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mashficolympics · 11 months

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Introducing the M*A*S*H Fic Olympics!

ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL!

Hello everyone, and welcome to the M*A*S*H Fic Olympics, a week-long fandom-wide writing festival that aims to highlight and appreciate the amazing work of writers involved in the M*A*S*H fandom!

This festival is open to all ships (and gen work, of course), and will run Monday, July 3, through Sunday, July 9.

Your organizers are Jay (Jaybirbb on AO3 and @faggothawkeyepierce on Tumblr) and Parker (AMRV_5 on AO3 and @amrv-5 on Tumblr). Feel free to contact [email protected] with questions!

request list || prompt list

HOW IT WORKS:

Each day of the week-long festival will have a specific theme. Authors will have from now until the night before each theme to craft a fic to fit and post it to the AO3 collection M*A*S*H Fic Olympics (find it here!).

All of the posted works for a given day will fall under its theme. The fics can be submitted publicly or anonymously, and as individual works or chapters of a single piece.

Works submitted to the M*A*S*H Fic Olympics collection on Archive of Our Own will be posted across seven days (the moderators will approve each fic on its theme day!). The links to the AO3 works will then be posted to this blog, moderated by yours truly.

Each day’s theme will be provided at the bottom of this post. A list of prompts for potential inspiration will also be provided.

As another fun way to engage with the M*A*S*H writing community, we will also be accepting fic requests to be filled out during the event! Find out more here!

We encourage readers to review and share the works once they’re posted so they can be experienced by as many people as possible!

The event will begin on Monday, July 3rd and end on Sunday, July 9th. Participants should submit their fics by 5 p.m. CDT (10 p.m. GMT) the night before each relevant theme (meaning first submissions are due July 2nd, and last ones July 8th!). That said, we’ll also accept late submissions—the more fic, the better!

FAQ:

"Do I have to follow the theme?"

-Yes! This will make it a lot easier for us to organize on which day we’ll post the fics. Plus, it’s the point of the fic olympics!

"Do I have to follow a prompt?"

-No! The prompts are there for you to use as inspiration, but you can change them up or totally ignore them. As long as you follow the theme, everything’s good!

"Can I submit more than one fic?"

-Absolutely! Write and submit as many works as you want.

"How should I format my fics?"

-You can post the daily fills as chapters in a single work, or as individual works; it’s up to you!

"How do I submit to a collection?"

-When you create a new work, you’ll find a menu in the “Associations” box that allows you to post your fic to a collection. Enter “M*A*S*H Fic Olympics” in the entry box, and it should allow you to select the collection and post to it!

"How do I request a fic? How do I fill a request?"

-Everything you need to know should be in this post!

"I have more questions! Help!!"

-Do not hesitate to contact us at [email protected] if you have any other questions.

RULES:

-This challenge is open to all ships, as well as gen work.

-Canon-compliant, post-canon, pre-canon and AU are all fair game!

-Each day of the week-long challenge has an associated theme. To participate, write something incorporating that theme and post it to the M*A*S*H Fic Olympics collection on AO3.

-No maximum or minimum word count.

-Please tag your work properly, so everyone’s experience can be safe and enjoyable! The moderators may ask you to add a tag to your work after you submit it. We also reserve the right to refuse fics until they are properly tagged.

-Remember to be kind! Any participants who engage in hostile behavior to other participants may be removed from participation. We’re all friends here :)

-Have fun and be yourself <3

THEMES AND SCHEDULE:

Monday, July 3 (Due July 2): Letters

Tuesday, July 4 (Due July 3): Weather

Wednesday, July 5 (Due July 4): Horror

Thursday, July 6 (Due July 5): Orange

Friday, July 7 (Due July 6): Injury

Saturday, July 8 (Due July 7): Alternate Universe

Sunday, July 9 (Due July 8): Secrets

PROMPT LIST:

If you find yourself struggling for ideas, we have a prompt list available here!

Thanks to everyone who submitted prompts! These are totally optional, and only intended to help provide some inspiration if desired!

Have fun, and happy writing!

#mash #m*a*s*h #m*a*s*h 4077 #mashblr #mash fanfiction #mash fandom #m*a*s*h fic olympics

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wild-lavender-rose · 2 months

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Hi love! I don't know if you still take requests, but looking at your MASH content and I forgot how much I fell in love with this series. If possible, with the Hurt/ Comfort Alphabet, I was thinking Nightmare x Unable to Breath for Hawkeye. Reader had succumbed to a bad case of pneumonia and is having to stay in Post- OP to gain some antibiotics via IV. With Hawkeye taking the night shift, he hears reader mumbling and stirring in her cot as she has a horrible nightmare. He wakes her up which startles her and throws her into a slight panic which makes it hard for her to breath from the sickness and the panic. Hope you're having an amazing day/night!

Hey, Mer! I will never not love and want to write for this series, these men *deep sigh of longing* I absolutely love everything about this show. I hope you enjoy!

Warning: Description of nightmare, pneumonia symptoms, panic attack, struggling for breath

"No. No! Leave me alone!"

"Hey, easy, easy,"

"No," you bolted upright, finding yourself tangled in the arms of Hawkeye. The demon in your dream vanished, replaced by the recuperating soldiers lying in the cots around you in post op.

Hawkeye was there, his blue eyes worried as he held you upright and brushed the sweaty hair from your face. "Easy, it's okay. You're safe, it's okay,"

You looked into his eyes, seeking his stability. You were sweaty and shaking all over, and the congestion was making it hard to breathe. You had been brought to post op for antibiotics after a common cold had mutated into pneumonia. The past couple days had been a haze of pain killers and fever. dreams, usually involving demons. It was hard to breathe when you were calm, but now it felt impossible.

"H-Hawk," you rasped, gripping his arms. "Can't, I can't,"

"Look at me, sweetheart. Just look at me." Hawkeye took deep breaths that you tried to copy. "Slow down, just focus on breathing."

You nodded, panic easing as your breathing began to slow. The nightmare left you weak and exhausted. You leaned over, resting your head against Hawkeye's shoulder. "I love you."

The words slipped out, unfiltered, a result of your illness and the warm, overwhelming safety you felt in his arms.

"I love you too." Hawkeye pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Just rest now."

Fanfic Masterlist

#mash hawkeye pierce #hawkeye pierce #hawkeye x you #hawkeye x reader #hawkeye x y/n #mash show #hawkeye mash #mash fanfiction #mash hawkeye #mash #hawkeye pierce x reader #Hawkeye pierce x you #Hawkeye pierce x y/n #mash series #mash 4077

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quordleona03 · 1 year

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A Priest in Korea is Moving to the AO3

Many years ago, I was friends with Scarlatti on Livejournal, and I found she had written a whole lot of M*A*S*H fanfiction (twenty stories! That was a whole lot back then!) using the name Iolanthe.

I read all her stories - mostly Hawkeye/Mulcahy: as far as I know, she was the very first person ever to write Hawkeye/Mulcahy slash stories - and I loved them and I started seeing Hawkcahy in the series and one of her stories gave me the idea for the story that eventually grew into Sins and Virtues.

She read the final part of S&V only in first draft - I started sending her sections as soon as I had finished them - because Susan had cancer, and she died, four months before she would have turned 40. Her website, A Priest In Korea (William Christopher's description of M*A*S*H was "Oh, it's about a priest in Korea") fell into the Wayback machine, and last year, thinking of her stories again and looking for them, I found a complete snapshot of her website, and I thought "I could transfer this over to AO3 and let everyone read them: I bet they have a process for that".

They do. Julie was my Virgil as I walked through the Open Doors and now a priest in Korea has moved to AO3: A priest in Korea03. The longest story on site isn't even a Hawkeye/Mulcahy story: it's a Francis Mulcahy & Margaret Houlihan story, Polarity, which uses "a creaky old sci-fi plot device" to put Francis into Margaret's body and Margaret into Francis's -

He grew even more uneasy under the appreciative once-over with which Dickinson now favored him, and a blush warmed his face. When he caught sight of Houlihan's sidelong glare, he wondered how she -- or any other woman, for that matter -- would normally handle that kind of attention.

"Well now, Major, I can see you're a take-charge kind of gal," Dickinson drawled. "Meaning no disrespect. But your C.O. would have my head on a platter if I sent you off without an armed escort. Ain't that how you got into this mess in the first place?"

And the next-longest is also not precisely Hawkeye/Mulcahy, Playing the Game: The night air was pleasant and warm, and I was enjoying the mind-fuzzing effects of several beers, so my pace was unhurried. I'd almost made it to my tent when a man stepped out of the shadows behind the nurses' tent and latched onto my upper arm. "Hold it right there, Mister Vatican," he hissed.

I knew who it was without needing to see his face. No one but Colonel Sam Flagg, alleged CIA operative and all-around loose cannon, had ever addressed me in that fashion. I froze obediently, though my heart was racing and every instinct was telling me to flee for the hills at the earliest opportunity.

"Got a few questions for you," Flagg went on.

(sadly, now and forever unfinished, but rather in the sense of "there should have been more" than "ends on a cliffhanger")

She wrote what is still (as far as I can tell) the only Henry Blake/Trapper story, one of the few Radar/Hawkeye stories, and also Trapper/Mulcahy.

But mostly, she wrote about Francis Mulcahy falling in love with Hawkeye, and Hawkeye's gentle reciprocation.

Between us, we somehow managed to get the tent door open and cross the threshold. At that point, I expected Mulcahy to say goodnight and go pass out in his bunk, which is what I would've done, but instead he had a surprise for me.

As soon as the door closed behind us, he turned in my grasp until we were face to face. Before I had time to fully register what was going on, he'd looped his arms around my neck and was pulling me forward into a kiss.

It was, I think, the softest, sweetest, most tender kiss I've ever received...and one of the most inexplicably erotic.

What can I say? I loved her stories. She inspired me to write Hawkcahy long before that shipname was invented. I never got to meet her. I'd like you all to read her stories, and thanks to Open Doors/AO3, there they are.

They told me, Heraclitus, they told me you were dead, They brought me bitter news to hear and bitter tears to shed. I wept, as I remembered, how often you and I Had tired the sun with talking and sent him down the sky. And now that thou art lying, my dear old Carian guest, A handful of grey ashes, long long ago at rest, Still are thy pleasant voices, thy nightingales, awake; For Death, he taketh all away, but them he cannot take.

This is sort of a sad post, but it shouldn't be: Susan was hilarious, and it's been a pleasure and an honour being her archivist.

Thanks, Susan.

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lynnswritings · 6 months

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The MASHoles Server Proudly Presents:

This was a server collaboration including: @cuddleswinchester, @pomegranate, @remyfire, @hesgomorrah, @allcanonisrelative, @serpercival, @persianflaw, @singlecrow, @bonesly-and-bitches, and me (@lynnsthoughts)

#mash #mash fanfiction #ao3 link #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #i need a mash tag

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philgbtqochs · 8 months

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A question for the people who write and/or read MASH fanfic. I'm just really curious as to which era is represented more in fanfic!

#m*a*s*h #mash #mashblr #mash fanfiction #mash fandom #polls #don't mind me just thinking thoughts

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shmaptainwrites · 9 months

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Stateside

Pairings: Hawkeye Pierce x fem!Reader

Summary: Hawkeye and Reader take their romance stateside

Word Count: 17 340

A/N: Honestly can’t believe we’re coming to the end of this series! I’m so happy for those of you who’ve been on this journey from the beginning and also those coming at any time it means loads that you’ve taken the time to read this story and support my writing <3 I hope you find a happy conclusion to this long winding love story and feel free to come chat with me in my ask about it! Happy reading :)

Series Masterlist

- T A B L E O F C O N T E N T S -

Chapter 1: You’ve Got Mail

Chapter 2: Love Me ‘Til the End of Time

Chapter 3: Blessings

Chapter 4: Dr. Dad

Chapter 5: Enemy Fire III

Chapter 6: East Coast West Coast

[All links lead to AO3]

Tags: @robin-the-enby @lynnsthoughts @montyfandomlove

#hawkeye pierce #hawkeye pierce x reader #hawkeye pierce x you #hawkeye pierce fanfiction #mash #mash fanfiction #mash 4077 #m*a*s*h #mashposting

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amrv-5 · 8 months

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🎲 Okay but what if. Hawkahy. For the culture. For the challenge.

hehe. hiiiii Remy this one was fun thank you for the prompt!!!!! Under the cut for a whole laundry list of reasons, including: dubious consent (due to both parties being under the influence), explicit content, and, uh, blasphemy, I guess. Plus the fact it's 2.5K (:clown_bj:)

Anyway, my random number generator rolled up #28. A kiss in parting. Thanks again for the prompt (list here)!!!!

A bad day. As if there was such a thing as a good day in the Army. Hawkeye was drunk. The whole camp was drunk, but Hawkeye was soused. BJ was somewhere—he thought, stumbling into the shower tent—BJ was somewhere. Facedown in a cot, probably. Exactly where Hawkeye wished he was. But he had something on him.

He blinked down at his calf, the streak of inexplicable engine grease there, and then patted his chest. The room stuttered, his vision moving in frames. He wasn’t wearing a shirt.

“Weird,” he said, and shoved his robe off, dragging himself hand-over-hand into the stall. He was still wearing shorts. He pushed them off, groaning and stopping halfway down as his head swam. Too drunk. Tomorrow was going to be terrible. He hoped BJ was better off, because Hawkeye thought he might need a little looking after come sunrise.

The water turned on. It took a long moment for him to realize it was because he had pulled the shower’s chain. He laughed into the spray. Things were okay.

And—double good—the water was warm. He laughed again, and went about trying to clean himself, except that the warm water was so unusually pleasant a sensation it was lighting his nerves up everywhere it touched, easing tension out of his shoulders, skimming softly over his stomach, tickling at his lower back.

A flash of memory: BJ laughing against the side of his face, muttering something unintelligible into his ear, tone low and rough with amusement.

Hawkeye’s cock twitched, a spear of warmth striking down his spine.

Well, why not? He was alone, the water was warm, and he felt unusually good. He was overdue some alone time. It had been a bad span of months. It had never been good, not here, but lately it had been worse. Something in him was straining under the weight of the work. Turning inwards. He hadn’t been up for anything in weeks, not even interested in catching a few minutes of relief by his own hand, which was a sure sign something was wrong.

Even now there was a notable lack of responsiveness that would have concerned him, if he were in any state to be concerned. Instead he just decided to take his time, palming himself idly and thinking of nothing much—a med school romp, BJ shower-damp and laughing, the slope of Nurse Dish’s breasts under the thin material of her shirt.

Hawkeye fell back against the shower wall. He’d hit a rhythm at last, pleasure starting to build low in his abdomen as he imagined again BJ stripping off his shirt in that particular way he had—grabbing the back of his collar, tugging it up to bare his lower back—that, and a flash of memory of a night with Nurse Abel, her lips against his jaw, a nick of teeth over his collarbone—he panted, grasping at his inner thigh, his hip, the back of his own neck as he stroked himself faster, climax suddenly in reach as he fixated, inexplicably, on the way BJ liked to stand with a leg up on a lab stool—

The door opened.

Hawkeye reacted badly, unsubtly, slamming his hip into the wall as he yanked the water on, his back to the door. His abdomen ached with stymied arousal. Half a second from completion, maybe less—the need to touch himself was almost irresistible. His right hamstring had gone myoclonic with unreleased tension.

It was Mulcahy who stepped through. He let the door to the showers close.

Hawkeye made the bad choice of giggling, alight, still, with arousal and the fun of harmless mischief. It felt like getting caught passing notes in class.

“Hawkeye,” Mulcahy said, blinking owlishly through the steam. He hiccupped—as drunk as Hawkeye. Hard day for them all. He was owed, Hawkeye thought, a little leeway. A little indulgence. A slip into a harmless sin. But then, Hawkeye thought that about everybody almost all the time. If he had his way, the world would look a lot more like a bacchanal. Just with more libraries. “You’re in hot water.”

Hawkeye laughed again, and tightened his grip on the shower’s chain. His arousal wasn’t going anywhere. It was hard to stand upright. His vision cracked into stuttered frames as he tried to focus on Mulcahy, who was undressing unsteadily, already in the adjoining shower stall.

Mulcahy worked his clerical collar off, and then slipped open his shirt’s top button. His throat bobbed, the pale span of it contrasting sharply with the shirt’s black.

Hawkeye looked away. He was aware the Father was easy on the eyes, but he usually tried to avoid the thought. It made him feel profane in a way he didn’t enjoy. Today, though—boundaries were slipping. Halloween, he thought—was it? Near enough, at least. Walls were falling all over, and so were shells. Why shouldn’t he, then, acknowledge—

He shook his head and failed to smother a gasp as the inside of his wrist brushed his cock, sending a desperate pulse of sensation rolling through his body. Obvious. Too obvious.

“I’m not supposed to do that,” Mulcahy said, in a familiarly wry and distant tone of voice. One that didn’t imply judgement so much as surprise—as though he hadn’t ever considered the possibility of doing whatever it was Hawkeye, and it was usually Hawkeye, had done. He didn’t look over as he started the water up, but it was obvious enough what he was talking about.

Hawkeye gripped the shower chain, willing his erection away, too uninhibited to feel the embarrassment he thought he ought to. No good. He was still achingly hard, the water slipping down his shaft just enough sensation to make him hiss. He placed his free hand on the shower stall’s wall, pressing in until his knuckles paled. “Forgive me, Father,” he said, trying for composure but still breathing heavily, “for I have sinned.”

And then, the opportunity for a joke dragging him far off course even as he realized he shouldn’t say what he was about to say, he added, “It’s been three months since my last concession.”

“Confession,” Mulcahy corrected, looking over at him. His gaze was a tangible pressure.

“Bad joke,” Hawkeye said into the water.

Mulcahy hiccupped. “I said I’m not supposed to do that.”

“Well, I stopped,” Hawkeye said, starting to get annoyed. He’d never enjoyed prescriptivists of any ilk, pharmacists a suspicious and case-by-case exception. “There’s nothing to worry about. You’ve saved my soul. For the next five minutes at least.”

Mulcahy turned minutely under the water, leveling Hawkeye with a nearly blank stare. He could be hard to read when he wanted to be. Mulcahy was good at that. At pulling back. Separating himself.

“I said I’m not supposed to,” Mulcahy repeated, very slow, like Hawkeye was missing something obvious. He hiccupped again. “My rules. They don’t apply to you.”

“Oh?” That caught his interest. Hawkeye tried to focus more intently. There was something like his doctoral instinct struggling to the fore, misplaced and still wanting, confusingly, to diagnose.

Mulcahy’s hand tightened on the dividing wall.

Hawkeye tongued the inside of his cheek, feeling experimental. He allowed his hand to settle on his chest, and then readjusted to lightly cup his pectoral.

Mulcahy’s gaze lingered.

So that’s how it was.

Hawkeye was worldly—jaded, maybe—enough to understand what sort of things might attract a man as young and handsome and apparently intelligent as Mulcahy to the cloth. Had wondered, even, from time to time—but Mulcahy was good at covering himself. Hiding what needed to be hidden. Good at sowing reasonable doubt. But then he wasn’t doing such a good job of it now, Hawkeye thought, blinking curiously at Mulcahy.

Mulcahy hadn’t moved. He was still standing, posture light and apparently unaffected, in the center of the shower stall, holding himself with his usual uprightness. His hair stuck up in unruly spikes. The well-muscled turn of his shoulders glistened with water.

A pang of pity complicated his arousal. The Father, in another life, could have done quite well for himself. But Hawkeye wasn’t the right person to teach him that. Not here, at least, not now, when a person needed to hold tight to their stories to make it through—a wife at home, a daughter, a girlfriend, a career or house or, yes, a faith. Hawkeye didn’t want to rock any boats, lest they abruptly capsize.

Still, it saddened him, in a distant, hazy way, and he decided that if he couldn’t help the Father in the way he really wanted, he could at least help tide him over for a time. And Hawkeye had always been good at putting on a show.

So, with Mulcahy’s eyes still on him, carefully blank, he allowed himself to fall against the far wall of the shower where he’d be most visible. He let the wall take his weight, shaking the stall with the impact. He raked his hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and then let it drift downward, almost incidentally, tracing the line of his own neck, palm moving over his chest—he let his wrist angle down, pushing the flat of his hand over his stomach, and stopped there, fingers resting lightly at the place the hair on his abdomen thickened towards the base of his cock.

Mulcahy hadn’t moved. But his eyes had.

Hawkeye grinned to himself. He was fully hard again, the attention lighting him up with a nervous and flattered sort of thrill. It had been a long two years, and lately he hadn’t been feeling like himself. It was nice to know he could still pull focus.

He palmed himself once, and then twice, tentative, waiting for Mulcahy to say or do anything. Nothing happened. Nobody moved. Mulcahy went on watching his hand, expression unknowable, distant, aloof without the connotation of superiority—it was strange to be watched by Mulcahy, who had the disconcerting ability to make a person feel seen without revealing anything behind his own eyes.

Hawkeye took himself more firmly in hand, and allowed himself to gasp.

A flicker of movement from Mulcahy. Half an inch closer, maybe, Hawkeye thought, letting an exhale shift into a low moan. He half-closed his eyes and thought again of BJ, Nurse Able, and now, since he was there, Mulcahy, who was fitter than a priest had any reason to be. His arms were well-defined, the vasculature on his forearms stark under the pale blonde of his body hair, which had collected a fine mist of water droplets from the shower.

“God,” Hawkeye said, jolting as he hit a particularly pleasurable pace. He let the movement go, arched into it, thighs shaking lightly with the effort of keeping himself upright. The interruption had only made things more intense, and the combination of Mulcahy’s hard, distant, unreadable stare—it felt like a vivisection, nearly, Hawkeye laid bare in front of him, thrusting into his own hand—and the obscene sound of skin-on-skin and his own sharp noises of satisfaction were dragging him close to the edge already.

Hawkeye gasped again, the shower wall rattling with his weight as his abdomen started to tense, his breath stuttering. He grasped again at his inner thigh, squeezing the sensitive skin there—

Mulcahy moved suddenly. Hawkeye stopped, startled, even as breaking the rhythm sent another desperate ache up his spine.

Mulcahy didn’t speak, though, or take his gaze away. He only slid his glasses off, a single, neat, economical movement. They’d gone hazy from the water’s steam.

“Ff,” Hawkeye said, stopping himself from swearing in front of the Father as he dropped his hand back to his cock and went about stroking himself off in earnest—a ridiculous instinct, a word was nowhere near as obscene as what he was doing, and yet it still seemed an inappropriate line to cross.

Without his glasses on, it was easier to tell where Mulcahy’s gaze was directed. He wasn’t fixed, as Hawkeye had initially assumed, on the motion of Hawkeye’s hand. His eyes lingered there, but he was taking in Hawkeye as a whole, looking flatly and with a still-unsettling absence of emotion from his shoulders to his hips back to the line of his jaw, and then to his chest for a time, and then down the length of his body, and so on—taking all of him in. Looking, Hawkeye thought, remembering in an adolescent rush swimming pools and collegiate locker rooms, football teams and the uncomfortable clash of contact sports—looking like he’d probably never allowed himself before. Like Hawkeye was something worth really focusing on, all of him—rare, special, unutterably taboo.

“God,” Hawkeye said again, flattered, a little sad, terribly aroused. He arched into his own touch again, dragging his free hand down the length of his body, pressing in hard, grasping at his own hip for something to hold onto as he locked eyes with Mulcahy and came over his own hand.

Mulcahy abruptly grabbed the shower chain, starting the water up, and turned into it, eyes closed.

Hawkeye pulled his hand away. He’d come hard enough he was unsteady with it, shivers of pleasure still rolling through him as he turned the shower on and rinsed off. He wasn’t any more sober than he’d started, but he was more relaxed. He’d needed to get off more than he’d realized.

When he was clean again, and he could stand without leaning against the wall for support, Hawkeye shut the water off. He donned his robe, and rubbed a towel through his hair. He slipped his sandals on.

Mulcahy still hadn’t moved. He was standing, utterly still, posture communicating nothing, with his head dipped into the shower’s stream. The water wasn’t steaming anymore. It had started to go cold.

Hawkeye sighed. It had been a mistake, he was aware, but it wasn’t one he regretted.

“Father,” he said, leaning over the shower wall.

“Yes?” Mulcahy asked, tone light, distant, as untouchable as always.

Hawkeye cupped the side of his neck, wetting the sleeve of his robe, and drew Mulcahy in. He pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, lingering, fond, sad. Mulcahy didn’t react in any way. He kept his eyes closed, and, when Hawkeye released him, swayed back to stand under the water.

Hawkeye nodded to himself, shrugged, and left. As he pushed open the door, Mulcahy cleared his throat. A very direct sound, quiet but clear.

“Something else?” Hawkeye asked, swaying with relaxation and drink and the heady knowledge he was going to sleep well for once.

“Go in peace.” Mulcahy didn’t turn to face him. When he spoke, it was into the water, and nearly inaudible.

#hawkahy #my fic #mash fanfiction #uhhh. this is Not s for w and so on.#baby's first non-beejhawk sex scene wow. anyway

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32hive · 15 days

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M*A*S*H Website Archive

*some broken links

**no slash fic

***not phone friendly

Best Care Anywhere**

Colleen's Fansite*

Crabapple Cove*

demando.net***

in Love and War*

Jimaine's Story-Swamp

M*A*S*H POST**

M*A*S*H stories by Megan Faye*

The MASH 4077*

sleepingwithghosts

mash slash livejournal

feel free to add more to the list!

#i mostly made this for myself so i know where to find more fics #but i hope this is useful to others #also i hope others have more websites to add #mash #mash 4077 #mashposting #mashblr #mash fanfiction #mine

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sipped-lapped-swilled · 7 months

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Hear me out: a Mash detective/film noir AU with Hawkeye and Trapper having a private detective agency together. (Because if you take them out of that war setting but let them keep their dynamic they totally have the vibe for that) And the others take on all kinds of roles from pathetic client (looking at you Frank or maybe even Henry) to extremely cunning gang leader (e.g. Freedman with all his psychological knowledge or Father Mulcahy for an unexpected twist), the possibilities are endless... It could be either one big story or like a series with a new case in every chapter. And the cases could even be influenced by the real happenings from the episodes (like black market, stolen desk, whatever...)

#If anyone wants to write this please do!!#Or send some further ideas my way and I might sit down to create this thing #Mash #m*a*s*h #mash 4077 #mash fic #Mash fanfic #mash fanfiction #trapper john mcintyre #hawkeye pierce #text #Dotty talks #Dot was thinking #Dotty has thoughts #Dotty rambles

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summerreign4077 · 5 months

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Can’t find the original post I made awhile back, but we are now only 70 fanfics away from having 4077 stories posted in the MASH (TV) tag at AO3! Pleeeaase, somebody take a screenshot of it! I definitely will if I get to see it.

#I can’t be the only one who wants to see it at 4077 #Also that’s for AO3 members only. Guests don’t get to read that many stories.#mash #mashposting #mash 4077 #mashblr #mash fanfiction #mash fandom #hawkeye pierce #frank burns #margaret houlihan #henry blake #radar o'reilly #trapper john mcintyre #mash 4077th #m*a*s*h 4077 #4077th

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elegant-fleuret · 9 months

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all my fanart and fanfic'ing have been on the back burner the past few weeks cause I was prepping for my annual costume party in July. but now it's over so I'm back to (trying) to write like five separate fandom pieces at once including:

2 separate rocket x reader fics (which might get combined if I say fuck it to a real plot and go back to my smutty bread and butter)

A nonlinear multi-shot Ryan gosling!Ken x reader explicit fuckfest

2 separate MASH fics I've been trying to write for like a few YEARS

Actual plots are hard, PWP are so easy 🥺

#fleuretthoughts #rocket raccoon x reader #mash fanfiction #barbie fanfic

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mostlymash · 3 months

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And Their Sons

In response to the survey, 70% of voters would like to see a CharHawk fic. And so, for your reading pleasure, chapter 1 of what I hope will be a lovely, multi-chapter fic!!

And Their Sons - Chapter 1 - Crystalrose - MASH (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

#mash #charles emerson winchester iii #charhawk #otp: and their sons #mash fanfiction #mash 4077th #hawkeye pierce

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wild-lavender-rose · 6 months

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Hi! If requests are open, i'd like a HawkeyePierceXgn/f!reader where they're a doctor too and friends with bj and hawk. They flirt EVERYWHERE (everyone is sick of it and wishes they would admit their feelings). Reader is worried he won't turn from his player ways. They argue and both get upset and mopey. Bj locks them somewhere until they'll talk again. They confess their feelings. They get together and still flirt and bj almost regrets setting them up. Only write if you're interested of course!

It's so crazy that this has been in my inbox for over a year and I still haven't responded :/ my sincerest apologies, anon. Here is the answer to your request, I wanted to do a kind of mini-series in order to do such a detailed storyline justice :)

Part 1-

You were in line to get food in the mess tent when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind and pull you close. "Freeze, this is a hold up. You've been charged with simultaneous beauty and intelligence."

"Guilty as charged, officer." You look over your shoulder to smile up at Hawkeye holding you from behind. "You gonna arrest me?"

"I'm gonna arrest both of you and put you in separate cells to cool off." B.J. groaned as he grabbed a metal food tray and cut into line in front of you.

"Ignore the warden, he left his funny bone back in the O.R.." Hawkeye gave your waist a squeeze before letting go, the gesture leaving your heart stuttering.

"We all did." Margaret brushed past you to refill her coffee cup. "Can't you two just grow up and go out?"

"I'm waiting for the right time." Hawkeye said, grimacing at the slop the cook dropped onto his tray.

Your fluttering heart gave a painful twist. Would it ever be the right time? And if it was, and Hawkeye did ask, would you say yes? You glanced over at a table of nurses chattering together. It was no secret that Hawkeye had been out with most of them. You and him were too close. If Hawkeye played you like all the others it would ruin the friendship you had established long before the moment you realized you were in love with him. And that was too precious a thing to endanger, especially in the middle of a war.

"Ya' want gravy?" The cook asked.

"No thanks," you set your empty tray down. "I've lost my appetite."

Part 2-

You were playing cards with B.J. when Hawkeye walked into the Swamp, humming to himself as he regarded the two of you. "Evening, ladies and gents."

"Evening." B.J. returned. You were silent, focusing on your cards even as Hawkeye burst into song.

"Oh what a beautiful night, a beautiful night, a beautiful night for romance!" He danced over to you, holding out a hand. "Dance with me."

"Not tonight." You smacked a card down. "Your turn, Beej."

"Oh come on. The night is young, the girls are pretty, and I am in the mood-"

"Not tonight, Hawk." You repeated.

Hawkeye stopped dancing, his brow furrowed.

"You heard her, Hawk." B.J. placed his card on top of hers. "Even though I don't believe her myself."

"Go find another girl to lead on." You snapped, regretting it the moment it left your mouth.

"What? Is this because of my date with Nurse Foster last week?"

"No, it's not because of Foster or Smith or Julia or Helen," you smacked a card down so hard it fell off the table. "Why should I care about the girls you go out with?!"

"Sweetheart, I don't understand,"

"Stop calling me sweetheart, Doctor Pierce." You got up and threw the rest of the cards down. "I forfeit, B.J. I'm going to bed."

"Hey, wait." Hawkeye grabbed your arm. "What the hell is going on?"

"Nothing." You pulled your arm away, tears stinging your eyes. "Just leave me alone."

And with that you walked out of the Swamp, letting the door swing shut hard behind you.

Part 3-

"But why can't you get them?" You groaned as you walked into the dark supply closet.

"I have to help Radar with his ripped teddy bear." B.J. gave you a pouting face. "You wouldn't want him to be sitting in agony any longer than he has to, would you?"

"Who, Radar or the bear?" You rolled your eyes but gave him a smile. "You owe me."

"Thank you." B.J. grinned as he closed the supply closet door.

You sighed as you consulted the list of supplies on the clipboard in your hand. This was going to take forever.

You had barely started when someone else opened the door. "Hey, Beej, can't we just meet in the Swamp?"

You froze. Hawkeye. You hadn't spoken to him since the night you stormed out of the Swamp.

"Afraid not, Hawk." B.J. stepped back with a grin. "You'll thank me for this later."

And with that, B.J. closed the door and locked it, trapping you and Hawkeye inside. Together.

"B.J.?!" You dropped your clipboard and brushed past Hawkeye. "B.J.!" You banged on the door. "This isn't funny, Beej. Let me out!"

There was no response. You gave the door handle a vicious twist, then kicked the door hard. "Shit, B.J.! I don't want to talk to him."

"Maybe he wants to talk to you." Hawkeye offered.

You tensed, keeping your back to him. "I don't want to do this. Just...just leave me alone."

"Sweetheart,"

"Don't call me that."

"Listen," Hawkeye took you by the shoulders and turned you around to face him. "This is ridiculous. We're surrounded by a hell hole of ridiculousness, the last thing I want is to have any extra ridiculousness between us."

You stared up at him, wanting so badly to just tell him your feelings. But you couldn't, it wasn't worth the price of friendship. But the anger you felt was costing you your friendship as well.

You shook your head, eyes filling with tears. "I can't keep doing this." You hid your face in your hands. "I can't."

Hawkeye whispered your name, drawing you against him. You buried your head into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist as if he was the only thing keeping you upright. Because he was. Hawkeye was your lifeline in this war, and you loved him.

"I love you." He whispered.

Your head jerked up. "What?"

"I love you." Hawkeye's blue eyes glistened with tears as he brushed yours away. "I love you more than anything."

"But, the other nurses."

"I haven't gone out with them for months."

"What?? But the flirting, Nurse Foster,"

"Honey, they don't even want to go out with anymore. Apparently I'm no fun when I'm in love with someone else."

"Hawk." Your mouth opened in shock, followed by a slow smile. "Hawkeye,"

"Can I kiss you?"

You responded by kissing him long and hard, not even noticing the chorus of whistles and applause from the other side of the supply closet door. You would be annoyed at B.J. and everyone else who had put together this scheme. But for now, it was just you and Hawkeye.

Part 4-

You were in line for breakfast when you felt a pair of strong, familiar arms wrap around your waist.

"Good morning, gorgeous." Hawkeye smiled as he kissed you. "What're your plans on this beautiful morning in the pit of hell?"

"I've got post-op duty with B.J. in an hour." You kissed him again before returning your attention to the cook plopping foreign substances on your tray, loving the way Hawkeye kept an arm firmly around your waist. "You?"

"I'm going to be making a certain B.J. Hunnicutt very happy within the next hour."

"Oh yeah? Why?"

"I'm going to trade post-op shifts with him. Spend a little quality time with the woman of my dreams." Hawkeye grabbed a tray and gave it a twirl, making you smile.

"I wish B.J. had never gotten you two together." Margaret grumbled, refilling her coffee cup with a scowl. "You two are worse than before!"

"I'm afraid it's only going to get worse, Margaret." You fiddled with the emerald engagement ring Hawkeye had gotten you from Tokyo, loving the way it sparkled in the sunlight.

"I love you, sweetheart." Hawkeye whispered, kissing the side of your head.

"I love you, Hawk." You whispered back.

I no longer do tag lists. Follow and turn on notifs to see more.

#tw language #mash show #hawkeye mash #mash fanfiction #mash hawkeye #mash #hawkeye pierce #hawkeye #mash hawkeye pierce #hawkeye x you #hawkeye x reader

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