#level7 headcanon

[fallofanavenger-blog]

Headcanon

Unless he knows knows k n o w s that the person he's talking to knows Fury is alive, he's going to act like rebuilding SHIELD was his idea.

[fallofanavenger-blog]

[[ For verses involving the AU nobody likes where Steve is the Winter Soldier, Phil is still a Cap fanboy. He's a bit of a purist and will have a hard time accepting Bucky as Cap and will continue to specifically be a Steve Rogers fanboy. ]]

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[[Phil Coulson is a brave, good, and dependable man. Most of these traits can be traced back to his dependability. He's brave and unmoving not because he's some hardened criminal but because he values the job at hand more than himself. If he gets stabbed through the chest? So what. Did he do his job? Did he try his hardest to do his job? If the answer to either or both of those questions is yes, then it was worth it. But what does he value more than the job? His people. Let's take a look at Avengers--first five minutes, he's given an order. Get everyone and everything out in less than half an hour. Simple enough. And it's clear that Fury values the somethings that he's getting out pretty damn high. Higher possibly than he does the someones. But when a couple of the someones drop a couple of the somethings, Coulson tells them to "leave it leave it just go". And in Agents of SHIELD, he blatantly lies to Agent Blake so he can keep Simmons--just one girl--on the bus despite the fact that she could kill them all. Because he's a good man. With morals. Like that thieves, even if they're civilians, still deserve a SHIELD-level pounding in a convenience store because they're thieves. But he won't take the credit for it--it isn't his job to take the credit for it. It's his job not to be seen, not to make it in the papers, not to be a hero. Because underneath all of that, he's a normal guy. He's a 40- or 50-something guy with a few black belts, a normal childhood, and a serious man crush on Captain America. He fanboys. He reads when he wants to learn something. His suit of armor is a Kevlar vest. He can die (even if in the end he didn't). The extraordinary thing about Phil Coulson is that he's ordinary.]]

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[[Random-ass headcanon: Phil only wears clip-on ties around Lokis, and it's the only time he wears clip-on ties.]]

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[[Blogging from the car. Queen's "We Will Rock You" came on over the radio, and I imagined Phil with a large group of disheartened SHIELD agents, making them all stomp and clap until they feel impassioned again.]]

[fallofanavenger-blog]

"Don't chase the rabbit"

     He’s sweating. His breathing is coming in short bursts, but he’s working to keep the bursts at the very least even. He can feel his heart pounding in his ears. It’s all a lovely feeling. Such a rush.

     A foil in his right hand and white clothing covering his body, he stares at his opponent through a dark mask. “Ready?” the referee asks. In unison, Coulson and his opponent turn to him and nod then quickly back to each other.

     ”Fence!”

     The white-cloaked swordsmen make jabs and strikes and parries at each other. It all seems to happen so fast. Coulson distinctly remembers no penalties on his part—that much is clear in the memory. Also evident is how close the ordeal is. It seems like anybody’s game. Anybody’s championship.

     And then—oh, yes, then, his opponent does it. He pulls a stunt that earns him a penalty, and his game is off, and the rest of the match goes quickly.

     When he wins, the referee takes Coulson’s arm and raises it. “SHIELD fencing champion!” he announces as the man removes his mask, revealing a wide, bright, youthful smile.

     Not bad for only one year of training…

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Don't chase the rabbit.

[[because I can’t tag asks rn because I don’t have x kit. tw: bullying, tw: bruises, tw: bruising]]

     The room is painted pale blue; a plastic replica Captain America shield hangs above the headboard of a small twin bed with a royal blue comforter and vibrant red pillow. Opposite the bed, near the door, a vintage Captain America poster hangs. The words on it aren’t remembered beyond “I want YOU”.

     In the corner is a wooden dresser that doesn’t seem to match anything else, and adjacent to it is an equally mismatched desk. The state of the room is pristine except for the occasional clutter and the unmade bed.

     A young boy with a curly head of hair walks in, and from the other room the voice of Julie Coulson calls, “Phillip! Be sure you do your math homework before bed!” The 9-year-old boy walks over to his dresser, strips down and slips into his matching Captain America pajamas. As he does, yellowed bruises can be seen covering his torso, but they don’t seem to be unusual to the boy.

     When his mother slips into the room, he rushes to pull his pajama shirt down over the bruises and smiles at her. “And lights out in thirty,” she says, kissing her son on the forehead. “Goodnight, Phillip.”

     ”Goodnight, Mom.”

     And with that, she’s out the door, and the young memory of Phil Coulson rushes to grab the latest Captain America comic book and curl up on his bed. Math homework be damned.

     He had a bullying problem he needed help with. 

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What were you like as a child?

     "I don't think that's too hard to imagine. I was small, normal, maybe even a little on the weak side. I had my fair share of bullies and a bigger collection of Captain America comic books. I was smart or at least a little above average intellectually. Most people didn't really give me a second glance, though."