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ctommyisnt · 3 months

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1:A song you like with a color in the title

OKAY my first thought was blistere in the sun by Violent femmes but i only just now realized its violent not violet. anyway. Violet by Wild Party!!!! One of my FAVORITE songs for sure. Could listen to it forever

2:A song you like with a number in the title

Second child restless child by the oh hellos (does this count? yes. it does). My favorite song by this band and it makes me feel so FREE and EXCITED and HOPEFUL.

3:A song that reminds you of summertime

I HAVE TOO MANY!!! summer is my favorite season and i have so many good memories of dancing in my neighborhood taking three hour walks just listening to music i loved (i wasnt allwoed to listen to my own music or wear earbuds in my house so it was my only chance to listen to music that wasnt christian or broadway) If i had to choose ONE though it would probably be talk too much by COIN. i would play this on repeat and just DANCE in the middle of the street.

4:A song that reminds you of someone you would rather forget about

Hmmm this ones hard. I luckily dont have any songs associated with people but whenever i hear about eurovision i get a bad taste in my mouth so we're going with that.

5:A song that needs to be played LOUD

Already answered this but slingshot by good kid! If i want to go more mainstream it's gotta be I love it, that is the ultimate clubbing song and makes me feel so cool

6:A song that makes you want to dance

Arhghh i already used Talk too much so ill have to go with dance with me by sir, please. Typical but cmon man

7:A song to drive to

I only really listen to music while driving (i NEED to buy a speaker) but Heart of a Dancer makes me feel SO cool and i always go at least 20 over the speed limit when listening to this on the highway.

8:A song about drugs or alcohol

Uhhh? I don't listen to lyrics OH WAIT bullet by hollywood undead. I fucking loved that song when i was sixteen which if you know the song you know what i was like back then LOL

9:A song that makes you happy

Most songs but also Kaleidoscope by a great big world. THIS is a summer camp prologue montage music type beat but UGH it always makes me so happy. I think its been on almost every playlist ive made this year (i make my playlist by seasons so this is a good cold winter song AND summer song)

10:A song that makes you sad

Anything by Everybody Worries about Owen, Obsessed with his Denton lake album that shit was my depression music for a year. Not a big fan of his newer music.

11:A song that you never get tired of

Shawshank Demo by the toyston club, its been one of my top played songs for like three years and i have it in almost every playlist.

12:A song from your preteen years

uhhh i cant do shawshank or talk too much again so i think OH WAIT nothign by bruno major. I was so sad over this and would listen to it over and over again just imagining myself dancing to this song with my fictional or irl crushes. I was cringe but i was free and those daydreams kept me alive for those years.

13:One of your favorite 80’s songs

UPTOWN GIRL BY BILLY JOELLLLLL hes such a guy and i want to be the uptown girl so bad. or everybody wants to rule the world thats a CLASSIC

14:A song that you would love played at your wedding

Im doing two for this one because one of them is Marry You by bruno marrs which will be played as my partner and i walk down the aisle after the ceremony and everyone cheers and throws flowers. My other one is Cinderella by Steven Curtis Chapman because thats going to be my father daughter dance if he still loves me when i get married.

15:A song that is a cover by another artist

FROM THE START. BY GOOD KID. this one one of my FAVORITE songs right now and i have screamed along to it at karaoke before. Amazing song

16:One of your favorite classical songs

Anything my sisters play on the piano but i Do Not have a distinction because there is not universe in which i can make out a distinct classical song.

17:A song that would sing a duet with on karaoke

LITTLE TALKS BY OF MONSTERS AND MEN!!! this song is SO fun and id love to sing this a drink and a half in with my friends OH OR THAT TICK TICK BOOM SONG ive done duets to that with my sisters before.

18:A song from the year that you were born

I cant NOT say american idiot by greenday like cmon. Are you gonna be my girl by the jets AND mr brightside also came out htat year.

19:A song that makes you think about life

............. Maybe I was boring BUT ALSO. hello my old heart iwasplanningonkillingmyselftothissong BUT its not a very nostalgic 'i got through this shit' song

20:A song that has many meanings to you

I have a playlist called 'Nothing is right and your looking for yourself in the suburbs but cant find it' which sounds metaphorical but was actually a very literal thing i used to do as a teen, spending hours walking around my neighborhood listening to this while trying to figure out who i was. Its my ultimate existencial crisis playlist and it's just the Maybe I was Boring thirteen minute demo cut ten seperate times. I play it whenever I feel lost and dissociative. It usually helps but it also reminds me of dark times.

21:A favorite song with a person’s name in the title

natalie by bruno mars that song is SO fun WAIT NO grace by the hatchetman this song goes crazy

22:A song that moves you forward

Shy by Saint Blonde! Its very hopeful and gives me 'this is just the start of a great day/month/summer/year' you need to listen to it.

23:A song that you think everybody should listen to

You were perfect & im sorry by mickey darling!! I just saw one of his concerts and MAN this song goes crazy. it tells a story and really delves into this guy and just ADSJFASLKDASLDK

24:A song by a band you wish were still together

Sobbing. Great Lake Drifters. They have 7 monthly listeners and havent done anything since 2015 OH MY GOD I JUST LOOKED THEM UP THEY HAVE A NEW SONG???? WHAT THE FUCK???????????? EVERYONE GO LISTEN TO IT RIGHT NOW my favorite song by them is verbal chess

25:A song by an artist no longer living

uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i dont recall any artists ever. is elton john dead? I like that song im still standing but only the taron edgerton sing cover.

26:A song that makes you want to fall in love

Lucky girl by fazerdaze makes me SO upset because i WANT To be a lucky girl and listen to this song while walking down the street with my lover but nOOOoooo i CANT. BECAUSE I DONT HAVE A LOVER. someday.

27:A song that breaks your heart

Saline solution by wilbur soot was also one of my depression songs and i just. arghgjh reminds me of sad times. I cant listen to it anymore without a sinking feeling in my gut.

28:A song by an artist with a voice that you love

i dont know who autoheart is or what he looks like but i want him to fuck me. lent by

29:A song that you remember from your childhood

Again, i didnt listen to music much as a kid because it was just the christian stuff my parents played but my most nostalgic one would be See, what a morning by Keith and Kristyn getty. The song tastes like swedish pancakes drowning in butter and syrup while the sun beats through the kitchen window, dappled by the vines. It's so visual to me and i always mourn my childhood when my mom plays it.

30:A song that reminds you of yourself

Scrawny by the wallows is the song i want to embody. I genuiknely want people to hear that song and be like 'yeah thats nells, thats her' But right now maybe Drifting by good kid? i dont pay attention to lyrics but this one is NICE

I love my songs and cherish them deeply so this took a long time. I love questoins. PLEASE LISTEN TO ANY OF THESE music is so intigral to my life and i dont listen to a lot so yeah. I also only like like three genres of music so if you like one of these youll like them all LOL

#ask game #technically #this was just me wanting to ramble and reminisce

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protectgeorgeweasley · 2 years

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A set of reflections on a rainy writing day

Writing dialects from the UK is wild because:

-I'm not a prescriptivist, so we write our accents lexically here. [Nor am I a linguistics expert. It was a special interest a while back.]

-Every once in a while, something totally innocuous will have a completely unanticipated meaning, which is usually met with the utmost kindness and amusement by any readers from the UK. [Thank you.]

-Since I use a completely different set of slang in my daily life, sometimes I have to de-Americanize my writing. This has varying levels of success.

-Sometimes I have to part with really, really funny puns because the words aren't used in quite the same context, and it wouldn't be in character for George to say. This is especially heartbreaking because George is funny and I am middling at best in real life with humor, and the amount of befuddlement I've endured trying to write a clever person is excessive. I am not clever. I'm not. I'm an anxious ball of fettucine noodles that got left in a pot overnight and congealed.

-- [subpoint to the above, not related to dialect writing] I have so much social anxiety, that this blog has 80+ drafts that have never been posted of things I've thought to share with you all, then gone "oh, no. That might be too annoying/too personal/too awkward."

-the number of times I've googled "British word for [insert term here]" is astonishing. My instincts for when I need to google this phrase are spotty as well. Americanisms, therefore, do sneak their way in. [Tangentially--I know some people have British friends who read for specifically this type of thing. However, my writing schedule a mess, and I cannot subject someone else to its nonsense without feeling high levels of anxiety.]

-I'm still not positive about how "kip" is used grammatically/syntactically. I can't sort out the pattern in the syntax, so I've been fumbling with like two examples as a template this entire time. [I am an imposter.] [Truly. Is it "take a kip?" "Kipping?" "He's having a kip?" I do not understand.]

-So many words for raincoat. I love it. Never change.

-I do not live there, so I have less personal understandings of different regions and their quirks. I also don't know how new some words are in comparison to others, how far slang terms travel, and who would be more or less likely to use them. So, I've got to look all that up when I employ new slang or expressions.

-I tend to over explain in daily conversation. You might imagine, then, the pretzel that Cockney rhyming slang turns my brain into.

-"a bit" is used so often. It screams at me from the page. I stare at it, sometimes, wondering if it's repeated too much. Then I listen to someone from the UK talk and change my mind. [This is not meant critically or unkindly; every dialect has words it uses more than others.]

-Little references to things like soap operas, theme parks, or highways are the result of extensive research sprints, and there is one reader who consistently notices these things and every time they do, I nearly cry for joy.

-Wellies is my favorite word of theirs/yours. I love saying it. I love reading it. I love thinking about it. Wellies are a symbol of some of the most pure, joyful parts of existence to me. To have a set of shoes for walking through the rain/mud is to be cared for and to have your needs anticipated and to be prepared, and all of those things make me feel safe.

-I can't decide whether we're using British spellings or American. [Sorry if the back and forth between "color" and "colour" is driving you up the wall. It feels like I'm being fake if I use "colour," but I have physical difficulty using "colour" in written notes and things because that's not how the character would spell it. I know that it's most important to just be consistent. Yet here we are. Adrift in a sea of "o" and "ou," without a compass.]

-I've seen many jokes about British people not liking hugs. I've done my best to understand and acknowledge this while politely showing it the door within the context of Lumos, because 2020 and every year that's followed it has needed more hugs.

#lumosfic #writing things #This is so much information

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obnoxiouslylongandboring · 3 years

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My Tunnels Are Long and Dark These Days

Featuring snapshots of the three most important road trips in Zemo and John's journey of working together.

To love is to pretend, don't try to love yourself again That is the worst kind of pain We're not those kinds of freaks, amen We're a different sort of breed of men

KARAKORAM HIGHWAY, CHINA-PAKISTAN

Zemo sat slouching in his seat, one hand hanging out the window of the truck, another draped on the steering wheel. The road stretched out in front of them, disappearing into the shadows of the mountains and forests. The sun was not up yet, it was early morning. 5AM, where no one rose out of bed but the office workers, the labourers, the soldiers coming out of their blanket shells. And where no one entered into slumber but the gravediggers, the night-shifters, the soldiers retreating into their blanket shells. The truck had been trotting along the road for hours, a small brown beetle with its headlights shining pale yellow, framing the one-meter radius ahead of it. Twenty-four hours ago had been when they first kicked the ignition into its churn in the region of Kashgar (a former trading town along the Silk Road), and when the prospects of a proper ceramic toilet had bit the dust. Twenty-four hours come and gone, with Zemo quietly helming the operation.

From Kashgar, they had traveled to Karakul under the cover of night, a journey that had taken them six hours. There had been no scenery of note but white moonlight glinting off the peaks of the two tall snowy mountains, Muztagh Ata and Mount Kongur. The shimmering scales of the Karakul lake had enraptured Zemo for hours, greeting him whenever a sharp jolt in the road woke him from his slumber.

And now, after resting a few hours at a local abode, they continued on to Tashkurgan, where from there they would go right into the borders of Pakistan.

A small muffled sound came from the lump beside him. “What’s the situation?” John mumbled blearily, poking his head through the covers. Zemo cast him a sideline glance, frowning at his sleep-mussed hair and squinted eyes. “It’s not your turn yet.”

With a snort, John closed his eyes again and rolled over, facing away from Zemo. He settled into another deep sleep.

A big, military-looking truck drove by them, momentarily blinding Zemo with its headlights. Heartbeat quickened in his chest, Zemo sat up straighter and observed the truck through the rearview mirror, hoping for its retreat. He glanced quickly towards his small driving compartment, doing a mental catalog of the materials there: a driver’s license, a forged visa to pass the border customs, fake passports with cover identities for himself and Walker… good, very good. All according to plan. Zemo rolled down the windows of his truck slightly, listening intently. The roar of the military truck did not fade into a distant hum. Instead, there was the screech of tires and the sudden whirring which indicated only one thing- Walker had better practiced the cover story that Zemo told him to, or the ensuing events would be catastrophic.

The urgent, piercing honking behind them startled John into wakefulness. He bolted up, then as if realizing that there was nowhere to go, settled back gingerly into his seat. “Zemo…”

Zemo tightened his grip on the wheels. Flexed his knuckles once, twice. Gently, as if petting a startled cat, rolled the ball of his foot over the brakes. “Anderson, don’t panic,” he says with practiced calm. “Remember what we rehearsed?”

“Yeah, Niki,” John replies. Though his face was carefully composed, the telltale twitching of his leg told Zemo otherwise.

All John had to do as Anderson was play the part of a slightly confused USA diplomat, heading from China to Pakistan over some matters of a proposed trade deal. Niki was to be his driver and translator, a man who had been an exchange student in China briefly where he picked up some basic Mandarin. Zemo had learned barely enough to get the both of them through a ten, fifteen-minute exchange. For the rest of his persuasion, he’d have to rely on the forged documents and the facade of confidence. If all went well, they would be sent on their merry way very quickly, and deliver all eight billion dollars worth of SHIELD information straight into the hands of Contessa. Of course, Zemo had taken an innocent, ‘accidental’ look at the confidential information, and deemed it useless enough to give to the woman. If it were anything that he found potentially dangerous, he would dispose of it immediately. Dry kindling could turn into a wildfire in Contessa’s hands, and that was the kind of risk he would never take.

“Stay calm. I will settle it quickly. The officers don’t want to make a big deal out of this either- we will be on our way soon,” he hissed to John as soon as he heard the crunch of boots on the tarmac.

Zemo rolled his window down to the silhouette of a heavily-clad soldier, who was covered head to toe in military gear. His eyes seemed to be narrowed, whether it was from suspicion or simply fatigue.

“有签证吗？” (Do you have a visa?)

“有。” (Yes.) Zemo reached into the compartment and retrieved the documents. The soldier took a quick look at them via the torchlight and passed it back to him. Then, tipping his chin at John- “他是你的朋友？” (Is he your friend?)

“他是我的老板。” (He's my boss.) Zemo struggled to recall the words for a moment. “我帮他翻译。” (I help him to translate.)

“对于游客来说，这时间挺早的。你们从卡拉库尔来的？” (This time of day is quite early for a tourist to be travelling. Are you coming from Karakul?)

Zemo blinked, processing the words. “可以…重复吗？” (Can you... repeat that?)

The guard sighed, then said slowly- “你们从，卡拉库尔，来? ” (You came, from, Karakul?)

The pieces slot into place in his head. 卡拉库尔 - Karakul. You… from… you came from Karakul.

“对，对。抱歉，我的华文不好。” (Yes, yes. Apologies, my mandarin isn't good.)

The guard laughed, but there was no condescension or meanness in it. “对于老外来说，发音挺好。” (For a foreigner, your pronunciation is pretty good.)

He continues, “好，好，谢谢。打扰你了。不多说了，你们走吧。” (Yes, yes, thank you. Sorry for the disturbance, you can go.)

Zemo, displaying the kindest smile he could, nodded and bade the man farewell. He turned off the lights in the car and smirked, knowing John could see it- This is how a professional works.

Another voice rang out, different from the one earlier. “先别走。” (Don't go yet.)

Zemo’s foot froze at the pedal. John’s expression was one of pure confusion and panic, his calmness now barely held together. Through the conversation earlier, Zemo had already sensed him vibrating with stagnant energy, and now it was manifesting in dangerous, careless ways. Zemo quickly reached out to touch John shoulder and calm him down- he's learnt that the other man responded best to physical contact, something he himself detested.

John’s wild gaze lifted to a point above his shoulder and lingered there.

The sharp rapping at the glass behind him are like bullets to his ears.

Zemo turns around, “为何…” (Why...)

His voice died in his throat. Standing there outside the car, equally shocked- Karlen Constantine.

Zemo could recognize that face anywhere. The rounded jaw, the brittle mouth, and that hateful, hateful look in his eyes.

The same look he gave when Zemo framed him for murder and left a two-million-dollar bounty on his head in Madripoor. Eight years ago.

Zemo takes quick stock of the situation. Judging by Constantine’s badges- high ranking. Heavily armed. A long, long road ahead of them. Walker has no shield, not yet. That was still in the process of being manufactured in Romania. Car chases weren’t an option. Evasion wasn’t an option. Anything other than negotiation would lead to their death. Zemo swallowed the saliva that rested heavily on his tongue.

“Karlen, please,” he says. John inhaled loudly behind him, he ignored it.

“You son of a bitch,” Karlen laughed gleefully. “Oh, this has made my day. I’m going to enjoy this.”

“What the fuck is going on, Zemo?” John snarled, ditching the pseudonym. He knew the game was up, the only question was how they were going to get out of this situation.

“Karlen, I’m invaluable to you,” Zemo continues carefully. His heart is pounding wildly in his chest, and it’s taking every iota of energy in him to keep his voice steady, to prevent the wave of panic from engulfing his mind. Any wrong word, any wrong move, and he would be dead within minutes. The car was bulletproof, but at such close range… with a shotgun, no less… Zemo knew the specs of the glass well, but he loathed taking risks. “I can-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Karlen screamed, spittle hitting the glass. “Both of you, get the fuck out. Hands where I can see them. Slowly. Fucking do it slowly, or I’ll blow a hole in your leg.”

With steady breaths, Zemo complied. He could feel the adrenaline rushing up to his brain, reducing everything to a frantic pulsing in his muscles, the instinctual urge to run or fight. He got out of the car, hands raised to his shoulders, holding John’s gaze steady- don’t do anything rash. Follow my lead. And surprisingly, John did. He followed without a single word of protest, even though Zemo knew he was aching to throw a punch, to smash his fist into someone’s temple, or feel the satisfying recoil of a gun vibrating against his bones.

Zemo felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed between his eyes, at the same time that John jolted forward and cried, “No!”

“Don’t FUCKING move!” Karlen roared again, clicking off the safety. “Stay where you are or I’ll fucking kill him. Zemo, he answers to you, right? Tell him.”

Zemo glanced away to catch John’s horrified stare before his head was painfully yanked back by the roots of his hair. “Hey. Eyes on me. What did I say?”

“John, don’t move,” Zemo said slowly, grimacing as Karlen’s grip tightened.

“Now kneel.”

Zemo complied, breathing heavily. He could feel the fur of his jacket sticking to the back of his neck, and how hot his entire body felt, alight with energy. The aching of his scalp and knees had faded into a dull buzzing, overtaken by the hyperawareness of Karlen, his every movement, and Walker’s unyielding presence at his back.

As if sensing the same, Walker leaned forward carefully to place himself in Zemo's peripheral vision, discreet enough that Karlen wouldn't notice.

"Three years. Three years, I had to run and run and run. All because you stabbed me in the back, like the fucking coward you are. We were friends, but that didn't mean shit to you, did it? I'm glad your fucking wife and kids died. I hope they suffered. Oh yeah, I hope they screamed. I'm going to make this very painful for you too, Zemo."

Zemo's hands were trembling with the force of keeping them from Karlan's throat. It was taking everything he had to restrain himself. He tipped his chin up, looked straight into the matching pair of hateful eyes, and spat at Karlen's feet. "Fuck you."

It barely sounded like his own voice. The hate was thick sewer sludge, bubbling past the broken glass in his throat. A blinding burst of red splattered across his vision- Zemo flinched from the force at which the rage slammed into his mind. I will kill you. I will peel your skin from your bones, bit by bit. You're going to be screaming like a pig by the time I'm done. Constantine, you'll wish you were dead-

Karlen punched him so hard his entire body collapses to the side. Zemo tasted blood on his tongue, and god, it was pouring out of his nose. It wasn't broken, however- he turned his head just in time to prevent that. The lights look blurry- his eyes were watering.

Another kick connected with his stomach and Zemo cried out in pain, curling up into a ball.

Stop, stop, fucking stop, someone was shouting. When his head finally stopped ringing, he realised that it was John.

"You're friends with this guy?" Karlen laughed. "Oh, come on. He's just going to stab you in the back too. In fact, I'm sure he's already plotted multiple ways to kill you or fuck you up."

"He's tried," John laughed mirthlessly. His voice dropped into a low growl, a voice meant for spilling dirty little secrets- "Many, many times."

"And guess what, I'm still here. You aren't. A word of advice? Don't take yourself so seriously. You don't mean shit to him if you can't keep yourself around," John continued.

Zemo struggled to push himself back up, panting hard. He can't gather enough air to shout, stop talking. Those words laid like a brand against his skin, spelling out the name John Walker, a possessive claim.

I'm special, John Walker practically crowed.

And Zemo hated that he was right.

"If you like him so much, you can join him." Karlen laughed, raised his gun to John Walker, and fired.

He was fast.

John was faster.

The bullet buried itself harmlessly into the ground. The soldiers startle, reaching for their guns. One shot, Karlen's body dropped. The muffled thump launched Zemo's body into action. His fingers found a gun, and without blinking he whirled and pulled the trigger three times.

A few more shots rang out, and two more men are down.

Zemo swayed on his feet, but before he could collapse, there were strong arms around him, leading him to the car. He's shoved into it in a daze. John Walker entered through the other side, at the wheel.

"Shh. Shh. Hey. Hey, princess, look at me." A damp cloth was pressed into his hands, and he instinctively brought it up to his nose to staunch the bleeding. They're both breathing harshly from the fight. Gunpowder blue eyes stared back at him, brows furrowed. Light glanced off the mirror, staining John's hair a warm golden. Zemo was reminded of his vintage brass rulers, the beautiful old smell they had...

Wait. Light? He lifted his head to see the sunrise, then the time on the electronic clock. 6.05 AM. The tourist buses would be moving out soon, which meant-

"Drive," he whispered, and John kicked the car into high gear without a word.

"I'll text Contessa to put a roadblock on both sides and clear up the scene as quickly as possible. Once at Tashkurgan we'll leave the car, take the tourist bus, and blend in with the rest. I will arrange for Contessa to meet us earlier than was planned. When we arrive in Pakistan, we need to get past the border security. Even though we're compromised, this will not be risky. It's broad daylight and there are too many people at the border to cause a scene. The congestion will be in our favour. Clear?"

"Crystal."

"And the next time, I'll tell Contessa that travelling at night is a bad idea."

John frowned. "Hey, don't blame yourself. No one knew this was going to happen."

"We were nearly killed, John."

"Yeah, what's the big deal? Do you know how many times I've nearly been killed, Zemo? More than I could count. And trust me, this does not even come close." John laughs brightly. "We got outta there fine, yeah? Trust me. Not even close. It was a team effort."

Zemo looked down, and saw the slight quivering of his leg that John tried to hide. He dragged his eyes up to John's face, and recognised the tiny, near-imperceptible strain in his eyes... something you would not catch unless you were specifically looking for it.

You can be a really good liar if you tried, John.

"You're special to me, you know." the words came out in a rush, stumbling over one another. It sounded like a confession, and Zemo hated how it made his heart stutter, how his hands tingled, how the pain and the anger faded away into a schoolboy-nervousness.

The entire world, bottled down to a single response.

And he waited for an answer with bated breath, though he was uncertain of the question he had asked, if any at all.

My ending thoughts:

John Walker tells Zemo about love, like how a parent tells their child about the unobservable universe, about the untouched depths of the ocean, as if whispering: don't fear the unknown, for we'll explore it together.

Inspiration and images were taken from:

Zion National Park, United States (Utah)

Black Canyon of the Gunnison, United States (Colorado)

Trollstigen, Norway

Transf��gărășan road, Romania

Karakoram Highway, China-Pakistan

Images were taken from Google, not owned by me.

#walkerbaron #zemo #john walker #fatws #Spotify

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