#sassy FRIDAY
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FRIDAY: Boss, your boyfriends are here.
Tony: [annoyed] Teammates, FRY.
FRIDAY: Yeah... your teammates. They're here.
#original: the practice#robert downey jr#chris evans#sebastian stan#tony stark#steve rogers#bucky barnes#stuckony#friday#f.r.i.d.a.y.#sassy friday#tony x bucky x steve#tony/bucky/steve#the avengers#non avengers quotes#quoting the avengers#tony x bucky#tony x steve#winteriron#stony
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Fix Me Up (IronDad fic)
Peter hated formalities.
No, that was too mild a word to describe his feelings on the topic. Peter despised formalities.
Detested them. Abhorred. Loathed. And any other synonym that Oxford had come up with to date that he’d be able to remember as soon as Peter’s mind returned to the right track.
As it was, Peter’s brain felt all jumbled and disoriented, as if he were in a daze, because the morning sniffles he’d dismissed as a reaction to the accumulated dust in his room were, in reality, a case of severe cold due to the weather fluctuations that New Yorkers were experiencing and thus, very much not insignificant.
The last time Peter had fallen ill was three years ago before a visit to OsCorp had juiced him up on a — what would probably be perceived as ‘freakish’ — spider-serum (well, it was more of a spider-bite than a full-fledged serum, but that was what he called it, anyway) that turned his vision into a ten out of ten, dialled his senses to an eleven, and for the initial few months, made him stick to pretty much every surface available. No, that wasn’t a double entendre of any kind. It had been a real issue, thank you very much, until he had hauled control of it into his own hands.
Now one might ask, how did his sickness tie into his hatred for formalities?
Well, it was like this: Peter was sick, all he wanted to do at the moment was go home, politely refuse Aunt May’s chicken broth that was more likely to send him to the ER than to make him feel any better, allow sleep to treat him like he was dead until he was ready to return to the land of the living, and the fever, with any luck, would subside by the time he woke up again.
He didn’t think these were, in any manner, unreasonable demands.
Yet, his school acted as though he’d broken into Nexus and stolen the nuclear codes that he could access on Mr Stark’s servers.
Not that he’d ever say that to anyone because it would be incriminating Mr Stark, even though he was around eighty-three per cent sure it was one of those open secrets that everybody knew but pretended they didn’t. Adults were so complicated.
Regardless, coming back to the point, Aunt May was unreachable over the phone, which Peter had already suspected would be the case because she had a very important meeting with some angel investors who had expressed interest in the latest venture that her NGO was trying to set up for victims of domestic abuse.
Peter had said that to both Mr Harrington and Principal Morita, and had practically begged to be permitted to leave because anybody with a functional pair of eyes could see that he wasn’t faking an illness for the fun of it (Principal Morita had blanched at the hundred-and-three-degree temperature the thermometer had displayed; apparently, the spider-serum had increased his body’s tolerance to the extent where he didn’t keel over while burning up, but still, it would’ve been nice to not fall sick at all).
They had denied his request, of course. Formalities. See why he despised them?
With Peter being miserable in the infirmary and Aunt May not answering her calls, the natural next step in the administrative process was to either call the second emergency contact tagged to his name or the hospital.
Peter had put his foot down when Mr Harrison had tried to make noise in favour of the latter choice. Whether it was his uncharacteristic blunt protest or the pitiful murmur he had exhaled for being too exhausted to attempt anything else, Principal Morita had, though begrudgingly, relented.
That had stripped them down to one option. The second emergency contact. And that was where the root of all his problems laid.
Even when he had been one of the sickliest children, Peter’s file had been empty of a secondary contact since Uncle Ben’s demise because, besides Aunt May, he hadn’t had any such person in his life. But two years ago, his Aunt May had applied to add one.
Tony S.
It had been Mr Stark’s idea after their initial application had been rejected because “there is no way Tony Stark is your emergency contact, Peter; such kind of pranks will not be tolerated!”
As insistent as Ms. Banks was on not being taken for a fool, she hadn’t batted an eyelid when Peter had submitted the revised application with the name tweaked from “Tony Stark” to “Tony S”. At the time, like in one of those really old movies, Mr Stark’s “People are gullible, Peter! They think they know and understand everything when they barely see a quarter of the full picture,” had echoed through his head like a voiceover.
But he was digressing. The point he was trying to make was that despite the fact his school hadn’t, and still didn’t, believe that he had an internship — which wasn’t even a lie — with Stark Industries, much less that Mr Stark would ever agree to be his secondary contact (if Peter was being honest, he too found it ridiculous and surreal sometimes that Mr Stark had been listed as one of his emergency contacts), he hadn’t imagined that Principal Morita and Mr Harrington would stammer say an outright “no” to the man’s very face.
Peter watched, perched on the uncomfortable bed that threatened to make a germaphobe out of him, as Mr Stark’s face underwent a long series of varied emotions until it began oscillating between intrigued amusement and concerned frustration.
“I am his secondary emergency contact,” Mr Stark stressed for the third time. “You saw the papers! They have May’s signature! Why, on God’s holy green earth—” ( Ooh, the fancy curses were coming out now. When Mr Stark started saying things like “God” and “holy”, the best course of action was to run.) “—would I want to compromise your records? Do I look like a kidnapper?” Principal Morita failed to reply within a satisfactory period because Mr Stark pinched the bridge of his nose for the fifth time in the past ten minutes. Someone was developing a new anxious tic. “Why would I want to kidnap a student, Principal Morita?”
“We don’t think you’re trying to kidnap him, per se,” Mr Harrison swiftly cut in, seeing as Principal Morita seemed more interested in mimicking a fish and flailing his hands like an octopus. “But surely, you must see why we’d be, um, sceptical about allowing Peter to go with you?”
“No, actually, I don’t.”
Mr Harrington waved his hands in vague gestures, not unlike Principal Morita but he resembled more of an orangutan. “You are Tony Stark.”
“I’m aware, but thanks for the reminder.” Mr Stark deadpanned, his flat features compensating for the raw vulnerability in his eyes as he kept shooting Peter worried glances. “Look, this argument is entirely pointless.” You tell ‘em, Mr Stark! “I have a sick child to take care of—” He wasn’t a child! He was an almost-adult! That was a thing! “—and he can do with some treatment that is not in this horrible room. Is this what you call an infirmary? You know what, it doesn’t matter! I will need Peter to come with me pronto.”
Principal Morita stood up taller as if something in Mr Stark’s speech had vindicated him. “That is what a kidnapper would say.”
“No, a mugger would say that while robbing somebody. Go on, accuse me of petty theft as well while you’re at it.”
Principal Morita stuttered something out, but whether that was in response to Mr Stark’s utterly unimpressed face or Mr Harrison elbowing him in the rib, Peter wasn’t sure.
The ongoing conversation gradually morphed into unintelligible white noise, overwhelming while being muffled at the same time, like being pulled out of the water after a long time under, the sound of waves rushing ringing in one’s ears and deafening them to their surroundings but unable to mitigate the imposing presence of the people around.
“M’st’r St’k?” After a short second, his brain-addled self wondered if he’d managed to get the words out in the world or if they had died a premature death on his tongue.
“Peter?”
Maybe he had. “I d’n’t f’el sss...g’d, M-St’k—”
💖
Peter blinked. And frowned when his view refused to stop swaying between pitch black and black with spots of red and green in it.
It was another moment before he realised his eyes were still closed.
Oops.
When his eyes fluttered open, it wasn’t to Midtown High’s infirmary that left much to be desired, but to a clean white ceiling with a familiar huge and fancy circle of light decorating the middle which his brain placed right away.
The Avengers Compound’s MedBay.
He had a love-hate relationship with this corner of the compound, in that his body loved to end up here, at least, once a week while he had to actively hold himself back from cursing like a pirate anytime someone so much as mentioned the wing.
“FRIDAY?” He asked in a tone that even his brain thought suited an eighty-year-old, weary of the world, than a teenage kid with superpowers. No, not superpowers. That made him sound narcissistic and ostentatious. Spidey-powers. There, much better. “How long was I out this time?”
“You missed both lunch and dinner, if that answers your question,” came the reply from the person who was very much not FRIDAY.
“Mr Stark!” He attempted to sit up to no avail, Mr Stark’s firm grip on his shoulders gently pushing him back on the bed. Peter might have been stronger but Mr Stark was much more stubborn and a lot less prone to listening.
“How’re you feeling, kid?”
“Fine, actually, y’know, given everything.” He was no longer burning up, his skin didn’t crawl, the pounding in his head had subsided, and nothing felt jammed up his nose. All in all, he felt much more in control of himself. At least, the spider-serum worked fast.
“Good, because I need to yell at you and I’d prefer to do that while you’re not being miserable in your own body.”
“Oh, come on, Mr Stark! I didn’t even do anything this time!”
“Yeah?” The man’s eyes narrowed at him in that manner where, historically, it meant he had yet to decide whether to be angry with him or let himself show his amusement at his antics. Usually, the latter won out after a few minutes of forced yelling which was more to help keep up his façade of a responsible adult than anything else. Here’s to hoping! “Then was it your clone who assured your Aunt May in the morning that you were okay and, in fact, healthy enough to attend school?”
Had Peter been sitting, he would have bowed his head or looked away. Since he was currently laid out helpless on the bed as Mr Stark hovered over him like a concerned parent mentor, bowing his head wasn't on the table and looking away could be considered impolite. Mr Stark didn’t take kindly to rudeness and Peter was in no mood to be tickled.
“Sorry, Mr Stark.” Apologising? Now that came much more naturally to him. Mr Stark said it was a problem. Peter wasn’t so sure.
“What are you sorry for?”
That sounded like a trick question. Peter eyed the other man with carefully concealed suspicion. “For falling sick?”
Mr Stark sighed in that exasperated way that was typically followed up with something either deeply profound or extremely heartfelt, and in both cases, Peter would be left speechless and a tiny smidge teary-eyed.
“Don’t be sorry for falling sick, Peter! How would you feel if I apologised for getting hurt on a mission?”
Peter shrugged. “Good, actually, because then it would mean you’ll try not to throw yourself in the active line of gunfire when the next fight comes along.” After a moment, he added, “And maybe a tiny bit worried if you said the word ‘sorry’.”
“Pot, kettle, Underoos.” Mr Stark rolled his eyes. “And stop distracting me from the real issue here.”
“There’s no real issue, Mr Stark—”
“You should have told May that you had a fever, Pete.” He didn’t have a fever in the morning! “She was so scared when she saw the missed calls. She almost hitched a ride with Karen.”
“She hates Karen.” Peter’s mumble was barely audible, but somehow Mr Stark heard it.
“I know. I talked her down from blowing her dinner invitation with the investors. She’ll be here in another—” He spared a glance at his expensive wristwatch. “—fifteen minutes or so.”
“Thanks, Mr Stark! I didn’t mean to cause any problems—”
“You didn’t,” Mr Stark said, his voice soft. “We just worry, Pete. You’d know when you reach our age and have to look after a hyperenergetic kid who can’t seem to keep out of trouble.”
“That’s right, Peter!” FRIDAY chimed in. “Boss nearly went into a panic attack at the thought of you being hurt.”
Mr Stark immediately hushed his AI, but FRIDAY made even her silence seem...smug.
“I didn’t.” Mr Stark was convincing nobody. He was such a mother-hen.
Peter shook his head with a small smile. “This won’t happen again, Mr Stark, I promise.”
“Yes. Please remember, we’re all here for you, okay?” The man squeezed his hand. His touch was warm and assuring, and it grounded Peter.
“I didn’t expect a few sneezes to turn into a fever. I’d thought the serum had taken care of that.”
“Me too. I have talked with Bruce. If you are fine with him taking a couple of samples, he’s agreed to look into it.”
“Sure.” A year ago, he’d have been uncomfortable at the prospect of Doctor Bruce Banner wasting his precious time on something as insignificant as Peter’s blood tests. But Mr Stark had beaten the so-called “self-deprecation” out with his snarky retorts and sassy eye-rolls, and Doctor Banner had, after returning from “the garbage planet” (not his words), become something of a second mentor to him.
Also, this was for science. Doctor Banner was always interested in analysing the dos and don’ts and powers and the side effects of the spider-serum.
“Boss, Forehead of Security is pulling up into the driveway with Mrs Parker as we speak.”
“Oh, goody! She can take over the yelling now. FRI, order some pizza!”
“On it!”
“Mr Stark!” Peter called for the man with a tone of voice that, to unsuspecting people, might have sounded whiny, but really, it wasn’t. “Save me!”
“Nope! You deserve it!”
“I promise I won’t do it again!”
“FRI, remind the young lad of the last time he’d said the same thing, please.”
“Three weeks ago, on the twenty-ninth of March, at 8:14 in the evening, Peter Parker had promised not to hide anything from Tony Stark and May Parker ever again post a two-hour surgery for failing to alert anybody after getting shot while stopping a bank robbery.”
Peter resisted the urge to pout. “FRIDAY! You didn’t have to recount in such detail.”
“I am not programmed to recite half-information, Peter.” She was trolling him. He could feel it in his bones.
“Hah!” Mr Stark crowed. “I am so proud of you, baby girl.”
“Boss, I have done some research and I have arrived at a conclusion.”
Peter’s heart hammered at the declaration. What now?
“Oh? Let’s hear it, then!”
“I have looked into various published papers on human behaviour and the possible environmental factors that may have an impact on it, and I have deduced that Peter Parker’s tendency to hide his injuries and downplay his struggles are identical to your documented traits.”
It took a visible minute for Mr Stark to realise what transpired, and when he did, he let out an outraged screech that would have put a whole colony of bats to shame.
Peter sucked in his cheeks.
“Are you implying I’m a bad influence on the kid, FRIDAY?”
“No, I’m saying that you and Peter are in the same boat, and both of you panic when the other gets hurt yet none of you do anything to set an example for the other, and since you, Boss, can be argued to be the adult in this relationship—” She bravely ignored Mr Stark’s squeak of protest, and pressed on, “the responsibility of not being a hypocrite, unfortunately, falls on you.” FRIDAY finished with a flourish. Peter could hear the flourish.
A beat of silence.
“That’s it! I’m donating you to City College. How dare you insinuate that I’m a responsible adult. I hate being responsible!”
And that was the point where Peter absolutely and hilariously lost it.
He was soon joined by Mr Stark, who was more giggling than guffawing like Peter. When the titters and the chortles were on the verge of subsiding, FRIDAY played an audio recording of a woman cackling as a representation of her own emotions, and the riot powered up again.
That was, of course, until the door to his room — yes, he had been in the MedBay a sufficient number of times for Mr Stark to designate a room specially for him — was pushed open and a harried May rushed in only to be greeted by the sight of Peter and Tony all but rolling over the floor laughing.
Peter’s ears rang with her screaming for days after that.
#peter parker#tony stark#protective tony stark#sick peter parker#irondad and spiderson#attempted humour#cross-posted on ao3#sassy FRIDAY#tony stark acting as peter parker's parental figure#tony stark is good with kids
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Whatever happens… happens!!
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Here's wishing you a very sassy, sexy, silly, spectacular Friday!!!!
Make it a great one!
~beccawise7💜🖤
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He really said "criminal offensive side eye" in this scene. Jason was really a sass king here
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Good afternoon noon ☀️
Let’s have a Good Friday 🥳
Make sure to include me on your nightly routines👅
#happy friday#hey you#sassy girl#sweet girl#praise k!nk#pierced tiddies#afterdarksquad#luna girl#girls who smoke weed#big tiddy committee#goddess worship#yes sir#k bye
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Pls reblog so we can crown the sass queen 👑🙄💋
#friday night smackdown#damage ctrl#wwe smackdown#wwe raw#monday night raw#friday night kota#friday nights run on tiffy time#tiffy time#tifanny#Dakota Kai#monday night green#tiffany stratton#chelsea green#sassy#crown the queen of sass#wwe
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Friday ✔️ Lunchtime ✔️ Fishnet✔️ 💕 Vv xo #fishnetfriday
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Nero Fox-husky is now up for sale by his owner as a full plantigrade fursuit. Fits up to 6'3" tall 200lbs. Comes with eyelids, tongues and interchangeable tails. Unfortunately the feetpaws are missing, so he will be sold without feetpaws UNLESS the auction reaches $3200 where a new pair will be made for the suit in the buyer's size. If the auction doesn't go that high, unfortunately feetpaws aren't included, since they were misplaced at some point.
Bids starting at $1800! check it out! Ends sunday @8pm MST https://www.thedealersden.com/listing/nero-fox-full-plantigrade-fursuit/269302 This suit was created by Thunderhowl Studios in late 2019 as a commission for 'Nero Husky'. The suit was very well kept and cared for, only seeing about a half dozen conventions within its lifetime, and never abused or smoked/vaped in. Minimal contact with any pets. no SPH, nothing sexual done involving the suit whatsoever. The body suit was made by a 3rd party maker in 2022 and received very recent structural adjustments and edits for a more universal fit. New owner can keep the character design, but the old owner prefers if the name is changed to something else. Selling Reason: The previous owner of the suit (who is typing this- hi!) is moving across the country in one week and has to unfortunately part ways to offset moving costs. I'm saddened to see him go, as I took great care of this suit and sincerely hope that he goes to a good, caring home! Recent updates: Thunderhowl writing this, hi again! So I fully cleaned the head and body this past weekend, got a lot of dirt and stuff out of them. Patched up any loose spots or holes, and adjusted the body a bit to fit better. It being from a third party maker, it had some oddly shaped spots but is fixed now. Nice and fresh and clean and ready to go to his new owner.
#thunderhowlstudios#thunderhowl studios#fursuiting#fursuit#thunderhowl#fursuiter#furry fandom#furry#furries#fursuitforsale#fox fursuit#sassy fursuit#furry art#husky fursuit#orange furry#fursuit maker#fursuit friday#thunderhowlthursday
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Finlay Friday
#julie finlay#finlay friday#rubbery homicide#csi cbs#csi crime scene investigation#this guy was not the vibe#the subtitles cut off for her classic line so insert dialogue instead#love a sassy queen
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Makes the day different when you get all dressed up
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We really gotta do something about the scourge that is daylights savings because boy it's got me fucked up this time
#I'm so fucking tired hhhhh#and THEN my boss tried to be like ooh why wasn't this thing done on Friday wehwehweh#because that's NOT in the PROCEDURE to be DONE YET#today is NOT the day to get sassy with me!!!!!
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FireStar Peach Incorrect Quotes that simplify her relationship with some characters
FireStar Peach: You kill people for money?! Pico: I can explain! FireStar Peach: And all this time I’ve been trying doing it for free like a chump! ------------- FireStar Peach: Why are you still with that fat plumber? Horror Peach: Because I love him. Horror Peach: We are a match made in Hell, one might say... FireStar Peach, helping her be one again: Girl, he cut you in half like 10 minutes ago for interrupting him in his song. FireStar Peach: That's not healthy. FireStar Peach, grabbing her shoulders: Leave him. Date a girl or something. -------------- Racist Mario: FireStar Peach: EAT FIREBALL,YOU DICK. -------------- @chaosverse-mainblog @misterah13
#Super Mario Bros#Mario EXE#Mario EXE OC#Princess Peach#FireStar Peach#Friday Night Funkin#Marios Madness#FireStar is a sassy bitch and i love her for it
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me: i have so!! much!! work!!!!! to get done before holiday break aghhh
also me: *lying in bed on tumblr*
#there's one thing that i am wayyyy procrastinating on because the person was being extremely sassy with me#i don't want to deal with them before i get to sign off on friday
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Thanks Bill, now we finally know what actually happened to Pope John Paul I!
what are you two TALKING about
#Popes#probably heretical jokes#The pope#jokes#pope memes#pope John Paul I#vatican jokes#gravity falls memes#bill is the best he would NEVER unleash the nightmare dimension!#*my mouth gets inverted and I spontaneously combust for my mortal foolishness*#He’s just so cool#I really like campy overtly evil villains who love being horrible and crack sassy jokes about it#It’s a breath of fresh air amidst a sea of emo grimdark tragic villains that are so annoyingly prevalent nowadays#The coolest villains are the ones who drink eyeball martinis every Friday and play evil villain songs at every opportunity#Villains like that are just so fun and evidence shows that everyone loves those types of characters#but yeah#dorito man
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(via "Warning: Sarcasm Expert Here" Classic T-Shirt for Sale by DigitalDreams04)
#findyourthing#redbubble#redbubble artist#redbubble store#tshirt#classic tshirt#sarcasm#friday night funkin#tshirt humor#humor#sarcastic#sassy#apparel#clothing#print design#humor apparel#witty#warning#meme
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