#it's been a few days therefore it's time for another tech lives post

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

You know the one point above all others that leaves me convinced Bad Batch season 3 underwent some massive rewrites?

The time skip in episode 1.

Now, the time skip could have worked fine if there had been any attempt later in the season to meaningfully follow up on the vital conversations that apparently took place during said time skip. But that's not what happened.

And I have too much confidence in the writers' vision/abilities to believe they originally intended to use the time skip the way it ended up being used: to completely gloss over the aftermath of Tech's fall to the point that the audience is left wondering - maybe Tech's family/friends have already processed it and moved on? Or maybe they haven't?? Who knows! Let's leave it super vague all season long and have the audience interpret it as they will! Pick your preferred grieving method and tell yourself that's what all these characters did during the time lapse, or if that doesn't work for you then just "something something stoic soldiers."

To give a clear example of what the writers are capable of: Mayday has the distinction of being recognized as THE tipping point to Crosshair finally turning on the Empire and later is given a satisfying, if heartwrenching, callback scene that decisively provides closure for his loss. Remember, Mayday is a character in ONE episode. Just ONE. In the grand scheme of the show, he probably qualifies as a tertiary character. Crosshair knows him for, what, 2 days at most? And yet Mayday is still definitively recognized as a key influential figure in Crosshair's life.

I love Mayday. He deserves all the recognition and more. I bring all this up simply to compare to how the show handles Tech's death, especially for Crosshair.

Tech is Crosshair's brother, was raised with him from birth and lived and worked with him day in and day out for over a decade, and for years they were in life-and-death situations together. Unlike with Mayday, Crosshair wasn't there when Tech died - died on a mission he had pushed for to save Crosshair from consequences of his own choices. Not only was Crosshair not there for Tech in his final moments, but the last time he saw Tech, Crosshair was arguing with him along with the rest of his brothers. Vitally important as Mayday is to Crosshair, Tech is even more so (or should be). Given all this, I'm supposed to believe the writers' grand plan all along was to skip over the critical moment where Crosshair finds out about Tech, spend the rest of the season ignoring all other opportunities to address it, and throw in one line during the finale ("Clone Force 99 died with Tech") that somehow manages to simultaneously deprive us of any semblance of catharsis for Crosshair AND completely miss the point of why Tech had sacrificed himself in the first place??

Nope. I don't believe it. There were forced rewrites on a time crunch. I REFUSE to believe the writers responsible for the near-perfection that is Bad Batch seasons 1-2 would, on their own, so thoroughly botch something as crucial to the show as Crosshair dealing with Tech's (supposed) death. There had to have been some kind of outside interference.

(I am clinging to the theory that the rewrites were part of a bigger plan to save some plot points for continuation in another project; but the point still stands that there had to have been significant rewrites in the first place.)

And since there would have been little to no reason to take out scenes with proper closure for Tech's fall during the rewrites if the original intention was indeed for Tech to be dead, I conclude yet again that Tech isn't actually dead.

I will say this for the time skip: it is what first pushed me into writing Bad Batch fanfiction. So there's that.

[elslittlestories]

Since when our favorite squad has been in active duty ?

Sharing this to add up to @miss-musings 's very detailed analysis of The Bad Batch timeline. If you haven't read the post, I highly recommand it! See link bellow:

Thanks to a piece of dialogue between Wrecker and Tech, we know their last detachment lasted 180 days (205, if you adjust to galatic zones change but I'm not gonna consider that because I want the number of days they actually lived)

Wrecker also tells us that during those 180 days, they executed and succeded 11 missions.

Which gives us an average duration of 16,4 days per mission.

During that scene in the baracks, we also catch a glipse of the board where they keep track of their missions. I've counted 11 groups of 5 tally marks, so 55 missions.

There are 2 possible sources of error here, because 1- I'm assuming the shot pans through the whole board but there could be more marks that we don't see, and 2 -Since it's been said they have a 100% rate of success in The Clone Wars episodes, I consider it's stil the case and that all the missions are marked on the board

With the average lenght of 16,4 days per mission, that leads us to 902 days. So roughtly

2,5 years

(Note: it is my understanding that a standard year in Star Wars is 368 days, so really close to our year)

From Wookepedia, I place the event surrounding order 66 and the creation of the Empire and therefore the first episode of The Bad Batch in the middle of the year 19BBY

"The anniversary of the Empire's creation was celebrated yearly, on the twenty-third day of the fifth month using the Great ReSynchronization (GrS) dating system based on Coruscant."

Clone Force 99 would have been promoted and sent in active duty at the beginning of year 21BBY.

To try and place it in the Clone wars timeline, that would be about a year after the battle of Geonosis (beginning of the war) but before the attack on Kamino that lead to 99's death (TCW S3E2 Arc Troopers).

I like that because I headcanon the Domino squad was propably training on Kamino around the same time and that they are close in age. I'd like to think they got to interact together thanks to 99...

Let me know if you think this make sense or if you came up with another number!

[mewlabu]

My first few hours online:

"Leftists" and tankies attacking a Ukrainian in Canada for saying she's not into Russian culture at the moment re Nabokov, because she's in Canada and therefore a colonizer.

Photos and news I'd a young man who has been risking his life receiving Russian and Ukrainian bodies from the field so they can be returned, while Russians leave their dead behind, being killed in Bahmut.

Another attack by Russian rmisiles on residential areas with dead counts not finalized because the search for people continues

The UN released a statement about not punishing Russian athletes by denying them participation in the Olympics next to the news that a Ukranian who would have gone to the Olympics died just a few days earlier.

A Russian musician, and known supporter of Putin and the invasion, is invited to perform in a European country even after outcry and withdrawal of Ukranian performers from the festival.

More "anti-imperialist" and "leftists" screaming about their taxes funding tanks for Ukraine and framing any help to Ukraine in defending itself as somehow the greatest evil of our times.

A Russian propagandist is gang raped by Kadyrovites while covering the war, and NAFO guys flood someone's mentions making rape jokes no matter how many times Ukranians tell them it's not ok.

Switzerland giving Russia back billions in frozen assets. Austria and Hungary refusing to send any help. Discovery of multiple ways in which Russia is avoiding the meager sanctions and continues to access tech supplies to keep building their weapons.

Images of villages turned to dust. News of a possible renewed offensive in spring while the rest of the world kept debating providing Leapords only to finally agree to when it's going to take half a year to train and deliver them and so may not be soon enough.

Folks fundraising for specific battalions talking about how much harder it's getting because instagram, twitter block their posts or deboost them and people are getting bored and the reporting on the war is moving off front pages for much of the world.

Kids being forced to go to military boot camps in occupied areas with parents threatened to lose custody if they refuse.

Daily lists of young artists, teachers, tech experts, engineers, writers, parents, farmers, a whole future of a nation killed daily and being told to be more sympathetic to the ones who came to kill them.

Seeing Western talking heads give Navalny more passes on his nationalism and racism while writing reams of op eds about how unreasonable Ukraine is to want it's language protected.

Articles about poor Miss. Russia complaining people were avoiding her at Miss Universe and Miss Ukraine didn't want to take a selfie with her.

It's too much sometimes and I don't even have to live with air raids anymore or hide in a bomb shelter on top of it all too.

Millions aren't so lucky.

[zee-writes-and-draws]

Normal world AU where the different buildings are just random groups of people and all of them ended up moving to the small village near the supposedly ‘haunted’ mountain that Samon and Enki grew up on bc property values are low as shit, and all of the minors are adopted by the guards. Qi has basically just grabbed Upa and Liang and ran the hell away from the Chinese mafia. Samon sees this random man dragging two half-dead children with him and this is now the very first time any of the new residents of the village find out the ‘hauntings’ that lowered property values were just a teenage Enki post massive growth spurt and a very small and over-energetic Samon that haven’t been seen in well over a decade.

- Hajime has, unfortunately, agreed to look after Jyugo and Nico while Rock and Uno try to find legal jobs, but it’s a lot on him. He and Seitarou help Uno and Rock fight a case to get custody of the two minors. Yamato is helping Tsukumo get a restraining order against his former agent and various paparazzi, as well as going to therapy so he doesn’t constantly feel the need to put on a persona in front of others. Hajime is a teacher at the local school (since there’s a decent number of local kids and then the building children), Yamato is the school’s coach, and Seitarou sells uniforms/cute festival stuff but is also occasionally seen working with the age 7 and below kids because they’re all very small and nice.

- Kiji is trying to cure Honey of his anger management issues and Trois of his pyromaniac tendencies. His day job is making and testing makeup that everyone buys, like mascara and eyeliner and hair gel. His second in command is working in one of the other small shops, selling everyone clothes (he and Seitarou make the clothing together).

- Kenshirou is only here because some of his dogs are sick and this village has been weirdly good for their health. Along the way he lets Musashi and Hitoshi stay with him because they help on chores and the dogs love both of them very much. He helps with the local stray problem by opening a shelter and rehabilitating most of them (the few who can’t be fixed to near-perfect health are still loved and cared for). Hitoshi bakes lots of food and sells it at Shiro’s restaurant, which is also why his presence is appreciated. Musashi tutors online part-time after Mitsuru rigged up wifi for them. Between all three of their jobs they can afford a place that’s small but has four tiny rooms so each person can a private space. (They sleep in the living room that’s been transformed into the group bedroom).

- Mitsuru is considered the local nuisance in so many ways, but after all of his loudspeakers and amplifiers have been confiscated he’s forced to resort back to regular hand-made instruments, so he at least gets to learn something entertaining as he irritates everyone with his noise-making. He and Momoko live in the same house but there’s a line drawn on the inside and outside that splits the house in half so everyone realizes in all of ten seconds they’re not actually together together, just saving on rent as long-term friends. Momoko works on managing the more official stuff to keep the town from being erased. She’s the unofficial (until the next election of course) mayor of the town at this point. Mitsuru’s day job is rigging up stuff like wifi and helping Hajime with his shop class at the high school.

- Shiro moved here after hearing how wonderful the cuisine is. He approves of being able to gather fresh ingredients on the mountain. Rock is frequently seen at his restaurant, both as a customer and as a worker. Hitoshi was recruited within a week. (Hajime has some mixed feelings but Rock mostly stops acting like an idiot after the first day, so it works out well)

- Inori and Ruka moved here years ago (and dragged the Daisen brothers with them) and are pretty much the only residents who were here before everyone started moving out and the buildings moved in. They’re the only ones initially who know the story behind the hauntings and never shared it out of indifference. Inori works in construction of new buildings/clearing rubble from the old, the Daisen trio help train the different sports teams at the school, and Ruka technically co-owns the makeup business with Kiji but his preferred job is as an unofficial swimming instructor because the two of them don’t get along.

- Samon and Enki bring the village supplies and materials from the mountain and trade this way. Samon has a notable weakness for ice pops, popsicles, and zakuro shaved ice, which he gets to surprise Enki on days it seems like he might want it. The new residents are all pleasantly surprised by how sweet Noriko is. Shiro offers her a job after trying some of her desserts. She bakes on weekends and holidays only to avoid overexerting herself, but the rest of the time her jobs include checking people in, taking orders to Shiro and Rock, and keeping peace if someone starts arguments. Houzuki is the area acupuncture specialist and medic until the Otogi family moves in, but he switches to full time acupuncture and massage therapy after they take up the practice. (they’re better than him at medicine anyways and he’s ok with admitting it).

- Liang and Upa love training on the mountain. Rock joins them frequently, often chatting with Liang as they race up. Qi is marginally less interested in physical activity, but he’s willing to make the hike up with them because of the amazing plant both during the hike and at the arrival itself. In the long run, doing some exercise in this form helps him with his mental health a lot and makes him happier. Tsukumo joins occasionally and talking to Qi helps him gradually come out of his shell.

- Trois takes to the challenge of trying to be constructive in building things instead of weapons and explosives. The downside is he frequently teams up with Mitsuru (who has the most equipment necessary) and therefore there are unique ways of getting around the idea of non-destructive inventions. Honey figures out ways to get Mitsuru his speakers back on the condition that he can use the wiring for his capsules.

- Nico ends up really sad about the lack of wifi so he tries to work with Mitsuru to improve tech, but he’s got a hard time reading the manuals so now Musashi, accompanied by either Uno or Trois depending on the day, can be seen teaching Nico how to read instruction manuals.

- Yamato is still very proud of his Japanese heritage, but he also frequently encourages others to appreciate the culture they live in and the culture they came from. Thanks to him, there’s a small festival hosted each year where everyone brings something like food or games or clothing from their culture and share it with everyone.

- Kiji takes it as a personal challenge to help teach normal world culture to at least one of the Gokuu brothers. Enki is far less willing to go along with the idea that he needs help from someone, so it’s Samon. Inori, who had a similar idea for the last eleven years, is currently trying to teach Samon how to drive. It’s yielding mixed results, but he takes really well to motorbikes. Hajme and Samon have a brief ceasefire whenever the subject of motorcycles comes up.

- No one is allowed to bring up the time that Hajime got lost in the mountain. No  one.

- Kuu comes and goes as he pleases. Mostly he stays at Hajime’s house but sometimes he’ll somehow appear wherever Samon Enki and Noriko are presently staying and lies down in the lap of whoever is trying to meditate. Enki tries to ignore Kuu (and fails), Samon will give him small scritches and complain about Hajime in a quiet tone, and Noriko feeds and pets him.

- In their spare time, many of the adults critique the prison systems they rescued the others from. Kiji, Hajime, and Kenshirou work with Enki to fix things on a bureactraic level, frequently accompanied by Momoko when she isn’t a sole representative in front of various international governments. Hajime knows the prison model perfectly, Kenshirou understands the police aspect that ties into it, and Kiji has several decades of experience serving as a prison guard, and their combined knowledge leads to many of their proposals being pushed pretty far up the ranks. 

- Samon is working on fixing prisons on the level of how each inmate is treated. All the official and formal changes in the world don’t change that there’s also issues with inmates not receiving care, sufficient entertainment, decent things for purchase and not just whether or not they can afford them, all sorts of stuff that slips past the cracks in the paperwork. He’s also the one who’s pushing for  more rehabilitation programs with Kiji and Mitsuru’s help. Between Samon’s knowledge of physical needs of people, Kiji’s balanced addition of general knowledge of what kind of education and paperwork prisoners need for proper rehabilitation to stick, and Mitsuru’s experience in communication, they have a very solid structure. Mitsuru’s ability to middleman and talk to Momoko also helps push their ideas forward.

- Slowly the buildings become more friendly towards one another. Upa smiles more because Nico helped him get out of his shell, there is a photo of Tsukumo laughing as himself for the first time hanging on the wall of Shiro’s restaurant, and Kenshirou’s dogs all adopted different humans to befriend and bond with. Qi gradually gets over his fear of dogs thanks to Musashi and ends up adopting one who works as a service dog for him and keeps him away from panic attacks and self-harming attempts, as well as (gradually) learning how to tell what kind of health Upa and Liang are presently in and alerting the doctor if necessary.

- The time-honored tradition of feuds between the different non-inmates and adults in charge of them continues, but they added in some new competitions. There are now options for multi-building tug-of-war, kids vs adults (and variations) relays, one v one competitions, and general tomfuckery. Most of the time Momoko is the referee, Mitsuru commentates, and although they rarely join in, they tend to tag-team and secure a near-effortless victory. If it’s every person for themselves, Momoko wins unless distracted by Hajime, at which point the rule of funny is frequently used to determine a victor.

[felassan]

DA4 Lead Producer Scylla Costa’s BIG Festival talk, “Challenges of Dragon Age production during the pandemic”, can currently be rewatched on YouTube here starting roughly at timestamp 8:57:02 after a lil presenter blurb/intro. It’s 1 hour long. When it was streamed live, there was an English translation ‘voiceover’. There isn’t in this vid, however I want to post the link for Portuguese speakers, and also it’s neat for everyone to be able to see all the slides he presented with for themselves in context.

I don’t know if an English-language version will get put up so I’m sharing the notes I took during the talk below, in case anyone’s interested and because I might as well since I wrote them. The rest of this post is under a cut due to length.

Edit: Found a place to re-watch the English version of the talk

(Quick note: I didn’t note down everything, mostly things that caught my interest, so this isn’t exhaustive, and when I was watching I was real tired, so pls bear that in mind and don’t take these notes as bullet-proof 100% accurate gospel or direct quotes. If you watched it and think I’ve written down something wrong/misunderstood, let me know and I’ll fix. Also if you’re a Portuguese speaker and I’ve gotten something incorrect or missed something important etc, again just let me know.) **

** Edit: I’ve now gone through my notes while watching the talk again. I’ve filled in some of the gaps (although they still don’t cover everything said) and so forth, and now I’m no longer worried about there being possible errors in this post.

-----

For some context, this slide contained the breakdown of the talk’s structure. Bear in mind there are other slides present in the talk than the ones I’ve posted here, I didn’t include caps of all of them, just ones which were of note to me.

In the talk, chief Producer Scylla goes over challenges of DA4 production during the pandemic. He discusses the adaptations - necessary skills and learning from remote work - and he ponders on the future of teamwork.

After the launch of ME3 he became a producer, all his MMO and other experience helped a lot. He was on DAI for 3 years and MEA for 9 months, then Anthem. Today, on DA4, Scylla and another Lead Producer were the heads of the whole project, and there is his boss is the Executive Producer Christian Dailey. 

^ the usual AAA game development cycle (brief introduction)

AAA games are games that are launched for several platforms simultaneously. 

In BioWare’s case, the pre-production phase of the game development cycle can have from 5 - 30 people, and up to almost 60 people when they’re just about to go through the gate to production. 

In the pre-production phase, they go through the game’s concepts and prototypes and start developing systems. They seek the game’s concept and focus, and its key features. They do lots of market research. In the case of BioWare, all their games are strong in narrative, so they have lots of tools related to game narratives and supporting the development of a narrative (cinematic design, dialogue system etc) that get focused on in this phase. Other parts of the team such as writers and cinematic design need these systems to do their own roles. 

In BioWare’s case, the pre-production phase through to launch can take 4 - 6 years, but it does depend on the size of the team during development.

With regards to Dragon Age 4, they were coming close to the time when they would shift from pre-production to the production stage when the pandemic hit.

During the production phase is when the development of content and features takes place, with the systems mostly already existing from the pre-production phase. A few new systems may be developed in this phase. In the production phase is when things start escalating, and the team really starts growing, to like 2- or 3-fold the prior pre-production phase size. 

(DA4 is currently in the production phase.)

In the alpha phase, features have to be fully implemented and systems all have to be running / working. All the game features should already be in the game by now. They test from pre-production onwards, but this phase is when they run heavy technical tests with lots of players trying to play at the same time. In the beta phase, the idea is that you should now have full content and that now you’re balancing it and running more and lots of different tests with players before launch. There are final tweaks and then the final launch, when in the weeks prior to launch, all the different business units and areas e.g. marketing team, technology team, publishing team, get together once a day and all of the game’s issues are reported and brought to the table to be prioritized. Then they decide the next steps re: these issues (this is known as ‘the war room’).

After the launch there are usually patches like day zero patches and other patches, this being standard industry practise. The last stage is the new content stage where there are DLCs and a game with more content.

On March 12th 2020, the team gathered to review the DA4 story in the new office. Everyone was very excited. (They had spent over 10 years in their last building and had noticed that with the team growing they needed more space. In August 2019 they found the new studio in the city center.)

Anyway that evening, they got an email from the CEO which contained instructions and said that due to the pandemic, they should from now all start working remotely. They had known that this happening was a possibility so they had been planning on how to have all the devs working from home, but initially less than 50% of the devs were able to work from home successfully/efficiently due to various issues e.g. you need a VPN to be able to log in remotely to do your job normally, varying home office setups. The day after this, the office was basically deserted, except for Scylla, the IT infrastructure people and one or two odd devs.

Scylla was part of the team that was working on allowing the devs to work from home. They first started looking at the short-term changes they needed to make to allow this.

“First, take care of our developers”. 

When the pandemic first hit, their and Scylla’s [as Lead Producer] first priority was to look after the devs. Many of them are parents (schools and day-cares were shut, children were studying from home), others have relatives living with them, others have other personal circumstances which of course need to be taken into account when it comes to assessing what needs to be taken into consideration for this new scenario. So, they looked at each dev on a case-by-case basis in order to evaluate, speaking to each one and asking them what they could do to support them.

One of the first changes/adaptations they could implement was flexible working hours and flexibility around deadlines. Generally speaking the devs got a lot of support, EA was really good and really supported the devs especially in the first months of the pandemic (and they are still supporting them). Initially not all devs had suitable office spaces at home, some were working from the living room from laptops or at the kitchen table. The whole covid situation basically just happened over night and nobody was really ready to deal with that change. So their first step was to enable their devs to work remotely. As a producer, Scylla’s main task is to communicate with the team such as via a number of daily meetings. He doesn’t depend so much on powerful hardware.

“Enable developers to work remotely”.

This slide shows some of a BioWare audio team. Different teams have varying and specific needs in order to do their jobs and therefore in order to do them remotely. For example, the audio team need good-quality speakers and amplifiers, while the lighting and art teams need other specific equipment such as tablets and large screens. So there was a lot of work they had to do to go through each dev to understand their individual needs and what needed to be done for them. ‘Could they download the builds? Did they have the right performance [tech-wise]? Could they submit their changelists, their codes to the server?’

Some devs needed a more powerful internet connection as it would take 6-8 hours to download a build (some devs live rurally). Some needed a lot of cable, as they were working far away from their routers (sometimes up to 50m). As time went by things got better and better. 

The chair devs work from is also important; a kitchen able chair etc is not suitable to sit in for long-term desk work, possibly leading to health issues like back ache and blood circulation problems in the legs.

Every 3 months they had money given to help devs buy new mice, keyboards, monitors - anything they needed really in order for their office setting at home to be improved. For a while, because lots of people [generally, in society] were needing and buying them, it was quite hard to buy things like webcams and microphones.

On mid- and long-term changes:

In terms of DA, we have to look at this from 2 perspectives, the change in the personal and the professional environments. 

As a consequence of working from home, people tend to be less active during the day (even in an office, you go between meeting rooms, up and down stairs etc). Physical activity supports life quality and therefore work quality. Scylla noticed that he began to feel listless and such, and found that he needed to change his routine that he had initially developed when he started working from home, for example; having a normal start time (as in, have a semblance of structure in your day as if you were still working in the office site), get dressed at the normal time, not having meetings over lunch etc. This wasn’t just him, lots of other devs encountered this and had this experience too. Devs which adapted faster had better productivity and became more productive faster.

Scylla bought a stand-up desk which he can raise up and down, and at meetings he would be delivering a talk while standing or even while walking on a treadmill. Other devs also got stand-up desks. He tracked his body’s data on a Fitbit. These sorts of things helped improve physical and mental wellbeing. Other devs did similar things, like starting going out for jogs or began practising yoga. Essentially, everyone needed to make changes to their daily routine in comparison to what they had been doing prior to the pandemic. 

The pandemic has been a thing for over a year now. In their location, every couple of weeks a new restriction is put into place or a rule is changed, and every two weeks there’s a new thing that you can and can’t do. Scylla also started moving around his property. He worked on his desk, fixed it up and painted - taking up a new hobby. Other devs picked up new hobbies too. These are good ways to be active and also to be somewhere else, i.e. to break up the working day and not be spending it all in one home office-type location. Scylla found that when he made these sorts of changes to his routine to improve his lifestyle, the data output by his Fitbit as indicators of his health/wellbeing etc improved, e.g. number of steps taken in a day, heartbeats per minute while at rest. As stated many of the other devs went through a similar process.

On the professional side of things:

They had to improve remote delivery of builds. Accessing things from home as a dev requires a VPN. They need to download a build every day and then upload it to the server after making their changes to the game. They had to work with infrastructure and research other tech, such as streaming tech to allow remote console access, in order to better facilitate this process. For remote access, they also had to work on adapting communications channels.

“Adapting channels of communication.”

In this slide, the team are working on the storyboards. Before you can implement motion capture & performance capture, you have to ‘run the storyboards’ like this. These are small illustrating drawings which reflect the drafts and are meant to quickly reflect the intention of the scenes that are to be built. Before the pandemic, the team would go to meeting rooms like this, sit down, talk and interact in person. After the pandemic, the question became ‘How do you do this over Zoom?’ You can, but it’s not quite the same; it’s harder to see peoples’ expressions, some people are embarrassed speaking over Zoom etc. Therefore they had to adapt their communications systems, and unlearn the ways in which they developed before in order to relearn and learn new ways of communicating.

Slack was a tool that they adopted on this front. Communications channels can be confusing on Slack, so there was a need to develop structure. For example, how quickly should someone reply (as a recommended convention for the purposes of work)? They had to define the process/procedures for the channels so it was clear for the team as a whole how it would all flow (this is important especially if you have a team with say 30 people or as a whole hundreds of people). Before the pandemic, they had stand-up meetings where they’d go around in a circle every morning and talk about their activities - what they’re going to be working on, any roadblocks they had encountered etc. The question arose ‘How do you replace these?’ They ended up doing Slack messages at a certain time of day and updating their statuses with some details on what they’re working on and color-coding (green - fine, yellow - need help, red - busy/blocked out).

Another issue that they faced was unforeseen - the number of meetings that devs were having really shot through the roof. When there wasn’t a good structure of communications channels, any conversation would become a meeting. Everybody began scheduling meetings left and right, and at the end of the day they would have little time left in which to actually work on their to-do lists. Hence, they had to work with the team to really analyze and be very pragmatic. ‘Which meetings needed to happen? Which didn’t? Is a specific meeting really necessary? Which meetings should be recurring? What can be done over Slack?’ This guideline had to be given to the team to help, and it improved things a lot. The number of meetings decreased a lot and they got more effective. For example, by making sure to set an agenda for meetings beforehand, and by having meeting notes (then a dev who didn’t really need to be at a meeting could skip attending and just quickly review the notes output after instead). They also decreased the standard length of meeting times from the default Outlook blocks of 1 hour and 30 mins to 55 mins and 25 mins respectively. This 5 minute change gave devs time for things like bio breaks (also 4 hours in a row at a computer in a home office with one meeting after another just isn’t good for a person).

“Adapting p-cap and mocap”.

On content:

From a content point of view, the most difficult thing in terms of the pandemic was adapting p-cap and mocap (performance capture and motion capture). They hire actors and it’s a large studio. The pandemic meant big limits to what they could and couldn’t do. The actors had to be masked and 5 meters apart in distance (although it doesn’t look like it in some of these shots due to angles). Also there could be no other person around in the studio - only the actors. The directors instead would ‘patch’ in remotely on big screens (you can see this in the second photo in the top right). 

Before the pandemic, they felt that they wouldn’t be able to do p-cap or mocap properly remotely, as the directors would usually stand right next to actors giving guidance on their performance. The techs would also usually be near. But they adapted! The keyword is adapting, changing process. It’s harder and it’s different, but it is possible, and people start rethinking what is possible. What was said to be impossible before now is possible.

P-cap differs to mocap in that it also captures voice and facial expressions.

On the future of work after covid:

There will probably be more working from home and more flexibility for workers e.g. being able to work say 3 out of 5 days from home. It does depend on what a dev’s specific job is however. For example, the audio engineers require lots of specialist equipment and said equipment is of higher quality and quantity in the office. So, depending on role, devs might be working more often or less often from home.

Another development is that lots of devs are moving house. In lockdown etc people started reassessing what’s most important in life. Some are moving further away from the studio to get a cheaper rent or for example couples who both needed an office space to work from home from but their current place only had one area. Others are moving closer to nature for a better quality of life, and still others have other different reasons for doing so. Over 10 devs that he knows in fact have recently moved, including Scylla himself.

The pandemic changed certain skills being used by people on a daily basis. Scylla used as an example of this one of his soft skills, being able to tell from looking/interacting in-person with someone if they are stressed out. Obviously it’s less easy to tell if someone is stressed out when you’re remote, so you adapt different ways of checking in with people in the new situation. To continue carrying out his role as Lead Producer, he began checking in with his team pro-actively on the new comms channels and asking how they were doing.

Also, now that companies are more open to working remotely, there is going to be increased competition for hiring devs. They saw both sides of this coin at BioWare. They were able to hire devs from many places that they couldn’t hire from before e.g. Montreal, Vancouver, the US, as there’s less need for devs to relocate to Edmonton or Austin. This opens up opportunities to hire really intelligent and skilled people that they would not have had access to before.

Question and answer segment:

The pre-production phase has been concluded. They’re in the production phase.

They are not giving out a lot of details yet but Scylla is really excited as a big fan of the whole series. He thinks that with DA4, they will have the opportunity/possibility to launch the best story out of all DA games. He feels that the characters they’re making are amazing. He’s dying to say more but can’t. 

When you work from home you need to keep your team as productive as possible. During the pandemic, when people started working from home, they noticed that some people became more productive and some people became less productive. They were analyzing it on a case-by-case basis so as not to make assumptions. They were interested in seeing what they could do to help. At the beginning of the pandemic, they were looking at the devs as people and seeing what they needed.

Production of DA4 still needed to continue during the pandemic because they want to be able to launch the game.

This slide shows a writer. Writing is an example of a role which is more able to work from home easily.

Their productivity did go down in the first month of the pandemic. After adaptations, some people then became more productive than they were before (this was role and personal situation-dependent, examples of this being artists and coders who were able to art and code at home without being interrupted, thereby being able to produce more). Covid has affected productivity in general, but this is part of our new reality. They have adapted and adjusted some deadlines. They have enough data (Scylla LOVES data) now to understand how long it will take them/how long they’ll need to launch the game. They have always had historical data for this purpose, but they’re doing more of this sort of thing now to ensure that they are doing things at the right time.

Remote hiring opens up the door to more talent joining, so if someone has talent geography will hold them back less. Some companies though may choose not to hire people from other countries due to labor issues, cumbersome legal aspects, time zones. But even in such cases there are activities for example that can be carried out while the rest of the team is asleep such as testing or working on the build, or there are cases where those companies still will want to hire a specifically/highly talented person even in spite of the potential legal aspects and so on.

On mental health: People were affected. There is the mental, physical and social impacts of the pandemic situation on people. EA supported them during the pandemic in terms of their mental wellbeing, there are specific companies (services offered, speaking to a therapist) that they can contact if they need something or help. EA had always been good at supporting them with this sort of thing but this has improved further during the pandemic. Another change was that they could/can take a couple of days off if they needed/need to because of the pandemic e.g. to take care of children, who were obviously not at school at the time. As a producer he had to be very mindful of all of this. How much they were monitoring peoples’ wellbeing really went up during the pandemic.

A question that was asked - in terms of DA4′s storybeats, is there anything in there that they decided to change due to the pandemic as it wouldn’t be sensitive or appropriate to include anymore, for example a plague plotline or something? Scylla’s answer is that DA and ME are games in which they try to have narratives that are relatable, which include things which people will identify with, so that players understand what characters are going through etc. Nothing in DA4′s plotline/storybeats has been changed (in the frame of this question, relating to the pandemic), as it didn’t have anything in it that could be specifically or a directly connected to a pandemic-type situation or anything. Of course the DA story has Blights and the Taint, but these are different & fantastical things and existed long before the pandemic situation. So this wasn’t the case with DA4 and there was no need to change anything, but this has happened to other games where they decided to change a storyline due to a strong correlation with something in the real world.

There were then concluding/closing remarks. The message he wants to send is that a crisis will always spark opportunities. Look at a crisis and try to see how you can grow.

-----

[☕ found this post interesting or useful? my ko-fi is here if you feel inclined. thank you 🙏]

[joezworld]

📂

What in the HECK happened with Scotsman, Dominion, and Dwight during the Great Gathering?!

(Also, since Dutchess of Hamilton has also been to the US during the 1939 NY World’s Fair, did she get involved?)

Warning - extremely long post below

So, first of all, Duchess of Hamilton never went back to the UK.

Duchess of Hamilton (6229) and Coronation (6220) had their nameplates swapped by the LMS when an engine was sent over to the US. 6229, in the guise of 6220, went to the US.

Streamlined locomotives were all the rage at the time, and railroads practically fell over themselves to get Coronation (as she was now known) onto press trains. The B&O railroad in particular was so impressed with her capabilities that they extended a formal offer of employment to her for service on their streamlined Royal Blue service. The LMS were surprised to get an offer to "purchase" their locomotive, but accepted nonetheless, as it meant a welcome infusion of cash in the dark days during the beginning of WWII.

Coronation fit right in with the Americans, having only been about a year old when she was sent to New York. Following the end of steam traction on the Royal Blue in the late 40s, (the B&O were early adopters of diesels.) she and her B&O coworkers found good employment on the New York Central, where she still runs to this day.

Since then, she's fully "gone native", marrying a J3 Hudson, (yes one of the streamlined ones) adopting both an American accent and three children, and being fully repainted to NYC silver by 1956. Flying Scotsman met her in Albany in 1970, and neither one of them recognized the other.

Actually, most UK expats don't recognize her, to the point where a common interaction is for her to be held up as an example of "look at her, she's integrated well into the US", only for the British engines to say "that's preposterous, she isn't English".

When it's pointed out that she's still obviously an LMS Coronation, the next response is usually screaming.

All that being said, she has no interest to come back to the United Kingdom, and wasn’t asked by the NRM anyways. 

---------------

Second of all, the Great Gathering was... an event.

So, there are (officially) 6 preserved Gresley A4s.

Mallard - static, National Railway Museum (UK). Also an asshole.

Bittern - running, private owner, UK based

Sir Nigel Gresley - running, owned by a trust, UK based

Union of South Africa - running, private owner, UK based

Dwight D. Eisenhower - static (officially), National Railway Museum (USA)

Dominion of Canada - static (officially), Exporail (Montréal)

This is the official list, and for the first 4 engines, it's the truth.

However, things are a bit hazier on the other side of the Atlantic...

-----

So the thing that needs to be made clear right up front that in a sentient vehicle world, museums aren't like the NRM, where locomotives sit static for years on end, although obviously the English have museums like that because of course they do.

Rail museums in the rest of the world are much more like Colonial Williamsburg - a living history center staffed by volunteers who act out a prototypical setting from [insert decade here].

British Rail, being British Rail, didn’t know that and didn’t care.

-

4496, Dwight D. Eisenhower, having been named after the General-turned-President, had been earmarked for preservation by BR, and was summarily shipped off to the US National Railway Museum in Green Bay, Wisconsin.

In an entirely unintentional move, this donation MONUMENTALLY snubbed the Smithsonian, who refused to have any dealings with BR for decades, even for archival purposes. This, combined with the fallout from Operation Smash Hit, and the fact that the Smithsonian is Petty AF, meant that there was virtually no official trans-Atlantic cooperation between British and US museums for decades.

Dwight hit the shores of the US in 1964 New York City and was greeted by a marching band, a ticker-tape parade, and Presidents Johnson and Eisenhower, who were on-hand to personally make the engine a US citizen.

Always keen to curry favor with the government, the Southern Pacific railroad had a job offer waiting for Dwight right alongside the Presidents and the parade, and when he accepted, he went off to Sunny Southern California - someplace so opposed to Britain the he fell in love with the place immediately and refused to leave!

The ladies may have also had something to do with it as well - while most engine classes fell into a typical 50-50 gender distribution, the SP GS-4 class was all female...

[Pictured above - one of 28 very good reasons to live in California if you're a single British steam engine.]

Dwight does not kiss and tell, but at his wedding in 1974, all 28 GS-4s showed up - and he was only marrying one of them!

Since the 70's, he's become a mainstay in California, having been repainted into Daylight Limited colors in 1969, and retiring from railroad duties in 1999. After that, he went into the movie business, and is currently the head of digital media development at Disney.

His wife Irene (SP 4437) is also an interesting figure as well - following in the wheelmarks of the great female locomotives before her, she had an eye for business and a Stanford education before she married her husband, and was an initial investor in multiple tech companies in Silicon Valley during the 70's and 80's, but stopped doing that after her investment in Apple proved very lucrative. In 1996, she was convinced by a few people in the Stanford Alumni association to invest in another tech startup, this one an "internet search engine" called Google.

So yeah, Dwight Eisenhower kept falling up and up and up all his life, and is now married to the richest woman in the world.

--

4489 Dominion of Canada was donated mostly by accident, having been forgotten in the back of Darlington sheds until 1966, when she was shipped off to the Canadian Railway Historical Society in Montreal.

As stated elsewhere, the Canadian Government considered any locomotive built in the UK to have UK citizenship, and therefore treated them as commonwealth citizens under existing Canadian law. (remember that Canada was still a colony at that time)

CN, the national rail carrier, was obligated to offer her a job under their charter, and she accepted, moving to Toronto to run intercity trains between Toronto, Montreal, and Ottawa.

Within two years she was displaced from those duties by the introduction of a new, shiny, jet turbine powered train, and was summarily demoted to local commuter runs in the Toronto suburbs.

Moving to suburbia did one thing more than anything else - expose her to the people who live there. They all had complaints, they all had problems, and they all had no idea on how to fix them.

Being a helpful sort, Dominion decided that she could help, and promptly ran for Toronto city council in 1974. She won, and has been a fixture in local Toronto politics ever since - she even got to be Chairwoman of Metro Toronto (the closest thing to being mayor because Toronto's governmental structure is weird) until 1998, when Toronto was merged with the surrounding area to create a massive new region.

Having then done everything there is to do in municipal Toronto government, Dominion went on to become the Chief Executive Officer of Metrolinx, the agency that controls almost all of the transit agencies in Ontario, because, as she puts it, "I'm still a commuter engine at heart".

She's now painted in the current GO Transit paint scheme, and still does commuter runs- which is really weird looking now that there are double deck commuter coaches in a push-pull configuration, with a Gresley A4 doing the pushing.

------

Now, I mentioned that those 6 were the only ones officially preserved - there were two unofficial preservations as well...

-

4486 Merlin was properly Shanghied - he was yanked off the docks in Southhampton by a cargo ship in August of 1965, and was spirited away to parts unknown.

Those unknown parts turned out to be South Korea. There, he was given citizenship by the US-aligned military dictatorship (Korean history is wild) and was employed by the State-run rail operator.

As the military government began a hardcore plan to increase their country's wealth and industrial output, rail lines were being built across the country, and Merlin was soon awarded a position on the fastest train in the network, the Seoul-Busan Saemaeul-ho.

Because of his experience in running high-speed express trains, Merlin not only became the public face of Korean high-speed rail, but also became an "honored elder" amongst the other Korean engines, a position he still holds to this day - as despite being over 70 years old, he still runs daily trains on the fast services, easily keeping time with the Korean schedules as well as training the new high speed trains, including the KTX sets. He's on his 24th boiler by now, and has more parts from Hyundai than Doncaster.

An additional fact - Merlin actually has had a linguistic effect on Korean railroading, as his strange amalgamation of an accent - a strong Yorkshire accent that tried to be Received Pronunciation for 30 years, mixed with almost 50 years of middle-to-upper-class Korean - has filtered down through the ranks of KoRail, because all of his students want to sound like him out of respect. Human British expats in Korea will occasionally hear a locomotive speaking in English, and the engine will sound like a Yorkshireman every time and the Brits cannot handle it.

---------

4495 Golden Fleece is the only A4 to preserve himself - he saw the writing on the wall in the early 60s, and hopped a car ferry to France at the end of 1962. From there, he bounced around Europe for a bit before making it to the United States in the late 70's.

Of the 8 surviving A4s, he's probably led the quietest life of all - he moved to Miami before it got nice, and basically got in on the ground floor of CSX when that merger happened in 1980. He's now the head of terminal operations for the Port of Miami, but he's generally kept a low profile - not even having a chance to meet Scotsman due to his time in Europe.

He's still in contact with Dwight and Dominion, and has no real bitterness over not being "famous" like they are - he likes the quiet, and still lives in a modest house in Boynton Beach with his long-term girlfriend.

----------------------

Soooo... the Great Gathering.

It was supposed to be a meeting of the 6 surviving A4s - a two year event held at the NRM in honor of the 75th anniversary of Mallard's record-setting run.

"Record setting" is a past-tense term here. While there have been no official runs, every single one of the Pennsylvania Railroad's T1 and S1 locomotives claim to have gone faster than 126 without meaning to, and numerous other locomotives on unofficial attempts done late at night on flat stretches of land across the country have hit 130+.

British Expats have also done better than 126 - Coronation claims to have hit at least 140 on a midnight mail train in 1980, and in Korea, Merlin claims to have hit 128 on a test train, although that was judged by timing mile markers as his speedometer wasn't functioning properly.

Problems arose before any of the engines had even reached the NRM, as Mallard's already sizeable ego had swelled to massive proportions, and several engines in the great hall were planning a justifiable homicide.

Then came the time restraints - none of the foreign locomotives were willing to uproot their lives and jobs for two years just to sit motionless in a shed. A two year exhibition was eventually negotiated down to a 6 month gala, much to the irritation and confusion of the NRM, who could not understand that the engines were still in service.

Then came the extra engines - Dwight and Dominion thought that the NRM knew about Fleece, and were quite insulted on his behalf when he wasn't invited - they threatened to not attend unless arrangements were made for Fleece to attend as well.

An utterly baffled NRM agreed, but also tore their record archives apart, as they knew that Fleece had been scrapped. The fact that his picture was plastered all over CSX's Florida Division website was all the more confusing as a result.

-

Meanwhile in Busan, nobody knew that Merlin had escaped the scrappers' torch and therefore did not invite him. He was only informed after K-Pop star Psy texted him from London to ask if he knew about the event, which was being advertised on television.

Merlin, having missed his friends from the LNER, decided that he would just crash the party, used some of his many vacation days, and took off for England on a cargo ship.

-

By sheer coincidence, all four foreign A4s hit the dock in Southhampton on the same day, and were delighted to see each other - especially Merlin, considering that everyone else had thought he'd died.

Meanwhile at the NRM, delight was not the word one would use. Befuddled, confused, shocked even, but not delighted. Their plans had revolved around 6 A4s, most of which wouldn’t be running - only to now discover that there were 7, all but one of which were functioning! (Mallard, the star of the show, was the odd one out, and it drove him crazy) 

Then they got a phone call from their man at the docks saying that another one had showed up, looking like he’d driven out of a K-pop album cover, and they just gave up and started screaming. 

-

Screaming is also what happened when the cavalcade of foreigners showed up in York - first of all, the quartet of new engines sounded nothing like they had when they left England. 

Dwight had willfully unlearned his Upper Crust British accent by 1971, and had fallen deep into a California accent (quite similar to what Scotsman sounds like - coincidence? No.)

Dominion and Fleece hadn’t tried to unlearn their accents, but 40+ years of living in North America can really dilute the Britishness. It doesn’t help that Dominion has developed most Canadian vocal tics eh?

As stated above, Merlin has a weird fuckin accent, and now he speaks English with a strong Yorkshire accent, but will occasionally and without warning drop into a Korean/Yorkshire hybrid accent.

The screaming also happened because the NRM had wanted to repaint the duo trio! quartet?! into LNER garter blue, and were promptly informed that “we’re painted like this for work! Don’t touch it!” (the sole exception was Dwight, who hadn’t pulled a real train in 14 years, but he liked his Daylight Limited paint), so instead of the new arrivals showing up in LNER colours, they showed up looking like THIS:

Having their long-lost siblings show up looking and sounding like THAT had quite an affect on the A4s and the other NRM engines: 

Bittern could not believe her eyes - to the point where she actually began making noise about seeing an optometrist

Union of South Africa almost backed through a wall

Sir Nigel Gresley was speechless for two days

Mallard was so angry that he actually chipped a tooth during one of his rants about “the impropriety of it all!!”

Evening Star laughed so hard that he managed to derail himself without moving

City of Truro almost cracked a piston from shock

Alycidon spent the entire gala coming up with more and more laser focused jabs at Mallard - who was so easy to fluster that the Deltic needn’t have bothered 

Oliver Cromwell and Green Arrow made fast friends with the new arrivals, and spent the entire time learning ‘Americanisms’ to annoy the other engines with.

But what about Flying Scotsman? Where was he in all of this? He was generally considered to be the “leader” of the NRM fleet (much to Mallard’s annoyance), and was usually who the other engines turned to when things started getting out of control. 

Did Scotsman calm things down? Like hell he did. The inmates were running the asylum from the moment that Scotsman saw the other A4s - more importantly saw Dwight - and immediately greeted them in flawless Californian. 

This actually set off the building’s security alarm, as Flying Scotsman saying “DUDES! Wassup?!” caused such an uproar that the noise broke several exterior windows. 

----

And all of this was in the first few days - there were six months left to go. 

--

There was one railtour attempt. It was supposed to feature Bittern and Sir Nigel running in tandem, but instead featured Dwight and Merlin, mainly because Bittern wanted to see what would happen. 

They exceeded the max speed limit for steam traction within 15 minutes, sparked a thorough investigation by the RAIB, and got all future steam powered railtours for the Gathering cancelled immediately. 

On the plus side, the two engines did prove that it was still possible for a steam train to hit 100 safely. 

--

One thing that baffled the other engines was the inordinately large number of people who turned up just to see Dominion, and the one person who kept turning up to see Fleece - it took a lot of explaining for them to understand that Dominion had been married three times, and had children (adopted) and grandchildren from all three marriages coming to see her. A similar amount of explaining was required to explain that Fleece’s girlfriend/partner wanted to see him too. 

The normally chatty Dwight and Scotsman would suddenly clam up whenever Dominion and Fleece teasingly tried to ask about their love lives, something which wasn’t unnoticed by the other engines, but got similarly nowhere. 

The answer to why they both shut the hell up was explained when a lot of shouting broke out in the yard of the NRM one day about a month into the exhibition:

Irene Eisenhower, not content to sit in California and count her billions, quickly grew bored without her husband, and decided to go to England and be with him. The fact that she definitely did not fit the UK loading gauge was never even a consideration, and so she just showed up in York on the back of a lorry, having informed no-one of her arrival, and content to just pay off the requisite people if a fuss occurred. 

A fuss did occur, and it was only ended when Scotsman managed to convince the museum’s curator (who at this point in his life was regretting ever thinking of this damned gathering) that Irene was a ‘temporary donation’ to the museum. 

[Scotsman, who definitely hid his Cali accent from museum staff the entire time, has one of the best poker faces in the world]

Dwight was overjoyed, and so was Scotsman, for initially unclear reasons. Then Irene managed to grab both her husband and Scotsman, dragged them behind a shed, and [THIS IS A PG13 HEADCANON] the both of [PG13]. Turns out that while Scotsman may have slept his way across the US a few times, he was actually ready to settle down with Dwight and Irene - they were a throuple way back in the 70s, and those passions haven’t faded. When Scotsman reluctantly left the US in 74, a lot of the reluctance was because of those two. 

This bombshell of a revelation went over interestingly at the NRM. Some engines (Green Arrow) were happy for them, some were incensed (Mallard - although it was for anti-American reasons, not homophobic ones), and some were intensely curious about what was going on in the outside world (Bittern). 

-

The ‘foreigners’ (as Mallard had taken to calling them), were deeply displeased at how their fellow engines were being treated - while a lot of them were ‘in steam’, some were not and might never be again, something they found abhorrent. Unable to do anything at that time, as the NRM was not a for-profit entity and therefore did not have anyone to bribe, (Irene’s solution to things is to throw money at the situation) the engines started talking about how life was different in the outside world - namely that engines were still working hard, even when they were over a century old and running on steam power. 

This was of great interest to engines like Evening Star and (6220) Duchess of Hamilton, neither of whom were likely to be steamed again, and Bittern, who was growing more and more curious with each passing day. Dissent began to slowly build against the NRM curators, and the culture of the United Kingdom in general.

-

One thing the foreigners did try do something about was Ellerman Lines. The poor bastard had been sectioned to show his inner workings, much to the jaw-dropped horror of the foreign A4s, who made such a stink about it that he was moved outside the museum by NRM staff, who must have thought that the engines lacked object permanence or something, because that didn’t make it better!

-

Irene Eisenhower, who was beginning to get really sick of the nonsense that the NRM called preservation, (Scotsman was not in running condition, and had been hastily reassembled mid-overhaul in order to be cosmetically ready for the event, and let’s not forget poor Ellerman Lines) elected to bring the event to a close on her own after only three months. She did this by eventually putting her immense wealth to good use, and called for a haulage service to rescue the engines from the NRM without the knowledge of the museum staff. Aside from the A4s, she also took Ellerman Lines, Scotsman, and Bittern (who had asked to go) with her, and only bothered to inform Ellerman and Bittern - she was not about risk Scotsman having another “think of England” moment and staying. 

The haulage firm was efficient and the cargo ship was waiting, so the engines were in international waters before the NRM opened the next morning. 

Much swearing occurred in England that day, and the NRM’s image has yet to fully recover from the PR story that they had sold Flying Scotsman (and Ellerman Lines) to a reclusive American billionaire. 

Privately though, the NRM does not care, as that story is a lot better than “Someone stole our engines and we’re not allowed to get them back because as it turns out we’re slaveowners, so no international court will help us.”

Also, despite their multimillion dollar “donation" from the I. Eisenhower Opportunity Fund, they still haven’t been able to fully pacify their engines, all of whom have somehow gotten the idea that they should be running in main line service like they live on Sodor or something...

--------

Dwight, Scotsman, and Irene all live happily together in the sprawling Eisenhower estate in Malibu. Irene is currently lobbying the California state government to legalize polygamy, with moderate success. 

-

Ellerman Lines, after a lot of therapy and a full rebuild, is now working on a short line in Wyoming. He likes the scenery.

-

Bittern followed Dwight, Irene, and Scotsman to Los Angeles, and used her ‘connections’ (Dwight) to get a supporting role in Avengers: Age of Ultron. Since then, she’s gotten several roles based on her own merits, including an Emmy nomination for Best Guest Appearance in a Comedy.

-

Merlin spent a few months in LA before he went back to Korea. He is very thankful that he was able to reconnect with his brothers and sisters, and that his homeland has good internet, as he video calls his family across the Pacific almost every day.

-

Golden Fleece still lives a quiet life in Florida, but finally decided to tie the knot, and married his girlfriend in 2017. The ceremony was supposed to be quiet, but Irene Eisenhower has no idea what that word means. 

-

Dominion of Canada continues to baffle non-local trainspotters when she runs commuter trains into Toronto. She is now a great-grandmother. 

-

7 years later, and the term “Great Gathering” is still a forbidden phrase in the back rooms of the NRM.

[fellowstrangetownappreciator]

Playing Favorites (part 1)

...here we are not! Or are we?

Anyways, I’m on a ranting streak and I would like to present you with a verbose post about my favorite TS2 premades and why I love them.

It’s gonna be TOP 3! Or... more like TOP 5! No no no, still too few. TOP 10, maybe?

TOP 15 TS2 Premades (according to my personal tastes on 22. 04. 2021) (not in any particular order)

Erin Beaker (Strangetown)

Erin, the ray of sunshine in the Beaker clan. I headcanon her as a very smart but naive young woman who has just returned to Strangetown after graduating with a psychology degree from the La Fiesta Tech. In a fanfic I’m writing she joined Law Enforcement to put her “psychic powers” to use for “catching bad guys and protecting people” but she quickly becomes disenchanted with the actual police-work and starts her own little “adventure” to uncover the truth behind Strangetown’s most infamous mysterious deaths. In my current gameplay she’s in the Paranormal career.

The slow realization that all of her colleagues are scam artists and she might not have any powers either, almost destroyed her. But she didn’t give up. Yes, she may not have “powers” yet but that doesn’t mean she is not going to obtain them. And oh boy, she is. She builds ties with other residents, building her influence, collects skills and rare magical objects and travels a lot to understand and obtain mythical knowledge.

It’s not like she’s building a cult! It’s not how it looks, I swear! She’s way too nice to be a cult leader!

...she’s totally building a cult, although she doesn’t realize it yet.

I love Erin because she is a very flexible Sim. I find it very engaging to play a Sim that has such a different set of beliefs to mine. (Erin would be an anti-vaxxer and a user of essential oils and healing crystals, let’s accept the painful truth.) She also has a very interesting implied dynamics with her brother and with the rest of the Singles squad. She starts with a moderately low relationship with Chloe and it’s always interesting to see where it leads.

In conclusion: High intelligence, low wisdom queen.

Ripp Grunt (Strangetown)

There is something extremely relatable about Ripp. For me it’s the mystery of them growing up badly both toddler-to-child and child-to-teen, despite having been taught all toddler skills and their parents being still together and their mother still being alive. I read that as them struggling with depression since early childhood.

Maybe their parents’ relationship was already in a terrible shape when they were a small child and that’s the reason for their suffering? But Tank and Buck both grew up well under the same conditions which would indicate that there were more issues young Ripp was facing.

As you probably noticed, I headcanon Ripp as being too cool for the gender binary, using both he/him and they/them pronouns.

Anyway, there are many reasons to like Ripp. They stand up against their family’s xenophobia, violent nature and militarism. Having highest relationship with Buck out of the whole family, it is implied they’re a caring older sibling. Also, they’re framed as the underdog in the household, the trademark black sheep of the bunch who is never good enough, and are being actively mistreated by their emotionally distant macho father and physically abusive older brother.

Because of their amount of nice points and their rebellious nature (social conventions what?), I always play Ripp as polyamorous. They’re a Romance Sim, therefore they simply won’t be satisfied with just one partner in the long run but a wholesome consensual non-monogamy simply suits them better than the cheating bonanza Romance Sims often initiate, at least in my interpretation of the character. Let me just enjoy that and not think too much about the fact that since they grew up poorly two times, their life is probably going to be a relatively short one.

In conclusion: Have I mentioned that Romance is my second favorite aspiration?

Vidcund Curious (Strangetown)

Yes, him.

Vidcund is a very unpredictable Sim. He tends to cause a lot of trouble (3 nice points...) and generally sails through life being a jerk. But... A scientist? Unpopular? Cranky? Eccentric? That’s my kind of jerk.

You see, Vidcund’s not your average plant-loving conspirator, he has another side. He has a hidden Family token which makes him act a bit more Family Sim-ish. As a result of that, Vidcund tends to be a very attentive and protective father/uncle.

In my current gameplay, I gave him Family as a secondary aspiration to even strengthen this trait of his. It had mostly positive results but it did make him seem and act even more lonely.

I find Vidcund relatable even though I’m almost his exact opposite personality-wise. Maybe it is because I project my own autistic traits onto him? Maybe it is because he stands out like a sore thumb everywhere he goes (both fashion-wise and in behavior) and no matter what he does he always comes off a bit silly and somehow vulnerable?

I also love how if Strangetown is your main hood, if a Sim uses a telescope during the day anywhere in the game world, Vidcund makes the effort to travel there just to lecture them. It’s like a “Summon Vidcund” spell!

In conclusion: Playing Vidcund Curious is good for my soul.

Jill Smith (Strangetown)

In the shadow of her very popular brother, there is a little girl that will surely conquer the world someday.

Don’t worry, I love Johnny as much as the next person but my favorite member of the household is his little sister, Jill.

She has a vision. A very ironic one, given that she dreams about working with the sea creatures one day while living in the farthest possible place from the ocean but... if it’s ironic, it’s iconic.

Although she does have a token (Popularity) which makes her a bit more unique, there isn’t that much to the actual canonical portrayal, given that she is a small kid when you first play the Smiths and she has little going on for her aside of what is described in her bio. I mean, almost all kids act like they had a Popularity token anyway, the Grow Up aspiration is full of friend-making and socialization in general. But!

What she lacks in the Maxis character-building department, she makes up for in the sheer potential of what you could do with the character.

A human-passing half-alien hybrid who is, moreover, a member of the (in)famous scientist clan (...that what the Curious’ deserve to be)! She has the perfect balance of interesting and peaceful to be that Sim you can do anything with.

In my personal gameplay, she grew up to a teen and I chose Knowledge as her aspiration. She is friends with several stray animals, including the pack leader, so maybe there is a werewolf transformation in her future. She also rolled gay. She’s my laid-back lesbian disaster that knows more about the animal kingdom than pretty much anybody else in Strangetown, takes splendid care of her fish, hopelessly crushes on Lucy Burb and I love her to bits.

In conclusion: She deserves all the love and a career in Oceanography when she’s grown up.

Also, this post is getting massive even for my standards so I’ll cut it here and do the list in several parts.

[drummergirl231-2]

I don’t even know what to title this.

I’ve been trying to come up with a title for I don’t know how long and now I’m legit crying because I can’t even figure out how to start this post... so this will have to do.

I’m not okay. I can’t keep up with all this and everything going on in my life. I feel like I’m strapped into a car on a collision course for a brick wall and I’m just frozen in fear anticipating the impact. 

Everything has kind of been spiraling out of control in my personal life (if you want you can skip to the bolded headings for what’s relevant to this blog).

My parents - whom a lot of you know about from my GoFundMe - are moving from California to Tennessee. I can’t afford to stay in California so I have to go with them (though they insist my going with them is my choice and that I totally have other options... but whatever. At least I’ll be out of California). 

If my job can’t transfer me, I’ll lose it just when I was going to get the most hours (and therefore money) of the year, but my parents refuse to wait until after Christmas to sell.

My grandma recently died and even though my grandpa (step-grandfather) invited us up to the house at one point, his horrible son met us on the porch and rudely refused to let us in, telling us his father wasn’t seeing anyone. Now that his horrible son has left, grandpa invited my uncle and aunt up, but not my parents or me, and my uncle said he’s going to do what he can to bring us what we want of grandma’s. I didn’t get to say goodbye to my grandma because her death was sudden, and now I’m scared I won’t get to say goodbye to the only grandpa I’ve ever known, either, because I’m moving to Tennessee and he’s 89 and has heart problems and I’m scared he’ll die of a broken heart in every sense. I’d have liked to say goodbye to the house, too. My grandma didn’t want a funeral. She was one of those “Don’t fuss over me,” types who fussed over all of us. I have zero closure in this situation.

I have to get ready to move but have no idea how/when/where to start. I’m terrified of the 4 day journey to Tennessee, trapped in an SUV with my parents and five animals, including my poor elderly cat, Kira, whose anxiety makes mine look mild. I have Misophonia and so many food allergies I can’t eat out so I don’t know how I’ll do food for four days. My parents say they won’t bring the camping stove for me to warm up my lunches. It’s like they never raised an autistic child.

Things have been crazy for “Kristen,” me, but losing my grandparents, my home, possibly my job, and moving far from any family or friends I trust aside... things haven’t been easy for “DG,” me, either. 

As badly as I want to start a youtube channel about Autism, Misophonia, food allergies, gut health, emotional abuse, etc., I cannot find the answers no matter how much I google when it comes to the tech problems I’ve faced. And I’m not even sure when I’d be able to record these videos because my parents are almost never gone. And when they are it’s not for long, and I just want to relax, and breathe, and be in the living room, and talk and sing out loud, and do all the things I don’t get to do when they’re here for just a little bit. I stay in my room so much I feel like I’m a diver holding my breath and as soon as they leave I can surface and gasp for air. 

Also, I’m getting more and more self-conscious about my acne and this one tooth I have that’s crooked because my mom has enjoyed commenting on them lately and it makes me kind of scared to share my face with the internet and last night I legit had a dream about trying to get these things fixed with more braces and foundation. Like what even I literally don’t care about this stuff when people don’t comment on it. Why do I have to be so sensitive?

Problem is, I am figuring out why. I’ve been doing so much research on Narcissistic Personality Disorder and narcissistic abuse to try to understand my parents and childhood and young adult years, that not only have I been able to identify it in my abusers, but I’ve found some traits in myself. And I’ve searched and studied and tried to see if I have it and after this inward witch hunt I have to conclude I don’t have Narcissistic Personality Disorder, but I have a few signs of vulnerable narcissism. Even if they’re not enough for a label, they’re definitely things I need to work on (things like hypersensitivity, victim mentality, sulking and shut down, self-sabotage, things like that... and now apparently vanity, but only when people frequently give me flack about my face). Trouble is I don’t know how to work on these because I have no mentor, no counselor/therapist, no pastor, nothin’. And most of the videos about Narcissism are about identifying it or surviving it as the victim, not growing past the traits, because full-blown narcissists generally don’t acknowledge their flaws and try to fix them. So I’m at this annoying and fruitless phase of “self-improvement” where I just frequently scold myself for my thoughts.

YouTube ambitions and flaws aside, I have people waiting for the next chapter of my fanfic, and no one’s been pushy or anything, but there’s this huge weight on me to write, write, write, but with everything else going on in my life I just feel stuck. Like my brain is just “NERP.” And I feel guilty, like I’m the biggest disappointment to people.

And then there’s this blog itself. 

It’s begun to feel more like an obligation for me rather than recreation. Every week I dread the time after a new episode airs. I want to make posts at my pace, about what I want to talk about, like what I used to do. 

But sometimes the link I get has a weird video player window that I can’t make the right size to make decent gifs, and sometimes I can’t even take screenshots because when I pause it it’ll have the play triangle in the middle of the screen and the bottom of the screen will get dark, or sometimes the link just stops working. So I wait for the episode to go up on watchcartoononline because that’s where it works best for me but in the meantime I’m missing out on the fandom being online and by the time the episode goes up I’m just like, “What if the post I make of this moment gets like zero notes because it’s already been giffed and talked about a million times and I’m late to the party? What if I’m disappointing everyone?”

I try to not post anything until I can post about the episode properly, and I’ve asked people not to send me asks or messages with episode spoilers until they’ve seen proof on my blog that I’ve seen the episode, but that hasn’t stopped them. I get spoilery asks anyway.

I get a link relatively quickly but mainly I ask for people to wait for proof I’ve seen the episode because I want a chance to get my own thoughts on the episode out first before people ask me about specific things or straight up demand I talk about what they want me to talk about on my blog. 

For a couple weeks I even made all my posts and saved them as drafts first so real quick I could just post ‘em all in a row and get ‘em out, because I know the second I post one thing I’ll have everyone going “OMIGOSH SHE’S ONLINE,” and trying to send me asks and messages and I’ll be trying to juggle them all while trying to make more posts about what I want to talk about. I feel like I have to reply to those messages because if I don’t I’m scared they’ll see me make another post after they’ve sent their message and be like, “What the heck she’s online why won’t she reply to me?” So sometimes I’ll just stop posting and hope and pray they think they just missed me or something, which isn’t fair to them.

But then I’ll see something new on my dash - art from khionyohann, new screencaps for the upcoming episode that DuckTalks shared - and I’ll want to reblog it, but then I’ll think: “I can’t reblog anything... people will know I’m online then. And I still haven’t posted about the episode. I can’t do things out of order. They’ll think, ‘Why isn’t she talking about the new episode? Why isn’t she answering my asks? Why isn’t she replying to me?”

And by the time the episode gets posted on watchcartoononline (and as long as I don’t have a migraine and I’m not paralyzed with fear), I make my posts, but by then I feel like I’m super late and I don’t even know what the point is of me reblogging things anymore, if I even remember there were things I wanted to reblog.

My time here has become nothing but me trying to please people while simultaneously trying to hide from them.

So... blarg. All that to say, I’m closing my ask box for a while. And I’m sorry to disappoint people. I’m just so overwhelmed by everything right now. Extroverted thinking isn’t even a cognitive function that comes naturally to an INFJ! It’s utterly exhausting. 

And while I do still want to do more posts about the latest episode, I hope you’ll understand that things are just crazy for me right now and I’m not in a good place. I’m trying to be okay and I’m trying to be so excited about an episode that I get motivated enough find ways to blog about it no matter what but I don’t have the energy. I want to reblog stuff, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I want to interact. 

And for the few I consider true friends on here, please know I’m not asking you to leave me alone or anything. Just know I might not respond as soon as you message me... which, honestly, you’re probably all used to by now, but I still feel super guilty about it.

I just need to simplify my time on here a little bit because I’m not okay.

[brachiosaurus-on]

My Bad Batch commentary for S1E12. Overall I liked this episode, but there are a few things that stood out to me as conflicting with established worldbuilding. Howzer is getting much better narrative treatment than the clones in TCW. In other words, the writers seem to care about him and he’s not a redshirt. But we’re really stretching the inhibitor chips it seems.

Spoilers below the cut.

Lessu looks a lot better than in the clone wars. Love that bigger budget.

Why imprison them together? Imprisoning them separately would be more effective.

Eleni is still the best.

“Leave the thinking to me.” Punch him in the face Howzer. Were the admirals in the clone wars this rude to the clones? I don’t remember any instances of it, but didn’t many of them join the Empire?

Are they... being imprisoned in their own home? Or am I getting the sets confused. Does Cham have prison cells in his basement? Yep, Cham has prison cells in his basement. He was literally a prisoner in his own home. Why is their house the Imperial command center? Is it like a governor’s mansion? I thought in Rebels it was a generational home. I need to finish s3 of Rebels, yes I have seen s4.

I’m sorry, Orn Free Taa survived? He took a blaster to the brain. Is this just imperial propaganda?

“Don’t worry, we’re defective too” AWW. Gonky is my new favorite member of the bad batch.

“Children often overreact.” “No we don’t!” It would have been less convincing, but way funnier if Omega overreacted to that.

LMAO throwing his soldier identity in his face. I love her.

I love Hunter trying to act as if he isn’t going to do whatever Omega asks him to.

TBB is definitely not a priority for the Empire. Rampart is treating this as Crosshair’s personal vendetta

Is she gonna pull a Numa and lead them through the tunnels?

Cham not trusting him was a good decision. That could easily have been a ploy.

Awwww this is Hera’s first leadership role. You’re doing amazing sweetie.

Ok they’re doing the whole silencing opposition thing pretty well & Howzer is pointing out to the audience (younglings watching this) that it’s wrong. I like that they’re using a clone with a malfunctioning chip to do this. I can’t wait until history teachers ten years from now try to teach about fascism and hear a bunch of “OMG it’s just like in The Bad Batch!!!”

Huh, Tech is actually a pretty good pilot.

Cham get out of there before you start asking for explanations.

What is the refinery refining? This resource is probably why Ryloth was a Separatist target in the first place.

Cham is still not acknowledging the Jedi. That happened earlier in the war, so maybe they were invaded again and only clones were sent because there weren’t enough Jedi anymore? But he’s talking about how they worked with the clones and the person who convinced him to do that was Mace Windu, who also led the battle with him & captured Wat Tambor. Not to mention Anakin Skywalker, who saved them from the bombers at the last minute. Not even Ima-Gun Di who literally died for him so that his freedom fighters would live to fight another day. Why isn’t Gobi mentioning this? I mean, even Hera remembers the Jedi 15 years later.

Ok so that explains why Howzer stayed with the Empire. I’m guessing that he was not assigned to a Jedi though. It would have been cool to see those battalions in clone wars.

He’s so about to get shot. EXCUSE ME? THEY HAVE BRAIN CONTROL CHIPS? ARE THEY ALL MALFUNCTIONING? This is... a rather contradictory development. It’s been established that the chips don’t give them a choice and can defy their higher reasoning, but later that there’s an intensity scale for the chips’ effectiveness. If some clones just need to realize that what they’re doing is illogical or wrong, then why was order 66 so effective? Why did crosshair follow orders even at low intensity? Why was Rex so insistent on getting them out? Why did Wrecker go after Omega? But now we see plenty of regs with malfunctioning chips, which gives the impression that this could be a widespread issue. Of the clones who heard the speech, about half defected. 50% of the sample size. Did he get lucky that all the clones with malfunctioning chips were together? Is there a timer on how long the chips are effective? Does the intensity decrease over time? I can’t apply one tiny sample to the wider population even if they are identical; in fact, we’re being shown that they’re not identical. And yet, the fact that so many of them defected suggests that many more could also exercise free will... when they shouldn’t have that ability. Howzer should have gotten shot because the chips are supposed to completely override free will; that would have been consistent with established worldbuilding. I want to see the clones regain their free will, but they have to work within the rules of the established canon. Ahsoka gave Rex a similar “this isn’t you” speech to no effect; Omega has given the same speech to no effect. Again, make a decision, Dave.

I also have a bone to pick with how Wrecker said he was fighting his chip while he was under its influence, when it’s been established as far back as the OT that force users can sense internal conflict; if clones were fighting the chips, it would have warned the Jedi (see Rex & Ahsoka) when the reason they were supposed to be effective is that there was no conflict for the Jedi to sense because they were just following orders. Perhaps there’s an intensity threshold where their actions fall under its influence and another for their thoughts to be overwritten, but still, this is really pushing the established worldbuilding.

You know what, I’m just going to make a separate post about the chips. I’ll wait until the finale so they have a chance to explain this.

And now tbb are Rampart’s personal vendetta and therefore a priority for the Empire. Why is he impressed by the basic strategy of “let’s cause a distraction” is he just salty cause he fell for it? Because they blew up his big project? I feel as though Rampart had enough information to be able to predict this.

I get the feeling that they’re setting up a lot of key players for a big show down in the finale.

[meditationnearme]

Is This Crazy New Treatment The Cure To Your Insomnia? - how do you reduce stress

NuCalm promotes itself as neuroscience-backed tension and sleep technology. In practice, though, it simply helped me nap. I recently awakened from a delightful 20-minute nap. Really, it was more of a 10-minute half-nap half-trance, preceded by ideas of what I required to accomplish today that slowly liquified into the types of non-sequitur visions that take place because earliest phase of sleep.

In some way, this was rejuvenating. For the last week, I have actually been checking out the NuCalm system. According to its website, NuCalm is "the world's only trademarked neuroscience innovation clinically shown to deal with stress and improve sleep quality without drugs." It includes a neuroacoustic software application app utilized for 20- to 120-minute increments, an eye mask and the abovementioned processing discs, and in practice includes listening to ambient, cinematic sounds (comparable to this) with your eyes closed and a sticker label stuck to your inner arm.

Each of the elements are designed to set off the body's parasympathetic nervous system, which aids with recovery and relaxation. The disc is created to launch gamma-aminobutyric acid, a neurotransmitter that inhibits cortisol and adrenaline. With this and the app, NuCalm halts your body's tension action and therefore the mental and physical toll tension can handle the body.

military, 49 sports teams and in over a million surgical treatments. Some dental offices even utilize it for clients who hesitate of the dental expert. NuCalm's 'bio-signal processing disc' Although the product is touted as a way of possibly healing the body from injury, addiction and physical concerns, it appears predominately useful for relaxation and anxiety.

By this procedure, my use of NuCalm was a success: After my 20-minute session this afternoon, I certainly felt far more refreshed and awake. While a few of my sessions kept me conscious the whole time, I at least felt a bit more relaxed than previously. At the start, I 'd believed I was supposed to treat the session like a meditation, preventing letting my ideas roam.

Why I was so focused upon events of this age during my session is a secret to me, but regardless, I think I still dropped off to sleep for about five minutes. Unusually enough, a FAQ section of the app states that memory recollection is a typical characteristic of "theta brainwave variety," and that recalling memories in this phase allows you to dissociate negative feelings from them.

Overall, NuCalm did enable me to take best little afternoon naps in a structured method. I am decent at sleeping as it is, but I do believe something about NuCalm, whether it be the discs or the noises or the timer, made those naps more effective than usual. One glaring problem with NuCalm, nevertheless, is its rate.

Perhaps as I keep utilizing it, I'll find that this is a totally reasonable expense for the advantage of much better relaxation, health and sleep. At this moment, however, I 'd pay possibly $10 a month. The app likewise requires some major upgrading, as it presently only uses 3 various session types (recharge, reboot and rescue) at differing lengths and with a rather cumbersome layout.

Instead, it feels rudimentary, with lesser parts of the app like the post-session debriefing FAQ totally nonfunctional. I have actually taken some fantastic naps this last week, and I'll keep utilizing NuCalm for this function. It's a nearly simple and easy way of fitting 20 minutes of pure relaxation into my day. Whether those bio-signalling dics do anything, I'm still suspicious in addition to a cleaner app, I 'd need to get a bit more trust in the science to pay $60 a month.

Magdalene Taylor is a junior staff writer at MEL, where she began working two weeks after finishing college. Her work is a mix of cultural analysis and service, covering whatever from reconsiderations of low-brow hits like Joe Dirt and Nickelback to modern disability issues, OnlyFans and the kinds of small concerns about life like why baby carrots are so wet.

According to the company, thirty minutes of NuCalm is equal to 2 to 3 hours of corrective sleep. The NuCalm website boasts that the de-stressing treatment takes simply 2 minutes to administer and less than 5 minutes to accomplish its effects, making it the extremely meaning of a quick repair.

With its sleek website and claims of high-tech, borderline-magic outcomes, I half expected my NuCalm experience to occur in the literal future or, at really least, a center that reeked of sci-fi vibes. I believe I was imagining a workplace that looked like the ship from Passengers and a large set-up reminiscent of the memory-implanting tech from Total Remember or possibly even a coffin-like pod directly out of The Fifth Component.

My NuCalm treatment was not administered on the set of a motion picture, but it also wasn't administered in a dental expert's workplace. On the early morning of my visit, I drove across Los Angeles to Santa Monica to the workplaces of an authentic medical professional to the stars, whose Hollywood customers includes starlets, authors and motivational masters, and who boasts know-how in energy medication, integrative medication and bioidentical hormone replacement treatment.

Rather, my NuCalm experience began in a (actively) dimly lit waiting room that looked more like the living-room of an eccentric, well-traveled college professor than a medical center. The doctor was fashionably late not with another patient, simply in getting to the office. While the tardiness might usually have actually frustrated me, here, it appeared like part of the experience, almost like a sneak peek of the outcomes of the high-tech treatment that awaited me.

Throughout a quick consultation, the physician discussed the NuCalm procedure and summarized the science behind it (more on that later). The gist of the system, I learned, was this: I would chew a tablet of gamma-Aminobutyric acid, or -aminobutyric acid (or GABA, for short), a repressive neurotransmitter suggested to decrease activity in my nerve system.

I would listen, through headphones, to binaural beat music music with two various balanced pulses that activates Alpha and Theta brain waves, which are connected with the very first stage of deep sleep and meditation. Likewise, I would be blindfolded. And, in Doc Hollywood's workplace, I would do all of this while lying on a waterbed although the waterbed, I learned, is not a standard or needed element of the treatment.

I was led to a small exam space (or, possibly, a large closet), where I was offered a big GABA tablet and told to chew but not swallow it while the medical professional marked time the binaural beats and connected the Biosignal Processing Disc to my wrist. Lastly, after what seemed like a much longer duration of time than it possibly could have been, I was informed to swallow the GABA vitamin sludge, which had the artificially sweet, fruity taste and distinctly milky taste and texture of Flinstones vitamins that are a couple of months past their expiration date.

The NuCalm treatment itself was completely pleasant. The music was calming but interesting (I've since registered for a binaural beats playlist on Spotify bless the web). The milky, orange-adjacent taste of the GABA tablet didn't remain in a particularly noticeable way. And the waterbed was warmed, that made for a relaxing place to lie down and rest.

What am I doing incorrect? Why don't I feel calm? If science can't make me chill TF out, am I just a lost cause? Perhaps if I do a body scan, I'll be able to feel the results. That's a good concept. I'm going to do a body scan. This will resemble mindfulness on steroids orange-flavored, healthy steroids.

I am broken. I was wrong. It was not practically over. Maybe it's the kind of thing you can't feel in the moment, however I'll observe a substantial distinction when it's over. I have a lot work to do. Stop thinking of work and being stressed. That beats the entire purpose.

I asked how typically he advised that individuals come in for NuCalm treatments and he stated that it differs, but that some individuals "need it daily." I couldn't help however think, based on my experience and the lack of concrete outcomes, that that appeared excessive. He handed me some research study further discussing the science behind NuCalm prior to rushing off to his next appointment, and I left sensation disappointed and a little anxious about my failure to feel less distressed through the treatment.

For the record, it's not. I discovered the experience to be a little New Age-y in practice, however the system really is based in science. Drawing from neuroscience research into the patterns the brain goes through throughout natural periods of relaxation, every component of NuCalm is created to simulate that process and prompt a stressed brain to switch gears to a more relaxed state.

NuCalm works specifically on the body's inhibitory system, the GABAergic system. This gadget is bio-mimetic in that it resets the naturally taking place negative feedback loop of the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis, which when properly functioning is expected to shut down and stop releasing cortisol from the adrenal glands after the end of a stressful occasion.

Individuals in this state are physically not able to have a distressed reaction. Within moments of application, users will start to feel remedy for the 'fight-or-flight' considerate nervous system action and their tension hormonal agent (cortisol) levels will start to decline as the HPA axis is hindered." Here's a quick breakdown of the science behind each phase of the NuCalm process.

It's really the primary repressive neurotransmitter system in brain circuits. Gamma-Aminobutyric Acid is a relaxation neurotransmitter that the body produces naturally when we're preparing yourself to sleep, so the strategy of utilizing GABA supplements to signify the brain that it's time to relax makes good sense. What's not completely clear, nevertheless, is how effective oral GABA supplements remain in triggering those advantages.

While some studies have actually revealed that GABA can cross the blood-brain barrier, others have shown the opposite, suggesting a possible placebo result behind perceived benefits of the supplements. Researchers agree that more research is needed to figure out how useful GABA supplements really are. According to NuCalm's website, the disc "simplifies the process of triggering the parasympathetic worried system, by tapping into the body's Pericardium Meridian with specific electromagnetic (EM) frequencies." The disc (which, again, was a round sticker, about the size of a quarter, that was used to the within of my wrist) was, undoubtedly, my greatest source of apprehension at the same time, and NuCalm's official explanation of the science behind it highlights the most Brand-new Age-y vibes of the company.

It is hypothesized that if you can restore the frequencies that take a trip through the Meridians you can reinstate ideal physiology. Each NuCalm disc holds the EM frequency patterns of GABA and its precursors to provide a pure biological signal to your body. When put on the within your left wrist, at your Pericardium-6 acupuncture point, the disc sends a signal to the pericardium of your heart to trigger regional parasympathetic nerve fibers, which then transfer the signal to your brain telling it to increase vagal nerve output and start the process of decreasing the body.

In 2017, Gwyneth Paltrow's GOOP promoted a $120 brand name of bio-frequency stickers, leading to a short-lived viral moment for the tech. Sadly for proponents of the devices, the action wasn't fantastic, with Mark Shelhamer, previous chief scientist at NASA's human research division, significantly decrying the GOOP-endorsed product as "snake oil." Although the NuCalm site describes that "each disc holds the electromagnetic frequency patterns of GABA and its precursors to provide a pure biosignal to your body," it's unclear exactly how putting the sticker on your wrist sets off that shipment.

[arcticdementor]

Warning: a longpost

Tensions between the social effects and "imperatives" of technological developments and elements of our human natures are not new — people have been debating it as far back as Diogenes, Confucius, and Laozi. But in recent discussions, I note a rather stark polarity.

On the one end, you have the people for whom the human must be subordinated to the technological. Issues created by technology cannot be fought, only individually adapted to, mostly via more technology. The people who will admit — or even go on at length — about the toxicity of social media… and yet for whom the idea of actually doing anything about it — other than individually tuning out if you can — is anathema, and they react with horror when you raise the possibility. People whose response to widespread obesity, particularly among the poor, as a result of modern lifestyles is pushing bariatric surgery (like some doctors friends and family have dealt with). Or at further extreme, singularitarian or singularitarian-adjacent ends, the people who look at our society's increasing difficulty producing future generations, and say either that it's no biggie because Any Day Now™ we'll cure aging and no longer need future generations, or it's no biggie because Any Day Now™ we'll figure out the tech for mass-manufacture of future generations like Brave New World or Battletech's Clans. At the furthest, you have the people who take the Marxist arguments about the "inherent contradictions" between industrial "capitalism" and human flourishing… and say 'so much the worse for humanity; time to start engineering the AI corporations to replace us dumb monkeys' like Nick Land.

Then you have the people at the other end, who go Luddite. Again, you can go back to filthy hobo Diogenes for this one. You've got the "environmentalists" who see anything more advanced than being a hunter-gatherer as the "rape of Mother Nature" and who unironically quote Agent Smith. Then there's the Right-wing primitivists who note that preindustrial societies cannot afford much leftism, and therefore argue that giving up electricity, indoor plumbing, medicine that works, etc. (let alone escaping this small, fragile planet) are all a small price to pay to Own the Libs.

But Confucius, while acknowledging that the creations of the Sage Kings, in bringing us from the "Greater Harmony" to the "Lesser Peace," created a certain tension between societal requirements and our human nature, pointed out that such things, like buildings, and clothing, and fire, and agriculture, and writing, et cetera, are worth the trade-off as opposed to a more natural lifestyle as naked cavemen. But, accepting the trade-off doesn't mean we can't do things to ameliorate those tensions and try to reduce the negative impacts.

Tyler Cowen posited his future Average Is Over dystopia of the vast majority of the population relegated to being impoverished, packed into overcrowded favelas eating beans and bugs, pacified by VR, drugs, and omnipresent government surveillance and enforcement… and when confronted about the undesirability of such and how we might avoid it, simply proclaims it inevitable: the Economy has spoken, and we humans can only obey its dictates. Whatever happened to the idea that our tools and our economy exist to serve us, and our human needs, rather than us existing to serve their needs? Okay, probably most people who held that view from a secular perspective likely ended up embracing Marxism as the means of doing so, and then Marxism failed. (This links in to my unwritten potential post about how Wokism is neither Marxist nor postmodern, despite drawing partially from both.) And those who did so from a religious perspective ended up divided by their various specific sectarian views and given to "solutions" that boil down to unsupported individual piety — or else, being the Amish.

There's that whole bit about "unless you're over 60, you weren't promised flying cars. You were promised an oppressive cyberpunk dystopia." And plenty of people have covered this ground before, about how our visions of technological progress used to be about how it would make our lives better and allow us to better pursue our various human ends, but now are all about how it will make our lives worse and force us to pursue its various inhuman ends. Even the few "optimistic" visions are hyper-individualist, and when confronted about man's nature as a social animal, either insist that said needs will be met through "relationships" with individualized AI surrogates (the whole "2d > 3d," yay sexbots view), or else that the need for human connection will prove yet another "flaw" to be engineered out in whatever manner of "posthuman" creatures replace us.

I look back on those more optimistic visions. At what past societies considered a better future, before we gave up on it. And I note how even the utopian visions of 19th century socialists are, compared to our day, rather spectacularly un-Woke — and definitely better than 'soypunk dystopia, but at least with rainbow flags and nobody being misgendered while they toil for Amazon.'

And, of course, if you go further back, you eventually end up before any serious ideas of progress. Then, ideas about a better world were not speculations about the future, but about the afterlife. I recall a couple of discussions about Bleach, Soul Society, and the average Tenth Century Japanese peasant's idea of Paradise; or (IIRC, prompted by some terrible "humanity curbstomps the invading Legions of Hell who are wielding Bronze Age weapons against modern militaries" story on SpaceBattles) what a Bronze Age goat-herder would consider Heaven?

Are subordination to technological imperatives or Luddism really the only two choices? Are we really left with either the poor afflicted with starvation or the poor afflicted with obesity? For those of us who find the society "progress" has created increasingly alienated, and who prefer older visions and modes of living more attractive, is total renunciation and "going full Amish" really the only alternative?

I look at writers like Chesterton and Lewis and Tolkien, and their ideal social structures, and I think, isn't there some way that technological progress can be channeled towards allowing us — or, at least those of us who want to — to achieve a better, more comfortable, more broadly-available, less labor-intensive version of the Shire Hobbit lifestyle, rather than better digital circuses to numb us while we all eat bugs in our dorm tubes in Scat Francisco?

Or, for those of you so inclined, a better, more comfortable, more broadly-available, less labor-intensive version of the Oscar Wilde lifestyle? After all, I note that a perennial condemnation of aristocrats has been about what big, degenerate perverts they are behind closed doors — that de Sade got in trouble, more for atheism, but also for the "writing publicly about it" part? I mean, aside from maybe @ponteh2dhh1ksdiwesph2tres, where are the people trying to work out, instead of "Fully-Automated Luxury Gay Space Communism," how we might create "Fully-Automated Decadent Space Aristocracy"? Where are the people trying to use computers and AI to create a better version of the Imperial court of Elagabalus without all the slavery and need for foreign conquest to pay for its orgies?

Is there even a term for this idea, of using technology to create better versions of the past, rather than simply letting "progress" take us wherever it will, and all negative consequences treated as simply things we must each individually struggle to avoid and cope with, with all of us in competition against one another to become one of those chosen few ultra-rich tech overlords wealthy enough to escape living in the favelas, the few powerful enough to avoid ruination should one end up on the wrong end of Twitter cancelation?

Wow. Look at me, gloomy pessimist that I am, actually calling for some optimism and hope for the future. Yeah, I probably shouldn't have even bothered with the effort of writing this post. Because of course the only possible futures are all terrible.

[astyle-alex]

[Fanfic] Museum Mishap | the BatFam

Heya! As we approach the End of 2020 (FINALLY), I’m realizing that this story is ridiculously close to reaching the milestone of 25k hits on Ao3. To celebrate, I’ll be posting the whole thing here on Tumblr!

(I would however, deeply appreciate it if y’all would pop over to view it on Ao3, briefly, so I can get the view counted as a hit and actually make it over the line for 25k in views before the close of 2020!)

Museum Mishap  |  Chapter 1/6

Fandom: the DC Universe, Batman & co. Pairings: Jay x Tim Characters: Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson Rating: Gen Audiences Warnings: None

Total Word Count: 38,590

Summary:

Middle-School Tim Drake is on a field trip to the Science Museum, but with a WE exhibition of top-secret new technologies being staged in the basement, Tim separates from his classmates and breaks into the staff-only areas by using the skills he's developed over years of stalking Batman and Robin.

Current-Robin Jason Todd catches him in the act, but he's not there to confront Tim for trespassing or truancy - he's there because there's a rumor on the street that Tim Drake knows Batman's real name. And the rumor's gaining ground, quick, drawing in the wrong kind of attention.

When a Drug-Lord decides to take the rumor seriously enough to kidnap the little genius, Jason jumps into the crossfire. It all goes downhill from there. Fast.

(Jason is 14, Tim is 12)

Chapter 1 : Special Access

           A trip to Gotham’s History of Science and Technology Museum would’ve been exciting for even your average twelve year old – it was a day of school that didn’t feel like school, and it meant a chance to hang out, relatively unsupervised, with your friends all day instead of just the one or two classes you managed to luck into having together.

           Timothy Jackson Drake was not your average twelve year old, and a trip to the SciTech Muse was the kind of thing that made his enrollment in middle school entirely worth it. For starters, it was an entire day spent in the heart of the city surrounded by some of the coolest artifacts of science humans could craft.

           And to make things even better, the trip was an all-day, delayed opening affair, starting at 10am and ending at 6pm – which meant he’d actually been able to get enough sleep last night to be well-rested, a rarity in its own right with his particular extra-curriculars. Better yet, he’d been able to tell the Drake housekeeper / nanny that he’d be having dinner with his class so she could go home right at 6 without having to wait for him to get back so she could cook for him.

           That part wasn’t true, of course, but he had concrete evidence that had been legitimately published by the school to help back up his story. Mrs. Simz had her own kid, and was therefore harder to convince than some of the others Tim’s parents had hired, but that also meant she had more reason to hurry home when presented with a believable reason excusing it.

           Being a sixth-grader meant Tim couldn’t just stay in the heart of the city when the field trip was over, he was on a rollcall and the bus back to Gotham Academy wouldn’t leave without his name getting checked off. The high schoolers were allowed to take public transit home if they had a signed permission slip from their parents, but Tim had to wait a few more years before he could con his way into having such freedoms.

           Still, getting over to the West Side from where his school was in Coventry would be far easier than getting there from the Drake Estate way out in Bristol. The extra hour and a half he’d save himself in commuting time mean he would be able to grab some coffee and something to eat without having to rush to get in place for the nighttime adventure he’d planned.

           Beyond all that, the fact that the field trip was this week, meant there was a special exhibition from the cutting-edge tech division of Wayne Enterprises in the midst of being set up. All the main components were being staged in the museum's basement and the ones too big to steal were as close to unprotected as they would ever be – and Tim intended to take full advantage of that.

           He’d been summarily and repeatedly denied acceptance to the WayneTech summer camps as his parents owned one of the company's main competitors: Drake Industries. Apparently corporate espionage was a big enough problem that even ten year olds were suspect. Tim found it ridiculous that the one time he would’ve been entirely okay with having his abilities underestimated was the one time he wasn’t assumed to be just another dumb kid. Honestly, Tim was pretty sure that no one had actually read his application – the computer had probably scanned his ID and kicked his profile out of the running before it had even made it to a human that might care about his actual qualifications.

           Tim hadn’t figured out how to make a bulletproof fake identity profile – not yet, at least – And he certainly wasn’t going to get caught trying to gain illegal access to WE on a sub-par fake ID. Because there were all kinds of ways that would go poorly for him – between his parents possibly being disappointed in him enough to hire a live-in Nanny to the legal ramifications he’d face, even as a minor, it just wasn’t worth it.

           But the thought of getting an up-close look at the new tech WE was rolling out still made Tim's heart pound like he’d just downed a full pot of coffee. WE took a very different approach to developing their tech than DI – more of a ‘you know what would be cool? can we make that reasonable?’ philosophy than a ‘how do we solve this problem?’ sort of thing. Tim found the both the WE approach and their results utterly fascinating.

           Not that Tim had been allowed to play with much of DI's tech, being that his parents would hear about him attempting to gain unsupervised lab access, and promptly ground him, and anyone who might supervise treated him like a kid far too young to understand or unobtrusively observe the work going on inside the places he wanted to see.

           So, the fact that a spectacular spread of WE tech was set up in the basement of a rather glaringly unsecured staff only area in the very building Tim’s class was touring stood as an open invitation for Tim to investigate.

           An invitation that Tim took very seriously. He’d spent at least 18 hours over the past week examining the museum’s blueprints – courtesy of the Gotham City Hall Public Archives – And the rundown of the security, both in terms of the human guards and staff on-hand and the electronic countermeasures – via close examination of the extensive repertoire of ‘insider access’ videos on the museum’s own webpage. Tim would probably end up sending the museum an anonymous suggestion about adjusting that at some point, but he’d worry about that later.

           After he used it to his tech fantasy fulfillment advantage.

           For now, he simply slipped away from the unwatchful eyes of his teachers, stuck headphones in his ears, and carefully made his way – casually, calmly, and like he had no destination in mind – over to the hallway by the cafeteria near the east wing gift shop. The hallway that had restrooms and a staff-only door halfway down it. A door secured with a heavy-duty machine-lock, with a ten-digit keypad, but a door that was not alarmed.

           The human guards were always more focused on preventing shoplifters from stealing over-priced – for a good cause, but still over-priced – museum memorabilia than on the high-traffic restroom hall by the cafeteria. Using his headphones as an excuse to tap his fingers to keep count – while his eyes and most of his brainpower focused on evaluating targets – Tim tracked the museum employees on their lunch breaks and calculated the best option to use as his ticket backstage. He had some in mind, but he had contingencies for last-minute adjustment.

           Tim settled on a big guy whose name he’d read on staff profiles but had forgotten with the other useless information provided about his role in the marketing department. What Tim hadn’t forgotten about him was that his department’s office was right by the staff door he was eyeing – 4.5 meters down and to the left, to be exact – which meant that, even with his slow stride, he would be behind another door in the hallway approximately 17 seconds after the door Tim needed closed behind him.

           When Mr. Marketing got up and lumbered over to the trash, Tim sidled over towards an informational sign with a museum map. As Mr. Marketing passed him, Tim counted off 4 seconds before he turned around to follow. He slid his hand into his pocket and wrapped his fingers around the u-shaped metallic magnet he'd had to smuggle in by jamming it into his mouth and using sleight of hand to pretend it was his retainer – Less than sanitary, but effective, and he’d taken an extra vitamin this morning as a precaution.

           Mr. Marketing punched in his code and pulled the door open to well over 90° before he lumbered through the gap. Tim kept his pace consistent; patient, he could be patient – even though it made his heart rate kick up uncomfortably as he put his faith in his calculations instead of in his feet. He reached the door with almost 6 inches of clearance left for him to slide his hand in and clip his magnet into place over the latch.

           The door closed as he withdrew his hand and kept walking, but it did not click.

           The machine lock whirred with an attempt to close, but its components struck the flat surface of his magnet and failed to properly secure the door. Had the door been alarmed, that would have drawn a lot of unwanted attention, but as it was Tim made it to the restroom with almost nothing noticeably amiss.

           The restroom was crowded enough that his entrance didn’t draw attention and he shut himself in one of the stalls to count off exactly 10 seconds. Then he washed his hands, acquired a paper towel that he did not immediately dispose of, and went to retrieve his magnet. The paper towel allowed him to grasp the handle without leaving fingerprints and he retrieved his magnet without incident – opening the door onto an empty hallway and promptly swerving right to access the unsecured stairwell he knew would be there.

           Tim had no way to hide himself from the singular security camera watching the hallway, but the area was so highly trafficked that he doubted any security guard had been monitoring closely enough to spot his detour. He would get in a ton of trouble if he was caught here – phone calls to his parents would be unavoidable and they’d likely be so angry at him they’d fly back from Spain a week early. But he’d almost certainly avoid any kind of legal consequences.

           Besides, he wasn’t going to get caught. He’d planned this too well for that.

           Tim made his way through the less convenient passageways in the museum’s basement until he reached the corner of the sub-basement where the WayneTech exhibit was being staged. It was, as he’d known it would be, isolated and completely vacant of staff.

           A smile split his face as the relief he felt in making it there successfully was quickly replaced by the buzz of unadulterated excitement. He set his backpack down carefully – mindful, as always, of his precious camera. Then he rolled up his sleeves as he stepped closer to the first machine he saw with the WE logo stamped proudly on its side.

           According to the signage prepped in the binder sitting next to the behemoth, it was a component of the quantum computer WayneTech was developing to facilitate physically interactive virtual realities. Tim bounced on his toes as he warred with himself – half wanting to read more about the technical specs and half wanting to dive right in and see it for himself.

           Tim made it through another two pages of engineering details before he gave up and literally tackled the machine to hoist himself up high enough to look inside via the glass panel built in for that specific purpose. There were at least a dozen windows in the casing and Tim wondered – for a brief moment of distraction from the tech itself as he clambered higher up its exterior – how the museum was going to work in ramps and such for visitors to get the best views. If he didn’t get arrested tonight or banned from the museum forever, he might have to come back to see it in its full glory.

           He’d finagled his way to the last protrusion from top and was marveling at the neat rows of complicated wiring laid out below him when something crucial changed: he discovered that he was not, in fact, alone.

           “Ya know, I don’t think you’re supposed to be down here.”

           Tim really wanted to pretend he didn’t yelp like a kicked puppy when the sudden voice scared him half out of his skin, but the basement echoed enough for him to know it would be ridiculous to think the newcomer hadn’t heard him. Tim ducked his head in shame as his ears burned red and he turned to face whoever had caught him with hunched shoulders and guilty hands raised in surrender.

           And then he spotted his accuser on the floor and froze.

           It was Jason Peter Todd.

           Jason Peter Todd – Bruce Wayne’s new ward and the new Robin. And also kinda Tim’s neighbor. Well, as far as the word ‘neighbor' applied when your respective estates were so big it took an hour to hike door to door. Tim’s brain got caught in a loop of wondering what the frack Jason Peter Todd, of all people, was doing at the museum on a Thursday afternoon. Was doing down here, in this particular sub-basement, on a Thursday afternoon.

           Tim had fully been expecting to see the new Robin today, but that was when he was in full costume and wasn’t supposed to be for at least ten more hours. And Tim had not – in any of his contingencies – planned for Robin to see him.

           “Uh, hi,” Tim floundered.

           “Hi,” returned the crime fighting teenager Tim idolized and had been planning to stalk through Coventry later today. There was a glint in his eyes as he stared up at Tim with a smirk.

           They stared at each other in silence for way longer than could possibly be considered reasonable and Tim's ears resumed to burn at that, and at the distinct realization he had no idea what to say next.

           Because what exactly are you supposed to say when Jason Peter Todd catches you red handed in an off-limits part of a museum? Sitting on top of a piece of cutting edge computer engineering that you had absolutely no right to touch?

           “You're Tim Drake, aren’t you,” Jason asked – in a way that was definitely not really a question and also made it clear that Jason was laughing at him. “We met last month at the charity gala. I’m Jason.”

           “I remember, Mr. Todd,” Tim spouted, falling back on the robotic safety net of manners his mother had drilled into him. “Um, what brings you here?”

           “It’s just ‘Jason’, kid.” He jerked his chin at the machine Tim clung to, continuing, “That shit’s WayneTech. B sent me over to make sure it’s got all the right bits with it.”

           Tim nodded like a puppet, trying not to drown in his horror as he realized what it meant that Jason had caught him. He was messing with tech that Batman owned. There were probably a hundred undetectable BatSecurity features on this thing. Robin had probably been sent to see if someone was trying to steal it when one of Batman’s invisible alarms had gone off.

           “How about you, kid,” Jason asked, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his cargo pants. He regarded Tim with openly amused parody as he asked, “What brings you here?”

           “Field trip,” Tim responded automatically.

           “Field trip?” Jason echoed with an incredulous chuckle.

           He stared at Tim for another long moment and Tim stared back, terrified and unblinking and too tongue tied to substantiate his claim.

           “Alright then,” Jason said eventually, with a one shoulder shrug inside his leather jacket. “So, you got yourself stuck up there or are you gonna come have lunch with me?”

           “Lunch?”

           “Yeah, ya know, food. You eat it,” Jason explained. “I know I could use some pizza.”

           Tim frowned – at the confirmation of the non-sequitur of lunch plans, not the various insults attached to it.

           Jason seemed to falter briefly. “You actually stuck up there, Tim?”

           “No,” Tim huffed, willing to admit he sounded slightly petulant about it.

           “Well then get your skinny ass down here,” Jason prompted – a beat too late in a way Tim didn’t quite understand. He blinked, trying to puzzle out what didn’t sit right, but Jason arched an eyebrow – in the way Tim had seen him do as Robin, magically managing the expression despite the mask – and Tim realized he was supposed to be doing something.

           He was already in enough trouble as it was, so Tim scrambled down the computer and found himself face to face with the second Robin. Or face to chest, as it were.

           Tim hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet, so he knew he was a scrawny twelve, but he hadn’t thought Jason would be that much taller. Jason was only two years older and he was stocky to start with. It was different when he’d been in the suit he’d worn for the charity gala. In civvies he looked broad and strong, and he stood up straighter.

           Jason pulled one hand from his pocket and threw his arm around Tim’s shoulders – began dragging him towards the exit. Tim lunged for his backpack as they passed it and clutched it close to his chest as Jason continued to drag him back upstairs.

           They ended up in the west cafeteria, in a corner that Jason had clearly selected for it’s state of semi-privacy. It was crowded and public enough to make raised voices problematic, but private enough to discuss sensitive details without much worry of being over heard. And it was neutral ground, like Jason was trying to make Tim comfortable before hashing out exactly how much trouble he was in for touching Batman’s stuff without express permission.

           Jason had acquired a large pizza, dripping with extra cheese and a blanket of peperoni, and two double-thick paper plates – one of which he piled high with three slices and placed in front of Tim. He gave himself five slices and settled down to chat having somehow already inhaled half of a sixth.

           “So,” Jason started around a mouthful of food as Tim poked tentatively as his own serving, “Some people are saying you’ve got some sort of connection to the Batman.”

           Tim frowned, his gaze snapping up to evaluate Jason.

           He’d spoken quietly, conspiratorially – like he wanted in on a secret Tim had. Like he wasn’t about to threaten to hang Tim by his thumbs in the depths of Batman’s secret lair for the rest of the foreseeable future.

           Awareness that Jason didn’t know that Tim knew his vigilante identity sparked inside Tim’s brain. He might be able to get out of this. If Robin didn’t know then Tim was only in trouble for touching the quantum computer because Batman didn’t want anyone touching it, and Jason was limited in how he could exact vengeance because the wrong move would reveal his role as Robin. All Tim had to do was talk his way out of this.

           Tim could do that. Right?

           All he had to do was figure out how.

           “I’m sorry I touched the quantum computer,” he blurted.

           Probably not like that.

           Tim hunched down into his shoulders and poked again at his pizza to avoid eye contact with Jason. His ears began to burn again as he felt Jason staring at him.

           “Shit, kid,” Jason said, after swallowing his bite this time, “You’re not in trouble.”

           Tim’s finger paused mid-poke. “I’m not?”

           “Nah,” Jason promised. “Fuck the Man.”

           Tim blinked. “Then why are you talking to me?”

           Jason blinked. A sort of confused expression that was vaguely pitying flickered across his face. Then he reiterated, “’Cause I hear you know who the Batman is, ya know, under the cowl.”

           Okay. So, Jason didn’t know he knew, but he suspected.

           Tim could work with that. Probably.

           He took a bite of pizza purely to keep himself from blurting anymore unhelpful apologies and attempted to calculate the best response.

           “Nobody knows who Batman is,” Tim said eventually.

           “But you’re a fan, right?” Jason nodded at Tim sweater – at the big black and yellow R embroidered on the left-hand side of the red-wool knitwork. Mrs. Davis had made this sweater for him, before her kids had insisted that she retire from babysitting rich Gotham kids and go be a grandmother in the safety and comfort of their town in Florida. Mrs. Davis had been one of the very few people who had supported Tim’s moderately obsessive interest in Batman and Robin.

           She hadn’t really understood, but Tim missed her – missed being able to talk about it.

           “You’ve gotta have some theories,” Jason was saying, his voice persistent enough to pull Tim back out from inside his own head.

           “I don’t have any theories,” Tim said. And it was true enough. He’d had theories. But that was before. Now, he had evidence. Another bite of pizza kept him from saying that out loud.

           “Seriously? None?”

           Tim shrugged and counted the circles of peperoni left on his first slice. Nine more circles, fifteen more bites. His stomach was already wary of the food he was putting in it. If this interrogation lasted more than ten bites, Tim’s stomach would probably begin to protest.

           Adamantly.

           He peeked up at Jason. Who was somehow already finishing slice number three.

           “Then why’s the word on the street that you’ve got insider know-how on ole Batsy?”

           “I dunno,” Tim said with another shrug. Truthfully, the question was bothering him too.

           Tim had never been seen when he’d staked out a spot to catch the dynamic duo on patrol or in the midst of a big bust. Never. They would’ve confronted him then and there if they’d ever found him with a camera full of very clear photos of them in action.

           So, how did Robin know enough to suspect him?

           “Who’d you hear it from?”

           This time, Jason shrugged. “I dunno. People. But like seriously, you don’t have any fucking idea why someone would think you know Batman’s real name?”

           Tim shook his head silently. He wanted to save his pizza for the questions that really needed him to have something to do with his mouth other than blabbing out his secrets.

           “Huh.”

           Jason’s eyes were narrowed, not quite threateningly, but pressingly – like he wasn’t quite sure a threat would be appropriate, but he was certain that Tim wasn’t telling the truth. It was another look Tim had captured him using as Robin. A kind of gentled-down BatglareTM for Robin to use on uncooperative victims instead of how Batman used his on uncooperative criminals – because victims could be uncooperative for all kinds of non-criminal reasons.

           Tim suddenly understood why it was so effective.

           He squirmed in his seat and caved to the need to take another bite of pizza.

           But he wasn’t a victim. Was he?

           Suddenly, Robin’s presence at the museum seemed a lot more suspect. It made sense for Robin to be there because Tim had triggered some sort of invisible Batalarm on the quantum computer, but he’d gotten there way too quickly for that to have been what brought him to the museum initially. He’d’ve had to have already been inside the building.

           But why?

           Tim’s class had been scheduled for this museum trip over a month ago. He’d even talked about it briefly with Bruce Wayne himself at the charity gala he’d attended with his parents – that’s how he’d known about the WayneTech exhibition far enough in advance to plan effectively to sneak down to the basements.

           “When’d you start hearing that rumor?”

           Tim’s question was so sudden and loud in his own ears that he startled himself.

           He seemed to have startled Jason too – who was starting on pizza slice number five and appeared to have been in the middle of a sentence when Tim had jolted into questioning him.

           “Uh, about a week ago, I guess,” Jason explained. “Your name had come up a few times before that in regards to you being a fan, but it wasn’t too long ago that it changed to you having special access or some shit.”

           Tim nodded absently.

           Two weeks ago, there’d been a major drug bust in a neighborhood just over half a mile away from his school. Batman had been tipped off about the drug ring in the same way Tim had: kids who came to school high rode the bus home and the chalk marks on the benches at the stops used by the kids who were using weren’t terribly sophisticated code.

           Tim had snagged some really spectacular shots the night that bust went down.

           Several of Tim’s classmates had exhibited symptoms of withdrawal shortly after that. A few of those students – namely some who’d never seemed to be able to have a civil conversation or simply let Tim pass in silence – had stopped exhibiting those symptoms a few days later. Tim had assumed they’d found a new dealer.

           Maybe they’d needed to find something more valuable to trade too, to make up for getting their old dealer busted.

           Info on the Bat who’d busted them would be pretty valuable.

           Even just a lead on info would’ve been valuable. Tim had been outright stalking Batman and Robin for over a third of his entire lifespan, at this point, and only just recently figured out who Batman really was. And he was a verified genius who’d happenstantially acquired the right life experiences to recognize things like quadruple somersaults. Who’d circumstantially idolized and stalked two different costumed acrobats for several years before he realized they were actually the same person and begun to extrapolate from there.

           Nobody knew anything about Batman.

           A tip on someone who might, would be very valuable indeed.

           Tim was being interrogated by Robin because he was a victim. He just hadn’t been victimized quite yet.

           Tim dropped his pizza like it’d burned him and began to rifle through his backpack for the new cellphone his mother had bought him when school started. It was ‘so he could fit in with his peers’. It was too big to fit in his pocket and he’d never liked wearing a watch, so he’d had to dig to find it and figure out the time.

           It was 4:32pm.

           Shift change for the guards was in less than an hour and they were already definitely antsy for it. Most of the science staff were already heading home to beat the traffic, and most of the new guards wouldn’t be coming in for at least another twenty minutes.

           If Tim were going to lead a team to invade this place and capture an unwilling potential asset, he would do it in the next ten to fifteen minutes.

           “We have to get out of here.”

           Jason frowned, his confusion pronounced with wary unease. But he demonstrated a willingness to trust Tim at his word for no other reason than Tim wanted him to and clambered to his feet. He took his last slice of pizza with him though – and nabbed the two untouched pieces from Tim’s plate as he followed.

           “What’s wrong, Tim,” Jason asked, carefully nonchalant. His hands were full of pizza in the way Tim’s mouth had been to stop him from doing what he wanted to do when asked a stupid question he should’ve known better than to answer – Tim suspected that if Jason wasn’t holding onto the pizza he’d’ve grabbed Tim’s shoulder at this point.

           Tim didn’t know how to answer at all, let alone efficiently communicate what he’d deduced about their current situation. Especially not without revealing that he knew Jason was Robin and could guess why Robin was here talking to him to begin with.

           Jason was rapidly eating though the pizza that was keeping him from grabbing onto Tim’s arm to stop their not-so-subtle scramble towards the museum’s main exit. They made it to within sight of the doors before Jason had inhaled the last piece of crust, and Tim had probably ignored several unheard comments and questions about their rapid egress, when Jason finally lost the battle to avoid physical contact and wrapped his hand around Tim’s elbow.

           Tim swung around to face him as his inertia asserted dominance.

           “Timmy, what’s got you so spooked?” Jason asked. “C’mon. You can tell me. Anything. I won’t rat on you, even if it’s something bad. Lemme help.”

           “I can’t – it’s not – You don’t,” Tim could practically feel the whine building in his voice at all the false starts that his brain attempted to send through his mouth to make the act of communication happen. His brain apparently thought it worked something like magic.

           Tim was frustrated and embarrassed and still very acutely aware of the fact that they needed to get out of the building. Right now.

           And Jason was doing the Robin look, the other one – the one for the scared little bunnies of the victims they came across that needed to be soothed and calmed and promised that they had a friend somewhere in the cold cruel world. Tim knew why it worked – felt it working on him – and yet he was mortified that Robin thought it necessary.

           He wasn’t a bunny. He was an asset. Currently being targeted.

           Recentered, he focused and forced words to come out of his mouth intelligibly.

           “We have to get out of the building.”

           Jason had moved to holding onto both of Tim’s shoulders at some point – holding him steady, holding him still. He looked Tim right in the eye and asked gently, “Why?”

           The words got jammed up in Tim’s throat again and he squeaked.

           And then the museum’s windows exploded inward with a dramatic shower of glass and gunfire as more goons than Tim could count began to repel their way inside.

           Tim closed his eyes and winced at the bite of regret on how fracking close they’d been to getting out of this without any major complications.

           “That’s why,” he groaned.

-----

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[jeranasblog]

Let your guard down

Notes: Welcome to my first Tumblr post ever. I’ve only used it for messaging before but decided to share one of my works. It’s basically 25k words of fluff and smut. Enjoy <3

A huge thanks to @twokinkybeans who encouraged me to share my work here.

Click here to read it on Ao3

Summary: Tony had long ago accepted that he had no soul mate. When a moment of weakness forced him to search for his perfect match, he found Peter Parker, a young man from Queens. Tony is horrified that the universe paired him with a boy, not even old enough to drink. Resisting could be so easy for Tony, if only Peter wasn’t so tempting. Now it was up to Peter to convince him that he deserved some happiness.

Chapter 1

 Tony Stark was a busy man. It wasn’t unusual for him to work more than twelve hours a day, his best friend Rhodey even jokingly claimed that he lived in the lab. Although it was meant as a joke, Tony needs to admit there is some truth behind it. More than once he has spent his nights on a sofa next to his workspace, going so far that he bought a sleeping couch at the end of his most elaborated project. But Tony is happy this way, at least he tried to convince himself.

 He had always been a workaholic, but after his divorce from Pepper six months ago, it had become only worse. The marriage between the two of them hadn’t worked out and the only thing Tony regrets is that he didn’t see it from the beginning. They were too different.

 Tony loved to work and travel, looking for a spontaneous partner who could keep up with him. Sometimes he would decide to fly to Europe the next day or to start a new project which takes hours of his sleep. He wanted a partner who wasn’t insecure in the relationship, who didn’t blame himself when Tony left the bed in the middle of the night only to work on another project.

 Pepper, however, was looking for a father for her children. She needed a man who was responsible and supportive. Someone willing to start a family in the next few years, and therefor Tony wasn’t the right one. Maybe, it would have worked out if they had met a few years later, but for now Tony wasn’t ready to give up his independency.

 Both had decided that they would remain friends. Although it didn’t work out, they had had a lot of fun together, and Tony was happy to call her a friend.

 He was still feeling bad about the divorce. The problem wasn’t losing Pepper, it was more about being alone. Tony had enjoyed spending time with someone, telling another person everything about his day or the progress he had made in the lab. Pepper wasn’t so much into engineering, but she was a good listener.

 Of course, Tony could start dating again. He loved meeting new people, taking them to expensive restaurants and learning about their lives. But Tony’s money made it complicated. He had met his fair share of gold-diggers only interested in his wealth or reputation. There had been a couple of young women trying to use his fame to start a model career. He had even dated a young man once who was only interested in Tony paying off his depts caused by his gambling problems.

 Sometimes Tony enjoyed such company, even though he knew they only go out with him because he was famous. It amused him to see their attempts to extract money from him. He had never paid more than the food of the evening, but they kept trying. Nevertheless, he wasn’t interested in a fling right now. He wanted to keep someone by his side and spoil him without being asked for.

 Tony sighed. Being alone sucked, but at least there was no more Pepper complaining about his hours of work in the lab. So he took the chance and locked himself in there, knowing he could work for hours without being interrupted.

  He was currently working on a new improvement for his Iron Man suit. Last time he had been on an Avengers mission, a drone had destroyed the chip that connected F.R.I.D.A.Y. to his suit and he had been unable to communicate with his AI. Although the suit had still been working, Tony preferred to rely on her when his life was at stake. Therefor he tried to connect Friday to every particle of his nano technology. It would take a lot of time, but he thought he could make it work.

 Tony turned on ACDC on a volume that would scare off any neighbours if he had any. After his divorce with Pepper, he had left their house in Malibu while he had kept the company and Stark Tower. Pepper could have insisted on a fair share of Stark Industries, but she understood that it was important for him. He still owned most of the company, while keeping her as the CEO. To be honest, she always did a better job than him.

 Tony had decided to move into the Stark Tower. It was empty anyway, except of a few Avengers who come and go as they please. He had enlarged the lab and had brought all the suits so he could work on them. He felt much more at home in the tower than he did in the Malibu house anyway.

 Five hours later Tony was still working in the lab. He hadn’t eaten all day, something Pepper had complained about very often. Sometimes she had ordered food for him so that he wouldn’t starve, but now with her gone there was no one but F.R.I.D.A.Y. to take care of him.

 That’s when he felt it for the first time. It started with a metallic taste on the back of his tongue. He was confused but kept working. When dizziness set in, Tony blamed the lack of food and ordered Thai from his favourite restaurant. Half an hour and a meal later, the nausea started and he could no longer work. He took a break and dropped onto a chair. When his vision began to fade he knew something was very, very wrong.

 Before he lost consciousness, he managed to get F.R.I.D.A.Y. to call Rhodey. After that everything went dark.

 ~*~

  When he opened his eyes again, everything was bright. He blinked and tried unsuccessfully to shut out the sun light that was burning in his eyes. It took a few seconds to get used to it, but then he began to see.

 He was in a hospital room. Everything was white and sterile and on his left side there was a huge window front. He lay in a bed that was set up in the middle of the room. It was untypically large and comfortable for a hospital bed, so he concluded that he was in a private and expensive room.

 The room was sparsely furnished with a TV, a closet and two chairs. He wasn’t alone in the room, Pepper and Rhodey sat by his side. Pepper sighed in relief when she saw that he was awake.

 “Where am I?” Tony’s voice sounded raspy, like he hadn’t used it in days.

 “Tony, I’m glad you’re awake. You’re in a hospital.” Rhodey explained and Tony had to suppress a snort. Of course, he could see that for himself. He wanted to know which hospital he was in, but there were more important questions.

 “What happened?” He didn’t really remember much. He’d tried to call Rhodey, and a second later everything went dark.

 “Oh Tony.” Pepper’s voice was shivering, and he could see she had been crying. “We don’t really know what happened. Rhodey and I were working when F.R.I.D.A.Y. called. You weren’t answering, so Rhodey asked her what was going on. She told us you were lying on the floor. Rhodey called 911 right away and then called me after. They took you to the hospital in a helicopter and here we are. Don't you remember anything?"

 Tony tried but shook his head after a few seconds. “I remember getting dizzy and then passing out, but I don’t know why.”

 Rhodey looked at him worried. “Maybe the doctors know more? We should've called them anyway, as soon as you woke up.”

 Tony nodded uncomfortably under his best friend’s gaze. He liked having attention, he didn't want to be the object of worry. Rhodey pressed a red button to call the doctor.

  A moment later, a middle-old man dressed in a white coat entered the room. He held a clipboard in his hand and approached them.

 “Mr. Stark, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

 “I’m okay, I guess.” Tony answered. “My head and my chest hurt, but I guess that’s normal, right?” He looked at the doctor who wasn’t answering his questions.

 Instead, he turned to Rhodey and Pepper. “I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I need to speak with Mr. Stark about his medical condition, but you're welcome to come back tomorrow.”

 Pepper and Rhodey nodded and said goodbye to Tony. Then they left the room, leaving him alone with the doctor.”

  “Well, doc. What’s up? Am I gonna be alright?” Tony was joking to cheer himself up.

 The doctor looked at him seriously. “I’m really sorry, Mr. Stark, but I think we have a problem.”

 “A problem?” Tony looked at him confused.

“I’m afraid your collapse wasn’t caused by your bad eating habits.”

 “It wasn’t?” Tony knew he sounded stupid at that moment, but he didn’t care. A bad feeling spread through his chest.

 The doctor took a deep breath. “Have you looked at your arc reactor lately?”

 Tony shook his head and slowly lowered his eyes. The blue glowing tech in the middle of his chest was familiar to him, but as soon as he became aware, he noticed the change. When he first built the arc reactor, it had emitted strong blue light. Now it glowed only weakly.

 “I never noticed it.” He really didn’t. Even though he passed a mirror every day, he never paid attention to the tech in his chest. He hated this part of his body because it reminded him of his time in Afghanistan. A time he wanted to forget.

 “Do you know what’s happening, doc?” He looked at the man, unsure how he should feel.

 “We've run some blood tests. Your body seems to reject the arc technology. If you keep wearing it, you’ll poison yourself.” The doctor sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

 Tony’s blood ran cold. He knew what it meant. “But if I don’t wear it, the metal in my chest will slowly kill me.”

 “I am really sorry, Mr. Stark. If you continue wearing the arc reactor, the plutonium will poison your blood. You need to give your body time to break down the toxin. We can cut down the amount of plutonium to stop the poisoning process, but then the magnet won’t be strong enough. The metal will start to move towards your heart again.”

 Tony swallowed, he understood. “How much time if we reduce the amount?” He sounded cold and composed, even though fear was raging inside his body.

 The doctor couldn’t look him in the eye. “A month, maybe two.”

 Tony winced and went pale. He had expected the poisoning to be severe, but one month was a very short time. He took a deep breath. “What about a surgery to remove the metal from my heart?”

 The doctor’s face was filled with pity and the billionaire couldn’t even look at him. “There is an option, but the survival rate is about five percent.”  

 His emotions threatened to surface, but he fought them off with everything he had. He didn’t want to cry in front of the man.

 Fuck, he wasn’t ready to die. He was Tony Stark, he could have anything he wanted. He had more money than he could ever spend in his whole life, his friendships with Rhodey was better than ever and he was close to coming to good terms with Pepper again. His life had been better lately, but typically for Tony it couldn’t stay like that. Something had to come up to ruin everything.

 The doctor tore him away from his ugly thoughts. “There might be a way. Have you ever heard about soulbonds?”

  Of course, Tony had heard about soul bonds before, well everybody had. He was living in a world where the universe paired each individual with a counterpart, a soul mate. Almost every adult has a name written in black ink somewhere on their body, marking them for their soulmate. It appears as soon as your partner turned twenty-one.

 They say that such a relationship is a perfect one, that soulmates are meant to be together. There is a whole bunch of crappy romance novels out there about people finding the right one and living happily ever after. They say you know you are destined for each other as soon as your mate touches your mark.

 Tony didn’t believe in that shit. He couldn’t deny the lower divorce rate of soul bonds, but there were very few people out there who actually meet their soulmates. Your other half could be living in another country and it is possible to never meet them in your whole life. If the universe really intended a soulmate to be the only one, it would at least make sure you meet your other half.

 On top of that, there are many happy people in other relationships. Your soulmate may be a perfect match, but there are other good matches out there, other possibilities of happiness.

 Over the years Tony had received many letters from people claiming to be his soulmate. He had paid no attention to them; they were fake anyway. Because Tony Stark didn’t have a soulmate.

  When he was younger, he had hoped that one day a name would appear on his body, showing him his other half. Close to his twenty-first birthday he had spent days in front of the mirror hoping his body would reveal the name of his soulmate. But it never did.

 When he turned thirty, the first doubts came. Still no sign had appeared on his body, his soulmate had to be at least nine years younger than him. Now, just over ten years later, Tony was convinced there was no other half for him. There were a bunch of people who didn’t have a soulmate, or the mate had died before his twenty-first birthday.

 Knowing that he was not sharing a bond with anyone, his hope faded.

  “I don’t have a soulmate.” Tony said dryly. “There is no tattoo on my body. There never was.”

 The doctor remained silent as his fingers tapped against his clipboard. After several minutes he started to talk again. “It might be possible that your soulmate died, but it is also possible that he is not yet twenty-one.”

 Tony looked at him in disbelief as anger seethed in his chest. It was the first moment he was unable to conceal his emotions. “Excuse me, I’m over forty. How could my soulmate be younger than twenty-one?”

 The man tried to calm him down. “There have been cases where-“

 Tony interrupted him. “I don’t care about that. I won’t molest someone not even old enough to drink.”

 “So you prefer to die?”

 Suddenly all the anger disappeared. What remained was a feeling of emptiness. It took him a couple of minutes to think about his situation.

 “You see, Mr. Stark. Having a soulmate beside you will increase the chances of survival. The human heart is weak. It’s no problem to remove the metal in your chest, but your heart may be too weak to withstand the strain Having your soul mate by your side would give your body strength to endure the surgery.”

 Tony suppressed a snort. That sounded more like a shitty romcom or advice from a horoscope, but he didn’t want to die. He pulled himself together and looked the doctor in the eye. “All right, I'll give it a shot. Just tell me what I have to do to find out if I have a soul mate.”

 The doctor smiled, appreciating his decision to fight. “There is a possibility to find out the name of your potential match without him being twenty-one.”

 Tony raised his eyebrows.

 “It’s all about magic.”

 Tony groaned, he hated magic. He’s sick of all the sparkling magic shit. He is a man of science, always trying to solve a problem using knowledge that people can understand. But he had learned firsthand from Doctor Strange that sometimes it takes more to survive. He swallowed his stubbornness and looked at the doctor again. “All right, I need another sample of your blood. I know a magician who can help you with that, but it won’t be cheap.”

 Tony shrugged; money wasn’t important. “How long will it take?”

 The doctor smiled. “For you? One days.”

 After he took a sample of Tony’s blood, the doctor left his room. Suddenly Tony started to feel alone. He tried to hold on to the hope that there might be a soulmate for him out there. Still, as soon as he closed his eyes, he began to cry. He wasn't ready to die yet. He decided he wanted to fight.

  ~*~

 When Pepper first heard about the possibility that he might die, she started to cry. She was sitting on a chair next to his hospital bed when he told her what the doctor had said.

 “But there's a five percent chance, isn't there?” She asked between ugly sobs. “And maybe you do have a soulmate.”

 Tony who had been crying all night, felt drained. There were no tears left for him, but he still felt the full fear. He sighed. “Yes, Pep. But five percent is very low.”

 “But your soulmate-“ She tried to protest, but Tony cut her short.

 “I’m forty-two years old. What are the odds I have a soulmate who isn’t even allowed to drink?” It hurt, but he needed her to focus on the situation. There was no more room for hope, he had to decide what to do.

 “Pepper, I need you to promise me one thing.” He looked at her forcefully.

 She replied immediately. “Anything.”

 “Take care of the company in case I die, okay?”

 She started crying harder and shook her head. “You’re not gonna die.” She didn’t sound sure.

 Tony sighed. “It’s possible I’ll survive, but I have to make sure SI is in safe hands in case I don’t make it.”

 “Let’s wait for the stupid magician.” He decided. “If he doesn’t give a name, I’ll sign the company over to you.”

 Pepper accepted, even though she was still trying to convince herself he would be fine.

  She was still there, when his doctor entered the room followed by a tall, skinny man who was covered in black tattoos. Tony assumed he was the magician, what a cliché. He hated the man instantly.

 “Hello, Mr. Stark.” His doctor greeted him. “I'd like you to meet Mr. Lewis. He’s the magician I told you about.”

 Tony hid his distaste for anyone involved in magic and nodded at the man.

 “If you want the result to remain private, I have to ask your friend to leave now.” The doctor pointed at Pepper, but Tony shook his head.

 “It’s fine. She can stay if she wants to. I’d tell her anyway.” His trust made Pepper smile.

 “All right, Mr. Lewis. You can start now. Mr. Stark, I’m recording your vitals during the test.”

 The magician who had been quiet, turned to Tony after the request.

 “Good afternoon, Mr. Stark.” His voice was soft and friendly. “Let me tell you briefly what I intend to do. Your doctor gave me a sample of your blood yesterday. I will perform a small ritual to reveal the name of your soulmate. It won’t hurt much.”

 The billionaire tried to be hopeful, though he doubted he had a match. With a deep breath he dispelled the bad thoughts. “Is it a common to test for a match with magic?” Tony was proud of himself, there was no sign of sarcasm in his voice.

 “Of course not, Mr. Stark.” His doctor replied. “It’s only allowed when someone is facing death. On top of that, not everyone can to afford it.”

 Tony sighed. “Can we get it over with?”

 The tattooed man nodded and asked Tony to give him his wrist. Then he drew a symbol on the inside of his arm. He was disgusted to discover that the colour was a mixture consisting of his own blood.

 The feeling that flowed through him was strange. It was like a hundred tiny pinpricks on his skin. He shivered, not really hurt but uncomfortable. Slowly a part of his right forearm turned black, revealing a name written in intricate writing: Peter Parker.

  Tony was shocked and stared incredulously at his forearm. He had never expected to really have a soulmate. Fuck, he was bound to a child who wasn’t even allowed to drink. All those years, he had wished a name would appear on his body. Now, when he was forty-two years old, he found out that he actually had a soul mate long after he had accepted that he didn't have a partner. He waited for it to turn out to be a joke, but when he looked up he saw three bewildered faces.

 The doctor was the first to get a grip and he smiled at Tony. "Wonderful news, Mr Stark. Your chances of survival have increased dramatically in the last few minutes. Congratulations."

 Tony still couldn’t believe it and looked to Pepper for help. She understood right away. “Gentleman, would you be so kind as to leave us alone for a moment?” It was her business voice.

 Tony breathed a sigh of relief when the two man had left the room. “I really have a match.” He allowed himself a first glimmer of hope. “What am I going to do now?”

 Pepper grinned at him widely. “Tony, that’s great news. Be happy first.”

 He smiled carefully. Although he didn’t really want a soulmate who could be his son, he was relieved to know he had a better chance of survival.

 He pondered for a second before turning to Pepper. “Did I have anything with me when they brought me here? Anything that might have access to F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

 “I brought your watch. Would that work?”

 Tony smiled relieved and nodded while Pepper rummaged through her purse. After a couple of seconds, she took out his gold watch.

 “F.R.I.D.A.Y. look for a boy called Peter Parker. Limit the matches to possible soulmates.” Tony demanded. “Leave out everyone above the age of twenty-one and if there are more than one hits left, look for the one most likely to be my match.”

 “There is one Peter Parker who matches your description, Sir.” The familiar voice of his KI answered.

 “Great, give me information on him. Age, family, friends, profession.”

 Tony prayed that the boy was at least eighteen years old. It would be a scandal anyway, he could not hide his tattoo forever, but he did not want to be accused of child abuse.

 “Peter Parker is twenty years old.” Tony felt the tension of the last days taken away from him. When he looked at Pepper, she showed signs of relief in equal measure. At least his match was an adult. “He lives with his aunt in New York, Queens. His parents died when he was younger. Peter is currently pursuing a PhD in biochemical engineering at NYU.”

 Tony looked impressed. However bad the soulshit is, his soulmate and he seemed to share the same interest. That was something he could work with.

 “Anything else I should know about him?”

 It was a short pause before F.R.I.D.A.Y. responded. “Peter Parker is going to start an internship at Stark Industries next Monday.”

 Tony suppressed the urge to hit his head against the wall. Fuck, he was the boss of his soulmate.

  ~*~

   Peter Parker wore Anthony Stark’s name for everyone visible on his left wrist since his birth. Normally nobody was interested in a soulmark tattoo, it was a common occurrence that people have the black ink on body parts that everyone can see. Peter on the other hand tried to hide his mark as well as possible.

 The first time he had been bullied because of the tattoo was even before he had been in primary school. Not only was it unusual for a small child to have a soul mark on him (his partner had been over 21 when he still needed diapers), but the name on his wrist was Anthony Stark, billionaire and tech genius. Everyone thought Peter’s family had tattooed it there to marry him off wealthy.

 It wasn’t uncommon for parents to fake soul marks. There had been a couple of celebrity scandals where fans younger than twenty-one claimed to be the soulmate of the famous person. It turned out to be a lie when the celebrities touched the soulmarks without feeling a spark and they discovered it was just a normal tattoo. That leads to rich and famous people being more careful about soul propositions, usually waiting until their match turned twenty-one.

 Peter knew it, so he didn’t even try to contact the billionaire, he wouldn’t believe him anyway. Instead, he ignored all the stupid comments of his peers and got accustomed to wear a watch every day to cover his left wrist. The only three people who knew the truth about his tattoo were his aunt May and his best friends Ned and MJ.

 Although Peter had never met Tony Stark before, he already knew they had something in common. The love of science. While the billionaire was a successful owner of the tech company Stark Industries, Peter was studied biochemical engineering at NYU. He was almost finished, which is why he applied for a Stark Industries internship. Peter had hesitated in the beginning, afraid to work for his soulmate, but in the end it was what he really wanted. He would never meet Tony Stark anyway. Well, maybe after his twenty-first birthday.

  “Peter.” His aunt interrupted him from his thoughts. “You’ll never guess what I just got.” Peter who was sitting in the middle of his bed shrugged when she shouted from the kitchen. He hadn’t even noticed that she had come home from work.

 “What happened?” He asked as he sat down at the kitchen table with her.

 With a broad grin May, took out a letter. It was plain white, but in the upper left corner was the logo of Stark Industries.

 “Gimme.” Peter ordered and saw that she hadn’t opened it yet.

 May laughed and pushed the letter closer to him. Peter had no patience, so he tore it open.

 “Read out loud.” His aunt commanded.

 He cleared his throat playfully. “Dear Mr. Parker, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

 May only started to groan. “Peter, stop the Harry Potter references. You’re such a nerd.”

 “All right, all right.” Peter giggled before he got serious again. “Dear Mr. Parker, Congratulations! We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted for an Internship at Stark Industries starting Monday, the…” Peter looked at the words twice. “May, it starts in five days.”

 “Well, that’s great I guess.” She starred at him questioningly. “Monday’s not gonna be a problem for you, is it?”

 Peter thought for a second but then shook his head. “No, the semester is almost over. Won’t be a problem for me.”

 May stood up, walked around the table, and gave him a big hug. “Peter, I’m so proud of you.”

 He felt happiness bubbling in his chest. He was proud of himself, too. Knowing that one day Tony Stark will find out that he was his soulmate he wanted to achieve his goals before the billionaire did. He couldn’t stand people accusing him of being successful solely because the universe had matched him with Tony Stark. He wanted to show everyone, including the billionaire, what he was capable off.

 Maybe an internship at Stark Industries was not a symbol of independence from his soul mate, but Tony could not know anything about him yet. The tattoo of his name will be revealed on his twenty-first birthday, which was three months away. No, Peter had been accepted because of his abilities and qualifications. It was a satisfying thought.

  "Let's celebrate." May made a spontaneous decision, even though it was Thursday night and she had to work early the next morning. "How do you feel about pizza? You can call Ned and MJ and ask them over. How does a Harry Potter marathon sound?"

 Peter looked at her with big eyes. "But, May, you have to work tomorrow."

 She laughed and waved his hand off. "Don't worry about me. I'll leave you alone after the second movie so I can get some sleep."

 It didn’t take him twenty minutes to prepare for his friends’ arrival. The pizza was ordered, the couch was transformed into a blanket fort and the stack of his Harry Potter DVD’s was draped in front of the TV. The movie night could come.

Chapter 2

 When Monday came around, Tony was restless. He had been discharged from the hospital last Friday and had spent the whole weekend in the lab. Although his chances of survival were increased because of Peter Parker, there was still the risk that the surgery could go wrong. Therefor he had prepared everything necessary in case he died.

 First of all, he had instructed Pepper to destroy all his Iron Man suits in case he didn’t make it. He didn’t want the government to use them as weapons. Then he had documented his projects for Stark Industries in such a way that his company's engineers could continue his work even if he couldn't do it himself. On Sunday night he had called his lawyer to amend the will he had written a few years ago.

 During the weekend he had kept himself busy, but on Monday morning nervousness returned. He needed to talk to Peter Parker and put his future in the hands of a stranger. Death or trust. He didn't want either one.

  His mood was terrible when he started his working day. His employees avoided him; Pepper had probably warned them beforehand. He’s obnoxious when he’s having a bad day and she knew it. He carried an extra-large espresso while he went looking for her.

 Tony felt guilty and that was his biggest problem. He was never very good at dealing with guilt. He still blamed himself for selling his father’s weapons all those years and he thought he was responsible for everyone he couldn’t save during an Iron Man mission. On top of that, the divorce from Pepper was on him. Of course, they hadn’t worked out together, and there are always two people in a relationship, but it was his unwillingness to change that had led to an end. At least Pepper had tried to cope with him.

 And now, he was looking for his soulmate, who was practically a minor, just to save his own life. Tony didn’t want to involve more people in his mess and definitely not in Peter-college-student-Parker who wasn’t even allowed to drink. There was no other choice, but he swore to himself that he would keep his hands of the boy until he was twenty-one. He was convinced that it couldn’t be so hard to keep it in his pants.

  Trying to keep himself together, Tony knocked on Pepper’s office door. It used to be his office before he made her CEO.

 “Hi, Peps.” He greeted her with a fake smile on his face. “How’s the plan for today?”

 Pepper sat behind her metal desk and looked up from a pile of documents as he opened the door. “Tony, good to see you. You’re not even late. Everything ok?”

 “Never better.” Tony lied and sprawled himself on a chair opposite her. He took a big sip of his extra-large espresso and enjoyed the triple shot caffeine. Closing his eyes to savour the taste Tony put his legs up on her desk. She looked at him reproachfully but didn’t say a word.

 “Are you even allowed to drink that much caffeine? Not that it worsens your… condition.” She sounded truly worried.

 Tony snorted. It was an unspoken order not to mention his health and mostly Pepper and Rhodey complied with his request. Seemed that he couldn’t always be so lucky.

 “Peps, dear.” Even Pepper understood that his cheerily voice was fake. “I’m dying of plutonium poisoning, not caffeine.”

 She slapped her hand on her desk and the sudden sound made him jump. “You are not going to die.”

 Tony raised his hands defensively to calm her down. “Ok, ok. Just kidding. I’m not gonna die.”

 She looked at him, anger written on her face. “This is not a subject for jokes.” A few seconds later she started crying, rage completely forgotten. “I’m sorry, Tony. I didn’t want to lose my temper. I’m just worried, all right?”

 Tony got up, walked around the table and took her in his arms. She clung to him as if he would vanish in the next few seconds. “I care for you, Peps. And I’m not planning on dying anytime soon, all right?”

 She nodded, took a deep breath and composed herself. “Tony, Peter will be arriving any moment for his internship. I will head him off and bring him to one of the conference rooms. You can just wait for him there.”

 The mention of the boy soured his mood a bit, but he knew he couldn’t avoid Peter. “All right. Thanks for your help, I appreciate it.”

 Pepper smiled encouragingly before she left him alone with his thoughts.

  Waiting for Peter Parker turned out to be one of the most uncomfortable situations of his life. If there was one thing Tony was afraid of, it was his thoughts, and when he was alone in the room, he had plenty of time to give in to them. He started to go crazy until a knock tore him from his thoughts.

 “Come in.”

 The door opened to reveal a vision of a boy stumbling into the room. Tony had seen many beautiful people in his life. He had dated a whole line of up-and-coming models. You'd think he'd seen everything, but nothing could have prepared him for Peter Parker.

 The photo of Peter on his driver's license that Tony had seen because of F.R.I.D.A.Y. didn’t do him justice. The boy was gorgeous. Milky white skin, high cheekbones and plump lips people would murder for. His brown hair was curly, and his brown eyes looked as if he was a reincarnation of Bambi himself. Tony was enchanted.

 The boy was wearing fitting dress pants and a white shirt, suitably dressed for an internship. Tony unconsciously licked his lips. The shirt emphasized Peter’s slim waist and broad shoulders and the pants did nothing to hide his muscular tights. To the billionaire, he looked like a boy straight out of his wet dreams. Shit, so much for keeping out the inappropriate thoughts until his soul mate turns twenty-one. Just great.

 “Good morning, I’m Tony Stark. Pleased to meet you.” Tony couldn’t smother the flirtatious undertone. He moved a few steps closer to the boy and hold out his hand.

 Peter stared at him somewhat confused and did not move for an uncomfortable period of time. His innocent eyes were huge, taking in Tony’s appearance. Luckily, the billionaire wore one of his best tailored suits. He couldn’t stop the warm feeling spreading inside him when the boy looked him over.

 After a few heartbeats Peter realized that he was supposed to shake the outstretched hand and he started to blush. Tony grinned smugly; the boy was wonderful.

 “I’m sorry M-Mister Stark, Sir. My name is Peter Parker.” His voice was trembling, and he squeezed Tony’s hand slightly.

 Nobody could have prepared the billionaire for this innocent touch. As soon as his fingers brushed against Peters, he felt a pleasant shiver run down his spine and his hand started to tingle. On top of that, he noticed a faint spark of arousal that startled him a little. How could a simple touch cause such feelings in him? Tony could tell by Peter’s hazy eyes that the boy felt the same.

 Tony quickly pulled back his hand, taking a deep breath to get a grip on himself. He remembered the boy’s age and the upcoming surgery. It was no time for him to lust after Peter.

 “Mr. Parker, nice to meet you. Mrs. Potts picked you up in the lobby?”

 Peter nodded, still with a confused look on his face.

 “And did she tell you why I wanted to talk to you?” Tony prayed she had already told the boy part of it, but according to Peter’s questioning face, she hadn’t.

 “No, Sir.” The boy replied overwhelmed.

 Tony took off his suit coat leaving Peter with mixed feelings of confusion and arousal. He saw Peter’s gaze linger on his chest where his shirt was stretched across his muscles. The marvellous starring made it difficult for Tony to focus on the conversation.

 Tony fixed his gaze on Peter while he was rolling up his sleeves, revealing his tattoo to the younger man. He could see how shocked Peter was as his eyes moved across his exposed forearm.

 “How is this possible.” Peter asked confused. “I’m not twenty-one yet. You shouldn’t be able to see it.”

 The boy came closer, slightly tracking his name with his fingers. Tony shuddered and clenched his hands into fists. Every touch of his soulmate set of a wave of arousal running straight to his neglected cock. The billionaire felt it stir in his pants and he bit his tongue to regain his control.

 The boy seemed to share his feelings, Tony could see his dilated pupils, drowning his brown eyes in black. He pulled his arm back abruptly. When Peter realized what he’d done, he blushed a deep red and stumbled an apology.

 Tony tried to distract himself from the sexual tension by focusing on explaining his tattoo. “Have you ever heard about magicians revealing soul marks?”

 The boy watched him expectantly. “Yes, it’s possible, but really expensive.”

 Tony nodded affirmative. “Well, there was an incident that forced me to look for a potential soulmate.”

 “An incident?”

 Tony cleared his throat. He didn’t want to tell the boy everything about his dizzy spell, but he had no choice. He leaned against conference desk and crossed his arms as a barrier between the boy and himself.

 “A few days ago, I passed out in my lab. Turned out I have a few problems with my arch reactor.” He unconsciously touched the middle of his chest. “Well, there’s no other way but surgery to remove the metal from my body that’s wandering towards my heart. Unfortunately, the chances of survival are slim unless I have a soulmate who’ll keep me company during the surgery.”

 Peter was at a loss for words. He was gaping at Tony like a fish and if Tony wasn’t so afraid of rejection, he would have called it cute. “Does that mean you could die?”

 Tony shrugged. “Possible, but unlikely when you stick by my side.” The billionaire sighed, swallowing his pride. “Peter, I’m really sorry to ask this of you, but there is no other choice.”

 Peters eyes widen before his face turned determined. He threw himself into Tony’s arm, clinging to him like an octopus. None of them noticed that a hug between them might be weird, considering they haven’t even met before today. “Of course, I’ll help you. I've waited all my life for this. Your tattoo was on my skin since birth.”

 Tony flinched at the words, reminded how young the boy was, but soon his emotions were taken over by relief. He relaxed in the embrace and began unconsciously stroking the boy's back. With Peter's help, his survival would be very likely.

 Tony rested his chin on Peter’s head, the gesture way too familiar for two people who had just met, but none of them cared. Tony felt as if gravity was pulling him towards Peter. He buried his nose in Peter’s curly hair, enjoying the sweet smell of the younger man. It made him dizzy with want.

 The boy pulled back a few inches from the hug and tried not to look at Tony. “I’m sorry, Mister Stark. I shouldn’t hug you like this. I just can’t control myself around you.” Shame was written all over his face.

 Though Tony knew he should leave it at that, he grabbed the boy’s chin forcing Pete to look into his eyes. “Shh, Pete. I guess, you feel it too. No need to run from me, my sweet boy.”

 Peters eyelid fluttered due to the pet name and a small moan escaped his pink lips. Tony couldn’t resist glaring at them. They looked pink and luscious and Tony lifted a hand caressing the lower lip with his thumps. They felt wet, probably from Peter licking his lips because of his nervousness. His cock twitched from the delicious sight.

 Slowly he pressed his fingertip into the wet heat, causing the boy to whimper his name. “Mr. Stark, please.” The boy didn’t even know what he was pleading for.

 Tony growled and lost his patience. He buried his other hand into the boy’s curls, tugging him closer until the smaller body touched his. Then he forced Peter’s head back and pressed his lips against the younger ones.

 He couldn’t stop the deep moan at the contact, swallowed by the boy’s mouth. Tony hadn’t believed in the soul shit before, making fun of all the shitty romance novels and the descriptions of the loss of control. But here he was, kissing a barely legal boy, unable to think about anything else than the wet hot mouth. His body was no longer listening to his command.

 Tony intensified the kiss greedily, sucking and nipping on Peter’s plumb lips until the boy moaned. When the boy’s lips parted, Tony sneaked a tongue inside. He explored Peter’s mouth inch by inch, caressing the boy’s tongue and encouraging him to kiss back.

 Peter wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck, leaning into the older man for support. He started to move his lips, kissing the billionaire back. Tony enjoyed all the small noises the boy made. He whimpered when Tony moved his lips and moan when their tongues touched. Peter was a vision straight out of Tony’s wet dreams, a responsive little minx.

 Tony wanted to bend the boy over the conference table, rip of his pants and burry himself in that tight little ass. He imagined how wrecked the boy would look, how he would take Tony’s cock and suck him in, clenching when he reached his climax. He had never felt so out of control, barely able to stop himself from fucking the boy in a room that wasn’t even locked.

 Tony pulled back from the kiss, lips wandering lower to suck bruises on the boy’s neck. He felt a possessive urge building up inside him, wanting to see more of his marks on the boy’s body additionally to his tattoo. Peter moaned as he sucked and offered his throat to him. It was tempting to lose himself inside the boy, getting Peter to call him daddy when he split him open with his cock.

  At first Tony didn’t notice when Peter started to move. He was too busy marking his skin to pay attention to the rest of the boy’s body. But when something hard was pressed against his legs, he saw Peter rubbing himself all over him. The boy was marvellous trapped in his arousal, his shyness long forgotten. The boy only listened to his instincts and soothed the pain in his middle by seeking friction from him.

 Tony pressed his leg against Peter’s clothed dick, giving him more room to satisfy his needs. He felt his own cock hardening in his jeans. Peter’s head had fallen back, his throat bared to invite Tony to leave more marks. He couldn’t resist.

 As the boy’s breath quickened up, he knew Peter was getting close. Although he enjoyed their little encounter, he was way too old to come from a little bit of friction. As alluring as Peter was, year of experience helped him to hold himself together.

 Peter, however, didn’t seem to heave much stamina. Tony needed to admit that he liked that his baby boy could come from rubbing against his leg. His effect on the boy was flattering. Peter’s movements became more and more uncoordinated as he came closer to the end and Tony grabbed his hips to prevent the boy from falling.

 After a long stroke, Peter cried out, his whole body tensed. He shook uncontrollably, slumping against Tony’s body with a content smile on his face. Tony watched the boy falling apart under his hands, looking perfect while he came. His cheeks were red, eyes blissfully closed, and his mouth formed a perfect o. He wanted to keep him in his bed forever.

 When the boy had clamed down, the billionaire kissed him on his forehead and helped him to sit down on a chair. His own erection hurt, but he ignored it. Peter grimaced when he felt how sticky his pants were.

 There was silence between them, only disturbed by Peter’s fast breathing. As the boy came down from his height, Tony’s remorse returned. Fuck, not only had he made out like a teenager at work, he had even taken advantage of his barely legal soulmate. Pepper would kill him.

 He felt the guilt returning, consuming him as it always did. The familar panic rose in him, leaving him with a sudden urge to leave. What had he done to Peter, to the sweet innocent boy? Only the fact that he hadn’t come or bend the boy over made it a little bit better. At least he hadn’t crossed the last line.

 He could not look Peter in the eye during his next words. “Mister Parker, I’m deeply sorry for my behaviour.” He saw the boy flinched out of the corner of his eye.

 “I’m really sorry, but I have to go. Work.” His voice sounded cheerful although he felt like crying. The excuse was horrible. “I’ll contact you about the surgery.”

 And then Tony left the room, still struggling with a hard one, and leaving a hurt boy behind. He really was a monster.

  ~*~

  His day had actually started quiet well before everything went south. May had woken him with a large cup of coffee, nothing better to start the day with. He had woken up early so there was plenty of time left to get ready unhurriedly.

 The subway had been on time, and twenty minutes early Peter had entered the Stark tower. The letter told him to report to the reception when he arrived. The secretary had called someone, leaving Peter to wait on a comfortable couch in the lobby.

 Ten minutes later, a beautiful blonde woman had approached him, and he had recognized her as Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries and Tony Stark’s ex-wife. He had unconsciously straightened his back. Surely, she wasn’t here to pick him up, that would be highly uncommon for someone in a position like hers, but she had walked over to him and had hold out her hand. She had told him something about a meeting that had left him deeply confused and had ordered him to follow her.

 Peter had been completely overwhelmed, following her like a biddy until they had reached a double wing door. Then she had knocked and left him alone, standing in an unknown building without a clue about what was going on.

 When an oddly familiar voice had told him to enter, he had stumbled into the room, greeted by the sight of Tony Stark, billionaire, sexgod and his soulmate. He had gaped like a fish, unable to form words and overwhelmed with attraction for the man.

 Before he knew it, he was confronted with Mr. Stark’s potential death and his own mind breaking arousal. His personal highlight of embarrassment had been him rubbing himself all over the billionaire until he had come in his own pants, leaving them sticky with his release. And then Mister Stark had left him alone in the room, probably disgusted by his slutty behaviour.

  Here he was now, sitting in an empty conference room with ruined pants and no clue how to get back to the lobby. He couldn’t stop the tears spilling from his eyes and he sniffled slightly. How could a day start so well and end so horrible?

 He wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his chin on them feeling like a small child. The only thing he wanted right now was going back to his bed, but he was trapped here on the first day of his internship.

  A knock on the door ripped him out of his thoughts. He looked up just in time to see Mrs. Potts opening the door.

 “Tony, Mr. Parker?” She asked, entering the room and her gaze fell on the lonely boy crouched on the chair.

 She sighed and closed her eyes at the sight of him, taking a deep breath before her face was filled with pity. “Mr. Parker, can I call you Peter?”

 He could only nod.

 “Let me guess, the conversation with Tony wasn’t that good.” She handled the situation as if it wasn’t the first of it’s kind. “He was an idiot, right?”

 Peter looked at her with wide eyes, but he relaxed a bit. “Well, yeah.” His voice was hoarse from crying.

 “Don’t take everything the man tells you serious, Peter. Tony has a good heart, but he makes terrible decision. Did he explain you the situation with your soulmarks?”

 Peter starred at her in surprise. He didn’t expect her to know about the shared tattoos but being the CEO of his company and his ex-wife, she was probably informed about what was going on.

 “I’m glad he has a soulmate, even though you’re much younger than he is. Aside from the surgery, he deserves to be happy. But I could hit his head seeing him fucking it up again.” She looked him straight in the eye. "Peter, Tony is a complicated man, he's consumed with guilt. He doesn't like that you're so young, but it's not about you, it's about your age. You understand that?"

 He raised his head and smiled at her, relieved that Tony’s doubts weren’t about his behaviour. When he spoke, his voice was soft. “I understand Mrs. Potts. Don’t worry, I’ll help with the surgery. I also understand that I’m very young compared to him which is one reason why I’ve never reached out with my tattoo. I’m willing to keep up with him, but I’m also a human being. I don’t want to deal with rejection. Apart from the surgery, he can contact me when he feels ready.”

 She smiled at him after his words. “Peter, you seem like a good young man with a lot of patience. Maybe you’re exactly what he needs. You can go home today if you want. Your internship can start tomorrow. And besides, call me Pepper.”

 “Thank you, Pepper. I’d really like to go back home.”

 She smiled and walked him back to the lobby. She even called a cab so he didn’t have to take the subway.

  ~*~

 After a shower to clean the mess in his pants, Peter was restless and didn’t know what to do. He flipped onto his bed trying to get work done for his PhD, but he couldn’t focus on the equations. His mind seemed to wander back to the events of the day. Although he knew now that Mr. Stark’s behaviour was caused by his own guilt, he was still a little embarrassed by his own behaviour.

 He had jumped the man as soon as possible, couldn’t resist the temptation. The feelings had been intense, way stronger than anything he had felt when experimenting with a couple of college boys. Mr. Stark hadn’t even touched him under his clothes, and he had already messed up his boxers. He blushed at the memory and felt the familiar feeling of arousal rising, but he gripped the base of his cock, willing the erection down. Although his body didn’t seem to listen to him, he was still hurt from the man’s rejection and didn’t want to give in to the pleasant feelings.

 Instead, he picked up his phone and called MJ and Ned via video chat. He could at least get rid of all the anger by talking about it with his best friends.

  They both picked up after the second ringing.

 “Hey Pete, what’s up?” Ned answered first, laying on his bed just like Peter. His phone was on his desk, showing Ned’s bed and his wall, which was full of the familiar Iron Man posters. Today, it made Peter cringe.

 “Shouldn’t you be at your internship?” MJ was sitting at her favourite coffeeshop, phone probably leaning against an empty cup. She had her headphones plugged in.

 “Well, Pepper Potts send me home.” Peter answered casually.

 There was a second of silence before his best friends started talking at the same time. “She did what?” MJ shouted, while Ned responded dreamily. “You met Pepper Potts, like the real Pepper Potts?”

 “OMG, Ned. I can’t believe it.” MJ sounded angry and in the background of her video, Peter saw a costumer in the coffee shop turning his head towards her. MJ didn’t care about the angry looks. “She is his soulmate’s ex-wife. Don’t worship her.”

 “But she’s hot.” Ned answered defensively which made MJ groan.

 “Ned, she is like a hundred years older than you.” Now all the heads in the coffee shop were turned to MJ.

 “She can still be hot, though.” Ned whined. “Besides. Tony Stark is older than her and you don’t complain about the age difference between Peter and him, either.”

 MJ took a deep breath, clearly calming herself. “First of all, Ned, he is Peter’s soulmate. That’s something else. And second, Peter is at least not fantasizing about him.”

 “About that.” Peter interrupted their bickering. “I might have made out with him today.”

 Ned gasped loudly while MJ slammed her head on the table.

 “You can't just drop something like that casually.” MJ complained. “I need details, like now.”

 Peter needed a second, not sure how to explain the mess of today. “Pepper Potts picked me up in the lobby today and walked me to a conference room. Mr. Stark was waiting for me. He had my tattoo on his forearm.”

 His best friends looked at him confused. “How is that possible.” Ned asked. “You’re not twenty-one yet.”

 Peter swallowed. “Have you ever heard about magicians revealing soulmarks?”

 He looked at his friends expectantly, but both shook their head. The concept wasn’t very common. “Under certain circumstances a magician is legally permitted to reveal a tattoo earlier.”

 “Which circumstances?” She seemed to have a hunch about the situation, looking at Peter as if she wouldn’t like the answer.

 “Death.” Peter answered shortly. “He needs a surgery to remove the metal from his chest. Something about his arc tech not functioning properly anymore. And without a soulmate who strengthen his condition, he might die.”

 His friends were unusual silent after he revealed everything and looked at him concerned. “But he’l make it with your help, won’t he?” Ned asked.

 Peter shrugged. “I think so, but we haven’t talked about it much.”

 “Busy with something else?” MJ scoffed, smiling at him filthy.

 Peter blushed violently and hid his face in his pillow. Why are his friends so embarrassing? “I wasn’t like that.” He explained himself before he really thought about the situation. “Well, okay. I was, but that's not why we didn't talk to each other.” It sounded like a lame excuse.

 “Of course, Pete.” MJ talked to him like a child, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “Tell me, how far did you go?”

 “I might have creamed my pants.” Peter admitted quietly.

 MJ were laughing so hard that tears were streaming from her eyes. Peter heard someone asking her to be a little bit quieter, but she ignored the man, too captured in mocking Peter. Ned, on the other hand, looked slightly nauseous.

 “Pete, please.” He groaned. “Don’t tell me about this.”

 “Stop being such a prude.” MJ bickered. “You’re no better with Pepper Potts.”

 “I didn’t bang her, though.” Ned looked outraged, but Peter knew it was just for show. He was used to that kind of behaviour from his friends.

 “Only because you couldn’t.” MJ was joking. Even though Ned tried to keep up the façade, after a few seconds he stated smiling too.

 “You still didn’t tell us why you didn’t talk with him.” Ned asked curiously.

  Peters mood sank. His friends were good at cheering him up and he clearly needed advice from them on how to handle the situation, but Mr. Stark’s actions had hurt him. His friends could tell something was wrong because they were quiet once.

 “He might have left immediately after I’ve rubbed myself all over him.” Peter confessed quietly.

 “He did what?” MJ fumed.

 “After I…, well you know… Let’s say when I was done, he apologized and left. Some lame excuse about work. He didn’t explain anything, didn’t tell me how to contact him, he didn’t even look at me. He just left me sitting alone in an empty conference room. He hadn't even come yet.”

 In the end, his voice became more and more quiet. He could no longer look at his phone, busy drawing patterns with his fingers on his bed to keep his emotions in check. He fought against the tears which threatened to fall.

 “Pete, I’m sorry.” MJ said softly. “Do you know why he left?”

 Peter sniffed. “I talked to Pepper afterwards. She said Tony felt guilty about me being so young. He wouldn’t have contacted me if his life wasn’t on the line.” He took a short break to get his thoughts in order. “It’s just…, I don’t care that much about the soulstuff myself. I don’t want him to marry me or change his whole life. It was just… so intense. All I want is to get to know him and not being tolerated to save his life.”

 “I understand you. It sucks.” Ned had never been very good in cheering up. Still, Peter smiled a little.

 MJ seemed to be thinking about something, tapping her fingers on the coffee table and choosing her words carefully. “Peter, I’ll only tell you this once, before I continue insulting Tony Stark. It’s obvious his life hadn’t been easy and someone must force the man to be happy. Wait for the surgery to be over, wait until he's no longer afraid for his life. And then fight.”

 Peter looked at her confused. “You think so?”

 She sighed, took a big sip of her coffee and started to explain again. “Let him first think you're angry with him, prove to him you don't worship him like the rest of the world. After that, show him what he’s missing. And when you have him trapped in his feelings, force him to talk. Explain your feelings but let him explain his too. Just don’t give up your one perfect match only because he’s an ass.”

 Peter was silent. MJ was rarely so serious and her words had reached him. Was Tony Stark worth it? Of course, the man was intelligent and handsome, but was it enough? Was he willing to find out if it would be enough?

 “I’m not sure I want to fight.” Peter confessed. He wasn’t sure if he and Mr. Stark were a perfect match, they were living in different worlds.

 Unusually, it was Ned who finished the discussion. “I guess it’s on you to find that out.”

  ~*~

  A few hours later, when Peter tried to fall asleep, he decided that it would be worth it. It might go wrong, but he would always regret not having tried. His uncle's death had taught him one thing: Never miss an opportunity.

Chapter 3

 A week later, Peter was sitting in a private jet on his way to Switzerland. He had never left the country before, and it was the first time he had ever travelled by plane. His uncle Ben had died a few years ago and even before that, they hadn’t had enough money for vacation. He’d always thought his first flight would go to Mexico after he got his PhD and saved some money. He would have bought a cheap economy seat and would have probably been seated next to a family with children crying the whole time.

 What he hadn’t expected was him flying with Tony Stark’s private jet to a hospital in Switzerland before his twenty-first birthday. Pepper had told him that the best surgeons in the world were working in Europe and that they would therefore have to leave the country. She accompanied him during the flight, while Tony had already left a few days earlier. He had to be prepared for the surgery.

 Peter hadn’t seen Mr. Stark since the incident in the conference room, and he really tried not to get upset about it. The billionaire was avoiding him, but it was the wrong time to call him out on it. Peter promised himself to keep his emotion in check until after surgery.

 Pepper, on the other hand, had spent a lot of time with him. She had called him into her office almost everyday after the internship to talk about Tony. She had explained his actions once again, told Peter everything about the upcoming surgery and tried to get to know him better. She had asked him about his intentions with Mr. Stark, and he had told her all about his decision to fight.

 “I’m glad to hear that, Peter.” She had said smiling. “He deserves to be happy, although he’ll do anything to sabotage himself. Not many people in his life have tried to fight for him. Prepare yourself for a draining battle.”

 He had just nodded and promised to be as patient as possible.

  “What are you thinking about?” Pepper Potts, object of his thoughts interrupted him from those.

 He blinked and looked at her. “Just thinking about all the luxury.” He lied. “I’m not used to it; it makes me feel uncomfortable.” It's true he wasn't very fond of the display of money, but he was more concerned about the situation with Mr Stark.

 Yes, Tony had been a dick, but he was still Peter’s soulmate. Additionally, he was also a superhero who had saved a million lives, not only as Iron Man, but also with his clean energy. It was Peter's duty to save him and he was afraid that his presence would not be enough. There was still a small chance that he would die.

 Pepper had no clue what he was really thinking about. “Peter, you need to get used to the luxury. If he ever opens up to you, he'll spoil you terribly. Tony's way of showing his love is money and gifts.”

 Peter just shrugged at the thought. Having grown up without much money, he was uncomfortable with expensive gifts. “But to start everything with a flight to Europe, my first flight by the way, where I know nothing more about Tony than that he is in mortal danger is a bit much, don't you think?”

 Pepper only laughed. “With Tony Stark everything will be much. Sometimes you won’t know whether to punch him or hug him.”

 Peter grinned too and banished the bad thoughts from his mind. Maybe he should just enjoy the luxury and be optimistic.

  They arrived late in the afternoon, and a limousine picked him and Pepper up. They drove to an expensive-looking hotel, five stars of course. The lobby was designed in a marble look, with black curtains next to the windows. The stuff was dressed in shiny suits and even the guests wore fancy clothes. Peter felt uncomfortable in his plaid shirt and his worn out converse. He certainly stood out.

 Pepper smiled encouragingly at him and led him to the reception. A minute later he was holding a black card in his hands, probably the key to his room. She walked ahead and led him to the other end of the lobby towards the elevators.  

 “Guten Tag, darf ich Ihnen ihr Gepäck abnehmen?“ A pageboy approached them halfway and said something in German. Peter didn’t understand a word.

 “I am sorry, Sir. May I take your bags?” The man repeated and Peter gave him his suitcase with a grateful smile. He thanked him and Pepper tipped the pageboy. He’d never been to a hotel where he didn’t have to carry his own luggage. To be fair, he had never been in a hotel before, except for a school trip a few years ago.

 After the elevator door closed behind them, Pepper picked up a conversation. “Peter, the surgery is tomorrow morning. Happy will pick you up at seven am to drive you to the hospital.” Peter confirmed with a nod that he understood. “Do you want to eat dinner together?”

 He thought about it but shook his head after a few seconds. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Potts, but I’d like to go to bed early. Can I order something up to my room?” He was tired from the long flight, and the only thing he wanted to do before he went to bed was call MJ and Ned and tell them everything.

 “Of course.” Pepper replied. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” She smiled at him the last time before she left the elevator on her floor.

 When Peter entered his room, a big and fancy one of course, he couldn’t really appreciate it. Even though the bathroom looked like the cover of an interior design magazine, and the television was twenty times bigger than the one May had at home, the only thing he was interested in at the moment was the bed. He managed a quick call to MJ, Ned and May, but he fell asleep before he could call the room service.

  ~*~

 Peter felt anxious when he entered the hospital the next morning. It didn’t look like any hospitals he’d ever been to before. Everything looked more expensive, but also more comfortable. Instead of the typical white walls, the halls were painted in a warm beige and plants made it look livelier. The smell, however, was the same.

 He didn't even have time to look around properly until a man in a white coat approached him.

  “Good morning, Mr. Parker. I’m Mr. Stark’s personal doctor. If you would be so kind as to follow me.”

 Peter didn't have time to answer anything or he wouldn't have been able to keep up with the doctor. As they left the lobby and turned into a less crowded corridor, the man slowed down.

 He smiled warmly at Peter. “I apologize for the hectic greeting. Mr. Stark asked me to keep his condition under wraps. I didn't want to risk having other patients listen to us.”

 It made sense, of course. Even though Peter wasn’t very interested in business, he knew what a life-threatening illness of Mr. Stark could do to SI’s stock prices. On top of that, the billionaire probably didn’t want to deal with the media.

 “It’s all right.” He assured the doctor. “Can you tell me what I can do today?”

 The man turned right at the end of the corridor and instructed Peter to follow him through a door. They entered an office and the doctor offered him a seat. In the middle of the room there was a big wooden desk and when the doctor took a seat behind it, Peter felt as if he was back in school talking to the principal about his absence in class. He had skipped school a few times after Ben had died.

 “Peter, I need to tell you something about Mr. Stark’s condition. Are you familiar with arc technology?” Peter nodded, he had heard a lot about it during his studies, though he had never had enough money for plutonium to build one himself. “Tony has metal splitter in his chest that are wandering to his heart. The arc reactor works like an electromagnet, holding the metal in place. Unfortunately, the plutonium is poisoning his blood and we have to remove the arc reactor.”

 Peter was shocked. He knew Mr. Stark’s life depended on the tech in his chest, but he hadn’t known anything about plutonium poisoning his blood. He knew from his studies how dangerous the substance can be. Additionally, switching off the electromagnet would kill the man too. “But then the metal will wander to his heart again.” He concluded, fear in his voice.

 “That is correct, which is why we must perform the operation. We want to finally remove the metal. We're going to cut open his chest under an electromagnet and remove the shards. But the operation will be exhausting for his body. And that's where you come in. A side effect of soulbonds is the power one soulmate can give to another. You can imagine that not only Tony's soul, but your soul bound him to life.” The doctor remained calm when he explained the problem to Peter and he was grateful for the professionalism. Peter had to stay focused, he needed to understand what he could do for Mr. Stark and he was on the verge of losing it.

 Even though Peter wasn’t very fond of magic, the doctor’s explanations made sense, well, at least a little bit. He hated not understanding things and magic was definitely part of that. But binding Mr. Stark to live, well, that was something he was truly grateful for. Everyone knew what the billionaire had been through in Afghanistan and what he sacrificed for being Iron Man, Peter just wanted to give something back.

 "If a person's life can be bound to two souls, why can soulmates die when the other is still alive".

 It took the doctor a second to answer. "First of all, if someone is really dead, no soul-bound being in the world can bring him back or stop death. You can only give the body a little bit of strength to endure strain longer. If someone is stabbed or a disease kills him, a soul mate cannot do anything. And if soulmates have never met before, even their presence cannot save the other. There must be a connection between the two".

 Peter felt himself getting cold. Shit, there needs to be a bond? But Tony and he didn’t have a bond! He felt the fear rising in him. “You need to stop the surgery.” Peter pleaded. “We didn’t initiate a bond.”

 The doctor laughed, reached out and put a hand on his shoulder to calm him. “Peter, can you show me your tattoo?” Peter was confused for a second, what did his tattoo had to do with this? But he still nodded and exposed his wrist to the man’s touch. “Do you notice any differences?”

 Peter stared intently at his tattoo. It was familiar to him, a part of him that he had worn since birth. But once he paid attention, he noticed that the lines of the name were thicker than before.

 “It’s thicker, isn’t it?” The doctor asked. “A bond is formed when soulmates touch each other. It can be a sexual touch, or a friendly one. t's the intention of the couple that counts. If they truly want each other, a bond is formed. It doesn’t matter if the feeling is sexual or loving.”

 Peter blushed. He remembered how much he had wanted Mr. Stark, his fingers on his body, his lips everywhere. His thoughts stopped for a second. If the bond was formed successfully, Mr. Stark must have wanted him too.

 “Can a soulbond c-create…” He stammered shamefully. “Can a soulbond cause a-arousal?”

 The doctor knowingly laughed and winked at him. “It can increase the pleasure, but it cannot create feeling that weren’t there before.”

 Peter swallowed, relieved that Mr. Stark seemed to find him arousing, but also ashamed by his own behaviour. The had blamed the bond for his shamelessness, but apparently it was on him.

 He tried to change the topic. “What happens after a bond is formed?”

 The doctor looked at him forcefully. “Peter don’t be afraid. I know how Mr. Star is. If one of you decides to stay away from the other, it won’t be painful. There are other people out there, other good matches. It's just never gonna be as perfect as the soul bond.”

 Peter took a deep breath. He wanted to fight for Mr. Stark, wanted to fight for the privilege of keeping him happy. But if the billionaire truly didn’t want him, he could stay away.

 The doctor took one look on his watch and stood up. “I’m sorry, Peter. I have to cut the conversation short. It’s time. If you would be so kind as to follow me?”

 Peter's nervousness came back with a vengeance. Now it was time to fight for Tony Stark's life.

  ~*~

  The second time Tony woke up in a hospital, he was not alone again. This time only Pepper was sitting next to his bed and it wasn’t bright but dark outside. The felt a dull arch in his chest and tried to touch it gently. A heavy bandage was wrapped around his torso, making it difficult to breath. He assumed he was on heavy painkillers because he didn’t feel as if he had been cut open just before.

 Tony didn’t remember much about the day. The doctors had knocked him out in the morning and after that everything was black except for a faint memory of a beautiful boy. Had he dreamed about Peter?

 “Tony, you’re awake.” Pepper shone at him. “I’m so happy everything’s fine. You’re going to be okay, no need to give me Stark Industries.”

 He sighed in relieve. He’ll be okay, he’ll live, and the first time in years he didn’t have to worry about the metal in his body. The only unsolved problem was Peter.

 “Have I been awake before?” He asked curiously and Pepper nodded. “I remember Peter sitting next to me and holding my hand. Was it a dream?”

 Pepper looked pitifully at him and took his hand. “Oh Tony, yes, he was here when you first woke up. Guess you don't remember much since you were still recovering from the anaesthetic."

 He swallowed heavily. Hopefully, he didn’t say anything he’ll regret now. “Did I… did I say anything to him?”

 “No, Tony, you didn’t. You didn’t talk at all. Yet Peter is out there, waiting for you to wake up. Give him a chance and let him talk to you. Let him see you’re fine.” She pulled the chair closer to his bed and looked at him vividly. “You’ll like the boy. He is not only handsome but intelligent. You have so much in common. Don’t let yourself be unhappy again.”

 Tony couldn’t look at her. How could he give the boy a chance? There are a million better man out there, better matches for Peter. He didn’t want to tie the boy to an old man like him. “Pepper, he isn’t ever allowed to drink.”

 “Then wait for him.” Her voice got frustrated. “He’ll be twenty-one in three months.”

 He closed his eyes, guilt and desire battling inside him. He wanted to get to know the boy, but he didn’t want to load all his problems on someone else’s shoulders.

 “He is so young Pepper.” His last doubts were coming to the surface.

 “Peter is young but clever, Tony.” Pepper replied fiercely. “He is a gentle soul who wouldn’t even take your money. He wanted to pay for his own hotel, a small one near the hospital.” She laughed bitterly. “Tony, he wanted nothing in return for saving your life. Yes, you’ve made mistakes in the past, but it’s time to let go. Just try to be happy for once, okay? Peter is perfect for you.”

 Tony pondered, knowing he would be gone on the boy if he decided to let him in. Peter was so innocent but beautiful. He wanted to challenge the young man, see if he could keep up with him in the lab. He wanted to hold him, protect him from life. And he wanted to bend him over his work desk and fuck him until he screamed Tony’s name.

 You know what, fuck it. Fuck anyone who’d think Peter is too young, fuck the media and the moralists. He wanted to be happy, he didn’t want to be alone anymore. He promised himself to protect the boy and to spoil him rotten. He would keep him in his arms and buy him everything he would ever want. He will listen to the soulshit for once, maybe Peter really was the right one for him.

 “Okay, let him in.” His voice was hoarse but determined.

 Pepper smiled brightly and pressed a kiss on his forehead. “I’m so happy, Tony. You won’t regret it.”

 Then she left the room to call the boy and leave them alone.

   Peter looked insecure, almost scared, when he entered the room. He was even more beautiful than Tony remembered. Although he looked tired as if he hadn’t gotten enough sleep the night before, Tony had never seen someone more beautiful, more tempting.

 Peter stopped in the middle on the room, unsure if he could sit down of if the billionaire would throw him out soon. Tony winced at the sight, he had really fucked up.

 “Peter, you can sit down if you want.” Tony soothed the boy and pointed to the chair next to his bed. Peter smiled carefully and took the seat. He was closer to Tony than the billionaire would have liked, it was just so difficult to concentrate while he was near the boy. He smelled the faint vanilla note of Peter’s scent and the only thing preventing him from getting aroused again was the slight pain in his chest.

 “Mr Stark, how are you?” The boy asked cheerfully. Tony could see that the boy was happy about him being awake and well.

 “I’m fine. My chest still hurts a little, but I’m sure it’ll heal.”

 The boy smiled at him so brightly that Tony felt as if he was looking at the sun. Being happy, Peter looked like a vision. Tony didn’t have much brightness in his life, and he was determined to hold on tight.

 “Peter.” Tony looked intensely at the boy and took his hand, making sure he was listening. “I am truly sorry for our first encounter. I didn’t mean to throw myself at you. You are so young, it’s better if we keep our distance for a while.”

 The moment he saw Peter’s hurt face, he knew he’d chosen the wrong words. The boy pulled back his hand, attempting to get up and leave the room. “It’s alright, Mr. Stark.” The boy tried to get a grip on himself, but Tony could see the first tears falling. “I get it, I’m just happy you’re fine.”

 Peter’s sadness broke Tony’s heart and he grabbed his arm before he could walk away. “Wait, Pete.” He pleaded. “I’ve said it all wrong. I didn’t mean to take advantage of you or get in your pants, but I want to get to know you better. Let’s just try to keep our pants on.”

 Peter starred at him with a mixture of relief and frustration on his face. “You mean as friends?”

 Tony laughed bitterly. “God Peter, no. Even if I tried, I couldn’t stop myself. You're so alluring, every second I see you, I want to fuck you senseless.” The boy blushed under his blatant words. “I just want to get to know you better first, is that all right? I want to wait for your birthday.”

 The hesitation on Peter’s face vanished and his beautiful smile returned. Tony felt his tension subside when the boy stopped crying. He became too attached to the boy far too soon. He would already do anything for the boy, how would he act after he’d got to know the boy better? Tony pushed aside his fear, it would only lead to him running away, but this time he wanted to do it right.

 “Tony, can I kiss you?” The billionaire shrugged after the unexpected question. He knew he shouldn’t do it, he knew how hard it would be to resist the temptation once he touched Peter’s lips, but he was a weak man. So he nodded, allowing the boy to get close.

 The attraction was the same when their lips touched the second time. Tony felt the boy shaking, arching into the kiss. The angle was awkward, Peter bent over him, carefully so as not to touch his chest. Tony was uncomfortable, his neck stretched to reach the boy’s lips.

 He growled in frustration, wanting to feel the boys weight pressing against him during the kiss. He wanted to touch the boy everywhere, but his stupid bandage was in the way. Peter climbed over him, settled on his lap and kept his hands away from Tony’s chest. He supported his weight with his arms and pressed another kiss on his lips.

 Tony opened his mouth, allowing the boy’s tongue to enter him for a second before taking control and pushing it back. One hand got tangled up in the boy’s soft curls, the other slipped under his t-shirt. He caressed the soft skin of Peter’s back, drawing patterns on his skin. He boy shivered under his touch and started to squirm. His ass was pressed against Tony’s clothed cock and he got hard under Peter’s movement.

 The boy was a vision, losing control from a simple kiss alone. His cheeks were rosy, the blush spreading across his neck. Tony wanted to undress him to know how far down the blush went. He wanted to pinch his nipples, kissing them, biting them, while the boy was riding his cock.

 “Fuck, sweet boy. So good for me.” Peter was so responsive to his touch, he moaned when Tony stroked the waistband of his jeans, slipping a finger under it. He couldn’t reach his ass properly, but Peter arched his back as if Tony had already pressed a finger in his tight little hole.

 Tony felt that he was losing control. He knew he was going too far. Not only were they in a hospital, and Pepper was waiting outside his room, he had also promised to keep his hands to himself until the boy turned twenty-one. But he was too far gone to stop now.

 Tony brought his hands to the front of the boy’s jeans while his tongue was thrusting in the boy’s mouth. He imagined what it would feel like to have Peter spread out under him, licking into his tight little heat and luring every sound out of the boy’s pretty pink mouth. He imagined how Peter would moan and cry, how he would beg him to feed him his cock.

 When he pressed his palm against Peter’s clothed cock, the boy bucked into his touch. Even though Tony would normally appreciate the responsiveness, the boy’s groin pressed against his chest for a short time and a sharp pain ran through his whole body.

 Tony groaned, but not out of arousal this time. It took Peter a second to realize Tony’s pain, but then he backed off immediately. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark.” He apologized while he climbed back into his chair.

 Tony smiled painfully. “It’s all right, sweet boy. I guess it’s better this way or we would have gone too far. I didn’t mean to touch you before your birthday, I just couldn’t stop myself.” He realised once again that he had no control over his urges when he touched the boy. He closed his eyes, willing his erection away which was leaking in the sweatpants he was wearing.

 It was difficult to regain control, and according to his heavy breathing, Peter felt the same way. The boy’s lips were swollen, and his hair dishevelled, he looked just so fuckable right now that he wanted the boy back on his lap. He concentrated on the dull pain in his chest to get a grip on himself.

 “Seems the only thing we can do is jump on each other.” Tony joked and Peter blushed with embarrassment. “You know what boy, when we get back home, I’m gonna take you out. Won’t be possible to strip you when we’re eating in a restaurant, right?”

 Tony knew his decision was right when the boy’s face lit up after the suggestion of a date. “I would like that Mr. Stark.” He answered and smiled so brightly at the billionaire that all those unwanted feelings came back. Tony groaned and fought his arousal once again. Will this go on forever now? He would die of frustration while he was close to the boy.

 “Tell me about yourself.” Tony tried to distract himself from his leaking cock.

 Peter looked at him thoughtfully. “What do you want to know?”

 Anything, Tony thought. Anything to distract me from the urge to fuck you senseless in a hospital room. “Tell me about your studies. You’re getting your PhD right?”

 Peter’s face lit up with the question. “Yes, I’m currently working on a project of prosthetic arms. My supervising professor knows some soldiers who lost their arms in the war. A couple of them have simple metal ones, but I’m working on better arms that can be controlled by their minds.”

 Tony was enchanted. The boy talked with a passion that made the billionaire thrilled. He gesticulated wildly while his eyes were sparkling with excitement. Tony wanted to know more about the project.

 “How far have you progressed?” He asked interested, forgetting the pain and his burning arousal for the first time.

 Peter shifted on his chair, tugging his legs under him to sit comfortably. Then he took out his old phone, opened an app and gave it to Tony. The billionaire scrolled through the app, seeing everything Peter had already done. He saw blueprints of arm prothesis, equations calculating the right amount of the component parts and a thousand measurement values. He saw Peter’s progress on the screen, his own mind racing with ideas to improve the project.

 At the end of Peter’s notations was a black question mark. “What’s this about?” Tony ask, pointing at the end of the document.

 Peter shrugged. “Well, I’d like to start the testing phase with a few people, but there’s still one problem left I couldn’t fix.”

 Tony was interested. “Which problem?”

 Peter took his old phone back, and Tony planned to buy him a new one, a better one. Probably he’ll give him a Stark phone. The boy showed him a video.

 Tony could see a man in a lab, probably at NYU, wearing an arm prothesis while sleeping in a bed. The setting of the room indicated that it was a test experiment Peter had conducted. In the upper left corner, the vitals of the man were on display. As time continued, Tony could see that the pulse was changing. The man was probably in REM sleep. Suddenly, his arm prothesis started to twitch, moving in a ridiculous way while the man was still sleeping. After a few seconds, someone entered the lab, waking the man up and the movements of the prothesis stopped.

 “What happened?” Tony asked curiously. He already had a presumption, but he wanted Peter to confirm it.

 “The prothesis is controlled by the subject’s thoughts and intentions, thus driven by electric impulses of the brain. During dreaming, electrical impulses are emitted that set the human body in motion. When dreams trigger strong emotions such as fear or excitement, the prosthesis reacts with unpredictable movements.”

 “Like when you lash out in a dream and then it happens in reality?” Tony asked him. “But doesn't that also happen with the normal body?”

 Peter smiled at the question, visibly enjoying talking about his project. “Kind of.” He answered. “But the reactions are stronger. When someone feels distressed in their sleep, they usually just toss and turn in bed. The simple feeling of a normal nightmare is enough for the prosthesis to react like soldiers with PTSD. You can imagine what a person who feels anxious would do at night.”

 Tony swallowed. He knew first hand how it was like to live with PTSD, how draining nightmares could be. He also knew what could happen when mind-controlled tech reacts to the dreams. He had similar problems with his Iron Man Suits once.

 “Peter, do you mind if we look at your prosthesis in my lab when we get back home?” Peter looked at him buzzled. Tony wanted a chance to get to know the boy better anyway and combining it with his favourite pastime sounded great. “I once had a similar problem with my Iron Man suits, maybe we can work on a solution together.”

 Peter beamed at him and tried to jump at him for joy. Tony liked the impulsive character of his soul mate, he always preferred partners who show their feelings. In bed and out of bed. He wanted to make the boy happy all the time, showering him with gifts and seeing the smile every day.

 Sadly, Peter held back before he could touch the billionaire. After losing control through the kiss earlier, it would be wise to keep their distance until his chest had healed. To top it off, the boy was still not twenty-one.

 “Peter, lets limit the time spent together to lab work until your birthday, all right?” Tony suggested. “We can talk, we can work, and on your birthday, I’ll take you out. I’ve promised you I’d take you on a date afterwards.”

 The boy didn’t look happy, but nodded anyway. “Fine.” He replied. “But don’t push me away afterwards.”

 “I won’t.” Tony promised. He won’t be able to keep his hands of the boy much longer anyway. “Let’s call it a day.” The billionaire suggested. “I’m tired from the surgery and your flight will leave tomorrow morning. I need to stay a few days longer to make sure everything is healing. I’ll be back at work next Monday. Can I pick you up Monday at five in the intern lab?”

 “Of course, Mr. Stark.” Peter replied happily. “Guess I’ll see you Monday.”

 He hugged Tony carefully before he left the room. Even one hour later, Tony imagined he could still feel the boy’s weight in his arms and the faint smell of vanilla in the air. Monday couldn’t come fast enough.

  Chapter 4

 After his first two weeks, Peter had almost settled into a routine at Stark Industries. In the morning he always went to the kitchen on the second floor first, brewing himself a cup of coffee. He needed his daily dose of caffeine to start the day, and although he preferred the perfectly brewed cappuccino from the bakery across the street, making his own was much cheaper. He brought his own mug and took it with him to his working space.

 Then that he went to the intern lab, a large room with a dozen workbenches. He shared the room with eleven other interns, all university or PhD students like himself. They got paid for their work, which is why they were included in SI projects. Everyone had to sign a confidentiality agreement to keep the company’s secrets safe.

 Peter and one other intern named Flash worked on a new Stark phone, assisting a couple of engineers to improve the older model. They were still having problems with the camera, it wasn’t as good as Tony Stark expected it to be and SI was known to bringing out only the best products.

 Peter hadn’t seen Pepper all week. She was relieved the matter with Tony and him was settled and that the billionaire was getting better after the surgery, but she had spent a lot of time worrying about him and now she had to get work done. Peter thought it was a pity. He was amazingly fond of her, even though she was Tony’s ex-wife. He felt her friendly love for his soulmate, and he was happy Tony had such an amazing woman in his life.

 All in all, his internship was the dream he’d hoped for, except for one thing: his lab-partner Flash. Flash was older than him, twenty-five by now, and he hadn’t finished his studies yet. Although that wasn’t a big deal, Flash was envious of him already doing his PhD, and every day he showed Peter how little he thought about him.

 It had started with a few comments. Parker, what is a kid like you doing in a grown-up world. Parker, how many dicks did you suck to get this internship? Parker, how many did you pay to get your PhD? But it just kept getting worse and worse.

 One day, Flash had destroyed a laptop, claiming it was Peter’s fault. He told their supervisor Peter had thrown it on the floor only to frame him. Peter denied it, but Flash had been working for SI for two years now and they all trusted him.

 Peter tried to ignore Flash, he didn’t answer, didn’t report anything, because his supervisor wouldn’t believe him anyway. But it only got worse. Flash had stolen his phone while he was going to the toilet, it was a mistake not to take it with him. He had read a pop-up message from MJ, telling him her hot new neighbour is exactly his type. As soon as Flash knew he was gay, he started calling him Penis-Parker, slapping his butt as he walked by and accusing Peter to try to gay him up too.

 It was a nightmare, but Peter didn’t say anything, too afraid that no one would belief him. On Monday, when Tony came back to work, things escalated.

  He had been late for work because a subway train had had an accident, blocking the station where he was waiting. Without a coffee, he entered the lab after his supervisor had glared angrily at him. Flash snickered, clearly enjoying his distress.

 The lab was empty except for Flash and him, all the other inters were either on vacation or attending a congress where a new SI product was to be launched today. But Flash and he had to stay in the lab because the new Stark phone would be launched soon, and the camera still wasn’t perfect.

 “Why are you late, Parker?” Flash sneered. “Busy dropping your pants for all the gay men on the streets?”

 Peter took a deep breath and tried to ignore him. Flash wasn’t worth the trouble, he wasn’t even worth the anger Peter was feeling, but the words hurt anyway. Yes, he was gay, so what? They were living in the twenty first century, nobody should care about sexual orientation anymore.

 His silence seemed to make Flash even angrier. “Penis Parker, I’m talking to you. Are not only a faggot but deaf, too?”

 Peter could feel anger bubbling up inside him, threatening to surface, but he fought it off. He was better than that, he wouldn’t start an argument about any of this. It would only come back to him, his supervisor wouldn’t belief him anyway.

 “You’re so pathetic, Parker.” Flash snarled and grabbed his forearm tight. Peter flinched; Flash had never touched him before. He could handle mean comments and insults about his sexuality, but he couldn’t stand violence. But Flash was bigger than him, stronger than him, and although he tried, Peter couldn’t get his arm free.

 “Please, let me go.” He begged, struggling against the grip on his forearm, but Flash only cackled.

 “Look at you, Penis Parker. One touch and you almost cry. I thought you like being touched by men, don’t you? Never had a real man touching you before?”

 Peters anger turned to fear. He’d been convinced Flash wouldn’t do anything serious to him, that he’d only let out his anger through words, but right now he wasn’t sure anymore. He struggled harder against the grip, afraid what the other man would do to him.

 When he heard the fabric tear, he was unaware of the seriousness of the situation for a few seconds. Flash stopped insulting him and that should have been the first warning sign. Still, it took him a little longer to understand why Flash was quiet.

 His wrist was turned upwards, the tattoo clearly visible. Normally, Peter wore a watch to cover it, but he had forgotten it in the morning, thinking the tight sleeves of his shirt would stop anyone from noticing. They had, though, but his shirt had ripped while he had been struggling against Flash’s grip. And now what he wanted to avoid at all costs had happened. Someone else had seen his mark.

 “Omg, you are really pathetic, Parker.” Flash said stunned. His scornful voice had turned to hideous. “How can you be so dumb to tattoo Tony Starks name on your arm.”

 Peter was finally able to pull his wrist back and hid the tattoo against his chest. His eyes prickled and he fought the tears with everything he had. He wouldn’t cry in front of Flash; he couldn’t stand the satisfaction that would be visible on the other’s face afterwards.

 “You are disgusting Peter Parker, do you really thing you can turn the Tony Stark gay with your little tricks?” Flash came even closer, grabbing his hips so tightly that he couldn’t escape. “Someone like him would never even look at you, faggot. I’m gonna show you what happens to arrogant kids like you, Parker. Guess you only got accepted for the internship because you had sucked a million dicks, hoping that one day Tony Stark would fuck your mouth. I tell you something Peter, that will never happen.”

  “Enough.” An icy voice interrupted them, and Flash jumped back startled. In the doorway of the lab stood Tony Stark, and Peter sighed with relief.

 “What do you think you’re doing there?” The billionaire asked Flash, rage all over his face. Peter could see that he was clenching his hands into fists, so his ankles turned white.

 “Mr. Stark, good thing you’re here.” Flash smiled at the man in awe. “I just had to teach the faggot here a lesson, he had your name tattooed on his wrist. He thought he could turn you gay by pretending to be your soulmate.” Flash’s loud laughter echoed across the room.

 Tony’s control snapped. He burst into the room, grabbed Flash by the throat and slammed him into the nearest wall. Peter could see that Tony was wearing a part of his Iron Man suit so there was no way for Flash break free. Tony’s face was full of hatred when he looked at the intern, Peter had never seen him like that before.

 “I’m gonna say this once, and only once.” The billionaire threatened. “No one has the right to attack anyone, even if they’re lying, even if they have tattooed my name over all of their body. Do you understand that?”

 Flash looked at him in fear, paralyzed and unable to answer because Tony clasped his throat tightly.

 The billionaire loosened his grip, he didn’t mean to kill him, only threatening him a bit.

 “Did I make myself clear?” He repeated, slowly this time.

 Flash couldn’t nod fast enough, and Tony let him go. He slumped to the ground, touching his neck, and looking like a little kid scolded by a father.

 “Although it’s none of your business, I want to show you something.” Tony grinned evil and rolled up his sleeve to reveal his soulmark, Peter’s name. Flash looked at it paralyzed.

 “If you ever bully my soulmate again, if you so much as look at him wrong or, god bless, touch him, I will kill you. And don’t you doubt I wouldn’t even go to jail for that. I have enough money so everyone will belief you attacked me first. Peter is mine.” Tony growled.

 Peter swallowed. Although the threat was directed at Flash, he could feel the billionaire’s anger anyway. He was so dominant, protecting Peter in a way no one had ever done before, and a warm feeling spread in his chest. That was everything he had ever wanted, someone to loved him, to take care of him and protect him if necessary.  

 Flash didn’t talk anymore, he sat on the floor, looking miserable and frightened, but Tony showed no pity. “Leave now.” He ordered. “Leave, and don’t think you could ever come back here again. Your resignation will be sent to you by mail.”

 Flash didn’t look up when he left the room and avoided Peter’s gaze. He looked like a kicked puppy, but Peter didn’t feel pity either. He could deal with comments, with harassment, he was used to it by now, but he couldn’t accept any form of violence. When Flash was gone, Tony turned to him.

 “Are you all right, Peter?” He asked, reached out and pulled him into an embrace. Peter hid his face in Tony’s thousand-dollar shirt, felling safe for the first time that day. Tony smelled good, save, like home and he let himself be held. When his tension dropped, he started to cry. Tony soothed him, kept him in his arms and stroked his back. He was waiting patiently until everything was out.

 After some time had passed, Peter’s sobbing slowed down, until he was breathing heavily, protected by Tony’s arms. “Shh, Pete. You’re safe, my sweet little boy. Come with me to my lab. I don’t want you to work with the other interns anymore.”

  Peter nodded and let himself be led into Tony’s workspace. He didn’t remember how they got there, he didn’t even notice that they weren’t seen by anyone else. The only thing he felt was Tony's grip around his hips and his voice telling him that everything would be okay.

 When they entered the lab, Tony sat down onto his couch, pulling Peter in his lap. Neither could let go of the other. Instead, Peter clung to Tony like an octopus, his face back into Tony's collar.

 After a minute of silence, Tony picked up a discussion. “Peter, I want you to work with me in my lab. Not only because you’re my soulmate, but also because you’re the most intelligent person I know. I don’t want you wasting your time on a phone, I want you to work on your project.”

 Peter looked up, smiling for the first time. “Really?”

 Tony smiled back. “Really. You are brilliant, Peter, and on top of that I want to keep you close to me.”

 Peter grinned, pressing his lips to Tony’s once more. The familiar heat, mixed with arousal, bubbled in his chest and he smiled in the kiss. Everything with Tony felt so perfect.

 After a couple of minutes, the billionaire pulled back. His lips were swollen, and he looked at Peter with hunger in his eyes. Peter wanted to go further. He wanted to thank Tony by blowing him, getting down on his knees in front of the billionaire and putting his cock into his mouth. He wanted to be bent over the couch, he wanted his daddy to fuck him until he screamed.

 Peter froze for a second. Had he called Tony Daddy in his mind? Fuck, what was wrong with him? He was glad, he didn’t say it out loud. What would his soulmate think of him? He didn’t see Tony as a father, he didn’t want to be parented by him, but he wanted to be protected like a boy. It was hard for him to admit to himself that the thought of the billionaire as his provider, his protector, turned him on even more.

 “Everything all right, boy?” Tony asked, sensing his discomfort.

 Peter smiled and answered cocky. “Everything is fine. I just thought about blowing you right now.”

 Tony groaned and gently pushed him off his lap. “Peter, please. Don’t try my patience. How can you tempt me when you were crying just a few minutes ago?"

 Peter laughed loudly, licked his lips and enjoyed the effect he had on his soulmate. “I don’t know. I constantly think about you fucking me.”

 Tony’s moans were flattering. He was so happy to be allowed to work in the billionaire’s lab and he was making plans. He wanted to work on his project, but he also wanted to work on the billionaire. Let’s see if Mr. Stark could wait for his birthday or if he would go crazy with arousal. Peter smiled to himself. For the time being he would let it go, sit on the couch next to Tony and stay away from his lap, but he would make the billionaire's next few weeks difficult.

 They both needed time to calm down, getting a grip of their arousal. Peter kept cuddling Tony and pressed himself against his side, but the smell of his soulmate made it difficult to think about anything else than getting fucked. Nevertheless, he held himself back.

 “Why were you in the lab?” Peter asked after a long time of silence and turned his head to look at the billionaire’s face. “You even had a piece of your Iron Man Suit with you.”

 Tony smiled at him and pressed a kiss on his forehead. “I felt your distress.” He confessed. “It didn't feel like the feeling was coming from me. It was in the back of my head and I knew it belonged to you.”

 Peter looked at him stunned. “Do you think it’s because of the bond?”

 The billionaire chuckled and pressed him closer to his side. “Maybe. If we have time, we could look into it more closely. Do some research.”

 Peter beamed at the thought of recherche, of knowledge, and it was the moment he realised that maybe the thing between them wasn't just a chemical reaction or a mission for him to make Tony happy. Maybe they really were a perfect match.

  ~*~

  When Tony was allowed to leave the hospital, he felt nothing but relieved. He had been going crazy in there, never any good with patience and he felt restless when he was separated from his lab for too long. Pepper and Peter had left days ago. Pepper had a company to run and Peter continued his internship. Tony had kept him away enough lately, but he missed his boy. He didn’t know if it was because of the bond, but he suspected it might be caused by the kid’s awesomeness, too. Everything he had already seen of the boy was perfect. Shit, if he wasn’t careful, he would become a sap.

 Lab work with Peter turned out to be great. Tony had known he was clever, after all he had seen the blueprints of Peter’s project but watching the boy work was something else. Tony could see Peter had never worked with good equipment before. He’d always feel bad, when an idea didn’t work out and material was wasted, even tough failure was a part of engineering. But after some time had passed, Peter got used to the unlimited amount of resources and it was inspiring to work with the boy.

 The only thing worrying Tony was the pull towards Peter that he felt. Working with him, seeing his intelligence every day, was slowly killing Tony. He was almost constantly turned on, watching the boy’s fingers when he worked. He imagined how it would feel when the boy wrapped them around his cock and Tony couldn’t suppress a shiver. He watched Peter’s ass, saw the muscles flex when he walked and the only thing stopping him from bending the boy over was his stubbornness. On top of that, Peter was almost constantly chewing on something, a pen or a screwdriver, and it was tempting as hell to see the pink lips stretching around something.

 Tony didn’t know if Peter was doing it on purpose, but he couldn’t imagine that such an innocent boy could even try to seduce him. He blamed himself instead, believing that his sick mind was making things up. Only four weeks after they started working together, Tony snapped.

  When he entered the lab this morning, Peter was already there, bending over a workbench to screw a metal piece to the fifth prototype of his prothesis. Immediately, the billionaire’s gaze was glued to the firm little ass, watching it flex in the boy’s jeans. He didn’t announce his arrival to get more time to admire the view. As Peter shifted his weight from one leg to another, Tony could see his cheeks wiggle and he closed his eyes, imagining how they would bounce when he slapped them, when he would split the boy open with his cock.

 Tony would love to strap Peter down to the desk, keeping him there for hours. He would enter him over and over, filling him with his load until it leaked out of him. He would claim his boy so thoroughly that everyone could see who Peter belonged to. Tony knew his thoughts were wrong, that Peter couldn’t possibly want the things he did, but his mind keep wandering even though he tried to fight it.

 “Mister Stark, you’re here. Why didn’t you say something?” Peter ripped him out of his thoughts, looking at him with his innocent Bambi-eyes.

 Tony cleared his throat before answering. “I’m just watching you work. It’s interesting how far you’ve come with your project.” His voice was rough, and even in his own ears it sounded like an excuse, but Peter just smiled.

 “Great, Mr Stark. Would you mind lending me a hand?” Oh, Tony would love to. He would help undress the boy, stuff him full of his fingers and wrap the other hand around Peters cock. But that’s not what the boy was talking about, Tony remembered. He was talking about the prosthetic.

 “Sure.” He replied, struggling to keep his voice neutral.

 “Perfect.” Peter beamed. “Can you walk around the desk and keep the prothesis still? I want to open it and see why it couldn’t react as fast as I want it to.”

 Tony only nodded, disappointed that he couldn't watch his ass any longer, but he could at least see Peter’s face properly now. He held the prosthesis in place and gave the boy enough room to work.

 What he didn’t expect was the boy’s facial expression while he was concentrated. Peter’s mouth fell open and his tongue darted out. He licked his lips, focused on his project. Tony couldn’t tear his gaze from the boy’s lips. They were wet, glistening with salvia and Tony wanted them stretched around his cock. He could see that they were swollen, Peter had probably bitten them, too focused on his project.

 Tony’s thoughts weren’t nice. He didn’t just want to push in, he wanted to choke Peter on it, seeing the boy cry from his cock when he split open his throat. Tony knew his cock wasn’t small, many of his past lover struggled with it, but he’d never wanted to wreck someone so thoroughly as he wanted to wreck Peter.

 When Peter’s mouth opened a bit wider, Tony was done. He let go of the prothesis and jumped back a step as if he had been burned. Peter looked at him confused.

 “Mister Stark, is something wrong?” He asked innocently.

 Tony shock his head, struggling to find the right words. “No, no. Everything is fine Peter. I’m just craving coffee. I want to go to the coffee shop across the street. Shall I get you a coffee too?”

 “Yes, please.” Peter smiled. “I love their cappuccino, it’s amazing.”

 You’re amazing, Tony thought, already halfway out the door. He had to put space between them. It was only a little over a month away from Peter's birthday, and he’ll manage it. The attraction between them was almost unbearable, he had never felt anything like this before, but he couldn’t sleep with Peter until he was twenty-one. His fantasies were so filthy, so wrong that he couldn’t act them out with a kid.

  Twenty minutes later, Tony came back with two coffees in his hand. He felt calmer. For a second, he had thought about relieving himself in the bathroom, but he had quickly dismissed the idea. He was no longer a teenager, so he wouldn’t act like one.

 Peter dumped his work when Tony offered him the cappuccino. “Omg, thank you, Mister Stark. The taste is amazing.“ He moaned during his first sip and Tony closed his eyes, feeling aroused. Again. What the fuck was wrong with him.

 A little bit of foam was still on Peter’s bottom lip and the boy licked it up seductively. Tony’s eyes were on the boy’s lips once again. It had taken the billionaire twenty minutes to calm down, only to be back on the edge of his control after a few seconds. Great, just great.

 Things only got worse. Peter arched his back as he was bend over the workbench once again, his legs were spread to stand securely. He was occasionally sipping his coffee, moaning each time and declaring his love to the coffee shop across the street. When Peter whimpered after his last sip of coffee, Tony snapped.

 He pressed his groin against the boy’s ass, moaning in his ear. His left arm hold Peter securely on the table, making it impossible for Peter to move. “Stop that, sweet boy.” Tony pleaded desperately, knowing he would regret his next words. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me when you offer yourself like that. You’re acting like a slut for me.”

 He had never expected the reaction of Peter to his words. The boy cried out, arching his back even further and rubbing his ass against Tony’s groin. “Please, daddy. Please let me be your slut. I’ve worked so hard to break your patience.”

 The minute the boy called him Daddy, Tony was lost. He growled like an animal, all doubts vanished from his thoughts as if they’d never been there. He gripped Peter’s wrist, holding them firmly behind the boy’s back. His cock was pulsing in his jeans, uncomfortably so, and he thrusted against Peter’s backside. It wasn’t enough.

 “You wanted it, sweet boy? Acting like a slut for me, presenting your lips and your ass, trying to seduce me?” His voice was deep, he didn’t even recognize himself anymore.

 “Yes, please, daddy.” Peter cried. Tony had never seen anyone so beautiful. The boy belonged here, beneath him, crying for his daddy to ravish him. “I’ve tried so hard, Daddy. I bend over every time you looked at me, I bit my lips raw for you. Just please, do something. I need it.”

 Tony growled. His boy was everything he had ever wanted, his soulmate, perfect for him in bed and out of it. He couldn’t hold back anymore. Tony used his free hand to undo his belt and pulled out his cock. He moaned in relief when he was out of his prison.

 “I want you to pull your jeans and boxer down. Don’t take them off completely. Just enough so I can see your milky ass. Can you do that for me, Pete?” Tony could have done it himself, but he wanted the boy to decide whether he was ready or not. “You won’t come today, my sweet boy. I can’t reward you for your slutty behaviour. I won’t fuck you and I won’t even let you blow me until your birthday. I will stroke myself until I’ll come on you pretty cheeks, rub it into your skin to show you that you are mine.” He growled, squeezing Peter’s ass once. “If you want to leave now or want to wait for your birthday, that’s fine, but if you want to stay, it's on my terms.”

 Peter didn’t even have to think. “Please, come all over me, Daddy.” He begged, already tugging down his pants. He revealed the most gorgeous little ass Tony had ever seen. It was milky white, plum and round, inviting him to slap the skin to watch it wiggle. Tony couldn’t resist, he spread the cheeks to get a good look at the tight little pucker between. He wouldn’t touch today, but a look wouldn’t hurt.

 He groaned when he saw the pink muscle. Peter was gorgeous down there, smooth, hairless skin and so responsive. The boy cried out as the billionaire revealed his entrance to the air, and the urge to touch was stronger than ever. But Tony hold back, just one more month.

 Instead, he gripped his cock and started stroking it. He knew he wouldn’t last long; he was already too riled up from the boy’s seduction. His gaze was focused on Peter while he pleasured himself. He enjoyed all the little noises Peter made and watched the ass wiggle when the boy twitched.

 His orgasm came fast, sweeping over him like a train. He trembled, fighting to keep the control of his body. It was white hot pleasure, as intense as he had never experienced before.

 Tony saw his seed splashing on Peter’s backside, covering him and marking him up. He felt pride when the boy surrendered himself to his grip and he felt satisfaction that was deeper than just sexual. He rubbed his release into the boy’s skin, before helping the boy up from the desk. Tony massaged the boy's stiff wrists to stimulate blood circulation and tucked Peter’s pants up, without cleaning his mess. He wanted the boy to feel him a little longer.

 After that, he hugged the boy close, sitting down on the sleeping couch in his lab. He draped Peter on his lap, his arms wrapped around his boy to keep him close. The boy was still hard, but he relaxed into the embrace with a content smile on his face.

 Tony soothed him, unwilling to let the boy go. They sat in contented silence for a few minutes until Tony raised his voice.

 “Pete, I think we need to talk about a few things. Don’t worry, nothing bad.” The boy nodded, still uncertainty in his eyes.

 “Peter, I really like you.” Tony confessed and Peter beamed at his as if it was Christmas.

 “I like you, too Mr. Stark.”

 A warm feeling spread through Tony’s chest. Although he already suspected the boy was developing feelings for him, it was different hearing it from him.

 “Peter, I’m not a good man. In a relationship and in bed.” Tony sighed. “I take too much control and I find it hard to be considerate. I mean, everyone knows, my divorce with Pepper was all over the media.” He swallowed, afraid to lose the boy with his demands in bed or with his carelessness.”

 “Tony.” Peter spoke up for the first time. His voice was steady and calm, all shyness gone. “You are a good man. You look out for others, risk your life for strangers and care about all your friends. What makes you think that's not enough? I really like you. In time, I'll probably love you too.”

 The words were like fire in Tony’s veins, but for once not due to arousal. Even though he tried to be tough, to be fine on his own, it was beautiful to hear that such a perfect young man could think so well of him. He glowed with affection for the boy and it was the first time he believed, given time, he could love Peter too. How could he not? The boy was perfection.

 Still, a little disbelief remains. Tony lowered his head and could no longer look Peter in the eye. “The thing with Pepper, I really tried. I cut back the hours in the lab, tried to be on point for all the social events, I even started to care more about the company. Still, it wasn’t enough. It will never be enough.”

 Peter put a finger under his chin and gently lifted his head. “And what did she say about why she left?”

 Tony shrugged. “That it didn’t work out between us?”

 “Exactly.” Peter smiled warmly at him. “That it didn’t work out between you, not because of you. She wasn’t the right one and that’s fine. You don’t have to cut back the hours in the lab if that’s what you love. Of course, relationships are about compromises, but not about losing yourself. If you have to change for things to work, you’ll be miserable. Tony, Pepper loves you as a friend, I’ve seen that much these past few weeks. You two didn’t work out. But maybe we will. Give us a chance.” Peter started to feel desperate.

 Tony was still not completely convinced. “Pete, how is it right that lust for you as much as I do? You’re more than twenty-years younger than me. I can’t be good for you. The things I wanna do to you, that cannot be normal.”

 Peter smiled at him and brushed through his hair. “Tony, if you think it's wrong for you to feel this way, then my feeling would be wrong too. I love it when you take control and I want to submit to you. Even that means I can't come.” Peter grimaced looking at his neglected dick. “I want this, you want this. That’s all that should matter.”

 Tony looked into the boy's eyes, searching for anything to tell him it was a lie, but Peter’s face was full of honesty. “You really want this?” He asked, sounding more like a child than a grown-up dominant man.

 “I want this.” Peter confirmed. “But only if you try to open up to me. I want you to tell me about your doubts, to give me the chance to help with your guilt. You’re not the only one that has to accept his desires. I almost died of embarrassment when I called you Daddy earlier.”

 Tony swallowed and pressed the boy closer to his chest. “I love it when you call me that, Peter. Don’t be ashamed.” He whispered in his boy’s ear.

 “Then try not to feel guilty about your urges too, Tony.” Peter replied, settling against his chest. “I want you, all of you, maybe the soulshit isn’t as bad as I thought. Maybe we really are a perfect match.”

 Tony buried his face in Peter’s neck. Maybe, Peter was right. There was no other explanation why Peter was so perfect for him otherwise. He wanted to keep the boy and not to fuck it up like he had a million times before.

 “I’ll try, Peter.” He promised, leaning back so he could look the boy in the eye again. “I’ll try, but it won’t always work. There will be times when it will be hard for you to like me.”

 “I just want you to try.” Peter reassured him. “Even when it will be hard.”

 And then Peter kissed him, not a heated kiss, but a sweet one. And Tony let go, gave himself to Peter, knowing if there was anyone he could trust, it was his boy.

Chapter 5

Five weeks later

  Tony Stark was leaning against the passenger door of his new black Tesla. He had parked on the side of a ragged street in Queens, his car obviously not fitting in. The apartment building he was waiting in front of was grey and dirty, but it looked slightly better than the other houses he was surrounded by. Although it was already getting dark, the street was still busy. Children were running around, adults were carrying groceries home and a group of young people were chatting in a corner.

 Everyone was looking at him, of course they were. He stood out with his flashy car and the fancy suit, carrying a bouquet of 21 roses in his arms. More than half the people probably recognized him, wondering why the fuck Tony Stark, billionaire and genius, was standing in a ragged street in Queens on a Friday evening. He didn’t care, used to that kind of attention.

 Tony was waiting for Peter outside his house. He wanted to pick up the boy and take him to a restaurant because today was Peter’s birthday. Finally. Tony couldn’t wait any longer. He wanted to show the boy off to the world, everyone had to know that Peter was his, and his alone. In the past, he’d tried to keep his flings to himself as long as possible. He hated the media and their interest in his lovelife, but with Peter, his soulmate, it was different. He intended to tell everyone that the beautiful boy belonged to him, he would shout it from the rooftop if necessary, and taking Peter out in public would be the first step.

 On top of that, Tony’s control was almost broken. He couldn’t resist anymore; he didn’t want to wait any longer. All his guilt had slowly disappeared over the lasts weeks and it was getting harder and harder every day to keep his hands off his boy. And he didn’t want to hold back anymore, he planned to devour the boy, to show him everything he could do to his body. Resisting had only been more difficult after he’d known that the boy wanted him as much.

 Before his thoughts went too far, Tony concentrated on the plans he had made for the evening and the flowers in his hands. They were beautiful red roses and he had paid a small fortune for them, but he didn’t care. Peter deserved everything and Tony was wealthy enough to provide for his boy.

 When Peter stepped out of the door, Tony smiled at him. The boy looked amazing, even more than usual. He was dressed in a plain shirt and dress pants with a soft grey coat on top. Tony was speechless. The clothes fitted perfectly, and he smiled smugly after seeing the boy in the grey coat that Tony had bought him a week ago. Peter looked like his and that made the primitive part of his brain pleased.

 “Happy birthday, my boy.” Tony greeted him with a hug, burying his head in the boy’s curls and inhaling Peter’s sweet smell. The bouquet of flowers was forgotten in his hand. He had never been so happy in his life, being surrounded by his soulmate and seeing Peter’s beautiful smile almost every day.

 “Hey, Mister Stark.” Peter said mischievously, knowing exactly what he was doing to Tony with these words. The billionaire groaned. He had asked the boy weeks ago to call him Tony, and mostly he did, but Peter had discovered the effect of calling him Mr. Stark after a long day in the lab. To summarize, it had been another unsatisfactory evening.

 Tony enjoyed the hug, savouring Peters smell and the warmth of his body, but the boy tensed up after a few seconds. “You’re all right?” The billionaire asked concerned, overwhelmed by the urge to protect his soulmate.

 Peter blushed, eyes lowered on the ground and the primitive part of Tony’s brain cooed because of his innocence. “They’re all watching.”

 Across the street a group of people were staring at them with open mouths. Tony chuckled. “You have to get used to this. You’ll soon officially be my soulmate, people will be staring all the time.”

 Peter paled, looking at him with huge innocent eyes and Tony purred. His boy was the sweetest. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I will protect you.” He couldn’t smoother his smug smile, protecting Peter satisfied something dark inside him. God, he felt like an animal. “I bought you some roses, do you want to put them in a vase before we go?”

 Peter smiled at him and nodded. While he was quickly running upstairs, Tony opened the door of his car, waiting for his boy to return. The billionaire had planned the whole day and he was a bit nervous, everything had to be perfect.

 “Thanks for the flowers, Tony.” Peter said as he got into the car, and Tony didn't know whether he was happy or not to be called by his first name again. Since he was still planning to take his boy to a restaurant, it was probably for the best.

  The drive didn’t take long, Tony made sure Peter didn’t have to spend his birthday in a car, and they arrived in front of an Italian Restaurant in the middle of New York. It wasn’t the fanciest one because Tony knew Peter wouldn’t be comfortable, but he insisted to spoil his boy on his special day, so it would be way above Peter’s budget. Tony parked the car, opened the door for Peter und lead him into the restaurant.

 All heads turned as they entered. Some people looked at them with disgust, probably because of the age-gab, others were jealous, and Tony enjoyed the attention of the other guests. He wanted everyone to know that Peter was his.

 “Mister Stark, I would like to show you your table.” A waiter approached them before they had a chance to ask for themselves. Tony smiled, helping Peter out of his coat and gave a servant both of their jackets. He couldn’t stop himself from placing his hand on Peter’s lower back, and he felt the boy shivering under the touch.

 They were led to a table next to the window with a beautiful view of the central park. Tony could see that Peter was smiling and seeing his boy happy helped him to settle. He would make sure Peter got everything he could ever wish for.

 “Do you like it?” He asked the boy, unable to completely supress the nervousness from his voice.

 “It’s amazing.” Peter beamed at him. “I love Italian. How did you know?”

 “Intuition.” Tony lied. The truth is, he had asked Pepper, bugged her for a whole week until she caved and promised to subtly ask Peter what his favourite food was. Tony still owed her a bottle of wine for the troubles, especially since Peter had apparently not noticed the interrogation.

 “I’m so happy, it’s my birthday at last.” Peter whined. “I swear, I nearly died of blue balls.”

 It was the first time Tony blushed. Fuck, how could his boy say something like this in a restaurant? Peter had been so shy and innocent when they met and now, he was starting to express his own desires. Even though he was still pliant and sweet when Tony showed a little dominance.

 “Don’t say things like this.” Tony groaned. “Or I'm not gonna hold back and fuck you right here on this table.”

 Peter just grinned smugly. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

 Before Tony had a chance to devour his boy or be embarrassed further, the waiter interrupted their flirt. “Would you like something to drink yet?” He asked and offered them the menus. Tony ordered a white wine and Peter a coke.

 When the waiter left their table, Peter looked at him overwhelmed. “The menu is in Italian.” He complained. “I don’t understand anything.”

 Tony took his hand and stroked it with his thumb. “Don’t worry, sweet boy. Do you want me to translate or should I order for you?” He pleaded silently that the boy would let him order, trust him to pick something he liked.

 “You can order.” The boy answered, blushing again and Tony suppressed a growl. The boy was literally his dream.

 Tony chose Spaghetti with chanterelle for himself and Pizza with shrimp for his boy. Of course, he had asked Pepper to find out what Peter liked, to make a good impression in case Peter allowed him to order. And according to Peter’s face when the food arrived, Tony picked well and he was rewarded with a bright smile.

 The conversation during the meal was comfortable between them, had spent enough time together in the laboratory to get to know the other. They had already skipped the awkwardness that usually goes along with dating.

 Tony took the opportunity to watch his boy thoroughly, his gestures when he talked about his project and his sparkling eyes when he told him all about the last family day with May. While Peter was chatting about his last conversation with Pepper, Tony felt a sudden urge to hold the boy close. Pepper was very important to him, and when he heard his soul mate talk so nicely about his ex-wife, happiness gushed in his chest. Instead of being jealous, Peter not only accepted Pepper into Tony's life, but also tried to make friends with her.

 Feelings Tony had never felt before, grew inside him. “I love you, Peter.” Tony blurted out, interrupting Peter mid-sentence.

 Peter gaped at him like a fish, completely silent. Doubts arose in Tony, accompanied by a sudden urge to leave the situation, but he fought to sit still. He wouldn’t run away, not now, not when the boy in front of him was so perfect. Tony’s hands started to sweat, and he lowered his gaze, unable to look Peter the eye anymore. His whole life was either running away from uncomfortable feelings or trying to change for his partner. But with Peter everything was different, with Peter he allowed himself to be vulnerable, even if he gave power to someone else who would be capable to destroy him.

 “Omg, Tony.” Peter cried out, his voice trembling and Tony raised his head, afraid he’d said something wrong. On Peter’s face was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen on the other man, reminding Tony of an angle. Not that he had ever seen an angle before, but that’s how he imagined them to look. Peter took his hand across the table, squeezing it lightly and beamed at him. “I love you, too.”

 Tony felt a smile spreading across his face. He was happier than he'd ever been in his life. This beautiful stunning boy loved him too and belonged to him. He grabbed the boy’s neck, pulling him closer across the desk to press a sweet kiss on his lips. Peter melted under his touch, leaning his forehead against Tony’s and panting even minutes after they separated.

 Tony cleared his throat, still overwhelmed by his own feelings. He had been so caught up in the kiss, in Peter, that he hadn’t noticed that other guests were taking pictures of them. It would be all over the media the next day anyway, but Tony didn’t care. Peter was an adult, and it was his own decision who he wanted to date.

 “I have a present for you.” Tony declared. “Do you want to open it now or later at home?”

 “I don’t want to wait.” Peter’s eyes sparkled and he grinned smugly. “But I don’t want to open it here either. Let’s leave.” The boy licked his lips seductively and Tony let out a groan. One gesture from Peter and he started to lose his control again. Maybe it was time he took what he craved.

 “Check, please.” He waved at the waiter, his eyes not once leaving Peter’s lips.

  ~*~

  In retrospect, Tony couldn’t remember how they left the restaurant. The only thing he recalled was his tongue in Peter’s mouth and how the little ass wiggled when he grabbed him firmly. He hoped that no reporters were lingering in front of the restaurant or he would be able to see a detailed picture of him ravaging Peter in every gossip rag tomorrow.

 It was one of the hardest things Tony had ever done when he released his boy from his grip to get in the car. He would much rather hold him close, keeping him in his arms forever, but unless they wanted to be arrested for public indecency, they had to drive home now. Tony was almost at the point of no return and if he didn’t get a grip on himself right now, it would be too late.

 During the drive, Peter couldn’t sit still. Out of the corner of his eye, Tony watched him shifting on his seat, spreading his legs as wide as possible and when his boy pressed his palm against the bulge in his trousers, Tony growled. “Stop that, boy. Or you won’t come today at all.”

 Peter winced; eyes fluttering shut and lips slightly open, inviting the billionaire to slip his cock right in. Tony’s finger clasped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white and he forced his eyes back on the road. Fortunately, Peter listed to him and removed his hand from his crotch.

  It felt like hours until Tony opened the door to his apartment, although it probably took about ten minutes. He had been waiting for his boy for months and now, so close to his goal, he was about to lose himself.

 As soon as the door slammed shut, Tony pressed Peter against it, hands tucking at his hair to bare the boy’s throat. Peter moaned from the sharp pain, surrendering to him and Tony felt his cock harden from the trusting gesture. He pressed his lips on the boy’s jaw, sucking and marking him up, watching the skin bruise under his assault. Peter melted in the touch and tilted his head even further, giving Tony access to his delicate throat. Having Peter at his mercy, the primal part of his brain preened, knowing the boy was his, and his alone.

 Tony had had many lovers before. Some a little more dominant, some submissive, but never before had anyone given himself so completely in his hands, trusting him with his pleasure and he noticed what he had been missing all these years. Nobody was as close to being perfect as Peter.

 A sudden urge to kiss the boy, to hold him close, overcame him and he pressed his lips tenderly on Peter’s. “I love you.” Tony whispered in his mouth, enjoying the boy’s taste on his tongue. His feelings were so overwhelming that it took him a second to deal with them. “Mine.” He said softly, nibbling at Peter’s lower lip, demanding entrance to his mouth.

 Peter moaned again, opening his lips slightly so that Tony could slip his tongue in. He explored every inch of the boy’s mouth, trying to memorize the taste of him, unwilling to ever let go of Peter’s lips. But the boy had other plans. He pressed his body against Tony’s, rubbing his clothed cock against his leg and whimpered like he would die if Tony stopped. Tony had always loved it when his partners showed him their pleasure and Peter was a needy little thing, moaning and panting exactly how Tony liked it.

 “Mr. Stark, please.” Peter begged, sparking off a fire in Tony’s body with his words. “I need you, I need your cock. Please, let me suck it. Please.” Peter’s voice was trembling, his eyes huge and filled with tears. Never before had anyone begged so sweetly for his cock and Tony couldn’t refuse him.

 He lifted the boy into his arms, carrying him to the sofa in his living room. He sat down, dropping his boy gently between his legs. Peter shifted until he kneeled comfortably, his pink lips close to the billionaire’s clothed cock. He tried to press his face against Tony’s thigh, but Tony stopped him with a firm grip in his hair. Peter cried out in frustration.

 “Behave yourself, boy.” Tony growled, his fingers pressing against the boy’s neck. “I want you to earn Daddy’s cock. I want you crawling in front of me, while you beg me to fuck your mouth. How does that sound, baby boy?”

 Tony felt the boy shivering under his touch, lost in his arousal and he watched Peter, pleased with himself. His boy was a vision, sitting between his legs and waiting for his cock, his lips slightly parted and his tongue darting out. Peter relaxed in front of him, pliant and waiting for the next order. Tony could sit like this for hours, watching Peter on his knees in front of him, begging for his cock.

 Tony’s control snapped after a few seconds and he unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock. Peter’s gaze was fixed on him, watching as Tony stroked himself to full hardness. The boy’s eyes sparkled at the sight and Tony felt his ego burst at the covetous look on Peter’s face. He knew his cock was bigger than average, but when he saw that the boy liked his treat, it clearly inflated his ego.

 “I want you to tab twice against my knees if it’s too much, you understand me, sweet boy?” Tony said forcefully, making sure the boy had understood him as he nodded.  

  “May I, please Mr. Stark?” Peter begged and Tony smirked at the desperation in the boy’s voice. He gestured him to come closer and took his own cock in his right hand, smearing his precome all over Peter’s face.

 “Look at you, so desperate for me. You can’t wait for my cock filling your mouth, can you, boy?”

 Peter whimpered and opened his mouth wider, trying to coax the billionaire to fed him his cock. But Tony took his time, touching his cheeks and his lips with the tip of his cock without giving Peter what he wanted. Peter’s lips looked gorgeous coated with his precome.

 Only when Peter was almost crying with desire did Tony show mercy and pressed the tip of his cock into Peter’s mouth. Tony was ready to burst. The warm wet heat made him go crazy and he closed his eyes, fighting against the urge to thrust deeply. Peter tentatively licked across his slit, tasting the salty precome and Tony felt himself twitching in Peter’s mouth, his tip bumped against Peter’s throat.

 He had always loved getting head from his partner, he loved the rush of control when he buried his hands in his partner’s hair, owning his mouth and controlling his breathing. But Peter was something else. He was so beautiful on his knees in front of Tony like he belonged there, like he was made for sucking Tony’s cock. It had never felt as intense as it did today and his whole body was tingling with the rush of power.

 Greedily, Peter tried to get more of the man into his mouth, but Tony stopped him effectively by grabbing his hair. “We have time, Peter.” He scolded the boy. “Take it slowly.” Patience would make everything so much better.

 Peter whined, but Tony stood firm, pulling his cock out of Peter’s mouth. “Behave boy, or you’ll get nothing.”

 Peter stopped struggling immediately and became pliant once again. He craved to get the billionaire back inside and Tony could see Peter’s hard cock was straining inside his jeans, but the boy kept quiet, waiting for anything the man was willing to give him.

 Tony only lasted a minute until he pressed back in, giving the boy more of his cock this time. Peter moaned; the vibrations around him felt like heaven and Tony groaned loudly. Gone was the slow rhythm. He started to thrust into the boy’s mouth, feeding him more and more every time he dived back in. Peter was taking him like a champ, sucking him, pleasing him, doing everything he demanded of the boy.

 Peter had started to rub his cock against Tony’s leg and the billionaire could see the look in the boy’s eyes, could see how far gone he was. He was deeply trapped in his submission for him and Tony promised himself to take care of the boy, to show him pleasure he had never experienced before. If he commanded Peter to come in his pants now, Peter would probably, spilling over Tony’s legs like a dog in heat.

 “You are made for this, made to be my little cock slut. I just need to feed you my cock and you are ready to burst, rubbing all over me like a bitch in heat.”

 Peter groaned and Tony used the opportunity to press deeper. The boy’s throat convulsed around his heavy flesh and he started to gag, but Tony showed no mercy. He fucked Peters throat however he wanted, only drawing back when the boy needed to breath. He loved the tight heat surrounding his tip, loved that Peter didn’t complain but took him like he was made for it. Nothing had ever felt better than Peter’s throat convulsing around his tip and he lost himself in the moment with his boy.  

  When Tony sensed he was getting close, he pulled back, resting his tip on the boy’s tongue. He didn’t want to come too soon, he wanted to bend the boy over later, burying himself in that plump little ass. Peter whined at the loss, begging with his innocent eyes for his cock once more, but he didn’t move. Tony was proud of him.

 “I want to take you to the bedroom and fuck you.” Tony growled, gripping the base of his cock to stop himself from spilling. “Is that okay with you?” He watched his boy closely, making sure he didn't do anything Peter didn't want to do.

 “Please, Mr. Stark.” Peter was already begging, shifting on his knees, unable to get any friction on his neglected cock.

 Tony closed his eyes and pulled himself together so as not to lose his patience. “I want you to go to the bedroom now. Undress yourself and get comfortable on the bed. I’ll be right there.”

 “Yes, Daddy.” Peter replied, sending a jolt of arousal through Tony’s body. The billionaire composed himself, needing a second to get the feelings under control. He was almost relieved when the boy left him alone, afraid he would come too soon if he didn’t get a second to calm down. He no longer young, and it would end too quickly if he followed right away.

  Still, he couldn't stand it for five minutes until he went into the bedroom, getting lube and a condom from the bathroom first. The view that greeted him was breath-taking. Peter had taken off all his clothes and folded them neatly beside the bed. He was lying on his stomach, shoulders pressed into the bed while his ass was lifted into the air. The boy had spread his legs like he was presenting for Tony, his milky white cheeks on display.

 “Baby, you’re beautiful.” Tony gasped in wonder, carefully stroking his fingers across the white globes. He couldn’t resist spreading Peter’s cheeks with his hands, revealing the tight pink hole in between. Peter whimpered.

 He had been dreaming about that ass ever since he had spilled over Peter’s back. He’d imagined what it would feel like to thrust into the tight little pucker, glistening with lube and puffy from Tony fingering it open. He had fought the urge for month, always holding back and now that he was allowed to touch, it felt like his dream would come true. He gently tabbed his middle finger against the pucker, testing how the skin would feel.

 Peter cried under the touch, squirming on the bed and trying to press his ass closer to Tony.

 “Shh, sweet boy.” Tony cooed, gently caressing Peter’s back. “We have time. Don’t try to suck my finger down your greedy little hole without lube, okay?” Peter answered with a whine, sounding like a kicked puppy and Tony couldn’t stop himself from thinking how cute his boy was.

 “Daddy, please. I can’t wait any longer. Give me a finger, now.”

 Tony slapped his ass a response, watching the flesh wiggle afterwards. He loved his boy’s eagerness, but he couldn’t let such demanding behaviour slide. “Patience, boy.” He growled. “Patience or you will get nothing.”

 Tony loved how Peter reacted to the threat, how pliant and good he became, how he fought against himself to be his best for Tony but holding back was as straining for the billionaire as it was for his boy. So, he flipped the cap of the lube open and poured a huge amount directly onto Peter’s lower back, letting it dribble down in Peter’s crack. Peter flinched from the cold and a sadistic part of Tony enjoyed it immensely.

 “I’m gonna spread you open.” Tony promised. “Make you ready and gaping for my cock. I’ll fuck you with my fingers until you’re begging for more.”

 “Please, please. I’ll do anything.” The begging went straight to Tony’s cock, his baby was marvellous when he was losing his mind.

 Tony coated his fingers in the clear fluid, one hand wrapped around his own cock without moving it, the other one moving lower to Peter’s entrance. His right index finger tipped against Peter’s hole teasingly, and Tony watched with smug satisfaction how it twitched. The boy’s breath quickened and strained muscles showed how difficult it was for Peter not to move.

 “Shh, you’re doing fine, my boy. So beautiful, so perfect. Relax, open up for me, Pete. Let me in.” Tony started to mumble, helping his boy to relax under his words, while his finger still played with the tight pink pucker. He had never seen anything more beautiful than Peter in at the moment, lying there so trustingly and obediently, moaning occasionally under Tony’s hands. He didn’t want to wait any longer.

 Much less carefully than he had originally planned, Tony thrusted his finger in, forcing the wet heat to open up. Both moaned simultaneously. Peter was warm and soft inside, wet from the huge amount of lube, and Tony couldn’t wait to split him open on his cock. But he could seriously hurt Peter if he went too fast, so he was content to add another finger.

 Peter’s discipline broke when Tony spread both fingers to prepare him for the billionaire’s cock. “Daddy, p-please more. I can take more. Please, I want it to burn a l-little.” He moved his hips back, impaling himself on Tony’s fingers. He was a responsive little thing, already moaning like he was fucked thoroughly.

 And who was Tony do deny his beautiful boy such a lovely request? He lubed up a third finger, pressing it in the tight little hole next to the other two. It was too fast, the stretch must burn like hell, but Peter took it like a champ, rocking his hips back and forth, already moaning for another one.

 Tony starred at him in wonder, his own cock painfully hard in his grip, barely holding back. “Almost there, baby. Just a few more seconds.”

 Tony withdraw his finger, making Peter whine about the loss, opened a condom and pulled it over his leaking cock. He reached for the lube bottle again, purring more on his length and dropped it open onto the sheets. He didn’t care about the mess he was making, too focused on the vision in front of him.

 “Can you turn around for me, boy?” Tony requested, helping Peter to get into the desired position. His boy way laying on his back and Tony could see the cute blush on his face, his eyes sparkling with lust.

 He gripped Peter’s legs, forcing them wide open to make room for himself. He lined his cock, the tip pressed against the stretched hole, but not quiet bracing it. Peter was lost in his pleasure, squirming on the bed, his neglected cock pulsing and leaking onto his stomach.

 “Please, Mr. Stark. I can’t wait anymore.” Tony wasn’t sure if he could ever get enough from his boy’s begging, loving how lost and open Peter was in bed. He didn’t play his arousal, he was truly losing himself in Tony’s arms. Savouring the closeness to his soulmate, Tony pressed in.

  It was like coming home and Tony let out a loud moan. The boy’s hole slowly opened up for him, letting his cock in inch by inch. Peter was tight, tighter than anyone Tony had ever fucked before and he gripped him so good he was almost afraid of shooting early. He couldn’t compare it to anything he had ever felt, his whole body was tingling, buzzing from the pleasure and his mind shut down. He no longer thought about work, about his lab or his problems, the only thing on his mind was Peter, nothing matters but giving Peter the same pleasure he was feeling.

 When Tony had bottomed out, he paused for a second, giving Peter time to adjust to his girth. He loved holding Peter down, choking him on his cock, but he didn’t want to hurt him seriously. His boy, on the other hand, didn’t care about the pain that much. He bucked backwards, impaling himself further on Tony’s cock, moaning like a slut for him.

 “Fuck, sweet boy. You need it bad, don’t you?” Tony teased, catching the boy’s hips to stop him from moving. “Such a slut for Daddy’s cock.”

 Peter cried out, arms wrapping around Tony’s neck and his hole twitching around the thick girth. Tony could see the frustration in Peter’s eyes, tears running down his cheeks. Out of pity, perhaps because he couldn't wait any longer either, the billionaire started to move, his hips pistoling his length in Peter’s body.

 “Look at you, boy.” Tony gasped. “You’re usually so shy, but once you get dicked down properly, you’re whimpering like a slut. Is that all you need to relax? A fat hard cock in your ass, filling you up?”

 “Yes, Daddy.” Peter cried, shame long forgotten. “B-but only yours, Daddy. Need only your cock.”

 Tony snarled possessively, his cock twitching at the possibility of owning this lovely boy.

  They did not have time to take things slowly, they had done slow in the last months. Tony forced himself into Peter’s body again and again, watching the pink pucker where they were joint, and he knew he couldn’t last much longer. He shifted slightly, aiming for Peter’s prostate and a loud cry confirmed he had found it.

 “So good for me, baby boy.” Tony was panting. “You look so beautiful spread around my cock. You were made for me, made to be my little slut, weren’t you?”

 “Yes, Daddy. Yes, please. Made for you, only for you.” Peter was really a sweet little thing.

 Peter’s untouched cock was angry red, bouncing between them and Tony loved the desperate picture. He didn’t touch it, gripping his boy’s hips tighter instead, thrusting into Peter’s hole like his life depended on it.

 The boy was about to lose himself, his moans getting louder and louder, his hips twitching on the sheets with such force that Tony was unable to hold them still. Tony’s pleasure kept rising and he knew he would come soon, so he fumbled between their bodies to touch Peters cock.

 “Daddy, T-Tony, I’m coming.” Peter screamed. “Please, I’m so close.”

 “Then come for me.” Tony said, adoration in his voice. “Come for me, now.”

 As soon as he touched the tip of Peter’s cock, his boy was coming. He convulsed, his hole squeezing around Tony while his back lifted off the bed. The boy’s eyes rolled back in his head and Tony watched in awe as Peter was consumed by his orgasm. He was so beautiful, Tony felt warmth spreading in his chest.

 He was close, too, keeping up the thrusts to search for his own orgasm. He continued fucking Peter, watching his boy riding the height of his pleasure, never slowing down. Peter’s face was twisted from overstimulation, but Tony showed no mercy.

 He felt himself getting close, the familiar tingle starting in his spine and he picked up his pace. White hot pleasure rushed through his body, amplified by Peter’s still twitching hole. Tony came, his hips stuttering while he buried himself as deep in the boy as possible. It was overwhelming, waves and waves of pleasure were crashing down on him, and his cock was spilling inside of the condom. He came longer than he ever did before, needing minutes to catch his breath.

  When Tony felt like moving again, he pulled out carefully, earning a wince from his boy. He stripped off the condom, fastened it with a knot and dropped it on the floor. Then, he picked up some handkerchiefs from the bedside table, cleaning Peter sporadically, before pulling him into his arms.

 “I love you.” Tony mumbled, pressing a kiss on Peter’s forehead and listening to their fast beating hearts.

 “I love you too.” His boy shifted, until Tony was laying on his back, Peter’s head resting on his chest.

 “Tony, it was… wow.” Peter said, making the billionaire smile, and wondering how he had ever earned such luck.

 “Yes, it was.” Tony replied, stroking Peter’s bare back as he lost himself in the moment.

 Being close to Peter was all he could ever want. He wanted to fuck his boy, spend time with his boy and cuddle him to death. He wanted him as a partner more than he had ever wanted Pepper. Peter was perfect for him, and with the boy b his side, Tony knew he could face everything.

 On the bedside drawer was Peters present, still wrapped up. Tony had booked a trip through Europe, planning to show Peter more than just the hospital in Switzerland, but he couldn't bring himself to get up so quickly to give Peter his present.

 His eyes drifted shut, satisfied with the good sex and Tony knew he had never been happier in his life. It didn't matter what he would read about them in the media the next day, he could bear anything if only his soul mate was by his side.

[felassan]

Gamers For Groceries 2 event

A Twitch stream event from a few days ago. It can currently be re-watched here (it was fun & interesting, so I do recommend to check it out direct). This post contains some notes on things of particular interest & relevant timestamps, in case this is useful to anyone (for example bc of accessibility reasons).

First up is the All About Animating panel, a series of mini-interviews with game devs (animators) asking what they do, how they got there, and advice for anyone interested in getting into the industry. Some or all of the devs that were interviewed are currently working on DA4. They talked a bit about their day-to-day work and a lot about the craft of game dev animation in general. This segment runs from timestamp ~38 mins 40 secs to 1:07:50. Some notes:

[sounded like DA4] Right now the creature team are working on different creatures in a way which involves going through a lot of mocap data

At BioWare they have a pretty big technical animation team, to support their animators, so each tech animator has a different specialty. Tech anim involves animation support, character art support, and rigging the characters so that the animators can pose them

[not sure if re: DA4 work specifically, another project or a general comment on the craft] One of the featured animators’ area of specialty at the moment is faces and hair (building the control structure for face animations). First they had to decide how the face rig and its control structure would work. This involves a lot of performance capture of live actors for things like cinematics and gameplay animation, therefore the rigs for bodies and faces have to be able to accurately capture the full range of expressions and emotions that the actor is portraying. Right now the stage that this dev is working on most is setting up the heads that they’re getting through the pipeline from character art e.g. making adjustments based on feedback from the cinematics team. “Polish - just trying to get realism”

Hair tech has come quite a long way in the last few years [in the industry]

[not sure if re: DA4 work specifically, another project or a general comment on the craft] Hair is very complex to get right. “In the past most games have used card-based hair, which is basically like sheets of polygons with a texture on it that looks like hair, through layers of transparency. But real hair is strand-based, digital strands, so we’re starting to look into that kind of tech - try to get more realistic, more beautiful hair, but there’s always a performance cost to hair. Layers of transparent things are always an expense, they need to balance like, it looks good and moves well, but it doesn’t make your computer or console chug. [...] I guess we’re in the prototype stage but we’ve almost got a set pipeline. It’s always fun to experiment”

In Mass Effect 2 or 3, Miranda’s hair was as expensive as a whole character (!)

[on balancing hair costs/performance, general] It depends on things like character importance and how many characters are on-screen at the time. When you’re in gameplay fighting a bunch of monsters you’re not going to be giving full beautiful hair to all the characters and the monsters, as it will cost too much. (Having a helmet on is a convenient way to get rid of hair.) But if it’s a cinematic scene, with 2 characters talking to each other in a dramatic context, there’s a better budget for nice hair allocated

Some of the hair in Anthem was quite expensive in cinematics. They kept getting bugs from QA saying (for example) that a character’s hair was tripling the performance cost in the scene, so it would go back to character art so they could take away some of the hair cards. “Tough balance, quality versus cost”

“I wish all the characters could have beautiful strand hair”

For p-cap, a lot of the time they don’t want to be too prescriptive in terms of the direction that they’re giving the actors, as the actors know what they’re doing and have a lot of experience, so they give them vague instructions that they then riff off of

[sounded like DA4] They recently did a mocap shoot

[sounded like DA4] There’s a bit more productivity happening now in the pandemic situation; now that the animators are not all going to the capture lab in Vancouver in person for shoots, if it’s not their turn to direct a shot they can instead be working on something else on their computers (multi-tasking). ((Lead DA4 Producer Scylla Costa recently gave a talk at a games festival on the challenges of DA production during the pandemic. In part of this talk he talked about various benefits and drawbacks to the remote-working situation. He also talked about and showed some behind-the-scenes stuff for p-cap and mocap. Notes, images and link here))

[sounded like DA4] Special mocap suits were sent out that they can use with a laptop to go anywhere and shoot motion capture. It’s not as high fidelity as what comes out of the capture lab, but it’s really good for prototyping stuff. Before the pandemic they did some of this (going to a park and shooting some running around)

[sounded like DA4] In one of the shoots they had some actors who were really well-trained in dancing. They were trying to get them to do some combat stuff. This was a bit challenging in the pandemic situation as there’s only so much they can demonstrate/portray as an example to the actors from a distance on camera. “It’s hard to describe what a ‘dodge to attack’ is through the camera to somebody who has no idea what combat looks like in video games”

[not sure if re: DA4 work specifically, another project or a general comment on the craft] The pandemic has really affected performance capture for the face side of things badly, as in order to record, the actor gets dots painted on their face in specific locations by a makeup artist. They can’t do that right now because of social distancing/restrictions, so they haven’t been recording faces at the moment

The more detailed a face, the more joints it has, the more the cost to performance is

---

There was also the Writers’ Block panel, featuring DA writers Mary Kirby, Sheryl Chee and Patrick Weekes, and DA editor Karin Weekes. The timestamps for this segment are ~2:37:50 - 3:26:20. Some notes:

PW has never been weirder than when they were writing Cole on DAI

PW thinks that they accidentally wrote part of “Timber” by Kesha into Solas at one point and they were like “Well, okay, I have to stop listening to Kesha”

For Sheryl, after a while Blackwall’s VA always nailed doing his lines. She loved the quality of his voice and so after a while would always hear his voice while she was writing. This really worked out

^ Mary had this with Merrill. As soon as they cast Eve Myles she listened to several hours of her in Torchwood, and then just wrote to the way that she spoke as much as possible

^ PW had this with GDL as Solas and FPJ as Bull. As soon as they heard FPJ’s delivery, they were like “Oh, okay, I have to write some lines differently, because Bull is smarter than I realized”. With GDL they were like “Okay, he’s going to put poetry into anything I say, in the best way possible”. In early drafts of Solas lines there were parts where they [PW] wondered “Is this too melodramatic? Is this too tragically-angstful?” and then they would hear GDL and be like “Oh! [It’s fine] Game on!”

For localization, German words are often quite long so they often have to make sure that everything fits on the GUI

They think scenes like the romance scenes sound prettier in the Italian versions

Behind the curtain in creating the in-world languages: PW: “There are some awesome websites that have every elven word, like ‘Here are the translations and verb tenses and conjugations’ [etc], [...] and usually Mary and I get very sad slightly looking at those pages going like ‘Does that mean that we have to stick to that?’ [...] The rule is, if I’ve looked at the Wiki and the words, and I go ‘Here’s the correct grammatical way to do it’, and if that turns out to be too long or too many disconnected syllables and it just looks bad or sounds bad, then we shorten it to something simpler, because the key is we want to give the flavor of a foreign language, but we don’t have the world-building budget and capacity to make something that is going to be dictionary-real [in a way that] someone could go through and translate all the background things written on the old temple walls”. Part of the reason for this is the consideration for VAs, who already have to act while bearing lots of things in mind, like the cues in the script for each line

Mary: “For building a language, the first things that I started with for qunlat, elven and dwarven, was what words do we need to use the most? Greetings, farewells, words for friend and enemy, basic things that will come up easily in conversation. After that it’s ‘How difficult is this for other writers to use?’ Can they just pick it off the Wiki? Do they need just one word? Do they need to write whole sentences, and how does that work? Qunlat has almost no grammar to it because asking anyone to learn how to use Qunari grammar and conjugate verbs in a pretend language is impossible, and then once you’ve done that a human being has to be able to read it, while not knowing what any of it means”

PW: “One thing that I was really impressed with with Mary in particular doing, Mary was one of the big lore people across the entire DA series; I can look at a word and go like, ‘That has two A’s in a row, that’s definitely a Qunari word. That word is kind of long and maybe has some apostrophes and has a couple of flowy vowel sounds, that’s probably elven’, I think that’s what’s important. You want players to be able to look at a word, players want to feel smart, [like] ‘Oh I don’t know what that means but I totally know that’s a word from the Qunari people!’”. Mary: “Every language has its own set of phonemes, the sounds that they make, and the sort of word structure and spelling so that it gives a flavor to that language. Hopefully that is always chosen to be pronounceable, because again, very important that the words can be said by human beings :D”

Sheryl: “One of the fun things to do is to make up swear words in the fake languages [...] Recently Brianne wanted a word, I don’t know if she managed to find one”

The origin of bosh’tet in ME: it’s just saying “bastard” and slurring it

PW: “I feel like there are times when past writers kind of leave traps for future writers, where past writers will go ‘Okay, I’m going to write this detailed phrase in a codex entry but don’t worry, it doesn’t matter if it can never be said aloud, because it’ll never have to be voiced!’ and then, next game, guess what guys! Look what you have to make someone [a VA] say! And you’re like [facepalm], c’mon!”

Karin: “Now, four games in, we have pages and pages of all these examples, and I wanna say this, well that’s how we said something before, well that’s ridiculous, I don’t wanna say that, but now we’ve said it and it’s out there, so it’s like, how do we, y’know, how do we evolve, and sometimes we just go ‘Screw it! Languages are living languages! We’ll just say it like this now!’”

PW's favorite is the sarcastic Mythal’enaste, “Because it’s the sarcastic Mythal's blessing that basically means you’re getting screwed over somehow. I love it because Mythal nasty! Whoever wrote that clearly never thought that someone would have to say this out loud”

Sheryl wrote Bull’s joke icicles line. She also wrote Isabela’s big boats line - Jennifer took it out but then DG was like “No it has to come back”

They have a pun test, they get a few of them and have to allot them wisely so as not to oversaturate on the puns. “Is this good/bad enough to be one of the times that we pull the trigger? We did have one of those recently, I obviously can’t talk about it, but it was pronounced Okay to go ahead”

The ‘baby-est’ writer is Brianne, who’s been there 8 years

It makes PW sad that the players never get to see the writers’ temp-text [placeholder text when portions are a WIP]. “People have the best temp-text". Mary: “The number of conversations that I’ve temped in like ‘WELL. I hope nothing BAD happens HERE’”

Q. If you could bring in anybody from outside of gamedev, who would you like to work with and do a writer’s session with? PW: “I will say romance novelist Nora Roberts, she is really smart and also she knows how to write inside a genre, and do wonders within it. Her structure is so good. If you pick up one of her books, you know here’s when this is gonna happen, here’s when they’re gonna meet, here’s when this first moment will happen. We’re all experienced and I feel pretty good about that but I really like all of the things she does that way, and also I am a sucker for romance so I would love to bring a romance novelist in and just have them look at our scenes and go ‘Okay here, no, they should pull the tie so that the article of clothing comes open, we need a sense of how warm the skin is here’ - something like that. I’d wanna see what they could do with that”

“Luke writes the best worst lines”

“I’m always impressed with Mary getting away with lines. There are lines that I look at like, wow, you buried that one. [...] The only players who get that line, I feel like they earned it if they went that far into it. [...] And then Varric or Merrill says a ridiculous line in a one-time throwaway”

Karin: “The group dynamic, you’ll see conversations or snippets of a lunch chat or a thing we’ve been joking about and you’ll see it get pulled in, and how all of you [the writers] are able to take a normal kind of thing - as normal as we get as a group anyway - and then turn it into a moment, and use it to further the plot or use it to further a character. It’s just the cleverest thing and it happens in so many different ways. [...] The little snippet of life, then how you crafted it into this very cool thing”

Quartermaster Threnn was written by PW in half a day. “When I was writing Threnn, ‘Okay, this is a good-hearted [person], I was doing a little bit of Steel Magnolias, southern, no-nonsense, but like, blue collar Steel Magnolias’. This is someone accustomed to the ways of the world so she’s going to call a spade a spade. If you come up to her and you’re an elf she doesn’t recognize you and says ‘Buckets are over there’ because she thinks you’re there to clean, [but] ‘Anyone calls you a knife-ear you come to me I’ll take care of it’. It’s problematic but she’s trying - the good-hearted person rooted for the wrong group on every occasion. She was a proud Loghain supporter, she gets really exited if he comes to Skyhold.  That was a fun character for me to write because I had a viewpoint in my mind. I remember someone was like ‘Threnn is really important to me’. And you have to honor that, cause you’re like ‘Cool, it means so much to me that this connected with some part of you’”

---

Also of interest was the Mass Affection panel, in which BioWare devs looked back in over a decade of history to remaster a classic. It featured devs who worked on MELE. The timestamps for this segment are ~3:36:09 - 4:24:37. Some notes:

When the pandemic hit the MELE team were in a relatively awkward spot. They were really entering into what they consider full production and were on-boarding a bunch of teams, as well as training and on-boarding third-party external partner specialized teams worldwide. When the pandemic hit, BioWare and EA were super on top of it. They were tracking it weeks beforehand, getting everyone their computers ready, and getting everything encrypted. When the middle of March 2020 hit they were home rightaway. EA were nothing but supportive throughout the entire thing. They got money every quarter for stuff. It functionally ‘hit’ at 4-6 different times for them as the pandemic occurred in different places throughout the world at different times depending on each country’s response plan (and their external partners were in different countries). “So it was one of those things where it was just like, every day we’d come in like can we still work with this company anymore? Do we need to find someone else? Do we need to pull people in off the other projects at BioWare to fill gaps here and there?”

There was a bug on Virmire at the part when you’re coming into the STG camp. If the Mako had its new boosters on and you came hurtling in really fast, it cut to the cutscene, but the Mako hit a jump and when Ash was like “What do we do now?” the Mako ended up literally flying around in the background sideways and then crashing into the camp

Another bug: when they were re-tuning the guns, the physics force on some of the guns with Hammerhead rounds was so high that when you were fighting some of the Thorian Creepers, you could ragdoll them so hard that you could basically embed them in the roof. They’d be moving so fast that they’d penetrate all the walls with their legs dangling out. It was so easy to do and you could do it to everybody. You could launch a geth halfway across an Uncharted World

Another bug: with Shepard’s casual appearance in ME3, if you didn’t have it set up perfectly correctly it would default to Grunt for some reason. You’d be walking around as Grunt, going on dates as Grunt, and your face would be all scrunched up because it was all mapped to human bones still, so it was just, like, Nightmare Fuel of Grunt

Another bug: in ME2 on Illium when trying to recruit Samara, the Asari enemies just would not stop screaming - regardless of whether they were hit or not, it was endless screaming. Later one of the devs got an audio file of the scream, endless and looped, and now one of the devs has it on their phone and uses it for their morning alarm tone

“Shepard would come up to characters and they’d just be screaming”

---

There was also the Programming Variables panel, talking about what hurdles game programmers face. Some [or all?] of the devs that were part of this panel are currently working on DA4. They talked a bit about their day-to-day work and about the craft of game dev programming in general. The timestamps for this segment are ~ 4:24:46 - 5:06:02.

[source]

[insights/notes from Gamers For Groceries 1]

[☕ found this post or blog interesting or useful? my ko-fi is here if you feel inclined. thank you 🙏]

[kaitiesnacks]

So, my cousin got married

I got on a plane in the midsts of a pandemic, rode with an uncle and cousin I don’t trust to have maintained distancing, and spent three days surrounded by her fiancés family whom I had never met. Non of which wore a mask.

They had hired help come in with no masks, no sanitizing, no concern. When my anxiety began to bubble over, despite my best efforts, I felt I could confide to the sister of the bride. Someone I considered to be on of my closest confidants. Choosing a very specific moment when the bride was no where in ear shot, I ask the sister why no one was enforcing masks. At the very least, for the complete strangers coming in. Who, I might add, were charging 25% more due to risk of losing their licenses for providing their nail tech services when it’s specifically not allowed IN A PANDEMIC. And yet... not even the most basic sanitation procedures were being followed.

Was I wrong for expressing my concern?

The question was “How do you feel about those women coming in with no masks?”

While, at first, the response came with thought out wording and attempted empathy, the sister quickly became defensive and began to shout at me. Questioning why I even bothered to attend. (I thought these were my very best friends) I calmly asked to not be yelled at. There should be no need to bring attention to what was supposed to be a private moment and no need to yell in general. Unfortunately, as most know, when someone is on the defense and told to bring their heightened emotions down, the reaction can become even more explosive.

The sister slams the counter shoving beauty products into a bag and rushes out the room. I remain sitting, thinking “let her go”. Alas, I hear her heavy steps rush down the stairs paired with her heaving and abrupt sobs. I know she’s running for their mother. Nearly 30 and still reminiscent of our childhood days. My new concern, the bride. Not for fear of her, but for fear of adding a stain to such an important day for her.

Predicting what was to come next, I walk myself down the steps. Just over half way down, the mother of the bride trudges towards me until she’s 6 inches from my face (No mask)

Tears welling in my eyes, I hold my ground and say “Yell at me.” The sister pushes past me back up the stairs hissing as she goes by “Just get out.” The words sting and tears begin to fall. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I trusted you. I went to you for comfort. Her mother then spits “When you called [the bride] last week, I told her she should have kicked you out then and there.”

-For reference, I called the bride two weeks prior to my flight to get some final details such as, will there be masks? How many people will be there? What precautions are being taken to keep everyone safe? Not accusatory, not judging, just inquiring. The final month to the wedding I was assured all precautions were being taken. While I was never given a number, I was told it would be a small attending. I repeated my concerns but ensured my cousin I would be there as long as she wanted me there. It was a day we’ve dreamed of our whole lives after all. She eased my worries. Told me I could wear my mask the entire time if I so pleased, and that no one would judge me. What bullshit that was. -

Now my head is racing. Am I really being kicked out of my best friends wedding right now? I begin shaking uncontrollably and I can’t catch my breath. The brides voice comes from a room above us “What’s going on?” I pray we can just play it off and she can pay no mind to what’s happening. Before I know it she’s by my side. Shouting at her mom and sister to leave me alone. “She’s just scared”

A different aunt, pulls me into a private room. The tears and sweat running down my face is rampant and I know I shouldn’t even be wiping it of because “don’t touch your face”. She essentially tells me I’m over reacting but that I am also completely right in my worries and she too doesn’t understand the hosts’ lack of safety. She asks if I’d feel better if she’d put a mask on in solidarity with me. I say yes, but she never does. The bride entire the room. Her mother tries to follow but the bride scowls at her and tells her to let her handle it. I immediately am apologizing for breaking down. I tell her I don’t want her to worry about me. Please just continue like nothing’s wrong, I promise I’ll collect myself. She asks me if I want to leave. I so desperately do, but I made a commitment to her as one of the most important people in my life. I apologize over and over, she assured me it’s fine and I’m “valid”. She reminds me I cannot control others and I can’t be upset that no one (and I mean no one) is wearing masks.

The moment has passed, the bride and myself take deep breaths. She asks that I speak with her sister upstairs. People are arriving.

Grateful to have my mask hiding my reddened face, I slink back upstairs. The sister and mother are closed up in the bathroom where I can clearly hear them mocking me. I tune it out. I have to calm down. For the bride. A voice in my head says “you are not wrong. Do not feel bad for standing up for your safety” but the guilt feels like a ragged tear in my chest. I repeat to myself “Protect yourself. You can’t worry about others. I’ve made it this far, I have to follow through”.

Another bridesmaid comes up half joking that she was gone for a second and missed all the commotion. I now know word is spreading and I will feel more secluded than ever. I have to put it aside.

The rest of the evening moves so slowly. It’s 109 outside, people crowd in the air conditioned home. The bride asks as we rehearse walking down the aisle that no one links arms. A few pairs defiantly link arms anyways. The sister, being one of them, flashes her eyes towards me as a warning. Out of six pairings, mine is the only one to not be touching. It’s undeniably awkward. I don’t mean for it to come off as rude.

That night alone in my hotel I cry harder than I have all awful year. I’m so torn between what’s right and wrong. The guilt of upsetting the bride, the pain of betrayal from the sister. The loneliness and now questioning my own sanity. Should I really be THIS scared? No one else seems to care at all. I remind myself of an imagined vision of someone I love alone in hospital. No. I will not regret my words. But I do regret attending this wedding. Even still, thinking that feels cruel. It’s not supposed to be like this.

The following day is the wedding. I spend the night wrestling my thoughts. I could just go home. They did try to kick me out after all. Then again, the bride came to my defense as her mother roared in my face. She has my loyalty.

Mere hours before the ceremony, the bride asks that no one wears masks down the isle. Fuck. Did she plan this? I was told I could wear my mask as long as I wanted. Did she know I wouldn’t be able to deny her request? How do you refuse when everyone else obliges?

I stand in the hot sun, thankful that maybe the rays are helping protect us from the virus. The ceremony proceeds and, to my dismay, they follow through with an Irish tradition where all the groomsmen sip beer from the same pint, passing it to the reverend and then to the bride and groom to drink from. That’s nine mouths on one glass in a matter of seconds. I can’t believe my eyes. I’m no longer focused on the joy for the bride and groom, but on my fear. I look into seats filled with 100 people. I count four masks on all together.

It’s not that I’m not happy for the bride. I’m elated for her actually... but to put myself and therefore mine and my boyfriends family at risk is not worth one day of celebrating someone else’s love.

I don’t think I was wrong for being scared or for reaching out to who I thought was a friend. I think I was wrong to follow through and be in the wedding though. I thought I was doing the right thing by supporting my now previous best friend. She said she wanted me there and I wanted to show her my love went beyond all fear. I regret it now.

Now she passively posts on Facebook, about anonymous family members who are “toxic” and are not in support of her. My heart is broken. I tried so hard to find and do the right thing. Now I’ve lost what I considered to be some of my core community. I’ve been betrayed and gaslighted. I feel duped and stupid.

Reflecting now, I shouldn’t be surprised. These patterns have happened through my entire life. This is not the first nor the second time I’ve had my heart crushed by each one of the three women. Hard times reveal true colors and I don’t think things will be the same.

[lumberbeauty7]

Fat Freezing Birmingham.

. Exactly How Does Coolsculpting ® Work?

Content

The Scientific Research Behind Coolsculpting.

How Does Fat Freeze Job?

To date, there are no reports of low mandibular nerve injury or paradoxical adipose hyperplasia complying with treatment with this tool. This manuscript supplies a review of the preclinical work as well as clinical tests connected to cryolipolysis for the treatment of submental fat.

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And also is fantastic for stubborn areas of fat that exercise just does not reach. Cryotherapy is a reasonably new kind of non-invasive fat decrease, however as already come to be widespread in the Visual and also Elegance sector. It is a non-surgical strategy to fat reduction with out damages to various other cells and also tissues. Once comfy, your target area (whether that's upper legs, arms, hips or tummy) is covered with a gel pad. An applicator is then utilized to reveal the skin to chilly temperatures, generally in between -11 to +5 ° C. Due to the nature of the vacuum-like suction and also sub-zero temperature levels, patients can anticipate to feel fairly chilly whilst experiencing some small extending sensations. After a short while this is changed by tingling as well as you can sit back as well as kick back whilst Fat Freezing zaps fat cells away.

The Science Behind Coolsculpting.

Five individuals with various complications of cryolipolysis offered at the scientist's facility in between 2015 and 2018. Three of the four clients with PAH were dealt with at various other facilities with ultrasonic liposuction surgery, laser lipolysis, and radiofrequency skin tightening devices respectively. The fourth individual created PAH after lipo at an additional center. The 5th client created several areas of indentations and atrophy and also obtained mesotherapy and lymphatic massages at another facility. All 5 clients were consequently dealt with in method by means of a customised approach particular to their underlying difficulties.

Cryolipolysis, also known as "fat freezing", it is a treatment that involves the non-invasive air conditioning of body fat to break down fat cells, causing a reduction of body fat without damage to other cells.

The Cryolift, includes revealing the target area to extreme air conditioning.

Fatty down payments or adipocyte cells are sensitive to reduced temperature levels, approximately 40% of the fat cells are ruined throughout the treatment and then subsequently eliminated by the body in a few weeks.

Previous treatments like laser lypolysis needed exercise to metabolise launched fat which this technique does not.

After a cryolipolysis session, the dead fat cells are damaged down as well as eliminated.

Cryolypolysis is clinically verified to eliminate up to 40% of fat cells after one therapy and we are seeing terrific outcomes.

Twenty-one topics aged 34 ± nine years were treated with comparison cryolipolysis approximately abdomen as well as flanks with the Polarys tool. Anthropometry, standard photos, measurements with a skinfold caliper, and also diagnostic ultrasounds were executed at the standard and also during follow-ups at 30, 60, as well as 90 days after the treatment. Cryolipolysis is a non-invasive cooling strategy that is risk-free as well as effective for therapy of submental fat.

Just How Does Fat Freeze Job?

Welcome to Skin Technology non-surgical cosmetic facility, providing the most up to date innovation for face and body treatments. When the fat freezing treatment mores than and also the applicator head has actually been gotten rid of, the area will be strongly massaged as well as the skin will certainly quickly heat up once again. Numerous centers are not able to use 3D Lipo Shockwave Therapy, simply one more reason to pick Skin Tech Center for your fat freezing treatment.

The colour Therapy stimulates all-natural processes to aid revitalize the skin as well as body without damaging the cells. In recent times, cryolipolysis, a non-invasive technique based upon the inherent level of sensitivity of adipocytes to cool injury, has arised. The present evaluation is intended to evaluate available evidence relating to CLL mechanisms of action and also its effectiveness not just in fat decreasing however likewise in its capability to cause a visually ideal outcome. Cryolipolysis is a popular treatment for people looking for non-invasive body contouring. As with any novel treatment, it is crucial for suppliers to acquaint themselves with related negative occasions, to give ideal information to people prior to therapy.

Skinglow Clinic.

You should stick to our aftercare guidance and also give your outcomes time. Using cool to the adipocytes quicken the natural procedure of cell death. The fat cells in the treated location are then removed naturally and permanently by other cells, resulting in the steady thinning of the fat layer.

A lot of people will immediately take advantage of just one session, nonetheless you may need a larger variety of treatments based on the size of the location and the number of areas being dealt with. When you enter into our Leyland facility for your assessment, our personnel will analyze your personal scenarios and also advise on the treatment course to increase your lead to line with your individual aims. After the treatment, an expert will eliminate the gel pad and massage the affected layer of fat back into form. Clients should expect just a small discomfort throughout the session nevertheless, depending on how sensitive your skin is some individuals experience short-lived bruising after the treatment but this is entirely typical. you can find more information on workflow rules on lipofreeze2u.co.uk crm's help pages here. came from after study was done into frostbite, and it was noted that fat cells would certainly freeze before skin ices up. Complying with a fat freeze procedure, period for seeing results can differ among individuals yet we usually advise that finest outcomes are accomplished around 8 weeks. We typically encourage that results can begin to appear after 6 weeks.

The treatment involves placing a cryolipolysis head to the area to be dealt with, a gentle vacuum will certainly attract the skin right into the head for maximum effect. You will feel cold in the area being dealt with, yet this should never be unbearable.

Is Cryolipolysis painful?

Does it hurt? The pain felt from Coolsculpting is primarily experienced during the procedure itself. According to the official Coolsculpting website, the company acknowledges that it's possible to feel pain from the numbness caused by the cooling sensations from the freezing applicator used during the procedure.

Occasionally, light swelling and wounding may happen, but this need to last no more than a couple of days or a week, at worst. Unlike lipo, there are no needles, no anaesthesia, down time or connected dangers to liposuction. The procedure involves targeting a 'trouble location' such as 'love takes care of', tummy, flanks or thighs or even knees and also straight freezing those specific cells in the subcutaneous layer of fat. Extremely just, 'Cryo' indicates involving, or creating, very low temperatures, which is how it functions. The fat is literally frozen, and therefore these fat cells are eliminated without harming the cells around them, and also disposed of via the body by its natural metabolism. It has to be claimed though, the procedure is most reliable on areas of the body that are denser in fat such as the abdominal area, thighs and also arms. This procedure is not to be confused with weight management as it is an inch loss treatment.

The redness and also bruising result from the drawing action of the cooling gadget. A research of 528 people that went through a total amount of 2,729 cycles revealed only three situations of light or modest discomfort, which disappeared within 4 days. Another research study of 518 patients showed 4% of people experienced severe pain throughout the very first 5 mins of treatment as well as the rest of clients reporting moderate to bearable pain. A 2015 analysis of available research concluded that Criolipolysis "offers a compelling alternative to liposuction surgery," and also "results. in considerable fat reduction." Depending upon the thickness of the fat as well as your objectives, you can duplicate the treatment in the very same location a second time if you intend to achieve a far better result. Cryolipolysis has actually the added advantage of usually requiring only one therapy. With greater than 1.5 million Cryolipolysis treatments carried out worldwide, it is verified to be a safe and reliable therapy for non-surgical fat reduction.

Two Coolscupting Experts Answer All Your Fat-Freezing Questions - Vogue.com

Two Coolscupting Experts Answer All Your Fat-Freezing Questions.

Posted: Mon, 04 Jun 2018 07:00:00 GMT [source]