#vintage hatchback

[alfaromeole]

Double death bloom

Seat 127 (1972–1982), the Spanish 3-door hatchback version of the sexy Italian Fiat 127. Literally a Seat Ibiza, lost on that island. The patina would need to be patended...

[pamesoldwebnostalgia]

Toyota rv-2

[radracer]

Honda Civic Hatchback sb1

@ukrainian_carspotter

[demoralised]

[atomic-chronoscaph]

Ford Pinto (1974)

[rootbeercarguy]

Throwback to revscene 2013

[fellhellion]

gonna be objectively hilarious if A is chill w fucking in the hatchback per that one dev ask way back but refuses the chance of ruining the custom upholstery in their car 

[bambiesfics]

⊹ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭 ⊹

warning: water-sports, extreme overstimulation, graphic depictions of lesbian smut, r!receiving finger bang, sarcastic Ellie, fluff + loving at the end.

vague description: reader has a full bladder and is trapped in Ellie William’s hatchback.

author’s note: re-upload of my fic from last blog, also don’t read this in public. It gets intense.

“Pinup paradise diner…home to… ‘The World’s Bustiest Milkshake Jars?’”

You read, with your face nosed deep into the crease of the monotoned map. You deflated back into your seat, irritated at the amount of eye-strain required to make out such small font. And let the roadmap blanket the top of your thighs.

“Is that where we’re going next?”

Ellie's eyes were intently focused on the red Honda Civic in front of her, the one she’d almost rolled her windows down to spit at, less than a minute ago. Her stacked bracelets clinked as she cracked the knuckles of each one of her boney fingers.

“Is that what it says on the map?”

You flipped back to the legend, squinting at the list of diners, drive-ins, and street trucks. The corner of her plump smile quirked, hearing you mutter,

“Jesus, how do you read this thing?”

Your squint jumped between Ellie and the page, “uhhhh…yes?—yes!”

“Then that’s where we’re going next.” She crudely cracked her pinky last. The last finger with chips of black nail polish speckled on it and a snug silver braided ring that hugged it. She settled into her seat, merging onto the left lane.

“Pinup Paradise? Really? Seems like an odd choice for a drink after going to Whopping Wrap.”

You flipped the map neatly back onto your lap as your girlfriend flicked the blinker up.

“Milkshakes after chicken wraps Ellie? Really?”

“Hey—Tommy said they have the best milkshakes this side of the state. That type of man, the fucking lumberjack he is, does not fuck around when it comes to satiating that gnarly sweet tooth.”

She muttered “He probably has cavities bigger and darker than the cracks in the Grand Canyon.”

And your tiny giggle teased a smile out of Ellie, as she half-heartedly blocked the swats you struck at her with the rolled up map.

Your girlfriend got such a fucked up kick out of busting Tommy’s balls, and he knew it too.

She flicked the signal light up higher once more and cruised right into the strip mall lane that led the car through to the drive-thru, the diner growing closer each second.

In a smooth slow crawl you and your girlfriend rolled towards ‘Pinup Paradise Diner.’

A canary yellow, vintage diner, littered with paintings of 50’s pinup models that decorated all of the glass windows.

A drive-thru swinging sign read ‘The World’s Bustiest Milkshake!’ above the order window.

You were incredibly humored, noting all the double entendres and puns that weaved through the slogans graffitied across the menu board and windows.

A young crew member poked her head out of the order window, smiling tightly before asking for both of your orders. She watched on while Ellie fished for her peeling leather wallet in the back pocket, and poked her head out of the side of the hatchback window.

“Hey, can I grab a blueberry crust milkshake? And she’ll have….” Ellie trailed off, shooting you back a look with her eyebrow raised.

“…What’ll you have?”

“I’ll have a vanilla bean milkshake please. Also could I get a bottled water, if you have that?”

“Okay, so right now we only have the 1 liter sized bottled water.. would that be alright?”

“Ah, I’m sure that’s no problem, I’ll take it. Thank youuu.” you sang, and the girl mirrored your gentle smiled. You settled back into your seat and she closed the window.

“Why’d you get water?”

Ellie observed, hastily touching up her upper and bottom lashes with mascara, in the dash mirror, before she had to put her foot on the gas.

Vain. You teased in your head.

….But so pretty.

The mascara made her already long lashes, even longer. Her dark brown eyeliner was smudged, yet the grittiness was still so attractive on her. “You should wear brown eyeliner more Els. It really brings out the green in your eyes.”

She side-eyed you suspiciously.

“Thanks?…”

And you rolled your eyes. Your girlfriend loved to pretend she was allergic to compliments unless they were talking about her earth-shattering service top abilities.

Ellie grabbed both your milkshakes. And used her teeth to rip the paper cover off her straw while passing you your drink.

She put her foot on the gas and peeled out.

“You still didn’t answer the question.”

“What question?”

“The question of what possessed you to buy an entire liter of water?”

“Because like, you know the sweet aftertaste left in your mouth after you eat something really sweet? I don’t know, but it makes my mouth feel dry.”

“Ah.” she responded.

“…that’s actually real as fuck.”

“Right?” You settled deeper into your seat. Hugging the milkshake to your chest while you stalked a few instagram stories, relaxing into the rhythmic roll of your girlfriend's beat up hatchback.

Townhouses and parked SUV’s started running on either side of the car as Ellie drove on, deeper into suburbia. You pushed yourself up to gaze out the window.

“Where are we going?”

Ellie turned right into a smaller street.

“To find a place to park. I’m tired of driving.”

“Hmm, sorry baby” you hummed as you rubbed her thigh. Your eyes lit up. “Then can I drive your ca—”

“—no. When will you stop asking?”

“When you finally let me drive it? Let me behind the wheel please.”

She scoffed, eyeing you up and down. “So I can end up with my knees touching the back of my skull? Yeah no.”

“You’re not funny Ellie.”

“And you’re the only passenger princess I’ve seen whining to do her girlfriend's job. Be a lady, damn.”

You broke down laughing, clutching your chest while Ellie bit her lip down to put a lid on her own laughter.

You shimmied close to her, your breasts squishing her upper arm.

“Then can I have some of your blueberry shake?”

She circled the straw around your mouth and made you chase it.

“uh ah-uh-hah—Ellie.” You whined.

Ellie barked a laugh at how adorable you looked, and then slotted the straw onto your puckered mouth.

“Mmm…”

“You like?”

“Yeah it’s so yummy. I should’ve gotten that instead.”

Ellie attempted to take her milkshake back, but with some struggle as you leaned further and further into her seat, pressing your front body into her arms just to keep tasting it. You were practically finished your own drink, and were now drinking half of hers. And in that moment you recalled at all the previous times your girlfriend had gripped your ass and whispered how you were a greedy little princess in your ear. Ellie was an asshole through and through.

But she spoiled you, and she loved doing it.

You eased back, and Ellie stole her milkshake back. She circled her tongue around the tip of the straw before sucking it. Wrapping her pink lips around the sticky tip your rosy lip gloss had covered seconds prior.

You dropped your empty cup in the cup holder and went to chug most of your water. It provided an indescribable amount of relief from the saccharine blanket on your tastebuds. A cool feeling that settled in you, as Ellie pulled into a grassy park parking lot.

Willow trees lined up along the curb, their weeping pose provided shade to several lots, including the one above you.

Ellie killed off the engine. She tipped her head against the headrest in relief. She flexed her fingers, stretching out the kinks, feeling the breeze run past.

Her head lolled limply to face you. “Do I really look that good in brown eyeliner?”

“Yes you really do.”

Ellie’s cheek dimpled.

“I love when you tell me stuff like that.”

“Like what? That you look pretty?”

You murmured into her shoulder, looking up at her.

“Yeah, makes me feel…dunno, not like a greasy loser.”

“Please, as if I would ever let a greasy loser bag me.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Jesus, kill yourself.”

She maintained eye contact with you, green eyes jumping between your own. Reflecting the amber beauty of the sun in its sparkle. She gave you a soft smile, you gave Ellie one back. A truce to the constant teasing. And Ellie took it as an invitation to dip her head down, and pull your lips into a kiss. One she’d been yearning to do since she’d first reversed both of you out of your driveway.

Ellie chased the kiss into the back seat. She gripped the fat of your hips to inch you slowly off of the center console and towards the back. She followed, kicking her loose driver’s seat forward with the sole of her sneakers. The slide adjusting rail had seen better days, and had been owned by better people than the currently horny, blunt, ungraceful young lesbian who had an avid penchant for violence, that owned it that day.

Ellie teased her hand up from your hips to the base of your neck, to grab the back of your head as she worked her puffy lips against yours. She was hungry for your little mouth, and it was seen in the way her jaw flexed.

Ellie kissed you with a remarkably intense eroticism.

Her hands ran down over the fabric of your milkmaid top before ripping the holes away from the buttons to let your tits spill out right into her hands. Each nipple immediately kissed the waiting pads of her thumbs, as they moved to greedily massage the sensitive head. Grazing each of your puffy tender domes over and over. “Fuck, need to suck these heavy tits baby.”

Ellie’s lips made their way down your chest. She suckled some swollen red marks into the skin, before making her way lower. Coming eye to eye with your nipples.

“Can you please squeeze your boobies together?”

You took your palms and pushed them together. Ellie's whiny sigh sent heat pooling in your tummy. She leaned in, licking a greedy stripe across both nipples, tickling their head with the tip of her tongue, tonguing the flesh around both areolas. And suckling your nipples intermittently then popping off them. Leaving both of them so puffed out.

Your squeaks filled the expanse of her small car, and her aroused groans joined to match.

She shoved her fingers in the waistband of your tiny denim shorts and tugged at them. They budged, but barely, so you helped your girlfriend. You lifted your ass off the seat and slid your shorts and thong down your thighs, before Ellie slid them the rest of the way off your ankles and threw them in the front seat.

The soft breeze blew past your cunt. Exposing the warm skin to a cooler environment.

“S-should we be doing this in a park?” you squeeked.

Ellie kissed her answer on your lips “there’s” *smooch* “no one” *smooch* “here.” As she shoved her hand down to palm the fat of your vagina. Feeling your pussy fill up her fingers. Ellie curled a middle finger into your tight hole, it barely wanted to split apart to accommodate her finger. But she marveled at how hungrily it sucked her in. She pumped shallowly before adding in her ring finger.

Her chrome ring grazed the swelling mound inside your hole; your g-spot. And it pulled a pathetic mewl out of you. She curled her wrist up, ligament appearing. And pumped harder. Enjoying your shaking thighs in the air.

Your brain was melting into mush. And all you managed were barely coherent babbles.

“…feels ss-s'good” your eyes were rolled backwards.

“God bunny…” Ellie marveled, “your pretty pussy’s so greedy.”

Ellie’s teeth dug into her lip “How did I bag you?”

All you could muster were delirious squeak noises in response as you tugged on the base of her ponytail.

“Look-look down” Ellie’s fingers grasped your chin, pulling your eyes away from her flushed aroused face and towards your own shiny pussy. “L-look at how you’re swallowing my fingers.”

Ellie’s forehead knocked against yours.

“Hey…c-can you squeeze for me?”

You never disobeyed her instructions, not when you both were like this. Nodding limply, you clamped around Ellie’s fingers, a choked moan escaped you. And a deep, throaty groan escaped her. Feeling how tightly you suckled in her fingers, how badly you wanted her there, made a warm heat throb between Ellie’s legs and left her boxers sticking to her sloppy cunt. Ellie could almost cry that she couldn’t bully a cock inside you, just to feel that desperate clamp around her cock.

Her ring pushed into your plump inner walls over and over, and dragged a new delicious zing of pleasure through the ribbed inner walls. Puffy, swollen, and sloppy with slick.

Ellie had a newfound resistance in her thrusting, the clamping, warm grip of your puffed out walls were holding her fingers still. But she kept pumping, like a suction cup being stuck on and popped off.

You were assaulted with thrilling pleasure from your walls clamping, chasing the press of her jewelry. And from your girlfriends frenzied, desperate thrusting. Ellie was just as hazy brained as you.

It was a costly mistake. All of the fluttering was stimulating your pelvic muscles. Which stimulated the other tiny hole snuggled in your pussy. The familiar pressure of a full bladder pressed behind the teeny hole of your urethra. Your squeaks came out strained. You scooted into different positions on the seat, trying to ebb away the pressure.

The shifting positions only made it worse as your tummy squished from movement, and as Ellie pumped upwards.

She jack hammered her fingertips against the puffy roof of your warm cunt. Her feverish ministrations put so much pressure on your bladder. You choked out a breathy plea.

Your hands skated up your girlfriend's torso, past her exposed waist and pebbled nipples that strained against her t-shirt, and finally towards her square shoulders in an attempt to push her back.

She needed off.

“I gotta…uhn… I gotta.” you whimpered.

“What was that?” Ellie sighed.

“I-ah!” The thrust felt so good.

You were whiny “th-think I needa pee.”

“I’m fucking you so good it’s got you confusing cumming for peeing? Y’so adorable it’s insane.” Ellie kissed your lips, picking up her pace.

She took the hand she’d used to squeeze and pinch your tits and brought it down to press on your lower tummy, as she thrust up.

Oh.

“Nnnnhnhn no! ph-please ewwie.. can’t—hold it.” You babbled the same desperate plea incoherently, but with a mouth nearly paralyzed from the incessant abuse of your hole Ellie was doing, you were left whiny and gulping, babbling tiny sentences at a time.

Sweat pricked at your skin, an orgasm was fucked into your vagina, and a full bladder pressed at your urethra. You didn’t know what to do as the mounting climax forced against your urethra left you with a desperate need for release, in the car.

Ellie’s lips kissed your jaw, snuggling against your head.

“You wanna let it out, big girl? Make a big mess f’me. We can clean it all up later, I promise.”

“nuh—ah Ellie no no…aghh! ”

Your urethra let out a thin light spurtle. Settling into the space between you two as more slick gushed out of your hole. You sobbed through your orgasm, from the joint pleasure of climax combined with relief from pressure pressing against your urethra. Ellie kept fingering you through each tiny pump of liquid that squirted from your urethra and through each contraction of its sloppy wet vagina, as slick spilled out of you and ran past your bare ass, onto her leather seats. With each aggressive thrust of Ellie’s fingers—fuck in—pull out—came out spurt after spurt, from each hole. She slowed down once you fell back into the seat softly; boneless and glass-eyed. Like an abused rag doll.

You both caught your breaths, Ellie from the aggressive thump and heat in her pussy. And you from your ‘accident’.

Ellie watched as the looming embarrassment creeped every so slowly onto your face, as the orgasm slowly ebbed away. She placed shaky kisses on top of your head. Cupping the back of it in support.

Sure, maybe her car wasn’t the best time to explore that kink. Seeing as the bottom half of her shirt and her belt was wet.

But she wasn’t going to let her girlfriend curl in on herself in shame, just because of her body’s natural reaction. Especially one that Ellie practically fucked out of you.

If not for the small space of the car she might’ve pulled you into her lap, to kiss away the upset creases between your brows. But she could do nothing more than hover above your trembling body, and caress your squished tummy with her free hand, until the shaking eased.

She was breathless. “You did so good, baby.”

You shoved your face into the crook of Ellie’s neck. The sweet cologne on the collar of her shirt calmed you down, with its medley of gourmands, lavender and florals.

Your girlfriend had a way of grounding you. Everything about Ellie had the ability to. From her cold, icy fingers, to her soft, pine scented hair. To her woodsy cologne, always left on the collar of her shirts, ready to tranquilize your unrest.

“nuh-uh I—.”

“—So good. My good girl, doing exactly what I tell you too, c’mere.”

Ellie unplugged her fingers out from your hole and suckled the last bit of slick cream off, then swiped it on her shirt. She licked her lips. Using her now clean hand to cup the side of your jaw and draw you into a heated kiss that left both of you trembling.

You shifted positions in the seat from discomfort.

“You still need to pee s’more?”

“No.”

“Babe…”

“Maybe.”

Ellie reached over and opened your door, then hopped out from her side. Jogging over to shield your body.

You crouched in behind her, her and the car towered over you from both sides.

You pouted up at her, and she glowered down at you. Her arms crossed firmly as she looked away briefly to scan around the area. Before parking her gaze back down at you as the remaining stream from your bladder emptied itself.

“No more vanilla bean milkshakes.” you winced at the feeling of the breeze tickling your swollen labia.

“Of course. Yeah, that was the real culprit. Not the mega-giant 1 liter water bottle.”

You frowned.

Ellie’s arms dropped from their cross, and her black fingernails pinched the fat of your cheek and pulled teasingly.

She reassured you.

“Yeah sure, we’ll blame it on the vanilla bean milkshake.”

[soundwavefucker69]

if God came down today and said "i will give you any car on this planet, just ask for it, i will cover your insurance and car maintenance and everything you need, including insurance," i would have to sit and think about how I'm gonna commit to the bit.

the Toyota AE86 is a damn good car. speedy. effective. hard to fucking import, since it was never sold in America. but not many people would recognize the reference, you know? I love sports cars. love hatchbacks even more. I currently HAVE a hatchback and adore it. but it wouldn't really be for the bit, you know? it would just be because it's a damn good vintage car and fun as hell and a beloved hatchback.

but shit. maybe a little pastel green Fiat 500? I got a thing for two door cars that don't have a backseat, you see. don't like lots of people in my fucking car, and it's a convenient excuse. besides, I'm a short king and some kind of crossbreed fruit abomination that scientists shudder at the sight of. made for agriculture, born to be an invasive species, ya know? a little car like that would be perfect to piss off my dad. ya know? man doesn't even let me drink fruity drinks in his presence since I'm a 'man' now. imagine rolling up to Christmas in that motherfucker.

but no.

the solution is clear.

I'm gonna look God directly in the fucking eyeballs. I'm gonna say Mercedes Benz 230 G-Wagon. modified.

God is going to start sweating.

modified? he asks, tentative, unsure. his voice is trembling.

yes, I say, with an elevated seat and a dome to shield the person in the seat from the elements. and maybe assassination attempts.

god is trembling like a newborn fawn on wobbly little legs. I lick my lips.

I don't want you to make it, I say.

I want you to steal the current popemobile.

he tells me it's modified to only go at a walking pace. you can't even really take it on a road!

I'm gonna tell him I'm gonna make it a sleeper. he'll cover maintenance, right? I got a nonbinary ex-Mormon that spitefully became a mechanic bc they got sick of men being misogynistic to them. they'd love this shit.

but! you were raised Pentecostal! he cries, and i smile. like a wolf.

ah, yes, but i got a former Catholic of a femme he/him lesbian best friend who would fit just perfectly in that elevated seat.

I'm taking him on the freeway in the popemobile.

now give me the popemobile.

god weeps. I smile. it's for the bit, of course. I'll be sure to wear a gay little crop top for our little world tour. gotta make sure we get good pictures.

[seat-safety-switch]

I’m Detective Archibald Shitpope. There’s only one thing I care about more than solving crimes: inexpensive Toyota hatchbacks.

The big boss upstairs has been tired of my incessant browsing of Craigslist at work for a long time. I get results, though, and no one else in the precinct comes close.

So when a murder case came across my desk, I did what I always do. Press F5 and see if anything under $2500 has been posted.

It took a long time to load. The precinct has shitty copper T3 back haul, and it’s always being wasted on stuff like crime scene streaming and live tracking of serial killers. That’s when I took a look at the case. And it shocked me. The murder occurred at the docks. The docks? That’s where JDM cars come from.

In dick school, they tell you that every murder has means, motive, and opportunity. There’s something else, at least for me. Toyotas. I carry a vintage トヨタ shift knob in my pocket, a sort of good luck charm. And, in contravention of department policy, my investigating car is a hammered-to-shit 2002 Celica GT (non-S) with bad ball joints, enough mileage that the digital odometer flickers in disbelief when I turn it on, and a case of sassy diff syndrome.

When I got to the scene, it was what I’d been dealing with for most of my career. A murder. I didn’t need the uniformed dipshits with their unreliable, smoggy domestic V8 squad cars to tell me that.

“It’s a classic locked room murder, boss,” said my assistant Soichiro when I finally arrived. He was born in Yonkers and legally changed his name after his hero, Soichiro Yamada, the guy who invented the cooled EGR system. “The keys are still in the vic’s pockets, so it's a mystery how someone got in there and killed him.” He walked me to a Toyota Corolla II “Windy.”

At once I knew the secret. “Soichiro, you fucked up again,” I spat with some measure of fatherly disappointment. This turbocharged, nearly-top-trim 1987 Corolla II sported the rare and desirable Panasonic parcel shelf speakers. That meant it also held the remote unlock feature, hugely uncommon for the Showa era, so much so that it would never be documented outside of the sales brochure, and certainly not in the inefficient and barbaric English literature for same.

“Turn ‘em out, Soichiro,” I ordered, pointing at his pockets, and he knew he had no choice but to comply. On the table before us lay the evidence of his treachery. One Carrozzeria branded remote lock/unlock remote, and - worse - the keys to a 1988 CR-X. He’d been on the take this whole time.

Later, the aforementioned uniformed dipshits would find something even worse on a search of a storage unit registered to my "partner," Soichiro. Four single-slammer D16 ZC engines, all matching serial numbers to the cars that went missing after the big tea house shootout in Chinatown. I’d been off that week, trying to find a replacement lift actuator, and Soichiro had filled in.

I don’t carry a sidearm. I don’t need to. I simply waited until Soichiro took flight, fleeing across the parking lot of the warehouse, and hit him with my car. Bent the upper radiator support, which the department bodyshop took care of since it was "in the line of duty." Fixed the headlight tabs, too. That probably cost Uncle Taxpayer a few cents.

I got a lot of heat for it later, from the chief, but the mayor overruled him, gave me a medal for valour. She was alright. Had a late model Tercel back home, I knew. Coupe, though, had a trunk. Politics is about compromise.

[unhingedwomandiaries]

I recently learned about this situation involving a friend, and it made me ponder the seemingly random injustices of modern life in a way that feels almost metaphysical. It's one of those stories that starts out innocuous enough, but keeps unspooling into layers of absurdity until the entire episode transcends mere anecdote and becomes an allegory for the inherent illogic lurking beneath society's surface.

Here are the Cliff Notes: My friend decided to sell her vintage Nissan Figaro online, which I guess makes sense if you're the kind of person looking to minimize your automotive carbon footprint (even though driving a 30-year-old car seems like an odd way to make that particular statement). But whatever - to each their own quirky ecological passion project. So she lists this admittedly kitschy-yet-endearing hatchback for £3,000, which strikes me as an absolute steal when you consider she ponied up over 15 grand for the thing several years back. I'm talking 80 percent off the original sticker price, folks. You'd assume only an enthusiast willing to overpay for some niche Japanese nostalgia-mobile would be interested, right?

Well, you'd be wrong - because the person who indeed snatched it up promptly turned around and ratted to PayPal that he wanted a refund. While still driving away with the actual car he had just purchased! It's honestly the kind of diabolical grift that makes you marvel at someone's sheer audacity. Like, this rando essentially decided to just take the Figaro for free and let the corporations sort out the details. And shockingly, PayPal was like, "Sure, why not - screw that seller." Even more shockingly, when my friend tried bringing the legal hammer down, the courts sided with el-scammero as well!

I mean...what the hell is that? How does one even process that degree of inexplicable chaos butchering any sense of transactional accountability? It's a vortex of meaningless unfairness, yet it somehow happened - an entire system failure event where the aggrieved party got royally hosed for legitimately trying to conduct business. In what plane of reality is that an acceptable outcome? None that I want to experience, that's for sure.

Honestly, it's the kind of Kafkaesque debacle that makes you say, "Welp, I'm never buying or selling anything online ever again, because the entire mechanism is hopelessly broken." And while that's probably an over-correction, you can't help but acknowledge the brokenness of it all. It's profoundly messed up in a way that chips away at your psyche's perceptions about cause-and-effect. If stories like this don't low-key shake your faith in the social fabric, you're not paying close enough attention.

[mlobsters]

supernatural s9e15 #thinman (w. jenny klein)

don't really think about it until they show a bit of s1/2 in the recap and man, dean's voice got so much lower

SAM On a hunt? Why wouldn't I? DEAN I don't know, man. 'Cause lately with you, up is down and down is sideways, you know? I-I -- I don't know what you want.

does sam even know?

worked for will graham!

i'm trying not to cringe up into a ball knowing it's a ghostfacers episode... maybe it'll be fine.

HARRY Ah, the Winchesters. Yay. ED Says nobody. HARRY Ever.

it's funny because it's true

DEAN Am I supposed to be impressed with that treasure trail or the lady gun you got hiding in your, uh, pants there?

this show, sometimes

HARRY 50 shades of whey too much protein!

look at that, we got a tld! ghostfacers.com! but not in the search results window

two laptops and a full sized, albeit also vintage, stove. they sure find the interesting motels

why is sam looking so extra pretty today. hair must be in a pleasing (to me) configuration

kind of surprised they aren't talking about tulpas if it's the slenderman spn-universe equivalent. oh man. this episode aired 2 months before the girls stabbed their friend because of slender man.

and dean just smacked treasure trail boy on the ass, all right. we're having a normal one

DEAN You throw the right Tibetan symbol into the mix, you dumb asses ever think the Thinman comes to life as a Tulpa? ED Because thousands of people can agree that Thinman is any one thing? The lore changes blog to blog. He's not a Tulpa.

LOL thanks show, make me feel clever

SAM Okay. Just grasping at straws here, but when I think "teleport," I think "Crossroads Demon." DEAN Mm. Demon that likes to stab and watch YouTube. Why not?

DEAN You know what video would have gone viral, if we still had it? When you were five and you got dressed up as Batman and you jumped off the shed 'cause you thought you could fly. SAM After you jumped first. DEAN Hey, I was nine, and I was dressed up like superman, okay? Everybody knows that Batman can't fly. SAM Well, I didn't know that. I broke my arm.

DEAN I know you did. Man, I drove you to the E.R. on my handlebars.

okay i teared up because that was just so sweet, both relaxed and happy for at least a second. haha such a sap

DEAN Hm, good times. SAM Yeah, they were.

second over, emphasis on WERE

ED Harry was gonna leave, so I needed to give him a reason to stay. I-I made up Thinman.

what

SAM Listen, if you don't tell him, he's gonna leave anyway. Trust me here. Secrets ruin relationships.

laughed out loud. they would know!

look at that pretty face staring down the dude to get him to tell the truth

HARRY You crashed the Jenga Tower of our lives. I was gonna get married. I left her to run around with you, living some lie. ED Well, at least we were living it together.

this is so goofy. even more in your face than usual, parelleling a plot point to sam and dean's situation

ED Harry, we can get through this. We just debunk Thinman and then we go back to Ghostfacers. HARRY I can't. I can't trust you anymore, Ed.

so goofy!

HARRY None of it was real, Sam. Ed was just pretending, and now he wants me to pretend, like this is just something I could get past. SAM I know what you mean. Look, there are things you can forgive, and there are things you can't. HARRY So, which one is this? SAM That's something you got to figure out for yourself.

therapize himself a little along the way

DEAN So, the tires were only made for one kind of car. It's a 1989 Geo Metro.

man those little hatchbacks used to be all over the place, nearly all of them must be dead by now. specially the mid90s ish ones which were ... not very reliable

DEAN So, there was no teleporting -- just a couple of douche bags doing the "Scream" thing.

what did i say about looking extra pretty? and he usually is more buttoned up than this. very pretty lighting too

ED I've done all this crap for us. I-I don't know why you don't see that. HARRY No. No. You did this for you.

literally wheezing. not enough to take the same betrayal of trust plotline but even the same lines!!? LOL

from s9e13 SAM Okay. Just once, be honest with me. You didn't save me for me. You did it for you.

--

HARRY You roll with a guy so many years, you start to think he's always gonna be next to you. Like, when you're old and you're drinking on the porch, he'll be in that other rocking chair. And then something happens, and you realize that other chair has gone empty.

snorted. so like, okay. do you hear yourself say it, harry? very normal thing, just like planning on being with your friend forever. not wanting him to be with his lady and a regular job, but on the road with just you. i mean like, obviously, same can be said about sam and dean and that's probably part of the point but it's so loudly obvious that it's like *looking around* are you seeing this? are they saying this. i guess we can say like see, this is normal, just dudes being close bros. weird

WEIRD CHOICES. what a strange episode. good for those actors i guess getting to come back again and have a meatier parts in the episode

okay also tucking this episode in my pocket because i recall there's a thing with the retirement whatever brochure some time in the future, but also that makes me sad again that dean didn't make it to retirement age. womp womp

[softichill]

Tommorow is toccarrow! Mom is gonna be PISSED! I got myself a 2018 Prius hatchback hybrid with adequate mileage and a good enough warranty. Nobody in my family knows I've done this . I am literally just going to spontaneously get CAR and mom is going to be like "(name), W H Y?!" God, I'm so excited what do I name it!? I'm fond of Cat so far as a reference to Internet memes calling cats cars but also as a secret Homestuck reference. Do you have an idea for a name? Del Vikings Flat Tire and oh yes. The TPOT II week. The last, it feels. I'll miss II.

Wooo car time!!! I have no good ideas for names, Cat seems good. Or u could name it after a transformer but I like Cat a lot

Vintage Minefield from Regretevator!

[fahadummar]

What sparked your interest in car collecting?

Point of Ignition

How My Automobile Collection Started In the most surprising way possible, a simple childhood curiosity led me to pursue a career in automobile collecting. My father was a huge automotive fanatic while I was growing up. He would often take me to local car shows and classic car meets, where I was captivated by the sleek lines, vibrant colors, and powerful engines of the vehicles on display. Each car seemed to tell a story, and I found myself imagining the adventures they had been on.

As I got older

This childhood fascination blossomed into a genuine passion. My first car-a modest but beloved hatchback—was a turning point. I spent countless weekends learning about its mechanics, fixing minor issues, and customizing it to reflect my personality. This hands-on experience deepened my appreciation for the artistry and engineering behind automobiles.

My attendance at a vintage automobile auction

It was a turning moment in my life. The excitement, the ambiance, and the amazing collection of vehicles captivated me. I became enraged after witnessing collectors place fervent bids on their ideal vehicles. I came to see that collecting was about more than simply possession; it was about fostering a sense of community, appreciating workmanship, and establishing a connection to history.

Conclusion

I've discovered throughout the years that every vehicle in my collection has a purpose. While some mark significant moments in the history of the automobile, others are prized for their distinctive looks. I like the excitement of the hunt, the backstories of each car, and the connections made with other auto enthusiasts as I continue to expand my collection. This path is a lifetime passion that feeds my spirit, not simply a pastime. Car collection has developed into a genuinely fulfilling hobby that I hope to pass on to next generations.

[superiorexotic24]

Before and After: Transformations from a Car Paint Shop in West Palm Beach

When it comes to revitalizing the appearance of your vehicle, a high-quality paint job can work wonders. In West Palm Beach, several car paint shops are dedicated to providing exceptional transformations that can turn an aging or damaged vehicle into a stunning work of art. This article will explore some remarkable before-and-after transformations, showcasing the impressive work done by a top car paint shop in the area, Superior Exotics Color & Paint.

1. The Classic Car Revival

Before: A classic muscle car, once a symbol of power and style, sat in a garage, its paint faded and chipped, with visible rust spots and scratches. The owner was heartbroken, knowing the car had potential but was too embarrassed to take it out on the road.

After: After bringing the vehicle to Superior Exotics Color & Paint a famous Car Paint Shop West Palm Beach, the transformation was astonishing. The team meticulously stripped away the old paint, repaired the rust, and applied a sleek, glossy finish in a deep, vibrant color. Custom detailing and chrome accents were added, restoring the car to its former glory. The owner couldn’t believe the dramatic change and was thrilled to take it for a spin once again.

2. The Everyday Sedan Upgrade

Before: An everyday sedan had seen better days. Its original paint was dull and scratched, and it had a few unsightly dents. The owner was looking for a way to make the car feel new again without breaking the bank.

After: The skilled technicians at Superior Exotics worked their magic, giving the sedan a full paint job in a stylish, modern color. They carefully repaired the dents and imperfections before applying a high-gloss finish that made the car look brand new. The owner was delighted with the result, as the car now turned heads rather than being overlooked.

3. The Custom Color Change

Before: A compact hatchback, while reliable, had a generic factory color that blended in with the crowd. The owner wanted to express their unique personality and stand out on the road.

After: After a consultation with the experts at Superior Exotics, the hatchback was transformed with a vibrant, custom color change. The team applied a stunning metallic finish that shimmered in the sunlight, complemented by unique graphics and accents. The result was a completely personalized vehicle that perfectly matched the owner’s style, turning it into a true head-turner.

4. The Restoration of a Vintage Truck

Before: A vintage pickup truck had decades of wear and tear, with peeling paint, rust spots, and a faded appearance. The owner was passionate about preserving the vehicle's history but wanted to restore its beauty.

After: Superior Exotics took on the challenge, carefully restoring the truck to its original condition. The team meticulously sanded down the rust, applied a fresh coat of paint in the truck's original color, and finished it with a durable clear coat. The transformation was breathtaking; the truck looked as good as new, and the owner was proud to showcase it at local car shows.

5. The Sports Car Makeover

Before: A high-performance sports car, while still mechanically sound, had developed several scratches and swirls in the paint from years of enjoyment. The owner wanted to restore its showroom shine.

After: After bringing the car to Superior Exotics, a leading Car Paint Shop West Palm Beach, the team provided a comprehensive paint correction service followed by a full repaint. The result was a mirror-like finish that highlighted the car's sleek lines and curves. The owner was thrilled to see their beloved sports car looking as stunning as the day they drove it off the lot.

6. The Family SUV Refresh

Before: A family SUV had accumulated scratches, dents, and faded paint from daily use and adventures. The owner wanted to refresh the vehicle without spending too much time or money.

After: The professionals at Superior Exotics performed an impressive refresh, including a full paint job with a protective clear coat to guard against future wear. The SUV emerged looking revitalized and ready for more family road trips. The owner was delighted with the transformation, noting how the refreshed look made the vehicle feel like new again.

Why Choose Superior Exotics Color & Paint?

These remarkable transformations illustrate the potential of a professional paint job to breathe new life into any vehicle. Here’s why Superior Exotics Color & Paint stands out in West Palm Beach:

Expert Technicians: The skilled team at Superior Exotics is dedicated to delivering high-quality workmanship, ensuring every vehicle receives the care it deserves.

Customized Solutions: Whether you need a complete paint job, touch-ups, or a custom design, they offer a variety of services tailored to meet your needs.

Attention to Detail: Their meticulous approach to preparation, painting, and finishing ensures a flawless end result every time.

Quality Materials: Superior Exotics uses only the best paints and materials, guaranteeing that your vehicle not only looks fantastic but also withstands the test of time.

Conclusion

The before-and-after transformations from a car paint shop like Superior Exotics Color & Paint highlight the dramatic impact that a professional paint job can have on your vehicle. From classic cars to everyday sedans, each transformation reflects the shop’s commitment to quality and customer satisfaction.

If you're considering a makeover for your vehicle, choosing the right paint shop is essential. By investing in a high-quality paint job, you can enhance your car's appearance, protect it from the elements, and enjoy the pride of driving a vehicle that truly reflects your style. Whether you're looking for a simple refresh or a complete transformation, West Palm Beach has exceptional car paint shops ready to bring your vision to life.

[rootbeercarguy]

Taken at a big meet up at a&w in 2019