#he cut his hair and every single member of the film crew collectively fell to their knees in despair

[natequarter]

every other regeneration the doctor needs a quirky hairstyle. tragically paul mcgann missed the memo on this one

[aggressive-positivity-network]

Okay, so you said I could send an ask for headcanons about the childhoods of some specific merc(s)... I think I would really like to read your headcanons about Soldier’s and Engineer’s childhood :)

Thanks in advance and I hope your well.

Ooooh…I’ve been waiting for this! And thank you for being specific and not just saying “the rest of them.” Sometimes I get overwhelmed with nine specific mercs to write for. Your specifics are much appreciated.

****************

Soldier:

Soldier doesn’t talk very much about his childhood - whether it’s because something happened or he just doesn’t remember it, no one can tell. It’s nowhere in his file, either…he refused to do anything except tell fantastic tales of a fictional youth.

However, in a rare streak of almost lucidity, he spouted off the entirety of his younger years, much to the team’s surprise. Usually, if anyone asked directly, he changed the subject.

But now he described everything in vivid detail. And, with a bit of research from Miss Pauling, everything fell into place.

Apparently he had been born in a small military town in Georgia. His father was overseas, leaving he and his mother alone in their small yellow house.

In order to make ends meet, his mother worked at a nearby factory, mostly leaving Soldier to fend for himself and the house.

“Can you be a big, strong soldier like daddy for me?”

Soldier would always agree, finding his own food, his own entertainment, and his own friends. No matter what happened, he never bothered his mom. If anything, his job was to protect her.

That’s why, when his stomach started hurting and his arms and legs ached, he said nothing about it.

When he forgot the chores he was supposed to do and even the names of his friends, he didn’t bring it up.

When he felt tired all the time and some days could barely get out of bed, he just chalked it up to laziness like his mother did.

It turns out the factory they were next to was polluting the water next to the house with dangerous amounts of lead, which soon overcame Soldier’s immune system of steel.

He could barely remember anything anymore, and he became more and more distraught every day. Sometimes he would forget where he was and run outside, then get lost in the woods, only coming back once he remembered where he was supposed to be.

Soldier began to wear one of his father’s old helmets after his mom commented on his red eyes and the dark circles around them. He didn’t want to worry her. Besides, it helped bring back a few memories if he ever got lost again.

Finally, it got to the point where he didn’t even remember his mother, or his promise to her. He began to wander farther and farther away from home.

One day, he didn’t come back at all.

Out in the world with not a single memory to his name, Soldier wandered far and wide. He usually slept in barns and old, abandoned houses, cut off from most people.

Occasionally, he would find a family that wanted to “raise him as their own,” only to turn him away after finding him too difficult to care for.

He had frequent nightmares, ate little due to his unresolved stomach issues, and could barely walk ten feet without forgetting where he was going.

If he accidentally wandered into the same house twice, he would be chased out with either a broom or a gun - usually the latter.

He became “the demon child” in some counties, and “g*psy kid” in others, due to his long, unkempt hair, hidden eyes, and odd habits.

It even got to the point where Soldier couldn’t sleep on anyone’s property because he would be actively fought off like a wolf or a bear.

His only pleasure was an old movie theater that, as he recovered from his lead poisoning, remembered the location of and frequently snuck into.

The only thing that played were romance movies - which, like many children, Soldier hated - and war movies, which he watched over and over again with starving eyes.

Because of these movies, a single memory from his mother’s house came to him. A woman, tall and muscular from hard labor, giving him a shiny badge to hold, asking him to be a strong soldier like his father.

And thus began his life-long dream of becoming a military officer.

He trained according to what he knew from the films…which was mostly running, doing jumping jacks, and occasionally rolling around in the mud.

This only served to distance him further from his fellow human beings, but he didn’t care. Soldier had a mission, and he was going to do it well.

But the biggest change was his hair.

He had started cutting it off with sharpened rocks, but he was always saving up coins he found for a “proper army cut.”

Finally, he had quite the collection in a dirty mason jar, and marched into the barber shop in his town to ask for a haircut.

The manager was appalled, and at first refused, but Soldier stood his ground.

“Civilian, I’ll have you know that by denying a soldier with a haircut, you are denying America one of its best fighters! I can’t curdle the enemy’s blood looking like a hippie!”

After a short yelling match that, of course, Soldier won, the manager decided it would be in his best interest to comply.

He walked out of that shop with no hair on his head, but a huge grin on his face. Next stop, the ranks.

Soldier went from draft office to draft office, applying for and being denied entrance to the army for his obvious lack of mental stability.

This is when the personal retelling ended, since Soldier became very upset by the memory of his recruitment failures, but Miss Pauling concluded that he just bounced from state to state until Mann Co. found him, quote, “sitting in an alleyway, eating army draft paperwork while sobbing uncontrollably.”

Engineer:

Engineer also never really talks about his childhood, but both Medic and Spy (Spy knows everything about everyone on the team) know that’s for a good reason.

He grew up in a trailer community near an almost ghost town in Texas.

His father was an abusive car mechanic with a mean streak a mile wide and a shop full of failed inventions. His mother wasn’t any better - she was bitter and reclusive, only really coming out of her room to pick a fight with her husband.

However, what Engie lacked in family, he more than made up for in friends.

He had a rag-tag, Rugrats-esque team of pals from all walks of life: Rhapsody, the daughter of a struggling porn star; Tom, the son of two farmers wiped out by blight; Cici, an adopted girl that could barely walk into her trailer without a black eye and a string of slurs; Quinn, the nervous child of a single mother that serves as guidance to the other kids; And Fred, who didn’t seem to have any family, but had become a greaser big brother to all of them.

Together, they explored the desert near the trailer park, pooled their resources to feed and support each other, and used their individual strengths to get through each day.

Engineer, whom everyone affectionately called “Big Dell,” snuck parts from his dad’s workshop for his own creations.

By the time he was twelve, he could make a small, running engine for the soapbox cars his friends frequently raced.

No toy, piece of clothing, glasses, or tool was out of his line of expertise.

One day, though, upon finding that some of his parts were missing, Engineer’s dad gave him a terrible beating that broke a few of his fingers and left a huge gash near his eye.

Since then, he refused to fix, make, or even touch a tool.

He wouldn’t tell anyone what happened, but they could make a pretty good guess, since they knew where the scraps and parts had come from.

The whole group was furious with Engineer’s dad - their Big Dell was funny, smart, and was more loving than every family member they had combined. Even Quinn was red in the face.

They wanted to break into his dad’s workshop and destroy all of his inventions, just to teach him a lesson, but they knew Engineer would take the fall for it.

Instead, they rummaged through trash cans, searched their toy chests, and looked under their trailers to find things Engineer could use.

They waited until his birthday to unveil the massive pile of supplies they had stowed away.

Engineer immediately dropped to his knees and began to cry, and everyone else dogpiled him for a huge hug.

As the creme de la creme, they gave him a pair of welding goggles - the same welding goggles he wears to this day, having modified them so they still fit his growing body.

With his healed fingers and renewed spirit, he made each of them a gift: a toy car for Rhapsody, a skull ring for Fred, a full set of candle wax crayons for Cici, a chewable necklace for Quinn so they wouldn’t chew on their collar, and a mini-planter for Tom.

But Engineer was given the greatest gift - confidence in his own abilities and that he can be and was appreciated for more than his services.

This gave him the drive to build bigger and better things, which his friends happily assisted in creating.

Engie’s best memories are with that motley crew of scrawny, beaten-up kids.

But, as he became a teenager, the abuse grew worse by the day.

He was often kept in his dad’s garage to fix cars in sweltering heat and with nothing to show for his work except threats of what would happen if a customer complained.

His mother finally grew bitter enough to pick on him, wondering aloud and pointedly if she had made a mistake by having him, then immediately contradict herself by wailing in his arms about how she’s the most awful mother in the world, and how she would be gone soon, and then nobody would have to deal with her anymore.

Engie grew more and more distant from his friends as they either moved out, ran away, or, in Rhapsody’s case, died.

He thought of just shutting the garage door and turning on a car a couple times, but he would always return to his memories of the hidden cave of goodies his friends had collected or the many inventions they had helped him build.

It just wasn’t worth it.

On a night when his depression and self-doubt was especially bad, he decided to build a personal invention for the first time in years - a small, robotic chicken made out of bent gears and empty oil cans.

He worked on it for a few weeks, but made the mistake of leaving it on a work table once it was finished.

Engie came to work the next morning with his dad ready to chew him out. But, before any finger could be lifted against his son, he was interrupted by a sweet older couple that was having their tires replaced.

“Now, Ethan, ain’t that just the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your life?”

“Hm?”

“That there chicken statue over there! It looks like it could very well get up and start peckin’ for worms, don’tcha think?”

Engie looked at the couple, then at his dad, then at his chicken. He slowly lifted it from the table and turned the key.

It started to slowly lean forward, then took a few steps on it’s long, spring-loaded legs. The neck went down, and the chicken’s rusty beak began to scrape at the pavement.

Now he had the husband’s attention.

“Didja build that yourself, son, or did your daddy help ya?”

Engineer looked at his dad for a split second before answering.

“My own sweat ‘n blood, sir. My daddy says I should stop wastin’ time on ugly thing-a-ma-jigs an’ put my hands to somethin’ worth doin’.”

The man smiled. “Well, this ‘ugly thing-a-ma-jig’ shows real skill. We could use somebody like you, once we train you up a bit.”

“Now hold on a damn - !” his father interjected, but was silenced with a cold stare.

“We’ll put ya through a state-of-the-art school, then put ya straight inta the work force. You can build whatever you like…and you’ll have a lot better materials than rusty tin. Whaddaya say, son?”

Engineer just nodded, and the man grabbed his hand and shook it.

“We’ll keep in touch.”

Engineer left that trailer park at age seventeen, leaving his fuming father and drunken mother behind.

He only stopped to visit Rhapsody’s grave before embarking on his new life.

There is still a stone plate with a message carved into it next to the headstone. If you brush off the leaves and dig out the moss, you can see Engie’s parting words:

“A friendship with you and the rest of the gang is the greatest thing I ever built. -Big Dell”

[angrylizardjacket]

guessing games {Ben Hardy}

Anon asked: PLEASE WRITE ABOUT ACTUALLY BREAKING A BED WITH BEN (About the bed breaking with Ben message i just sent - it doesnt have to be smutty! I just had this idea in my head of joe stopping by and then seeing a broken bed)

A/N: 2152 words. I love Ben Hardy. I’m not sure this is what the prompt asked for but like...... we have some fun cast interactions and things get like PG13 hot and heavy a bit later on, enjoy!! Also I know Joe isn't this dense irl but it's just a bit of fun.

Ben’s seeing someone on set and he won’t tell Joe who. It’s not that he owes Joe his whole life story or anything, he doesn’t even own him her name, but he keeps making these little comments, almost teasing Joe for not knowing who it is, and at this point it’s a matter of principle.

“That sucks, dude,” you say blithely when you’re sitting beside Joe in the makeup trailer as the makeup team buzzes around you, “do you know why he won’t tell you?”

“Because he likes being a dick.” Joe sulks for a moment, clearly overplaying how upset he was; it was a game, an act, part of the banter he and Ben had begun to share. “Do you know?”

“Of course,” you answer easily, cracking your eyes open if only to take pleasure in the way Joe’s mouth fell open as he gasped over dramatically, “I play his wife, that’s a very special bond, you wouldn’t understand.” You smirk, playing along with the bit and closing your eye again, settling further into your chair.

“You guys wound me, you know that?” With a huff, Joe sits back too and lets the makeup team finish their work. Now that he knows you know, and you know that he know you know, as complicated as it is, you start joining in more often, not as much as Ben, of course, but the fact that Joe has still yet to figure out that you know because it’s you Ben’s with, continues to be both baffling and absolutely hilarious.

It’s not even a secret, honestly, you’ve been spotted together more than once, photos of the two of you leaving clubs together have made tabloids, though looking through them is something everyone here tends to avoid, so maybe it’s not as obvious as you assume it is.

You and Ben are together, and Rami’s known since the beginning; perhaps it was the spirit of Freddie Mercury that made him aware of people’s personal goings on, but there was more to the two of you than just a working relationship, judging by the easy, casual confidence of Ben’s arm around your waist. 

There’s a break between takes for the party at Garden Lodge,t and you’re tucked up against Ben’s side on the gilded sofa, quietly teasing him about his wig as he smacked your hands away from it, trying not to laugh. Joe’s watching you both, giving you a look like he’s so close to figuring out the last piece of a puzzle, though neither of you notice.

“Who is it?” He asks, and really? You really thought you weren’t being subtle; you and Ben share a look, and Rami, who’s looking between the three of you, finally clues in.

“Dude, are you kidding me?” And it’s all him, snapping out of his Freddie-zone to voice his disbelief. He’d known about the little deception since the start, agreed not to interfere or tell Joe since it was kind of funny to watch him ignore the obvious. After a pained moment, he turns from looking at Joe, to looking at you and Ben. “If he doesn’t know by now there might be no hope for him.”

“You know too?!” Joe cries, and Gwilym, from his seat opposite Joe, frowns.

“Wait, do you still not know about Ben and-” Gwil tries, but you give a shout.

“Don’t tell him!” Ben cuts in with a grin, “he has to figure it out for himself.” And he turns, gives you a very pointed grin as the director yells for everyone to standby; Ben gives you a quick kiss on the nose and Joe just frowns deeper before he gets back into character.

It’s not that it takes up all of his time, it’s not that he even mentions it a lot, but everyone’s acting like it’s obvious and he just can’t put his finger on it. 

“If I guess it right will you tell me?” He asks over a cast dinner; the fact that you were there despite being in a grand total of two scenes should have been a dead giveaway, and yet.

“Sure.” Ben concedes, and you’re sipping at the complimentary water and trying not to laugh. Joe starts rattling off names; girls who played groupies, tech crew members, people in hair and makeup.

“Put him out of his misery,” Lucy half laughs, as Ben denies every single one.

“Put me out of my misery.” Joe agrees, and Ben hums, but shakes his head, leaning back against the booth, slinging his arm across your shoulders. “Y/N,” Joe says suddenly, eyes lighting up, and Ben smiles, amused, waiting for him to elaborate; the rest of the table waits with baited breath, wondering if he’d finally figured it out, “you’d tell me if he was lying, wouldn’t you?” He asks, and you’re about ready to faceplant into your dinner. There’s a collective groan from everyone else at the table and Joe looks confused. “What?!” After a beat, Joe’s frown deepens, “how come we never see her on set; she is on set, right?” Another loud groan and Rami buries his face in his hands.

“Ben, stop torturing the poor man.” Allen groans, and Ben just grins wider.

“If he can’t see what’s right in front of his nose, that’s his fault.” Ben shrugs, smug smile on his lips.

“We’ve practically spelled it out for him, at this point it’s just willful ignorance,” you chimed in, and Joe’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise and indignation.

“Spelled it out? You guys are the worst about it! Y/N I don’t even understand why you’re playing along at all,” and he’s met with a cry of dismay from almost everyone at the table, yourself included.

“Joe, you’re killing me.” Rami groans. 

“He’s gonna hate himself when he figures it out,” Tom finally pipes up from where he’s been gazing into the middle distance looking as though he’s quickly forming a headache. Joe opens his mouth, but Lucy holds up a hand.

“If the next words out of your mouth aren’t ‘I know who it is and it’s-’” and she pressed her lips together, gesticulating and still trying to not make it obvious it was you, despite how much it was paining her, “the correct name, I’m going to stab you with my fork.” She warns.

“First, you couldn’t reach me-” Joe says smugly, but Rami, who is now pinching the bridge of his nose, holds up a fork from where he’s sitting beside Joe.

“I second that.” He sighs, and Lucy gives a triumphant little grin, and Joe’s face falls.

“Fine, but I will find out.” He says it like it’s a threat, and almost everyone around the table collectively groans out begrudging encouragement. You and Ben grin at each other.

He’s still not realised by the time filming wraps in London, and he’s seen you kiss Ben several times. He just thinks that whoever he’s dating is just super chill with how in character the two of you are. Part of you wants to never tell him, let him live this little delusion. 

“Listen,” Ben, granted he’s a little tipsy, claps Joe on the shoulder at the wrap party, “man, come ‘round for lunch tomorrow and I’ll tell you who she is.” He offers, and Joe scowls.

“Will she be there?” He asks, so tired of not knowing by this point that he’s willing to go along with practically anything.

“I promise.” Ben assures.

It was the perfect plan, both you and Ben were far too amused that it had managed to go on for this long, and you’re both so elated now that filming’s finished and that you’ll finally get the next few weeks off to just relax that you lose yourself a little in the night. 

Ben’s grinning when you pull him to you, pressing your lips to his where he’s fiddling with his keys at the door to his flat. You’re both murmuring amused congratulations - to each other, against each other - on your performances on the film, fumbling and quick to get the other undressed. He’s still in his suit pants and you’re in that nice set of underwear you bought for tonight, though it doesn’t stay that way for long. 

Ben’s got his mouth and his hands on you, and you’re trying so hard to keep quiet because honestly you didn’t want another complaint incident. Ben, however, seemed to have other ideas. He smirks up at you where you’ve got a hand pressed to your own mouth to muffle yourself, and he bites at your hip as you’re grinding yourself against his fingers, and you let out a yelp.

“You don’t need to be quiet.” He assures, and you try to stutter out that you do, but he’s quick to tell you that his neighbours have moved out almost a month ago. After looking at him wide-eyed for a moment, you carefully takes your hand away from your mouth, hesitantly carding your fingers through his hair as encouragement.

The only thing that ends up being louder than you moaning his name is the crack of the bed frame, the noises you make spurring Ben on perhaps a little too much as one of the bedposts gives out at the head of the bed, shortly followed by the other. The bed only shifts a little, the bed head being held up by the wall, which definitely wasn’t good for it considering how much it was moving, but that was a problem for tomorrow. Ben’s even a little proud.

Tomorrow, however, is the same day that Joe’s coming over, and you both wake up far later than intended, on a broken bed. Joe messaged Ben while you were both asleep, and by the time he reads it, it’s only forty-five minutes until Joe was set to arrive.

“Shower first,” you yawned, and Ben agreed easily. After showering, there wasn’t much time to prepare food, let alone deal with the bed situation, so you just closed the bedroom door and pushed it out of both your minds for the time being.

“He’s going to hate it when he realises.” Ben grinned, and maybe at this point it was a little sadistic, but like Joe had said, it was the principle of the thing. When Ben opens the door, Joe looks at him expectantly.

“There’s been too much of a buildup.” Joe says, stepping into the hall, and Ben grins.

“There’s only been a buildup because you’re dense as a brick, mate.” Ben told him, leading him into the kitchen and living room area, where you were sitting on the sofa.

“Is this a joke? Guys this isn’t funny anymore; Ben do you even have a girlfriend?” Joe asked, clearly irritated at the sight of you, and yeah you’d sort of been expecting this.

“Joe, tell me you’re not this thick.” You said, standing, and Joe frowns, looking from you to Ben, who was grinning, and then back to you. You see the exact moment it all clicks in his mind, and his expression is priceless.

“No.” He groaned, replaying everything in his mind that had happened over the past few months on set, seeing it all in a new light. “Please be kidding.” When you and Ben just share an amused look, Joe sighs deeply. “Fucking hell.” And he walks in the direction of your bedroom, to which both you and Ben cry out.

“What are you doing?” You yelped, and Joe starts, looking back at you.

“I need a moment alone to process this- it was right in front of my nose! I get it now and I hate it.” He sighed, disappointed in himself.

“Not in there.” Ben warns, and Joe raised his eyebrows.

“Not in there?” He asks, confused and a little amused, wondering what was so devious or shocking that you both had wanted to keep him out of there.

“Bedroom.” You offer sharply, feeling yourself get flustered as you admit. “Bed’s, uh, broken.”

“Oh my God.” Joe’s eyes widen and he turns, making his way to the front door, admitting defeat. “You guys are the worst, I cannot believe-” And he just sound so frustrated with himself as he leaves, and Ben turns to you, eyebrows raised.

“I think that went well.” He grins, still a little pink with embarrassment.

“Maybe we should give him some time to come to terms with everything,” you mused, and Ben snickered, nodding as he made his way towards you, “should we deal with the bed now?” You asked, and Ben hummed, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Honestly, I’d like to try and break the rest of it, just for good measure.” He tells you, though it doesn’t really make any sense. You agree anyhow.

“If we’re getting a new bed frame anyways we might as well get all the use out of this one that we can.”