Title: List of Avengers Head Canon ~ Clint Barton
Title: List of Avengers Head Canon ~ Clint Barton
Author: kaitlia777
Author's e-mail/website: kaitlia777@yahoo.com
Fandom: The Avengers
Summary: Just a list of my head canons for members of the Avengers and their friends. Short fics for each number will follow : )
Type / Pairings: Varied
Main characters: Ensemble
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE AVENGERS MOVIE AND OTHER MARVEL MOVIEVERSE MOVIES
Spoilers: If it’s aired in the US, then it’s fair game!
Beta: N/A
Disclaimer: Don’t own any of the recognizable character, just taking them out to play!
Author's Notes:
1. Clint has some odd dietary quirks.
No one questions when Clint chooses the pork and beef shawarma instead of the more traditional lamb, but hey, they’d just stopped an alien invasion. They were allowed a little slack.
After a few months of meals at Avenger Tower, it was Bruce who first put together the pieces and realized Clint never ate either lamb or veal. The Archer had shrugged it off and grumbled something unintelligible, but after a few drinks had admitted to not liking the idea of eating cute baby animals.
No one mentions it again, as, after hearing Clint’s reasoning, Steve starts refusing both options as well.
Vegetables and fruit are another story all together. He’ll eat them, but only if they’re dipped in batter and fried or smothered in processed sugar. Tony makes no bones about wondering how the hell Clint isn’t toothless and 300lbs.
2. Clint suffers from hyperopia and has a 70db hearing loss.
He only wears his glasses for reading (he can squint and get by, but the headaches can get pretty bad) and he keeps them in his room, so everyone is surprised to hear Darcy coo, “OMG, you look all kinds of geek chic!”
Her reaction caused Clint to scramble to remove the black plastic frames, blinking around at the room as he took in his housemates. It wasn’t like any of them were going to tease him, but….
“Nice specs, Barton!” Tony said gleefully, dashing Clint’s hope that no one would comment. “They go with that quasi hipster aesthetic you’re working.”
What? “I’m not a hipster.”
“Your skinny jeans beg to differ,” Tony quipped, pointing at Clint’s pants with…why was there a fuzzy pink princess wand in the tower and why did Tony have it?
Pushing that thought aside, Clint rallied. “Skinny jeans do not make a hipster,” he said, nodding to Steve and Thor. “You going to call them hipsters too?”
Tony looked smug. “No, because off the rack jeans are not made to constrain the bulging calf muscles of demi-gods and supersoldiers. Their custom fit jeans are on order. You, on the other hand, have no excuse.”
“Loose material only serves to provide one’s enemies with convenient hand holds,” Natasha said in a tone that brooked no argument. Clint grinned at her, glad that at least one of his teammates understood.
It was one of Tony’s inventions that revealed Clint’s hearing loss. Not intentionally, but when one of the semi-sentient house bots went on the fritz, emitting a piercing wail, it drew reactions from all who were present.
Natasha scrunched up her face in displeasure and turned to glare at Tony, who was already saying, “JARVIS, who is making that racket?”
Steve and Thor both clapped their hands over their ears, though Steve removed one hand to wave Bruce removing his noise cancelling headset.
The Hulk didn’t need to make an appearance.
Unlike the rest of them, Clint wasn’t annoyed by the noise. No, he promptly yelped, grabbed his ears, keeled over and threw up.
Whatever the frequency of the sound, it wrought havoc on the strong implanted hearing aids S.H.I.E.L.D. had outfitted him with several years ago after a close call with a bomb. Normally, he wasn’t even aware of their presence, but today it felt like someone was jabbing his brain with an ice pick, the pain so intense he could barely form a thought.
“Turn it off!”
He was only peripherally aware of Natasha shouting that order at Tony or her hands grasping at his, trying to help him protect his ears.
Thirty seconds of hell later, the sound stopped, leaving Clint a shaking, gasping wreck on the floor.
Clint had never told anyone about the implants (Natasha knew, of course) because he didn’t want anyone thinking he was a liability. His team had surprised him. Thor took the news in stride and Steve had shrugged philosophically and said, “Hey, without medical science I’d still be a 90lb asthmatic…and, ya know, long dead.”
Bruce and Tony had simply exchanged a look and, of course, it was Tony who said, “I want to see the schematics.”
S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn’t wanted to hand them over, but that had never stopped Tony before and the improvements the science bros made to the implant design were awesome.
3. Books. Clint can’t get enough of them.
As a little boy, Clint had loved to read, loved learning, but, after his parents died and he’d been shuffled from one unpleasant foster home to another before running off to join the circus, he’d had to put aside such things. Occasionally, if the circus stopped close to a library, he’d slip off for a few hours and indulge himself (he might not go to school, but he was damned if he was going to grow up stupid), but circus life wasn’t conducive to collecting books.
It was his skill set, not his brain that had caught Nick Fury’s eye and the man had intentionally overlooked Clint’s lack of education, and something Phil Coulson hadn’t been willing to do. Clint could clearly remember the way the agent’s eye had twitched when he’d found out the archer had no formal schooling beyond the sixth grade. A few months and refresher classes later, Clint received his GED, an accomplishment he was quite pleased with.
Though he traveled a lot for ops, for the first time in years he had a sense of permanence. Hell, he even had an office at S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ, not that he ever used it for whatever someone thought a sniper might need an office for.
No, Clint’s office basically became a storage space for his books.
When he moved into Stark Tower, he brought with him two duffle bags, seven bows, thee quivers, countless arrows, 17 Rubbermaid totes filled with books and his Kindle.
4. Clint adapts to the stability of life in the Avengers Tower far quicker than he expected to.
He figures this is partially because all other occupants of the tower are equally strange or used to the strange. When considered next to Stark and Banner, who routinely blew stuff up (sometimes accidentally, sometimes on purpose), Steve, who was still a bit lost (yesterday, Clint had seen him attempting to reason with the coffeemaker. Though considering how often Tony improved the appliances, maybe the coffeemaker was now voice activated…), Thor, who had a fire pit (complete with a spit to ‘roast a wild boar’), had too much energy all the time and was still a little fuzzy as to why Midgardians were uncomfortable with casual nudity and Natasha, who seemed to view cohabitation as a license to harmlessly terrorize Tony, observe Bruce and Thor and attempt to introduce Steve to culture beyond fast cars and loud music (Tony had been trying to help lately), you’d think he’d have the sense to be a little uncomfortable, but no.
The first thing Pepper Potts (Oh, she was awesome. Two minutes after meeting her, Clint knew why Phil adored her. The archer had once ‘accidentally’ overheard a conversation wherein someone had likened Phil’s job to ‘herding a pack of wet, rabid cats’. Though somewhat insulting it was a fairly accurate description and Clint figured that was Pepper’s job as well. Except her pack of cats consisted of Tony Stark and his company, not a team of highly trained agents) had said upon their arrival at the Tower was, “Welcome to your new home. Anything you need, feel free to ask JARVIS.”
On the elevator ride up, Tony had expressed his version of that sentiment. “Mi tower es su tower…except my workshop. Dummy will hose you down with fire retardant if you go down there without me.”
Each of the floors allocated to members of the team had been tailored to suit them in a way that was almost creepy. At first, Clint had been a little let down by how comparatively average his rooms seemed to be…until he began to notice the little things. Unlike the other floors, his high, vaulted ceilings were supported by visible, easily accessible (for him) rafters in every room. The top of every piece of furniture (cabinets, bookshelves, the fridge) was clear and there were random, sturdy protrusions disguised about 10 feet up on the walls. By each vent there was a small touchpad that would let him into the air shafts (Tony assured him there was a manual override to be used in the event of a catastrophic system failure).
But what really made Clint love his apartment was the bedroom. All code name related bird jokes aside, he could admit he had the habit of creating small hideaways in ceilings and other elevated places. Very few people seemed to understand that he wasn’t going to sleep in a traditional bed on a regular basis, especially not alone.
Strangely, there didn’t seem to be a bed in the bedroom…or that’s what he thought before looking up.
At the center of the room, where two rafters met at a perpendicular angle, was a round platform, approximately 7ft below the ceiling. A ladder hung off of the edge of the platform, easy enough to roll up and cut off access.
“Those rafters are actually just a façade around I-beams made of an alloy I designed,” Tony said proudly as Clint gawked. “You could dance a jig up there and it wouldn’t move a millimeter…Hell, Thor, the Warriors Three and Lady Sif could boogie down without a problem.”
“Awesome,” Clint murmured, scrambling up the ladder.
It was so awesome that he could overlook the fact that the actual bed (some kind of freakishly comfortable space age mattress), set in the center of the platform, was also round, with pillows piled along the edge to look like a nest.
Yeah, he was home.
Steve Head Canon #1
Author: kaitlia777
Author's e-mail/website: kaitlia777@yahoo.com
Fandom: The Avengers
Summary: Just a list of my head canons for members of the Avengers and their friends. Short fics for each number will follow : )
Type / Pairings: Varied
Main characters: Ensemble
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE AVENGERS MOVIE AND OTHER MARVEL MOVIEVERSE MOVIES
Spoilers: If it’s aired in the US, then it’s fair game!
Beta: N/A
Disclaimer: Don’t own any of the recognizable character, just taking them out to play!
Author's Notes:
1. Clint has some odd dietary quirks.
No one questions when Clint chooses the pork and beef shawarma instead of the more traditional lamb, but hey, they’d just stopped an alien invasion. They were allowed a little slack.
After a few months of meals at Avenger Tower, it was Bruce who first put together the pieces and realized Clint never ate either lamb or veal. The Archer had shrugged it off and grumbled something unintelligible, but after a few drinks had admitted to not liking the idea of eating cute baby animals.
No one mentions it again, as, after hearing Clint’s reasoning, Steve starts refusing both options as well.
Vegetables and fruit are another story all together. He’ll eat them, but only if they’re dipped in batter and fried or smothered in processed sugar. Tony makes no bones about wondering how the hell Clint isn’t toothless and 300lbs.
2. Clint suffers from hyperopia and has a 70db hearing loss.
He only wears his glasses for reading (he can squint and get by, but the headaches can get pretty bad) and he keeps them in his room, so everyone is surprised to hear Darcy coo, “OMG, you look all kinds of geek chic!”
Her reaction caused Clint to scramble to remove the black plastic frames, blinking around at the room as he took in his housemates. It wasn’t like any of them were going to tease him, but….
“Nice specs, Barton!” Tony said gleefully, dashing Clint’s hope that no one would comment. “They go with that quasi hipster aesthetic you’re working.”
What? “I’m not a hipster.”
“Your skinny jeans beg to differ,” Tony quipped, pointing at Clint’s pants with…why was there a fuzzy pink princess wand in the tower and why did Tony have it?
Pushing that thought aside, Clint rallied. “Skinny jeans do not make a hipster,” he said, nodding to Steve and Thor. “You going to call them hipsters too?”
Tony looked smug. “No, because off the rack jeans are not made to constrain the bulging calf muscles of demi-gods and supersoldiers. Their custom fit jeans are on order. You, on the other hand, have no excuse.”
“Loose material only serves to provide one’s enemies with convenient hand holds,” Natasha said in a tone that brooked no argument. Clint grinned at her, glad that at least one of his teammates understood.
It was one of Tony’s inventions that revealed Clint’s hearing loss. Not intentionally, but when one of the semi-sentient house bots went on the fritz, emitting a piercing wail, it drew reactions from all who were present.
Natasha scrunched up her face in displeasure and turned to glare at Tony, who was already saying, “JARVIS, who is making that racket?”
Steve and Thor both clapped their hands over their ears, though Steve removed one hand to wave Bruce removing his noise cancelling headset.
The Hulk didn’t need to make an appearance.
Unlike the rest of them, Clint wasn’t annoyed by the noise. No, he promptly yelped, grabbed his ears, keeled over and threw up.
Whatever the frequency of the sound, it wrought havoc on the strong implanted hearing aids S.H.I.E.L.D. had outfitted him with several years ago after a close call with a bomb. Normally, he wasn’t even aware of their presence, but today it felt like someone was jabbing his brain with an ice pick, the pain so intense he could barely form a thought.
“Turn it off!”
He was only peripherally aware of Natasha shouting that order at Tony or her hands grasping at his, trying to help him protect his ears.
Thirty seconds of hell later, the sound stopped, leaving Clint a shaking, gasping wreck on the floor.
Clint had never told anyone about the implants (Natasha knew, of course) because he didn’t want anyone thinking he was a liability. His team had surprised him. Thor took the news in stride and Steve had shrugged philosophically and said, “Hey, without medical science I’d still be a 90lb asthmatic…and, ya know, long dead.”
Bruce and Tony had simply exchanged a look and, of course, it was Tony who said, “I want to see the schematics.”
S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn’t wanted to hand them over, but that had never stopped Tony before and the improvements the science bros made to the implant design were awesome.
3. Books. Clint can’t get enough of them.
As a little boy, Clint had loved to read, loved learning, but, after his parents died and he’d been shuffled from one unpleasant foster home to another before running off to join the circus, he’d had to put aside such things. Occasionally, if the circus stopped close to a library, he’d slip off for a few hours and indulge himself (he might not go to school, but he was damned if he was going to grow up stupid), but circus life wasn’t conducive to collecting books.
It was his skill set, not his brain that had caught Nick Fury’s eye and the man had intentionally overlooked Clint’s lack of education, and something Phil Coulson hadn’t been willing to do. Clint could clearly remember the way the agent’s eye had twitched when he’d found out the archer had no formal schooling beyond the sixth grade. A few months and refresher classes later, Clint received his GED, an accomplishment he was quite pleased with.
Though he traveled a lot for ops, for the first time in years he had a sense of permanence. Hell, he even had an office at S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ, not that he ever used it for whatever someone thought a sniper might need an office for.
No, Clint’s office basically became a storage space for his books.
When he moved into Stark Tower, he brought with him two duffle bags, seven bows, thee quivers, countless arrows, 17 Rubbermaid totes filled with books and his Kindle.
4. Clint adapts to the stability of life in the Avengers Tower far quicker than he expected to.
He figures this is partially because all other occupants of the tower are equally strange or used to the strange. When considered next to Stark and Banner, who routinely blew stuff up (sometimes accidentally, sometimes on purpose), Steve, who was still a bit lost (yesterday, Clint had seen him attempting to reason with the coffeemaker. Though considering how often Tony improved the appliances, maybe the coffeemaker was now voice activated…), Thor, who had a fire pit (complete with a spit to ‘roast a wild boar’), had too much energy all the time and was still a little fuzzy as to why Midgardians were uncomfortable with casual nudity and Natasha, who seemed to view cohabitation as a license to harmlessly terrorize Tony, observe Bruce and Thor and attempt to introduce Steve to culture beyond fast cars and loud music (Tony had been trying to help lately), you’d think he’d have the sense to be a little uncomfortable, but no.
The first thing Pepper Potts (Oh, she was awesome. Two minutes after meeting her, Clint knew why Phil adored her. The archer had once ‘accidentally’ overheard a conversation wherein someone had likened Phil’s job to ‘herding a pack of wet, rabid cats’. Though somewhat insulting it was a fairly accurate description and Clint figured that was Pepper’s job as well. Except her pack of cats consisted of Tony Stark and his company, not a team of highly trained agents) had said upon their arrival at the Tower was, “Welcome to your new home. Anything you need, feel free to ask JARVIS.”
On the elevator ride up, Tony had expressed his version of that sentiment. “Mi tower es su tower…except my workshop. Dummy will hose you down with fire retardant if you go down there without me.”
Each of the floors allocated to members of the team had been tailored to suit them in a way that was almost creepy. At first, Clint had been a little let down by how comparatively average his rooms seemed to be…until he began to notice the little things. Unlike the other floors, his high, vaulted ceilings were supported by visible, easily accessible (for him) rafters in every room. The top of every piece of furniture (cabinets, bookshelves, the fridge) was clear and there were random, sturdy protrusions disguised about 10 feet up on the walls. By each vent there was a small touchpad that would let him into the air shafts (Tony assured him there was a manual override to be used in the event of a catastrophic system failure).
But what really made Clint love his apartment was the bedroom. All code name related bird jokes aside, he could admit he had the habit of creating small hideaways in ceilings and other elevated places. Very few people seemed to understand that he wasn’t going to sleep in a traditional bed on a regular basis, especially not alone.
Strangely, there didn’t seem to be a bed in the bedroom…or that’s what he thought before looking up.
At the center of the room, where two rafters met at a perpendicular angle, was a round platform, approximately 7ft below the ceiling. A ladder hung off of the edge of the platform, easy enough to roll up and cut off access.
“Those rafters are actually just a façade around I-beams made of an alloy I designed,” Tony said proudly as Clint gawked. “You could dance a jig up there and it wouldn’t move a millimeter…Hell, Thor, the Warriors Three and Lady Sif could boogie down without a problem.”
“Awesome,” Clint murmured, scrambling up the ladder.
It was so awesome that he could overlook the fact that the actual bed (some kind of freakishly comfortable space age mattress), set in the center of the platform, was also round, with pillows piled along the edge to look like a nest.
Yeah, he was home.
Steve Head Canon #1