old circuit

Touch Starved Tony

This is the first draft, I might so a full rewrite of it eventually and post it on AO3, but for now have some Ironhawk fluffiness.

Tony Stark was a genius practically from birth, put in the spotlight by both association and skill. Nobody was surprised when the rich boy started sleeping around with college kids years older than he was.

Tony remembers being 4 years old, circuit board grasped in tiny fingers. He remembers his father’s arm around his shoulder.

He remembers being 6 an engine on the counter, and his father’s hand on his shoulder, a smile on his face. He remembers Jarvis, and a lot of hugs.

Then he remembers boarding school. Remembers kids’ years older than him who only ever reached out to remind him that he was weakest among them. He remembers teachers who sneered when he corrected them.

He remembers Christmas break and the first hug he’d had in months. He remembers every Christmas break after that and the warmth of Jarvis arms.

He remembers Obie’s hand on his shoulder the day his parents died. He remembers thinking that he would never get a hug from Jarvis again.

He remembers having sex for the first time, he didn’t know her name, heck he barely knew his own name. But he remembered the feel of her skin against his.

He remembers the day he realized people only touched him when they wanted something. With women it was either sex or money, with Obie it was new weapons, and more professional behavior. He remembers realizing that he didn’t particularly care what they wanted if he got even a second of contact.

He remembers the day he realized that Rhodey didn’t hug him with intent. He remembers the day Rhodey shipped out for the first time.

He remembers a string of one night stands and the feeling of flesh on flesh. The feeling of warmth.

He remembers the day he returned from Afghanistan and realized that with the open vulnerability sitting in his chest sex wasn’t an option anymore.

He remembers dancing with Pepper. Remembers holding her in his arms. He remembers letting her go when she asked him to.

He remembers killing Obie, remembers knowing the man had tried to kill him. He remembers mourning the side hugs, and encouraging pats on the shoulder.

He remembers the day the Avengers agreed to move in.

“Jarvis, Jarvis, are all of their rooms ready? The passive surveillance is all set up so they don’t get uncomfortable? And Steve’s is all retro? Natasha has the memory foam bed right? She said she liked memory foam. Do you think they’ll like it?” Tony babbles, he hasn’t slept in three days, ever since they agreed to move in. He had to get everything ready.

“Of course, Sir. All of that has been completed. I am sure they will love it.” Jarvis assures him. Tony nods, trying to settle, hands flying up to fix the mess his hair has become. “Good, good, do I need to shave? I should shave.” He heads for the elevator, fingers tracing over the messy ages of his beard.

“Sir, this is not a date I do not believe shaving is necessary.” Jarvis cuts in, halting Tony on his path to the elevator. “Also, your guests are here.”

“They’re here! Jarvis why didn’t you tell me? Take me down to the lobby to get them.” He spends the elevator ride trying to fix his hair, it doesn’t seem to have done much good.

“Hello Mr. Stark, thank you for inviting us.” Steve says, hefting his duffle bag up on his shoulder.

“It’s no problem, and please Cap, call me Tony.” He says, gesturing for them to board the elevator.

“Still, nice of you to open your home to us.” Natasha says, smiling at him. Her eyes are searching though. Most likely for a motive.

“It’s not just my home now, it’s yours too.” He says, shrugging. Natasha elbows Clint in the least subtle way possible, and Tony watches, mildly impressed as he manages to keep hold of his boxes.

“Oh yeah, thanks dude.” Clint says, peeking out from behind a stack of boxes with Natasha’s careful script on them. “Okay, Natasha, you’re on floor 74. Clint you get 75, they do connect at multiple points and you can feel free to share space.” Tony says, hitting the necessary buttons and gesturing to the eye scanner. “Steve, you’re on 76, and I’m saving 77 for your friend.”

“Tony, we don’t need whole floors.” Steve protests. Looking at his duffle bag Tony suspects that is true, he’ll need to buy the man some clothes and things.

“Speak for yourself Rogers.” Clint says, elbowing the super soldier in the side. It probably hurt his elbow more than it did Steve, but it gets his point across. Tony elects to ignore both of them.

“Brucie-bear, you have 78, although the hulk room expands into 79. I put your lab on your floor because I figured it would be more comfortable.

“Thor gets 79, since he’ll be here the least he shouldn’t mind the loss of space. Common areas are on floor 80, and the penthouse is obviously mine. 81 through 84 are set up for Sam Wilson, guests, more guests, and Rhodey respectively.” Tony explains. “If you need anything from Jarvis you will have to enter the elevator or a common area, as I have set your rooms to passive surveillance only to avoid any discomfort you may feel.” The elevator stops and the doors slide open to reveal Natasha’s floor.

“No Jarvis beyond this point, but there is a top of the line security system so please try not to break any windows.” Tony says, stepping aside, Clint gets off the elevator while Natasha picks up her own stack of boxes and follows him.

It takes an hour to get everyone settled in. Steve thanks him profusely, and talks about how his floor is too much. Bruce thanks him quietly and disappears into his rooms. Natasha calls him kitten in Russian and smiles at him before disappearing into her rooms with a comment about dress shopping.

“Stark!” Clint is bouncing on the balls of his feet when Tony knocks on his door to check on him. “Stark! You built me an archery range on my floor? You are the absolute best!” For a moment, it looks like he’s going to hug him, and then there’s a warm weight of Clint’s hand on his shoulder for half a second. “God, I am never leaving this tower.”

“Glad you like it.” Tony says, trying to ignore how warm his shoulder feels. Trying to ignore how his heart is beating against his ribs. It’s been almost three months since he’s seen Rhodey, and therefore three months since someone has touched him in a friendly way. It feels better than flying in the suit ever does.

He’s not surprised with the lack of physical contact from the others. They were busy moving in, and he knows they all have their own hang-ups. It’s really not a big deal. He’s working on new armor for Steve now anyways, so maybe he can get a hug or something after.

“Stop kidding yourself Stark.” He grumbles, glaring at his reflection in the mirror. There are dark circles under his eyes, it’s probably time he actually gets some sleep. “They won’t want you. Not a team player, remember? Fucking talking to yourself in the bathroom mirror, no wonder you only have three friends.” He sleeps until well into the next afternoon, and then disappears into his lab.

“Sir, Captain Rogers is asking for you. He says the team wants to do dinner tonight in the common room.” Jarvis informs him.

“They want me to come?” He asks, there’s no one here but Jarvis and still the caution creeps into his voice. He can’t help but hide hope behind an air of nonchalance.  

“Of course, Sir.” Jarvis says. Steve had asked him to tell Tony to come, they clearly wanted him there.

“Tell Cap I’ll be there.” He says, hiding a smile in his work.

He goes to team dinner, and the next one, and training. He tries to live off of awkward brushes of hands, and sharp kicks for practice. He reminds himself that just because they are here, doesn’t mean they’ll like him. They don’t owe him hugs.

Tony was fine, really. Completely, and totally fine.

He finishes the first round of upgrade and eagerly calls them to the lab.

“I made things!” He says, a new quiver clutched in his hands. He’s practically vibrating with excitement, hugs are a relatively normal part of gratitude he could get a hug.

“Is that a quiver?” Clint asks, Tony hits the button on the side there’s a noise as the arrow head is attached. “Shit automated, what a beaut.” Tony blushes, handing it over. Clint snatches up his bow, practically running for the range. No hug. Tony turns to Natasha.

“Upgraded widow bites with stun, knock out, kill, and Thor settings.” He offers, holding them out to her, she grins at him, taking them from his hands.

“Thanks Stark.” She winks at him as she stalks out of the room. “These will be so useful.” She doesn’t hug him on the way out.

“Steve, new body armor. Less ab plating more protection.” He explains, holding up the new and improved suit. “Also, less zippers, that look was so nineties Steve you don’t understand.” Steve smiles at him.

“No, I don’t, but I appreciate the new suit all the same.” He says, Tony beams at him. Steve claps a hand on his shoulder as he leaves. Tony tries to pretend the warmth is enough. Revels in the feeling from that small touch. It’s not enough, maybe if he makes them more gear.

“You look tired Tones, maybe you should get some rest, you can show me Hulk’s gift tomorrow.” Bruce offers, he’s so kind. If Tony looked bad enough he might help him to bed, hold onto him. It would be nice.

“Yeah, I’m going to go to bed.” He mumbles, the pattern continues. Tony remains cold, and untouched.  They fight bad guys, they eat dinner, and nobody hugs Tony.

The suit was gone, ripped off in the battle. He was beaten up, a little bloody but still standing when the witch landed in front of him, lobbing a ball of what he presumed was magic at his chest.

“Let’s see how the world likes you when your deepest desires spill from your lips. How will they feel knowing how perverted you are?” They asked, Tony’s jaw ticks as he clenches it shut. The witch disappears.

“Your darkest desire, huh Stark?” Clint teases. “Can’t be too bad. Want to sleep with a man? Want to kill someone on the team? Want to kill one of the villains we fight?” Tony’s vibrating with frustration, desperately trying to remain silent.

“Clint, stop.” Natasha scolds. “Your desires aren’t you as a person, no matter how dark we won’t blame you.” She assures him, standing on the rubble strewn street. Tony turns wide eyes to Steve and Bruce.

“We won’t.” They assure him. He relaxes his shoulders slightly, his mouth parting against his will.

“I want a hug. Please, I just, I just want a hug.” He begs, face flushing with embarrassment. It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Tony’s head drops, eyes tearing up. “I understand. I know it’s weak, I’m sorry.”

“A freaking hug is your darkest desire?” Clint blurts out, taking a step towards him. Tony nods miserably. “A goddamn hug? How are you so good?” Tony finds himself wrapped in strong arms a moment later. “A goddamn hug.” Clint grumbles.

“I know it’s weak, and stupid. I’m sorry.” Tony whispers, he knows he should pull back, but he lets himself slump against Clint’s shoulder. Let’s himself be held.

“Shut up. You’re goddamn perfect. Your darkest desire is a hug Tony. That’s so ridiculously pleasant.” Clint grumbles, nuzzling into Tony’s hair.  

“It’s so dumb, you guys don’t owe me anything, I can’t expect hugs. I shouldn’t have. Got my hopes up, cause I’m dumb.” Tony mumbles, hands clenched in the back of Clint’s shirt. “You can let go now, I won’t be a bother.”

“Nope, we’re going back to the tower, and cuddling.” He’s surprised the others haven’t gotten over their shock and come to join the hug yet. “God, how did I not know you wanted hugs, I could have offered non-stop cuddles.” Clint laments. Natasha seems to have gotten over her shock, and she practically sprints over, leaping at them. Tony flinches just before she makes contact wrapping them both in a hug.

“Do not be afraid.” She grumbles. He doesn’t look at her, face still buried in Clint’s shoulder.

“I shouldn’t have assumed you’d want to hug me. Shouldn’t have asked. Don’t deserve it.” Tony mumbles. “Can’t expect hugs as payment. No buying people’s love.” The words come out like a mantra. She whacks the back of his head.

“You assumed I wouldn’t want to hug you idiot, not that I would. There is no harm in asking.” She scolds. Clint nods, puffing a breath of air into Tony’s hair.

“Didn’t want any of you to feel obligated.” He mumbles. Clint’s grip tightens, and he feels Steve and Bruce joining the fray, a warm line of skin across his shoulders and lower back.

“No, Tony. We don’t feel obligated.” Clint assures him. “Just guilty that we missed out on giving you something you need.”

“Don’t need hugs, I’m fine.” Tony grumbles, but he still hasn’t made any move to pull away.

“Shut up.” Natasha grumbles, Bruce nods in agreement, half asleep from the Hulk out. “You need hugs. Don’t worry, we’re happy to provide.” She steps on Steve’s foot when he doesn’t say anything in agreement.

“Of course, Tony, you’re our teammate, and our friend.” Steve says, pulling back slightly. The hug starts to pull apart then, leaving only Clint with Tony wrapped around him like a koala.

“I should let go now.” Tony mumbles, releasing his grip on Clint’s shirt. Clint frowns, they need to get back to the tower, but how to best do that without letting go, he slides his hand around Tony’s waist, hand resting on his hip.

“This okay?” He asks, squeezing gently. Tony nods with such ferocity Clint worries he’ll get whiplash. “Good, let’s get you home for some more cuddles.” Tony nods agreeably.

“Thanks Clint.” He mumbles. “You’re my favorite.” He’s not sure Clint heard, words buried in the archer’s shoulder. The walk home is warm, pleasant, and absolutely terrifying.

They’re almost to the tower before the panic starts to set in, fears arising that this was all just a show, and that once they get inside he’ll be back to feeling cold and alone in a crowded house. Even if it wasn’t a show, he’s clingy, he knows it. They’ll get sick of him.

“To the couch.” Clint announces, pushing Tony down on the cushions, and lying on top of him. The panic recedes. He’s warm, he’s safe he can enjoy this.

Tony is worried that they’ll get tired of how clingy he is, so he has a plan. He gets one hour with them every day and then he needs to either work or sleep. As long as he leaves the room before they get tired of him. It’s a good plan.

“Tony, won’t you hang out for a movie after breakfast?” Clint asks, sliding an arm around his shoulder. Movies are normally at least 2 hours long, which puts him over the hour limit on snuggle time.

“I’d love to.” He admits, “But, I need to work on the suit.” He leans into Clint’s grasp anyways. “I really should work.”

“Yeah.” Clint says. “You can do that after we watch a movie though, right?” Watching movies and cuddling is normal, so maybe he can do two hours a day, and it will be okay.

“Right.” Tony agrees. “I can do that.” Clint might not even want to cuddle anyways. Which would mean it wouldn’t count as part of his hour, it only counts if there’s cuddling, right?

“Awesome, I could use a couple hours of snuggling.” Clint cheers, dragging Tony into the den. Well, if it’s Clint’s idea then he can’t accuse Tony of being clingy right. “You’re so warm, perfect for snuggling.” Tony nods absently.

“You sure?” Tony asks.


He doesn’t make it back to the lab after the movie, Clint slides in another disc and they stay curled up on the couch for hours. As much as Tony wants to say no, wants to make sure Clint doesn’t get tired of his clinginess, he can’t. He can’t say no, not when Clint’s arms are warm around him. He just holds on, waiting for the touching to die down.

He spends months waiting for Natasha to stop hugging him every time she sees him, or Steve to stop awkwardly hugging him when he makes new things. He waits for Bruce to stop inviting him to yoga, and helping him with positions. He waits for Thor to stop greeting him with tight hugs that lift his feet off the ground. He waits for Clint to stop inviting him to cuddle.

He waits for months until he realizes he’s not waiting anymore. He waits until he realizes they aren’t going anywhere.

@ifdragonscouldtalk and @dont-hurt-tony-stark I know you like these, <3

The Most Important Holtzmann headcanon:

She doesn’t tell anyone about it at first but once they’re all pretty famous Holtzmann uses her new reach to get in touch with local NYC foster care programs, and she starts teaching monthly classes to pretty large bunches of kids at headquarters on Saturday mornings once a month. Sometimes she does Lego robotics with them, sometimes they build potato clocks, in October she helps them all decorate mini ghost traps that they can use “to suck the most candy up on Halloween and be the richest kids on the block.”

One or two supervisors from each program and sometimes a couple of foster parents come each time to keep an eye on the kids but after a couple months they all end up sitting quietly in a corner with their laptops or books and cups of coffee that they ducked out in the middle of the lesson to get, not watching the children at all. Holtzmann is just so good with the 5-12 age group (which is most of the participants that come to class, though sometimes she’ll get stragglers as old as 17 and she’s extra nice to them because she knows how hard it is to age out of care). She has them get up and dance and shake out their arms and stretch at least once every 15 minutes and she makes a fool of herself and laughs with them but here’s the thing, she also treats them like the little adults they are. She treats them like they can learn how to do anything they want because she truly believes they can. And they love her for that.

When Holtzmann shares with the Ghostbusters that she’s been doing this they’re all really surprised and touched but she brings it up like its nothing, she just wanted them to know because hunting is getting pretty active lately, and well, they shouldn’t be worried if on a rare Saturday they get a call and catch her ferrying 10 or 20 children out of the building before she runs upstairs to change.

Erin, with curiosity in her nature, shows up the next month and hides in the back not by the program supervisors, but in her own little nook closest to her friend and all her students, and she watches as Holtzmann squats down in front of a sniffling little girl who is looking down at a tangled mess of wires in dismay and embarrassment.
“Sweetheart, it’s ok,” she soothes with an easy smile as Erin strains to listen, “they’re color coded, so that means blue goes to blue and red goes to red, so yellow goes to…” She trails off and waits until the little girl whispers “yellow” too quiet for Erin to hear.

“That’s right!” Holtzmann celebrates, making perfect eye contact with the small child, and Erin in her corner is falling in love and combusting, oh my god. “Remember what I said last time? The secret to being a genius is always keep trying. You’re smart and you matter.”

She gives the girl’s shoulder a little squeeze as she stands up and moves onto the next table where 12 year olds are helping 7 year olds build circuit boards and 5 year olds are watching 8 year olds and copying what they see, trying to connect the kiddy-proofed special sets they have just for them, that clearly don’t even have electricity ports built in, and it’s just all so amazing to watch.

Erin is speechless. She can see that every single one of these kids trusts Holtzmann. But what she doesn’t know is that Holtz does this because she used to have to do every single project and craft she came up with on her own. There was no one in her series of homes to tell her that she mattered. To tell her she was smart.
So she tells it to every single kid. Every month.

When all the kids leave, after they bop about the room to the Monster Mash with Holtz leading the pack and clean everything up, Holtzmann turns on the now empty floor and her face is filled with a look of relaxation and pride and warmth that Erin has never seen on her friend before. Nothing has ever even come close. And it’s beautiful.

Holtzmann sees Erin after a moment and she just grins, and waves. Erin without explanation or forethought walks up to the blonde, wrappes her up in her arms and kisses her. It’s the first time, but it’s been coming for a while. Both of them just melt into the experience. They’re ecstatic, home at last, and neither of them is fazed.

They break apart after awhile and Erin pulls Holtz in tighter and leans her chin on her shoulder, tilts her mouth up and says into her ear, “you’re smart and you matter, Jillian.” And Holtz stares at the wall and tries to ignore the building tears behind her eyes. Because maybe Erin gets it after all.

ImagineDaily Database: Tony Stark

Originally posted by widowshields


Real Name:  Anthony Edward Stark

Alias: Iron Man.

Citizenship: American.

Date of Birth: May 29, 1970.

Relatives: Howard Stark and Maria Stark. (both died in 1991).

Abilities: Genius level intellect, master engineer, master scientist, hacker, expert businessman, expert tactician, martial artist, marksman, pilot, multilingualism.

Others information:

  • The armors no longer use Stark’s arc reactor as a power source. Instead, the suits each have their own individual arc reactor 
  • Tony had a surgery to remove the sharps in his body, therefore removing his arc reactor off his chest for good. 
  • Tony has post-traumatic stress disorder.
  • Tony chose to pour millions into mental health research, to create a non-invasive non-pharmaceutical therapy technology.
  • 4 years old - made his first circuit board. 7 years old - built a V8 motorbike engine. 16 years old - won the 4th Annual M.I.T. Robot Design Award. 17 years old graduated MIT at the top of his class.


Real Name:  Anthony Edward Stark

Alias: Iron Man.

Citizenship: Bulgarian, American.

Date of Birth: unknow. Born between March 21 and April 19.

Biological Relatives: mother Amanda Armstrong (was a SHIELD agent); father Jude Unknow Last Name (Hydra double-agent at SHIELD).

Adoptive Relatives: father Howard Stark (deceased); mother Maria Stark (deceased); brother Arno Stark.

Keep reading


Sawa-San’s ‘Terminator’ AE86

You may have seen some shots of this AE86 on its roof being posted around the net recently. Unfortunately, the car known as the ‘Terminator 86′ and its owner Sawa-San had a pretty bad accident at Gunsai Touge, ending with the car upside down and a substantial amount of damage. Luckily Sawa-San is OK, despite a few hefty looking scuffs on his helmet! 

This car was pretty well-known on the drift circuits in Japan. Sawa-San is a very active drifter and gets to a lot of events. The Terminator style headlights also made it a very distinctive car. 

Here are some shots I took of it back in Spring at the Ebisu Drift Matsuri. 

R.I.P Terminator 86.

A Synthesizer to play Radiohead

Originally written in response to the following question, this should serve to answer any synthesizer recommendation inquiries. 

Hello man, amazing work here! I was wondering What synth I could buy to pin down some of their most characteristic synth sounds (Let Down, Everything In It’s Right Place, Identikit, Staircase, Myxomatosis, Airbag’s “Martenot” [Korg prophecy]). I guess it would be the Prophet 08 but is there some other DSI cheaper ooption. Thanks :D

Thom and Jonny with a Sequential Circuits Prophet 5, Roland Juno-60, and Moog MiniMoog Voyager PE druing the recording of A Moon Shaped Pool. They also used their Dave Smith Instruments Prophet 08 and a Sequential Circuits Prophet 10 during the same sessions.

The synth on Let Down is a ZX Spectrum Computer. Everything in its Right Place is a Sequential Circuits Prophet 5. Staircase was a DSI Prophet 08. The bass on Climbing Up The Walls is an original Novation Bass Station, the bass on All I Need is Nigel’s Prophet 5, and the bass on Lotus Flower is a vintage MiniMoog Model D. The bass sound on Myxomatosis is a resonant monosynth layered with Colin’s fuzzy (Lovetone Big Cheese) bass guitar. The pads on Myxomatosis are a web of polysynths and chorus’d string-synthesizers (best heard 2:07-2:25, and in the last few seconds). Identikits “Broken hearts” section features synths panned left and right, probably a mixture of Prophets. The synthy choir on Motion Picture Soundtrack is a combination of Mellotron and ondes Martenot. Idioteque’s “synth” is a sample of a piece (Mild und Leise by Paul Lansky) created a room-sized IBM super-computer. The “synth” near the end of 15 Step is Ed’s Autoharp run through his pedalboard. As you note, the Martenot-like synth on Airbag (and Climbing Up The Walls) is a Korg Prophecy.

Thom and Jonny with an ARP 2600, a Roland SH101, and a Clavia Nord Lead 3 during the recording of In Rainbows.

It should be clear that no single synth can come close to replicating all of Radiohead’s synth sounds, or even their most distinctive.

First, there’s the fact that Radiohead have used a wide range of instruments over the years. Many synths (monophonic ones) are used only for bass sounds, while others (polyphonic) are used only for chordal textures. Others (string synthesizers, vintage samplers) are in different classes altogether. While most are subtractive synthesizers and have similar architecture, most have very distinctive filters. For example, the Bass Station, Roland SH-101 (used during the In Rainbows sessions), and MiniMoog Model D are all similar mono synths, but their filters sound radically different. By far the most significant factor in a subtractive synthesizer’s tone is the tone of its filter: regardless of how many oscillators, waveforms, envelopes, and extra features a synth offers, it will always sound like its filter. (This is part of why eurorack is so appealing: you can build a single synth with multiple filters cloned from vintage synths).

But even a digital synth with multiple filter emulations will have trouble replicating many of Radiohead’s “synth” sounds, because they often consist of other instruments layered with synthesizers, such as on Myxomatosis. And that doesn’t even cover the synthy sounds which they’ve sampled or created with other means.

Ed and Phil at Nigel’s old “The Hospital” studio during the recording of In Rainbows. On the right is an ARP 2600, while the stand on the right holds (from top to bottom) an Analogue Systems The Spawn and RS-15 Cabinet, a Korg MS-10, a Sequential Circuits Prophet 5, a PPG Wave 2.2/2.3, and an E-MU Emulator II. The RS15 Cabinet contains an RS200 Sequencer, an RS150 Seq/Switch, an RS340 Gate Delay, and an RS370 Polyphonic Harmonic Generator with RS375 Expander.

That said, Radiohead have used synths by one designer far more than any others: Dave Smith. Between the Prophet 5 and Prophet 08 (plus the Tetras which Thom and Jonny used 2012-2013), his synths have been on more tracks than those from any other brand or designer. While the filter on the Prophet 5 differs somewhat from the Prophet 08 and Tetra, the designs are similar and all use Curtis chips. As such, any one of these synths can do a pretty decent job of replicating the others.

The Actual Recommendations:

You’ll never pin down most of their most characteristic sounds with a single synthesizer, but you will be able to pin down the largest number of their sounds using a Dave Smith Instruments or Sequential Circuits synthesizer. The DSI Mopho X4 is a Prophet ‘08 with half the voices, but added sub-oscillators. The DSI Tetra (discontinued, but readily available on the used market) is the keyboard-less equivalent.

Jonny playing the old Sequential Circuits Prophet 5 during the recording of Man of War in 1998.

The one catch is that Radiohead almost exclusively use DSI and Sequential Circuits synths for polyphonic sounds (All I Need being an exception). The members of Radiohead generally use other synths for bass. For the past six or so years, Thom and Jonny have mainly used a MiniMoog when working with Radiohead. With Atoms for Peace, Thom and Nigel almost exclusively used an old Korg MS20 (best heard on Ingenue). Radiohead also had a Korg MS10 in studio during the recording of In Rainbows. And of course, Jonny has his modular synthesizers for monophonic (as well as polyphonic and rhythmic) sounds.

A good monophonic partner for a DSI polysynth would be the Korg MS20 mini. The MS20 mini is a relatively inexpensive monosynth capably of both traditional synth bass and lead sounds as well as experimental effects. Its pair of filters (high and lowpass) have a lot of character and are capable of smooth bass and intense modulation, and its pathway opens you up to modular synthesis. In fact, if you’re not too concerned with chordal textures, the MS20 would probably be a better starter synthesizer.

Nigel’s synth setup for the 2013 Atoms for Peace tour reflects the keyboards played by Thom and him during the recording of AMOK: DSI Prophet ‘08 for pads, Korg MS20 for bass and leads. The Roland A500 PRO MIDI controller above the Prophet is primarily used to trigger sampled string synthesizers for songs from The Eraser.

The prologue for an incoming Touch starved Tony piece.

Tony Stark was a genius practically from birth, put in the spotlight by both association and skill. Nobody was surprised when the rich boy started sleeping around with college kids years older than he was.

Tony remembers being 4 years old, circuit board grasped in tiny fingers. He remembers his father’s arm around his shoulder.

He remembers being 6 an engine on the counter, and his father’s hand on his shoulder, a smile on his face.

He remembers Jarvis, and a lot of hugs. Then he remembers boarding school. Remembers kids years older than him who only ever reached out to remind him that he was weakest among them. He remembers teachers who sneered when he corrected them.

He remembers Christmas break and the first hug he’d had in months. He remembers every Christmas break after that and the warmth of Jarvis arms.

He remembers Obie’s hand on his shoulder the day his parents died. He remembers thinking that he would never get a hug from Jarvis again.

He remembers having sex for the first time, he didn’t know her name, heck he barely knew his own name. But he remembered the feel of her skin against his.

He remembers the day he realized people only touched him when they wanted something. With women it was either sex or money, with Obie it was new weapons, and more professional behavior. He remembers realizing that he didn’t particularly care what they wanted if he got even a second of contact.

He remembers the day he realized that Rhodey didn’t hug him with intent. He remembers the day Rhodey shipped out for the first time.

He remembers a string of one night stands and the feeling of flesh on flesh. The feeling of warmth.

He remembers the day he returned from Afghanistan and realized that with the open vulnerability sitting in his chest sex wasn’t an option anymore.

He remembers dancing with Pepper. Remembers holding her in his arms. He remembers letting her go when she asked him to.

He remembers killing Obie, remembers knowing the man had tried to kill him. He remembers mourning the side hugs, and encouraging pats on the shoulder.

dreamhollow  asked:

Do Ma and Pa McGucket have deaged Stan take naps during the day? Since he's a child, does he get tired and grumpy during the day, that he might need to take naps? Can you write some moments where Ford and deaged Stan interact with each other pretty please!?

              Ford rubbed the back of his neck uncertainly.  

               “So, Stanley, you’re uh…” he began.  Stan crossed his diminutive arms.  

               “Say it.  I fuckin’ dare ya.”  

               “Language!” someone shouted from the kitchen.  Stan and Ford were sitting in the living room, supposedly having an “important conversation”.  At least, according to the McGuckets.  Ford wasn’t sure whether they’d actually be able to have any sort of meaningful discussion. After all, Stan was…

               “You’re a child,” Ford blurted out.  Stan rolled his eyes.

               “Wow, ya really are a genius.”

               “Fiddleford said that it was the result of a supernatural creature.”

               “Some kinda lizard.”

               “Axolotl!” the same person from before shouted.  

               “Yeah.  That.”

               “When did you-”


               “Oh.”  A silence fell.  Ford looked down at his hands in his lap, unsure of what to say next.  Someone put a hand on his shoulder.

               “How’s it goin’?” Fiddleford asked.  Ford looked up at his roommate.

               “Not well.”  

               “Pfft.  No duh,” Stan scoffed.  He slid off the couch and walked over to a corner of the living room, which was clearly his “play area”.  He began to stack up some brightly colored blocks.

               “The conversation didn’t go well?” Fiddleford asked.

               “It didn’t happen at all.  Not that I’m surprised,” Ford said.  “He won’t talk to me.”

               “Stanley, ya need to cooperate,” Fiddleford scolded.  Stan began to place toy dinosaurs on top of the stacked blocks.

               “No, I don’t.”


               “It’s his fault!” Stan burst out suddenly.  Ford blanched, remembering the moments in his childhood when he talked back, and the punishment that came after.  But nothing happened.  Fiddleford frowned.

               “Whattaya mean?”

               “It’s his fault I’m stuck like this.  He’s the reason I got kicked out!”  Stan knocked over his blocks angrily.  “This- this isn’t right, it’s not supposed to be this way!”  He glared at Ford.  “And it’s yer fault!”

               “Oh, dear,” Fiddleford muttered.  He raised his voice slightly.  “Stan, are ya havin’ an issue?”  A moment passed before Stan nodded reluctantly.  “Do ya need a break?”  Stan nodded again.  “Okay. Angie?”  Fiddleford’s younger sister stuck her head into the living room.


               “Stan needs a break.”

               “Okay.  It’s ‘bout naptime anyways.”  Angie walked over to Stan and picked him up.  He clung to her desperately.  “Come on, lil bro.  Let’s get ya in some jammies an’ off to dreamland.”  She walked away, rubbing his back in a reassuring manner.

               “What just happened?” Ford asked Fiddleford.  Fiddleford sighed.

               “Stan short-circuits sometimes.  It don’t happen that much anymore, but bein’ ‘round ya may have been the trigger this time.  It ain’t usually so aggressive, though.  Maybe he was gettin’ cranky.  It is his naptime, after all.”


               “His old mind collides with his new one.  Least, that’s what it seems like.  Back when this whole thing started, he was basic’ly a teen in a child’s body.  But over time, he settled into bein’ a kid again.  I don’t know if you’ve noticed that.”

               “I’ve noticed,” Ford replied, remembering seeing Angie brushing Stan’s hair and Ma McGucket helping him put shoes on.

               “Well, his teen mind ain’t all the way gone.  Sometimes it tries to kick his kid mind outta the way and set up camp again.  But that most often makes him feel awful weird, and he shouldn’t be ‘round non-fam’ly when it happens.  Just for his own comfort.  We call it ‘havin’ an issue’, an’ it usually happens when somethin’ reminds him of bein’ a teen, or his original childhood.”  Fiddleford looked in the direction Angie and Stan had gone.  “I haven’t seen him get this upset fer a while, though.”

               “I don’t think it was him being overtired,” Ford said softly.  “It was me.  We didn’t exactly part on the best of terms.”  Fiddleford nodded slowly.

               “In that case, it might be wisest to limit how much time ya spend with him.  It’d be cruel to make him go through that whole thing repeatedly.”

               “That’s completely fine by me,” Ford said.  “I know you and your family meant well, but it’s uncomfortable for me to be around him, too.  He’s my estranged twin brother, and now he’s a small child.  Even if we weren’t so uncomfortable around each other, I don’t know if he has the capability to have the ‘important conversation’ your family claims we need to have.”  Fiddleford patted Ford on the shoulder.

               “Understandable.  But eventually, the two of ya will need to have that conversation.  Ya know that, right?”

               “I don’t know if we can, if Stan short-circuits around me,” Ford protested. Fiddleford shook his head.

               “Like I said, it’s more or less stopped happenin’.  An’ once he reaches his proper age again, it should stop completely.”

               “That’s thirteen years away.  Who knows if I’ll even still be in contact with him then?”

               “If’n we have to drag ya back here, we will,” Fiddleford said firmly.  “1984 might seem pretty far away, but years fly by. You’ll have yer brother back by then. Trust me.”


  • Yeah, Ma and Pa McGucket make him take naps.  He fights it at first, and doesn’t completely give in until they’ve accepted that he’s stuck as being de-aged.  He definitely gets cranky and grumpy sometimes, and also throws temper tantrums.  Those are usually signs that it’s time for his nap.
  • Once the McGuckets realized that Stan was periodically having moments where he was “short-circuiting”, they set up a system to accommodate for that.  They ask him if he’s having an issue, then if he needs a break.  If he says yes to both, one of the McGucket parents or younger three children (Fiddleford, Lute, and Angie) take him somewhere else to cool off and calm down.
  • Because Ford brings up a lot of bad memories from being a teen, being around him isn’t usually the best idea for Stan.  He can be in the same room, but talking to him for extended periods of time (particularly about their shared past) will trigger “an issue”.  Which Ford isn’t losing sleep over.  This whole thing isn’t something he’s comfortable with, either.
  • Stan stops short-circuiting once he hits seventeen or eighteen, and things go a lot more smoothly for him.  But of course, by then, he can’t really hash things out with Ford, what with Ford being stuck in alternate dimensions.
Ideas for the Techno Witch v0.1

This text comes from the post/discussion I’m having with @spellscript & @sub-urbanwitchery & @madstardust. I’m just throwing some ideas, this post will evolve with time - I don’t know yet if I’ll edit it or make several versions, we’ll see!

The basic ideas is we want to blend actual code and magic, bringing the “techno witchcraft“ to a new level. I also like the idea to use hardware in magic according to their use in technology. Anyway, here are my first ideas, along with some things i found on the Internet!

Please keep in mind that I am a beginner witch, and thus may have made mistakes. If you are a beginner witch as well, please wait for the revised version before experimenting with these ideas. If you are a witch with some experience and you see something wrong, please let me know as soon as possible and try and explain me why it is wrong, so that I can modify it accordingly.
Although I have been studying coding for 4 years, nobody can know everything about coding and technology in general. Please let me know if something sounds wrong techno-wise as well.

Use Code Languages to Write Your Spells

- Simply put, write your spells in C, C++, JavaScript or whichever language you feel most comfortable with. [idea from @lunartechwitch, and you can check her C++ spells here]
- Write protection spells with if/then conditions [idea by @madstardust]

I would however advise witches not understanding these languages to not use already made spells they find on Internet. It is quite sad to not understand what you’re casting, but more importantly it can be risky, because you could be casting something dangerous without knowing it. A few weeks of basic coding tutorials should allow you to understand the spells you find, even if your level is not high enough to write them yourself :)

Automated Spells

The basic idea would be to write a spell with code and to run it in the background (be it on your computer, a server, a raspberry pi…), so that when it needs to (every hour, when the moon is in this or that phase, etc.) the little software would automatically cast the spell.
My personal problem with that would be… the lack of intent?
For instance, I saw this cute code prayer in C++ to the Moon by @lunartechwitch and I love it! But if we use it as described above, that is to say that the prayer is automatically casted everyday and that it changes depending on the current phase of the moon, then… where is the intent? There was intent while coding it, there was intent while casting/running it for the first time, but then we can just forget about it…
I guess this could be less problematic with a spell, because in my mind at least a spell needs a lot of intent in it’s original casting but it can then “run in the background“ like we can see with spell jars and such. So this could be an idea. I’m waiting to hear your thoughts about this!
[idea by @spellscript]

For the Coder Witch

- Write spells for your code to be easier to write, less buggy, and to improve your coding focus in the comment section of your code. For more discretion if you’re working with others you can write it in a barely used yet well connected with the whole project file (ex: Makefile, Read Me etc.). We need to find a way to make it totally undetectable for the secret witch coding in the same file as other people…
- Add some hidden code (either comment sections, or just use CSS to not display it) in your website, for various purposes ranging from protection to popularity [idea by @madstardust]
- Add some sigils in ASCII art hidden in the code of your website or software [idea by an anonymous poster]

Hardware Use

- Take a USB key, the inside of a broken USB key, a SD card, a broken piece from a CD/CD-Rom/floppy disk or any other memory-related object, write a sigil on it (or not) and carry it around for better memory.
- Take a piece of an old circuit board, the head of a cut Ethernet cable, the transmission piece of a WiFi modem, write a sigil on it (or not) and carry it around to improve your communication with others.
- Take a piece of a broken smartphone, computer or TV screen and carry it around (with a sigil on it or not) or include it in your spells for clarity, clearer vision, to not be blinded by emotions, etc.


Cryptid Profile: The Minnesota Iceman

Throughout the late 1960’s and 70’s, an attraction made its way to shopping malls, carnivals, and state fairs across the United States. The object on display was housed in a large refrigerated container and was frozen solid in a large block of ice. Those lucky enough to see the attraction describe the mystery object in ice as male, human-like, 6ft tall, hairy, with large hands and feet, very dark brown hair about 3 - 4 inches long,and a flattened nose. One of its arms appeared to be broken and one of its eyes appeared to have been knocked out of its socket, allegedly by a bullet that was said to have entered the creature’s head from behind.

The creature became known as The Minnesota Iceman.

The summer of 1967 was the year that Minnesota native Frank Hansen began touring the Iceman. The attraction locations were the normal stopping points for an item of this nature, so for the entire summer, onlookers from all over would make their way to local fairs and carnivals and pay 25 cents to feast their eyes upon the frozen monster. Hansen was describing the creature as a “man left over from the ice age.”

The attraction quickly spread through word of mouth until it reached the ears of two cryptozoologists by the names of Ivan Sanderson and Dr. Bernard Heuvelmans in 1968. Heuvelmans had been staying with Sanderson as a house guest when they began hearing about a large creature that was not fully man yet not fully animal either. Their interest grew even more when they heard it was also incased in a block of ice. Sanderson and Heuvelmans made their way to Hansen’s farm where they were able to view the creature themselves while it was currently being stored for the winter.

Upon arriving at Hansen’s farm, both men made their way into a cramped trailer that housed the refrigerated container that kept the iceman frozen solid. The best possible way for both men to view and examine the frozen man was to hang bright lights over the glass which kept the block of ice contained. At one point (as told by Hansen), one of the men placed one of the hot lights directly on top of the cold glass which caused the entire thing to shatter. Both Sanderson and Heuvelmans were front row when the pungent odor from the rotting flesh of a corpse filled the room. After examining the creature for three days, Heuvelmans declared the iceman as genuine and authentic.

Both Sanderson and Heuvelmans wrote papers on the creature after the examination. Heuvelmans wrote “Preliminary Note on a Specimen Preserved in Ice: Unknown Living Hominid” for The Institute of Natural Sciences in Belgium. Sanderson wrote an article entitled “Living Fossil” for Argosy Magazine.

Eventually, these papers, continued word of mouth, and the asking of Dr. John Napier to examine the creature by Sanderson led to the Smithsonian Institution getting involved. The Smithsonian eventually heard of a theory that the Iceman may be a normal human that was murdered and passed around under the guise of an attraction and asked the FBI to investigate. The agency found no wrong doing upon viewing the creature and Hansen was able to add a sign to his attraction that read “The Near-Man…. Investigated by the FBI” when the Iceman went back on tour.

Many viewers of the creature asked Hansen where the creature came from, he originally told them that the he met a man in early 1967 in Arizona who was in possession of the creature. The man told Hansen that the creature was discovered floating in the ocean by Chinese fishermen while frozen in a giant 6,000lb block of ice. Hansen promptly bought the creature off the man and began to display it. He also told onlookers that the creature was discovered in the vast wilderness of Siberia and was killed out of fear, frozen in ice, and shipped back to the United States. Later in life though, Hansen told the actual true story of how he came upon the creature.

Hansen told the story of how he had been hunting in the upper north woods of Wisconsin when he came upon what he thought was a group of bears in the distance. Frightened when one of the creatures turned in his direction and began to charge towards him, Hansen thought to only do one thing, he took aim and put the beast down with a shot to the head. The other two creatures retreated back into the woods. Upon approaching the fallen trophy, Hansen made the startling discovery that this was no bear, but a large hairy thing that resembled a mix between an ape and a man. Scared of the possibility that he could face jail time for killing this mystery creature, Hansen came up with a story about how it was discovered floating at sea, as well as a story about how it was found in Siberia. He loaded the carcass up and transported it back to Minnesota where it was promptly frozen.

Throughout the years, many people have come forward stating that the Iceman was a hoax. A father and son team from California claimed to have been hired to make a rubber Neanderthal body to be displayed in a cabinet under ice for a business man. A woman also came forward claiming to be the actual hunter who killed the Iceman when it attacked her near Bemidji, Minnesota. She said she killed the creature with a shot through the eye and sold his corpse for cash.

After growing old with the touring circuit, Hansen removed the creature from exhibition and even claimed to have buried it. Others state that Hansen sold it to a private collector for a hefty profit. But Hansen would never go on record stating what officially happened to the Iceman. Every once in a while, a rumor pops up stating the Iceman is currently being shown at local state fairs or museums again, but these have all been proven to be costumes or recreations built to the eyewitness descriptions of the classic creature.

Currently in Texas at the Museum of the Weird, a recreation exhibit of the original Minnesota Iceman (complete with refrigeration case and “authentic” recreation body within) has been put on permanent display for all to enjoy. (Photo of this recreated exhibit is shown below.)

-The Pine Barrens Institute