Steve Talking With Peter About Queer-platonic Relationships: Huh. What Are The Limits To This Relationship,

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: "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??????

Clint: Happy Father's day!

Peter: I hope my father's happy from 6 feet below, I wonder what entertainment he has down there.

Pepper: Peter, what did we say about the dead family jokes? I'm afraid that'll be a cause for another appointment— Tony, why do you look like that?

Tony, shrugging as he drinks his coffee: I’m sure wherever my Dad is, he’s looking down on me. He’s not just dead, he's also very condescending.

Scott, under his breath, scheduling an appointment for both of them: Jesus Christ, like father like son, apparently.

Tony, holding Peter's hand: Alright, Petey-pie. It's time to open up.

Peter, squeezing it: Alright, okay.. Well, it all started a decade ago, when my parents died in an airplane crash.

The dentist:

does someone want to be stuck in my freezer?

Tony: How about you, kiddo? What do you want?

Peter: I want peace of my mind. To stop thinking about the inevitable deaths of my loved ones and that I'll have to bury them someday, and to stop crying myself to sleep every night.

Tony:

Peter:

McDonald's employee on speaker: I'm afraid we don't have that, sir.