#why do I use AI for homework and searching down stuff

[mixierupperc20]

Oh no, they really didn't recover

For context, I asked the new deep-seek AI to sing the entire 99 bottles of beer in the wall, and they did. Also, their name is Echo

[milstrim]

Comfort in My Shadow

Chapter 5: Ironic

By @iwritedumbshit for @iron-mum

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds, James “Rhodey” Rhodes

Summary: Soulmates are definite in the universe. Nobody knows exactly why they exist, or what dictates who is bonded to who, the only thing known is that they are never wrong. But Peter’s not so sure about that.

Living at the group home had taught Peter a lot about laying low and how to stay alive when nobody cares. But he’d always clung to the hope of the shadow at his feet reflecting his soulmate that had watched over him for years.

Typical that his soulmate is actually a superhero that Peter is convinced shouldn’t want anything to do with him. Maybe, just this once, the Universe was wrong.

But Tony Stark is desperate to prove that it is right.

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

---

"Woah."

"I know, right," Peter said, unzipping the inside of the suit and moving to plug it into Ned's computer. His friend continued to gape at it, fingers trailing over the fabric reverently.

"I can't believe Iron Man made this," he whispered. "I get to sit here. And touch a superhero suit. That Tony Stark made. For my best friend. This is the greatest day of my life."

"You've said that a lot recently," Peter pointed out, pulling up the schematics of the suit on Ned's computer, who turned to look at him in confusion.

"What are you doing? Are you supposed to be messing with it?"

"I'm not messing with it. I'm just going through Karen's code real quickly."

"Karen?"

"The AI," he explained. "I just want to make sure she's not gonna snitch on me."

"Snitch on you for what?"

"Uhhh, so you know those alien weapons I've been talking about?"

Ned nodded. "Yeah?"

"I'm gonna take that down, and I don't really need Karen telling Mr. Stark," he mumbled the last part nervously. Ned stared at him.

"Why don't we want Karen telling Mr. Stark again? I mean, he gave you the suit, he must think you're capable."

Peter paused, puffing up his cheeks as he took in an awkward breath, staring at the protocols showing up on the computer. He'd already spotted three to tell Mr. Stark if he was in trouble, so he knew it was the opposite of Ned's assumption.

"Actuallyyyy..." He took a deep breath. "You can't tell anyone this." Ned nodded, but he continued to press. "I mean it. Nobody. Not a soul."

"I won't, I won't! I promise, Peter. Not. A. Soul."

"Mr. Stark's my soulmate."

Ned's head whipped around to stare at Peter's shadow, his mouth falling open.

"Oh, my God... Oh, my God! He's your soulmate!!?" Peter nodded, preparing himself for Ned's excited ramblings, but he couldn't really hide the smile on tugging at his lips either, however faint it was. "This is insane! Your life is so fucking insane I think I'm going to lose it!! Have you talked to him? Wait--yeah you have! How many times have you talked to him? Have you done, I don't know, 'soulmate things?'"

"Ned, what?"

Ned threw his hands up. "I don't know, I haven't met my soulmate. I'm trying my best, Peter!"

Peter laughed, shrugging.

"I don't really know what 'soulmate things' are, but we had dinner, and he showed me some stuff in his lab."

"Oh, my God...you've been in his lab. You know you have to show me one day."

"Definitely. I'll figure it out later, just, let us get more used to each other? Maybe? Let me impress him at least, which is why I'm trying to keep Karen from snitching on me."

"Sure. Here," Ned agreed, sitting beside him on the bed and gesturing for the computer. Peter passed it over to him wordlessly. "I'll work on the protocols, you do detective work or something."

"Thanks, dude."

"By the way, and answer honestly, is that Tony Stark's hoodie?"

Peter glanced down at the red hoodie that Mr. Stark had given him, 'MIT' emblazoned on the sleeves while the faded logo sat on the front of the piece of clothing. He smiled at Ned. "Yep."

"This is so cool," his friend melted.

With an amused eyeroll, Peter pulled out his phone, clearing his throat and nervously calling, "Karen?"

The phone lit up. "Yes, Peter?"

"Listen, ah, I was wondering if you could help me. I'm trying to figure out who these guys under the bridge were a few nights ago, but I mean, I can only kind of remember part of a license plate."

"Can you tell me where you were?" Peter rattled off Liz's neighborhood. Karen was silent for a little bit before piping up again. "Was there a white van involved?"

Peter perked up. "Yes! Exactly!"

A hologram popped up from Peter's phone. Ned stopped to stare at it as they both let out an identical, "Whoa..."

Peter watched intently from the security camera as the van rolled up under the bridge to where the buyer had been waiting. Karen highlighted the faces for him.

"Okay. The two on the right, who are they?" he asked.

"Searching law enforcement databases," Karen said, pausing before answering. "No records found for two of the individuals."

"Nothing?"

"One individual identified." The recording was replaced by a mugshot. "Aaron Davis, age thirty-three. He has a criminal record and an address here in Queens."

Peter and Ned glanced at each other. Ned said, "The protocols are disabled."

"Let's pay him a visit."

  ---

"So, what's this surprise you've been talking about?"

Tony's head shot up at the sound of his girlfriend's voice. He smiled, turning from where he'd been forcing some kitchen tools into a box to take in the woman as she stepped off of the elevator. She very much looked like she'd just come out of a meeting in sharp business slacks and an exhausted expression.

"Hey, Pep. How was...London?"

"Tokyo," she corrected, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "It was tiring. How's the packing?"

"Eh, boring," he said, kicking the box lightly and shoving his hands in his pockets. "So, anyway, I think that we should reconsider moving to the compound permanently."

"Tony, we just finished all the paperwork for the tower! And most floors have been packed by now, we can't just--"

"Not the tower. Just for us. Ever thought about a nice high-rise in Queens?"

Pepper stared at him, crossing her arms. "Queens? Since when have you ever cared about Queens?"

"Well, that's the surprise."

"The surprise is that you want to move to Queens?"

"No," Tony corrected, unable to stop his bright grin. "The surprise is that my soulmate lives in Queens."

It took a couple of seconds for that to register to Pepper. When it did, her eyebrows raised and she let out a smiled gasp. "You found him?"

Tony nodded. "Yep, just swinging around New York like a maniac."

"Swinging?"

"He's Spider-Man. Well, 'man's' a strong word. Here." He waved his hand, pulling up a screen that displayed Peter's yearbook photo. Pepper cooed at him. "Peter Parker. Top of his class at Midtown High by day, overly excited vigilante by night."

"He doesn't look like he could hurt a fly, never mind stop robberies. How'd he get his powers?"

"Forgot to ask, actually. He wasn't super excited to meet me at first, actually."

Pepper snorted. "Good. I'm glad he doesn't feed your ego."

"Hey! This is serious," he pouted.

"Uhuh." Pepper gave him another kiss on the cheek. "How'd you meet him?"

"Mugging. I bought him a hot chocolate."

"Hmm. I expected something stranger given your track record."

"He ran away."

"There it is," she said. "It's all good now, though?"

"Yeah..."

"Tony?"

He hesitated. "Peter lives at a group home, and I gotta say, not super fond of his foster father."

"Is he... Does he hurt Peter?" Pepper asked. He shrugged.

"Possibly. I gave Peter some money and the guy took it. Spent hundreds of dollars on liquor. And the kid's really thin. Jumpy, too. But there's nothing to prove right now."

"I'm surprised I didn't have our lawyer calling me to say you broke into a foster home and kidnapped a kid."

Tony shrugged, giving her a soft smile. "I don't need to break down the door to say hi to Peter. Besides, kid's wary, gets nervous easily. I don't want to scare him off by being too invasive about his home."

"Good on you for learning some boundaries, Tony," she congratulated before turning just a little more serious as she glanced at Peter's picture again. "You're sure he's alright?"

"No. But he's got a new superhero suit, a phone with me, Friday, and his own AI on speed dial, an unlimited credit card, and a badge to get into the tower. He's got resources if he needs them."

"Then let's just hope he doesn't need them."

 ---

  Peter waited until the next day to find and interrogate Aaron Davis, more at Ned's insistence that they study for their Spanish quiz and to let his friend geek out over the suit than anything else. He'd stayed at his friend's house for as long as humanly possible, readily accepting whatever snack that Ned had pushed his way and going over notes that Karen gave him about Davis. It wasn't until the alarm he'd had Karen set that it was 9:40 went off did he leave.

Peter didn't like to impose on his friend so much, but Ned hadn't seemed to mind with the new addition of a supersuit and Mr. Stark being his soulmate, and the teenager couldn't help the way he was still avoiding Mr. Fowler like the plague. After leaving Mr. Stark's on Sunday and failing to stop a simple burglary, he'd hurried back to the group home, helping Eric with his homework and then cooping himself up in his room. He'd managed to avoid him the entire night and the next morning due to the man being passed out drunk in his room. Though he was still wracked with guilt at the fact that his foster father had stolen Mr. Stark's money on alcohol, he had to admit that it was at least useful.

Bidding goodnight to his friend, Peter slipped out of the apartment and hurried down onto the street where he joined the late night crowd as he made his way back to the group home. He popped his earbuds in and chose a song on his phone (that had an unlimited choice for him now, but he just stuck with his familiar Spotify playlists) as he rushed back to a place that he wished he could avoid for longer. Unfortunately, the curfew was final, so he made it back to the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys with five minutes to spare.

He stopped in front of the door as his hairs rose. Surprisingly, they didn't direct him towards the house, instead calling him to turn around. Peter glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of a man sitting at an apartment's steps a few buildings down. It was too dark to see his face, especially with the hat he wore pulled down low, but he looked just a little familiar. More than a little nervous, the teenager shook it off and stepped inside.

Mr. Fowler was waiting for him at the dining table. Peter paused, taking out his earbuds as Mr. Fowler turned to stare at him, chewing on a slice of pizza. For some reason, despite living in New York, the man was obsessed with frozen pizza. It was practically criminal, but Peter excused it as mind games since all the kids weren't allowed to eat any of it. Only a sociopath would eat exclusively frozen pizza in Queens.

"Pity. I was hoping you'd be late," Mr. Fowler frowned at Peter as he shuffled to a hesitant stop by the stairs. "Got another card for me?"

"No," Peter lied stiffly.

"What? No sugar daddy today?"

He knew better than to argue. "I hung out with Ned."

Mr. Fowler stared at him, but the travel agent was nothing if not a man of his word. Peter had been on time, so he waved the teenager on. Resisting the urge to scramble into the safety of his room, he whisked up the steep stairs and into the dark bedroom only lit by the lamp in the corner.

Tim was already asleep, but Jeremiah was sat on his bed going over what looked like a book report. The teenager paid Peter no mind as he dropped his bag onto the ground beside his bed and changed into a pajama shirt. He kept the hoodie on that Mr. Stark had given despite the warmth of the night as he slipped under his covers, bundling up in the reassuring fabric.

Peter didn't fall asleep for a while, grateful for the light provided by the lamp as he stared at the outline of Mr. Stark's shadow as though it were the only thing in the world. It might as well be for all he cared. Blocking out Mr. Fowler was quickly becoming a new necessity that was increasingly hard to do with the way his senses focused in on every little thing.

The entire house smelled of the man's alcohol, musty and strong and littered with the memories of a dark closet where even his shadow hadn't been able to comfort him. But the hoodie carried the fading scent of Mr. Stark that washed away his tired uneasiness, at least for the time being, and the shadow kept him preoccupied with one comforting thought. Out there, just across a bridge, was an adult who cared.

 ---

  When Peter woke up, he felt off. He wasn't quite sure how to explain it, just that he knew the day was going to go wrong before it started. He wanted to curl up deeper into the hoodie that wrapped around him like a cocoon, but forced himself to push the covers off of himself and plant hit feet on the cold morning floor.

Jeremiah's bed was already empty, so Peter assumed that he'd already eaten and left with Eric, whose school started much earlier than everyone else's. Tim was still asleep, so Peter put on a pair of pants, grabbed his bag, and woke the kid up before knocking on the door of the other kids' room. He then headed downstairs and began putting together bowls of cereal for the kids that would be stumbling downstairs in a few minutes.

Mr. Fowler was in the kitchen, leaving the teenager to shuffle around him awkwardly as the man gave him a suspicious glare that he tried desperately to ignore. He left the kitchen as quickly as possible, placing the bowls down in the kids' usual spots and then taking up his own place to quickly scarf down a bowl of tasteless cereal. By the time he was finished, all the other kids had already stumbled downstairs and begun to eat.

Peter went along preparing their bags and then taking their bowls to the sink once they were done. He had just put the last dish in the dishwasher when the other boys at Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys walked out the door, leaving him alone with Mr. Fowler. The man was staring at him with the same suspicious glare as he closed the pantry and then made to grab his backpack.

"Wait just a moment, Peter," Mr. Fowler said. Peter paused immediately, holding back a shiver at the danger in his tone.

"Sir?"

"There was a pack of granola bars missing from the pantry last night." The man glared at him, clearly waiting for a reaction, but Peter just stared at him, hesitant. Which kid had taken the bars? He hadn't seen anything off in their bags, unless Mr. Fowler had just miscounted, though that didn't happen often. "Anything to say to that, Peter?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, sir. I didn't take them."

"You didn't? I find that very hard to believe. How close are you to ending your grounding?"

"Three days, Mr. Fowler."

He tutted, standing up from his chair and stepping over to Peter. The teenager couldn't stop the way he froze, tensing up and squaring his shoulders as a large, meaty hand clamped down on one. Fingers curled over the thick fabric of his hoodie, pricking at his skin.

"Well, it would be a pity if it was extended longer. You're sure you didn't take anything?"

"Nothing, sir." The hand flashed to his hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling his head down and to the side with a pained grunt. Peter forced his breaths to steady even as tears pricked at his eyes. "I didn't take anything, Mr. Fowler, I promise!"

"Then you've wasted my time, son. Do you know what makes up for lost time?"

"Wha-what? Sir."

"A bit of hard cash." Peter noticed the way the man's hand trembled. "That card was nice for the weekend, but I'm afraid I'm running a little low. Got anything else for me?"

His thoughts flashed to the newly activated card sitting in his wallet, tucked safely in his hoodie pocket. He could just give it up and walk away. Mr. Fowler would be happy and Peter could go to school, safe and sound.

Steely eyes met Mr. Fowler's impossibly strained ones. "No. I don't have any other money."

The fist let go of his hair, throwing him back. Peter caught himself in a stumble as Mr. Fowler looked at him in disgust.

"Fine," the man rasped. "Extend your grounding until next week, then. Now get to school before I'm forced to call you in an excuse."

Peter mumbled out a grated, "Yes, sir," before stumbling out the door. Instead of making his way to school, he stumbled into the nearest alleyway. The teenager sucked in a deep breath, cursing himself for the tears biting at his eyes and the panic choking his throat. He was fine. Nothing had happened. He was completely fine. It wasn't like the extension of his grounding even mattered, Peter had money to buy food when he needed it. Everything. Was. Fine.

But Peter wasn't fine. He was choking on air and stumbling on panic as he slid down a grimy alleyway wall, unable to even begin to calm down. He didn't know why he was even freaking out so bad, Mr. Fowler had only pulled his hair, but the revival of the strong smell of liquor and the closeness of the man's face to his was horribly haunting.

Peter pulled at his hair as he finally managed to wheeze in a breath, staring desperately at the shadow in front of him. Mr. Stark's fluffy hair and tall shoulders seemed to stare back at him, almost reassuring. The teenager shoved his nose into the collar of his cardinal hoodie, taking in a deep breath to drown out Mr. Fowler.

It calmed him slightly.

But not quite enough.

With chattering teeth, Peter pulled his bag off of his shoulder and tore the suit out of it. With no hesitation, he took off his clothes and stepped into the suit. Karen greeted him instantly.

"Good morning, Peter. Shouldn't you be heading to school?"

"Uh, no, no. Not today, Karen. That man, Aaron Davis? Where is he right now?"

A path was highlighted on his screen.

 ---

  "Remember me?"

Peter's voice was almost hilariously unnatural, but the man at the car stumbled back, so he guessed it worked. He thundered forward to where Aaron Davis was trying to stumble away from his car but was pulled back by the web sticking to the open hood.

"Uh, hey..."

"I need information. You're gonna give it to me now," Peter demanded half-heartedly, the enhanced interrogation mode making his voice much angrier. Maybe it was better than he thought.

"All right, chill," Davis placated.

"Come on!"

Davis paused, staring at him in confusion. Peter tried not to shuffle on his feet. "What happened to your voice?"

Crap.

"What do you mean, what happened to my voice?"

"I heard you by the bridge. I know what a girl sound like," Davis deadpanned.

"I'm not a girl! I'm a boy," Peter protested, quickly moving to correct himself. "I mean, I'm a--I'm a man."

"I don't care what you are, a boy, a girl..." the man trailed off with a shrug, continuing to load his car with groceries.

"I'm not a girl! I'm a man," he protested again. "Come on, man. Look, who is selling these weapons? I need to know. Give me names--or else."

Davis slammed the trunk shut and Peter flinched back on instinct. The man flashed him a teasing smile, shaking his head.

"You ain't ever done this before, huh?"

"Deactivate interrogation mode," Peter said sullenly. Davis huffed in amusement, shaking his head again. "Look, man, these guys are selling weapons that are crazy dangerous. They can't just be out on the streets. Look, if one of them can just cut Delmar's bodega in half..."

Davis, not paying attention in the slightest, looked up, regarding him in slight interest. "You know Delmar's?"

"Yeah, best sandwich in Queens," he shrugged.

"Sub Haven's pretty good."

"It's too much bread."

"I like bread."

"Come on, man, please," the teenager begged one last time. Davis stared at him, unresponsive, so with a dramatic throw of his hands, Peter began to walk away. "Stupid interrogation mode. Karen, don't ever do that again."

"The other night," Aaron started. Peter turned around to look at him. "You told that dude, "if you shoot somebody, shoot me." It's pretty ballsy. I don't want those weapons in this neighborhood. I got a nephew who live here.

Tentatively, Peter stepped back over, catching sight of the man's shadow. It was smaller, clearly a boy with a tall afro.

"Who are these guys? What can you tell me about the guy with the wings?"

"Other than he's a psychopath dressed like a demon, nothing. I don't know who he is or where he is." Peter sighed, leaning his head on the car roof. He was never going to prove to Mr. Stark he was worthy of being his soulmate when he couldn't even find the vulture guy. Aaron offered, "I do know where he's gonna be."

Peter perked up. "Really?"

"Yeah, this crazy dude I used to work with, he's supposed to be doing a deal with him."

"Yes!" Peter exclaimed, beginning to step away in giddiness. "Yes. Thank--"

"Hey, hey, hey," Aaron called. Peter stopped. "I didn't tell you where. You don't have a location."

Peter flushed bright red, making his way back to the car in embarrassment. "Right, of course. Yeah, my bad. Silly. Just...Yeah. Where is it?"

"Can I give you some advice?" Peter hummed. "You got to get better at this part of the job."

"I don't understand. I'm intimidating."

He crossed his arms, but Aaron only shook his head again.

"Staten Island ferry, eleven."

"Oh, that's soon," Peter realized. He began to walk away, pointing a finger at where the man's hand was webbed. "Hey, that's gonna dissolve in two hours."

"No, no, no, no. Come fix this."

"Two hours. You deserve that."

"I got ice cream in here."

"You deserve that. You're a criminal! Bye, Mr. Criminal!!"

 ---

  Tony clapped his hands together in an attempt to dust them off as he stared around the packaged remains of his lab. Scribbled formulas and problems had been wiped clean from boards, tables folded and disassembled, and prototypes all packed into boxes ready to be loaded onto the plane in a few days time. Most of what was left in his workplace was personal items and two encased Iron Man armors.

"How we looking on time, Fri?" he asked, grabbing his mug from where he'd placed it on the counter earlier and taking a sip.

"Packing for the move to the compound is on schedule, boss," the AI responded.

"Great," he said, smacking his lips at the comforting bitterness of his coffee, "How's the search for a Queens apartment going?"

"I have several different listings placed into the Itsy Bitsy Spider folder for you to look at."

"Great. Forward them to Pepper."

"Of course, sir."

Satisfied with the prospective of flipping through apartment listings closer to Peter in the evening, he glanced down at his shadow, frowning at the lack of fluffy hair there. It was Tuesday, wasn't it? He checked his watch for the time. Barely eleven. He was pretty sure Peter should be in school by now.

"Friday, is the spider-suit active?"

"Yes, sir."

He frowned harder. "Activate the Baby Monitor Protocol, I want to see what's going on."

"That protocol has been disabled, sir."

"What?"

The AI was silent for a moment before responding, "It has been disabled, along with many others. The only way to reinstate them would be manually."

Tony glanced down at his shadow again. Surely the kid wasn't messing with the suit? And especially not the protocols to keep him safe? And he'd skipped school, too.

"Call Peter."

 ---

  Peter peered over the top of the ferry roof at the men gathering below, who practically screamed shady. He kept an eye on Dronie's recording, the small robot keeping an eye on the other two guys up on the ferry, while Karen highlighted the men below.

"Who’s the guy on the left?" he asked, his spine shivering as he looked at the man.

"Mac Gargan. Extensive criminal record, including homicide. Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark?"

"What? No. I've got this, Karen."

One of the men that Peter had seen at the bridge approached Gargan. Peter could easily pick up his muttered. "White pickup truck."

Gargan nodded at one of his crones, who immediately began walking into the inside of the ferry holding the cars.

"Dronie," Peter whispered. "Scan the ship for a white pickup truck."

He watched the footage apprehensively as Dronie flew farther outside the ferry, x-raying the boat to pick out the truck inside. The robot then zipped over to it, beginning to scan the contents covered in the trunk but flying away and back to Peter as a man stepped out the front. His leg bounced nervously as the robot settled back in his chest, his heart beating erratically.

"Oh, this is too perfect," Peter said. "I got the weapons, buyers, and sellers all in one place."

"Incoming call from Tony Stark."

"No, no, no. No, no, don’t answer."

Despite his protests, the screen of his suit was swept away as Mr. Stark filled his screen. Peter tried not to grimace, keeping a careful eye on the men below even as the billionaire began to speak.

"Mr. Parker. Got a sec?" Mr. Stark greeted with a tight smile.

"Uh, I’m actually at school," Peter lied, ignoring Karen's correction in his ear. "I gotta get back to class, Mr. Stark, so--"

"What class?"

"Uhh--" Shit, what did he have at eleven? "Alge--"

The ferry's horn blared excruciatingly loudly. Peter resisted the urge to grimace, trying to keep an eye on the criminals below still.

"Band. I'm at, uh, band practice."

Mr. Stark stared at him, unimpressed. "That's...odd. You told me you quit band when you started swinging around as Spider-Man."

"I gotta go. Uh, end call."

"Hey," Mr. Stark protested, but the screen clicked close, allowing Peter to clearly see the people below once more. He flicked out a wrist, snapping a web onto a pair of keys being handed over.

"I’ll take those! Yoink!" He flipped, snatching the keys and webbing them to the ceiling. "Hey, guys. The illegal-weapons-deal-ferry was at 10:30. You missed it."

He webbed away the weapons from two guys quickly and threw them into the water. With a shiver up his spine, he ducked out of the way of the approaching man wearing the shocking gauntlet. The man's weaponized arm got stuck in the net on the ferry.

While he was distracted with the gauntlet guy, the other two he'd disarmed had scrambled to their feet, egging for a get away. Peter turned lackadaisically, webbing them

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not so fast." He threw the two to the ground. "Are you guys okay? My bad. That was a little hard. I gotta say the other guy was way better with that thing. I’m honestly, I’m, I’m shocked."

This was going super well.

 ---

  Peter let out a short scream of pain, suspended between the two crumbling halves of the ferry. His arms burned as he gripped at the webs fruitlessly, but he refused to let go. He could hear their heartbeats, fast and afraid and exactly like his own. The teenager panted, straining harder than he ever had before only to continue to fail. The ferry wasn't coming back together, his webs hadn't done anything, and the entire ship was going to fall apart.

And yet he refused to let go, even as he felt his arms tear painfully. He cracked his eyes open, searching desperately for his shadow. It was currently lost in the waves crashing underneath as cars piled into the rushing water. There was a moment, so quick he almost missed it, where a car hood stayed still long enough just for him to make out the shadow.

Of an Iron Man armor.

There was a metal groaning and an easing on his shoulders. Peter looked away from his shadow.

"What the hell?" With the ferry putting itself together, the teenager let himself drop onto the ferry floor, arm raised in fearful apprehension as the sound of metal colliding echoed around the entire boat. "What the hell..."

Mr. Stark in the Iron Man armor rose into view at the windows. Despite the fact that he was wearing a mask, it was easy to tell he looked angry. Or, hopefully, he was reading too much into it and the suit was just mean looking.

"Hi, Spider-Man. Band practice, was it?"

Nope. He sounded mad too. Peter had to force down a shiver, ignoring the clapping people and swinging to the cargo hold as Mr. Stark flew under it, beginning to piece the ship back together. He followed anxiously on the ceiling, turmoil sitting heavy in his stomach as he followed the man.

"Uh, Mr. Stark?" he called nervously. He continued to skitter after the man as he flew up to the ferry's top, trying to catch the man's attention even as he continued to ignore the teenager. "Hey, Mr. Stark. Could I do anything? What do you want me to do?"

"I think you’ve done enough."

Peter couldn't even bear to look at his shadow.

 ---

  "So that’s it, you’re just gonna run?" Adrian asked as Schultz approached with his overflowing duffle bag.

"Feds were waiting for us. Now we’re on Iron Man’s radar? Yeah, I’m running. You should, too."

"You know I can’t do that," Toomes said, glancing down at the shadow of his wife.

"So now what?" Schultz shrugged. Adrian rubbed at his chin.

"Mason, can you get that high-altitude seal thing up and running in time?"

"Seriously?" the engineer asked, comically giddy despite how hilariously screwed they all were. "Yes. You will not regret this."

Adrian turned back to Schultz. "You in?"

The man glanced down on the floor, contemplative. "If we get caught, we're dead. And we have days before that plane takes off. We'll be caught before then. Stark will get us, you know that."

"So we take care of Stark."

"Take care of Stark? You're crazy. How the hell are we gonna to kill Iron Man?"

Adrian thought for a moment, thoughts creeping back to the night over the lake; a defensive boy and an over-eager man and matching shadows. Peter Parker, as had been reported by one of his men following the kid. He even went to Liz's school, on her academic team and everything. He hurt a little to do this, but nothing was more important than family.

"We don't need to kill Stark," Adrian responded. "We just need to insure his compliance."

  ---

Tony finally spotted the kid sitting on the edge of the building, his legs thrown over the side, his mask torn off his face as he stared down at the water. The bulky outline of the Iron Man armor extended behind him, an imposing figure compared to the hunched and shivering kid. The sound of sirens and helicopters rang in the distance, only feeding fuel to the fire that was his anger. It had been two days since he'd given Peter the suit and he'd already hacked it, lied to him, and endangered the lives of more than a hundred people. He'd taken Tony's tech and ran with it, doing what the man had warned the teenager not to do, and almost gotten himself killed too.

It terrified him just as much as it infuriated him.

"Previously on Peter Screws the Pooch," Tony started, hovering next to Peter's spot on the building. "I tell you to stay away from this. Instead, you hacked a multimillion-dollar suit so you could sneak around behind my back doing the one thing I told you not to do."

"Is everyone okay?" Peter rasped.

"No thanks to you."

He clunked down on the ground, but Peter barely even looked at him, just grasping the mask in his fingers tighter. After a tense moment, the kid turned to glare at him, a sour look on his face.

"What do you care?"

The question almost shocked Tony from his anger, but the fury managed to cling on as the suit opened, allowing for him to step out. There was a defensive flicker on Peter's face, washed away as quickly as it came, at the stiff anger glued to his figure.

"What do I care?" he echoed incredulously. "Who the hell gave you the suit that you're wearing right now? The one that you used to go fight people you weren't ready to fight. Peter, you're not prepared for this--"

"I didn't see you doing anything."

"Who do you think called the FBI, huh?" Tony demanded.

"And they got their asses kicked immediately!"

"And you did what exactly?"

Peter swallowed. A soft, angry mumble shivered from his chest. "I just wanted to be like you."

Tony glowered. "And I wanted you to be better."

Peter didn't have an answer to that, turning away with a sharp flinch to stare down at the water again where the ferry was finally beginning to dock. His face was scrunched up in cold anger. Tony stared at him, waiting, but the teenager didn't do anything. Didn't say anything. With an indignant sniff, Tony glanced between the approaching boat of people and the kid sitting stiffly in front of him.

"Okay, it’s not working out. I’m gonna need the suit back."

That caught Peter's attention. His head whipped around and he finally swiveled off of the building's edge, standing to face him. The defensiveness was back in full force now, broken only by a shiver of fear in the tremble on his face.

The teenager swallowed. "For how long?"

"Forever." Peter gaped at him, shaking his head. Tony hit him with a withering expression. "Yeah. Yeah, that’s how it works."

"No, no, no... Please, please, please..." the kid rushed, his voice pitching higher.

"Let’s have it."

"You don’t understand. Please. This is all I have. I’m nothing without this suit."

"If you’re nothing without this suit, then you shouldn’t have it." Tony stopped in his demand, pausing to stare into the distance under the guise of letting Peter absorb his words but really choking down his own panic and regret. This was how he was treating his soulmate. He hadn't known this kid for a week and he'd had maybe two successful conversations with him. And now he was yelling and bringing down and punishing. "God, I sound like my dad."

Peter stared at him, swallowing. "Mr. Stark, please I don't want you to g--"

"The suit. Peter."

He could barely even look at the kid's completely dejected expression.

  ---

Peter meandered down the street, his head down as he forced himself to bite down on tears. It wasn't that hard, he'd had a lot of practice recently after all, but he couldn't deny that it hurt. Well, he could, but not to himself.

With the loss of the suit, Peter's bag was considerably lighter. Empty. It was disturbingly similar to how he felt in the moment, like a stumbling shell of a person.

He'd fucked up. He knew he had. But he didn't think he'd fucked up enough to lose his soulmate. He'd just--he'd just wanted to try and impress Mr. Stark, to show the man that he was worthy of being the shadow that had followed the superhero--his hero--around for fifteen years. He huffed to himself quietly at the horrible irony of it all.

After Mr. Stark had demanded to the suit, well, Peter had given it to him. He hadn't had much other choice. The man had allowed for him to go grab the bag he'd webbed to an alleyway earlier and change into his clothes. Choking down panicked tears, the teenager had folded up the barely used suit, and, after a moment of hesitation, slipped the card, the phone, and the badge given to him into the mask. He wanted to have given him the red hoodie too, but it was the only top he'd had, so he'd reluctantly kept it. He'd given the stuff that was no longer his to the still seething Avenger and had left. Mr. Stark hadn't ask where he was going, so he hadn't told him.

Not that Peter was amazingly sure he knew himself. He didn't want to go back to where Mr. Fowler was surely working from home. Peter was supposed to be at school, the man would be furious that he hadn't gone, and he didn't have the courage to face him right now. The ghosted feeling of a hand tugging at his hair and painful nails in his shoulder was enough to keep him wandering the streets of Queens for as long as he possibly could.

There wasn't a destination, there was barely even a journey, there was just the tired wanderings of a teenager trying desperately not to break down crying. Part of him wished he'd kept the phone, just so he could text Ned, or even lose himself mindlessly on social media for an hour or two, but Mr. Stark's words rang clearly in his head.

"Forever."

Peter shook himself vigorously, taking a wispy breath. Of course he would lose his soulmate not even a week after meeting him. Everyone else had left too, it really only made sense.

He didn't know why he'd let himself hope.

"I don't want you to go."

A painfully strong shiver up his spine forced the teenager to stop in the middle of the alleyway he'd been cutting through. Peter pulled back his sleeve, brows furrowing as the hairs on his arm rose on end. Without his phone, or the watch kept on his webshooter, the teen had no way of knowing what time it was, but it had to have been at least half an hour since Mr. Stark had taken the suit. Since he'd caused a gun to split a ferry full of innocent bystanders in half.

"And I wanted you to be better."

Peter had assumed his senses had continued to freak out from the resounding adrenaline and the complete rush of panic that had been today--from the horribleness of it all--but they still weren't calming down.

Jittery, he turned to leave the alleyway back the way he came, but there was a man blocking his way. He froze when he recognized him and the glitching gauntlet on his arm. From the bridge and the ferry. The man stalked forward.

Peter whipped around to escape towards the other end, but another man stood there as well, a different alien weapon in his hands. Peter paused again, eyes shifting desperately for an escape even as the weapon behind him charged up with a threatening snap.

"Give it up, kid," ordered the man. "Come easy, and we won't hurt you."

"Wow. So reassuring," Peter snapped. Without warning, the teenager leaped, jumping onto the wall as high as he could reach. He attempted to begin skittering up the wall, but there was another spike in his senses.

There was no time to dodge as he was encased by an annoyingly familiar blue light that crashed him to the ground straight into a gathering of trashcans. He groaned in pain as he collided with the metal, the cans tipping over and releasing their contents near and on him. There were footsteps, and he tried to push himself back up, but the man with the gauntlet approached quicker than he could recover.

The teenager stared up at him as the man smirked. The gauntlet cracked.

"Nighty-night."

Peter could only close his eyes as a metal fist came crashing down.

---

~Click for better quality~

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

[fourdaysofrain]

By Any Other Name

Summary: 5 times Peter called Mr. Stark Tony, and one time he called him something else entirely. 

(Still set in the Irondad oasis between Homecoming and Infinity War)

Read on AO3

i. in the lab

It started, as most of their personal conversations do, during a late night in the lab. Peter was alternating between working on a history worksheet and his web-shooters, switching between the two projects when he ran out of steam. Tony was idly tinkering with a box of scraps while he waited for FRIDAY to process his newest idea for nanotech, which would take at least another hour. It was a gentle kind of silence that filled the room, only broken by various lab noises that they had both since learned to tune out-- a whir here, the ting of a fallen screw there, the soft scratching of a pencil on paper. 

“Hey Mr. Stark,” Peter said, his voice easily carrying over the room, “What was the main catalyst for World War I?”

There was a short pause while Tony switched his attention from the growing pile of machinery in front of him to the teenager across the room before he answered, “Franz Ferdinand’s death.”

“Thanks,” Peter responded as he quickly wrote something down, “that’s what I thought, but I wasn’t sure about his name.” He laughed to himself softly, but it faded when he looked up to see Tony looking at him intently.

Tony took a breath to center himself before speaking. How could he tell the kid every time he called him Mr. Stark, it just reminded him of shitty fathers and childhoods spent masquerading like adults and drinking to avoid the stares of students and professors alike and-- he cut off his spiral with a short sniff. He decided casual was the best way to approach this. 

“Hey kid, why do you still call me Mr. Stark?”

Peter blanched as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. 

“It’s just that you’re a billionaire and a literal superhero, and May raised me to be respectful, I guess. There’s nothing more to it.” If it weren’t for the slightly more hysterical than normal nervous laugh that followed, Tony might have believed him. 

“You call Rhodey by his first name,” Tony countered, “well, technically by his middle name, but the point stands.”

“That’s different because Rhodey’s not--” the man who spends all of his time either protecting me or poking fun at me, my childhood hero, my quasi-dad parental figure type person “--my mentor.” 

“I can safely say that as your mentor, and given that you are also a ‘literal superhero,’” he rolled his eyes, successfully getting an annoyed smile from Peter, “I hereby grant you the ability to call me Tony.” He punctuated his words with a quick flourish of his hands. 

Peter sighed before making hesitant eye contact, tapping his fingers against the leg of his jeans, “Okay… Tony.”

“That wasn’t too bad, was it? The world is still standing, the clock is still ticking,” now it was Peter’s turn to roll his eyes, “and speaking of the clock still ticking, looks like we let it tick a little too long. Time for bed, Spiderling.”

Peter reacted quickly to the change in conversation, “I can’t go to bed yet! I still have a few questions on this worksheet, and it’s due tomorrow!”

“You should have thought about that sometime before--” his eyes flitted to the clock and back, “--12:30 am. Jesus kid, you really do have to get to bed. Don’t want you taking after me too much.” 

Tony tried to keep his tone light and joking, but it fell flat. Peter and him made eye contact for a second that seemed to stretch towards infinity before Tony looked away, pretending to study something on his desk.  

“I mean, red and gold aren’t my colors, but I could manage,” Peter joked. 

Tony chuckled at that, letting himself live in a world where his biggest regret was Iron Man’s suit design for a few moments. 

“C’mon kid, flattery will get you nowhere. Let’s close up for the night.” He didn’t bother with clearing the scraps off his desk, he would go back down to the lab after making sure Peter went to bed. 

“Please let me finish this, I promise it’ll be less than five minutes. I’ll even use FRIDAY so I can go even faster!”

“Kid, only you could make cheating sound like a good thing,” Tony took a beat to decide, as if Peter didn’t already have him wrapped around his finger, “Alright, just don’t tell your aunt that I let you stay up so late, it makes me look irresponsible. Or Pepper, for that matter. Thank God she’s still on her business trip or we would both be in trouble.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Stark-- Tony. I’ll be out of here soon.” 

Tony huffed out a laugh at the kid’s antics as he walked across the room to grab some more tools. 

True to his word, Peter finished his homework in record time, thanks to FRIDAY’s seemingly endless database of information. Just as Tony was relaxing into the steady back and forth of their conversation, he heard the harsh zip of Peter’s backpack.

“Alright, it’s all finished, so I can go to bed now,” Peter said, looking pointedly at Tony. 

“What’s with the look?”

“I think if you’re forcing me to go to bed, you should too.” Peter normally lost his filter when he was tired, so Tony shouldn’t be surprised that he’s getting rightfully called out.

“How about this-- I’ll walk you up, and then you can pretend I went to bed and not listen to my footsteps as I come back down here.” 

Peter rolled his eyes but saved the witty comeback. He instead just walked to the door with his backpack and looked back at Tony like a dog getting ready for a walk. The imagery made Tony laugh to himself. 

“Alright, I’m coming. FRI, put the lights to 50% all the way to Pete’s room.” A quick confirmation from the AI was all he needed to open the door and lead the way to the bedroom wing. He slung an arm around Peter, grasping his shoulder as the kid walked sleepily beside him.

They walked in amicable, or just tired, silence until they got to Peter’s door. May let him spend the night enough times that Peter finally felt comfortable enough to take ownership of the room, instead of having everyone pretend it was the guest room. It had a small whiteboard on the outside, reminding Tony of his days in the dorms at MIT. Tony smirked when he saw that someone, probably one of Peter’s Midtown friends, had drawn a spider building a web in the corner. 

“Last stop, Underoos,” Tony said, softly breaking the silence. Peter mumbled a thanks as he went to open the door. He looked at Tony expectantly for a beat before walking into his bedroom. 

“Goodnight, Tony,” came Peter’s voice from inside as the door closed behind him. Tony frowned. He sounded disappointed. He shrugged it off as lack of sleep.

“Night Pete,” he replied.

He stood still in front of Peter’s door. He wanted to go back to the lab to work on his newest idea for nanotech. He knew FRIDAY would be done with rendering the new models by now. Nonetheless, he signed before continuing down the hall to his own bedroom. That damn kid. 

ii. in the kitchen

The kitchen was filled with the aroma of warm spices. Peter followed it like a cartoon character after a pie. He expected to find Pepper, or maybe even Rhodey, baking something to share with everyone. He wasn’t prepared to see Tony Stark wearing an apron with the Mark VII’s arc reactor printed on the chest while singing proudly along to the music playing through FRIDAY’s speakers. Peter could have sworn he saw that apron at a tourist shop somewhere downtown. He walked into Tony’s line of sight, causing him to stop singing and tell FRIDAY to turn the volume down, though he didn’t look at all embarrassed at being caught. 

“Hey kid, have you ever had my famous molasses cookies? They’re an old Stark recipe. My mom taught me, her dad taught her, his dad... et cetera. It’s passed onto the firstborn. Top secret stuff.” He shot a silly wink across the room. 

Peter shook his head, still shell-shocked from seeing Tony acting so… domestic. 

“Well, today’s your lucky day. The first batch just came out.” Tony motioned to where a dozen cookies were sitting on a wire rack, and Peter eyed it hungrily. 

“Thanks, Mr. Stark!” As Pete moved to the counter to grab one, Tony stepped in to block his way.

“What’s the magic word?” he asked playfully. 

“Please?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’ with a smirk, “for me, it’s Tony.”

Peter shook his head as he said, “Sorry. Thanks, Tony.” He was rewarded with a clear path to the cooling cookies. He walked over and grabbed one, nowhere near as excited as he was a few seconds earlier. Tony frowned.

“What’s up, Pete?”

“Nothing,” Tony fixed him with a hard stare, and Peter took a second before continuing, “it’s just that calling you Tony is weird for me.” He grabbed a few cookies and a napkin, and sat at the counter across from Tony, not eating them yet.

“Why would it be weird? It’s my name, right?” Peter nodded, so he continued, “Mr. Stark is what everyone called my dad, or what people trying to brown-nose called me. Neither of those options makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. You’re better than them, kid.” A flash of guilt went over Peter’s face, but Tony convinced himself he imagined it. 

“It’s just I already had the habit of calling you Mr. Stark, so it’ll take me a while to get used to it. No biggie,” he ended with taking a bite of a cookie, “Oh my God, these are insane! Why have you never made them before?”

Tony wasn’t entirely convinced but was willing to let it slide for now. 

“Next time, I’ll teach you the recipe so you can make them yourself,” he said casually.

“Um, didn’t you say the recipe was for Starks only?” Peter looked up from his cookies to Tony, his eyes wide and innocent. 

“Yeah well,” Tony scratched his eyebrow, searching for what to say, “just don’t tell TMZ and I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

Peter smiled softly to himself as he continued to eat. Tony failed to suppress his own warm smile as he started to scoop out the next batch. The unsaid message was heard loud and clear.

You’re family. 

iii. at home

May and Peter were eating take-out at the table, May’s failed dinner residing somewhere in the dumpster outside. The clinks of their silverware and their warm conversation filled the apartment. 

“So what are your plans for this weekend? Ned seemed excited about something last time I saw him,” May asked as she took another bite. Peter made sure to swallow his own mouthful of food before responding.

“He got a new Lego set, and I’m going to help him build it on Sunday. But Friday night I’m going to spend the night at Tony’s, he said he already cleared it with you, and then Saturday I’ll probably be patrolling and doing homework all day.” Peter looked at May to find her smiling at him. He gave her a confused look.

“It’s so funny to hear you call him Tony. Like he’s a high school friend or something.” Peter laughed along with her goodnaturedly. 

“He said Mr. Stark makes him feel like his dad, so I’m getting used to saying Tony.”

“I can imagine. If you called me Mrs. Parker I think I’d have to kick you out.��� May and Peter shared a playful smirk.

“Yeah well, that’s different. You’re my aunt, he’s Iron Man!” Peter still couldn’t hide his feeling of awe at personally knowing the Iron Man. May just smiled sweetly at him. 

“And being your aunt is the closest to a superhero I ever want to be,” May said as she reached over and rubbed his cheek, “and speaking of Tony, you should invite him over for dinner sometime. I’m willing to let him try to win me over after seeing how much he matters to you.”

Peter blushed but nodded. May hummed in response, and they kept eating dinner.  

iv. at the front desk

Peter swore under his breath. He’s supposed to be working on Dum-E and U’s little brother right now, but he has to get to the lab first. He was in the lobby of the tower (Tony decided not to sell it after the whole plane crash incident), and couldn’t think of how to get past the front desk. His suit was still being repaired in the lab, so he couldn’t just crawl up the side of the building. Happy didn’t drop him off today, so he couldn’t use his ID card, and his phone died on the cab ride over, so he couldn’t just text Mr. Stark-- Tony.

He’s gotten better with calling him Tony, but it still feels clunky and strange on his tongue. And now, he had the added guilt of making Tony think of his dad every time he messed up. They didn’t talk about it much, but Peter was good enough at understanding subtext to know he wasn’t a good person to be reminded of. He hated to see the hurt look on his face when he couldn’t say Tony with the same excitement as Mr. Stark. But how do you explain to someone that using their first name makes you think of your dead uncle?

Peter knew he’s had a lot of trauma in his life, especially regarding the death of family members-- specifically, parental figures. 

He called Richard “Dad” because that’s what he was, and that’s all he thought mattered at that age. He taught him to tie his shoes, he was there when he was born, and he heard his first word. But then, he died. And Peter moved in with Aunt May and Uncle Ben. 

He called Ben by his first name because Dad was already taken. It was a simple decision. They had a conversation one night where Peter said he saw Ben as a father in every way except for the title. Ben’s eyes had been misty as he gave him a hug goodnight that evening. Then Ben was also taken from him, and he was left to mourn with Aunt May. 

Enter Tony Stark. Peter has known him since just a few months after he got bit by a spider and fell into the persona of a crime-fighting vigilante. In the short time he’d known him, Tony had already made a big impact on his life. An upgraded suit, access to a high-tech lab with the supplies to make anything he could ever want, and, of course, another sort of father figure. Tony isn’t as confident in his emotions as Ben, or as outwardly paternal as Richard, but their bond is already much stronger than a standard mentor-mentee relationship. 

It’s depressing to even think about, but Peter is running out of ways to address the influential men in his life. Richard got the title, Ben got the first name, which leaves an awkward “Mr. Stark” leftover. It didn’t make sense, Peter knew that, but calling Mr. Stark by his first name just made him think of all the times he called Ben by his. But he’d gone through worse, and he could handle saying Tony, for his sake. 

He shook his head a bit before finally walking up to the front desk. The best way out of the woods is through, after all. He smiled awkwardly at the woman behind the front desk, knowing he must have seemed very out of place. 

“Can I help you?” she said, looking at his nerdy graphic tee and jeans dismissively over her glasses.

“Yes, thank you, I’m just here to see Tony.” Peter tried to give his best I’m a sweet kid, please help me smile. 

“Tony…?”

“Sorry, Tony Stark. I’m supposed to be in the lab with him right now, but I was running late so I had to take a cab, and my phone died so I can’t text him,” he started to trail off, looking for any reaction in the receptionist. 

“Cute,” she said, her bored expression not changing, “but Mr. Stark is very busy right now. You can check the website for when he does meet and greets. If you have any fan mail, you can leave it with me and I’ll send it to his office.”

“No I’m--” Peter cut himself off by running a hand through his hair, “I’m not a fan, I’m serious, can you just tell him Peter’s in the lobby?”

“Listen kid,” and wow did it sound much icier than when Tony said it, “you seem really sweet, but do you really expect me to believe that not only does a middle schooler get to spend one-on-one time with the owner of SI in his personal labs, but he’s on a first name basis with him, too?”

“I’m in high school,” Peter said, but his confidence had already wilted. He wished that he and Tony had actually set up his internship documents instead of continuously putting it off, so he could just scan an ID and walk in. 

“Sure. Do you have any other stories, or do I need to call security?”

Peter murmured to himself as he started to turn away, stopping when he saw the receptionist’s face finally change from bored to shocked. Not a second later, he felt a steady hand clap his shoulder. He instinctively looked behind him, only to see Tony, sporting a pair of sunglasses and a suit. 

“That won’t be necessary, Miss…” Tony checked the nametag of the receptionist before continuing to speak, “Debbie. Peter here just got a little lost. He’s a high school intern, who I still need to issue an ID to.” 

“I’m so sorry Mr. Stark--” Tony cut her off with a raised hand.

“No need to apologize, I’m glad you’re doing your job well. We’ll be going now.”

Tony led Peter to the elevators, leaving the shocked receptionist blinking to herself. Peter waited until the doors slid shut behind them before he spoke.

“Sorry Tony, I left my suit in the lab, and then my phone ran out of battery on the way here--” Tony cut him off by ruffling his hair as he took his sunglasses off.

“What’s with people and apologizing to me today? FRIDAY let me know when you walked in, I just had to finish some boring meeting before coming down.”

“Oh. Okay, cool.” Peter bounced on his heels awkwardly as the elevator slowed to a stop.

“And,” Tony smirked down at Peter and tapped the sunglasses in his hand when he looked up, “I heard and saw everything through FRIDAY. So if you do have any fan mail, please make sure it gets to my office.”

Peter groaned. He would never live that down. 

v. on a rooftop

Peter swung to the top of a nearby building and sat with his back leaning against the roof entrance, letting out a huge sigh as he finally got to relax. He slid his mask off and closed his eyes to work through the withdrawal of adrenaline as he waited for Tony’s inevitable lecture. Thankfully (or not), he didn’t have to wait too long. It was only a matter of minutes before he heard the Iron Man suit touch down next to him. He heard the faceplate lifting before Tony’s voice cut through the silence. 

“Are you hurt, Pete?” Peter was too tired to try to analyze his mood through his voice. He just shook his head from side to side. 

“FRI, do a scan for me.” He couldn’t hear FRIDAY’s response from where he was sitting, but it must have proved he was okay because Tony just huffed and walked to his side.

“Sorry,” Peter muttered.

“Kid, you can’t just apologize and keep doing the same thing over and over. I told you to not meddle with this… goblin guy. If you’re really sorry you wouldn’t keep going against my direct orders.”

Peter just muttered under his breath as he turned to face away from Tony.

“Hey, we’re having a conversation here, look at me,” he ordered.

“Are we?” Peter swung his head back to face Tony, feeling some of his exhaustion fall away at the prospect of an argument, “because it seems pretty one-sided to me.”

“No, you don’t get to do that,” Tony pointed his finger accusingly, “you could have been hurt, you could have died today Peter, are you willing to face that? What would have happened if I hadn’t shown up?”

“I would have been fine,” Peter said, stumbling as he stood up. Despite himself, Tony automatically started to move to help steady him before he was waved off, “I can handle myself.”

“I wish I believed that.”

“I wish you did, too.”

Tony broke eye contact first, stepping back and rubbing his face as he sighed. 

“Kid, you remind me too much of myself, which just makes me end up feeling like my dad. You have to listen to me when I tell you to do something. I do, in fact, have a reason behind what I say to you. If you died out there, I’d--”

“You’d what,” Peter interrupted, his temper rising, “you’d feel sad? You’d be guilty? You know what’d I feel if I died? Nothing. At all. So stop trying to guilt-trip me--”

“Guilt-trip? That’s not what’s happening here. Jesus kid, I’m just trying to say that you have people who care about you, and you need to take care of yourself.”

“Yeah well people caring about me won’t stop me from doing the right thing. He would have killed plenty of innocent civilians who also had people that cared about them if I hadn’t stopped him.”

“Listen, I know you think you know what’s best for you and what’s best for the world, but you’re 16, you have no clue what the world can do to a person.”

“I have no clue what the world can do to a person?” Peter was definitely angry now. His filter completely gone, he continued, “My parents died when I was six. I was there to see my uncle die. Aunt May and I were barely living paycheck to paycheck before I met you. My first girlfriend’s dad tried to kill me. Next time try taking the silver spoon out of your mouth before you try to talk to me about knowing what the world can do to a person, Tony.”

The name shot out like a bullet covered in ice. Peter’s shoulders were still shaking with his heavy, angry breaths. He looked up to see Tony’s face passively blank, the same way it looked when Peter asked about his black eye on the way back from Germany. He instantly felt a wave of guilt. 

“Look, I’m sorry--” Tony silently raised a hand, cutting him off. 

“I know you’ve gone through a lot, Peter. I’m willing to ignore that outburst. I also know that you feel like you need to save the whole world, but you can’t. No matter how good of a hero you are, there’s always going to be people you can’t save.”

Peter looked to his feet as Tony let his final statement float in the air for a beat.

“That’s why I put you on the bench sometimes. You have to let the people who have already lost fight the battles where they’re going to lose more. You’re still young, and you have to let us protect you. Me, your aunt, Rhodey, even Happy. We all want the best for you, kid. You’re going to be the best of us. We want to make sure you stay safe for long enough so we have someone to pass the torch to.” A beat passed before Peter nodded and put his mask back on.

“I think I’m just gonna go back home now.”

“I can handle that,” Tony said cooly. Peter walked to the edge of the roof, about to jump off, when he looked back over his shoulder.

“Tony?” he heard the clink of the faceplate moving back into place before he saw Tony turn around. They looked at each other across the roof for a beat, through the safety of their masks, before Peter continued. 

“Thank you.”

vi. in the lab (again) 

It was just an average weekend. That is to say, an average weekend for someone who was bitten by a radioactive spider and then taken under the wing of the local billionaire/superhero. Peter and Tony were tinkering in the lab together on Peter’s Mark III suit. The sun was just starting to dip under the horizon, momentarily painting the whole room pink. 

“I don’t know if I want the instant-kill mode anymore,” Peter said hesitantly. He looked over to see Tony’s hard stare focused on FRIDAY’s hologram of the suit between them. 

“Non-negotiable. You don’t have to use it, but I’ll sleep better knowing you have it.” Peter looked away, suddenly wanting to change the subject. 

“What about the web-shooters? Do you still think I need all 576 combinations?” His attempt to lighten the mood worked and Tony looked over at him with a smirk.

“Have you tried all of them yet?”

“Well,” Peter looked to the side as he tried to remember, “I think I’ve used at least 6 different ones.”

“We can keep them until you’ve tried them all, then.” Peter coughed something that sounds suspiciously like “helicopter mom” and Tony jokingly tapped his fist against his shoulder. 

“You still like the red and blue?” Tony asked, “I tried adding different colors in different marks of the Iron Man suits, it keeps things fresh.” Peter screwed his face up in concentration, or maybe in disgust at remembering the Mark XXVII’s color scheme. 

“I want people to be able to recognize me still. So let’s stick with the same general design.” Tony nodded his head as he typed something into the projected keyboard in front of him and the phrase “similar design” showed up on a growing list of points next to the suit’s hologram. 

“How’s your… stickiness working? Is the suit getting in the way?” Peter sighed in frustration.

“I wish I knew how it worked so we could figure out how to help it, but the suit doesn’t bother it. As long as I don’t think about it too hard I can stick to anything.”

“Next week let’s experiment with the ‘anything’ part,” Tony said as he pushed away from the desk they were sharing. He tapped Peter’s shoulder as he walked behind him, “Be right back, coffee break.” 

Peter nodded, his focus on the suit. His brain was going a mile a minute trying to figure out what to improve. He remembered that his phone’s touchscreen couldn’t register his fingers in the suit, and they could easily put conductive material in the gloves to solve it. He turned around to get Tony’s attention.

“Hey, Ben--” and he instantly closed his mouth.

Time froze. Tony turned at the noise, and they both stared at each other like two deer in headlights. The amicable silence in the lab turned oppressive. Peter could pinpoint the exact moment when Tony remembered that Ben was the name of his late uncle by how his eyes went from squinting in confusion to wide in shock. They were both somehow blushing and pale as a sheet at the same time, seemingly stuck in that position for hours. Peter tried to think of the best excuse to leave the lab as soon as he could. 

“I forgot something in my bedroom,” Peter said, starting time back up again. He quickly skittered to the lab door.

“Wait,” he felt himself stop at Tony’s words, even though he wanted nothing more than to escape this situation, “as much as we both would much rather ignore what just happened, let’s… talk about this.” At least Peter wasn’t alone in his agony. He slowly turned around to face the awkward conversation head-on. They both stood in silence before Peter finally spoke.

“I’m sorry Mr. Stark, it’s just--”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Tony said, setting his coffee mug down on the counter, “you don’t need to apologize. I’m telling you right now that I’m not offended or upset with you at all about this. I just think we should talk about why it happened.” Peter sighed and ran a hand nervously through his hair as Tony looked anywhere but his face.

“Well… you know how my parents and uncle are dead?” Peter looked over to see Tony’s eyes snap to his as a mix of confusion, sadness, and sympathy. He chuckled a little at the sight before continuing, “sorry, that was a little harsh. But they are. Dead, that is.”

Tony’s face didn’t improve. Peter had to psych himself up a little bit more and took another breath to compose his thoughts. 

“Wow, I am just saying… words. But, um, yeah. I called my dad ‘Dad’ because he was my dad. Obviously,” Jesus Parker, get it together, “and then Ben was like a dad to me in so many ways, but I called him by his first name because ‘Dad’ was already taken, you know?” Realization was starting to dawn on Tony’s face.

“Kid…” Peter waved him off and continued, looking pointedly at the ground, trying to ignore the shameful pricks in the corners of his eyes.

 “And then you came in, and you do so many things that remind me of them, Mr. Stark,” Peter paused, tears starting to pool up in his eyelids. He forced himself to look at Tony, “so many things. And I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, I just latch onto people in my life, and I don’t let them go. Even for a moment. And I’m projecting this idea of all the expectations of people I’ve lost in my past onto you, and that’s not healthy for me because I’ll just be disappointed when it turns out you--” 

Peter’s emotions were coming out of him like air rushing out of a balloon. It’s like calling Tony by his uncle’s name took the cork off a bottle that was now pouring all of its contents down the sink. He couldn’t stop talking now, even if he wanted to. He tried to hide his shaky breaths with a sigh, and Tony looked at him sadly, knowing to let him finish before speaking.

“And I just-- hm. I called Ben by his first name because I couldn’t call him dad. And I called you Ben because I’m just--” he cut himself off as his voice filled with more emotion, and started to pace anxiously around the lab, “--I see you as a father figure, okay? Ben was my father figure for over half my life and calling you by your first name when I already see you in the same light just made my wires get crossed. It’s not the end of the world or anything. It shouldn’t have to be this big secret. I’m an orphan one and a half times over, and you’re-- You’re a superhero, my honest-to-God childhood hero, and you take care of me in so many ways. You make me do my homework, you yell at me when I get myself hurt, we watch movies together, you ruffle my hair and call me kid, am I supposed to just treat you the same as any other adult in my life? 

“I know that’s a lot of pressure for you, and I know that we’re both shitty with talking about our feelings but this has just been festering inside of me, and every time I call you Tony I just think of Ben, and I--” a sob, this time not hidden at all as he sat down on a nearby bench, “--I miss him so much, Mr. Stark. Every day. I’m never going to get over that. And I called him by his first name. So I can’t call you by your first name, and I’m never going to call you Dad, and I’m sorry. I just-- They’re taken. And now calling someone by their last name will just make me think of you and I’m just so screwed up that I can’t--”

Peter sobbed again, dropping his head into his hands. He kept starting meaningless syllables and cutting himself off with heavy, ragged breaths. Tony quickly went over and sat next to him. He cautiously placed a hand on his back, trying to move it in circles like he remembered Rhodey doing to him when he found out his parents passed away. Peter’s breath slowly became more even as he gathered himself. Tony decided this would be a good time to say his piece. 

“Okay, first of all, I want to make sure you are absolutely certain that I am not going anywhere. You’re going to have to put up with me for a very long time.” Peter smiled softly through his tear-stained face at that, which Tony counted as a win as he continued. 

“Kid, I know I don’t say it a lot but I do care about you,” Tony hoped he didn’t notice the waver in his paper-thin voice, “I do love you, Peter. In a very paternal way. Don’t ever be ashamed of seeing me as a father figure, because I suppose I see you as a… son figure.” Tony took a second to rub his eyes and steady his breath. He looked over to see Peter’s face red and puffy, but full of adoration, and warmth, and just pure love. Tony swore he felt ten years get added to his lifespan instantly. He wanted to take a picture and tie it to the end of his suit as he flew above the city, showing off to the whole world what love looks like. 

“But you have to let me know when you’re hurting, Pete,” he continued, making sure Peter was looking at him still, “you have to. Especially if I’m the cause of it. I don’t care if I’m about to accept the Nobel Peace Prize and the last time we talked was an argument where you said you hated me. If you need help, I will be there in the blink of an eye. You just have to tell me. Tell me what is going wrong so I can fix it. It’s what I do. 

“And as for what you call me, Mr. Stark is perfect. I thought I-- well. It used to remind me of my father, but now it’ll just remind me of you.” He finished his small speech with a smile directed at Peter, his eyes wet but sparkling with love as he looked at his kid. 

They sat like that for a few minutes. Just basking in the warmth of their shared love as the pink light of the sunset faded and FRIDAY turned on the overhead lighting. Tony eventually decided to break the silence. 

“All those emotions certainly tired me out,” Tony joked, getting a grin from Peter in return, “You ready for bed, Pete?” 

“I’m ready to lay in my bed on my phone for a few hours before actually falling asleep if that’s what you mean.” Tony rolled his eyes and chuckled.

“Okay whippersnapper, I’ll never understand your generation.” 

Tony opened the lab door and led them both out into the hallway. They walked to the bedroom wing without saying anything, the comfortable silence they had in the lab still covering them like a warm blanket. They stopped outside Peter’s bedroom as usual. 

“Don’t let the bedbugs bite, Underoos,” Tony said as he turned to go to his bedroom.

“I love you, Mr. Stark,” Peter blurted out, causing Tony to turn around, “I didn’t say it earlier. But I do.”

Peter was biting his lip nervously as Tony felt his heart beat a little quicker. He smiled warmly at Peter, more genuine than he had smiled in a long time. 

“Oh, come on over here, kid. I think we’re there.” 

Tony opened his arms and Peter practically ran into him. 

“Watch the spider-strength,” He grunted as Peter laughed and tucked his face into Tony’s chest. His nose was just barely brushing against the metal border of his arc reactor. The blue light made Peter’s hair look like a painting. 

Standing there, with Peter’s arms wrapped around him, Tony knew that he would do anything in his power to make sure he stayed safe and happy. He felt a fierce fire deep in his chest that almost dared the world to send something at him, just to let him have something to prove his strength to. He felt like he could take down an entire army. Like he could climb to the top of Mount Everest without even breaking a sweat. 

But instead, he just wrapped his arms around Peter and took a deep breath, committing this feeling to memory. 

“I love you too, kid.”

Tag List: @ironfamjam

[iscariotsdeputy]

“Were you— were you seriously asking EDITH for homework help? A multibillion-dollar tactical AI and you’re using it like Siri? This is exactly why I didn’t think you were mature enough for this. And before you ask — no, I’m not helping you, either. Google exists, ask it instead.” Quentin has better things to do than be a search engine — though apparently he’s free to watch and listen in on Staci. Turns out you have a lot of free time when you don’t technically have needs.

    “Okay, yeah, I can agree this looks very bad. This looks pretty bad, the whole “I’m using EDITH for homework help” thing. But...” Staci pointed at the glasses on his face, trying to pass by his behavior with an innocent grin. “I’m being responsible about it! It’s not like I’m asking her for the answer to every question. I just wanted the molecular mass of trisodium diphosphate for this question on my chem homework. It’s not really hard per se, it’s just super menial stuff to have to calculate.”

    Setting down his calculator on the table and resting his chin on his palm, he blinked a few times when he looked up at Quentin. “Can I ask you a very reasonable question? Who pissed in your bitcoin cereal this morning? EDITH has one of the largest databases I’ve ever seen, and I think it’s only proper to use her to her full capabilities! Full capabilities, meaning, besides massive drone strikes on innocent people, Beck.”

[transhumanitynet]

The Future You That You Least Suspect

The other night my teenage boys asked me what was on my mind (likely looking for material to make fun of me. Just kidding, they’re thoughtful kids).

Instead of trying to “kid proof” my thoughts or rush the conversation, I wrote them this letter. First, to explain that I’m consumed by how we think about and where we look for answers to the biggest questions of our time (listed below), and second, to propose an alternative way of finding answers (hint: I found inspiration in an amoeba).

How are we going to address climate change before it creates global chaos?

What jobs will be available for my kids when they finish school? What should they study?

Over the next few decades, how will we re-train ourselves fast enough — again and again — to remain employed and useful as technology becomes more capable?

Can the human race cooperate well enough to solve our biggest problems or will the future simply overwhelm us?

Most importantly, where do we look to find answers to these questions?

Hopefully I didn’t ruin the possibility that my kids will ever again ask me what’s on my mind 🙂

##

Boys,

There is an old joke where a man is looking for his keys under a street light. Another person walks by and inquires, “Sir, are you certain you lost your keys here?”

“No” the man replies, “I lost them across the street.”

Confused, the stranger says, “Then why are you looking here?”

The man responded, “The light is much brighter here!”

Credit

This comic is as humorous as it is true. All too often, we each do this when we’re trying to solve something. It’s where our brains naturally take us first.

Our imaginations are constrained to the familiar (under the light), so we have a hard time finding answers to difficult questions and problems because the answers often lie in the unknown (or in the comic above, the darkness). Staying in the light is natural, easy, and intuitive, but this limits our discovery potential.

I. How to look in the dark?

History can give us some hints about how others found interesting things in the dark. For example, we discovered that:

the sun is the center of our planetary swarm

the earth is round

the physical world is a bunch of tiny, uncertain pieces governed by quantum physics

Before these became accepted truths, they were very difficult to imagine. This is part because they are non-obvious and also counter-intuitive to our everyday experience.

It’s also because we can’t know what is not known, which means we’re blind to what is yet to be discovered. Don’t believe me? Try to think of something you don’t already know. It’s impossible! That is, until you know it, and then it’s obvious.

Going back to the 5th question, how and where can we look today to find new unknowns (the dark) that help us solve our biggest problems? Where are today’s insights that are equivalent to the sun is the center of our planetary swarm?

I think the most exciting and consequential place to explore is not looking outside ourselves, but looking inside; in our own minds. This is where I see the most fruitful answers to the questions about your future and mine.

What if the next reality busting revolution happened to our very reality and consciousness? And if that happened, could the future of being human be entirely unrecognizable from our vantage point today? I hope so, because the answers to our challenges don’t appear under the lights we have turned on so far.

You’re probably thinking, c’mon Dad, this is crazy talk.

Well, it’s happened before.

II. Thanks Homo Erectus, We’ll Take it From Here

Our ancestor Homo erectus lived two million years ago and wasn’t equipped with our kinds of languages, abstractions, or technology. Homo erectus was possibly an inflexible learner as evidenced by the fact that they made the same axe for over 1 million years.

Imagine trying to explain to Homo erectus a complex phenomena of our modern day society, such as the stock market. You’d have to explain capitalism, economics, math, money, computers, and corporations — after extensive language training and the inevitable discussion of new axe design possibilities (of course, trying not to offend).

The supporting technological, cultural, and legal layers that enable the stock market to exist are the engines and evidence of our prosperity. It’s taken us thousands of years to develop this collective intellectual complexity. The point is, our brains are incredibly capable of evolving and adapting to new and more complicated things.

That our cognition evolved from Homo erectus demonstrates that we have radically evolved before.

III. Amoeba, You’re So Smart!

A few months ago, Japanese researchers demonstrated that an amoeba, a single-celled organism, was able to find near optimal solutions to the following question:

Given a list of cities and the distances between each pair of cities, what is the shortest possible route a salesperson could take that visits each city only once and returns to the origin city? (image credit)

This is known as the Traveling Salesman Problem (TSP), and classified as an NP-hard problem because the time needed to solve it grows exponentially as the number of cities increases.

Humans can come up with near optimal solutions using various heuristics and computers can execute algorithms to solve the problem using their processing power.

However, what’s unique is that Masashi Aono and his team demonstrated that the amoeba’s solution to the TSP is completely different than the way humans or computers have traditionally solved it.

That’s right, this amoeba is flexing on us.

(Note: it’s worth reading about the clever way they set up the experiment to allow the amoeba to solve the problem.)

This got me thinking: when we’re confronted with a problem, we use the tools at our disposal. For example, we can think, do math, or program a computer to solve it.

Professor Aono found a different tool for problem solving: a single-celled organism.

I know what you’re thinking, can the amoeba do my homework or take tests for me? It’s a good question!

Also, kudos to Aono and his team for searching in the dark — this experiment is non-obvious.

IV. Why Am I Telling You About Amoebas?

I strongly believe that we need a major cognitive revolution if we are to solve the global challenges we face. Our species evolved before and we can do it again, but we can’t wait a million years; we must accelerate this evolution.

What I’m saying is very hard to understand and imagine, because it’s in the dark. But bare with me.

The amoeba gives me hope because it didn’t evolve to solve the TSP. We augmented it with technology to accomplish something pretty amazing. Similarly, we haven’t evolved to deal with cooperating on a global scale, battle an invisible gas that warms our planet or retraining our brains every few years as AI takes over more of our work. How can we augment our own minds to allow us to take on these challenges?

Imagine a scenario where you are dressed head-to-toe in haptics (think Ready Player One) that allow you to experience and understand things by feeling changes in vibrations, temperature, and pressure.

Also imagine that you have a brain interface capable of both reading out neural activity and “writing” to your brain — meaning that certain communications can be sent directly into to your brain — the kind of stuff I’m building at Kernel.

Let’s call this a mind/body/machine interface (MBMI). It would basically wire you up to be like the amoeba in the experiment.

Now, what if you were given certain problems, such as the TSP, that your conscious and subconscious mind started working to solve? Imagine that instead of “thinking” about the problem, you just let your brain figure things out on it’s own — like riding a bike.

Would you come up with novel solutions not previously identified by any other person, computer or amoeba?

If we actually had the technology to reimagine how our brains work, over time, I bet that we’d get really good at it and be surprised with all the new things we can do and come up with. To be clear, this is not just “getting smarter” by today’s standards, this is about using our brains in entirely new ways.

Maybe that means that your school today would be in the museum of the future.

People would likely use these MBMIs to invent and discover, solve disagreements, create new art and music, learn new skills, improve themselves in surprising ways and dozens of other things we can’t imagine now.

When thinking about the possibilities, hundreds of questions come to my mind. For example, could we:

minimize many of our less desirable proclivities, individually and collectively?

become more wise as a species?

come up with original solutions to climate change and other pressing problems?

accelerate the speed someone learns (i.e. you get a new kind of PhD at age 12 versus the average of 31 today)

I wonder, is this what you will do at your job in 20 years? Would your mind change so much that it would be hard to recognize your 15 year old self?

Ultimately, for our own survival, we are in a race against time. We need to identify the problems that pose the greatest risks and respond fast enough so that we avoid a zombie apocalypse situation. The most important variable to avoid that: we need to be able to adapt fast enough.

I’m sure at this moment you’re thinking, woah, Dad, calm down!!

V. Your New Job — Being Really Weird (in a good way)

You’re right in wondering what jobs computers will take — if not all of them. They’ll do the boring things that adults do to make money, except far better and for far less money. But imagine a scenario where AI relieves you of 75% of your current day-to-day responsibilities, and is much better at doing those things than you. (I imagined what this world could look like)

A lot has been written, even movies made, about this scenario (e.g.Wall-E). If this happened, would you play fully immersive video games all day? Or live a life of pleasure and be work-free? Certainly possible, although those are linear extrapolations of what we are familiar with today — meaning that’s simply taking what we know today and mapping it into the future. The same thing as looking in the light.

What if millions or even billions of people could build careers by exploring new frontiers of reality and consciousness powered by MBMIs? These types of “weird” thought exercises may be breadcrumbs that extend the considerations we’re willing to make when thinking about our collective cognitive future.

These may be the starter tools that empower us to become Old Worldexplorers setting out for the New World, and journeying on the most exciting and consequential endeavor in human history — an expedition, inward, to discover ourselves.

Dad

  orginally posted here:

https://medium.com/future-literacy/the-future-you-that-you-least-suspect-18cf63bd0061 

The Future You That You Least Suspect was originally published on transhumanity.net

[ryanssecurityengineering]

Week 7 Notes and Reflection

REFLECTION

Unfortunately I ran out of battery and lost the lectures notes for the second lecture. I had to reconstruct them using the class notes, Richard’s “slides” and what I remember. I’ll especially have to research more about Public Key Infrastructure later, it seems interesting!

Interesting lecture, I like how we found a mistake on the exam! I also liked the way Richard described Man in the middle attacks in Diffie-Hellman. There were lots of “homework” activities so I should do those! 

I thought it was pretty insane you can write to memory using %n in printf! I wonder what the designers of printf were thinking?! They were like “o ye lets scan in some stuff using our printing function!!” 

The extended lectures were cool - I found it weird that pressing that Command + S key on a Mac gives you root. There are so many interesting practical things with security... bug bounties, CTFs that you don’t really see in other areas of computing such as AI. 

NOTES

Mid Term Exam

Question 5 Solution - Can’t brute force it by hand. The answer is F - type I /Type II error tradeoff. 

Question 10 - The answer is D - easy to factorise a 64 bit number. Even 512 bit modulus is crackable. However even RSA is wrong for some reason.... All wrong!! 

Proof of liveness - Like a replay attack, challenge response. Proof that there is someone there. 

Richard expects you to go to all the lectures. Should have known Sun Tzu!

Diffie-Hellman - How do you set that shared secret up? 

5^3^7 is the same as 5^7^3. Power raising is associative. 

R -> 78125 -> S S-> 125 -> R

We don’t know R or S private key. Only the number they raised (5). Very difficult to solve the discrete log problem, to go backward to the private key. 

When both sides receive their key, they both raise the value by their private key. Both becomes the same. 

Forward Secrecy - protects the future messages.

Syria Castle - Defence in depth. The castle fell when the sieiging people forged a letter telling the castle people to surrender. Didn’t fall due to the defence of the castle.

CYBER LITERACY - VULNERABILITIES

A vulnerability is a weakness, and an exploit something that takes advantage of that.

Bug - software mistake. Sometimes bugs become vulnerability. 

Types

Memory corruption - somehow the bad guy can change something in memory to allow the program to be under the control of the bad guy.

Buffer overflow 

Stack and heap  - FIFO temporary info about the functions are on the stack. Heap for allocated memory - dynamic memory allocation. 

How functions are called in C - when control switches to another function, the function is frozen. Temporary info such as registers stored on stack. COMP1521 stuff.

Integer overflow - If you keep adding, it will go negative. This can cause it to maybe pass some tests. 

Format String - Like Bird flu - Everyone has written buffer overflow bad code in the old days! Then people started patching it. Apparently they are coming back. C has crazy way of printing stuff using printf(). In the old days when you wanted to print hello world had to use printf(”%s\n”, “Hello World”). However no ever did that. Everyone just writes printf(”Hello World\n”). However someone might write name <- get user name. Then you want to print the name you write printf(name). E.g. my name is “%s Richard Buckland”. It will try and look lower down in the stack and print that out as the argument. %s will print out the contents of the stack until a null character. You can use %x to print out the next byte and print out hexadecimal versions of the stack. Printf(”%x %x %x %x”). Shows entire contents of stack. Could have passwords, return addresses. %n WRITES TO MEMORY. You can do arbitrary writes to memory. 

Swiss Cheese - holes might line up! Holes overlapping and poke finger through. These sort of bugs are like that! Get lucky. 

Stack Canary? Research that. 

Shell Code - if you attacking a system, how nice it would be to get a private shell to come up and do whatever you want? Write some machine code that calls OS functions that makes shell pop up. This code is shell code. Put shell code into a buffer and run it.

Nop sleds - You can use buffer overflows to jump back to your buffer to run programs. However sometimes don’t know where in memory where the code is placed. Nice to have a bit of wiggle room. Just put lots of NOP operations - it will be like a slide into your code. Looking for NOP sleds - malware scanners. However whole lots of way to write NOP sleds without NOP.

If you find vulnerabilities, into will go into the National Vulnerability Database and CVN (Common Vulnerabilities and Exposures) and CNA (CVE Naming Authority). 

Responsible disclosure - If you find a vulnerability, tell the vendor then CERT(eg CERT Australia). or you can sell it to the bad guys!

OWASP Top 10 list should know for top 10 vulnerabilities. Essentially the same every year!

BUG PUZZLES - Check slides

Example 1 - Integer overflow for the length. Get_user_length is UNSIGNED, but length is signed.  Lots of implicit conversions between sign and unsigned. Then read will read the overflowed length value since read() takes in an unsigned length value, which might be bigger than 1024.

Example 2-  Optimistic indenting 

ASSETS

Security is to protect your assets. Sometimes we protect the wrong assets. Cold war - I wonder if the world will be here tomorrow?  The most important asset is to protect mankind. 

Door bell on the car - If you placed that in the car it went ding dong in his house. $5 car alarm first step into brilliance. What are you going to do when the ding dong happens? Might run down there and get killed!! The real asset is the window of the car, not the money! Leave the window open! Got wallet stolen, but got AIDS. Easy to protect the wrong thing. 

At the uni’s security review was all machines. Uni assets are students, reputation, user data, staff. The trick is, what you should do is the assets - what are you trying to protect? Ask people - junior, senior people. Review the list of assets every year/month. Real weakness is something you don’t see - blind spot. Try and find the things you haven’t seen. 

Strategies for Identifying the Assets

Regularly surveying the values of people of the involved in what you are protecting. Multiple pairs of eyes is a good asset.

Develop a sensible plan - well designed to tease this information out of them. Humans are generally poor at regurgitating everything they know, however they are generally very good critics.

Periodically revise current list of assets. Don't set and forget. Values and assets of an organisation can drift.

Examples

Team America

Richard's wallet vs Richard with AIDS

Car doorbell

Leave windows open?

Share registry - no more paper trails, everything is recorded electronically. Land title database was privatised. What are the risks?

Coke formula

Parliament - a collection of people that hold particular importance together.

Valuing the Assets - Defining what is important

Categorising types of assets

Tangible Assets: Those that are easily given a value

A gold chain valued at some relatively static amount

The jewellery in a jewellery store.

Intangible Assets: These cannot be easily and objectively be valued

Company secrets

Availability of services

Employee Morale & Security

Customer information

* Monetary + psychological/emotional costs

* Difficult <> Don't do

Examples:

Company secret - what is at stake?

QOS Guarantees

Strategies for assigning values to assets

Survey what many people think

no single person or group should be solely evaluating the assets&semi;

Examples of the information that should be gathered are as follows:

"How much money would you lose where this data center to go down for 24 hours?".

"How much will you lose if your company is disconnected to the internet for 3 hours?".

Examples

In assessing the value of a park

Picasso

Diffie-Hellman - Only provides confidentiality and integrity? Does not provide authentication. 

Web of Trust (PgP) - Research this

Public Key Infrastructure (PKI)

SSL/TLS

Read Bruce Schneier's paper https://www.schneier.com/academic/paperfiles/paper-pki.pdf

passports (links photo with name, certified by office)

x509 certificates (links public key with domain (and maybe some other info))

padlock in your browser

look at some certs

CAs, root certificates, RAs, pay money to browser manufacturer??!! (check out your web browser)

conflicts of interest

most google search pages on SSL written by vendors

it was the blockchain of the 2000s

self signed, domain verification, organisational verification, extended verification.  (ha!)

what if anything are the risks of self-signed?

safety vs identity

the green bar

session keys - the TLS handshake (4 keys)

why use session keys rather than using RSA for all?

wildcards

3 main certificate authorities: Symantec, Comodo, GoDaddy

homework : find examples of (serious) fraudulant certificates being issued

Certificates don’t protect against gooooogle.com

TLS handshake example

BUG BOUNTIES (From notes, I lost mine)

Crowd-Sourced Bug Bounty Websites

Public: Hackerone, bugcrowd

Private: Synack

Often have criteria of whats in/out of scope, as well as what kind of bugs they won’t accept. For example websites that they don’t want you touch

Tips

Learn web apps

Usea a wide scope → bigger net = more bugs

Look for software updates, or assets that have recently changed

Look for publicly disclosed reports → Can see prior bugs that have been found/exposed. If a bug has occurred once, theres a chance it will occur again

Pentesting  (From notes, I lost mine)

Fuzzing

Automate process - a program that continually adds input

Some fuzzers are aware of input structure, and some even are away of program structure

Fuzzers aren't precise, but can test a large amount of inputs

Fuzzing software - afl (the way to go apparently)

Mutation strategies - bit flips, byte flips, arithmetic, havoc (combination

Use fuzzing to test your own software

Homework: Do the fuzzing tutorial