One of the earliest truths learned by the children of heroes is the simple, universally accepted fact that Thor tells the best stories.

When he was younger, Clint wished really hard for someone. They could be on the road to anywhere and they invariably are. Clint's fingers rest on Coulson's and, like the trapeze or the bowstring, he has learned the value of grip and he doesn't leave bloody fingerprints anymore.

When he was younger, Clint wished really hard for someone. This fic is the prequel to 'you're the one who sees the darkness on the edge of town', which I've previously podficced here.

Steve stares at Thor. Then down at the children. It isn't that he doesn't understand what Thor is saying; it's just that he's sure that isn't possible. "Are you saying that those kids are Coulson and Stark?" Natasha demands. Steve is so glad that someone other than him asked that question. Thor nods encouragingly. "I am. Is that not a relief?" "Um," Clint says. He sounds as though he's going to freak out any second. "No?"

“It's a contingency plan in case of accidental teenagering,” says Stark.

Clint wants to give his kid the world. Isobel's not complicated; she'll settle for a couple of superheroes and a train set.

"When Tony Stark was seventeen years old, he built his first AI. On that day, he ceased to be his father's creation, and became a creating force in his own right. That one act likely saved his life, and not always in the most obvious ways."