esamastation
Love Is For Children (Series)
by Ysabetwordsmith
Marvel Cinematic Universe/Incomplete/Works: 54 Words: 457,653
In The Avengers, Natasha Romanova says “Love is for children.” It’s an expression of life as she knows it, and fits the harsh background most of the Avengers have experienced. Trouble is, people don’t do very well without love. In particular it’s impossible to form a good team if the members don’t care about each other.
So Phil Coulson comes up with a teambuilding exercise to resolve that problem. If love is for children … then he’ll arrange that experience for them. The result is an exploration of nonsexual ageplay to allow a group of very powerful, very broken people to patch up some of the gaps in their lives.
Most of the stories are very sweet in tone and make for good comfort reading. However, canon gives these characters some very unpleasant pasts, and that comes up as they process the aftermath. So the tone does vary, and some stories are more intense than others. They deal with different characters, relationships, and sensitive issues.
Some folks have avoided this series for fear that it goes into sexual territory; it doesn’t. Same with embarrassment, very low on that.
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I love this series. I keep coming back to it, and every time, I learn something new. I love seeing everyone healing and getting the help they need, and I love how detailed it is. The notes and research are incredibly impressive. Nothing sexual as said. Even if you think age play is super weird, you’ll still like this fic. It’s all about the Avengers getting the help, healing, and love they deserve.
In the pencils and pumps au does Tony ever introduce Steve to his parents?
I already answered this so I’m going to focus on Christmas Morning where there wasn’t an audience of people Steve needed to be on good behavior for:
“Steve oh my God,” Tony hisses after the third cinnamon roll. “Stop it.”
Steve looks at Tony, swallows a mouthful of gooey cinnamon roll and raisins, and says, “I will not.” And shoves another goddamn cinnamon roll in his mouth.
Maria still looks horrified. Howard looks as if he’s observing a science experiment–it’s horrible, and yet he can’t look away, curious as to what’s going to happen next.
“More coffee?” Jarvis asks pleasantly, and refills Steve’s mug. Steve uses it to help wash down his cinnamon rolls.
“Steve if you make yourself sick I’m going to break up with you,” Tony hisses after the sixth roll. He doesn’t mean it but honestly Maria has covered her mouth and continued to stare at Steve in horror and he’s kind of afraid that maybe his mother might throw up instead.
“You know me better than that,” Steve says, and absolutely does mean it. Tony watched him finish off an entire Goddamn pumpkin pie and have room for three of Natasha’s pastila at Thanksgiving. It’s kind of horrifying how much he can eat.
“You can imagine how hard it was to keep him fed in high school,” Sarah had lamented after Tony had silently watched Steve put away a dozen pancakes the next morning.
“Some orange juice,” Jarvis says pleasantly, putting a glass of orange juice next to Steve’s plate. Steve sips at it. The tartness of the juice goes well with the sweetness of the glaze on the cinnamon rolls.
“Steven if you love me you will not eat that last cinnamon roll,” Tony hisses as Steve brings the last cinnamon roll onto his plate.
“If you love me you will not be surprised when I eat this,” Steve says, and shoves the entire roll into his mouth.
Howard actually jerks back in his chair with a gasp. “At least cut it up,” Maria murmurs to herself, pale, but it’s too late–Steve is chewing, or attempting to chew, the entirety of the final cinnamon roll.
“Tea,” Jarvis says pleasantly, pouring the blond a cup of tea. Steve uses it to help him swallow the final cinnamon roll–it’s a bit more difficult than he wants to admit.
“This is the most bizarre pissing contest I’ve ever been in,” Howard says after Steve has served himself some fruit salad.
Maria stares at the wall, still pale. “Possibly,” she says slowly. “Because you didn’t actually have to participate.”
“I like cinnamon rolls,” Steve says, just a touch defensively.
The laugh that escapes Tony’s lips is slightly hysterical. “You like carbs.”
Steve can’t help a smile as he says, “Just because you refuse to eat more than one serving of starch a day doesn’t mean everyone is like that, Tony.”
Tony sniffs in disdain, but before he can retort, Maria turns her head to look a Steve, appearing more appalled than she had when he’d been shoving an entire cinnamon roll into his mouth. “Have you ever even seen Tony eat french fries,” she asks snidely.
“Mama!” Tony gasps, affronted. “Don’t tell Steve my weakness!”
“It’s horrifying,” Howard says after a moment.
“Dad!”
Come to think of it, no, Steve’s never seen Tony eat french fries. Tony would always order sweet potato fries or a salad if he could. Steve narrows his eyes at Tony suspiciously. Tony is blushing a delicious red. He wants to kiss the flush on the brunet’s chest.
“Eggs,” Jarvis says pleasantly, setting a plate of scrambled eggs in front of Steve.
Steve awkwardly starts eating the eggs. He gets the disconcerting feeling that Jarvis knew what Steve wanted to do.
(Maria and Howard are still somewhat cold and distanced, but Maria does make an obvious effort to converse with him. “Howard has always been a man of few words,” Maria says after noticing Steve’s expectant stare.
Jarvis scoffs, affronted, and says, “He has not.” Then he realizes what he said, looks politely mortified, and disappears into the kitchen without it looking like fleeing at all.)