Peter: "With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility."

Peter: "With great power comes great responsibility."

Tony: Okay?

Peter: With my fast healing, I have the greatest duty and responsibility to know what it feels like to be stabbed by all types of knives.

Tony: PETER, NO—

Natasha: How many kinds of knives have you been stabbed with? I had the pleasure of being stabbed by 6.

Peter: Oh, so far it's only 8, Ms. Natasha Romanoff ma'am. All of them hurt really badly when the bad guys twist it though, the first time I felt like I was actually going to have my life cut short—no pun intended!

Tony calling out from the kitchen as he hides the knives: NAT, STOP ENCOURAGING HIM, AND PETER WHAT THE FUC—

Bruce who hasn't slept in 63 hours: *pops in excitedly* Hey guys, wanna test that out? We can increase the numbers and I can expand the data on you guys.

Tony, full on panicking: BRUCIE-BEAR??????

Tony: Hey, underoos! FRIDAY told me you were confused about something and wanted to see me?

Peter, sulking: Mr. Stark, I was asked to name all the presidents today.

Tony: Oh, that's all? I'm pretty sure you already know them all though with your smarts, kiddo, or you could've just asked FRIDAY.

Peter: But Mr. Stark, I thought they already had names?

Tony:

Tony: Holy shit, is that what teachers actually mean—

Peter, filming near the window: i've never seen something as beautiful as this view of rain.

The Avengers, staring at him at the other side of the submarine:

Steve talking with Peter about queer-platonic relationships: Huh. What are the limits to this relationship, then? I get that there's platonic hugs and kisses, but what sets as the boundary line?

Sam: I think if you stick a finger up my ass I don’t think its platonic no more.

Steve:

Peter:

Sam:

Steve: Why would I stick a finger up your ass?

Peter in the corner, only wanting to inform, on the verge of tears:

Peter: Honestly speaking, I'm probably going to die early bec—

Tony: No.

Peter: But my Parker luck—

Tony: Tell your Parker luck I said no.

Civilian: Oh, Spider-Man! I thought I was going to die for sure! Please, have anything, on the house!

Peter: Uh, I don't think I can...

Civilian: Please, as a thank you?

Peter: I-I really can't. I'm uh.. hormones.. I'm pregnant.

Civilian: Oh. Uh, congratulations..? Is it a boy or a girl?

Peter: Uhm, a spider. The father's a, uh, a daddy—daddy long legs.