#have to buy these giant fuck off vehicles even cars these days are fucking huge

[pom-seedss]

I am always terrified when I see an elderly person, who can barely stand swaying in the breeze, get behind the wheel of a modern pick up truck.

Like I watched this old man who couldn't even get in to the truck on his own get helped by a stranger into the vehicle and he just drove away in his 5,000-8,000 metal monstrosity.

And while I think no one should handle a machine that big without a more intense license I wasn't sure if this old man was even fit to drive a smaller car let alone one of these modern death machines.

But without a personal vehicle, I'm almost certain this guy wouldn't have been able to get around town at all. Because he was so shakey, because the bus schedules suck so bad, because they are often over crowded, because they take long circuitous routes. And no one deserves to be alienated and isolated just because they aren't able to navigate public transit (as it is now).

So I get people railing against the loss of independence that comes with removing personal vehicles from their lives. I get why the elderly even when they know they are impaired drivers will fight tooth and nail to keep their licenses, especially if they hadn't been disabled before they became elderly so have to deal with that change in status and ability. Like I emotionally understand where it comes from.

I still hate it when I come across scenes like that, because I know how dangerous it is to drive when you are not in fact able to do so (hi, it me, I was forced to drive long after it became unsafe for me to do so until I put my fucking foot down about it and decided to only drive in absolute emergencies). But I used to like, hate the individual drivers and I just can't anymore. Because it's a symptom of our car culture and our failures as a society to take care of each other.

It's a symptom of the wider problem of public transit being inadequate and often inaccessible. It is a symptom of our wider ableist society that says we all need to do things on our own instead of getting help from one another when we need it. It's a symptom of underfunding social services.

As far as powering public transport itself... which would still be an issue...I don't know the technical specifics well enough to figure out which of our current options is more energy efficient overall from minerals in the ground to rolling on the roads to be honest (though, both don't offer the long term solutions we need and they come at a real human and environmental cost of extraction)... but I will say that it doesn't matter how energy efficient we get if we just offset it with producing more and building things that need more energy to run, such as larger heavier cars that require more power even if the engine is more energy efficient.

It's so frustrating to me that people see electric automobiles as a green technology. They are anything but.

[sashi-ya]

Hiya ! If requests are still open for this week could I ask for Marco with a tiny fem!s/o with a size kink ??? Thank you so much and hope you’re having a great day 💕💕💕

Hi darling!! Of course! I hope you like it ♥ Thank u for your request and all of the support! Have a great weekend ♥ ~

NSFW ~ Marco x F! Tiny! Reader ~ You Are So Tight For Me ~

TW: NSFW. Size kink. Best friends to lovers. Sex at a party. Unprotected sex. Kind of rough sex.

WC: 1.7K

Tag list: @undercoverweeeb @mistyroselove

Marco and you have always been good friends, really good friends. You love him as much as he loves you, yet, you too never ever had any romantic or sexual interaction before. You are so close, people usually think you two are a couple, yet you aren’t. Still…

You > Oiiii pineapple birb, are you up for tonight’s party at Izo’s? Pineapple Birb > Oi Tontatta, yeah. Be ready at 8.

“Tontatta? What does he mean with “Tontatta”??... OH…” you say while throwing the phone to the bed and realizing he was mocking you by your short height. “You fucking giant pineapple…” you grunt as you enter the shower.

-----

The sound of Marco’s pick up horn announces he is already waiting for you outside. You take your bag and keys and head out.

“G’Night” you say, struggling to enter the vehicle. “Why the hell did he buy such a big car?” you think while stretching your arm to close the door. Of course, you fail in the first attempt so the doctor bends over you and closes the door. Marco is not huge but compared to you it’s pretty big. He pats your lap, strongly, laughing. “Why the hell are you so tiny?” he says. And you can’t help but squirm a little on the seat thinking about his huge hand over your thigh in a friendly way that you wish was with other intentions.

Rolling your eyes you tell him to stop making fun of you and start driving. “Fineee” he says and hits the gas. Music blasting suddenly makes you forget about the touch of his hand over your thigh and you two sing -shout- “Good 4 U” by Olivia Rodrigo.

Marco parks over Izo’s house. He descends the pick-up and helps you. “Jump to pappa” he says, laughing. You frown and burn holes into his eyes. “Shut up” you say as he snatches you from under your shoulders and puts you down on the street. You are surprised, he has never helped you like this. Still, you act annoyed, “Who does he think he is to treat me like this?” you think.

Walking towards the door, you can see from the window the shadow of a boy wearing a straw hat running around. “Luffy” Marco and you say, laughing.

The night goes by with alcohol and food, so much food. Sanji cooked the equivalent of three full restaurants just for you -specially Luffy-. Everybody is a little tipsy, and so do you. Kiku, Izo’s sister, comes up with the idea of watching a horror movie. Everybody, except Chopper and Usopp agreed. Law and Robin decided the title, and oh boy, that was gore…

The boys set up the projector, and everybody takes his place. Sanji and Zoro begin fighting because apparently, they were “too close to each other” on the couch. Everybody look at them thinking the same, “why the fuck do you sit together if you don’t want to be close?” but then all of you remember they haven’t still figured out how much they love each other. So, for the sake of the group’s peace, Marco suggests that you could sit over his lap, and so they will have more room.

You agree instantly and sit over Marco’s legs. Your back laying over his chest. You are so used to him that this doesn’t represent a problem for you. But then, Marco snakes his arms around your waist and presses you tight against his lap. “What is this boy playing tonight?” you think.

Somehow, the idea of feeling so tiny, so squeezed against his body is making your core feel a little… fancy.

The movie starts, and so far, you haven’t gotten scared until the murderer appears out of nowhere and stabs the victim from his back. You jump over Marco’s lap, so suddenly that he also gets scared. “Shh” he whispers in your ear. A shiver runs through your spine, as you feel Marco’s warm breath on your neck. “Sorry…” you excuse yourself. “It’s ok” he says, and rests his chin over your shoulder, squeezing your waist even tighter. You gasp and fidget your ass over his groin. “Fuck it, he wants me” you think. And indeed, you feel how a hard -huge- bulge grows under your bottom… All of a sudden, a different movie plays on your head, the idea of him fucking you with his huge member makes you wet, so wet.

You start to act scared with every little scene, and with that, a little hump over him that makes his member grow harder and harder. No one will notice, everything is dark, they are all into the movie. And with the last little jump, Marco has had enough “Stop doing that or I’ll have to fuck you right here in front of our friends” he whispers. You swallow, you wanted to turn him on, but you’ve never expected he would be so straightforward to you.

You slowly turn around your face, his nose touching your cheek. “Then fuck me if you dare” you tell him. A sexy side smirk draws on his lips, and his hands pressed your lower belly so your sex could feel perfectly how hard he is. You realize you are probably gonna have a big time when taking him all inside, and that fans the fire inside you. “I’m gonna go to the restroom” you tell him, with an inviting grin. He lets go of you, and you walk upstairs.

A few minutes later, the bathroom opens and Marco looks at you up and down, scanning you with lustful eyes. You sexily take your jacket off and let it fall to the ground. He closes the door behind him and walks steadily towards you.

His right hand squeezes your throat. His left leg in between your legs, lifting you up as your back is pressed against the cold tiles of the bathroom. “Come on, hump over my leg now” Marco says. You try to gasp for air and do as he tells you to. You rub your sex against his thigh, your legs hang at each side. He is so big compared to you…

He then grabs you by your waist and sits you over the bathroom counter. You spread your legs, so he can come closer. His mouth invades yours, lustfully, feral. This felt way better than the times you’ve dreamt of it.

When he is satisfied with the taste of your mouth, he lifts you up. You cross your legs around his waist and Marco carries you to the next room. Who knows whose room it is? but you don’t care… He throws you to bed, you lay on your back while he unbuttons his white shirt. You enjoy the show of the big man in front of you, your body begs to be destroyed, to be fucked.

“Marco…” you mumble. “Hm?” he asks. “Fuck me, rough” you tell him. “You sure? I’m afraid I’ll destroy your insides” he says while leaning over you, already taking off your pants. “That’s exactly what I want” you say and bite your lip. “You little whore” he says laughing and pounces into you.

He bites your neck; you carve your nails on his back. His huge hands take off your shirt, exposing your perfect body to him. “God, why are you so tiny? I’m gonna rip you” he says, with one of your nipples on his mouth. You moan as his tongue wets your breasts.

He then traces a path of wet smooches from your tits towards your sex. He licks and kisses your hot skin, and you squirm. Yet, you are anxious to see his member, you’ve been wanting to see that huge dick in front and inside you for so long…

A finger enters your sex. “Oh, even my finger feels tight inside you… I wonder how I am gonna fuck your little cunt?” he asks, and that turns you so fucking much, he has no idea. Then, the second finger in. Slowly, but surely you dilate enough -or so that’s what you thought- to receive his shaft.

“I think I can manage to fuck you like this” Marco says while lowers the zipper of his jeans. You swallow, you want it inside now. He finally flashes his eight inches dick to you. You widen your eyes and he notices it. “Are you sure?” he asks. “Fucking destroy me, Marco” you tell him, delighted by the huge member in front of your eyes.

“Sure, my dear” he says, and aligns the tip of his dick with your entrance. You are so wet that it slides perfectly and even if Marco tries to hold back not to hurt you, he can’t take it any longer. Soon, he is balls deep inside you. You whine, loud enough for the whole house to hear you. “Shhh, little whore” he shushes you and covers your mouth with his hand.

You feel your walls stretch, they burn, but you love it. A bulge forms in your lower stomach whenever he is deep inside you, you watch it and the image makes both of you extremely aroused. He is indeed destroying your tiny body, and you are enjoying every single moment of it.

And after intense thrusts, your insides clenches around him as you are ready to fall into an intense orgasm. “Mhh babe… you are so tight. Even after fucking you so much” Marco whines. You moan as the last deep plunges send you to climax heaven. You squirt on the base of his dick, so hard, relieving the pressure, biting Marco’s shoulder.

He does the same a few seconds after, and he does not back off until your insides get filled fully with his warm seed…

“So, are we dating now?” he finally speaks, while resting after an amazing fuck. “Well, yeah, finally” you tell him and laugh soundly. Everybody knew that, except you two…

“We should come back, don’t you think?” you say. “I hope they didn’t hear us…” Marco tells you kissing your forehead… ♥ ~

[hunterenough]

Life Changes

Chapter 3: Responsible Adults

Summary:  Dean gets a look at the way a responsible adult actually lives, and he really likes it. (Or maybe he just likes the responsible adult attached to the house he's looking at...)

Dean’s morning seemed to drag by, probably because he was looking forward to meeting with Castiel and checking out his potential new living situation. He’d let Benny, his lead technician, know that he might be a bit late coming back. He’d set the map on his phone for Castiel’s address, and Google had informed him that it was a four minute drive. Wouldn’t that be a nice change from his current half hour commute.

He pulled into the driveway at 12:04 exactly. The house was white with a dark grey foundation and trim. The walkway was shoveled, and everything looked well cared for. Dean climbed out of his car with his folder of check stubs and headed for the door. He knocked quietly before noticing the bell. Shit, do I ring the bell? Should I wait? What if he didn’t hear me knock. His thoughts were interrupted by the door opening.

Holy fucking hell. This guy, the guy he might be living with, was everything Dean had wet dreams about. His faded Led Zeppelin t-shirt stretched softly over his tone chest, highlighted his biceps. His hands, huge hands , cradled a steaming white mug with a bright yellow sun grinning from it. His dark jeans barely clung to his narrow hips, but they sure fit his muscled thighs well enough to make Dean drool. The face though, his face...perfect chiseled jaw, straight nose, fucking chapped looking red lips, all haloed by the most amazing sex hair he’d ever seen. But it was the eyes that held his attention. Intensely blue, hundreds of shades of blue , just staring at him.

Dean realized the guy was probably staring at him because he was fucking staring. Like a dumbass. He cleared his throat, and offered his free hand.

“Dean Winchester.” Smooth. At least his voice didn’t crack.

The man quirked his lip and shook the offered hand.

“Hello Dean. Castiel Novak. Nice to meet you. Come in.” He stepped back from the door to let Dean enter. He closed the door behind himself, and Cas gestured behind it. “You can take off your coat if you’d like.”

The entry was as orderly as the yard had seemed to be. A series of hooks hung behind the door, two covered by coats, with a shelf of totes above. Under it, stood a shoe rack, half filled with shoes, on a shallow drip tray which currently homed a pair of wet snow boots. Dean toed out of his shoes, glad that he’d opted for the steel toed shoes instead of his normal work boots this morning, and lined them up on the tray. He offered the folder he’d been holding out to the other man before taking his coat off and hanging it with the others. The folder found a home on the small side table, next to set of keys and a bowl of change. Another door, presumably to the garage, was just past the table.

“So, a tour? The main part of the house is pretty open.” Castiel gestured widely with his free hand.

“Sounds great. I love what I’m seeing so far.” It looked like all of the walls were the same soft blue-grey color with creamy white trim. It was practical, he supposed, for the big open space. It looked...peaceful.

Castiel stepped into the living room, and Dean noticed his bare feet sink into the plush carpet. There was a huge sectional, facing a gas fireplace with a widescreen TV mounted above it and floor to ceiling bookshelves on either side, both nearly full of books, movies, and photos, though again, everything looked well organized. An ottoman occupied the space in front of the couch, and two comfortable looking chairs formed the fourth corner. Overall, it looked like a great place to relax after work. Dean nodded.

“I don’t spend much time here, really, except on the weekends. By the time I get home from work, I’m ready for a shower and bed.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling. You said you have a funky schedule?”

“I work on the oncology ward at the hospital. The afternoon shift is 2- midnight.”

“Long days doing that kind of work.” Dean’s days were generally at least the same ten hours, but he didn’t have to deal with sick people. He’d been in hospitals enough to know that nurses worked hard, and often the work sucked.

Castiel shrugged. “Could be worse. A lot of hospitals run twelve hour shifts now, and I’ve got seniority, so I get the Monday-Thursday schedule. Always a three day weekend. It helps that I love my job.” He walked around the couch as he was talking, and Dean followed. “This is the dining room. I use it even less than the living room actually.”  He bypassed the long dark wood table and chairs to move into the kitchen. “When I do actually sit down to eat, I usually eat at the island.”

The kitchen was gorgeous. Dean imagined it could be featured in one of those home-decorator magazines he kept in the lobby for his customers. There were miles of granite counter top over dark wood cabinets. A bank of upper cabinets was balanced on one end by the wide stainless steel refrigerator, and on the other by the professional looking stove and hood. A half-full coffee pot was set next to the refrigerator, but very little else cluttered the space.

“I cook a little, but cooking for one sucks. I want to get better at it though, it’s one of my resolutions.” Dean moved further into the kitchen.

“My cooking is generally limited to scrambled eggs, toast, cold sandwiches, and spaghetti with jarred sauce, so you’re probably ahead of me already.” He pulled open a narrow drawer on the island. “I’ve got menus for every delivery and takeout place in town though.” He grinned as he waved down at the collection. “I promise not to touch anything on your side of the refrigerator though. You don’t have to worry about me stealing your leftovers.”

“Noted. Definitely an improvement over my current roommate. I’m lucky if he leaves anything for me to eat, even though I do all of the grocery shopping.”

“Ahh, I had an ex like that. Always hungry, but never bothered to actually buy food.” He shook his head.

Dean just grunted in agreement, and they moved into the hallway.

“Unfortunately, there’s only one full bathroom.” He opened the first door on the left. “Fortunately, it is very well equipped.”

“No shit!” Dean had stepped into the huge room. “Sorry, it’s just, I’ve never seen a bathroom like this outside of a fancy hotel.” The shower was walled in pristine white subway tiles, the open side a wall of glass. Towel hooks were mounted to the front. He could count at least four shower heads, plus the rain fall head above. One of the two shelves in the shower was half full of bottles, but the other was empty.

“It’s probably my favorite room. Sometimes, after a particularly bad day, I like to take a soak before bed.” He gestured at the deep soaker tub.

“Oh my God, that sounds awesome.” After a day hunched over his desk doing paperwork, his entire back felt like one giant cramp.

Cas nodded, then gestured at the double sink. “This sink would be yours.” He indicated the one by the toilet. “It has a medicine cabinet behind the mirror.” He popped it open showing several empty shelves before closing it again. “I keep my towels and washcloths in the bottom drawer, and cleaning supplies under my sink, but you’re welcome to the rest of the space.

Dean smiled at the idea that he’d already been accepted. “Given our schedules, I doubt we’ll have much trouble balancing bathroom times. Sounds like I’m out the door before you’re up and you’re gone before I get home.”

“Yes. Should make it easy to keep from fighting over the shower.” He grinned over his shoulder as he stepped back into the hall.

“This is a guest bathroom,” he opened the first door on the opposite side of the hall revealing a toilet and small vanity, “So we really only have to share with overnight guests.” He opened the next door. “And this is the guest room. It’s a little small, but occasionally one of my siblings comes in for the weekend to visit. You’re welcome to use it for guests as well, if you’d like. Either way, it’s probably a good idea to put in on the house calendar so we don’t end up double booking.”

The guest bedroom, though Castiel had called it ‘small’ offered a queen bed, a wide dresser, and a double closet. It was pretty much what he’d imagined renting. Dean shrugged. “My family lives pretty close, so I don’t really have anybody who would need to spend the night. Unless, I become clinically insane and offer to have my nephews overnight, but I really don’t see that happening.”

“They’d be welcome on the weekend. How old are they?” He’d pulled the door closed again and moved further down the hall.

“Three and five. We’re celebrating full potty training and no accidents now. Very exciting.”

“Oh, that is!” His grin was something else, and Dean couldn’t help but smile back as he opened the door to the next room. “This is the den.” He stepped inside. It was clearly a converted bedroom, similar in size to the guest room, with the same closet. A desk sat on each wall, one with papers stacked on top, each with a plush rolling chair tucked under it. In the corner by the closet, there were two wide arm chairs and a coffee table. Castiel had moved to the closet and swung it open. “I actually have several nieces and nephews myself, so there’s a stash of stuff in here just in case.” Dean noted several labeled totes, ‘coloring,’ ‘blocks,’ and ‘vehicles’ caught his eye before the door was closed and Castiel was moving back to the desk. He tapped at a whiteboard mounted above it. “This is the house calendar. Basically, I just use it to organize bills, etc. But if we’re having guests, that’s probably a good thing to note as well. And I keep a running grocery list. I thought maybe we could take turns picking up the standard household things, toilet paper, coffee, etcetera, but if you prefer, we can do it a different way.”

“No, that sounds fine. I usually shop on Saturday, unless something comes up in the meantime, and I don’t mind picking up whatever.”

They wandered back into the hall and to the final two doors, both open. “These are the twin masters.” He walked into the room on the right, indicating for Dean to follow. “This one is mine. Sorry, I haven’t gotten to laundry.”

The room was huge, with an unmade made king sized bed, a pair of dressers, and again, what looked like a very large closet. The mentioned hamper was tucked into the corner by the dressers, and that and the mussed bedding were about the only thing he’d seen in the house that was disorderly. Still, it was the little sitting area that caught Dean’s attention. Again he felt like he’d stepped into a high end hotel. A wide chair with a matching ottoman was tucked into the corner, flanked by bookcases, and a small rolling table was positioned over one arm holding a laptop.

“Judgement free zone.” Dean lifted his hands. “Besides, I was kind of starting to wonder if you kept a maid or something. The whole place is spotless.”

“It’s not too hard, since I rarely have time to mess it, but I do look forward to splitting the chores.”

“Is that the only reason you’re looking for a roommate? I mean I dated a nurse once, and he made as much as me at least.” Dean blushed a little, well, that hadn’t really been how he’d meant to bring up the fact that he was bi, but now that it was out, he supposed it would be good to know how Castiel would react.

“Honestly, that’s definitely part of it. I bought this house a couple of years back, with the intention of starting a family. My partner at the time, didn’t have the same ideas, which I found out when I found him in the hot tub with his assistants. Plural. I love the house, I really do, but it it’s just so big for just me. It gets...lonely.”

Dean huffed out a breath. OK, so he was either gay or bi himself, one thing less to worry about, but that sounded like a really rough breakup. “Man, I’m sorry. That really sucks. My last real breakup was pretty amicable, but I’d gotten pretty close to her kid, so that sucked. Still, at least you got to keep the house, and it really is awesome. I wound up in a shitty third floor walkup.”

“So did Fergus.” Castiel chuckled and led Dean back to the door. “This place was always mine. At any rate, this one would be yours. It’s the same as mine, just opposite. I didn’t ask, do you have furniture?”

The room looked even bigger empty. “I have some, but seeing your room, I think I might get some new stuff. I can call it doing something for myself and tag it as part of my resolutions.” He grinned at the other man. His bedroom set was nice enough, and he loved his memory foam mattress, but the idea of upgrading to a king sized bed, of actually having all of his bedroom furniture match, it was definitely appealing.

Castiel grinned. “I donated everything that was here when Fergus moved out. It was cathartic. New furniture for my fresh start. I wouldn’t mind going with you, it can be a little tedious on your own.”

“I have a feeling I don’t want to get on your bad side. I might come home to find all my crap on the front lawn.”

Castiel laughed out loud. “Don’t fuck your barely legal assistants in the hot tub, and we should be fine.” He turned and started back down the hall.

“I’d have bigger problems than you to deal with if I did that. Benny, my lead technician, has been married for a long time, and his old lady can be downright scary in that Stepford wife kind of way. Charlie, my left-hand girl, is a gold-star lesbian, and I’m pretty sure she’d kill to protect her record.” He was teasing, but both were facts he didn’t want to ever test.

“One less thing to worry about then. Emptying the hot tub is a bitch.” He opened a door in the entryway that Dean hadn’t noticed before, and flipped on a light before heading down a flight of stairs.

The basement, at least the half that he could see from the bottom of the stairs, was finished, and as well maintained as the upstairs, if a lot more industrial looking. At the bottom of the stairs, the laundry area occupied a length of the wall, with a matching high-efficiency washer and dryer set, a deep wash sink between them, a long stainless steel counter for folding, a bar for hanging clothes, and wall mounted drying rack and ironing board.

“I usually do my laundry on Sunday afternoon, but I don’t mind negotiating that. I could probably do it Friday while you’re at work.”

Dean shook his head. “No worries. I like to do mine in the morning, usually Saturday, but sometimes I slack until Sunday. I can have it out of the way by noon, no problem.”

Castiel nodded and gestured to the rest of the room. “The basement is sound proofed, so you don’t have to worry about making noise down here while I’m sleeping.” The rest of the room was clearly used as a home gym. The floor was covered in thick rubber mats, and there was a treadmill, an elliptical, a weight bench with a rack of weights, and an exercise ball. The other half of the room was clear except for a small tote, though there was a TV mounted on the wall surrounded by several full length mirrors. “You’re welcome to use any of the equipment of course. I practice yoga, so there’s blocks and straps and stuff in the tote if you’re interested. Otherwise, there rest of the basement is mostly unfinished. It’s sealed, but that’s about it. You can use it for storage if you want. I have Christmas stuff stuck in there.” Cas shrugged. “I guess that’s about it. Hot tub is on the back deck, the yard is fenced in and completely private. Oh, the garage. You run an automotive shop, I’m sure you’re interested.”

“You say that like you aren’t.”

“Well, I enjoy not having to scrape the ice off of my windows.” It was said with a small smile. He led them back upstairs and to the other door in the entry.

“This is the door I usually use.” He pulled it open and stepped down into the garage. There was a blue SUV parked in the spot closest to the door, with the area in front of the other door empty. The garage was deeper than he’d expected, probably big enough to park two cars lengthwise, though the area in front of the SUV was occupied by a large work bench. “I don’t really use anything in here except the freezer.” He indicated an upright freezer near the door. “You can use the workbench if you want. Unfortunately, the snowblower died in the middle of that last big storm, so we’re stuck shoveling.”

“Or, you tell your mechanic housemate that the snow blower’s broken, and he fixes it.” He was grinning like a clown, he was sure, but the place was perfect, close to work, amazing space, great housemate and a heated garage . Seriously, could it get any better?

“So you like it?”

“Dude, it is perfect. I’m not convinced you’re not a serial killer it’s so nice and the rent is so affordable, but at this point, I think I might be willing to help you bury a body or two for a chance to live here.”

“Awesome. You’re the first person that’s answered the ad that I think I’d actually like to share a house with.” He glanced at his watch “I really need to get ready for work, but I can give you a copy of the lease to read over, and you can text me with questions. I can’t always answer right away, but I usually get a few minutes here or there. When were you looking to move in?”

“Honestly, unless you ask for my firstborn as deposit, I’ll put notice in tomorrow, so within the next two weeks if that’s OK?”

Cas was nodding. “Anytime. We can work out the details this weekend.” They’d moved back to the front door.

“Thanks so much for showing me this place, Castiel. This is exactly what I was hoping for.”

Cas glanced at the contents of the folder Dean had given him earlier, and added a sheaf of papers, and waited until he’d put his shoes and coat back on before handing it to him. “My friends call me Cas, and since I’m looking forward to sharing a house with you, I’m hoping you’ll fall into that category.” He offered Dean a hand to shake.

“Can’t wait Cas. I’ll shoot you a text if anything comes up with the lease, otherwise, I’ll plan on giving you a call Friday after work. Sound good?” He didn’t really want to leave, now that he was here, but he had to get back to work as well. He took the offered hand, and shook if firmly.

“Sounds good. Have a great afternoon Dean.” He moved to hold the door open.

“You too Cas.” He waved as he headed to his car.

He was actually looking forward to canceling the other appointments he’d made. No way could he get a better deal than this.

More Notes:

Three chapters in, and they finally meet. Can you actually imagine a meeting between these two that doesn't involve some kind of awe on Dean's part?

P.S. The description of Cas was very inspired by this magnificent piece of art (https://www.redbubble.com/people/jackiedeeart/works/35675771-sunshine?c=408643-supernatural). That's a redbubble link because I firmly believe everyone needs this in their house.

P.P.S Sorry about the gratuitous amounts of house description. I'm hoping it will help in the coming chapters to know your way around.

[francisthegreat]

Holy shit y'all.

First of all, came home to horrifying news of what happened in Charlottesville. Absolutely heartsick and if anyone knows of a way I can help, please let me know. Second, LET! ME! TELL YOU! About this trip. So. Trip starts off fine - car jams to the airport, rocking out and having a great time, plenty of time for our flight. Then, we get to the airport and go through security and I get stopped. I'm thinking, oops I left a water bottle or something, whatever. I ask if everything is okay and take a step forward, security dude throws up both hands and yells "MA'AM PLEASE DO NOT MOVE." I'm like ... uh ok Then he calls like ten of his friends over, I'm swarmed by TSA people, they call the security manager guy or whatever. I'm freaking out a /little/. They're ALL looking at me, one guy takes my ID and starts WHISPERING my ID information into his walkie talkie and I'm like ????? I look over at my partner and I'm like shrugging and the security guy is like so fucking jumpy like "MA'AM WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO" Walkie talkie guy is still talking and over his walkie I hear this crackled "no priors" ??? OF COURSE I HAVE NO PRIORS WTF turns out I left my nightstick in my purse but really yall? I'm 105 pounds. I'm not going to storm 10 security guys with a weapon I don't even have in my hands. So they confiscate it after asking if I was law enforcement (???no) and giant security man is like "I have a feeling you'll just buy another" like no shit dude we just talked about this of course I'm going to replace the thing that makes me feel safer but whatever. So, after that I lose my ticket. Turns out fine I make it on anyway. THEN THEN. The wild shit starts. We get there, set up camp, hang out and we are drunk af and it's time to go to bed cause we have some serious white water in the morning to rest up for. I'm falling asleep and I get woken by a frantic person in camp going WHATS THAT LIGHT all the sudden it's impossible to breathe. Smoke is everywhere. Eyes, throat, nose, you name it. Other side of the mountain across the river is lit up from the back at first, then over the mountain comes this ROARING ASS WILDFIRE. I mean huge. It's the desert and it's fire season and it's insane. It looks like the gateway to hell. Flames are like 40 feet tall, it's getting hotter and I'm panicking but it's still across the river so everyone seems cool with it. Emergency vehicle from the Reservation comes up like "we have an evacuation shelter you guys should come, no one is on this fire. It's a low priority we have some others in residential areas" So. We are at camp. Drunk. In the desert. In the middle of the night. And a wildfire is growing in strength like, feet away from us across the riverbank. Wind picks up a little. It starts RAINING embers down on the camp like fucking Pompeii. My drunk ass is crying. Of course. And frantically packing up my shit after jumping out of bed while getting an ash bath. Our party is finally like FUCK IT LETS GET IN THE BOATS AND GO So we throw all our shit in the rafts, we jump in, we take the fuck off, its past midnight and we are rafting white water IN THE DARK, headlamps barely work from all the smoke, everyone is just paddling and praying Thankfully the RAGING HELL INFERNO lit our way to the next campsite where we just collapsed onto the ground and didn't even set up camp we just slept scattered everywhere Anyway the next day we evacuated so That's what happened on my trip

[adistantstarblog]

Lullaby of the Giant Five

Rated Mature: for language, suggestive content & mentioned accidental death | Words: 7754 | Chapter: 1 of 2

NOTE: Continuations of this fic including a 3 part 27,140 word sequel can be found on my patreon at patreon.com/distant star with the tag Giant Five AU Poll Fic

Preview: 

The basket was getting closer to the top of the wheel, Clarke realized suddenly. This made her limbs jelly with nerves just a bit.  But she thought quickly. Because suddenly in front of her Lexa seemed nervous too and Clarke had a feeling it wasn’t about the idea of falling and she wanted a way to make her less nervous so she spat the first thing she thought of out, “I was born in prison.” 

Arcadia.

Population 6783.

Otherwise known as ‘that Prison Town’ since the state’s penitentiary was the main attraction with a close second being the drag racing events held a mile from the city limits every once in a while. But really those races were only known to the locals.  Most of the year nobody really thought of Arcadia.

But Clarke had grown up here.  So she knew that once every year the entire Country was looking right at her little hometown. Because once every spring Arcadia shook off the manacles of the title ‘that Prison Town’ and became ‘the Home of the Lullaby of the Giant Five’ instead.  

It was a five day and five night music Event, hence the name, ‘the Giant Five’, and singers of every kind, every age and every genre flooded across ten smaller stages between the food and vendor venues of the massive festival grounds; all vying for the closing show spot on the main stage at the end of each night.  Thousands and thousands of people would camp in tents and r.v.s, in fifth-wheels, campers and trucks, vans and cars or even just sleeping bags and each year she had seen at least one or two boats, in equally massive fields around the festival grounds.  

The truth was two parts - Arcadia was such a tiny town what else were they going to do with all that vacant land except for farm it.  The second part of this truth was that Gustus, the person who owned this land, was a very rich man now.  Instead of selling out one year when Clarke had only been a little kid he had renamed the place ‘Radiation Ranch’ and tossed his bid as a host to the Giant Five people and now, unlike many other ranchers that fought weather and pests from destroying their crops, Gustus’ ‘crop’ was people. 

And it came in rain or shine, year after year after year.  They came by the thousands in those r.v.s’ and campers, fifth wheels and trucks and vans, and cars and any kind of vehicle crowding the streets of the little town, causing lines at the gas station and lines at the grocery store, causing lines of cars just trying to get in extending for two miles each direction outside the town’s city limits.  They came by the thousands in those r.v.s’ and campers, fifth wheels and trucks and vans, and cars and any kind of vehicle crowding the streets of the little town, causing huge lines at the gas station and lines at the even for a parking spot at the grocery stores.

By the end of the week, eighty-seven thousand fans could easily be there.

And just like the fans; year after year after year Clarke kept going to support Gustus and see what kind of show he put on.  Sitting in the heavy lines of traffic on her way out of the festival grounds to take Raven her lunch she had forgotten that morning at their campsite Clarke couldn’t help but smile in anticipation.  Tonight was the fourth night.  Her group of friends was planning on catching all the shows if they could but there were five of the ten shows competing today for the closing show rights on the main stage on the last night that they wanted to see the most.  The first of them being a band called ‘The Lost Power House’ which was the opening act of the day. They had a few good songs in the last year which had grabbed them a competition slot on night three.  They were followed by an even lesser known band called ‘Muddy Booty’ that had been driven to this competition by the fact that the one known song they had was such a huge hit last summer that it played on the radio every two or three hours and people actually got sick of it to the point where there were several parodies mocking it.  Muddy Booty though was followed by ‘Lux’ a hot new band from California that was very quickly climbing up the music charts. There was also band in there called ‘Beware of the Annoying Ravens’ competing today that was climbing the charts because of their darker-themed songs.  But band ‘Grounders’ were the ultimate draw and the reason why everyone was piling through the gates that night.  

Even after finally making it out of Radiation Ranch driving was slower than usual.  The streets of her hometown were crowded with cars trying to get to stores to buy beer or to get to the gas station to fill generators up.  The sidewalks were also full of people trying to sell merchandise or scalp tickets, or just standing in gaggles like flamingos on corners with their favorite band's paraphernalia or holding up signs that said things like ‘Honk for Grounders!” with many hashtags listed under it.bands paraphernalia or holding up signs that said things like ‘Honk for Grounders!” with many hashtags listed under it.

Alot of people honked.

And while she saw some fans out with signs for the other bands.  The streets seemed swarmed with ‘Grounders’ 

Clarke pulled into the drive of Raven’s auto repair shop at last and got out of her car.  She caught sight of Raven’s black ‘Rooting for Ravens’ banner with stark silver letters and silver bird shapes hanging over the open door of her garage and had to smile at the sight of it and at her friend’s defiance to go against the flow. Gustus really had no idea how big of a party he turned the town into until the local mechanics even got in on the fun.  

Clarke grabbed Raven raven’s brown paper lunch sack from the passenger seat and closed the car door.  She walked into the shop but didn’t see her friend at first.  Instead, she saw several cars that were lined up to be worked on, each in a different state of repair. The closest being a faded red Corvette.  Then she heard the clanging sound of a tool hitting the concrete and Raven swear, “fuck!  Ow! Fuck!…”

“Raven?” Clarke asked carefully, stalling now, lunch bag in hand.

“Yeah…” Raven’s voice answered, if painfully, from somewhere in the vicinity of the floor under the faded red Corvette Clarke had stopped behind.  Clarke smirked and went around the corner of the car and saw her friend’s boots and lower half of her legs sticking out from under it.

“What you doing under there?”

“Fixing this… piece of sh …car, Clarke, what does it look like?”

“Well yeah, I know that but…” she sighed.  She wouldn’t understand the shop-talk completely anyway if Raven dove too deep into the answer. So she just smirked, stepped over the pair of boots, and set the brown lunch bag down on a table in the corner that was supposed to be reserved for eating but was still always filled with tools, bolts, nuts, a laptop and car parts.

“What are you doing here?” Raven asked finally.  Clarke heard another tool drop and Raven curse again, “shit!”

“Really,” Clarke asked in concern. She had no idea what was in this part of the car but she was pretty sure that whatever was there could not be causing this much curse words to be escaping her friend half-buried by car, “Raven, what are you doing?”

“Starving to death apparently from leaving my lunch at the camp.” Raven answered, “Listen, Clarke, I am up for chatting you know this but shouldn’t you be at the show or something?  Or the campsite watching the stupid shit people do in the campsites all around us? Like the ones beating on that propane tank valve with a hammer last night?”

Clarke smirked.  She leaned back against the table and folded her arms, “I brought your lunch.”

There was silence for a few seconds.  She could almost hear Raven considering this.

Then the rolling board whooshed out from under the Corvette and her friend appeared and sat up, “you did?” 

Clarke grabbed the lunch bag from where it was on the table and held it up like a prize, “right here.”

“I could kiss you right about now, you know that, right?” Raven pushed to her feet.  She came over took the bag with greasy hands and sat at the table and started opening it--

“Raven?” Clarke interrupted, a little appalled at what her friend was about to do.

Raven stopped and looked up, “Yeah?”

“Hands,” Clarke answered, looking over toward the sink a short distance from her in the counter.

“Oh yeah, right, um…” Raven got up, walked past her as though it was no big deal and went to the sink, “hands.” she muttered.  Then turning on the water she added, “just so hungry I almost forgot to wash up.

“You did forget Raven,” Clarke pointed out with a smirk.

Raven looked over at her, rolled her eyes, smiled back though, turned back to washing and shut off the water.  She turned again and Clarke tossed her one of the clean towels on the counter near where she was standing.  Raven caught it, “you might have stopped my sandwich from tasting like motor oil.”

Clarke just smiled, “probably wouldn’t have tasted so great.”

Raven went back to her lunch, sat and opened the bag.  She took out the plastic wrapped ham and cheese sandwich and started eating it.  After two bites she asked, “Griff do you think you can do me a favor?”

“Of course,” Clarke answered, “what’s up?”

“Get me a soda?” Raven glanced over at the Pepsi machine in the corner.

“Uh, sure,” Clarke answered.  She started digging in her pockets for change as she walked toward the machine.

“Forget about money,” Raven spoke up from behind her, “punch the button twice and kick the bottom and it will give you the soda you want.” 

Having just arrived at the machine Clarke looked over at her friend in question. Raven was chewing her sandwich and swallowed, “what, am not about to pay for sodas in my own shop. That’s for paying customers,” she grinned and took another bite of her sandwich, “well, now you don’t have to either, I guess.”

Clarke rolled her eyes in response.  Of course Raven would rig the soda machine.  She hit the button to select a can of Pepsi twice and kicked the machine.  

Sure enough, the can of soda dropped out. Clarke grabbed it and took it back to the table and put it in front of her friend, “there you go.  One favor complete.”

“Oh,” Raven swallowed the last of her sandwich, grabbed the soda and opened it.  The can hissed and then popped as she did and Raven swallowed several gulps of the cola down before speaking again, “that’s not the favor.”

“It’s not?”

“Nope.”

“So what’s the favor.”

“I need you to go on a date with someone at the festival tonight,” Raven answered drinking more of the cola down.  Hearing that made Clarke’s eyes widen quickly, “a date?”

“Yeah, a date Clarke,” Raven said with a grin as she set the can down, “she’s a cute girl, from what Anya says, I think she said brunette.”

“A cute girl?” Clarke was almost choking over her own breath from shock--

“Right, yeah.  Anyway, I need you to take her out on a date today because Anya won’t leave her to sit all alone at a festival.”

“Wait, who’s Anya?”

“The one I want to take on a date tonight.  She and her friend are apparently in town for the Grounder’s show tonight and the car they were in broke and I got called to go get it and fix it.  Happens to be that piece of…” she nodded at the red Corvette, “..car.. right there.  1966 Corvette Stingray.  Amazing Year for cars.”

“Wait, what?” Clarke asked.  Staring at Raven, “you want me to go on a date?  You know I haven’t been on a date in--”

“Way too long.” Raven took a deep drink and looked up at her over the edge of the soda can with hopeful eyes, “Besides, it's all already set up.  All you have to do is show up.”

Clarke sighed deeply because of that hopeful look and she knew she was caving, “fine,” she said, “okay.” she couldn’t argue. Not if it meant alot to Raven.  She could go on a blind date at this festival, “where am I supposed to meet her?”

“Ferris wheel at six.”

Clarke felt her body lock up, “Ferris Wheel?” She must have stopped breathing.  She must have stared for a second longer than she should have at her friend because Raven lifted an eyebrow at her and stopped mid-slurp of her soda.  Clarke explained, “look, Raven, I’d love to but--”

“Yeah, it's a damn Ferris Wheel, I know. It goes up high.” Raven started strongly.  Then she sighed and set the can down, sighed and said more gently, “look, I know it's hard. Especially after what happened. But you don’t have to go on the wheel okay?  Just …just meet her there? Take her out for ice cream?  I hear she and Anya have to work so it's only a couple hours? Do it for me? I haven’t had a date now in months.”

“But you really went for a Ferris Wheel set up?” Clarke asked, trying to shake off the surge of fear that filled her stomach, “that’s so ..shopworn.” 

“Shopworn?”

“Unoriginal?”

“Says the artist, of course.” Raven countered, “and for a minute here I thought you were talking about my shop.  You’ll go?”

“Sure.” Clarke answered finally, “but how do I know it’s her?” 

“Oh, her name.  Her name is Lexa.”

Lexa. The pretty name caught in Clarke’s brain. Lexa--

“I guess you hold up a sign?” Raven was still answering, Clarke barely heard her because her mind was thinking the girl’s name again and again but finally what Raven was saying faded in, “start calling her name? Ask people passing by. Look, she’s a pretty brunette called Lexa, that's what Anya said.  How you do it is up to you.  I’m just Cupid,” Raven smirked finally, “and the messenger.” 

“Right. Right.. I got this.” Clarke said. 

-=-

The bus was parked on their reserved lots behind the stage for the festival.  It was good it was.  Because Lexa wasn’t sure if it was moving she’d even be able to stay on her feet right now with what Anya had just said. As a result, she was staring at her older sister as though she had suddenly sprouted horns and a tail, “you can’t be serious!”

“Perfectly serious.” Anya dared to look her up and down as though she was the one that was crazy.

“At the Ferris Wheel at six?” Lexa resisted looking at her watch.

“Yeah, that gives you two hours with the girl then you get back here, get cleaned up, get your make-up on and we go out and play songs and win this thing to have the closing act tomorrow night.”

“But the Ferris Wheel, Anya?” Lexa lamented getting to her problem with this, “what kind of impression is that?  Could you not think of anything more original such as …I don’t know, maybe the Bungee Ball or maybe the rock climbing wall at the very least?” 

Anya raised an eyebrow at her and put her hands on her hips, “I could have made it the merry-go-round.”

“Yes, yes, you could have,” Lexa realized suddenly, “and I could just skip town.”

“You’d really dodge the Giant Five, even just performing here tonight not to mention winning the closing act --just to not have to meet a girl?”  Anya looked her over then after a second and Lexa realized from the change in the air around them that her sister might suddenly have realized what the heart of the issue was.  When Anya’s lips parted, when she blinked in realization and folded her arms across her chest Lexa knew she had and intentionally looked away. But Anya still said it, “you’re afraid she’s going to be here?”

Lexa fought the urge to roll her eyes by closing them instead and leaning back into the counter behind her, “there is a chance.” She rubbed the back of her neck, turned around and sank into the space opposite of the counter that functioned as her single bed, “it's a big festival.”

“It's a Huge festival.”

“I know--”

“Costia is a music producer---”

“I know, Anya, I know.” Lexa grabbed her pillow and put it over her face.

Anya’s voice reminded, “She said you would never make it in this industry.” 

“I know, Anya.” Lexa almost growled out from under the pillow.  She could remember the humiliating day that Costia had left.  She could remember all the words she used taunting her dream--

Anya grabbed the pillow away from her face and threw it somewhere behind her into the, “and yet you’re here. At Giant Five. In spite of her. Getting ready to burn down that stage tonight with all your songs she laughed at.”

Lexa felt herself nodding slowly, watching her sister.  Anya.  God, she loved her sister. Especially at times like this.  Lexa had a feeling where this was going so she heaved a sigh, “I remember.”

“So she might be here? She probably is, so what?” Anya asked.  Lexa just nodded weakly because she thought this was Anya’s point, to forget about her lover.  But it wasn’t.  Instead, Anya reached down and grabbed her hand and pulled roughly her to sit.  Then she let her hand go and motioned with a finger back in the direction she threw the pillow, “so you go out there and you show her everything she’s lost.  And not just your music.”

Lexa smiled at her sister, softly, and shaking a head at her tough love, “I will go on your blind date, Anya.”

“Good.” Anya nodded at her.  Then her eyes drifted over the white tank top and gray sweat pants Lexa had on before finally asking hesitantly, “so what are you going to wear?”

Lexa blinked.  She hadn’t considered that “I ..” she began.

“I would suggest, something besides that.”

“Of course not this,” Lexa answered, glaring at Anya. 

Anya shrugged and stepped back, “and I would also suggest,” she said, rolling her eyes around the interior of the bus to implicate the entire festival environment, “something that doesn’t scream ‘rock-star.’ But I think if you don’t wear your trademark war-paint you might survive the crowds long enough to maybe kiss the--”

“Anya.” Lexa protested.  

“She’s a blonde.”

“Anya…”

“Yes?”

Lexa sighed out, “what is her name?”

“Claire, I think. No, wait.  It wasn’t a common name for a girl.  Colin? No,” Anya scrunched up her face a little, “Clarke. That was it. Her name is Clarke.”

“Clarke?” Lexa found herself trying the name out, “so, this blind date thing? How do I know it's her?”

“I don’t know,” Anya shrugged, “she’s a blonde? There can’t be too many blonde girls out there named Clarke hanging out at the Ferris Wheel can there?”

She had a point.  Still, Lexa flopped back down onto her bed, “you’re something else, Anya, you know that right? Besides,” she asked, realizing something suddenly.  Realizing suddenly this was not a normal behavior for her usually even more socially-allergic-than-herself sister, “what is with you? What is all this you wanting me to go on a date all the sudden?”

“Oh,” Anya answered as though it was a passing thought because she had to keep her cold image up even if Lexa knew better and saw the hint of a smile on her sister’s lips. That was enough for Lexa to sit up and get hopeful for her sister again, “tell me.  You have a date tonight too, don’t you.”

“That is actually not any of your business.” Anya got casually defensive and Lexa smirked because she knew she hit the nail right on the head.  Anya went on, “so, get up and get dressed.  Maybe a white tank, jeans and our jacket to cover that tattoo--”

Lexa looked down at her tattoo on her arm. She grunted because it was true.  Alexandria Woods was becoming known for it, “I think I can dress myself, Anya.”

“Okay, then.  I am going.  Get up. Get ready,” Anya answered, “see you at eight.” she turned then and left the bus.  Only after she had did Lexa look at her watch.

Five-thirty.

She sat up.  She had to hurry.

With a grunt and realizing Anya knew she wasn’t going to have time to be picky, she started pulling the things her sister hand suggested on. 

-=-

Since it was a music festival it probably wasn’t ideal to go out in a dress.  Clarke wore her baby blue ‘Grounders’ band t-shirt instead. 

It was also six on the dot and she was standing in front of crowds around and passing by the Ferris Wheel trying to look for a brunette maybe looking for her but not finding anyone.  No one was stopping and the corny sounding carnival music from the rides close by was very nearly drowning out the songs that Muddy Booty was playing because the stage they were on was too far away.  

At a minute past six Clarke held her ground.  A kid tripped in front of her.  She helped him up.

At five minutes past six, she started thinking she might be stood up.

At six minutes past six, she started to turn a slow circle where she was just to be sure she wasn’t missing a cute brunette girl by Raven’s description.

At six minutes and thirteen seconds past six, the crowd parted behind her and she saw a quiet looking girl with that description standing with her back against the steel rail of the attraction, looking around as though she too were scanning the crowds doubtfully. She had on a white shirt and Grounder’s jacket, her brown hair loose and blowing slightly in the wind. 

Clarke felt her heart skip hard inside her.  She also felt that sudden rush of anxiety slam into her and make her legs want to give out from under her.  What if that girl was her? 

Crowds passed between them.  Clarke started to panic.  She started to move forward through them.  But then when she came out the other side the girl was gone.  Clarke felt her shoulders drop suddenly as she stood there staring at where the girl had been--

“Clarke?”

Clarke turned to find the cute girl right behind her, “Lexa?”

Lexa suddenly looked relieved as Clarke felt and a nervous smile crept across the girl’s face, “Hi.”

“Hey,” Clarke returned.  Lexa from a distance was beautiful.  But up close, combined with her voice, she was truly making Clarke’s heart skip, “I um.. nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you, Clarke.” Lexa answered. And that smile was there again, the shy one that was barely hiding on soft lips that made Clarke want to stare even more than she already was staring, the smile that was more in the sparkle of green eyes.  Then Lexa was extending her hand forward and slowly as though her brain was full of clouds Clarke realized she was supposed to shake it.  She reached up and gripped Lexa’s fingers.  Lexa officially introduced, “I’m Lexa.” 

“Clarke,” Clarke replied.  She smiled at this girl.  Lexa seemed so polite and even sweet but there was also something that was very …shut down? about her? And it wasn’t that Lexa wasn’t outgoing.  She had been the one to speak first and even offer her hand first.  At that thought, Clarke realized she was still gripping Lexa’s warm fingers in hers.  She let them go fast and put them behind her back and felt a blush crawling up her neck, “some friends we have, yes?” she offered as a way of small talk.  This was also a topic they could both agree on even if they knew nothing else about each other.

“Right, I know.” Lexa’s smile actually flashed over her beautiful face as she pushed her hair back over her shoulder, “Anya’s got it in her head that I need to date more.”

Clarke snorted softly, “funny, Raven thinks I do too.  Figure that,” she added, “they put two and two together and--”

“Set us up?” Lexa finished with an amused twitch of her eyebrow.  Clarke shrugged softly at her and offered a small smile, “Yep.”

“That’s just Anya.” 

“Raven too.” Clarke replied quickly, “I’m not complaining though. Spend a couple hours with a beautiful girl?” she gave a quick smile and a shrug.

“I’m not complaining either.” Lexa agreed.

“So,” Clarke’s heart was racing. She knew it was going to get more awkward than it already was building to be here any second if she didn’t find something to do.  Looking around she caught sight of the Ferris Wheel and couldn’t quite believe what she was about to do just for a chance to be with this girl, “want to ride it?” she asked, looking up up up at the wheel.  Shit, shit, shit, Clarke ..what are you doing? The annoying little voice started in her head.  She bit her teeth together in her mouth to silence it and looked back over at Lexa to see she was looking up at the wheel too.  Lexa asked, “you have ride tickets?” she looked at Clarke, “I can buy us some.”

Oh wow. Chivalrous. Clarke’s insides did a little nervous quiver as a result that suddenly she was going to mess up around this beautiful girl or maybe ..maybe not be able to even get in that dreaded thing but still she smiled, “you are my date.  I would buy them.”

“But you are my date too.”

“True,” Clarke countered, “but I already have some.” Clarke did not really ride rides. Raven had given them to her. 

“Ah.”

“So, shall we?” Clarke asked.

Lexa looked again at the wheel in question, “sure.” 

“Okay.” Clarke turned.  So did Lexa.  She pulled in a deep breath as they walked toward the rail around the attraction that she hoped the other girl would not hear. There was a short line for it as they stood there Clarke looked over at the girl next to her and realized the pounding of her heart was about way more than just going on this ride.  Clarke felt like she was shaking apart like a leaf inside. But Lexa was beautiful.  Lexa was gorgeous actually and Clarke found herself staring at the other girl’s soft pink lips--

“Your turn miss.” the voice of the rides attendant called to her suddenly.  It seemed too loud and Clarke jerked a little bit, called back from where her thoughts had traveled to. She looked ahead to see the line had cleared in front of them and she was holding up the people behind them.  Quickly and before she could talk herself out of it and without thinking about it she grabbed Lexa’s wrist in her clammy hand and tugged her forward toward the attendant, “we’d like to go together?” 

He nodded.  He looked over at the ride as the next empty basket came around.  Then he looked at her, “two tickets.”

Clarke dug for the tickets from her jeans pockets and handed a rumpled pair of them over to the guy.  He counted them as though he couldn’t tell there were two tickets, dropped them into the brightly colored collection box, and then waved them past him.

Clarke started up the short flight of stairs and onto the attraction’s loading space.  She distracted herself from what she was doing by smiling at Lexa who was two steps behind her before she was ushered into the ride by another ride attendant into an empty red ferris wheel basket and sat down.  With trembling fingers, she grabbed for the seat belt and was quickly clicking it in place as Lexa slid into the basket and sat beside her.  The attendant leaned in, “make sure you have your safety belts on at all times,” he started. Then as if he realized she already had he looked specifically at Lexa then stood back and stayed there as though waiting.  Glancing across at her, Lexa quickly put her belt on too. Satisfied the attendant stepped back again and pulled a lever and the basket they were in moved up and back one spot so the next people could board.

“This is really nice, Clarke,” Lexa said to her with honesty in her pretty voice.

This caused Clarke to look at her and the look of sincerity and happiness on Lexa’s face made her forget she was hanging from a basket gradually going higher and higher with each passenger that climbed onto it into the sky.  It made her forget anything.  Even breathing.  And then she felt her heart give a tiny thump at the little smile Lexa gave her and that made Clarke smile too, “we might,” she began to speak, “we might have to thank our obnoxious friends.” 

“I think they thought we needed babysitters,” Lexa smirked, “but yes.” 

The ride went up just a little more, “Oh it will so go to their heads.” Clarke said anyway.  She was crazy.  She knew she was suddenly.  What was she doing up on this ride just to be with this pretty girl for a minute?  A beautiful girl that quite honestly she knew she was on this ride for because she suddenly didn’t want her out of her sight?  Even if it meant going up on rides like these that went a half mile into the air?  That minute though the ride must have reached capacity because suddenly it started working and rotating and they were climbing higher and higher constantly now into the sunset sky. The festival grounds, the stages and the campsites all around it spread out on each side into the distance.  And Clarke’s heart suddenly felt utterly and strangely calm, “this is amazing.” she realized. 

“It is,” Lexa answered.  She looked across as if noticing or the first time the shirt Clarke had on, “you like the band?” her eyes looked up at Clarke’s almost hopefully. 

Clarke looked down at her shirt, “Grounders? They’re just awesome.”

“Favorite song?”

“Winds of Time.” Clarke answered, “you know alot of people don’t really know what that song is about?”

Lexa looked interested, “what do you think it's about?” 

“That love eternal.  That people meet in eternal cycles if they are supposed to.”

Lexa smiled at her, “I think you might be right.  But alot of people think it's the opposite, that it's about loosing friends to time.”

“Yeah, my foster sister Octavia is one of them.  But you know what?”

“What Clarke?” Lexa asked, her eyes bright, her tone curious.

Clarke shrugged and said carefully, “I think when Woods wrote that song, she meant for it to be that way? So people took from it what they needed to?”

This for some strange reason made Lexa inhale deeply before saying, “you might be right.” She changed the subject, “so, we talked about Woods. We talked about friends.  We talked about Grounders.  Tell me something about you, Clarke and then.” she seemed to be preparing herself as though for a big reveal as she said, “then I will tell you something about me.”

The basket was getting closer to the top of the wheel, Clarke realized suddenly. This made her limbs jelly with nerves just a bit.  But she thought quickly. Because suddenly in front of her Lexa seemed nervous too and Clarke had a feeling it wasn’t about the idea of falling and she wanted a way to make her less nervous so she spat the first thing she thought of out, “I was born in prison.” 

“What?” Shock flashed over Lexa’s pretty face. Clarke felt herself starting to grin, and smirk and smile even and when she did she saw the shock start to fade a little from Lexa’s expression.  So, clearing her throat to clarify Clarke went on, “no, my Mom wasn’t an ax murderer or something. She worked there as a doctor.” 

“Oh.” Lexa exhaled just a little more, and she blinked a little as she digested this and then a shy smile started to fill her face, “for a minute I--”

Whatever she was about to say was cut off by the horrible screeching of gears and moaning metal as the wheel protested turning and juddered to a stop.

Shit! Clarke felt her her lungs turn to slush. She felt her bones lock up. It was broken. Small breaths escaped her lungs too quickly.  The damn wheel was broken she should have known never to get on this thing--

Lexa had grabbed the basket rail and looked over the side, “I wonder what is--”

“Don’t do that!” Clarke grabbed her quickly and pulled her back into the basket, wrapping her arms around her automatically as she did.  She didn’t know she was shaking--

“Clarke,” Lexa’s arm closed hesitantly around her back, “are you okay?”

“It stopped working.” Clarke realized she shouldn’t be holding onto a girl she had just met like this but her eyes were squeezed shut tight and her head was on Lexa’s shoulder to keep her where she was. She didn’t know her.  But she couldn’t let her look over the rail again. 

Lexa’s other arm slid around her as well, “Clarke, it's just a malfunction. I am sure they are going to fix it. I saw them already trying. Look..” she tried to move.  Clarke latched on harder, “no.” she felt Lexa stiffen hesitantly and then she felt a gentle slide of the girl’s warm hand down her hair and soft words were spoken near her ears, “what is wrong? You are scared of heights?”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Clarke muttered, through her teeth.  She felt the panic rising in her and she knew she was sliding into a spiral, “why am I up here if I am scared of heights--”

“I wasn’t thinking anything like that.” Lexa said, “I was thinking. This is not about a broken ferris wheel--”

The wheel jerked and the basket plunged down twenty feet before catching.  Taking Clarke with it, making her arms tighten.  Making Lexa’s tighten too.  Clarke swallowed, “my dad.” she whispered, at last, grabbing at the front of Lexa’s jacket and crinkling it in her hand as she did, “my dad died.  He fell to his death.  I saw it happen.  What if I fall?”

Lexa flinched, hard, in Clarke’s arms.  And for a minute there was silence.  Complete utter silence except for the moaning of metal that suddenly made Clarke realise she had slipped into a complete panic attack in the arms of a complete stranger.  Embarrassment washed over her like a storm and she quickly moved to pull from Lexa, “I’m sorry I…”

Lexa’s arms tightened, “if you fall I will catch you-you will find me…” the words were sung soft against Clarke’s hair in the most beautiful voice Clarke ever heard.  She felt herself struck silent by them and lifted her face slowly to look up into watery green eyes.  Lexa sang the next words softly, “time after time.”

Clarke felt herself shaking, “time after time.” she sang back.

Lexa grinned and started laughing a little, “time after time.” 

Clarke started laughing too and sank back her voice getting a little stronger, “time after time.”

“Time after time,” Lexa whispered, she moved a hand and stroked it tangled hair back from Clarke’s face, “it's okaaay now.”

Clarke bit her lip.  She wanted to trace Lexa’s lips with her fingers.  She looked down instead at her own fist tightened around Lexa’s jacket--

“You okay now?” Lexa asked quietly.

“Yeah.” Clarke answered, “should I.. do I have to move?”

“You are fine, Clarke. I said I won’t let you fall. I will hold you until we are on the ground.”

Clarke felt herself blush a little and said nothing back.  Her eyes moved to the silver chain around Lexa’s neck and the little gear-shaped charm dangling from it, “what is this?” she asked, gently touching it. After a second she realized she recognized it as the same symbol Alexandra Woods wore with her warpaint. She also felt Lexa flinch a little and Clarke glanced up at her and slowly pulled her fingers back from the charm.

“It is okay,” Lexa admitted, “it’s just, that charm.  My sister and I. It's a reminder of that to keep us grounded.”

Clarke felt herself smiling softly and studied the little charm where it lay on the girl’s skin.  Around them.  The lights on the wheel made it sparkle a little, “can you believe we just did that?” Clarke asked quietly, she felt a laugh trying to escape her.

“Did what?”

“Sang that,” Clarke sat back a little, enough to look at Lexa, even as the girl’s arms loosened but still stayed around her, “sappy old song*?” Clarke shook her head, and now did let her smile escape, “it was pretty amazing though. I’ve never had anyone do something like that--”

The wheel started moving.  Not a fast, hard jerk that sent them dropping like before, but a slow, controlled, downward decent that carried them little by little back toward the ground, stopping from time to time to let the other passengers out.  Only when it was their turn did Lexa unwrap her arms from around Clarke fully. They didn’t bother looking at the attendants. Not even when he offered their tickets back.  On wobbly legs though Clarke made her across the loading area, down the short stairs and away from the Ferris Wheel with Lexa’s hand in hers. 

Only after she put enough space between herself and the wheel did she look back at it at last. She felt her eyes travel up up up to the highest part. For some reason it felt like she faced a demon up there--

As though Lexa knew her thoughts she tightened her fingers a little in Clarke’s and said softly, “I think you won.”

Clarke looked over at Lexa to see her smiling softly. It made her smile softly too. Then she remembered Raven’s suggestion, “you want Ice Cream?”

“Sure.” 

“Okay,” Clarke answered, she looked around the crowded area to get her bearings. Over the sound of voices and carnival music, she could actually hear Ash Lux on the stage now. Unlike the Muddy Booty Band, Lux could sing.  Clarke looked at Lexa again, smiled and led off, “this way.”

They had to pass several vendors to get to the area designated as the ‘food court’.  Many of those vendors were for the bands playing at the show, some sold wood carvings, some sold cowboy hats, some sold glass bottles of sand, or jewelry or custom plates or other such things.  Clarke had wandered through most of it looking at the crafts people had made to sell. The lady selling the hand-made painted fans took most of her money the day before. But she had enough left for ice cream tonight.  On their way by, they passed a car-dealership though that had many of their car models open and on the festival grounds for display.  Under the big tent the dealership’s employees were calling out, “come sign up for a free truck!” and also, “free truck giveaway!” and “Pick a prize just for entering!” Clarke rolled her eyes and smirked.  The cars made her remember though, “hey how did your car end up at my friend’s shop?�� it was ultimately what brought them here.

“Oh, “Anya was racing it.” Lexa replied, “you know in those races you have here? When she found out about them I couldn’t stop her. I might have to thank her, actually, for not listening.”

She might have to thank Raven too, Clarke realized.  But then she felt her hand pull her to a stop because Lexa had stopped behind her.  Clarke turned around, “what?”

“Don’t you want to do this?” Lexa asked, motioning to where the dealerships were at tables getting people to sign up, “they are giving out prizes just for filling in a form--”

“They only want your information so they can email you ads--”

“Look though! They are handing out keychains! Oh!” Lexa’s eyes lit up when she saw what a couple of women near the end of the table were handing out, “and light up hula hoops.”

“Lexa..” Clarke began to say.  She didn’t need a hula hoop that glowed in the dark. But Lexa was already making a beeline for that dealership employee.  And she was already bent over the table and filling out the form by the time Clarke had caught up with her.  Clarke could say nothing though.  She had to laugh and felt her heart explode just a little at the excitement in Lexa’s eyes when the woman handed her a glowing hula hoop and Lexa turned to her with it, “watch, Clarke.” she said with excitement in her voice.  Taking Clarke’s hand she led them to an empty-ish space, let Clarke’s hand go, pushed her hair back behind her shoulders, put the hula hoop over her body and started to use it.

Sure enough, it lit up and closed with every shake and rotation of Lexa’s slim hips. Clarke felt herself laughing as the girl did tricks with it, shaking her body and moving all the way around the tent for several seconds, catching not only her eye but everyone else’s there.  Some of the kids even started throwing more of the hoops at her and Lexa would catch them and put them on and use them as well.  After a few minutes of this though, and after she had caught and was keeping up somehow with her little swaying hips and dance moves, and after people started clapping for her Lexa finally slowly started removing the hoops one at a time and tossing them back to their owners until her own was the last and she finally made her way back to Clarke and stopped, “well?” Lexa asked, her eyes shining she took the hoop from her body and held it as it glowed and shimmered where her hands touched it.  She looked at Clarke hopefully.

Clarke realized that very second, she was actually in awe and speechless, “that was amazing.” she admitted, blinking and trying to catch her breath back that she hadn’t known she had been holding, “where did you learn to do that?”

“Dance class,” Lexa answered.  She held the hoop toward Clarke, “here.”

“Oh, I can’t.” Clarke protested instantly, “I mean …I couldn’t even keep the thing up--”

With a quiet smile, Lexa looked at the hoop and then at Clarke, “I just want you to have it.”

Clarke relented.  With a blush, she reached and took the hoop from Lexa.  The glow danced and shifted with touch as it traded hands--

“There you are.” a new voice spoke up through the crowds, a woman’s voice that Clarke didn’t recognize but one that had Lexa turning toward it so Clarke did too.  To Clarke’s surprise Raven, grinning ear to ear, cut through the crowds to stand where they were and with her was a beautiful blonde woman that happened to be the speaker.

“Anya.” Lexa spoke up.  She smiled too.  She closed the step to Anya, “this is Clarke?” she turned to introduce them.  “Clarke, this is my sister Anya?”

“Did you have a good time, Clarke?” Raven asked her.

“Yeah,” Clarke snapped out of it, “we ..we were just about to get ice cream.” 

“Oh wow sis,” Anya smirked at her, “did you actually forget about work?”

“Oh.” Lexa’s face fell.  And when it did Clarke felt her mood fall a little too and the air seemed to go sad around them.  Lexa turned slowly, “I--”

“I know.. I know, look, it's okay.” She smiled at Lexa trying to pretend she wasn’t feeling like she was losing her, “I had alot of fun.” she clutched the hoop tight in her hands and pressed it to the ground.

“Clarke..” Lexa turned to her fully.

“No, Lexa,” Clarke assured her. She smiled a real smile, “I really, really did.”

“God, you two are making me sick.” Anya spoke up, “I will wait over here.  Kiss her already Lexa,” Anya turned and shuffled a few feet away through the crowd, “we got to go.”

“Give you some space,” Raven smirked as well and moved to stand with Anya a minute more.

With a sigh, Lexa a stared at her friend.  With a sigh, Clarke stared at hers as well. Lexa turned to look at her again at the same minute Clarke did, “did you mean it?”

“I did.” Clarke offered quietly, “Thank you, Lexa. I forgot all this…” she looked around them to implicate what they were doing, the brief time they had, “I forgot how it could feel.”

“I had a good time too.”  This time it was Lexa who pulled in a deep breath.  She looked over at Anya standing several feet away talking to Raven and she looked at Clarke again, “I have to go. But it will only be for a few hours. Can I call you after?” she seemed unable to breathe for a second.  In fact, she seemed to have to pause and catch a breath, “and take you up on that ice cream?”

“You’re asking me on a second date?” Clarke grinned and rolled the hoop a little in her hands.

“Yes.”

“The shop will be closed.” Clarke pointed out with an amused smirk.

“A drink, then.” Lexa suddenly seemed hesitant, “a drink?”

Clarke smiled.  Without a word she turned from Lexa and felt her step after her in almost a panic as though to catch up with her.  She did by the time Clarke reached the table where people were filling out forms.  Clarke grabbed a pen from it and looked up at Lexa’s surprised eyes, “give me your hand?” she asked.

Lexa opened her palm.

Clarke wrote her number on it quickly. She closed the pen and set it on the table, “call me tonight?”

Lexa was nodding.  She was staring at her fingers and nodding, “I will. I will yes.”  She looked up at Clarke and suddenly blurted, “are you watching the Grounders show tonight?”

“I am, Lexa.” Clarke answered, “but I think you …have to work?”

Lexa nodded, “I do,” she seemed to be forgetting how to breathe, “so ..will you watch it for me?”

“I will Lexa,” Clarke answered, “yes.” 

 ( Continue to Lullaby of the Giant Five Chapter 2 )

( * 'Time after Time' by Cyndi Lauper )

[stickthatinyourstraw]

Beginnings

I’m going to start journaling here on my ole tumblr account. For anyone who still follows me, if this isn’t your thing, you’re welcome to go. I just need to find a new way to release some thoughts and energy on a regular basis. Who knows how often I’ll even get around to it. Ideally daily would be great, but considering how scatter-brained I really am, it’s unlikely. This’ll be a kinda stream of consciousness type thing, where I don’t go back and edit it, I just post what I’ve written.

So I guess I’ll start with what makes me want to do this in the first place; I don’t know how to deal with my own emotions or thoughts, and I feel like venting about it to no one on the internet might make me feel better. I went out with Wyatt tonight, and it all just stressed me out. To set the background, and so I’ll remember with context later; today was a chill day at work, I got to go in when I wanted for just education, so I slept in and grabbed Starbucks on my way in. Nothing particularly special happened, except for some sweet gossip that I love to hate; Jerenda is moving from her manager position to be a CCU nurse. I imagine that’s a pay cut, and I’m surprised Debbie is letting her go, but she must really be suffering like the rest of us were (and some still are). I asked Cassie to get with her old contacts in CCU and give me updates on how she does, more specifically if she fails, so I can report back to all my old buddies on the floor. She deserves every ounce of shit she gets up there. The rest of my work day was generally uneventful, but I ended up coming home to a paper towel confettied mess, because Wyatt hadn’t put the boys up this morning like he usually does. Not a huge deal, but I can’t find the damn broom, so I’m going to leave it for him to see and clean up, though it does stress me out every time I go out there. If I just ignore it, it doesn’t exist, right? Wyatt came home after with his car back out of the shop, he had some thing done to soften the ride and raise the suspension or whatever, but they ended up somehow fucking it up and lowering the damn thing even more. Now you can’t even fit a finger in the wheel well. I’ll admit that the ride was smoother, however even the slightest bumps sounded like the entire undercarriage of the car drug on the ground. So we rode out to the Habitat for Humanity food truck fest at the baseball stadium to meet Dad for some dinner. I got a giant redneck cup full of sweet tea, and Wyatt had a couple beers. He had Mahi tacos from Wrighteous Eats, I had a macaroni and pulled pork grilled cheese from Who Cut the Grilled Cheese? All in all, pretty good stuff. Dad wasn’t hungry, and Wyatt wanted to get to his buddy John’s car meet, so we left around 7. Now, I used to take a lot of issue with his driving style, because he tends to speed and take turns and corners too quickly for my liking, but since he put new tires on and stiffened the suspension in the Accord, it gripped a lot better and I felt I could trust it more. Well, it’s been raining for the last two days, so it’s damn wet outside, and I don’t care how much grip your tires have, if you go too fast on a turn, you’re putting not only us in danger, but other people as well. He flew down 110 at about 70, driving past a wreck with an overturned truck and a few state troopers. I felt it would’ve been smarter not to speed past the troopers, but whatever. We get to 29 and he has to do a fly by for the boys, so he hauls ass at like 70 down the 45 zone to get some good muffler noises, then does a U-turn and comes up to the shop. As soon as we get out of the car (whose door I’ve just locked), he and Rylan jump into a souped up Civic and go for a ride. I barely got an “I’ll be right back, love you babe!” before he hopped in and they took off in the little red fart can. 5 minutes go by and I’m getting antsy, standing in a mechanic’s parking lot with a bunch of strangers in the dark, waiting for my doofus boyfriend to get back. I text him and tell him, “I am not interested in hanging out here alone with strangers.” He replied with “I’ll be back in a sec, they needed me to buy beer.” Okay, fine. He’s gone almost another ten minutes, and needless to say, I hadn’t arrived in the greatest mood as it was. They get back, and I’m audibly irritated with him, and he asks if I’m mad at him for going, and I say that I kinda am for just immediately taking off and leaving me alone with strangers for 15 minutes. He tells me to “calm down”, which we all know how well that works out. He says “whatever dude”, my favorite pet peeve phrase out of his mouth, and walks off to put the beer away. He then goes to talk to this kid who’s bought himself a piece of shit Accord and proceeds to give him the old coilovers off his car that he’d had replaced today. The kid (19) is super excited, and proceeds to gush about his Accord to Wyatt, who’s just thrilled to have someone with the same car as him. Wyatt takes him for a ride in his car to show it off, and I stay behind because I have no interest in being complicit in his going 80 down Hwy 29. Two different groups of guys were making shitty remarks about Wyatt’s car, and though I couldn’t make out specific sentences, I could hear the snickering about how slow he was. They made fun of him. All I could think of was that I hoped no one knew I was his girlfriend. I didn’t want to be made fun of too, nor did I want to make anyone stop talking about it. I wanted to hear their unfiltered and unbiased opinions. Those opinions were not nice. Then they got back and Wyatt asked if he could go for a ride in the kid’s car, and though I gave him a dirty look, I wanted him to just do it and get it over with. He saw my face and told the kid “maybe another day” but I whispered “he has the mental maturity of a 4 year old, just go with him and make his fuckin day.” They left, the kid’s muffler dragging against the ground the whole way. Once again, all I could think of was “please for the love of God no one acknowledge that I know half of the brain power in that vehicle.” They made endless fun of that shit bucket car, even after they came back. Wyatt did get a semi-backhanded compliment from Rylan about his car from the ordeal, “This car is a piece of shit. Accords are not all pieces of shit, because your car isn’t a piece of shit, but this car is.” That made Wyatt happy, which is all I ask for. Now, note that this entire time we’ve been here, and I mean since we rolled up into the parking lot, I’ve had to pee. I’m on my period, so I’m already bloated, and I just finished about a quart of sweet tea and a giant grilled cheese and tots, so I’m busting at the seams here. He asks if I want him to take me home so I can pee, but I don’t necessarily want to abandon him and leave, I just want to go somewhere relatively clean, not the mechanic’s bathroom in the shop that I’ve just seen three kids running in and out of and playing in. No thanks. But eventually I just give in and let him take me home, and here we are. Writing to you, the void. It’s nice to just sit here on my computer, on the couch, in my own home, in the dark and the quiet, with three relatively calm dogs at my sides. Cali popped up out of a box and scared the shit out of Shep, so I’ve had something to laugh at.

I need to try and study a bit for the HESI and then sign up to take it next week so I can get my dumbass into school. I don’t really know what I want anymore. I want to help people, and I think I want to do it via emergency medicine, but I honestly don’t know if I’m equipped to handle that. Sure, I love the blood and guts in videos and shit, but what about in real life? I haven’t had a chance to see a real surgery yet, and with the way that I’ve handled things in the past, I’m nervous I’ll be too weak for it. Plus, going back to 3 12s every week and working those long and miserable hours on my feet with a bunch of grouchy ass patients. I really like the whole unconscious patients thing, they haven’t got much room to talk back. The other thing I’m worried about with nursing is being able to even get through school. Sure, if Glenn can get through it, I imagine I can too. But how do I learn all those medications? The abnormal heart rhythms? The various symptoms and variations of diseases and their processes? In just four semesters? How do I manage all that in such a limited time? I’ve never been particularly good in school, and I’m lazy as all hell, with my “if you don’t know it by now, there’s no point in studying any more” bullshit mentality. I know I shouldn’t be like that with schooling that determines my career, but I can’t help myself but not give a shit. It’s been almost a week since registration for the summer opened up and I still haven’t signed up for a class. I don’t know how I’ll be paying for it either, with the lack of Florida prepaid left over at this point. I’ve only got 37 hours left, but thankfully only need 42 hours for this AA. Beyond that, I’m shit outta luck. 

I’m just not feeling the motivation for anything. I don’t know if it’s that I don’t feel motivation any more, or that I never felt it to begin with. I wasn’t motivated in middle school or high school, and certainly not the first time around in college classes. But I just don’t feel motivation to do things that I enjoy. It reminds me a lot of when I would come straight home from school and just sink into the couch to watch Netflix until late at night, without bothering to do much homework or any studying, much less any self care. I don’t have the motivation to shower every day, I don’t remember to brush my teeth every morning if I don’t go to work like normal, I never wear makeup and usually don’t brush my hair. I never eat breakfast or enjoy my coffee or wake up at the first alarm without snoozing. I don’t play videogames anymore, and I don’t have much interest in plants anymore. I don’t keep up with my part of house work and yet still get frustrated with Wyatt when he doesn’t do his part. I neglect my old passions and belongings. I don’t try. I don’t really care, even. I just feel so empty sometimes. I feel like I have a hole in my stomach, like I’ve tried to fill a void with hobbies and interests and food and friends, and nothing ever seems to work, or at least not for long. I’m not really depressed right now, but maybe it’s just that it’s grown into something different. Maybe this constant emptiness is my new form of deep sadness. I don’t cry a lot anymore, and I haven’t been suicidal in a couple months. Even when I have been sad lately, I’ve thought about the idea of suicide taking away the pain, but it just doesn’t feel like the right solution anymore.  I guess that’s a good thing, not wanting to die, even if I don’t really feel like I am living. I’m just so upset about everything all the time. I’m worried I’m too handsy and mean with the dogs. It breaks my heart every time I raise my hand to Lillie and she cowers, and I know that I’m the one who’s done that to her. I don’t beat her, but I’ve used my hands to train, and I know it’s wrong. I guess that makes me one of the bad guys. I hate myself for it, because I can’t control myself in the moment, I just see this blind rage and I lash out at the object of my anger, and then afterwards realize I was wrong in handling it the way I did. Do I even deserve these dogs? Sheppy paces out of boredom, and I’m worried Lillie will end up doing the same. They’re just so high energy, and I’m so not, I can’t motivate myself to take care of them the way I know they deserve. I hate myself sometimes. This is one of those moments where I wish I could just die, but I know I don’t want to. I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. I think I’ll schedule another appointment with Dr. Kim and talk it out with her. I really need help with Wyatt most of all. I’m worried about him, and I’m worried about the way I treat him. He absolutely deserves better than I’m giving him, but I couldn’t stand to lose him. He really is my whole world, but like with Lillie, when he aggravates me, I just lose all sense of right and wrong and just go with an aggressive and hateful base instinct of doing what I want. I’m trying to be better, but I feel like since I’ve stopped therapy, I’ve slid back some. I haven’t been so kind, patient, and forgiving. He deserves that much from me, when I know he does the same for me.

Anyway, at this point, I’m just rambling thoughts of things that have come to mind lately, and I think this is sufficient for the first journal post. If you’re a follower and you’ve made it this far, I’m so sorry for you, it was not worth it bud. But for me when I come back and read this later, be more forgiving to him. He didn’t mean it that way, he didn’t intend to make you feel like that, he didn’t mean to upset or bother you. Sometimes he’s just oblivious, and he still can’t read your mind. Give him the patience he deserves, and the love and support and acceptance he needs. Give more of yourself to him, don’t be selfish, share a little.

Cheers

[criticalerrorka]

Sharing the Excitement

I don’t share a lot of my personal life, or really make many original posts these days. This can be mostly attributed to the fact that I am always on mobile and don’t like the limited amount of editing I can do or the time that it takes me to write out long things on a phone keyboard. 

So, I’ve been driving a piece of shit car for the last 6 years. A 1998 Chrysler Sebring JXi convertible with a salvage title and a slow-drip oil hemorrhage. Within the first year of owning this car, I began putting away savings for a different car. See, this car had always been intended as a “temporary fix.” It was bought for me (by my dad, from one of his good friends) when my 1998 Dodge Stratus took it’s fourth or fifth shit. The damn thing had over 200k miles on it and we sold it for scrap (the Dodge, not the Chrysler).

Problems my Sebring has developed over our six year relationship include but are not limited to:

Dead trunk suspension. TBH, I think it might’ve been dead when I got the car. For most of my car’s duration with me, I have had my “trunk stick”, which I wedge into the trunk of the car to hold it open. 

A steady leak at the front windows during heavy rain.

A back window dropped off the track, then Macgyvered to stay mostly closed (with about a half inch gap) and never open again. Also leaky.

A driver’s seat belt that frequently tries to merge you with the seat because it’s locking up and won’t loosen, only tighten. 

A water leak in an unknown and unidentifiable location that guaranteed every three to four days I would have to check my fluid levels before driving the car.

A gas gauge needle that won’t go above 3/4 tank, so even when I spent extra money filling the tank, I never got the satisfaction of seeing the needle on FULL. Also, couldn’t quite trust it when it got close to empty.

A dysfunctional horn that also had to be Macgyvered--my dad rewired it to a weird little button on a string that sat in one corner of my dashboard. Super-impracticable, but it passed inspection. Prior to the re-wiring, the fuse for the horn had been pulled out, because one cold morning I went outside, cranked my car to warm it up, hit lock on my key fob to keep strangers out of my cranked car while I went back in to finish getting ready... and promptly began panicking, because instead of a single “honk” to indicate the car had locked, I was greeted with “HOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK” and NOTHING WOULD STOP IT. My horn was stuck in the “on” position at fucking 6:30 in the morning and I had to barrel back inside and wake up my boyfriend because I had no fucking clue what to do. 

Illegal tint. My dad bought this car from a collision repair center owned by a friend of his. It had been the friend’s wife’s car before she upgraded. (Ironically, this woman used to drive me to school in the 7th grade because they lived in my neighborhood and her daughter was a grade below me, and at the time this car was my DREAM car, because I didn’t know anything about cars but it was purple, and this was like 2001 so it was relatively new.) So, car guy KNOWS the tint isn’t inspection-legal. But for the first few years I own the car, no one at the inspection station cares. It’s JUST BARELY out of the legal range, not super-blackout-tint or anything like that. Then one day I fail inspection, I’m told that police have been cracking down on tint more so the inspection guys likewise aren’t looking the other way, and I have to go home and peel off all of my already-failing tint with a razor blade and a hair dryer. 

Magic smoke. Like, a LOT of magic smoke. At some point, she had been cured of the magic smoke (not sure what surgery helped with that). But for a while, it was embarrassing to go through a drive thru or any place my car would be idling for a while, because I would just be smokescreening the people behind me.

Extreme seat-cushion cracks, deterioration, exposure. My driver’s seat was 2/3 exposed foam.

Never gets warm. Between the compromised windows and the overall shitshow status of the car, it would take about 20 minutes for hot air to start coming out of the vents. And even then, the car would never truly feel warm.

A stuck passenger seat. Like, something got stuck in the track so it wouldn’t slide forward or back anymore.

Oh, I almost forgot about this one! One time I was vacuuming the car and I moved my driver seat all the way up and IT GOT STUCK. I had to drive with it like that, dangerously close to my steering wheel, windshield, and airbag, for a very terrifying 15 minutes to interrupt my dad at his job so I didn’t have to worry about an airbag snapping my neck.

One of the speakers died. I don’t think I blew it out--I hate bass and I don’t listen to my music very loud. It just gave up.

Around the same time the horn got an attitude, it stopped making any sound when I locked my car. I used to just spam the lock key and listen for the beep if I was in a crowded parking lot trying to find my car, but this was taken away from me. 

Towards the end, the locking mechanisms’s relation to my key fob was very strained by cold weather. If it was below freezing in the morning, I would have to unlock the door with the key itself instead of the button.

For a while, some of the electrical stuff was funny. The CD player wouldn’t get power and I would have to pound on the dashboard or wiggle the key around the ignition. If the radio wasn’t working, I knew my turning signals also weren’t working (much more concerning).

At some point it developed the ability to release the key without the key being in the proper position, so I had to be extra careful that I didn’t wind the key back too far so that the radio was running before I took the keys out. 

These next bits weren’t the car’s fault, but were still annoying to deal with. I broke my passenger side mirror on the world’s skinniest tree and it just sort of flopped for a while. Then, I dented the shit out of my passenger front corner panel when I sunk my tire into a pothole/storm drain combo. The panel was bent so badly you couldn’t open the door enough to let a person in or out. A coworker’s mechanically-savvy friend, a little bit of money, and a trip to the junkyard afforded me a replacement mirror and a new, non-matching quarter panel. I could have cared less about the look, but now I had a giant clashing square of burgundy on my purple car, more or less telling everyone around me “I LIKE TO HIT THINGS”.

Now mind you, I haven’t even gotten into the mechanical problems that grounded her for a while; she’s needed several surgeries, including her starter, her water pump, her fuel pump...I really can’t remember everything. It’s never been a huge, expensive fix, but it’s always been something very time consuming.

Oh, here’s a fun side-note about Chryslers; well, at least this one. I will NEVER buy another one so I can’t continue my research on this, but it seems Chrysler at least at some point was a malicious company that wanted to make sure the everyman had zero ability to work on their vehicles and would have to take them to the dealer for any sort of maintenance or repair. EVERYTHING is in a weird and inconvenient location inside this car. The goddamn battery was right above one of my wheel wells--I couldn’t even get my battery replaced at an auto-parts store like Auto Zone or O’Reily’s because THE DAMN CAR HAS TO GO ON A LIFT TO GET THE BATTERY OUT.

On Wednesday, January 10th, I was driving the 2-3 miles home from work, cutting through an apartment complex’s connecting road, and my RPMs dropped to zero. My power steering went out. I pulled my car into the parking lot, shut her off, and she wouldn’t crank. It just kept turning and turning and turning and turning, but would never spark.

Thank all the gods for AAA. I got her towed home. My boyfriend tried what little he could with the limited time he’s had: check battery, change fuses, things of that nature. But he’s been working a lot, and it’s been so fucking cold, he hasn’t really had the time to fiddle with her.

So for 10 days I’ve been getting rides to the bare necessity of places: work, home, and one doctor’s appointment (s/o to my best friend for making sure I got to where I needed to be). 

Friday, January 19, I left my boyfriend parked outside my work while I did my once-over before locking the place up. My manager was out of town and I was left in charge, so I was very meticulously making sure I had shut down and locked everything. Needless to say, he had to wait on me a good 15 minutes while I got my ducks in a row.

And wouldn’t you know, that wonderful man got on craigslist (after YEARS, mind you, of leaving me to be the one to do the searches while he provided second opinions) and lined up a test-drive with a private party, and the location was a place I drove by every day on my way to and from work. 

And guys? GUYS?!

She’s a 2009 Toyota Corolla and her name is Rebecca after Lori Petty’s character in Tank Girl, and I love her so much.

tldr: I’ve been driving a shitty car for 6 years, searching for an upgrade for 5 of those years, and yesterday I FINALLY bought another car. I had a 1998 Chrysler Sebring, it died, and I found a 2009 Toyota Corolla. 

And I really just can’t put into words how much weight has been lifted off of me. I’ve been terrified of my car for years. I’ve been searching, and struggling, and I’ve met up with at least a dozen people to test drive their cars and always left disappointed. And finally, finally, I’m free.

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How I discovered One of the best Choice For Me • Living Off Cloud

How I discovered The very best Option For Me • Dwelling Off Cloud

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