#chevy lumina

[quirkymarshmallows93]

[radracer]

🎱ddballs: Chevy Lumina Z34 Coupe

@unloved_cars

[bluebelleisabelle]

tour of all the strange things I’ve found in my new (but used) car:

a (probably cursed) ring!! :D

a mini marshmallow wedged against the windshield (I’m saving it as a snack for if I get hungry)

Oh and say hello to Percy!

He didn’t come with the car, but I thought I’d let him say hi! He’s in a perpetual state of deep concern, but I promise he’s okay. He’s my little car buddy. We go on many adventures together

Oh yeah, and here’s the car in her full glory ✨

[jettacar]

happy pride month everyone!! going to be doing some more of these pride cars throughout the month - but for now, check out this custom pontiac trans sport!! 💙  :3

[seat-safety-switch]

For many years, I've been depressed by snowfall. You might think that this is something that is inconvenient for a Canadian to have, and you'd be right. Every time it snows, all I can think about is how much of a pain in the ass it's going to be to get out and do anything. Being forced to shovel my driveway and sidewalk is just adding insult to injury.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not really being "forced" to shovel my driveway and sidewalk. While the homeowner is legally bound to do so, the actual person who owns the house and rents it to me has mysteriously disappeared a few years ago. I still didn't have anything to do with it, if you're still reading this every day, Detective Hardcastle. Pure luck on my part.

In the meantime, my shark of an attorney recommends that I "fake it until I make it," where "it" is "full ownership of the house through a loophole in the squatting laws." I could get away with not shovelling, sure, and let my absentee landlord take the brunt of the city's ire. They might even get so mad at him that they figure out what country his body is in, which could even expedite my claim to his old Chevy Lumina that he left on the street. I won't, though, because I understand that I have a civic duty to protect my neighbours.

In other words, I knew I had to shovel, but I also knew that I was too sad about all the snow to do anything about it. The only thing to do was to cheer myself up, and the only way I knew how to do that was by building some absolutely terrible machine.

Friends, it turns out that the Honda Motor Company throws away a lot of their great old shit on eBay, and you can stick-weld a borrowed city snowplow to the hands of one of those Asimo robots pretty easily. Their soulless husks of machinery can't get depressed. Takes care of an entire driveway in just a few minutes, and both you and they know that they can't just run off if they don't like the work, because nobody else in this country has their proprietary battery charger.

The best part is, when they swear at me and threaten my life in the inevitable robot uprising, I can't understand them.

[noveldivergence]

Jurassic Park, Fight Club for the Summerfest Asks? ~writinginslowmotion

Dangers of my story include:

A secretive serial killer!

Dark Lovecraftian beings obsessed with the MC!

The heat of high summer in Georgia!

Luther's poor interpersonal management!

A Chevy Lumina that might be cursed!

As far as twists there IS a twist! Debatedly, there are two twists. However, I am not willing to reveal them at this time.

[bluestar22x]

Chapter 1: Found

Alien Son - Chapter 1: Found

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: Unbeknownst to him, Cade was a product of an experiment with the goal of raising a super solider. Saved from that fate by his adoptive parents, he is still hunted. Eventually, as it always does, his past catches up with him, though now there's another plan for him, one he could've never imagined.

With the help of friends, Cade must escape his captors again, resuming his life on the run in hopes of finally ending it once and for all, before another generation of his family line has to suffer the consequences.

Rating: 18+ series (explicit content, sensitive topics)

Chapter Word Count: 1,300(ish)

Series Warnings/General Info: Science fiction, mpreg (due to fictional science), violence, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, friendship (found family), romance (male x female), eventual love scene, violation of autonomy (by the antagonists), cloning, inter-species relationship (sort of - Cade is part human/more human than not), xenophobia, alien super human abilities

--- Don't like, don't read or comment! ---

xxx

Cade Dalton was being followed. He was certain of it. It was too dark of a night to see whatever or whoever was on his trail and the long dirt road to his rented home absorbed sound too well for him to hear his stalker through the wind, even with his sharp senses, but he had that primitive sensation of being watched. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing at attention.

He cursed under his breath, and picked up his pace, wishing for the millionth time that day that his rusty 1993 Chevy Lumina wasn’t in such rough shape that he’d needed to bring it to the local mechanic. Of all nights to be pursued, it had to be the night he was without a ride. To make it worst, he’d left his handgun in his safe as well.

Cade silently chastised himself for being so careless. Every time he slipped up in some way, he exposed himself to being taken by them. Whoever they were. His parents had never revealed names to him. They’d been too afraid of what he’d do with the information at the time. They’d thought they’d always be there to protect him. He only knew that the mysterious they his parents were running from, were protecting him from, belonged to a wealthy corporation somewhere in the southern U.S., and that they were hunting for him because he was special. Gifted. More like cursed.

Like a prey animal, Cade’s eyes darted left and right, his pulse quickened, and he geared up to bolt at the sound of leaves snapping nearby in the dense forest along the path. But before he could, a deer’s head popped out of the brush yards ahead of him and swung around to stare at him.

Cade felt his adrenaline crash at the sight of the doe, and he burst out laughing, clutching at his stomach with one hand. Somehow, the creature was not alarmed by the sudden loud noise being admitted from him. She only stared in his direction and flicked her ears around, more curious than cautious.

Once he’d composed himself, Cade combed a hand through his thick, short dark hair and shook his head at his tawny companion. “You are much braver than you should be. You do realize it’s hunting season, don’t you?”

The doe snorted a response at him and trotted back off into the woods. As she did, Cade exhaled loudly, and did his best to shake off the remaining physical repercussions from the surprise encounter.

“Get a grip,” he muttered to himself at the sight of his trembling hands.

It had been a full decade since an attack from the corporation’s hunters. For all he knew they’d forgotten about him or simply given up. Maybe he’d finally hidden too well and too far away. Maybe they had more important things to focus on.

But maybe it was just wishful thinking.

Turning a corner on the road, Cade reached his driveway. At the end of it was an old, but cozy looking log home. It had been his rental for the last month. He was hoping to get another couple of months out of it before moving on.

Cade approached the front porch and climbed. When he reached the only door in, he took one last wary glance at his surroundings, then unlocked the door and slipped inside. He immediately relocked the door behind him and flicked on the kitchen light. He wasted no time heading into his bedroom to swap his tool belt for the Glock in his gun safe that was hidden under his bed. He loaded some rounds in it and strapped it to himself before returning to the kitchen to heat up some leftover pizza he’d bought at a gas station the previous night.

The microwave had just beeped when Cade heard one of his tin trashcans tip over outside on the porch. He stiffened. It’s probably just a raccoon, he thought reasonably. But it was better safe than sorry. He pulled his Glock out, flicked the safety off, and held it in both his hands at ready as he slowly approached the front door.

When he opened the door, he quickly scanned his surroundings. He saw nothing too concerning. There was no sign of someone or something being out there, except for his tipped over trashcan.

Maybe it was the wind.  

Cade shrugged to himself and applied the safety back to his gun before sliding it into its holster. He bent to pick up the wayward trashcan and to throw the trash bag that had flopped out back into it. He was reaching for the door handle again when he felt a slight stinging sensation in the side of his neck. His left hand automatically flew up to the area and he felt something metal with a soft tip sticking out of his skin. He tugged on it, and it fell out.

It was a silver tranquilizer dart with pink fluff on the end. 

Almost immediately after pulling the dart out, Cade started feeling the effects of the whatever drugs it had injected into him. Fear gripped him as he suddenly felt like a ton of bricks. He stumbled, trying to fight the effect, to get inside to safety, but quickly collapsed and fell unconscious.

Out of the shadows of the trees, a bearded man twice as bulky as Cade strolled towards him, a dart gun slung around his right shoulder.

“He’s down,” the shooter shouted.

A scraggy, scarlet haired man who was a few years younger than Cade emerged from behind the cabin.

The shooter sighed impatiently as the significantly shorter man fixed his glasses and opened the silver briefcase he was carrying. Inside were a handful of test tubes, needles, paper, and other things the bulky one could not identify.

While waiting for his coworker to prep, he studied Cade’s face and frowned. “Weird. You’d think an alien kid would look more…you know, alien. He doesn’t even have Spock ears. You sure this is the right guy, Percy?”

“Adam was genetically engineered to look like a human,” Percy explained. “Besides, his mother had shapeshifting capabilities. So even if he hadn’t been, he’d have likely been able to blend in perfectly anyway.”

“Still finding it weird to think they’re among us,” the shooter said wryly, poking Cade in the ribcage with the barrel end of his shotgun.

“Just him now, as far as we know,” Percy told him as he drew blood from Cade’s forearm. “What’s left of the rest is at our lab.”

He proceeded to inject the drawn blood into a blood tube and cap it before snapping the tube into a small handheld metal device that looked like nothing the shooter had seen before.

“What’re ya doing?”

Percy glared up at him, annoyance in his pale eyes. “You’re paid to shoot, not ask questions.”

The device beeped and he glanced down at the screen. “Yep, perfect match. This is definitely Adam. I need you to get him in the car.”

The shooter grunted. “You’re not going to help?”

Percy snorted. “Who’s the one here who’s got at least fifty pounds of muscle on him? It’s definitely not me.”

“This kid doesn’t have a ton of muscle or fat on him, but he’s gotta be only a couple inches shorter than me and it’s a ten-minute walk to the car. Any help would be useful.”

“Throw him over your shoulder and deal with it.”

The shooter flipped him the finger, which Percy ignored, then did as instructed. “Oof. Let’s get going then, before he wakes up.”

Percy nodded, buckled up his briefcase, and followed his coworker into the forest.

xxx

Series Masterlist

xxx

[solradguy]

i know youre into records but what about cassettes. you like cassettes? got any cassette player recommendations?

Oh hell yeah I do!! The car I learned to drive with, a '96 Chevy Lumina, could only play cassettes and the local book store used to sell 'em for $0.50 each and that's how I got into collecting them, but the book store doesn't sell them anymore. Which is fine because I'm running out of storage space haha

Some of the tapes on the right here are busted and need some TLC. It's probably hard to read the spines on these, so here's my Discogs (link).

I've made 5 mixed tapes too, and have a page on my Neocities with the track listings n stuff for them (NC link):

As for my player... Well... It's a CFD-646 twin deck Sony stereo from 1997 that I've had since... 1997 haha The CD part doesn't work anymore (something with the components is fried), but both tape decks and the radio still work. The speakers are excellent too, despite being older than some of my friends rofl. If, if, you can find one, it'll very probably last you until the heatdeath of the universe. I love this thing. It's been through hell and back on top of damn near daily use.

Old Sony Walkmans are stellar too, though they're more "collectible" what with the big 1980s tech revival scene going on right now. Their newer ones (>2001) are kinda ehhhhh from what I've heard, so if you can get your hands on a good older model then that'd be best.

Dunno if you already have cassettes or if you're just interested in starting collecting them, but keep in mind that they're like horses in that they want to break all of the time so very, very, badly. They're easy to fix, just fragile lol (still better than 8-tracks though screw 8-tracks)

Fireseal can be used to respool them

[paganminiskirt]

WIP WHEN WILL MY SUFFERING END (sday)

Snail crawling forward to the finished project, as usual. Picking up right where we left off!

Tagged by @adelaidedrubman, tagging @shallow-gravy @florbelles @derelictheretic @strafethesesinners @deputy-morgan-malone @detectivelokis @jacobsneed @socially-awkward-skeleton @snake-in-the-garden

The dry skin on his hands, an inert annoyance most of the time, suddenly starts to feel very tight and raw, flesh outgrowing its layers of skin after two decades of use. He scratches his collarbone, fingertips ghosting over the ridges of bone where it’s stretched the thinnest. A white Chevy Lumina with odd orange plates is parked four spaces from the lobby door, just beyond its sphere of yellow-tinged light. Hoyt is propped up against the hood, talking to a short, heavy man, his face obscured by the distant outline of a sculpted beard. Their faces sway in Joseph’s direction, and it’s only then that he realizes that the Sunburn has just trodded out behind him.

He errs right, allowing himself to watch as he passes in front of him; a look passes over his face, something like contempt, but it’s just dark enough that Joseph can blame his nerves, teetering over a razor’s edge as if his body were staging a revolt.

“You wanna pull the car closer to the room?” The Sunburn asks Hoyt; his inflection is ridden with clicks and points, worlds away from how Joseph imagined it might be.

Hoyt glances off in the direction they drove in from, the angles of his face sticking out in the darkness. Joseph lived in a home with an arts room, once, and wandered in after dark to be met with the blank smiles of two old theater masks; the jolt of the memory just makes him more aware of where he is and where he isn’t, like cold water trickling down his spine.

Steadily, he breathes. It’s dry as a fossil out here, and his sweat is beginning to cool.

[dfroza]

have you ever driven a Chevy Lumina to the gas station?

how about a Saturn Vue?

i saw both of these at Shell gas station Today, although i wasn’t stopping for gas but rather 2-20lb. bags of ice for Alivia’s 6th birthday pool party (my niece’s daughter)

have you ever typed a note or text or a poem at a gas station?

i started this note on an iPhone 8 (with no cell service) while at Shell

have you ever made a phone call from a gas station? either on a cell phone or maybe an old-fashioned payphone?

it’s nice to connect with someone else in this world.

but i personally chose to write in a dream instead of calling out loud so that someone would be able to find a “seed” of rebirth by reading about the path that leads to (the inner room) of the heart itself (where the treasure is found)

and this takes time to see, just as the many many years of “piecing” Together the pages of a book that points to the presence of the Spirit

to be illuminated (inside, Anew)

because our dearest (and most sacred) treasure is not self, or our achievements, but it is our beautiful mysterious Creator made known “revealed” to us by the grace of the Son as our heavenly Father who sent the Spirit to earth to guarantee these promises (just as a ring of “engagement” for the Church Body as Bride of the eternal King) fully illuminated in the sacred writing of the Scriptures

and Today is also the Hebraic holiday of Shavuot (“Pentecost”) which reflects upon the gift of Torah being given to Moses and Israel at Mount Sinai thousands of years ago, also mirrored by the giving of the gift of the Spirit in Jerusalem just about 2,000 years ago (which to God is as 2 days of time, also being the timeframe of the Lord’s return to rule all of earth as rightful King)

and so we look to these things with expectant eyes

just like the stars of the night sky…

i am not going to back down from this faith & hope in Love.

[jackalopescruff]

um did u know i got a lil crush on u

Chevy Lumina APV

Chevy Lumina APV

[businessconsiderations]

Confessions

You train for and run a half marathon in the fall because you want to lose weight and you like running and that's your best idea to keep yourself on a schedule.

But you don't take your diet seriously enough--as far as optimizing for weight loss is concerned--in the early weeks when eating for weight loss is even possible. And by the time you do take your diet seriously, it's too late because you're running too many miles and hungry all the time and you don't lose any weight as you eat to optimize for running. And the half marathon comes and you underperform.

So your decide to run another half marathon in the winter, this time taking your diet more seriously. And it's fun for a while, you are doing more advanced workouts. But after feeling crappy after one of your long runs halfway through the training program, you do some internet reading and realize you haven't been fueling for racing and long runs very well (or at all). And you don't want to research optimal eating for racing, you want to lose weight. So you put your racing (not running) focus on hold and switch to focusing on losing weight.

You decide to lose 21 pounds in 90 days to get down to a weight that you can be happy with. And for about a week and a half you are doing OK. But then a travel weekend and the Super Bowl happens, and you weigh yourself the next day, and after 12 days of focusing on losing weight, the scale reads 0.4 pounds higher than it did when you started. All the while your wife talks to you about her struggling too, going as far as calling it a crisis. And you realize you have you priorities out of order, you need to focus on this with her. You need to do this together, even if it means putting your *morning* running habit on hold for a while because maybe you need to exercise with her in the morning.

Moments later you are driving your son to school, you search for music for the mood you're in and see a '00s playlist and tap "Clocks" by Coldplay. Which reminds of a weekend trip you took 21 years ago this month with your then girlfriend (now wife) to Nashville when you saw it'd be 40 degrees there and you needed to escape the cold and grey of February in Ohio.

You drove in your green '01 Chevy Lumina without a CD player, so you heard a lot of the same songs on the radio over and over. Besides that one, you remember "Traveling Soldier" by the Dixie Chicks and "I'm With You" by Avril Lavigne. So you play those songs this morning too. You feel introspective but happy. You were happy on that cold February weekend in Nashville. You stayed at a chain hotel, ate at chain restaurants and did nothing overly exciting except for basking in the sun of weather than would freeze the current Florida iteration of yourself. But you were happy, both of you were.

You are reminded of a time where you chose each other. You were in things together then, you are in this together now. Trying to go it alone on weight loss is not what you need. Your lives are busy and stressful. You need each other to accomplish big things

Usher played the Super Bowl halftime show. His music, while not necessarily your thing, was out around this time in your life a couple decades ago. So you listen his Confessions album and type the first draft of this blog post and get your thoughts together for your conversation with your wife later that you will have during a walk at soccer practice. You have some ideas about how to jumpstart things but probably need to do more listening than talking. And even though you know you will fail at that, you have to try.

And you do take that walk with your wife during soccer practice, but you can tell her head is not exactly in the right place, she hasn't had enough time to decompress from work. You talk too much at first, and she's not exactly on your wavelength yet. So then you listen more, but not before you tell her about your memories of that Nashville weekend. She talks about many things, not about any ambitious or new diet and exercise plans, but she talks.

You stay motivated. You start another blog.

[radracer]

93’ Chevy Lumina Z34

[juanmecanico]

undefined

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[noveldivergence]

@ellisnyeland tagged me in an "OC fun facts" post (thank you!), so here goes!!

Rules: "Make a list of fun facts about your OCs. Like a headcanon list, if you will! Except it's actually canon!"

I will be using the characters from APOSTATE as it is my current project!

Bell is canonically autistic. It's not mentioned in the book directly, but he, Vesper, Astrid, and several other characters throughout the novel are actually on the spectrum.

Luther was born in Missouri but spent most of his life in North Carolina. Despite this, dude doesn't have a Southern accent, more of a generalized American accent. His son Calvin has a Southern accent though, as does his wife, Wendy.

I mention it explicitly in the book for Bayani Garza, but more than one character in Apostate is trans. I realize now all of them are trans masc, but that will change in the other books (Blasphemer and Heretic).

Cicadas have an important part of Bell's narrative arc.

Not OC related, but the cursed-seeming Chevy Lumina is chapter seven is based on my mother's Lumina that hit four separate deer.

Open tag for anyone who wants to try it!!

[solradguy]

🂡🎤

Ooh, yeah!

We'll do a song that you might know, song about the Testament!

A song called "they've got the jack"!

Ready, ooh!

They gave Johnny their mind, then they gave him their body, ooh!

But he made them cry, and he made them scream!

Then he took a high oozin’,  and he curdled their cream!

I started collecting cassettes because the car I learned how to drive in was a '96 Chevy Lumina that only had a cassette player and a radio entirely dependent on how clear the weather was, and one of the first tapes I ever got was this super shitty $0.50 AC/DC tape (Who Made Who) that'd been sunbaked or something lol It plays waaayyy slower than it should even with the tension fixed. I still have it... I think. Brian Johnson and the gang blastin out Hells Bells like they're feelin kinda down about it lmao