#bruce banner has the WORST deadname in the world and this is deliberate because i like making things hard on myself

[t4tbruharvey]

the wip title "you ruined everything (you stupid bitch)" made me laugh out loud hhhh what's this about?

LOL ok so the title itself is a lyric from you stupid bitch from crazy ex girlfriend (peak song it's so fun it's a deliberately wallow-y song for when you, well, ruin everything) and the fic is my own personal 'verse for the first few issues of the hulk comics ever? where bruce and rick are trans and they go on the run like in the norton film but rick gets 'rescued' by betty ross (who is a lesbian and this is relevant bc she was dating bruce, who didn't yet know he was trans but does now so rick is calling him 'dr banner' the whole time in front of betty to avoid using names and pronouns) and they try to track down bruce but end up finding jennifer (bi but doesnt know it and WILL end up dating betty) and the like. idk other avengers stuff happens many of the avengers are trans it's me rubbing my evil trans hands all over marvel heroes and making their stories be heavily linked to their transness and how that can manifest differently for different people

HERE is a part i've definitely already posted but also too bad you'll all have to read it again because it was a good move from past me and still holds up months later as something that introduced rick jones pretty well

There were definitely better solutions to this, she thinks as she’s halfway to where the car stopped. She could’ve had an army jeep drive out here, or something. But she knows more than they ever will about the risks out here, and she doesn’t trust them to talk whoever the driver is down from doing whatever the fuck they thought they were doing.

I’m not a good negotiator, actually, she remembers as she’s almost reached the car. I haven’t talked to anyone like a normal person in… in a while.

And then she reaches the car.

The driver is a fucking kid. A kid, with a guitar in the seat next to him. He can’t be older than, what, seventeen? He’s wearing too many layers to be out in the desert at this time of year, and he’s too young to be driving out into the desert, let alone through the backdoor of a military base.

“You can’t be here,” she says. It’s not very forceful because she's still trying to take in his terribly dyed hair and general air of carelessness, wearing ratty sneakers with his feet kicked up on the dash, eyes closed, playing a goddamn harmonica.

He cracks one eye open. “Shit, doc, you caught me,” he laughs. It’s accompanied by a childish grin, and Mary-Anne’s stomach lurches. He sounds about fifteen, if that. Where the hell are his parents?

It must show on her face, because he drops the grin. “Look, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble, I just wanted to see if I could get in here without anybody noticing. Well, I say ‘I’. I was dared. It was a dare. Some of my friends dared me.”

He’s so obviously lying that it would almost be saddening if Mary-Anne had the ability to think about anything other than the bomb. But as it stands, she doesn’t.