The circus will be done.  What will we do?”

“Go on the road together,” Clint suggested.  “The act won’t be quite as good without the horses and the clowns, but we could do a pretty good routine.  Maybe some solo work too.”

“Maybe if you do it anonymously they won’t know it was you,” you suggested.

“Eden will know,” he said.  “So will Tiboldt. This is gonna burn us.  I already got my leg busted because I threatened to turn them in once.”

“I guess… make the call, and we go back and … pack our things?”  You said.  “If we can get as much of our stuff as we can, we won’t need to start from scratch.”

“You’re really going to come with me?”  Clint asked.

“Clint,” you said softly, lowering your eyes.  “I know you don’t know exactly what happened to me before I joined the circus, but when I joined, and Jacques said I needed to take those pictures - he said that he wouldn’t touch me.  That it’d just be some naked pictures and that’d pay for my upkeep.  I didn’t like it, but … it was like levels, you know?  When someone keeps breaking your bones, and then a different person says, come here I’ll bruise you, but I won’t break your bones, you go because compared to the broken bones, the bruising feels like heaven.  And you… you said you’d protect me from anyone hurting me at all.  And you did.  You kept Jacques away from me and you gave me a way to protect myself.  And you’ve never expected anything from me.  I kept expecting that one day you’d be like ‘well look what I did, now you owe me so open up those pretty legs of yours’ but you didn’t.  So yeah, Clint.  I’ll go with you because it’s you and me.  You’ve always got my back, it’s only fair I have yours too.”

Clint looked at you and smiled sadly.  “You and me,” he said and patted your thigh.  “Okay.  I’m gonna do this.”

// NEXT

#clint barton #clint barton x reader #hawkeye #hawkeye fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #it's you and me

[sorry-i-spaced]

Issues

Hawkeye is seen in the show as being a ladies man and quite the player. We know his mom died when he was just 10 and we know Caryle and Trapper both left without saying bye to Hawkeye. So I decided to play with the idea that he has abandonment and commitment issues because of this. I borrowed some of the dialogue from the episode “The More I see of You” in the beginning. 

“If you’d gone into medicine with the same lack of conviction as marriage”

“Your work is always going to be the single most important thing in your life”

“Maybe you would have needed me a little more”

“Doug was able to commit”

“Commit”

Lack of conviction”

“Work….important...lack of conviction”

“Commit”

“Hawk? Hawkeye? Earth to Hawkeye! Anybody up there?” waved a concerned BJ. 

“Huh? Oh,yeah, what?” shook Hawkeye as he came back to reality.

“Did you say something?” asked Hawkeye realizing he had zoned out big time. 

“Yea, I was asking if you wanted to get dinner. I heard Igor was sick of all the grief we gave him so he made an upside down dinner in retaliation.” 

Hawkeye sat there contemplating whether food was more important than wallowing in self pity for the way he let things get between Carlye and him.   

“Nah, I think I’m just going to nap. We are supposed to get a heavy influx of wounded by dawn and I want to catch up on sleep.” And with that BJ got up to leave and Hawkeye laid down in his army issued  mess of a cot and shut his eyes.

“Incoming wounded! All Medical and Surgical staff report for triage! Looks like it will a doozy” barked the PA system.

Opening his eyes Hawkeye threw his  pillow in the direction of  Beej. 

“Get up” he yelled. 

The red haired man rose (wait that’s not right Beej has blonde hair)

“Did you dye your hair and forget to tell me?” asked the raven haired man confused. 

“Not that I’m aware of” called back the other man as he was putting on his shoes. 

The two quickly ran out the door. 

In triage Hawk got right to work. 

“This one has a chest wound. Get some blood in him and get him prepped”

“This one can wait”

Hawkeye barked orders to the nurses. He got up and made a run for the O.R.

“Hawkeye! How goes it?” asked Klinger, who was running in the same direction as him.

Boom!

“Ahh!” yelped Klinger as he threw his head forcefully into the dirt. 

Hawkeye stopped dead in his tracks and looked at the man. Cocking his head to the side he says, “ Klinger, a landmine went off. You’re fine. Get your head out of the dirt this instant. Anybody looking on would think you're bucking for a section 8 again. By reason of ostrich.

“I’m not acting sir” deadpanned Klinger as he lifted his head, shaking the dirt out of his hair.

Hawkeye blinked and shook his head. Klinger was right, he was an ostrich through and through. 

“When did this happen?” he asked.

“I’ve always been one sir. You just couldn’t tell since I spend so much of my time in dresses confident I can get out of the Army. But to be honest I’m scared as shit. Scared of dying and scared I won’t ever return to Toledo the same as I left.” 

The two were now in the scrub room. Hawkeye was washing up. 

“So Beej dyes his hair and forgets to tell me and you're an ostrich?What else will happen today.” 

“Beej didn’t dye his hair. He is a robin.”

“A robin? As in the bird?” questioned Hawkeye as he patted his hands dry.

“He is a songbird. Yes. If you don’t believe me just look at him yourself.” 

The two had somehow ended up in the O.R and Hawkeye was at a table picking apart peacock feathers. Hawkeye looked up and to his surprise Beej was in fact a big fat plump red robin - complete with wings and a beak.

Looking at Klinger Hawkeye was left to wonder, “why?” 

“He left his baby girl very early on in her life.” 

Again Hawkeye had moved from the O.R back into the scrub room. These abrupt scene changes were getting awfully annoying. 

“We all left family to be dragged to this God Forsaken Hell Hole. Why should he be so special.”

“Well for much of the same reason that I’m scared he feels guilty about leaving during such a crucial part of his little girl's life.”

“My mom left me early on in life, I turned out fine.” Hawkeye spat back. 

Hawkeye who realized he was sitting on the bench leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes. Pursing his lips together he began to ask more questions trying not to dwell on the fact his mom left him.

“So Beej is guilty and you're scared. Is there anyone else I should know about?”

Silence. Klinger was trying to figure out what to say. This was all coming out too fast. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. His job was to help propel the story along and these observations were supposed to happen naturally. Well as naturally as having birds operate on patients who just see the shell of the person not the bird. But no this man was too smart for even his unconsciousness. Finally he began to speak, slowly hoping he wouldn’t reveal too much.

“Our fearless leader Potter is a bald eagle because he is insecure in his talents. He is a career man - as I’m sure you’re aware of. But he lacks the knowledge of all these fancy techniques you young doctors seem to pick up so easily. Margaret is a puffin because all she wants to do is be accepted by everyone. Frank is a hummingbird because he is annoying as all shit and is very insecure due to it. Oh and you’re a peacock.” 

That got Pierce to shoot up like a bean pole.

“Wait! Aren’t you going to tell me why I’m a peacock?” his voice raised and wavered a bit. 

“Sorry sir, you’ll have to figure that one out on your own.

“What why? Klinger, you gotta tell me! Come on we know everyone else’s insecurities, why can’t I know my own?”

Klinger didn’t know how to respond. He knew he had 3 sets of 10 minutes and 1 set of an hour of time to try and get Hawkeye to learn why he is a peacock. But he also knew it was up to his subconscious to interact with his unconscious to help move the narrative. 

“Ow!” yelped Hawkeye breaking the silence. 

“What the hell was that?” 

Not even Klinger had an explanation.

All of sudden a flying pillow came out of nowhere. 

Klinger now understood what was happening. Someone was trying to wake Hawkeye. There little mental party would be ending soon. 

“Hawk” echoed a ghostly sound. 

“Why are you calling me a Hawk, I thought you said I was a peac-” 

His eyes shot open! Looking down at him were a pair of blue eyes. Beej

“What? What happened?” Hawkeye asked as he began to get up.

“Wounded” called Beej as he put on his converse. 

“Suction! So yea, don’t know what any of that means but thought I’d share my dream with the rest of the class,” said Pierce as he tried to stop a bleeder his patient had come in with. 

“That’s scary accurate. Especially my fear. How did you pin us all down like that?” called BJ concentrating on his own bleeder. 

“Pierce, are you good with birds? Seems like you pinned us to an appropriate matching bird” called Potter. 

Hawkeye was now working on closing up the patient, “I’ve gone bird watching with my dad back in Maine. One time when I was a kid, right when mom died, he decided to get his mind off her death he was going to do a Big Year. I would come along on bird watching expeditions during school breaks and weekends. But I still would like to know why I’m a peacock. Of all the birds to be.” called Hawkeye. 

“If it bugs you that much, why don’t you ask Sidney the next time he comes up for Poker.” said BJ when they were back in the Swamp. 

They were finally out of surgery and the two swamp rats were playing tennis with a blown up surgical glove they took from the scrub room. 

A week later, before Poker was supposed to take place, Sidney was set up in the VIP tent chatting with Hawkeye. 

“So you dreamt about everyone’s fears personifying and taking the form of birds? What do you think it means?” lead the Psychiatrist. 

“I don’t know Sidney, you tell me, you’re the expert on these types of things.” pleaded Hawkeye, who had taken up pacing around the tent. 

“Hawk, I want you to get to that conclusion yourself. It won’t be helpful if I do it for you.”

Hawkeye stopped pacing and sat down on the edge of the bed. “What do you want to hear. I want to be as helpful as possible. In my dream Klinger said basically the same thing.”

“Humor me and tell me about your childhood, that’s always a good place to start when talking about fears and issues,” claimed Sidney.

“My childhood. What do you wanna know” asked Hawkeye. 

“How was your relationship with your mom?” 

“Nonexistent. I’ve told you before she died when I was 10. Just been dad and I since then.” replied Hawkeye flatley.

“Do you have any resentment towards her dying?” pried Sidney.

“You know dad didn’t even tell me she was sick? He waited until she passed to come clean and tell me. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. I was angry for years. At her for getting sick and at dad for not having the decency to tell me she was sick. But I got over it. No hard feelings”

Rambled Hawk. 

“Ok, so issues from mom, how about dad?”

“Dad? Oh he was great! After mom died we became thick as thieves. He was the one who inspired me to go into medicine. He wasn’t too happy about it to be honest.” gleaned Hawk.

“I remember you telling me last time I was here that there was a nurse here that you had an old fling with. How did that end?”

“Caryle. I really don’t know what happened. We were living together during residency you know.”

Raising an eyebrow Sidney interjected, “ So you guys were serious?” 

“That’s what I thought.” continued Hawkeye. “But just like mom and just like Trapper did 6 months ago, she up and left. I didn’t get to say bye or anything. She just one day decided she had enough of me, packed her bags and was out of the apartment before I even had time to get home and try and stop her. I thought Trapper would have at least left something. But I guess not. I guess I’m just not worth the hassle to say bye too. God. Why did dad not let me tell mom bye. Her own son was in the dark. I get Caryle and Trapper. It was bound to happen. Unhappy relationship and discharge but God, mom? Really? I hated her for it you know. I just wish once someone would leave and tell me about it first. Why do I always have to be the last to know. I bet the thing I got going on with Beej will end just as abruptly as it did with Trapper.” rambled on Hawkeye.

“Hawkeye, stop a minute, let’s process all that you said.” steered Sidney realizing he was losing his patient rapidly. 

Hawkeye shut up and listened. 

“You mention over and over that you never got to say goodbye to all these people. You also mention being the last to hear of relationships ending.”

“Yea, so?” sighed Hawkeye.

“Let’s go back to the dream. In the dream you describe each of your friends as birds relating to their fears and issues. Beej - your best friend is a robin because he is guilty for leaving his baby girl. Klinger is an ostrich - which I never would have pegged him as so thank you for that lovely image - because he is scared and fearful he won’t return home and if he does he will be completely different. Potter is a bald eagle because he is insecure in his abilities despite being a career man in the army. Margaret is a Puffin because she has the fear that she will never fit in anywhere so she forces herself to. And Frank is a hummingbird because he is insecure in his own way and -”

“ - a peacock for commitment issues” finished Hawkeye. 

“Precisely. It seems like you are scared to trust people because everyone seems to leave you at some point. Starting way back when your mom left you abruptly. Oh also in my own professional diagnosis I would also tack on abandonment issues” added Sidney.

“What gives Sid, I thought you were going to let me come to the conclusion on my own accord.” whimpered Hawkeye.

“Eh, I see how hard you’re trying to figure this all out, so I decided to give you a freebie” laughed Sidney.

“Well in true Freud fashion, my issues really do stem from my mother,” laughed Hawkeye sadly. 

The two sat for another hour trying to brainstorm ways Hawkeye could push past these thoughts of abandonment and commitment issues and how he could overcome them. 

The End!

#mash #fanfic #birds #freud #hawkeye pierce #klinger #sidney freedman #fears #issues

[introvertguide]

M*A*S*H (1970); AFI #54

The next film on the AFI List is what is often called a dark comedy, M*A*S*H (1970). This was a highly rated movie by critics although it was overshadowed by Patton that came out the same year. The film earned nominations for Best Picture, Best Director, Best Supporting Actress, and Best Editing while winning for Best Screenplay. This is the first major feature length film for director Robert Altman after years spent directing for television. This experience is very apparent because the film experience is like binge watching webisodes online. Many short stories that come together around a group of characters in a specific setting. I want to go over the story before any further critique and I will break it down like episodes of a TV show. Oh yeah...

SPOILER ALERT!!! THERE IS A LOT TO THIS FILM SO REVIELING THE PLOT WON’T REALLY SPOIL THE EXPERIENCE, BUT I WANT TO BE SURE TO WARN ANYBODY BEFORE I START SPOILING DETAILS!!!

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The film starts with the well known helicopters flying in with wounded soldiers with the theme of “Suicide is Painless.” These same shots were either used or simulated for the beginning of the television show. The tone is set to be a rather somber war film that deals with injuries and death in battle...until one of the groups moving the stretchers falls over and the tone becomes uncertain. 

We then meet two new surgeons that are assigned to the 4077 unit. They are Captain Hawkeye Pierce (Donald Sutherland) and Captain Duke Forrest (Tom Skerritt). They are insubordinate smart aleks who take a jeep without a driver and go off to the medical outpost where they are assigned. They immediately run into Major Burns (Robert Duvall) with whom they share an officer’s tent. Duke and Hawkeye have a rule breaking style that does not mesh with the extremely strict and religious Major. The two immediately ask for the Major to be moved. They get a new tent mate in Captain Trapper McIntyre and we have our three doctors. Also in the camp are Colonel Blake (Roger Bowen), Major “Hot Lips” Houlihan (Sally Kellerman), the dentist “Painless” (John Schuck), and Lieutenant “Dish” (Joann Pflug).

The first situation is dealing with Burns. He is indoctrinating a local teen by having him read the bible. Not really too bad. The man is annoying and I couldn’t remember why he got such a bad rap. However, he blames an assistant (who is not a nurse and played by Bud Cort) for the death of a soldier when the man was going to die anyway, and Trapper takes exception and punches Burns in the face. Burns then starts to court the new Major and the three docs broadcast them being intimate over the loudspeaker. She tells Burns to kiss her hot lips and gains her nickname. Hawkeye rags on Burns about the incident until the Major attacks the Captain and Burns is taken away for psychiatric discharge. The three doctors respect Houlihan’s nursing skills, but they still really hate her neurotic adherence to the rules.

The next situation involves the dentist, Painless, who was unable to perform sexually with a visiting nurse so he believes he is gay and wants to kill himself. The doctors form a scheme to give the dentist a pill that will knock him out and also give him an erection (like a Cialis sleeping pill). Painless believes the pill will kill him and everyone says their goodbyes. All the surgeons have dinner together in a scene reminiscent of the last supper and then Painless is given his pill and lays down in a coffin while a reprise of “Suicide is Painless” plays in the background. Once Painless is out, a good looking nurse who is about to leave for home, Lieutenant Dish, is convinced to have sex with the dentist to convince him he is not gay. It works and the Lieutenant leaves in the morning and the dentist changes his mind about dying.

There is a brief interlude where the docs wonder if Hot Lips is a natural blond. To find out, they set up a scheme in which they drop open the side of a shower tent while the Major is there so they can see her pubic hair and compare. It is a rather mean prank that the whole camp is in on, and Houlihan goes to Colonel Blake and complains that he lets the surgeons get away with everything. He tells her to get out because he is sleeping with a nurse and drinking alcohol that was brought in by the three doctors.

The third situation involves Trapper and Hawkeye going off to Japan to perform emergency surgery on the son of somebody with influence. While there, they also use the facility to help a baby of one of the local prostitutes. They are caught with the possibility of legal repercussions, but blackmail the local officer with pictures of him with the prostitute. They get their way and are able to go back to the 4077. When they get back, it turns out that Duke has been sleeping with Hot Lips because he likes blondes.

The final situation is a little out of the blue but perhaps the most well known aspect of the film. The 4077 is challenged to a football game by local evacuation unit 325. The two camps both get ringers to play as there is a $5000 wager on the game. The 4077 holds back their ringer for the first half and sabotage the best players of the 325th so they can increase the wager and the odds at halftime. It works and the 4077 bring in their ringer and are able to win on the last play.

The end is very much like the beginning in that Hawkeye and Duke are given their papers to go home and they steal the same Jeep to leave together. There are no closing credits but the actors are all mentioned on an overhead announcement that breaks the 4th wall of the film. Very creative and a pretty satisfying ending.

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Like I said at the beginning, this doesn’t really feel like a film but more of a series of episodes. It is no wonder that it translated so well to television and became one of the most popular shows of all time. There was only one actor that went from the movie to the TV show and that was Colonel Blake’s secretary known as Radar, who was played by Gary Burghoff. This is one of the few films on the AFI list that you can watch in parts or step away from and not really miss anything. It was a lot different from anything that had been done before, but it does seem a little incohesive.

My mom is not a fan of this film specifically because of the way that these three doctors treat everyone else. Major Burns does not really deserve his fate and the nurses are constantly used for their sex appeal. The three are incredibly mesogenistic, Duke is kind of racist when there is a discussion of a black man staying in their tent, and Painless would rather die than possibly live his life as a gay man. All of these characters are in a horrible situation, but the audience is supposed to automatically favor the flippant care-free doctors. Burns and Houlihan are not really played out as terrible people but we are supposed to laugh as these surgeons torture them. The joke really doesn’t hold up.

I really think that this movie is a great time capsule for the time period. Men were being drafted to go off to war and it was believed that they were being stripped of their humanity and turned into killers. Vietnam was a war that many Americans didn’t want to be a part of so the idea that the war experience could be good with the right attitude appealed to many. The graphic nature of the surgery scenes made the situation feel real so the movie going audience cheered for those men who could do their job while keeping their sanity and their frat boy sense of humor intact. Again, that is not the humor of the nation currently so the gags don’t really hold up. It does give the viewer a glance into the mindset of the audience at the time.

After Nashville, I don’t have that much to say about the cinematography. Altman definitely has wide shots in which a lot is happening, but it is set at a small army camp in which it is hard to tell the actors in uniform apart. A lot of the action is lost. Also, there are far fewer characters in this film than in Nashville. Altman’s TV roots are much more evident in this film. That being said, the constant change really helps to move the movie along and I would say it is up with Raiders of the Lost Ark as far as quick pace.

So does this film deserve to be on the AFI list? I’m actually going to say no. The TV show that was inspired by this film made for some of the best episodic story telling on the small screen, but you can’t really give that to this film. The comedy really doesn’t hold up and the lack of any cohesive story lasting more than 15 minutes is very detrimental. Would I recommend it? Yes I would. It is fun and a pretty easy watch. I am really just not that sure how it got on the AFI list. It wasn’t highly awarded and many people don’t know there even was a movie before the TV show. It is an interesting bit of history, but it is no big deal if you skip this one. Watch the TV show instead.

#MASH #Robert Altman #1970 #war films #introvert #introverts

[cauldronofmorning]

Alright ficcy anon here, Margaret abortion fic shall be writ.

"Oh, will you cut it out?"

"Alright, wait a minute, wait a minute... There!"

"What?"

Hawkeye took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Margaret. You're going to have a baby." Pierce turned to catch the striken major's eyes. She composed herself, putting on the mask that she always uses when she doesn't want to show how hurt she is.

It was the shakiness in her voice that betrayed her. "I... yes, well... Thank you, doctor."

Later that night, in her tent, Margaret considered her options.

On the one hand, she could leave the service, likely leave her husband, and, as a mom, be unable to work as a nurse. Her child would grow up without a father, and it would be rough to raise her as a single mother.

On the other hand, she could abort. She would stay in the army, leave her husband, and no child would have to suffer the consequences of a broken piece of rubber.

It went against the law and everything that she believed in. But she didn't see any other choice.

Pierce, of course, was about as understanding as could be expected when she pulled him to the side the next day to ask him about it.

"What the hell, Margaret? I'd be killing your baby! It goes against everything we believe in, not to mention is illegal! I could lose my medical license for this. I could go to Leavenworth. You could ask anything from me. Your appendix out, your tonsils out. Heck, I could even take a kidney out. Just don't ask me for that."

Margaret had perfected her angry look, and she pulled it out to good use. "Now see here, Pierce! If I have this child, I can't work as a nurse! I lose everything I'd been working for, and how could I support the child without a decent job? Not to mention I'm not exactly the best parenting material, and Donald's going to be out of the picture. It's going to suffer because of your damn morals! If you don't do this, danger or not, I'm looking for a local who will."

It was Hawkeye's turn to feel stricken. "Alright, alright, look. Give me two days to think about it."

"Alright then, two days."

In that two days, Hawkeye did some thinking. Margaret did have some good arguments. The child would suffer. But don't the Korean orphans suffer too? And yet they still smile and laugh. But is that really an excuse?

Some questions couldn't be answered by one person. Sometimes you need someone to give you advice. And who's one of the best surgeons he knows? Outside of his fellow MASHers, who he couldn't tell because then they'd guess who, the only one he could think of was his dad. Hawkeye rushed to Radar's office.

"Hey, Radar, I need a call home. It's urgent."

"Urgent, how urgent?"

"Right away. I need some advice on a medical matter that can't be asked of anyone here."

And so Hawkeye called his dad. His dad's response was not what he expected. "Wait, what?" Hawkeye asked. "You serious? You? How many? Ten since I've been here?"

The fact that his dad had done so many abortions staggered him, but it also changed his mind, and so he went to Margaret immediately.

"Well?" She asked.

"I'm sorry, I was wrong. I'll do it. Tonight, when no one else is there. You can ask one of your nurses to join you if you want."

Margaret has a particular face for when she expects bad news and gets good, the anger and frustration, she was expecting to use having no where to go. She pulled it out now. "Thank you, doctor."

aww this was so lovely <3 Margaret/Hawkeye friendship hours

#Anonymous

[incorrectbandofbrothersquotes]

You’re Still You - Chapter 1

Trapper John McIntyre x Hana Chigusa

Summary:  A nurse with a complicated past is plucked from her peaceful life by the draft and dropped into the 4077th. After everything life has put her through already, how will she adjust to this new, shocking setting? Especially with the kinds of characters in this M*A*S*H unit?

Tag List: None so far, let me know if you’d like to be added!

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: So, I’ve decided to post my M*A*S*H fic on here. It’s with my OC, Hana Chigusa, and I hope you’ll enjoy reading her as much as I’m enjoying writing her! Dear Heart (Remastered) is still in the works, though, no worries there! 

Warning(s): None :)

Read on AO3

Chapter 1 here we go!!!

Kimpo Airport was dry. The thin air in this part of Korea brought back memories that Hana would rather forget. Which explained her being at the bar now, a mouthful of warm vodka burning her throat, because even the chatter of the other personnel around her and the rumble of vehicles outside couldn’t drown out the reminders the heat and dust brought to the forefront of her brain. 

She took another sip of her drink. Unfortunately, it wasn’t easing her bitterness either. Fresh out of nursing school, she had expected to get orders to serve in a hospital in Seoul or Tokyo. Somehow, she ended up being assigned to a MASH unit just miles from the front. They were throwing her right to the wolves.

War didn’t necessarily frighten her. But the Army certainly did. As the bar disappeared behind her eyelids, she vividly recalled her mother’s face when the draft notice came through. The tearful, horrified look. The disappointment in her voice when Hana said she would go.

“How can you join these people?” her mother questioned. “After everything they did to us?”

“Mama, you know I can’t refuse,” Hana returned. “You saw what happened to Shinji.”

“You think I’d forget that?” her mother challenged. “My own son! And now they want to take you too!”

“Even if they let me live, I’d be sent to prison,” Hana shot back, choking on the lump in her throat. “I cannot be locked up again, Mama! I won’t!”

Her mother’s lip trembled and she thrust the summons into Hana’s hand. 

“You disgrace yourself serving them,” she spat. 

Hana tried to blink away the tears, but they fell anyway. “Mama…”

Her mother turned her back on her, and that was the last they saw of each other.

“Lieutenant - uh - Cheeg - uh - nurse - um -” 

A stammering corporal pulled Hana out of her thoughts. She opened her eyes and turned to the side, certain he was looking for her, judging by his frantic glances around and the struggle to pronounce the last name. That usually meant her.

“Chigusa?” she called irritably.

His eyes found hers before looking at the paper and then back at her face. He nodded.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. 

She took pity on him. He was just a kid, after all. Barely five feet tall with a knit cap topping off his baby face. His round glasses added to his wide-eyed, innocent look.

“That’s me,” she said, sliding out of her chair to stand on her feet. “Nurse Hana Chigusa.”

“But your paper says -”

“Hana’s fine.”

She hardly ever went by Hanako anymore. Hana - which she pronounced like the western name “Hannah” - allowed her to blend in with people outside her own community. That was another fight she had with her mother, more than once, but she couldn’t let herself go there now.

“And what’s your name, corporal?” she asked. 

“Radar O’Reilly, ma’am,” he replied, saluting her first with his left hand before quickly correcting it to the right, only to drop the paperwork he carried. 

She giggled, picking it up for him. 

“At ease, Radar,” she said gently. “And for future reference, remain at ease around me. I’m not regular Army.”

“Oh, good,” he sighed, relaxing. 

She handed him the paperwork and he took it gratefully.

“Are you ready to go, ma’am?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said. “I’ll just pay my tab.”

She dropped what was probably too much money on the counter beside her empty glass, but she didn’t care. She was ready to get where she was going. Then, she followed Radar outside where a jeep was waiting. In the passenger seat sat a man wearing a bright orange day dress and a wide brimmed straw hat, secured by pink ribbon around his chin. He had white gloves and white pleather shoes, which also matched his belt. The handbag in his lap was black satin with a pearl button clasp.

Hana blinked, not wanting to stare since it was rude, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. He smiled kindly at her and wiggled his fingers. 

“Hi there,” he said. “Max Klinger. Nice to meet you.”

“Hana,” she replied, still stunned, her eyes roving over him to make sure she was seeing him right. She stopped at his legs. “What no stockings? And with unshaved legs?”

He chuckled. “It’s my face or my legs, sweetheart, and I can’t cover my face.”

She smirked as he held out a hand. He helped her up into the jeep while Radar put her bags in beside her. Then he climbed behind the wheel. 

“Say, Radar, are you old enough to drive?” she teased, and Klinger laughed. 

“Oh, yeah,” Radar replied earnestly. “My uncle taught me when I was seven. I’m nineteen now, so I’ve had lots of practice.”

She looked at Klinger for confirmation, but he only shrugged. Then, Radar turned the engine and stepped on the gas, and they were off into the Korean countryside. 

The further they got from the airport, the more stranded Hana felt. She was stuck here for an undetermined amount of time. To once again be bossed around by the Army. Only this time, she was a part of it. 

“So, lieutenant…” Klinger trailed off, realizing she hadn’t told him her last name.

“Spare me the Army stuff, call me Hana,” she replied.

He smiled at that. “So, Hana, where are you from?”

“Newport Beach,” she told him. “It’s about forty minutes south of Los Angeles.”

“Sounds glamorous,” he returned. “I’m from Toledo, myself.”

“Is that where you learned how to dress?” she asked. 

“I never dressed like this back home,” he admitted. “I just need the Army to think I’m crazy enough to get me back there.”

She chuckled. “I see. So, how far is the hospital?”

“Not far at all,” he said. “We’ll be there before you know it!”

Klinger wasn’t lying. Barely an hour had gone by before they were rolling up to the cluster of buildings that made up the hospital and camp. Once again, Hana remembered Heart Mountain, but pushed it down. She was not a prisoner here. Well, not technically. If there was anything to appreciate, it was the lack of barbed wire.

They were met at the jeep by a blonde woman whose sternness betrayed her beauty. Hana climbed out of the jeep - with help from Radar - and then the woman stuck out her hand. 

“Lieutenant Chigusa, right?” she asked.

Hana nodded, shaking her hand. “That’s right. Hana is fine, though.”

“Not in the Army it’s not,” the woman returned. “I’m Major Houlihan, head nurse here at the 4077th.”

Hana resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Though she supposed it was about time she ran into someone like this. Houlihan ordered Radar and Klinger to drop off Hana’s bags at the nurses’ tent, so they could begin a tour of the facilities. Hana nodded to the corporals to give her permission, before following the major. 

“I’ll take you to your quarters last so you can rest once you get there,” she said. “We’ll start with the mess tent.”

The mess tent was typical. The food even more so. Nasty Army stuff any regular person would turn their nose up at. But Hana had eaten worse. Major Houlihan next took her to the hospital and walked her through pre-op, the scrub room, the OR, and post-op, where there were just two patients at the moment.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Major Houlihan warned. “We can have incoming casualties any minute, and you’ll need to be prepared.”

“I understand, Major,” Hana replied. 

From the hospital, they moved on to the CO’s office, where Hana said hello again to Radar before meeting Lieutenant Colonel Henry Blake. He was a friendly guy, who was definitely not regular Army. He wore a fishing vest with a matching hat loaded with hooks. And he was reclined in his chair, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He didn’t even care that Hana didn’t salute him, and he shook her hand warmly. She liked him right away.

They went to the officer’s club next, which was evidently misnamed. A couple enlisted men were coming out just as Houlihan and Hana were going in. Hana couldn’t help but notice the major’s disapproving glare, though the enlisted guys ignored it. The two women had barely crossed the threshold when two men descended upon them. Both were tall, one had a head of thick, dark hair and blue eyes, while the other had curly, sandy hair and hazel eyes. Both had smiles that indicated mischief.

“Hello, there,” said the dark haired one. “I’m Hawkeye. You must be new here.”

“Trapper,” the other said. “Can we get your name, sweetheart? Buy you a drink to welcome you to Korea?”

Hana glanced between them in disbelief. Did they really think themselves impressive in their mismatched Hawaiian shirts and goofy grins?

“Yes, I am new here,” Hana replied coolly. “And I’m not interested.”

“Not Interested, that’s unique,” said Hawkeye. “What is that, Italian?”

Major Houlihan rolled her eyes. “Ignore these two, Lieutenant. They’re two of our surgeons, Captain Pierce and Captain McIntyre. Unfortunately, they’re very talented or they’d be out of the Army for their disgraceful behavior.”

“I’m sure the patients - despite their gratitude at being alive - are as disgusted as you, Major,” Hana replied, voice dripping with bitterness and sarcasm. 

Hawkeye and Trapper snickered.

Houlihan rankled at that. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re one of them!”

“I have no love for the Army, Major, make no mistake,” Hana said seriously. “I’m here because the alternative was prison. Now, are we done with this tour?”

“I’d say so,” Houlihan said, tossing her hair over her shoulder and storming out. 

Hana breathed a sigh of relief and, ignoring the giggling surgeons, made a beeline for the bar, hoping to leave Pierce and McIntyre behind her as well. But she wasn’t that lucky. The pair followed her and took seats on either side of her. She bit back a groan. Being “fresh meat” wasn’t her style. And she didn’t care for the attention of men. At least, not here.

“Sure we can’t get you that drink, Not Interested?” Hawkeye pressed. “It’s on the Army.”

She smirked and pointedly ignored him. She could see this guy thrived on attention - good or bad - so giving it to him was the last thing she would do. She looked at the bartender.

“Vodka soda, please,” she said. 

He got right to work. 

Trapper tapped her on the shoulder and she spared him a glance.

“Don’t you want to make friends here?” he asked. “Could be a long war.”

“Your eyes have been on my chest since I walked in, forgive me if I don’t believe friendship is what’s on your mind,” she returned. 

The bartender placed her drink in front of her. In Korean, she thanked him and asked his name. He appeared surprised to be addressed by someone fluent, and happily told her his name was Kwang. She offered a slight bow of her head, he bowed back, and then, beaming, starting polishing glasses.

“You speak the local?” Trapper questioned. “Where’d you learn that?”

“I learned as a child, we had Korean neighbors,” she said. 

“That’ll be helpful,” Hawkeye said. “We end up with a lot of Korean casualties here.”

She blinked. “Really?”

He nodded solemnly. It was the first honest expression she’d seen from him. 

“A lot of locals end up in the wrong place at the wrong time,” he said.

“So do a lot of North Koreans,” Trapper added.

Hana’s eyes widened as she looked at him. “You mean, you treat the enemy?”

He nodded. “Of course. We’re doctors.”

Hana almost smiled. If it weren’t such a gruesome subject, she would have. She looked between these two men whose first impression had so turned her off. What a front they put up. She wondered why they hid their decency. The fact remained that it existed, and she wanted to acknowledge it.

“Hana Chigusa,” she said. 

“What?” Trapper asked.

“My name,” she said. “It’s Hana Chigusa.”

He grinned. “Nice to meet you.”

“So, Chigusa,” Hawkeye said. “That’s definitely not Italian.”

She chuckled. “I’m half Japanese.”

They remained at the bar a while, and they got to know her better. She told them about growing up in Newport Beach and her mother’s tea shop there. She told them she went to nursing school at Columbia in New York City, just to experience something new. She told them she was drafted, like them, and came reluctantly to Korea. 

“So, is the surgery really intense here?” she wondered. 

She was pretty nervous. She only had infrequent practical experience post-nursing school. Though, she had graduated at the top of her class.

Hawkeye shrugged. “It’s meatball surgery mostly.”

“Pretty basic extraction of junk,” Trapper said. “Things get more complicated if a limb’s gotta be removed or something, but we just do whatever we can to keep them alive.”

Hana nodded. It sounded about as brutal as she expected. She hoped she’d be able to endure what she would witness. She wondered if she would end up more like Trapper and Hawkeye, with a façade to cover up the ugliness of it all. Then again, she realized she already had one up. What was one more?

Suddenly, a voice came over the loudspeaker. 

“Attention!” it called. “Attention all personnel! Incoming wounded! All personnel report to the OR!”

Hana, Hawkeye, and Trapper all got to their feet. She swallowed. This was the moment to prove herself to her new co-workers. She pushed the nerves away. 

“Scared?” Trapper asked. 

She looked him in the eye with every ounce of confidence she had. 

“Nothing scares me anymore,” she told him.

Her answer perplexed him, but he didn’t have time to analyze it. All three of them jogged out of the bar and across the camp to the hospital. 

#m*a*s*h #trapper john mcintyre #m*a*s*h fic #hanako chigusa #you're still you series

[hackedmotionsensors]

Here we go Endgame lets talk about it! 

BELOW THE CUT

So I’ll say this!!! Over all!!! I liked it a lot. For a lot of reasons.

I also HAAAATTTEEEEEEEDDDDDDDDD a lot of some of the choices. That’s okay. We can have mixed feelings about movies especially the end of a saga. I think they did a good job of getting nods where they needed nods, bringing in storylines from previous movies and conversations that needed to happen.

And they fucking whiffed it on at least THREE REALLY IMPORTANT THINGS!!!

So lets start with what I liked.

1) STEVE TONY EVENT. DO YOU HEAR ME IT WAS A STEVE TONY EVENT  aaaah oh my god. From the second Tony lands back on the planet and Steve RUNS to him before even Pepper and he’s holding him and just the look of agony as Pepper takes him away and the fight where Tony says ALL THE SHIT WE HAD BEEN SAYING!!!! WHERE WERE YOU! YOU LIAR!!! and he RIPS HIS HEART OFF OF HIS CHEST AND GIVES IT TO STEVE BECAUSE YOU FUCKING BROKE HIS HEART YOU FUCKING FUCKED UP STEVE!!!!! FUCKK!!!! And then reconciling because “Resentment is corrosive” UGHHH!!! And Steve just barely containing himself when Tony shows up ughh!! UGHHH!!!!!!! AND THE ASS JOKE!!! THERE’S NO HETEROSEXUAL EXPLANATION ABOUT THAT!!!! TONY SAW STEVES ASS AND WAS LIKE TAN FRANCED IT LIKE BITCH YOU NEED AN FRENCH TUCK OF MY DING DONG IN YOUR BUTT!!! and Steve over the intercom being like “omg tony not in front of the kids” AND A STEVETONY SOLO MISSION!!!!!! 

A STEVE TONY...

SOLO

MISSION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

TONY CALLING STEVE MY MAN  WOW. WOW. FUCKING EXCELLENT ON ALL ACCOUNTS THANKS SO MUCH!! I was given some bread thank you I will eat this stevetony bread nom nom nom nom nom.

2) Tony’s arc in this story was really beautiful. He finally got what he wanted, some perspective and closure with Howard. And I know initially you want to go “Hey Howard was really abusive” and yeah he was. But its complicated. Because Tony even says in Homecoming he was trying to break the cycle of abuse and he DID with Peter and Morgan. You can see just HOW MUCH he cares for his daughter and he was willing to say fuck you to the UNIVERSE in favor of not losing her. Its always a different perspective when you see your parents as people and not as YOUR PARENTS. 

Also Tony lying on the table with Natasha UuU. A lot of the interactions with Tony and the other characters were so good. Tony and Rocket. Tony and Nebula. Tony and Carol (tho brief). Tony arguing with Pierce like his little gay senses were like “This guys a nazi I bet”

3) I genuinely liked the Time Heist. I DID  NOT LIKE THE RULES OF TIME TRAVEL IN THIS MOVIE BUT I’LL GET TO THAT. But I looooved the Time Heist. From the New York stuff with Steve fighting Steve and knowing his dumbass loses his shit when he hears things like “Bucky’s still alive” and being done with his own stupid shit “I can do this all day” “YEAH I KNOW” (which btw at this point was basically the last thing he said to Tony in Civil War so maybe that doesn’t have its plucky little fire anymore and now is a sore spot). I loved Loki running away with the Space Stone (even tho as of now I’m still not sure what the FUCK THAT MEANS!? more on that in a sec) Loki making fun of Cap. Loki rolling his eyes at Odin. Tony dressed in a shield outfit screaming Medic!!! The gang all on the elevator and Hulk screaming about it and LOKI WAVING HIS HAND AT THE HULK AS THE DOORS SHUT!! TONY SITTING ON THE BRIEFCASE! SCOTT GOING “how the FUCK did you not know they were Hydra LOOK AT THEM They’re a COP!” Then jumping forward to the 70s and Steve’s legs that went all the way up to his asshole and Tony dressed as a doctor

I drew a doodle of it here you go lol I’ll post it properly later

oh did this not happen? Idk what movie you were watching.

4) The big battle at the end was SO FUCKING COMIC BOOK I WAS LOSING IT. Also I keep calling it the Battle of Five Armies or Return of the King lol T’challa BATHED IN A HALO OF LIGHT LIKE YES WE STAN A KING. MY WIFE

MY.

WIFE!!!!!!!!

VALKYRIE!!! ON HER BEAUTIFUL WHITE HORSE!!!! (also not being given an actual name and called Valkyrie is the funniest goddamn thing. Like that’s like going into a Footlocker and talking to the manager but calling them Manager)

CAROL!!!!!! WITH HER BUTCH ASS HAIRCUT PUNCHING THANOS IN THE MOUTH AND WRECKING HIS SHIT

WANDA FINALLY FUCKING FLYING. LIKE. F L Y I N G. THAT is what the Scarlet Witch is SUPPOSED TO DO!! SHE’S SUPPOSED TO BE SO POWERFUL IT TOOK EVERYONE TO TAKE HER DOWN CMON!!!!!! And she almost got him too. Honestly if it were down to Carol and Wanda they probably could have ended Thanos alone. 

Korg coming back for more comic relief AND PUTTING HIM IN TAIKA’S PINEAPPLE ONESIE!!!! ARE YOU KIDDING.

5) This is controversial. And I know it won’t age well. And that’s okay and feel free to disagree with me entirely. 

But I liked Fat Thor lmfao. I know it was played as a joke for the wrong reasons but I laughed. I was like fuck yes his belly looks like mine and that’s not why it was funny and it SHOULDN’T BE but I laughed lol. But on the other hand I think it had partially to do with Hemsworth constantly being like “no no we don’t need a shirtless scene” or just sort of a gag at how Marvel always has a shirtless scene and its just kind of funny to have it not be someone cut. EVEN THOUGH its a fat suit and I can’t take off my fat suit but Hemmy can and that’s kinda shitty. 

but I laughed. I can’t help it. He was a whole ass mess and I thought it was funny. And I know there are Thor fans out there who wanted more for him but like I said before this was a SteveTony event. This movie and this win worked because it was Steve and Tony finally coming together again.

It felt honestly the most comic book Avengers of the entire series. 

And true to comic book events

it whiffed the landing.

Before I get into dislikes I’ll say that I liked this movie more than I disliked it. I cried H A R D at the end of the movie. Because its not a movie that’s an on its own kind of movie. You had to have gone through the journey to get here. The pay off is completely lost if you only watch this movie. Or you only watch one or two of the MCU. Or if you’re like a few people I’ve talked to where they only like Steve and Tony. Or they only like Thor and Loki. Or they only like the Guardians and hate the avengers. If you have hate in your heart for any of these characters the payoff of this movie is pretty much lost.

The theme of this movie is clearly about moving on when things come to an end. When things stop or end or we lose people we love you have to move on. Steve says that at the beginning of the movie to our apparent gay representative straight director Joe Russo.

But like Tony said before.

Steve’s a fucking liar lmfao

But lets not start there. Lets start with the fucking timeline.

I hate.

I H A  T E EEEEEEEEE TIME TRAVEL!!!!!! AS A PLOT!!!!!!! WITHOUT ANY RULES!!!!!!!!!

I enjoyed what we SAW of the Time travel but the rules itself DIDN’T MAKE ANY FUCKING SENSE.

So when they’re suiting up Hawkeye for the test run Bruce explicitly says that all these movies that say “if you go into the past and fuck up the past you fuck up the timeline and the present/future is fucked because you’ve changed things”

ARE WRONG. HE SAYS THEY ARE WRONG. He says “If you go into the past. The past becomes your present. But the present then becomes your future. So you can’t go back and un fuck your parents to make you. Or kill baby Thanos. because that happened and you can’t change that but you can change youre present”

WHICH DOESN’T

MAKE ANY

FUCKING

SENSE. BECAUSE THEN YOU AREN”T TIME TRAVELING!!!!!!!!! 

If you go into the past yes YOU are in your present but the world is still being written around you STILL so you go into the past and change something (loki making off with the space stone) that’s CHANGED. You’ve created a new reality.

THEY EXPLICITLY SAY THIS IN DOCTOR STRANGE AND Y’ALL I KNOW DOCTOR STRANGE WAS BORING AS HELL BUT IF YOU’RE GOING TO USE TIME TRAVEL AS YOUR STORY DEVICE THEN YOU CAN’T SAY THAT SHIT IN DOCTOR STRANGE DOESN’T WORK WHEN YOU’VE ESTABLISHED IT AS THE RULES OF TIME TRAVEL.

THE ANCIENT ONE EVEN SAYS “you create a new reality. And it fucks shit up”

LIKE!?!?!??!

WHAT THE HELL!!!

So now Loki has the time Stone in reality B, in reality A Steve goes back and puts the stones back where they belong (and I guess.....gives the soul stone to Red Skull????????? wouldn’t you try to get Natasha back????like that itself is a whole movie of Steve going back and putting things away but ??????) 

And then we get to the end of the movie where Steve says Fuck you to Peggy’s reality A family and now on this timeline where they’ve time traveled he lived an entire life WITH Peggy but like.......you were Captain America and you just said “No don’t worry about JFK being assassinated. Or the Civil Rights movement. Or stopping Bucky in any capacity. Or maybe saving MLK. Or Peggy continuing to join SHIELD. Or stopping ACTUAL NAZIS from infiltrating SHIELD.

Because if you go with this idea that Steve went back and “lived a life” What did he DO then. What did he FUCKING. DO?

You’re not Steve from 1940s going back to 1940s. You’re Steve form 2019 going back to 1940s. No wifi. No medicine. No cell phones? Gays are still being persecuted. You can’t drink from the same fountain as black people (or rather they can’t drink from your white fountain). 

You are.

CAPTAIN.

AMERICA.

and you just said nah fuck it its fine? This shit can all happen but I don’t super care because I get to dance with Peggy. Peggy who on her own had this whole life. Who did all this stuff IN YOUR NAME IN YOUR HONOR. Who married someone else. Who had a FAMILY. Who had a NIECE that you made out with. And just..... wha....

Like if he had gone back and danced with her but came back with Natasha in exchange for the soul stone but during his travels had aged. Or met someone else.

Like movie wise and story wise I get wrapping up Steve’s story. And maybe the person Peggy is talking about in the video of her in TWS is actually Steve from 2019. Maybe that’s it. But it still doesn’t make sense because they FUCKED UP THE RULES OF TIME TRAVEL SO WHO THE FUCK KNOWS.

So. lol I wasn’t a huge fan of Steve at the end of the movie. I know they needed to do something to end the movie with a finality. With Steve being DONE. But instead of finality or closure I just have so many goddamn questions. And I don’t hold it against Evans or even really the directors per say. But I’ll blame Markus and McFeely because they were writing since TWS. They HAD the Cap STORYLINE to write about and that was how they ended it.

its like when you pack for a very important trip and you plan out all your outfits but then wake up late and end up throwing whatever you can find into your suitcase and run out the door.

It felt final and not final.

But I’ll tell you this. From my perspective and obviously I’m going to skew it this way because its me and FEEL FREE to disagree with me.

He left because Tony and Natasha were dead. The two people that he felt the closest to (sorry Sam, Bucky and Sharon [who we didn’t even see as dusted wow]) were gone. Natasha and Steve had become a brother and sister. He would always come back for her clearly. Trying to cheer her up as she’s crying. Natasha understanding Steve’s feeling of being lost. Tony inspiring and fighting with Steve. Like that’s part of what I liked about this is taht you could really feel how Steve and Tony needed each other for this to work but also they needed to not hate each other. 

Also I kinda knew the second Scott said “That’s a one way trip!!” before the 70s bit that Steve was going to stay in the past lol What an asshole.

Also I don’t think it was very UN-Captain America because I think people don’t always realize that a lot of the inspo for the MCU came ALSO from Ultimates. And if Ults Cap was able to go back to the past he would have in a heartbeat. Who was a more depressed Cap? Ults or MCU? I just don’t know.

Now.

Natasha.

This was another one I kind of saw coming from a mile away as soon as it was just the two of them on Vormir. I was kind of hoping they’d Hawkeye a way out of the deal by like throwing his daughters picture or something like that. Or that it would be Hawkeye. But they both had an upcoming movie/series so I didn’t know which way it went.

And then there was that big jump. And I was like oh my god they did it right

AND THEN THEY FUCKING DIDN’T.

Wow. Wowwwwwwwwww

Markus and McFeely 

REALLY DID THAT

THE RUSSO BROTHERS REALLY DID THAT

THEY DID THE SAME FUCKING SCENE TWICE.

The first time you get because Thanos is a dick and abusive and he would absolutely throw his favorite daughter into the soul pit (which I guess Isn’t picky because she didn’t love him back she hated him but I guess its a one way street with the ol’ soul stone)

And they don’t say during that one (far as I remember) that its a permanent exchange. 

But they sure emphasized this time. And they sure killed the original avenger who was the only girl on the team. Who never got a chance to live.

Who Whedon made herself call heself a monster because she can’t have a family and then she gets a found family and then SHE DIES. THEY KILL HER. AFTER HAVING A FAMILY.

WHAT THE FUCK. Like...my problems with Scarjo aside (which are similar with my problems with Paltrow) You DID. BLACK. WIDOW. FUCKING. DIRTY. I don’t care that there’s a movie coming out that was her story. You were supposed to give her a fucking story. And now her story is only how she relates to her TEAM OF MEN.

And now to my last point that I didn’t like. And I don’t hate this one as much as Steve’s ending or Natasha’s ending.

I don’t like that Tony died. I know this is wrapped up in a lot of emotions I have about Tony Stark the character. Robert Downey Jr the person. Tony Stark the character in all his forms is very important to me and I love that he has many forms. 616, Ults, AvAc, Avengers Assemble, the MCU. But his story is important to me. And its heartbreaking. I’m tearing up a bit now writing this out. 

I’m just the type of person that hates that a character, in a fantasy setting where you have wizards, valkyries, robots, talking raccoons and trees, Dave Bautista, a giant green rage monster wearing chinos, that you have to take this one part and make it realistic. That we have to keep realism kill this character off because it doesn’t make sense if someone doesn’t die. Because the stakes aren’t high if you don’t make them personal as well.

Which is true like you don’t have high stakes (the planet or universe getting dusted) if you don’t are about some of the people in that universe personally.

I just would have rather he had retired. Moved onto his little farm with Pepper and Morgan.

I think they did right by Tony. Storywise, ending...all the stuff the dropped the fucking ball on with Natasha and Steve they gave to Tony. And on one hand I get it and I appreciate that because (sorry to nat and steve fans truly) I care more about Tony. Tony started this whole thing. In a miracle of accidents they got the right actor, the right story, the right character, the right director, the right timing technology wise, the right social mood and made solid gold. And none of this would have happened if it weren’t for that amazing accident that happened.

And I think it has more to do with not wanting to let go or move on even though i can always go back to Iron Man 1 at any point and start the journey over again and have a laugh but there’s always going to be that ending where its final. Its done. Its over. And in the simplest of terms. I don’t like it. You have to know when to bow out and I respect and appreciate that. I don’t wanna see Iron Man 8 with geriatric old RDJ trying to fumble into a mocap suit.

I understand. I appreciate. But I don’t have to like it as a person. And that’s okay.

Its all about moving on isn’t it? That’s the theme of the movie. Moving on.

Even if you’re steve and your moving on wipes out the existance of a whole other family lmfaaoidnsfasfada sorry sorry. 

Okay. yeah that’s all I think I can think of. I’m sure there’s a ton more other people have mentioned aside from what I wrote. Like its a LONG movie and I think its hard to say hey “they fucked this up” or “they got this right” for EVERY SINGLE THING. There were so many characters. Nebula’s story could have been better. Thor’s story could have been more involved. Hawkeye could have been more important throughout the series. Janet could have come back for the final fight and healed Tony. Like there’s a ton of “this COULD have happened” But it didn’t. And that’s okay. It may not be right but its okay. I think they wrapped it up as best you could while still making a good movie. I think you probably can go back after a long while and look at the Endgame and go yeah that wasn’t so bad for an ending. Endings are hard to do with any sort of skill. Its why the joke that the third movie always sucks. 

There’s still a ton of stuff to look forward to.

Falcon/Winter Soldier, Loki, Hawkeye, Wanda and Vision (i GUESS??? lol), Black Widow’s movie. 

Maybe Steve solved more than he let on who knows. WHO KNOWS. Maybe Mjolnir left him haflway through the journey when she knew he was going to ditch his 2019 family (who again....mostly dead now)

I love Tony 3000. Which I found out is more than a ton which makes Morgan Stark a lot smarter than I am lmfao

#avengers: endgame spoilers #endgame spoilers #avengers endgame spoilers #spoilers

[born-in-the-wrong-multiverse]

Literal Baby Blues

Title: Literal Baby Blues

Square: De-aging for @clintbartonbingo

Warning: Language

Pairing: None

Summary: When Clint ‘volunteers’ for an experimental procedure to make himself sixteen again for the sake of a mission, no one could have predicted how horribly wrong it could all go.

"You absolutely promise this won't be permanent?"  "I swear it. Forty eight hours, max. It'll wear off gradually over the last couple of hours but until then, you'll be sixteen again."  "Greattttt. Because that's every grown man's greatest fantasy, to be pimply with a squeaky voice right before he's even had his growth spurt all over again." Clint was understandably a little unhappy about the whole situation. He'd drawn the short straw, though, and now he had no choice but to follow through, no matter how hard he might try to talk his way out of it. "How do you even know this will work in the first place? I'm guessing you didn't exactly use yourself as a guinea pig, Banner." Looking up briefly from the monitor he was observing as he calculated the dosage based on Clint's weight and height and current age, Bruce nudged his glasses up a little higher on his nose, delaying the need to answer. "Well...I mean...the mice responded well." Clint damn near shrieked at him. "Mice?! You mean you've only tested it on rodents?!" "Well," Bruce muttered, "Every scientific theory has to start somewhere." "And now you're back to calling it a theory!" Clint's eyes bugged out of his skull, backing away from the workbench hastily. "You're joking, right? About this whole stupid idea?" When Bruce shook his head, eyes full of sympathy, Clint slumped dejectedly, reluctantly resigning himself to his fate. Whatever it might be. "Fine," he grumbled, "Just make it quick so I can get this mission over with and go back to being a full grown man with all his short and curlies again." Scrunching his face up as he pinched the bridge of his nose, Bruce just nodded, doing his best to bleach that image from his brain as he instructed Clint to sit down and lay back in the chair. "You'll likely experience a little disorientation, your balance will be a little compromised to begin with until you adjust, but your mind will be your own. You'll have all your memories, all your personality and...quirks...will be intact." "Oh, I suppose you and Pym just asked your little mice subjects to clarify all that for you in a handy little questionnaire, huh?" Ignoring Clint's little outburst, Bruce drew back on the syringe as it filled with the serum that would revert him back to his teenage body. "Okay? Ready?" "Do I look ready?" Clint muttered, his eyes wide with trepidation and displeasure. Bruce shrugged. "Not really."

Over the course of the forty seven minutes following the injection which flooded Clint's veins with the highly experimental solution, the Avenger's body shrank, in both height and muscle mass. The battle-weary creases at the corners of his eyes smoothed until they were no longer a visible reminder of the seven layers of hell he'd survived. The scruff on his jaw and chin retreated, leaving only the faintest hint of fluff on his top lip, while his voice lost its tenor. Almost disconcertingly, however, his nose still heralded the crooked memories of every time it had been broken in a fight, and the reminders of innumerable gunshots, stab wounds and other miscellaneous injuries still scarred his skin. "Aw futz," Clint croaked as he tested out his resurrected, under-developed vocal cords. Looking at himself in the mirror, he cringed, resisting the urge to reach up to squeeze the zit that itched next to his left nostril. "Forty eight hours, right?" For a moment, Bruce didn't respond. He was gawking awestruck, foremost at the serum's success, but also at the sight of sixteen year old Clint in all his gangly glory; he hadn't grown into his limbs, yet, and the years of hard work put into his physique hadn't yet passed. He hadn't expected the scars to remain, either; he had, foolishly he now realised, assumed that the formula would have somewhat regenerative properties. "Banner! Don't stand there staring at me like I'm your Frankenstein's monster success story; answer me! Forty eight hours and I can go back to normal, right?" "Right!" Bruce snapped out of his reverie, nodding emphatically at the teenaged Hawkeye. "So, better make them count. Unless you want to have to go through this whole thing again." Eyes wide, Clint squawked a curse. "Not a futzin' chance." 

It started slowly at first, so gradually it was imperceptible to the naked eye. The crackling pop of his maturing voice started to shift up an octave instead of dropping one. The shoes that had fit perfectly that morning started to slip off his feet with every step. The fuzz on his lip receded one hair at a time without him so much as lifting a razor. It wasn't until his gums painfully swallowed his wisdom teeth forty two hours in that Clint realised something was horribly wrong.  "Fix this!" Clint shrilled at Bruce as he stormed into the lab with all the fury his now twelve year old self could exude. "I'm supposed to be getting older, not younger!" Bruce's eyes expanded in perfect synchronicity with his jaw dropping. "I...none of the test subjects experienced anything like this. I'm not even sure what...I mean...I can't fix what I don't understand, Clint." "Then understand it! Figure out what's happening and fix it!" the younger version of Clint Barton snapped, his voice no longer squeaking with the effort of pushing words past vocal cords that were still figuring out their role in this world. “An hour ago my balls were still right where I’d left them and now they’re back up somewhere between my bladder and my spleen along with the pitch of my voice! Fix it so they drop back down where they belong or so help me God, Banner...” Squashing down the absurd instinct to deliver an unnecessary anatomy lesson, Bruce exhaled slowly. Bracing himself for another outburst, he held his hands up, palms out so as to placate the already irate archer. “Give me time. I just...I need some time to run tests and figure this out, but I promise, I can fix this." He paused. "I think." "It's the 'I think' part that worries me," Clint groaned. He was almost certain that in the five minutes since he'd walked into the lab, he'd shrunk another inch, and the pre-pubescent blemishes had faded from his now perfectly smooth skin. "I swear I'm losing two years every couple of minutes now. If you don't fix this before I'm back in diapers, I will sink my milk teeth into you!" "Six hours," Bruce pleaded, "And that's if I take a lot of shortcuts. But I'm going to need at least six hours to run tests. I'll need blood, hair and a cheek swab. To begin with, at least." Gritting his teeth, Clint scrunched his now nine year old face up in contempt. "I'd even jerk off into a cup if it would help but I'm not sure I'm even capable of that any more." Pinching the bridge of his nose, Bruce rubbed his eyes with the pads of his thumb and forefinger, his glasses resting on his knuckles as he sighed. Admitting he needed at least six hours to even run the tests was one thing, but trying to tell Clint that he would need adult supervision for the duration of those six hours was going to be another thing entirely. 

"Gimme the goddamn drink! I'm teething and have nappy rash that itches worse than a case of the clap because someone -" the piercing pair of literal baby blues shot daggers in Bucky's direction, "- forgot to powder my ass!" At two years old, it was disconcerting hearing that sort of language spouting from Clint's tiny, but not yet completely toothless mouth. The team that wasn't hunting for answers in the lab was officially stuck on babysitting duties. While Clint retained his memories and his ability to speak, his fine motor skills were on the decline, resulting in the need for a little more help getting around. Pym had suggested it was possibly only a matter of time until even his vocal cords reverted back to being unable to form sophisticated sounds, too. Clint hadn't liked that, and was in the middle of a particularly foul mouthed tantrum as though to make the most of what time he had left to do so. "Well next time tell one of us you need to crap yourself and we'll take you to the bathroom so you can do it in the big boy's potty instead," Bucky smirked, clearly still not over the trauma of changing his teammate's dirty diaper, and still cursing Tony for suggesting that they draw straws for it, too; especially when he was positive Tony had somehow cheated. Just because he looked like a toddler didn't mean it was any less Clint. "Besides, you can't metabolize alcohol any more. So, suck it up. Have a binky instead." The look of pure rage blazing in Clint's eyes when Bucky tossed a pacifier in his direction was enough to force Steve's hand, as he stepped in and lifted Clint into his arms. "Okay, that's enough out of you. I think you need a nap." "No I do not need a nap!" Clint protested, but even as he did so, he yawned, snuggling into the crook of Steve's neck and shoulder. "I am a grown ass man. Grown men don't use binkies or take naps or...or..." "Shit in diapers?" Bucky teased, eliciting a tempestuous shriek of indignant wrath from the two foot tall, blond haired boy with eyes bluer and colder than icicles as he tried to fling himself from Steve's arms in an effort to sink his sharp little fingernails into Bucky's face. “Okay,” Steve laughed, drawing the word out slowly as he wrangled Clint in his arms, “Enough. Just because you look like a baby doesn’t mean you need to act like one.” Watching with an eyebrow raised in bemusement, Nat piped with an affectionate taunt in her voice, “This is Clint we’re talking about. Acting like a baby is sort of what he does best.” Clint shot a furious look in her direction, but with his plump infantile features, the scrunched up button nose and pouty lips only served to remind Nat of a Cabbage Patch doll, making her own face contort with the effort of holding back her laughter. Sucking in a breath to try and calm herself, Nat looked at Clint sympathetically, walking over to take him from Steve’s arms and cradled him close to her chest to try and comfort him. “Just hang in there a little longer. Banner, Pym and Stark are all working on a way to reverse this, but you gotta be patient. They can either do it fast, or they can do it right. Which would you prefer?” “Both,” Clint muttered. “Can’t we just get Strange to do his magic wizard thing and take me back to before I agreed to this nonsense? So I can use my brain for once and refuse to do it at all?” Glances were exchanged between the group; the idea had been floated briefly, but was quickly rejected. The mission itself had been a triumph, and a diplomat’s sixteen year old son had been saved from a politically fuelled abduction attempt. Any effort to distort the prose of history could undo all that hard work, and none of them were willing to take that risk. “You know why we can’t do that,” Steve sighed softly, “Just...be patient, like Nat said.” Tears welled in Clint’s eyes, and for a moment, it was easy to forget that there was a man in his mid-thirties trapped inside that baby’s body. His bottom lip trembled, and his eyes screwed shut, sniffing loudly as he tried to force the sob of despair back down his throat before it could escape. Fat, lazy tears of pure frustration slipped down his cheeks as he looked around the room at each of his teammates, silently pleading with them to help him. He knew they were doing all they could, but he was losing hope. When he opened his mouth to speak again, all that came out was a few babbled, incoherent syllables. “Oh no...” Nat’s hand flew to her mouth as it dropped open in horror. None of them knew what would happen if Clint continued to shed months of his life in mere minutes, and it was clear now that he didn’t have many months left to lose. “We’re going to get you back to normal, Clint. Until we do, we’re going to look after you. You’re going to be okay.” 

Moments after the now four month old baby Barton fell asleep in Natasha’s arms, Bruce summoned Steve to the lab. The sombre look on his face wasn’t promising. “He’s stopped growing younger,” Banner frowned, cleaning his glasses on the hem of his shirt, “But...we still can’t figure out how to reverse it. Barton’s antibodies should have kicked in and essentially started eating at the serum as it attached itself to his cells, but, the serum was too strong. We could try giving his immune system a boost, but if his white blood cell count raises too high, then...that in itself won’t be good, either.” Looking Steve in the eye, Tony folded his arms across his chest, and shrugged. “The alternatives are to either let him grow up all over again,” he quirked an eyebrow at the look of disbelief on Captain Roger’s face and held his hands up, demanding patience before he continued, “Or we keep looking. The solution is here,” he tapped his temple and shrugged again, “We just need to dig around in the grey matter to find it. Until then, I guess we all just signed up for Parenting 101.” 

#clint barton #clint barton bingo #hawkeye #marvel #marvel fic #hawkeye fic #clint barton fic #fanfiction #aw futz

[urwarriorangel]

<3 urwarriorangel’s writing challenge <3

hello my darling angels! i have started a writing challenge because i want to read more of what you write. i’m calling this a challenge because that’s what i’ve read others call it? rules are listed below! all submissions will be read by yours truly and (if they follow the p basic rules) i will post them all on a masterlist! i will reblog them and give you feedback because that’s what should happen regardless and also i love you guys! (gif not mine!)

rules

*no rape/incest/underage sex/etc.

*if you choose to write smut, you must be 18+!!! the characters you’re writing for must be 18+!!

*must be character x reader! you can write for multiple characters, but it still must be a reader insert!

*it’s first come first serve for characters, meaning there are character limits. multiple people can write for the same character, but they are capped. so please message me as soon as you see a character you want to write for!

*only one prompt per fic! (bonus points if you use any of my original prompts lol!) (also prompts can only be used once)

*triggers must be tagged. if there are any triggers in your fic, you must have a trigger warning. i cannot emphasize this enough.

*fic should be at least 500 words, if it’s longer (which please make it as long as you’d like!) you have to add a ‘read more’

*must tag me in the fic and use # urwarriorangelwritingchallenge <3

*fic should be a new original, not an old piece being resubmitted or a part of an already existing series. (you can write a series for this challenge if you’d like!)

*bonus points if you’re a poc!writer with a poc!reader <3 <3 <3

*you must respect the sexuality of the character! if you would like for an lgbtq+ character, their sexuality should not change in the fic. thank you!

*please send me a message with the character(s) you’d like to write for and the prompt!

example: damon salvatore + “i don’t know how much longer i can go on”

~the masterlist will be posted on august 13th! (if this goes well aka if people participate i would love to do this more often!)~

categories allowed:

anything your heart desires. if you’re going to write fluff please keep it compelling! add a few different styles together! give me some angst, some smut. make it a mystery! i mean absolutely no disrespect to those who write/read only fluff, but personally i find fluff a little more fun when it’s got multiple components! (if you write only fluff, please go ahead and write fluff! i will read it and i’m sure i’ll love it! these are just my personal preferences!)

i love aus very much, so please don’t shy away from them!

characters & prompts under the cut!

characters (five slots for each character)

agents of shield

al mackenzie antoine “trip” triplett daisy “skye” johnson grant ward jemma simmons lance hunter leopold fitz lincoln campbell

brooklyn 99

amy santiago charles boyle gina linetti jake peralta raymond holt rosa diaz terrence jeffords

buffy the vampire slayer

angel buffy summers cordelia chase rupert giles william the bloody aka spike

criminal minds

aaron hotchner david rossi derek morgan elle greenaway emily prentiss jennifer jareau luke alvez penelope garcia spencer reid

defenders-ish

billy russo frank castle jessica jones luke cage matt murdock

friends

chandler bing joey tribbiani monica geller phoebe buffay rachel green ross geller

game of thrones

arya stark benjen stark daenerys targaryen eddard stark jaime lannister jon snow khal drogo robb stark samwell tarly sansa stark tyrion lannister

gossip girl

blair waldorf carter baizen chuck bass dan humphrey nate archibald serena van der woodsen vanessa abrams

harry potter

draco malfoy fred weasley george weasley harry potter hermione granger remus lupin ronald weasley sirius black (young) tom riddle

hawaii five-0

adam noshimuri chin ho kelly daniel williams kono kalakaua michael noshimuri steve mcgarrett

jane the virgin

adam alvaro jane gloriana villanueva petra solano rafael solano

lucky number slevin

slevin kelevra

mcu

bruce banner aka hulk brunnhilde aka my valkyrie queen bucky barnes aka winter soldier clint barton aka hawkeye drax aka the destroyer erik stevens aka killmonger gamora aka um need we say more? janet van dyne aka wasp loki aka loki m’baku aka you already know mantis aka mantis aka a fucking cutie may parker aka ailf nakia aka loml okoye aka incredible badass peggy carter aka kickass peter parker aka spider-man peter quill aka star-lord pietro maximoff aka quicksilver sam wilson aka falcon scott lang aka antman shuri aka an angel stephen strange aka dr. strange steve rogers aka captain america t’challa aka black panther thor aka thor tony stark aka iron-man wanda maximoff aka scarlet witch

new girl

coach nick miller

pretty little liars

aria montgomery caleb rivers emily fields ezra fitz hanna marin jason dilaurentis mona vanderwaal noel kahn spencer hastings wren kingston

reign

francis mary stuart nostradamus sebastian

riverdale

archie andrews betty cooper cheryl blossom fangs fogarty fp jones fred andrews jason blossom josie mccoy jughead jones kevin keller malachai charles!reggie mantle ross!reggie mantle sweet pea toni topaz valerie brown veronica lodge

shadowhunters

alec lightwood clary fray isabelle lightwood jace herondale lucian grey magnus bane simon lewis

teen wolf

allison argent chris argent cora hale derek hale isaac lahey jackson whittermore jordan parrish kira yukimura liam dunbar lydia martin malia tate peter hale scott mccall stiles stilinski theo raeken

the 100

bellamy blake clarke griffin echo finn collins jasper jordan john murphy king roan lexa lincoln monty green nathan miller octavia blake ontari raven reyes wells jaha

the originals

davina claire elijah mikaelson freya mikaelson hayley marshall kol mikaelson lucian castle niklaus mikaelson marcel gerard rebekah mikaelson

the vampire diaries

bonnie bennett caroline forbes damon salvatore elena gilbert jeremy gilbert katherine pierce malachi parker mary louise matt donovan nora hildegard olivia parker tyler lockwood stefan salvatore sybil

x-men

alex summers aka havok charles xavier aka young!professor x erik lehnsherr aka magneto hank mccoy aka beast jean grey aka phoenix logan aka wolverine peter maximoff aka quiksilver ororo monroe aka storm raven darkholme aka mystique

prompts (once someone requests a prompt, i will update the list! list will be updated once a day, if multiple people ask for a prompt in between updates, i will give it to the first person who sent me an ask. i realize that there are more character options than there are prompts, i did this because i don’t think too many people will participate. if we ever run out, i will add more prompts! example of request: klaus mikaelson + “give me a chance”)

(rfaimagining)

angst

1: “ give me a chance. ”

2: “ not you again.. ”

3: “ leave me alone. ”

4: “ i don’t love you anymore. ”

5: “ why do you hate me? ”

6: “ i lost the baby. ”

7: “ i thought you loved me. ”

8: “ i don’t need you anymore. ”

9:“ i can’t believe you! ”

10: “ we can't keep this up forever. ”

11: “ you’re a monster. ”

12: “ i hate you. ”

13: “ don’t leave me… ”

14: “ you’re a disappointment. ”

15: “ don’t die on me– please. ”

16: “ i never meant to hurt you. ”

17: “ are you upset with me? ”

18: “ i wish i’d never met you. ”

19: “ i’m going to kill you! ”

20: “ please don’t hurt me like this. ”

21: “ thanks for nothing. ”

22: “ dont call this number again. “

23: “ why did you spare me? ”

24: “ you need to leave. ”

25: “ i’m sick. ”

26: “ i’m dying. ”

27: “ i wish i’d never met you. ”

28: “ i thought we were family!”

29: “ there was never an us. ”

30: “ so that’s it? it’s over? ”

31: “ i fucked up. ”

32: “ i came to say goodbye. ”

33:“ he’s dead because of you. ”

34: “ i don’t deserve to be loved. ”

35: “ about the baby… its yours. ”

love

36: “ i’m so in love with you. ”

37: “ dance with me! ”

38: “ isn’t this amazing? ”

39: “ i wish we could stay like this forever. ”

40: “ will you marry me? ”

41: “ i’m pregnant. ”

42: “ i need a hug. ”

43: “ you’re special to me. ”

44: “ i’m going to keep you safe. ”

45: “ do you trust me? ”

46: “ can i kiss you right now? ”

47: “ you’re cute when you’re angry. ”

48: “ i’ve liked you for awhile now. ”

49: “ let’s have a baby. ”

50: “ we’d make such a cute couple. ”

51: “ i want to take care of you. ”

52: “ can we cuddle? ”

53: “ it’s lonely here without you. ”

54: “ i can’t stand the thought of losing you. ”

55: “ shut up and kiss me already. ”

56: “ are you flirting with me? ”

57: “ is that my shirt? ”

58: “ how did we get here? ”

59: “ you own my heart. ”

60: “ you’d be a great dad. ”

61: “ you’d be a great mom. ”

62: “ i want to protect you. ”

63: “ what's the matter? ”

64: “ you’re so beautiful. ”

65: “ did you do something different with your hair? ”

66: “ is that a new perfume? ”

67: “ stop being so cute. ”

68: “ you’re making me blush! ”

69: “ you’re teasing me again… ”

70: “ this is why i fell in love with you. ”

71: “ you’re the best! ”

72: “ they’re going to love you, don’t worry! ”

73: “ oh, are you ticklish? ”

74: “ of course i remembered! ”

75: “ you’re one hell of a girl. ”

76: “ you’re one hell of a guy. ”

77: “ are you jealous? ”

78: “ hold me and never let me go. ”

79: “ stop hogging all the blankets! ”

80: “ lets run away together. ”

misc

90: “ catch me if you can! ”

91: “ i’m fine. ”

92: “ are you drunk? ”

93: “ are you high? ”

94: “ we can't go in there… ”

95: “ give it back! ”

96: “ well this is just great. ”

97: “ don’t touch me. ”

98: “ not sure if you could tell, but i’m not exactly a people person. ”

99: “ this was fun— let's do it again sometime!”

100: “ i didn’t do it! ”

101: “ i did it… ”

102: “ i don’t remember that! ”

103: “ well that’s pretty rude of you to say. ”

104: “ get that thing away from me! ”

105: “ you owe me. ”

106: “ do you believe in aliens? ”

107: “ do you believe in ghosts? ”

108: “ are you hitting on me? ”

109: “ why are you naked? ”

110: “ you did what?! ”

111: “ you have… superpowers? ”

112: “ why are you bleeding? ”

113: “ where did all these puppies come from?”

114: “ don’t make me come over there myself! ”

115: “ that wasn’t funny. ”

116: “ this tastes horrible. ”

117: “ this is delicious! ”

118: “ are you mad at me? ”

119: “ stop ignoring me… ”

120: “ i love that show too! ”

121: “ can i borrow that book of yours?”

122: “ let's blow this joint. ”

123: “ let me help you with that. ”

124: “ take that back! ”

125: “ wanna go see a movie with me? ”

126: “ no way, that’s so lame. ”

127: “ what are you listening to? ”

128: “ i brought you your coffee. ”

129: “ don’t fuck this up. ”

130: “ run! ”

131: “ lets run away together. ”

132: “ i haven’t slept in four days… ”

133: “ your turn to do the dishes. ”

134: “ was i really that drunk? ”

135: “ was i really that stoned? ”

136: “give me back my phone! ”

137: “ you’re an asshole. ”

138: “ are you cold? ”

139: “ this place gives me the creeps. ”

140: “ i swear my house is haunted. ”

141: “ did you hear that? ”

142: “ it’s just your imagination. ”

143: “ just how stupid do you think i am? ”

144: “ stop being such a baby. ”

145: “ go back to bed. ”

146: “ are you okay? ”

147: “ i can take care of myself just fine.”

148: “ thanks for helping me back there. ”

149: “ since when have we ever been friends? ”

150: “ what on earth are you wearing? ”

151: “ i can’t feel my legs! ”

152: “ stop texting me weird stuff so late at night. ”

153: “ put me down! ”

154: “ there’s only one bed… ”

155: “ it isn’t what it looks like! okay.. maybe it is… ”

156: “ how did i lose it? ”

157: “ i read your diary. ”

158: “ this is awkward. ”

159: “ didn’t you read the sign? ”

160: “ do you think you can teach me that? ”

nsfw

161: “ bite me. ”

162: “ make me. ”

163: “ fuck me. ”

164: “ stop teasing me so much… ”

165: “ do you like it when i touch you like that?”

166: “ okay.. this is new. ”

167: “ want to head back to my place and have a little fun? ”

168: “ you’re in trouble now. ”

169: “ what a pretty sight. ”

170: “ bend over. ”

171: “ on your knees. ”

172: “ the food looks great but.. there’s something much more delicious i’d like to eat right now. ”

173: “ lay back. ”

174: “ take off your clothes. ”

175: “ well, fine; just this once. ”

176: “ i’m waiting. ”

177: “ you’re so beautiful. ”

178:“ as you wish. ”

179: “ first one to make a noise loses.”

180: “ you have no idea what you do to me. ”

181: “ if you’re bored; wanna have sex? ”

182: “ i've wanted this for so long. ”

183: “ car sex looks so much more easier in the movies. ”

184: “ can i touch you? ”

185: “ open up. ”

186: “ no strings attached. ”

187: “ already? do i really have that much of an effect on you? ”

188: “ mine. ”

189: “ the nights still young. ”

190: “ we can't do that here! ”

191: “ behave. ”

192:“ what did you just say? ”

193: “ good girl. ”

194: “ good boy. ”

195: “ come here. ”

continued nsfw from misc sources

196: “are you going to come here, or are you going to make me come get you myself?”

197: “don’t look at me like that, you brought this on yourself.”

198: “stay still, squirming will make it worse.”

199: “keep count. if you lose it, we’re starting over. understand?”

200: “go get me the cane.”

201: “take your shirt off and put your hands up against the wall.”

202: “open your mouth. i’m putting the gag in so your screaming won’t alarm someone.”

203: “did you disobey my orders?”

204: “i thought i told you not to touch that?”

205: “have you finished everything i told you to do?”

206: “if you don’t stop acting like this, i’ll be forced to use different tactics.”

207: “your skin turns so red under my palm.”

208: “bend over the back of the couch.”

209: “you might want to bite something, the whip has a bite to it.”

210: “come here and bend over my lap.”

211: “i’m tired of your smart mouth.”

212: “you’re really hot.”

213: “oh, don’t mind me. just enjoying the view.”

214: “you know, those/that ______ of yours are/is pretty distracting.”

215: “hot damn.”

216: “so, you come here often?”

217: “well, well. my night just got better.”

218: “is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

219: “you have got a great ass.”

220: “hey, i’m open minded.”

221: “you enjoying the view over there?”

222: “keep sweet-talking and this could go a whole new direction.”

223: “don’t be bashful. you know you want to.”

224: “you can have me any way you’d like, baby.”

225: “you wanna move this conversation someplace more private?”

226: “i’m off in a few minutes, you know.”

227:“it’s been a long day. why don’t we help each other unwind?”

228: “i think it’s about time we stop avoiding the obvious.”

229: “i’m gonna be honest with you. i’m really horny, and you’re really hot. can we fuck? like, now?”

230: “i wanna see you get naked.”

231: “you like how i bend over for you, huh?”

232: “you’re getting me all worked up.”

233: “what do we have here?”

234: "i see someone’s happy to see me.”

235: “play your cards right, and i just might have to put you on speed dial.”

236: “you like that, don’t you?”

237: “how do you want me?”

238: “i’m sure we can put those lips to better use.”

239: “i want you. right here. right now.”

240: “god, you’re perfect.”

241: “i really like a man who’s good with his hands.”

242: “i’d be more than happy to show you a good time, if you’re looking for one.”

243: “i saw that. you just checked me out.”

244: “you look real good in that suit/dress/skirt/outfit.”

245: “you wanna help me out of this ___?” (insert article clothing here.)

246: “can i keep you?”

247: “you’re such a tease.”

248: “oh my, looks like i/you dropped something.”

249: “i love it when you talk dirty.”

250: “i can’t stop thinking about your hands on me.”

251: “i think you’ll be happy to know that i’m not wearing any underwear.”

252: “i really want to take you home and get you out of all those clothes.”

253: “it’s like you want to ruin men/women for me.”

#urwarriorangelswritingchallenge

[onekisstotakewithme]

BJ/Hawkeye; buddy cop police tv show!

oooh this so exciting!

~

“Shermy baby!” comes a yell from across the bullpen, issuing from the mouth of a striking man in a Hawaiian shirt, who is currently waving a flask. BJ nearly jumps out of his skin, glancing at the captain to see his reaction. “Martini?”

“If it’s your hellbrew, Pierce, I’d rather not. I’m livin’ to a ripe old age and I want my liver to join me.”

“Your choice.” The man - Pierce - grins. “Your gain is also my gain.”

“Uh, Captain Potter… who is that?” BJ asks.

“Oh, didn’t I say? That’s our Detective Pierce. Your new partner.”

“You’re kidding,” BJ says, watching Pierce laugh into the phone as he picks it up. He’s not conventionally handsome, but he has a grin probably as intoxicating as his “hellbrew”. “He’s a cop?”

“And a damn good one too. Overworked, underpaid, and still one of the best I know. Though I’ll be damned if I can ever get him to wear his sidearm.”

“He doesn’t carry?” BJ asks, stunned. “Says he doesn’t like guns. I tried ordering him, but he’s a stubborn one.”

“No guns…He’s crazy,” BJ says, and then watches in awe as Pierce strides towards them.

“Let’s go,” he says to BJ. “We gotta case. And don’t worry Detective, around here, crazy is the norm.”

“Don’t give a fella much of a chance to unpack around here, huh Detective?” BJ comments.

Pierce grins, “Call me Hawkeye.”

#m*a*s*h #buddy cop AU #bj x hawkeye

[angryhausfrau-writes]

You Can’t Cross the Same River Twice - Chapter 7

Hawkeye's week at work is uneventful, routine. There are no unexpected patients or dire emergencies. Which Hawkeye is glad for, of course he is, what kind of person would he be to wish misfortune and disaster on others. But it does make the week move slowly. And give Hawkeye time to be excited and terrified and excited and terrified and excited over the prospect of seeing his dad again. For the first time in over three years.

But despite his conflicted emotions, Hawkeye gets on the train bright and early Saturday morning. Trapper's already at work, so there's no big send off. Not that he warrants one - he's not going off to war again or anything - it only feels like it. But Trapper had given him a peck on the lips and wished him good luck as he'd rushed out the door at whatever ungodly hour his shift started, so that's something. Fortification against the day to come. And when the cities and boardwalks give way to the rocky coastline of his home state, he feels a sense of rightness he didn't expect. He's lived outside of Maine for years now, but it is still recognizable. Hawkeye just hopes he is too.

--

His dad picks him up from the train station and they walk the few blocks to his childhood home together. Hawkeye imagines his shoes sinking deep into the footsteps he'd made over a decade of traversing Crabapple Cove as a kid. And maybe that's fitting. The path is worn, familiar. But his feet don't quite fit the imprints. Larger now than when he was a child, stride changed.

His family home is just as he remembered it, though. Practically unchanged since his mom died. And it's at once comforting and stifling. So Hawkeye drops his bag in the guest room - he can't even look at his childhood bedroom, let alone sleep there - and then heads out to the back porch. He sits and looks out across the ocean and the claustrophobia of memory recedes in the face of its vast expanse.

His dad joins him and they talk about work. The various patients they've had come through in the past month. The clinic's struggles with funding. How a patient had paid his dad with a lobster boat. It's easier than some of the other topics they could broach. Like why Hawkeye took so long to visit. They can stay in the present, away from any potential land mines left over from Korea. Not that there aren't other land mines in the conversation. His dad talks about all the people that've asked after him. All the young women looking to get to know him again. How there's a place for him in the practice. How his dad might be looking to retire in a few years and he needs someone to take over.

And Hawkeye feels like he's choking on all his unspoken truths. Wants to bolt. To go home to Trapper and curl up in his arms. Where it's safe. Where it's comfortable. Where it's easy.

But that feels like giving up. And he's already made it through so many things, he can make it through one more uncomfortable conversation. He owes his dad that much.

"Korea changed a lot of things for me, Dad. It changed me. I don't know that I can come back here and be who I was. Live the life I'd be expected to lead."

"I love you, Ben. However you are. And when you're ready to come home, there'll be a place for you here. Always."

His dad's trying. And Hawkeye knows he said all that out of love. But. It's not enough.

And maybe part of it is Hawkeye's fault. He'd always planned to come back home to Crabapple Cove and his dad and the practice. It was all mapped out for him since he was a kid. The stint in Boston was just him sowing his wild oats. Korea just an unfortunate detour in the greater direction of his life. He was just having some fun with the various men and women he'd slept with - just a little fun before he settled down with a wife and kids and a white picket fence. Married a girl he'd gone to high school with and whose family knew his family since they'd both landed on the coast of Maine. He'd just sand off some of his rough edges and put some parts of himself away and be happy. Normal.

Content, at least.

And he'd kept that dream alive all through Korea. In all the dozens and dozens of letters to his dad. Because it was a light at the end of the tunnel. Something to hope for and dream of that hadn't been touched or spoiled by the war. But he has been. And so he can no longer see himself in that fantasy.

He hadn't meant to lie to his dad. Or mislead him. It's just that he went sane. And all the things he'd already started to sand down or hide away were suddenly blindingly visible. And now that Hawkeye's seen them - seen how he was lying to himself about more than just the baby - he can't go back. Can't hide those parts of himself away in his subconscious just to make himself fit back in Crabapple Cove.

But Hawkeye doesn't know how to say all of this. So he just says, "I love you too, Dad." And they sit on the porch in silence, looking out at the ocean.

And when his dad suggests a trip into town, Hawkeye jumps at the chance. Maybe he'll run into every busybody and gossip in Crabapple Cove, but at least he can leave this uncomfortable tension. The half finished conversation that his dad is convinced is over.

It goes about how Hawkeye expected it would. It seems like word has spread and everyone and their grandmother is out and about on Main Street. Just happening to bump into Dr. Pierce and oh there was something they'd been meaning to ask and oh while they're there, why don't you tell us how you've been doing Ben and when are you coming back home? Your father's not getting any younger you know. And all the unmarried women flocking to him and saying remember when back in high school we and oh I'm so glad you're back from Korea and oh maybe we should get to know one another again. And his dad is no help, just standing there laughing to himself as Hawkeye gets mobbed. Objectively, he can see that it's funny - him being browbeat by old ladies and girls he's known since grade school. But Hawkeye feels like he's trapped in a school of piranha.

It's a relief when it hits dinner time and he can escape back to the house. That may be uncomfortable in its own way, but at least it's less crowded. And dinner's easier. Hawkeye and his dad laugh and joke like old times. He can almost forget the hanging threads of their previous conversation.

In the evening, he calls Trapper. Right after Hawkeye knows he'll be done with the dinner dishes. They keep the call short - out of consideration for his dad's phone bill - and only talk about light, inconsequential things - because this is Crabapple Cove and there's at least one nosy Nelly listening in on the call. But it's nice to hear Trapper's voice. To know that he has a home to go back to tomorrow, even if he doesn't have one here anymore. And while he ends the call with a simple "Goodnight, Trap," his dad must hear something of the warmth and love Hawkeye puts into those two words.

Because as soon as Hawkeye hangs up the phone, his dad says, "You're not coming back here, are you? You've found somewhere else to be."

Hawkeye nods tiredly. Already exhausted by the conversation to come.

His dad's face goes blank, impassive. And here comes the guilt and recrimination and anger. But instead of the first volley of an argument, he says, "I'm so sorry, Ben. I love you. And I never meant to push you into something you didn't want."

"I did want it, Dad. I wanted it so bad it hurt, all the time I was in Korea. But I realized that the person I'd have to become to make it work wasn't someone I could be. I've lost the innocence and. And the sense of peace I'd need to live here and not go crazy." Again. "I've got friends and work and a life in Boston that I can't. That I don't want to leave."

"This life include that Trapper John fellow, the one you live with?"

Hawkeye nods. His dad always was quick on the uptake.

"He came up for your funeral, you know. When the army declared you dead. I appreciated having him here." He pauses. "And I wouldn't mind if you brought him along next time."

Hawkeye smiles. His dad really is trying. And he can accept that olive branch. "He did talk about bringing his daughters up to visit back when I was still planning to live here."

His dad looks up sharply. "He married?"

"Used to be." Hawkeye's expression turns wry. "Korea changed him too."

"Well, it'd be nice to have some kids running around the place again. Even if it's not permanent."

A pause.

"And you'll have to tell me if you know anyone looking to take over a family practice who doesn't mind living all the way out here."

"Sure, Dad. I'll ask around."

A contemplative silence falls. And the kitchen, the house, the whole town is starting to feel a lot less stifling. Hawkeye thinks he might even be able to sleep easy tonight.

--

Hawkeye goes home the next day. But as his dad hugs him one last time at the train station - and admonishes him to call with details of his next visit - Hawkeye feels like he has a home in Maine too. And maybe he can't live here permanently, but he's still welcome. He doesn't have to lose any part of himself, doesn't have to contort himself to fit the mold of expectation.

It's still a relief to be back in Boston, though. Away from the busybodies and unwanted advances. Back with Trapper.

Home.

#mash #piercintyre #fanfic archive #you can't cross the same river twice #chapter 7

[aristocratlegacy]

Chapter 67- Healing Crystal Country

Chloe: “Hmm...fur coats?”

“...”

Chloe: “Out unless you’ve established it as your thing already. Summer hats off season? In once again.”

Vivien: “Hey, have you seen my black sweater with the weird collar?”

Chloe: ‘It’s over there.”

Vivien: “No...that’s not it. Hey, Chloe?”

Chloe: “Hm?”

Vivien: “What’s on your head? Are you exchanging floppy hats for weird sci-fi helmets?”

Chloe: “Wow, you really haven’t heard of Celestial Crown Cleansing yet?”

Vivien: “Of course I have! I’m plugged in! I just….wanted to know what you know about it.”

Chloe: “Well, depending on the different crystals you put in the emotional centrifuge, it stimulates the wrinkles in your brain so that you can think more clearly and experience life more purely.”

Vivien: :”I like to experience life pretty clearly, dear.”

Chloe: “I know! So just imagine what you’ll see when you’re Celestially Cleansed.”

Pierce: “You cannot believe what Izzy Fabulous said about Nancy Landgraab’s latest piece today at the gallery I-”

Pierce: “What’s ...goin on?”

Vivien: “We’re Celestial Crystal Crown Cleansing.”

Pierce: “Oh, I read about that, you know it’s just pseudoscience, right?” Vivien: “Whoever said that is lying and obviously hasn’t tried it. I’m experiencing life more clearly than ever.”

Chloe: “You ok, Hawkeye?”

Vivien: “Are you still sick?”

Pierce: “It’s just a headcold. I’m fine, and I definitely don’t need a helmet to tell me that if that was what you were about to suggest.”

Chloe: “Try the helmet! Seriously, I was nauseous all morning and then I put it on- now I just want watermelon and chocolate..”

Pierce: “Ew, no.”

Vivien: “Pierce! Did you borrow my black sweater without asking?”

Pierce: “Yes but don’t come in here!”

Vivien: “What? This is my room what are you talking ab- ooooh”

Pierce: “I just wanted to try it on.”

Vivien: “And?””

Pierce: “Aaaaand...my weird stomach thing is feeling a lot better, to be entirely honest.”

Vivien: “I knew we’d get you! Chloe! Chloe Look!”

Chloe: “ Ooooh my god.”

Vivien: “He said it’s helping his mysterious illness.”

Pierce: “Y’know, this is kinda...nice. Just the three of us.”

Chloe: “Totally! I feel like we’ve barely gotten to hang out lately!”

Vivien: “I know it feels like we haven’t hung out together or done anything in like....a year.”

Vivien: “Well, you did take off for a week. Where did you go anyways?”

Chloe: “Sulani! And then Windenberg.”

Vivien: “Wow, Dustin’s really treating you with that game dev money, huh?”

Chloe: “Yeah! Well, Dirk Dreamer actually took me to Sulani, then from there I went to Windenberg with Dustin”

Pierce: “Bit of a love triangle goin for ya then?”’

Chloe: “Sorta. I feel like maybe they’re just trying to one up eachother through me, but if it means I get a bunch of vacations out of it, then i don’t really mind. “

Pierce: “So you’re gold digging Glamma Opal would be so proud.”

Chloe: “No! I like them, Dirk actually just said that he could potentially see the possibility of maybe saying I love you at some point.”

Pierce: “Sweetie. Please don’t say that out loud to anybody else, I love you, but please. Do this for me.”

Vivien: “I got for realsies recognized on the street today for The Cute and the Confident. It’s really happening, guys.”

Chloe: “Aww, Vivi! I’m so proud of you!”

Vivien: “Right? I mean...I would enjoy it more if Veronica wasn’t there all the time, but I’ll live, I guess.”

Pierce: “You wouldn’t think there would be such an immediate need for a stunt double on a soap opera.”

Vivien: “That’s just it- at first she was just there for one scene but then they decided to make her my secret twin.”

Chloe: “Ewwww, did you tell them that you used to date?”

Vivien: “Yeah. They thought it was weird and made fun of us both a little bit, but said they were going with it anyway. They’re gonna do a bunch of mayhem where I pretend to be her and vice versa. It’s ridiculous- I mean, we don’t look that much alike.”

Chloe: “Ehh...you do, though.”

Vivien: “Pierce….”

Pierce: “Hmm?”

Vivien: “Your stomach is glowing.”

Pierce: “Fuck, not again.”

Chloe: “Oh my god, the Celestial Cleanse obviously isn’t enough, you need to go to the doctor!”

Pierce: “No!”

Vivien: “Why not?”

Pierce: “Because I keep getting these crazy fever dreams and I feel like I’m this close to my  artistic breakthrough.”

Vivien: “Seriously? What if you, like, die?”

Pierce: “Then they’ll say that I died for my Art- I’m not seeing the downside here, Vivien.”

Vivien: “You’re so weird. I have to go to work- two more days, man, and I’ll teleport you to the doctors myself.”

Chloe: “Ohhh nooo, we’re going to the Bailey party in two days!”

Vivien: “Ohmygod, you’re so right. I wouldn’t make you miss that, Pierce. Three days.”

Pierce: “Ew. Fine, I guess that my muse has a deadline. I’ll see you before the Bailey party, I’m locking myself in my room!”

Vivien: “It’s almost three, I gotta get to set. I’m about to go adopt a baby that my twin stole from my ex husband.”

Chloe: “Good luck cutie! Steal the baby really good!”

*Knock Knock*

Chloe: “Hey Wallace!”

Walter: “It’s Walter. Remember? You...called me Radar, because of MASH- I think?”

Chloe: “Yes! You’re the one my sister has a crush on, what’s up?”

Walter: “Did...she say that?”

Chloe: “Aww! You guys are so cute! Boop!” Walter: “You...booped my nose.” Chloe: “I sure did! And I’m gonna do it again! Boop!”

Walter: “Ooo-kay. Uh- is Vivien here?”

Chloe: “Awww!”

Walter: “Okay.”

Chloe: “Cuties!!”

*default ringtone*

Walter: “Oh, I gotta take this. I’ll talk to you later, just tell her I stopped by.”

Chloe: “Who still has a ringtone? Just put it on vibrate, man.”

Walter: “No, I like it that way- no, not you mom. Bye Chloe. No- not bye Mom!”

Director: “Vivi, Roni, I need to talk to you.”

Director: “Listen, goils, I love ya. I do- but you need to stop playin’ the goils on the show so...ah…”

Vivien: “Devastatingly real?”

Veronica: “So deep it would make the ocean jealous?”

Director: “Horny.”

Vivien: “Excuse me?”

Director: “Ya’r evil twins and ya’r always flirtin’! I know ya haive a history but I don’t think this is workin.”

Vivien: “What? I worked my ass off to be here! I earned this job, she is a snake that came in and stole my life! Like some sort of...evil clone! Damnit!”

Director: “See, Vivi, I love that enagy from ya. But ya can neva seem to chanel that at har!”

Vivien: “Ridiculous. Of course I can.”

Vivien: “How dare you try to take this from me. You have not worked a day in your life to become what I am and what I am is flawless, so you can look at me with those big, beautiful brown eyes and that...quivering pouty lip, but you won’t get me off, hot stuff, no ma’am. You can come at me hard with everything you’ve got and I’ll take it because I never step down from a challenge.”

Director: “...”

Director: “So you see the problem, then, right?”

Vivien: “Yup. That’s on me, I see it now.”

Director: “Loik, it’s not a big deal. We’ll just fiyah one of ya.”

Veronica: “Wait, what? I didn’t do anything! I’ve been completely professional!”

Director: “I literally had to crop every shot you were in to just ya face beecause ya chest was heavin so much.”

Vivien: “So...who are you going to fire?”

Director: “I haven’t decided yet. We have a couple episode til they have tah give the baby back, and one of ya will die and take the othas place. Who it is, remains to be seen. Now’s the time to impress me, ladies!”

----------

Vivien: “Okay guys, We are at a defcon 10, do you hear me, this is serious. We need a plan, I need a big publicity boost so I don’t let go from my show. Aristocrat showdown, all three of us, we’re gonna go to the Bailey party, cause a big scene, end up in all the tabloids!”

Pierce: “Guys- can you do this out in the hall? I’m not feeling very well and you’re talking, like, so loud.”

Chloe: “Damn, Pierce-y, are you ok?”

Vivien: “You look like a monster.”

Pierce: “Thanks, Vivi. You look great too. You’re wig is on backwards.”

Vivien: “It is? Shit. Did I fix it”

Chloe: “Ew, why do you still wear those? It’s bad enough that you named them all and hang them up on our wall like roadkill trophies.”

Vivien: “Leave Samantha, Veronica, and La Fontaine out of this!”

Chloe: “What happened to Esteban?”

Vivien: “Bad blowout...it’s a bitter situation.”

Pierce: “What happened to you two talking out in the hallway?

Chloe: “Why do you have to sabotage everything I do?”

Pierce: “I wish you two had never been born.”

Vivien: “This is the Bailey Party! We’ve been waiting for this all year! Why do you two all of a sudden not care?”

Chloe: “I’m just...not up for a huge party, Vivi. I’ve been feeling weird all week, and obviously Pierce isn’t up to it..”

Pierce: “What’s obvious about it, Chloe?”

Chloe: “You’ve been glowing and rolling on the floor all afternoon, Pierce, obviously you should see a doctor.”

Pierce: “That is so rude. Fine. I’ll go to the party with you, Vivi, no need to twist my arm.”

Chloe: “What?!”

Vivien: “Come on Chloe!”

Chloe: “No, I’m way too tired tonight. Have fun- Pierce, maybe like...write my phone number on your forehead in case you pass out and go to the hospital.”

Pierce: “I’ll put it on my wrist.”

Chloe: “Have fun you two.”

----

Pierce: “So what exactly is the plan here?”

Vivien: “We’re going to go out, greet as many of our connections as we can-”

Pierce: “Do we...have that many connections?”

Vivien: “Duh. Everybody watches my show, they’ll recognize me. It’s on every single day. So, go in there, find all of the people we know, and convince them to go to our afterparty at the bluffs.”

Pierce: “All the way to the bluffs? Why?”

Vivien: “Because of the atmosphere! And I know that somebody else is throwing a party there tonight and it’ll all be set up and we can form a coup pretty easily.”

Pierce: “Why can’t we just stage a coup at this party.”

Vivien: “How dare you, Pierce. Would you try to take a party away from Jay Gatsby?”

Pierce: “Gatsby? I thought this was the Bailey party, who’s Gatsby?”

Vivien: “Remember? Leonardo Dicaprio.”

---

Chloe: “Hmm...I mean...I’m probably not, like...hmmm….”

----

Vivien: “Hey!”

DJ: “Vivien!?”

Vivien: “I knew you’d remember me! You Dj’d a party I was at a few weeks ago! I tend to stand out in the crowd!”

Dj Fliphop: “You definitely do.”

*Default ring tone*

Dj: “Oh, I should answer that.”

Vivien: “Who still has a ringtone these days. Just put it on vibrate.”

*bzzz*

Vivien: “Like that! My phone is on vibrate like a normal person!”

Pierce: “Uughh. Vivi, I wanna go home.”

Vivien: “We can’t! DJ Flip- that’s what I call him, because we’re friends- is coming back in just a second- he’s a fan!”

Pierce: Hmm...no. You know what- I do not think I’m alright.” *Thump*

Vivien: “Ahh!”

Dj: “Vivien? Ok, it’s gonna be fine, I’ll get Pierce out of here, you call the doctor.”

Pierce: “What….electric man...what do you want from me…?”

Vivien: “Thanks, we’re just gonna be outside.”

Vivien: “Hey, uh...how… did you know my brothers name, Flip?”

Dj: “Uh...becaauuuse...I’m a fan! I love you on the cute and the confident. And I love the Aristocrat story, y’know, classic tabloid stuff, heh.”

Vivien: “Right. I should call my sister.”

---

Chloe: “...ok...ok…ok….I can do this. I can handle this. This is fine. This will be fine.”

*phone vibrates*

Chloe: “Hello? Vivi, where have  you been I’ve been trying to call you all night!”

Vivien: “What? Oh, it was on vibrate I guess I just didn’t notice.”

“Unbelievable.”

Chloe: “Who was that? Was that a robot?”

Vivien: “Yes. It’s not important- Pierce is in the hospital, can you meet us here?”

--

Chloe: “Oh my god, is Pierce okay?”

Vivien: “I don’t know yet!”

Chloe: “Hi. What...are you doing here?”

Vivien: “DJ Fliphopi got Pierce out of there and gave me a ride. He won’t take off his helmet though, apparently he’s quite the fan.”

Chloe: “Can, um, can I talk to you, Vivi? Alone?”

Dj: “Yeah, I, uh...I’ll just be over here.”

Vivien: “What’s up?”

Chloe: “I think I’m pregnant.”

Vivien: “What? Holy shit.”

Chloe: “Yeah.”

Vivien: “Who’s the father?”

Chloe: “Uh.”

Vivien: “You don’t know?”

Chloe: “No!”

Vivien: “Okay, uh, one thing at a time, okay?”

Chloe: “Yeah...yeah.”

Doctor: “Excuse me, Aristocrats? You can go in now.”

Pierce: “Hey, guys…”

Vivien: “Okay, I gotta say...I didn’t see that one coming.”

Chloe: “Eh...I kinda did.”

Pierce: “I would’ve appreciated a warning.”

Vivien: “It’s...kinda cute.”

Pierce: “Sorta.”

Chloe: “Can I...hold them?”

Pierce: “Please, it’s so weird.”

Chloe: “Hey there, what’s your name?”

Pierce: “Oh god, I should name it, right?”

Vivien: “I mean, it’s your baby, Pierce.”

Pierce: “That seems like kind of a stretch.”

Vivien: “So do we just like...have this baby we’re gonna take care of now? I don’t think I can live in an apartment with two babies, you guys, there’s not enough rooms.”

Chloe: “Vivien!”

Pierce: “Wait two babies? There’s another one? Where did they put it?!”

Chloe: “No! I mean...kinda. I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant.”

Vivien: “RIght, sorry, I didn’t mean to spill the beans on your mama mia situation.’

Pierce: “So...can you take care of it, Chloe?”

Vivien: “Pierce!”

Pierce: “Unless...I mean...we could always...have a little gallery opening....show some other art and…”

Chloe: “Are you really thinking about putting your baby in an art show?”

Pierce: “I don’t know! I don’t really want a baby, I’m way too young for this.”

Vivien: “You’re like 35.”

Pierce: “I’m basically 22, okay?”

Chloe: “So what does that mean?”

Pierce: “I dunno...I could just like...drop it off at mom and dad’s house. They usually seem pretty on top of this stuff. ”

Chloe: “Oh. yeah.”

Vivien: “That sounds like a pretty good idea.”

Pierce: “Yeah, they seem lonely since we moved out.”

Chloe: “That’ll be fun for them. Like a present.”

---

*ding dong*

Lucky: “Hey kids! I wasn’t expecting you today, come in!!”

Pierce: “Weeeelll...I have a present for you! Here!”

Lucky: “.......Who’s baby is this?”

Pierce: “Uhh…”

Chloe: “Maybe we should reevaluate...how important...knowing the parent of a baby...is.”

Vivien: “You wanna know who’s baby this is, Mom? It’s yours!”

Lucky: “Um, ok, I guess we can take care of this little cutie...do they have a name?”

Pierce: “Nope! We thought that you’d want to!”

Lucky: “Are they an alien? Hey cutie...Hello….Roswell.”

Chloe: “Alien baby? Ghost mom! It’s a perfect match!

Vivien: “We’re gonna take off, stuff to do, soap operas to film. Love you guys!!”

Chloe: “You three have fun together!”

Pierce: “You’re welcome! Byeeeee, love you! ”

Thanks for reading! This chapter could also be called “How can I keep that alien baby and still make Chloe the heir since she won the poll” I’m sure Pierce will come around and do the right thing lol. Funny story about that- I complained on the official ea forum that I hadn’t gotten an alien abduction in a really really long time, in the next update they increased the likelihood, Pierce immediately gets abducted and gets pregnant, and I have to figure out how to deal with it. I love it. Anyway, leave a comment if you liked it!

[paybackraid]

Hero of Ishval

HEY GUESS WHAT I FINALLY DID!! Remember that Ishvalan!Elric AU teaser I wrote a while back for FMA AU Week? Well, I finally got around to posting the first chapter!! I’d appreciate if y’all could read and reblog, or go to my FFN or AO3 pages and review!

Summary: There are many reasons that Roy Mustang is known as the Hero of Ishval. But the very first reason is one that most people in the military don’t even know about. Ishvalan!Elric AU. Big Brother Roy. 

Words: 3004

Warnings: War themes, strong language

The men came into the district, all with not-red eyes and not-white hair but not without an intent to kill.

“No!” screamed a boy, standing before his mother and little brother because there was no father to protect them, not anymore, and the boy refused to listen to his mother when she said to get back. “Stay away! You dirty Amestrians don’t belong here, go back to your cities! Leave Mom alone!”

“Oh?” said the man with the long hair and the grey eyes. “Little Ishvalan scum has a little life to him, does he?”

“Don’t call me little!” said the boy with fire in his eyes.

“I wonder… how quickly can we drain the life from you? You’re coming with me!”

The little Ishvalan boy was dragged away from his mother’s arms like a common criminal, dragged kicking and screaming through the district, and loaded onto a truck.

None of the Ishvalans could stop the man who made explosions from his palms, most were too frightened to try. The only one who did, the mother, quickly had a gun pointed to her forehead and had to be held back by her fellow countrymen. The truck drove off, a child still calling for his mother from the back while his mother cried for him.

“ZEDEKIAH!!!”

Chapter 1

When Roy Mustang was 18, and he joined the Military Academy, his naivety had him dreaming glorious dreams about going to war. Yes, people died he knew, but they died with honor, fighting for their people and their country. He had never really dreamed of becoming a war hero (although some nights the thought would flash through his mind for a fraction of a moment), but he dreamed of going to war and returning alive.

His foolish self, of course, had never experienced the true horror of war, all the blood and death. He had been surrounded by war all his life—the military was in at least one almost every day of the year for the past fifty years. It was something that most everyone was a part of in one way or another, and the military was the biggest employer in all of Amestris, so imagining himself in the military wasn’t so odd or unnatural. There wasn’t one boy or girl that he knew of that didn’t imagine that in one way or another, they would be part of a war.

Even imagining being in the military, his thoughts could never come close to the real thing.

Death was in the air, death and dying, at all hours. He feared his enemies, he feared his comrades.

He feared himself.

This was why Master Hawkeye hadn’t wanted to share the secret of flame alchemy with him. Somehow, Master Hawkeye had known the ruin that Roy would bring with a snap of his fingers.

“Yo! Mustang! Move your ass!”

Roy kicked at the desert sand beneath his feet, heat bearing down on his neck relentlessly. He looked toward the voice—Hughes was hailing him forward. It was mealtime, they were just returned from a mission in one of the southern districts, and even though he was damn hungry, he didn’t even want to think of eating.

“What do you want, Hughes?”

Hughes, Roy’s academy buddy and longtime rival, jerked his head toward the wash station. Roy rolled his eyes, assuming a new batch of nurses or some such nonsense had come in. Hughes was happily taken, but he never hesitated to attempt to set up Roy, or one of the others in their squad. The man made sport out of watching them fail, Roy was sure of it.

Still. Hughes was obnoxious when someone paid him attention, but worse when they ignored him. He walked slowly to the man, glancing at whatever had caught Hughes’ attention.

A crowd of men surrounded one of the flagpoles, all of them jeering and laughing. Roy sneered at them; that was rarely anything good.

“What do you think they got ahold of, a nice t-bone?” Hughes wondered loftily, turning to Roy.

“I don’t know, man, I was on the same mission as you. Come on. If they’re all busy with this, I bet the line’s clear and we get first pick.”

Hughes grinned and laughed, hooked an arm around Roy, and lead him toward the mess.

Roy and Hughes beat a hasty retreat when the mess started filling. Most of the men had appeared to grow bored of whatever had kept their attention, and now wanted to appease their angry stomachs. Hughes carried a napkin full of what could best be called dry gruel. It was the sort of junk you could only stomach a little at a time; Roy hadn’t been able to finish his, and it got too crowded for Hughes to finish. They chatted as they walked—well, Hughes chatted, while Roy walked alongside and listened halfheartedly.

Roy glanced back to the flagpole as they walked past, the same place all those men had been crowding around earlier. A few remained, but most had disappeared into the mess. Somewhere near the ground there was a red swatch of fabric and a little foot, but Roy couldn’t make much out of that. Some of the guys made a habit of bullying some of the younger ones. Maybe they had got ahold of some poor bastard who made some small mistake. It wouldn’t be the first time.

There were some quick words from the crowd, words that he didn’t recognize and when he glanced at Hughes, he found that he hadn’t either. He knew some of the others spoke Aerugan, Cretan, or even the occasional Drachman—since they were surrounded on all sides by these great nations, it made sense for someone on their side to speak it.  It was possible that it was one of those who spoke foreign tongue being tormented, but Roy doubted it. Some of those words sounded sort of like Xingese.

Then, a loud call, a sharp cry, and a child’s voice: “No, No!! Mama!!”

Beside him, Hughes stiffened, his eyes narrowing, and Roy felt a shudder pass through him. What was a child doing here? No one in their right mind would sneak their child into the middle of an active warzone. The only other possibility was—

Yes, they realized as they approached. A little, Ishvalan child. No more than six.

It was a boy, very small. He had shaggy white hair and piercing red eyes, skin darker than the sand around them. He was covered in a red shawl, and wore no shoes on his little feet. His eyes darted all over the place, looking for an escape, but Roy quickly realized that the poor child had been bound to the flagpole.

What the hell was he doing here?

“Awww, what’s the matter, you baby? Are you gonna cryyyy for your mooommmyyyyy? Go ahead, see if she can hear you.”

Oh, and of course, why was Roy not surprised? Solf J. Kimblee, the truest psychopath in the entire military, was leading the show.

The kid blinked his eyes hard and sniffed hugely, swallowing back any tears that were left. He looked like he was trying damn hard not to cry—like he was trying to be stronger than Kimblee, stronger than what was happening.

“Kimblee,” Roy said, grabbing the Crimson Alchemist’s shoulder and tearing him from his victim. “Leave him alone, he’s just a kid.”

Kimblee tore his shoulder from Roy’s hand, glaring at him. “What do you want, sand-fucker? You’re apart of this war too, what’s one brat to you?” Kimblee scuffed his boot into the sand, kicking some up right into the kid’s face. The boy squeezed his eyes shut in a vain attempt to stop the sand from getting into his eyes, grimacing and turning away.

Roy scoffed, but didn’t otherwise react to the insult. He’d been called it before, and it had stopped affecting him. It first started in the military academy, when he’d been surrounded by people hardly out of high school (if they had even gone) who were still practically children. He came to the aide of his now-friend Heathcliff Erbe, and from then on, became known as a sand-fucker—an Ishvalan sympathizer.

If the opposite of being a ‘sand-fucker’, was being Kimblee, then he didn’t mind being a sand-fucker at all.

“Where did you get the kid? He doesn’t belong here.”

“Plucked the brat fresh from his mommy’s arms. He had a couple things to say, and I wanted to, uh…” Kimblee laughed, “teach him about his betters.”

“His betters? Who do you think—”

“Mustang! Kimblee!”

Roy flinched and glanced over his shoulder to see a general approaching looking unamused. Roy and Hughes snapped into a salute, and with a little reluctance, Kimblee did too. General Raven inspected the boy bound to the flagpole, then ignored him and turned on the two soldiers. “What are you doing, lollygagging?  If you’ve got time to start arguments, you’ve got time to clear the ten o’clockers for a lunch break. March! Both of you!”

Mustang scowled inwardly but kept his face impressively blank. Seven o’clock guard. Was there anything less interesting? He glanced down to the kid, who glared all around at everyone he could see, offering no warmth or anything. Roy smirked to himself just a little. He was quite the kid. “Yes, sir.”

Once night rolled around, the entire camp fell into almost total silence. The only ones still awake and about were the night guards, who only watched the perimeter and had no care for the happenings inside its borders, and the boy, who was silent with his tormentors no longer about.

It was this fact alone that allowed Roy to sneak out of his tent at half past pain-in-the-ass o’clock, canteen around his neck and napkin of not-so-goodies in hand. His tent wasn’t far from the flagpole, so it only took ten silent seconds to creep across the camp to the little boy.

He couldn’t, in his heart, leave this boy to his fate. He knew that no one had fed the poor thing, or even let him off to relieve himself, and no one had tried to shade him from the unrelenting desert sun. If he wasn’t sunstroked when Roy got to him, he would be surprised.

“Kid. Hey… kid, wake up,” Roy said under his breath, crouching beside the boy. The kid’s neck was craned awkwardly forward, like he had fallen asleep like that. He had reason to suspect that the kid wasn’t asleep at all, but he didn’t want to startle him.

Indeed, the kid quickly shot his head up, eyes bleary. He pressed back against the flagpole and glared at him weakly. “Go away.”

Roy chuckled a little and sat beside him, crossing his legs to try and appear as friendly as possible. The poor kid had had enough fright in this place. “You won’t say that when you see what I’ve got for you.”

That piqued the kid’s interest for a moment, nervous curiosity flooding into those crimson depths. He flickered his eyes from the ground up to Roy, lowered his head to his toes, then hesitantly wondered, “...what?”

“Shh, you have to stay quiet. We could both get in trouble if we’re not careful. Are you hungry?”

The boy nodded blearily, and Roy knew with the flush in his cheeks that this was true. He was probably starving. He didn’t know when the kid had been collected, but it was probably at least since then when he last ate.

Roy set the napkin down in front of the kid, revealing its contents. It wasn’t the best stuff, and if he had better he’d give it to him, but it really was all he had for today, and he couldn’t go stealing rations, not just for a little kid. “Here. Open your mouth.”

“Do…” The kid coughed and opened his mouth, licking his dry lips. “D’you have any water…? Please…”

“They… haven’t even given you water? All day?”

“No…” the boy croaked. “You have some, right?”

Roy’s heart constricted for a moment, then he sighed and stooped his head, grabbing for the strap of his canteen. “Yeah. I have some. Move your head away from the pole.”

The boy did, so Roy unscrewed the canteen and cupped his head. He pressed the canteen to his lips and tilted back. Water spilled from the corners of his lips, but he didn’t seem to mind, drinking greedily. When the canteen was pulled away, he licked at the water on his face.

“Ready for food?”

“Yeah.” The boy opened his mouth as he had asked earlier, and Roy patiently fed him everything that Hughes, bless his soul, had saved.

The night passed on in silence while Roy stayed by the boy’s side. He noticed halfway through what barely constituted a meal that the kid was shivering mightily. The kid must have been freezing cold after he spent all day burning to a crisp in the sun, and then hastily being introduced to the chill of the night air. Whatever skin was burnt, which had to be everything exposed, had to be horribly irritated.

“Are you cold?”

The boy shivered again, and through the shiver Roy noticed a very small nod. Yeah, the poor kid had to be freezing.

He slowly unbuttoned his jacket and slid it off his shoulders, pulling it around to lay over the boy. His little naked toes stuck out of the bottom, but he wiggled around a little and crossed his legs beneath the fabric, covering his chilled toes.

“...Thank you,” he said. His voice sounded better now that he got some water in him, at least. More like a kid and less like a decrepit old person.

Roy shrugged awkwardly; he had never been good at taking thanks and he doubted that he ever would be. “Sure,” he said, finding his feet. The kid was taken care of, at least, and Roy couldn’t do anything more for him without running the risk of getting in trouble. He could check on him again in the morning.

“W—wait!” the boy cried when Roy stood, looking up at him with nervous red eyes. When Roy looked back, he looked down to his feet, as if he was ashamed of his outburst.

“...What?”

“Don’t…” The kid struggled with his reservations for a moment, kicking at the fabric of the coat. “Don’t go.”

Roy stood by, blinked once, twice, three times. He didn’t know… what to say. An Ishvalan kid asking an Amestrian soldier to stay by him? He supposed that he had only been mistreated since he had arrived, and Roy was probably the first friendly face he’d seen all day.

But he didn't really have much of a choice. He was already pushing it, being out here past night bell without direct orders. He couldn’t stay out here much longer without facing possible consequences.

He opened his mouth to respond truthfully—I have to, I can’t stay, go to sleep, you’ll be fine—just in time for the child to whisper, “please, please don’t go.  Please don’t leave me alone. The other soldiers, they’ll come back, they don’t like me. They… they hurt me and spit on me, and what if they come back and do it again? Please…”

Roy felt each separate word like a slap to the face, and looking to his face, desperate and frightened but willing to trust him, might as well have been a sucker punch. Roy had always been a sucker for the underdog, a sucker for kids like this one. He was no good with them—being raised in a brothel didn’t help matters, especially since when he did go to school, he stuck out like a sore thumb because of his slanted eyes and his upbringing, and it set him very far from kids his own age—but that didn’t stop him from sympathizing with them, from wanting to protect them and from never wanting to see the exact face this little boy was making…

He cursed to himself, quietly enough the child didn’t hear. His mind was made up before he was even aware of it. And screw anyone who said even a word of it in the morning.

He turned back to his tent without a word to the boy. If he was going to be sitting outside all night long, he might as well make himself comfortable, make it more bearable.

He collected his sleepsack and pillow, ignored the grunt of confusion from one of the bunks on the other side of the tent, and stepped back outside. He ignored all thoughts of foreboding and instead looked to the child, who looked even more defeated than before. Perhaps a word in before he left would have been good…

Oh well. Perhaps next time. It was too late now. He approached the boy who stared down at his toes, still cloaked in Roy’s blue jacket, and scuffed a little sand by him so he knew he was there.

The boy started and looking up to him, clearly expecting some sort of reprimand judging by the fright filling his eyes. The fear in them dulled and surprise flitted in when he recognized Roy again and saw the sack in his arms. He didn’t say a word when Roy turned and sat beside the boy, leaning as much of his shoulder into the pole as he dared, and he didn’t say a word when Roy shook out his sleep sack and laid it over both their laps, nor when he fitted his pillow behind him against the pole to act as a cushion.

In fact, he didn’t even say a word when Roy put his arm around the kid and told him, “go on to sleep, kid” and then leaned his head back like he would fall asleep right then.

The only other movement, then, that passed between them was when the boy, oh so cautiously, leaned his head into his companion’s side, and when Roy couldn’t fight back the smile in response.

#creative aces #fma #fmafanfic #roy mustang #yes zedekiah is ed #ishvalan elric au #my writing #tw war themes #tw language #this is gonna be about sixteen chapters if everything works out right #my second chapter isnt written yet but its planned #im moving this week so idk how soon ill be able to update #before thanksgiving is my goal #please reblog #hope you like it #lmk if the links dont work i hate tumblr

[mama-ghostie-61542]

THC-Homecoming   Ch.1

Rated M for Mature

If ya recognize it, it ain’t mine.

Chapter One-

           Hamato Yoshi refused to tell his sons why they were staying in a lair they moved away from almost 15 years ago for just one night. Not one of the boys remembered exactly where they lived when their big sister, Marlowe, left for the Marine Corps.

           Splinter sat in the dojo, barely meditating, waiting for his daughter to call his shell cell. At 4a.m., said apparatus vibrated against his leg.

           “Marlowe,” he whispered into the phone.

           “Pop, let me in,” she smiled and then hung up, knowing her father would check to be sure she was alone.

           He stepped lighter than his 50 plus years let on. He opened the door and saw his human daughter, whom he had adopted when she was 10.  

           Flashback

           A 30 year old Yoshi had just moved to NYC and had started to rebuild his life when he found a tiny little girl shivering in the pile of trash around the dumpster in the alley by his dojo.

           “Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you,” he whispered as the girl sunk back into the refuse. “My name is Yoshi. What’s yours?”

           Her black eyes were terrified and her dark hair was matted. She shook her head and whispered, “I don’t remember anymore. Sir only called me burden.”

           “Would you like to come with me? Warm, safe bed, hot food, warm baths and clothes, school, and attention whenever you want it.”

           “Mister Yoshi, you had me at warm and safe. But don’t come too close. I have bugs,” she sighed as she itched the back of her head.

           “We will need to cut these mats off anyway, so we can deal with them then.”

           The Lady who ran the apothecary two doors down gave him some gel to apply after he cut her hair and advised him to burn their clothes and her matted hair. She, then, gave Yoshi some tea tree shampoo and said to wash their hair with it to prevent infestation. Next, she gave him a few outfits her own granddaughter had outgrown.

           After they had her all cleaned up and bug free, he noticed the coppery hue to her skin and wondered which American Indian Nation she belonged to. Research would prove her to be Lakota.

           As the winter wore on, Marlowe Jean, as she was now named, became a fixture at the dojo, learning everything he could teach her; both about ninjitsu and the years of catching up to get her ready for school in the fall.

           Marlowe always rode the bus to the dojo after school and waited on her ‘Pop’, more often than not, she did homework, trained or did small chores for extra money in her allowance. Then, they would return to Yoshi’s apartment together and fix supper. Next, was doing and/or finishing her homework and bed.

           It was late fall when they were coming home and saw that their building was on fire. Yoshi quickly grabbed Marlowe’s hand and they immediately went back to the dojo.

           When they got inside, Yoshi started muttering and mumbling about being followed.

           “Pop,” Marlowe stated calmly.

           Yoshi didn’t answer; he just kept mumbling and pulling at his hair.

           “DAD,” the diminutive girl yelled.

           Yoshi nearly jumped out of his skin. Turning quickly, he saw the fear on his daughters face. He grabbed her up in a large hug and whispered, “We’re safe. We are safe.”

           “Safe from what, Pop?”    

           Yoshi then told her about his past.            

           Marlowe cried, her heart breaking for Tang Shen and Miwa, for the mother and little sister she would never get to meet and for the heartache so apparent on her dad’s face.  

           Six months later the dojo was destroyed. They hadn’t found a new apartment yet, so they went the one place Yoshi was sure they could disappear; the sewers.

           Two months after they moved to the sewers, while Yoshi was out doing the shopping, he saw a bowl with four tiny baby turtles in it and asked what the shopkeeper was going to do with them. Yoshi paled when he was informed they were destined for soup. On his way out the door, Yoshi palmed the four small beings.

Once he was outside and away, he placed them in his jacket pocket and whispered to the squirming creatures, “Hold on, little ones; we are going home.”

It was on his return trip to their new home that Yoshi tripped over a rat and fell into the glowing ooze. All 5 of them were covered in the stuff. Yoshi had Marlowe go and get Father Peter Corelli, who had that distinct NYC Italian accent ((Think Stallone)), a HUGE heart ((Think Father Mulcahy)), and a supreme dislike of war in ANY form ((Think DeForrest Kelley’s Bones melded with Hawkeye Pierce and you are close)). When she reached the church, Marlowe ran inside, yelling for Father Corelli, or Uncle Pete, as she called him. 

Peter Corelli had never heard his goddaughter yell like that and it sent a shiver down his backbone; the same way the sound of choppers did in ‘Nam. He took off running from his office to the vestibule, where Marlowe was on her knees. “Lowe, what’s wrong,” he said as he scooped her into his arms.

“It’s Pop. He fell into some goo and now he’s glowing and, and,” she trailed off as tears spilled down her cheeks.

Cupping her face in both hands, he calmly said, “Let me grab my kit. I want you to take me to him, okay,” he said as he hurried back to his office to pick up his old medic kit that he kept put together to treat the homeless in the city. Having been a field medic in the Marine Corps in Vietnam, he knew how to do field work. And, he had kept up on his First Responder’s license, just in case. His short stint at a battalion aid station made him realize just how severe the situation was. Father Corelli had met Splinter when he came to the dojo asking if Yoshi could help him with the holes in his training.

“Marlowe,” he said as he hugged her again upon reaching the vestibule where he left her. “Come on.”

When they got to the manhole, he looked at her funny.

“You remember the dojo was destroyed? We had to hide. Safest place is here.”

He nodded and started to help her pull the cover off and climb down.

“How did it happen, Lowe,” he asked.

“Pop said he tripped over a rat and fell into a green, gooey puddle. He had four baby turtles in his pocket at the time, and was carrying our groceries. He looked like he was in pain and was changing when I left,”

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of a six foot tall talking rat. The Italian-American Vietnam veteran turned Catholic Priest was shocked to see what had happened to his best friend. “Splints, what the hell!? What?! How!?”

           Splinter was on his knees on the floor, in obvious pain. Panting, he replied, “Marlowe.”

           “She told me ya fell and you was changing. She didn’t say a word about changing into a huge rat. Here, let me,” he started before being cut off by Splinter.

           “NO! No, not unless you are covered and can’t get any of this on you. I could never forgive myself if you got hurt.”

           Corelli sighed. “Hey,” he perked up, his mind obviously working. “Marlowe, I have some heavy gloves and a hazmat suit in my kit. Get them out. There are some heavy kitchen gloves in there too, so you can start washing the turtles,” he said as she handed him the suit. Once he had it on, he whispered, “Come on, Splints; let’s get you cleaned up.”

Yoshi refused to allow Marlowe to help clean the turtles up. To his amazement, all four were boys. Yoshi estimated the boys to be from a spring clutch, making them about three months old. While this was going on, Corelli took Marlowe and went up to the local big box store, with his bank card, to pick up the required items to raise 4 three month olds.

When they returned, it took six trips to get everything into their home. The rest of the day was spent helping to arrange the new baby things.  

Marlowe helped to name the boys. Yoshi picked their first names, Tang Shen’s four favorite Renaissance artists; while Marlowe picked out middle names. Corelli offered to return the next day and baptize the boys. Yoshi readily accepted the offer.

It took a little bit of research but Marlowe picked a perfect name for each one. The oldest was named Leonardo Elden, which meant defender. Raphael became Raphael Mato; ‘Mato’ meaning Bear in Lakota as he was a grumpy little bear when he woke up. Donatello soon gained the middle name of ‘Na’at’, which is Yucatec Maya for intelligent as he was the first to start trying to roll around. Michelangelo was the hardest to name, however. In the end, though, he was named Michelangelo Ki’imak; which meant happy in the same language as Donnie’s. Mikey was always smiling and happy.

Father Corelli returned the next day and blessed all four boys. Leonardo slept right through it. Raphael peed on him, while Donatello studied him. Michelangelo giggled and squirmed.

Time moved on as it is wont to do, and before Yoshi knew it, Marlowe had her GED and was leaving for the Marines to have a steady job. The boys were 5, at the time and oh how they cried.

           End Flashback

Here she stood. His daughter, the Marine, had finally come home after three back to back deployments in Iraq and Afghanistan.

He had long noted that the boys never wondered where the money for food and extra little things had come from. And though Splinter had been miserly with it, the insurance money had run out long ago and they had been forced to rely on Marlowe’s pay. Yoshi hoped they would be able to live off of the dividends from Marlowe’s shrewd investing.  

A/N–Exact same version on ffn.

#tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt leo #tmnt raph #tmnt donnie #tmnt mikey #tmnt 2016 #tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2k16 #don't kill me #tmnt splinter #the hamato chronicles