#also thank you 20th movie for making him a wife guy again lmao

[yo-yo-yoshiko]

Realized i’ve never drawn the dinosaur man

[majorbaby]

Feel free to ignore if it's been too long or you're not vibing with it but I'm very curious so I want to throw out a few more for the wip ask game: the one where Trapper goes to Illinois, margaret longfic, hawkeye and margaret commiserate over lost loves, and BJ goes to maine (derogatory). pick any/all of them.

thank you :) the one where Trapper goes to Illinois - rated G - at Radar's behest, Trapper visits Henry's widow. margaret longfic - rated M - follows Margaret from beginning to end of the war - i intend for it to be one long character study. the excerpt is hawkeye/margaret, just mentioning that in case it's not your thing. lots of ships appear in this one, margaret/frank, margaret/donald, margaret/hawkeye (none of these are endgame) but i've also got strictly platonic BJ/Margaret and Klinger/Margaret chapters... I'm playing with the idea of the different Margaret 'phases' being marked by who she's with. the margaret/frank years, the margaret/donald fever dream months, the margaret/charles weirdness and the eventual margaret-and-hawkeye-are-friends-now years that take us through to the end. i hope to turn that on its head by the end. hawkeye and margaret commiserate over lost loves - rated T - started writing this when i was super into hawkeye being very mopey about BJ lol. idk if i'll finish it because i don't think i believe that hawkeye would be broken up over an unrequited love for too long. I can really tell I wrote this early on in my mash days, because hawkeye and margaret both ring OOC to me reading this back. BJ goes to maine (derogatory) - rated M - postwar hawkeye/omc established relationship and then BJ shows up and causes problems. this actually started as a gift for you after you mentioned you would be into this premise lmao, i didn't realize you were writing it yourself and didn't mean to steal it from you. CW for what i intended to be dubcon in this. excerpts here:

the one where Trapper goes to Illinois

“Maybe you should go see her too, sir,” says Radar quickly. He seems to know he can say just about anything to Trapper without wearing out his welcome, but is still nervous to make the suggestion.

Trapper sighs. “She wouldn’t wanna see me Radar. And don’t call me sir. We’re not in Korea anymore.”

“You’re still older. You and Colonel Blake–”

“Henry.”

“You and him were closer in age you know? She might like seeing you. You guys were friends. And you would always kick me out whenever yous were watching those movies, or talking about–”

“Walter…” Trapper makes a face. The name doesn’t taste right. “Radar, I don’t think she wants to hear about any of the stuff we got up to. Henry probably didn’t even mention me at all.”

Radar seems to get frustrated, he rubs one eye underneath his glasses and tries another angle, “You were the last person to see him other than me that’s here. I can’t exactly ask Hawk–”

“All right! If it means you won’t show up here unannounced again, eat all the ham and cheese for my kids’ lunches and have my wife fussing over you like you’re a stray cat then fine.” Trapper drains the rest of his beer in one swig. “I’ll go visit in a few weeks.”

“August 20th weekend?”

“What about it?”

“Could you visit August 20th weekend?”

“You gonna book my flight?”

“No. It’s just that I told Mrs. Blake you’d visit August 20th weekend.”

“Radar!--” 

Trapper is so exasperated at this point he feels he could actually strangle his Iowan houseguest, but at that very moment, his wife sticks her head out of the kitchen and begins to ask, “More juice?” *** margaret longfic

The thing about Hawkeye is nobody is just a warm body to him, nobody he meets can remain anonymous to him, nurse, patient, colleague or otherwise. It’s infuriating to her, his unending well of empathy and openness. It’s unmilitary, which she knows he doesn’t care a whit about, but it’s emasculating too and that, she thinks, he ought to mind. 

She remembers her first time, all fumbles and guesswork and suddenly, somehow, something inside of her. The suddenness of it is what she remembers clearly and it’s reinforced by Frank and Donald. It’s not that she hadn’t enjoyed it, it’s just that she hadn’t known it could be different. But it’s different with Hawkeye.

Hawkeye fucks like he doesn’t want you to think of it as fucking, which Margaret finds offensive. He spends time that they don’t have at her neck and her breasts and annoyingly, at parts of her that do nothing for her sexually like her forehead and the skin over her ribs. When he finally puts it in her, the way God intended it, his hips undulate too slowly for her liking and his grasp on her middle is firm but not demanding. 

He’s too present, and it makes her present too. She’s aware of every touch he applies to her, she feels him enter and leave over and over, and whenever he’s inside her fully there’s a moment where nothing happens, like those few seconds after an inhale before the exhale begins - he is breathing her in and out. There’s no time for that. She wishes he’d just fuck her in the sensible, appropriate manner she’s accustomed to. 

He goes to bring his hand to just above where they’re joined, but she bats it away, I’ll do it myself, and he chuckles and doesn’t put up a fight at all, because he understands her and still enjoys her. Maybe he’s the only remaining person in the camp who does. She’s a do-it-yourself kind of woman. Do it all by yourself. 

He’s half-kissing, half-whispering against her temple and she lets it go because as with her and her self-sufficiency, he can’t help himself. He’s a lover and a fool. Hawkeye tries to love her and make love to her, even if she won’t have it and can’t accept it. And to his credit, he doesn’t ever pressure her to. He’s only doing what comes natural to him.  *** hawkeye and margaret commiserate over lost loves

“Well, what are you going to do about this?” asked Margaret after some time.

“Margaret there’s nothing to do.”

“You could tell him how you feel.”

“Why would I do a stupid thing like that?”

“You do it all the time, Pierce.”

As Hawkeye thought about this, he grew even more self-conscious. His eyes started to shift and his back stiffened up again. 

“Do you think he knows?” he asked finally in the lowest tone he could muster.

“Even if he has an inkling, he’d never assume such a thing. You’d have to whack him over the head with it. Or tell him with your words.”

“How do you know?”

“I told you, I know everything,” then seeing the pleading look he gave her and appreciating how rarely he gave her such a look, she relented, “BJ’s not like us Hawkeye. He feels things just as deep, but he’s not always aware of it. And… and even if he was aware of it, that’s different than allowing it, or embracing it.”

It felt to Hawkeye like she was saying that BJ couldn’t embrace him, not for as long as Hawkeye couldn’t or wouldn’t use words to express himself. And then, maybe not even if Hawkeye did take that leap…

“Since you’re so smart,” Hawkeye stacked his tray atop hers and motioned for her to follow him out into the night, where he continued, “What do you think BJ might say if I were to… you know, use my words.” 

Margaret made him wait for the response. He thought she might be thinking on it as they walked together in the general direction of her tent. As they walked, their arms brushed together, and Hawkeye naturally slipped his arm into the crook of her elbow. She allowed it, which wasn’t a good sign for him. He had to hold his breath whenever Margaret allowed him to be affectionate with her, even as a friend. Or especially as a friend. When she was friendly with him, it was because there was a blow coming from some unseen place and she liked him enough to try to soften it. ***

BJ goes to maine (derogatory)

BJ’s mind does a funny thing where it moves a mile a minute, but is focused on only one thing. It’s like when he’d first hit empty road coming out of San Francisco. Hours and hours on his bike, the peripherals whizzing by fade into nothing, until all he can see is a single fixed point in front of him.

Right now the whole world is a blur but for Hawkeye, there in the middle of BJ’s focus. It’s a nice place to be. Forced to look forward, there’s neither a war nor a wife left behind that he can remember clearly. 

“Beej?” says Hawkeye, and BJ wonders if his name had always sounded like that coming from Hawkeye’s mouth. Honeyed. 

BJ steps closer. Hawkeye has set down his book on the half of the double bed that is undisturbed, and he’s squinting at BJ in the low light of his reading lamp.

“Can’t sleep.” BJ says, taking another step closer, so that he’s standing directly in Hawkeye’s light. 

Hawkeye clears his throat. “Need a some water?” he smiles. “A warm glass of milk? What do you do with Erin? Like father, like–”

BJ sits suddenly and looks at Hawkeye sharply. The action cuts off Hawkeye’s sentence.

“Please don’t…” BJ struggles. His focus shakes a bit, but the image doesn’t change. It’s still Hawkeye. “What’s wrong?” asks Hawkeye, innocently. He’s probably thinking BJ’s had a nightmare. Or else he thinks BJ can’t get to sleep in the first place. 

“Nothing.” BJ surges home, towards his anchor, towards the beacon of light that’s always been there at the end of a long, dark tunnel. It’s taken shape at last. It’s Hawkeye, here with him, in the peace and quiet of his childhood home. He cups Hawkeye’s face with one hand as he kisses him. It feels strange to have stubble beneath his hand while he does this. But he can get used to it, he’s sure. It can grow on him. It will, because it’s Hawkeye. They’re finally back together again. 

With one knee up on Hawkeye’s bed, BJ is painfully aware of the swelling in his pants, but can’t bring himself to be embarrassed about it. Not even when he shifts his weight all onto Hawkeye, and they go tumbling onto the bed, and he’s sure Hawkeye can feel his erection through the thin bedspread and their pajamas. He hasn’t allowed himself to imagine this moment, so he just goes based on instinct and maybe a few memories of being in the backseat of his father’s Chrysler. He thrusts against what he thinks might be the inside of one of Hawkeye’s thighs, or maybe it’s the lower part of his torso. Wherever it is on him, it feels good.