#clint barton's farm

[mohini-musing]

Whumpmas in July 2023 - Day 3 Stitches

I'm dreadful at keeping up with these events, but here's a little something for Day 3, several days late.

Coming Home 'verse, the usual warnings apply

--

“A little help?”

Those words never mean anything good. Nat doesn’t ask for assistance until she’s practically on the edge of consciousness. Clint looks up from today’s honey-do project in the barn and sees her pants slung lower than usual on her narrow frame and the fly undone to expose a sunken expanse of too pale skin and a pad of combat gauze pressed beneath slim fingers to what’s bound to be yet another self imposed punishment for sins she won’t confess to anything but an unholy blade. 

“What now?” he asks her, after scanning through available options for conversation and settling on sidestepping the elephant in the room via direct action on its results. 

“Won’t clot,” she murmurs.

“C’mere,” he beckons, rising from his crouched position near the tractor engine and patting a mostly intact kitchen chair a few feet away. 

She sits with the leg on the injured side stretched out rather than sitting properly. That tells Clint whatever she’s done went deep enough to hurt with movement rather than just bleed. 

“Show me,” he instructs. 

Nat lifts the combat gauze and it’s immediately clear that this one isn’t self imposed. 

“You said you weren’t hit.” The words are calm, measured. 

“It’s a graze,” she counters, face ashen.

Clint pulls his phone from the back pocket of worn work jeans and calls his wife, asking Laura to bring supplies out to the barn and warning her to leave the kids with whatever bribery is necessary to ensure no one is coming with her. 

She appears a few minutes later, a duffle slung over one shoulder. 

“Oh honey,” she murmurs when she peels back the gauze and examines the ragged, swollen wound that’s definitely infected before taking Nat’s face in her hands and leaning in close to kiss her forehead.

“You know better than this,” she chides her.

“It was fine,” Nat counters. 

“Mmhmm, so I see,” Laura returns. “Very fine indeed. Don’t barf on me while I clean it, huh?”

Natasha nods, but it is obvious that’s a command she’s probably not capable of obeying. 

Laura removes the combat gauze, rinses the wound with a saline syringe and ignores Nat’s stifled groan as she does so. 

“You do realize I could have sewn this up without the funk a couple days ago?” Laura tells her conversationally. She might as well be commenting on the clouds outside.

“I glued it.”

“That seems to have worked well for you,” Laura tells her as she takes a pair of sterile qtips from a package and wipes along the edges of the swollen flesh before rinsing the lot again with more saline. Nat’s swallowing convulsively now, her face two shades past night of the living dead. 

Next come tweezers and the careful removal of glue flakes from the decidedly ineffective dermabond. Nat’s trembling all over and Clint moves to support her from behind, guiding her to rest her head against him while he wraps his hands around her wrists and brings them above her heart. It won’t stop her from passing out, but it will make sure she doesn’t get hurt if she does. 

Laura’s hands make quick work of the rest, irrigating the gash until the saline no longer runs yellow with infected fluid. 

“You know I can’t actually stitch this up right now?”

Natasha nods, sucking in a breath as Laura bathes the surface in antibiotic spray and presses a fresh pad of combat gauze with its integrated styptic powder onto the wound before slapping a sheet of tegaderm over the lot. 

“Done,” Laura tells her before rising from her knees and wrapping her arms around Natasha. They stay there a long while, Nat resting against Clint and Laura holding onto them both while reminding the pair of them in a tone that doesn’t match her words that if she’s going to keep their idiotic selves in one piece it helps if they don’t make her pretend she can’t see them favoring a goddamned bullet wound they aren’t admitting to having. 

[purple--queen]

I am just a sucker for Winterhawk farm ff. Let them be happy on the farm. let bucky be adopted by the local old ladies who have a book club every week and want to see them being married. let them have cute moments on the weekend market. let them fix the house. let them have chickens because they watched a doku about "self-catering" but now "They have names and now we cant eat them" Let them be happy on the farm :)

[irondadfics]

Hii, I’m looking for a fic where Tony is looking after Peter and something happens that causes him to run away to the Barton’s and the son tries to hide peter but clint knows he’s there. I think there was also a part where one of the barton kids accidentally shot peter with an arrow whilst tony and peter were visiting. Thanks!!

Here you go! Enjoy!

in case you wanted to skip ahead and just read those parts, the arrow scene is in Chapter 14 and Peter running away starts in Chapter 25.

A Peter Parker Problem by spagbol99

Peter Parker was back from the dead. At least that is what everybody told him. He'd been snapped out of existence until some sort of time travel and an active death wish by his mentor had saved him and the universe. Just your average sort of life for a 16 year old from Queens.  Peter comes back to find May has a husband and a kid. A new family he has to fit into. But he has done it before, he can do it again. The only thing that feels solid is Tony: the Blip and fatherhood have mellowed him and Peter loves the bond they have now. He knows Tony would be there for him through anything. But Tony needs to focus on his own recovery - not small time Peter Parker problems. When things at home take a turn for the worse, Peter decides that he'll handle it himself. He is Spider-man. He's been to space and fought aliens. He can get through anything. After all, if May is happy, he is happy, right? Right?

[supercap2319]

"Thanks for having us on your farm, Clint. I know you must have more than enough mouths to feed already." Y/N and Ikaris had been invited to Clint's farm for three weeks and it gave Y/N time to spend with his older brother, Pietro, who has begun something with the archer.

Clint smiles as he looks at him. "No problem, kid. I'm glad to have more people around here. Means I won't have to kill your annoying brother." Clint said as he stacked some hay bales.

"Remind me again why you fell for Pietro when all you do is argue and tease each other?"

"Because he's got a really nice butt. And he looks so good when he cum—"

"—Okay, that's enough information." Y/N frowns as Clint chuckles. "Looks like Ikaris is getting into the spirit here on the farm." He pointed to the Eternal dressed in black boots and a cowboy hat with blue jeans.

"Wow... He's... He's..."

"Ride 'em cowboy, my brother." Pietro said as he suddenly appeared, giggling as he looked at Ikaris.

[be-compromised]

Thinking of signing up for this year's be_compromised fic exchange? Sign ups close 16:00 GMT this MONDAY 14 OCTOBER.

We currently have 13 people taking part! If you're undecided about joining us, here's a sample of prompts that've been left so far as a taster:

Clint keeps trying to retire. Keyword? Trying.

Winter Holiday Traditions (Christmas, New Year's, etc)

Natasha and Clint during the Blip. Does Clint come back to Nat? Does she reach out to him earlier?

Exes to Lovers

Kate Bishop’s Official Guide to Helping Your Mentor Finally Realize He’s In Love with his Partner

 Any alternate universe or combination of AUs! 

The Red Room (threatens/captures/tortures) Clint to manipulate Natasha (it doesn't have to work :)

One time at a party I kissed someone's girlfriend and to make sure he wasn't mad about it I just kissed him too. I blacked out and woke up to a group text with both of them.

When the Soul Stone is returned, Natasha comes back to life, fights her way back from Vormir, and lands up on Clint's doorstep, needing help to cope/readjust/find herself again.

The barton family farm is a flower farm and Nat owns a flower shop.

Extended family

Opposite sides, but working together (preSHIELD, Civil War, non canon, etc.)

Someone is having a bad time, because a lot of things have been piling up and they just can't catch a break. (Writer's choice! But some suggestions are: work, seasonal depression, holiday planning, pressure to attend holiday events, bad guys that just won't quit.) Their partner / partners / group of friends do their best to help make things better.

Everyone loves strength, but can you love me for my weaknesses?

Coffee . . . all the coffee

[quietlyimplode]

Clintasha Advent

Prompt: Pairing would be Clintasha, scenario: Christmas at the barton farm for the first time alone and in peace with ✏️ (creating a new tradition) of your selection. Can be something fluffy and a bit spicy.

For/Prompter: @melaclintbartoncorner

Warnings: Nil

Word count: 536

A/N: let’s get things started! I know I said 12 prompts but I’ve taken a few more. Most prompts will be daily with sometimes a few more in. We shall see how we go. For everyone who sent in a prompt, thank you so much, your willingness to trust me with your words and ideas is always fun (and for sharing your good things and dinosaurs too). May this be a good thing too <3

———

“You’re here,” Laura says, dumbfounded staring at both of them in shock.

“You’re here!” she squeals and runs to Clint first and then pulls them both into a hug.

“You’re here!!”

Her excitement is so contagious that Natasha smiles, the laughs and then hugs her back.

“We’re here,” she agrees.

Laura steps back and looks at them both. Neither seem worse for wear. No limp, no visible bruising, both in civilian clothing and by the way they arrived, this was not an emergency.

Clint is first to talk and grins, presenting Laura with a small plant.

“For you,” he tells her.

She bursts out laughing, and ushers them both inside.

“You chopped off the head of my favourite plant, and you think you’ll be forgiven by presenting me with a plant?”

“It’s a lemon tree,” Natasha adds, helpfully.

Laura takes it and sets it on the table, then sits to look at it.

“I didn’t mean to cut off the head of your plant,” Clint pouts.

“I know, it was just my favourite,” Laura adds, turning the small plant around.

“We can plant it?” Natasha asks in a round about way.

“Maybe as a tradition?”

Clint looks directly at Laura, as if trying to tell her something with his eyes.

“Natasha has been learning about Christmas traditions,” he says, staring.

Agree with her, he says with his eyes.

Laura understands.

So much of what is normal to them, is so foreign to Natasha.

Even though Natasha was hers before she was Clints, she finds that there still seems to be so much that is foreign.

Smiling quickly, she nods.

“I think that sounds like a great tradition, Nat, soon we could have a forest.”

It’s a reassurance.

Plant a tree and come back to it to see it grow.

We will be here when you return, wherever you go.

Maybe, even further, planting roots, something perhaps Natasha has never done, always transient.

Laura looks at the little lemon tree, and the meaning she’s now attributed to it.

“Yeah. It’s a good tradition.”

.

Clint groans.

The ground hard initially but giving as he digs further.

“Who’s idea was this?”

Laura, heavily pregnant, directs him to keep going as she holds onto the hot chocolate that Natasha had handed her.

“Tradition!” she calls.

Clint looks around, finding Natasha dragging the weeping cherry from the truck.

“Do you need a hand?” he asks, then laughs at his joke as he walks to help her.

Her broken arm still the butt of some of his jokes.

“I swear Barton, if I wasn’t carrying a tree, I’d punch you,” she growls.

He laughs again, and takes it from her, pulling it towards the hole.

“Tradition,” Natasha repeats after Laura, looking around for the lemon tree, and the four others they’d planted in the subsequent years.

Laura joins them, presenting Natasha with the watering can with a picture of raindeer on it.

“Your turn to water it first,” she smiles.

Natasha looks at it seriously.

Making a wish, she pours the water out.

Taking the hot chocolate off Laura and sipping it, she nods as Clint finishes the planting.

“Tradition,” Clint says, taking a step back and admiring his work.

.

[ordinalastronaut]

From Now Until Forever (pt.3)

a/n : a follow up to chapter one (technically). Back to Maria's POV with some other friendly faces in the mix. I think I have one more chapter in the tank on this story before it's over. After that, I might move it to AO3, I might not, no clue but I hope you enjoy and have a great week, reader

summary : Maria's trying to come to terms with a life altering injury while returning to the life she no longer has. Natasha just wants her wife to be happy.

Other tags: established blackhill, mentions of injury, tattooed Maria Hill, because I can't help it, supportive Natasha, best friend Laura to the rescue, Service dog mentioned

word count : 2.7k

❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖

“Alright so it looks like we just need two cans of tomatoes and some garlic and that should do it,” Natasha looked up from the list Laura had sent them with. 

Maria pushed past the fatigue that slowly crept over the right side of her body, not wanting to think about the cane she had left in the car. She had made her decision and now she needed to stick by it. 

“The garlic is on the other side of the store,” the brunette motioned with her left hand, “If you want to go get it, I bet you’ll still beat me to the end of the aisle if I pick up the tomatoes.”

“Are you just saying that so you get to see that dog by yourself?” Natasha used her chin to motion to the service dog that was walking dutifully next to its owner in front of them.

“Who? Me?” Maria pretended to gasp, “I’d never deny you the opportunity to look at a dog. I think I explicitly said that in my vows.”

“That’s true,” the Russian nodded and looked once more at the list and then back to the produce section with a sigh, “okay fine, meet you back here after I get the garlic, no dog looking without me.”

The Commander smiled, nodded, and tried her best not to look like she was about to collapse as she took the cart in her hands and ever so slowly pushed it down the aisle. Section by section she balanced the task of staying upright and searching the cans of tomatoes for the right brand. Her occupational therapist would be over the moon at her “real-world application” of multitasking. 

She was halfway down the row when she finally found them and used the item in her hands to keep her from falling over. The wheels held as she bent down, but seemed to have a mind of her own as she stood up and went careening into the cart next to her. 

“Sorry,” Maria ground out as she regained control of the shopping cart, willing the embarrassment out of her cheeks as her hands threatened to spasm and drop the can in her left hand. 

“No problem at all,” the man gave her a broad smile as he straightened out his own cart. 

That was when Maria noticed the other aspect of the man, his left leg ended in a sleek black prosthetic. She only felt bad about staring for half a second when she realized the man was taking in the surgical scars that marred most of the tattoos she had. 

“They looked better a little over a year ago,” she joked and forced herself not to turn her body to hide the right side. 

“Would you believe me if I said I had a calf tattoo up until a few years ago?” The man laughed and motioned to his leg, or lack thereof.

Maria winced as she placed the cans in her cart, “bummer.”

“Blake,” the man stuck out his hand. 

“Maria,” the Commander offered hers back, knowing that her handshake would be nothing of what it once was. 

“This is Molly,” he motioned to the dog in front of him, “you can pet her if you’d like.” 

“My wife’s going to lose her mind if she finds out I got to pet this cutie,” and yet she couldn’t help but stick her hand out and let the dog sniff it before scratching right behind her ear.

Molly’s tongue flopped out of her mouth as she soaked up the affection. 

“You two dog people?” Blake asked with another easy smile. 

“Oh yeah, we were about to rescue one before…” she motioned with her left hand to the other side of her body, “and nowit doesn’t seem like it’s in the cards.”

The man hummed, “I’m the opposite, never a big fan of them before the accident. Now I couldn’t picture my life without her.”

Maria got one final dog pet before she looked up again. “That’s really nice.”

A few minutes passed as they continued to talk, and Maria continued to pet the dog in front of her. She had learned that they were local and had offered up that she and Natasha were just in town visiting. They both wanted to ask about the other's injuries, but they both kept their questions to themselves. 

“She’s spoiled rotten, I can tell you that much,” Blake laughed, “I swear when I take her to the VA she doesn’t even look at other dogs, thinks she’s one of the humans.”

“She should,” Maria smiled, “I’ve spent my fair share of time in the VA, everyone who works in those buildings deserves to be pampered.”

“You ever thought about a working dog?” Blake asked, genuine interest in his features, “A service dog?” 

“Oh- no, no I-” she shook her head and grabbed onto the handle of the cart once more for stability, “my mobility is pretty much tapped out after a grocery trip. I’m in no shape to look after a dog.”

“There are actually a lot of dogs who are great for mobility and low maintenance-”

Whatever else he was about to say was cut off by a slight squeal from the other end of the aisle as Natasha’s eyes got even bigger now that she saw the proximity of Maria’s hand to Molly’s head. 

“My wife,” Maria chuckled as the Russian speed walked to where they stood. 

“May I?” Natasha didn’t bother to introduce herself as she buzzed with excitement next to the dog. 

“Go for it,” Blake smiled and pulled out his wallet from his back pocket, “listen, if you ever want to learn more, I’m part of a service dog support group. Lots of good working dogs, and even more washed-up vets like me.”

Maria took the card in slightly shaking hands, intending to stick it in her own pocket and never look at it again.

“Give me a call if you want to learn anymore,” Blake smiled, “might not seem as impossible to have someone like Molly as you think it is.”

“Thanks,” she nodded and waved her goodbye to them both as they walked further down the aisle.  

She expected the Russian to make a joke about how Maria did in fact dog-look without her, but instead, the woman just gave her a soft smile as she walked alongside her. Maria continued to push the cart and think about the man not only as they paid for their groceries, but as she helped Laura with dinner. 

“You’re quiet,” the woman pointed out as she used the can opener, “what are you thinking about?”

“I’m… I’m probably not going to get all that much better, Laur,” she flexed her hands under the water as she washed the last cup in the sink. 

The water was blessedly warm and just for a moment allowed her right hand to open up fully. She kept her voice low as she spoke, knowing that Clint and Natasha in the living room wouldn’t let her say such things. 

But Laura was different, she just cocked her head to the side and stirred the sauce in front of her. She always let Maria, or anyone really, speak their minds before she offered any advice. 

“Physical therapy is going well but,” Maria turned off the water and felt her hand once again curled into a fist, “I haven’t made any improvements in the last 6 months. I looked it up and most people online say that this could be me hitting a plateau but some say that it could just be the max of what my body can do now.”

She looked at the jar next to her that she couldn’t open, one that hadn’t even been that tightly screwed on, and sighed.  

“And what do your therapists say?” the woman asked just as quietly. 

“That it’s too soon to tell, but… but I know my body and I don’t think it’s ever going to be the way it used to be.”

“Ria, they told you that from the beginning,” Laura offered. 

She was right the doctors had told her about that, Laura had been present for the conversation, probably more present than Maria given how many painkillers she was on.  

“I thought I would get further before I hit this wall,” she waved her left hand dismissively, “I thought I would have something at least close to my old life.”

“You might, this could just be a plateau that you will work through and get closer to getting to that point again,” Laura added fresh basil to the sauce before turning around and giving Maria her undivided attention, “is it really about not being able to open jars?”

Maria stood and looked at the jar once more, then her hand, before shaking her head. 

“I know that Tasha’s still turning down missions because she’s scared to leave me in DC alone.”

Laura didn’t deny this, didn’t try to make her feel better, she just nodded, “You’re proud and stubborn, and I don’t think the word ‘assistance’ is in your vocabulary Maria Hill.”

The Commander kept her eyes focused on her hands. 

“I think she’s scared that she’s going to go on a mission and come back to… well the worst case scenario for someone who has physical limitations and no intention of asking for help,” the woman took Maria’s scarred hand in her own, “you have to remember, you weren’t the only one who went through something traumatic that day.”

Maria let the hand around her own keep her grounded as she recalled what she had been told. Natasha had seen the video of Maria’s body moments after the bullet hit her and she fell out of the helicopter; she had been one of the first ones to see her both before and after her surgeries. Natasha had thought, multiple times, that her wife would die.  

“It’s going to be hard for her not to worry,” the woman ran her thumb down one of the longer scars on Maria’s hand. 

“I know.”

“Talk to her.”

The brunette nodded knowing that once again, Laura was right. 

She thought about how to say all of this to her own wife, mapping out exactly what to tell her to make Natasha finally return to SHIELD in the way she should. Of course, none of it went to plan and it ended with the same conversation each of these arguments did. 

“Then tell me, Tasha,” Maria sighed, “tell me what it would take for you to get back to the way your life used to be.”

“I don’t need to go back to that life,” the Russian shook her head with a sad smile, “I’m happy with where we are.”

There was some truth to it, but she had known her wife for long enough to know it wasn’t the whole story. She missed going on missions that she was part of from the beginning to the end, not the ones she and Clint took now where they handed it over as soon as they got enough intel.  

“No bullshit Natasha,” Maria reached out and placed her hand on her wife’s thigh as they sat on the edge of their bed in the guest room, “I know you want to go back into the field, for missions that don’t end in you handing over your work to B rate teams.”

The redhead said nothing as she absentmindedly traced over the dark ink that covered most of her wife's arm. The tattoos were no longer perfect, not much outside Natasha was, and so she pushed and asked again. 

“Tasha, tell me, what would it take for you to get back out there?”

Natasha gave her the same look she always did right before she requested the same thing, “you to use the cane and keep your phone on you at every moment of the day.”  

“The phone I can do, I can get better about that,” Maria nodded knowing that she would have to break the habit of it staying in her desk drawer or the coffee table for most of the day. 

“And the cane, Ria,” Natasha pushed. 

The Commander said nothing, they both knew how she felt about the mobility device. She had taken one look at it a few days after she started walking again and focused all of her energy on her lower limb PT for months just so she didn’t have to use it. She hated the sound it made, the way it looked, and more importantly the looks of pity she had when she was forced to use it. 

“It would make me feel better, I wouldn’t worry if I knew you were using it, and if anything happened you would be able to call someone for help,” her wife spoke softly, “without those two things, I need to physically see for myself that you’re okay every day.”

“Then I’ll send you a picture or… or…” the brunette shook her head. 

“You know I can’t look at my phone when I’m in the field most of the time.”

“The cane isn’t magic, it’s not going to guarantee that I don’t fall,” Maria dug her heels in.

“Those two things are the only way I’ll get any piece of mind when I’m gone,” Natasha said firmly in her own position, “I could be gone for days, and if you fell and couldn’t get back up?” 

Maria knew where this conversation was headed, knew that if they discussed it any more Natasha would talk herself out of ever going on a mission again. 

So blue eyes closed for a second as Maria nodded, “I’ll keep thinking about it. I’m going to go get some water.”

Slowly, she exited the room and made her way into the kitchen. She grabbed a plastic cup she was positive she couldn’t break if her hand spasmed and filled it with water. The moon was high in the sky, covering every surface in a cool blue hue as she thought about what her wife was requesting. 

She was being selfish by refusing the cane, it was one small thing for her to change so that Natasha could get back to a little more normality in her life. It needed to be done, she needed to just get over herself and suck it up and do it. Over and over again she told herself that and over and over again she tried to push the pit in her stomach away at the thought of how everyone would stare at her, see her as weak. 

But she loved her wife, loved her enough to do this for her so they could go on living the lives they had always dreamed of. Maria closed her eyes and thought about the life they had pictured, her and Natasha, maybe a kid or two, definitely a dog-

Her mind slowed as she thought about the dog she had seen earlier that day, the one that had helped the man with his everyday life. She shook her head, it wasn’t the same and she would just be trading one reason for stares for another. But it would be different, it would be…

Maria shook her head once more, squared her shoulders, and decided she would tell her wife that she was willing to use the cane, there wasn’t another option. She turned and went to leave the kitchen but stopped as she took in the faded photograph that was in front of her. 

There in the top left corner of the fridge, was one of Maria’s favorite photos of all time, the same one that adorned their own refrigerator at home. A gap-toothed blonde girl and a redhead trying to hide her smile in front of a sign that read “Tiboldt’s Circus”. It was an innocent enough picture, but a closer look revealed a boy in the background getting ready to perform, a bow strapped across his back as he talked to an older blonde teenager. 

Maria Hill didn’t believe in coincidences; for her, everything in life happened for a reason. Including the accident, including her journey to SHIELD, and including the two kids in Ohio who met years before they would end up saving each other in their own ways. 

It took her two tries to pull the business card out of her pocket, her fingers not cooperating in the way she wanted them to, and leaving it on the kitchen table. Tomorrow morning she would call the gentleman, tomorrow morning she would see if maybe there was another option out there. Maybe one that would save her in its own way. 

[natandwandaseries]

This Ken’s job is just arrows

This Barbie’s job is keeping everyone alive:

[vinnie2757]

The kindest thing to do is to walk away. For her safety, for her life, he has to walk away.

Staying away is harder than it should be. Staying close, staying forever, that's easier.

[Claura, from that time they broke up and it sucked for everyone involved to that time they got married. Timeline is '94 to '05]. Warnings for language, injury, non-explicit sex, more injury, Natasha being a teenager, Clint being haunted by his job and having sleep disorders and hints of suicidal ideation, some angst and plenty of fluff. 39k, 3 chapters.

For a moment, he stands and watches her. She’s sniffling, shoulders hunched against the ache in her neck, and he wants to tell her to just get both, there will always be room in the freezer.

Instead, what he says is, ‘marry me.’

She tuts at him, as if he’s told a(nother) lame joke. But then he doesn’t say anything more, and she raises her head to look at him. Her nose is red, her lips chapped, her eyes puffy. She looks like shit, and he’ll be lucky he doesn’t have to carry her home. She’s fucking beautiful and he licks his lips, swallows.

‘I mean it,’ he says, ‘marry me.’

And then, because it’s him, and because it’s her, and because this is what they are, he puts the baskets down, reaches into his inside coat pocket, and he pulls out a box and throws it to her.

Read here on AO3

[shadowthunder]

Barton Farm made in Tiny Glade

[iced-coffee-addiction]

What if Fury was already at the farmhouse when the Avengers showed up?

Fury laying low, pretending to be dead, visiting Laura and the kids. Then the Avengers show up and Fury’s dramatic ass decides to hide in the barn so he can surprise the shit out of Stark

[shewhowillrise]

the farm au supporting cast:

Sheriff Sharon Carter and love interest Fire Marshall Natasha Romanoff

Neighboring Farmer Clint Barton that tried to save Steve from the barn fire and Bruce Banner, who was visiting Clint, tries to save Steve with cpr before the medics get there

James Rhodes helping Sharon and Nat investigate Steve's death

Sharon and her horse Baker, named after Baker's Dozen (meaning 13)

[scavengerssuccotash]

This might get me in BIG trouble but I’m craving (possible) angst

Is there any form of Laura/farm fam in your headcanons?

Nah you’re good!

For my romantic Clintasha headcanon there IS a Laura Barton, though not in the way you might expect! (I’m also still operating under the assumption that Laura is not Mockingjay/Agent 19, nor a retired SHIELD agent. I found that reveal in Hawkeye series to be a rather lazy-hearted to import character development that was previously mishandled during the dreaded farm family introduction.)

Although I won’t spoil too much as it would interfere with future installments of my Sightline fic Universe. So all I can really say is that she is married to…Barney Barton! I have a backstory in mind for her and I’m really excited to explore her dynamic as it relates to Clint, Barney and Natasha.

(I have a very particular scene in mind in which Clint delivers his nephew/niece in the barn manger style with Natasha completely fascinated and disgusted at the birth, considering she herself is unable to have children. It spurs our lovebirds into conversations revolving around the idea of parenthood and Natasha lamenting her inability to provide that and Clint questioning if perhaps he does want a family someday. As of currently he emphatically does not, which ultimately caused the breakup between him and Barbara Morse/Mockingjay. So a nice bit of character development AND angst.)

As for the kiddos I’m transferring the parental ties from Clint to his brother Barney basically. It’s my way to have my cake and eat it too! I really have an entire backstory in mind for both Barney and Laura which will uncover dark secrets, a “from a certain perspective” Star Wars style plot twist involving Phil, and the introduction of Kate, and Kingpin. As of now, however, all I can reliably say is that this particular plot point is at least two installments from even getting started as I’m writing the Sightline Universe chronologically which covers Early SHIELD days/Pre-Avengers to Endgame.

(I’m fully aware that I’ll probably be in a nursing home ranting and raving about this fic universe until I’m dead 😭)

Once the Snap happens that dynamic and Laura’s role and relationship with Clint gets deliciously complicated, but alas I can’t say much. (Think telenovela level of drama, but the gist is that Natasha gets dusted, and Clint is all alone.)

Not a very satisfying answer to this ask in terms of romantically entangled Clintasha, so I apologize!

(If anyone knows of an MCU equivalent of this gif I’d be grateful! Lol)

[yesokayiknow]

been finally catching up with the mcu i've missed and after watched the falcon and the winter soldier i'd just like to say this is NOT a sharon carter defense account and that's bc she did nothing wrong ❤️

[curryalley]

So pre-Hawkeye show, my headcanon was that Laura was a bartender while she was in grad school. When he was a young SHIELD agent, Clint would spend his free time hustling pool and darts at a local bar*. He and Laura met when she noticed the scam.

* Yes he had his SHIELD salary and didn't need the money but 1. he bored easy and 2. untraceable cash in hand is always useful. His earnings went into a go bag hidden under the floorboards in his closet.

clint you little shit. 

[wandascrush]

Breath of fresh air

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, kissing, small hurt, mention of injuries

It was so nice to finally get outside and have some fresh air. The last few days you were stuck looking out the bay window as it poured and poured. Natasha, your wife and soon to be mother of your child, was extremely overprotective and made sure while she was gone that Laura watched over you from time to time.

The Barton’s only lived less than one acre over, on a small but beautiful farm of their own with their 3 mini Barton’s. They had actually given you and Natasha the idea to live off the grid, and who better to have as neighbors than the people who had become your guys’ family.

Especially Laura, she was one of your closest confidants and you loved causing chaos with her. Being a recent agent-out-of-commission due to your pregnancy was different, especially not training as hard and sleeping in, but as your symptoms really kicked up, you were grateful for the break. Recently entering the second trimester had not been easy. It was nice having someone like Laura to talk to, who really understood.

Natasha was scheduled to come back next Wednesday, and God were you ready for her to be home. It was hard to sleep without her soft touch, the Russian lullabies she sang you and the baby every night, and the way she'd gently rest her hand on your back throughout the day as a reminder she's there for you. Sometimes she'd come home with baby clothes or an extra teddy bear she'd seen for the baby's nursery, and in those moments there was no doubt in your mind that she’d make the most beautiful mother.

As you were drinking your tea and reading your favorite piece of poetry, an extremely loud whirring sound caught your attention. Using your book as a shield from the sun, you looked up to the sky to find the Quinjet making a rocky landing in your field, swaying the grass in waves. Almost immediately, Laura came out of her house with her kids trailing behind, worry and confusion written all over their faces. You went to each others sides, "What's going on Laur? Are they okay?"

"I'm sure their fine, relax, it's gonna be okay," but you heard the breathlessness in her voice as she held you close and away from the unpredictable helicopter in the middle of your flower field.

The door to the jet slid open and revealed a group of ruffed up, exhausted Avengers. The whole pack was there from first glance: Tony, Steve, Clint, Fury, Maria, Thor, Bruce, but no- oh there's Natasha. You and Laura exhaled at the same time, half walking and half skipping to Natasha and Clint. Finally, landing in her arms again. Her hold was tender but tight, tighter than ever as she closed her tired eyes and breathed in your scent and held the back of your head. The team gawked at you and Laura like alien specimens in your lovers arms.

"I'm just gonna say it- who the hell are you two?" Of course, Tony was the one to break the sweet moment.

Natasha let out a mix of a sigh and a chuckle, before sharing a glance with Clint. "This, Tony, is my wife Y/N. Y/N  - the Avengers, Avengers - Y/N. There, the formalities are over."  Clint soon did the same with Laura.

The sound of leather could be heard crunching as Fury walked toward you and Laura, embracing you two too hard, nearly making you cough. You gently reached up to give him a hug, "Nice to see you too Nick." 

"HOW DO THESE TWO KNOW NICK?" Poor Bruce, he looked like he was trying to solve a math problem.

"We're agents with Shield, dipshit. I'm just on leave due to-," you gestured down to your visible pregnant belly, "and the fact that Nick is my boss so technically I have to listen to him. But Laura and I have actually known all of you for years, which is how we met Clint and Natasha...unfortunately."  You chuckled when Nat lightly shoved your arm.

Good ol' Steve Rogers was the first to stick out his arm, "It’s a pleasure, Miss." His grip was firm, but not too hard. You smiled up at him kindly, "Nice to meet you too, Rogers. And call me Y/N, are you boys hungry?"

A few hours later you were in the kitchen, freshly showered and bandaged Avengers sitting at your dining room table, causing a ruckus and playing poker. You loved the sound of a full house and conversations mixing together to make one babble of laughing, foul mouthed heroes. It was music to your ears.

A gentle figure hugged you from behind while you were over the sink, placing their soft hands on your belly, you closed your eyes for a second and sighed happily.

“Missed me much sweetheart?” 

“You know I did,” you craned your neck to give her a gentle kiss on the temple.

That night, as the worlds mightiest slept in your spare bunks and sleeping bags, you fell asleep safe and sound with Natasha’s arm around you and your baby-to-be.