So Steve’s been trying to convince Tony -slowly, as much as he can without pushing too hard- to adopt kids.
Tony always exits stage left as fast as is humanly possible. Once, he even blows something up to distract Steve long enough to punch the repulsors and fly off.
Then, when they’re at a crappy gala which they all hate-
Natasha’s off to the side with Bruce, teaching him how not to go on a vicious homicidal spree when one of the people here tries to talk to you (it’s harder than it looks, seriously), and Tony has finished his quota of schmoozing for the night. He’s looking around, casting world-suffering looks at the other Avengers when he finally catches Steve, and he stops, frozen, hand outstretched to tap him on the shoulder. Because Steve is bouncing a baby carefully in his arms, with this small, intimate smile on his face, looking down at it like he’s holding the world bunched in baby booties and a diaper.
Tony hears him tell the mother that he’s beautiful, and the mother gushes before scooping the baby back up in her arms and spinning him, gliding back into the crowd.
Tony just stands there, shock-still, until Steve notices him.
Steve turns to him, bashful, like he’s been caught doing something wrong, and Tony knows that if he presses up against his chest, his arms, it’ll be achingly warm where the baby was.
Tony looks down at his feet. He swallows; says, “So, they seem less horrible than I originally thought.”
And steve’s answering smile makes him dread the dirty diapers, the crushing responsibility, and his own monumental daddy issues a bit less than he did a minute ago.
Principal Coulson: Did you really expect me to believe that we have a (looks down at paper) Philosophy and Star Trek class here? Taught by a (looks down at paper) Hugh Jaynus?
[Wade starts snickering loudly]
Avengers AU Meme » Superfamily [2/?] - Discovering a chance to slack off (and mainly inspired by last night’s Community episode) Wade convinces Peter to create a fake single-credit Independent Studies course for him. Principal Coulson manages to figure it out and brings both boys into his office.
“On the day my son Josh was born, (Joshua; Natasha insists), she grabbed me (nearly by the throat, but she’d tell anyone otherwise) and made me swear on my bows, on my life, and on my manhood that her son would stay safe. As I watched the redheaded assassin hold him, I allowed myself that minute of peace. I told myself that nothing could be as forgiving as this moment; every terrible thing we had done would be cleaned then, for Joshua was brand new and it was our job to keep him that way. Sure enough, a few years later we welcomed the arrival of a daughter who brought her mom’s cleverness and strength with her. I don’t cry often, but I’ll tell you what, when Mya wrapped her tiny, wrinkled fingers around mine, (as she chewed on them, too), I was a goner. Natasha was never too fond of pink, but because the baby who called her ‘mama’ loved it, Nat figured it must not be so bad. Later, when I listened to Nat sing a Russian lullaby to her fussy daughter, I knew the promise that I made Natasha years ago was something I could never guarantee. Our children were in danger from the moment they were conceived and I tried to convince their protective mother otherwise. I was wrong. So damned wrong. I guess it came with the family name.”