#words on vehicle

[thewrongesttrousers]

Vehicle spotted at Burger King parking lot.

[drurrito]

Night Drive (18+)

Summary: You get a new car

AN: 18+ only y'all--we're gonna pretend that there are plenty of other self-driving cars that aren't t*sla...I hope this makes up for me not putting out another part of AYTO yet! All mistakes are mine.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: cursing; reader has a dick; dom//powerbottom!Natasha; sub//top!reader

----------------

You sink lower into your seat as you rev the engine of your new car with the widest grin Natasha can't see. Natasha looks hardly impressed from your view beyond the barely-legal tint of the windows.

You decide to roll down your window and plead your case.

"Hey baby."

Natasha rolls her eyes. You already screw yourself coming right out the gate with pleasantries, Natasha knows you're desperate to get on her good side when you do that.

"So...what do you think?" You vaguely gesture to the rest of the car and Natasha scoffs.

"I think you were a finance bro in your past life," she crosses her arms, and you relent, "probably," you sing as you round the car to lean against the hood. The gun metal gray still holds a shine in the moonlight. This wasn't an impulse purchase, you had been talking about buying a new car for a while now. You would go on little rants about the specs of certain cars whenever you saw them on the road or on TV. It's not like you were waiting when you had the money, being an avenger was a pretty-paying gig. You were just waiting for the right one, at the right time--a method you mastered by the time Natasha came around.

"Wanna go for a joyride?" You offer, already leaning off the hood and spinning the key in your hand.

Natasha wants to keep giving you a hard time, but you look so damn good in front of your sleek, expensive, new backdrop. Your muscles bulge under your fitted black shirt, and you have the cockiest smile on your face, like you knew you were winning this race.

"And if we get pulled over?"

"With SHIELD plates? I'm not worried about it," it almost comes out like it's scripted. You're not above rehearsing a speech for Natasha if it means getting your way. You're pulling out all the stops, but Natasha wants to remind you who's really behind the wheel. Her eyes rake over you slowly, intensely--the same way fresh lava travels over earth. You're standing at attention and you don't even know it.

"You gonna open the door for me or just stand there like you forgot your manners?" Natasha watches in amusement as you fumble for the door handle. She slides onto the cool leather while you make your way into the driver's seat yet again. You wait patiently for her to get comfortable and buckle in.

It's only when you rev the engine with a wink that Natasha muses this might have been a bad idea on her part. You punch the gas pedal and she's quickly acquainted with the back of the cherry red bucket seat.

----------------

Natasha decides that she doesn't like going fast unless the fate of the world depends on it. She also decides this is the one exception when she sees the freeway system of veins in your forearms as you grip the steering wheel. Natasha feels like she's flying when she watches your triceps flex while you turn the wheel or do something as mundane as turning on her seat heater.

Natasha slides her seatbelt off in a way that doesn't set off the sensor--she didn't want this moment to be ruined by a lecture on why it's important to buckle-up. You're too distracted by the beat of your night drive playlist to notice her crawling closer to you.

You feel her lips on the shell of your ear, "eyes on the road, got it?"

"Yes ma'am," you try to say cooly, you don't dare chance a look over at her. She hums with satisfaction and rewards you with a kiss on the skin behind your ear and a nibble on your lobe that tightens the coil in your belly.

Natasha sucks and licks at your neck while her deft fingers work to undo your belt and zipper. Her hand explores the border of your waistband before dipping under and finding what it was looking for. You let out a whisper of a gasp when Natasha admires your full length and girth. Your grip on the wheel tightens, Natasha chuckles when she hears the leather under your fingers groan.

Natasha begins to stroke you slowly, agonizingly so, but that doesn't keep your hips from bucking up into her hand.

"Tash," that only elicits a rumble against your neck. Natasha's other hand curls around your neck and gives a light squeeze that makes your vision blur for a second. Her stroking picks up speed, you have to work impossibly hard to keep your foot off the brakes.

"Natasha, please."

"I like the way you say please, baby," she mumbles with your skin between her teeth.

"What did I tell you?"

"Eyes on the road, ma'am," you say with a quickness that makes the corner of her lips curl up in satisfaction.

"So smart," she praises before you helplessly watch her head lower until you feel her lips greet your cock with a sloppy kiss. You throw your head back against your seat with a pathetic moan.

"So desperate," Natasha teases, and your mind feels like it's going a million miles an hour--multitasking is usually your strong suit, but it seems damn near impossible now.

Natasha's tongue travels the length of you, your hips feebly buck into her mouth when she finally grants you entrance. You slow your speed to safely take a hand off the wheel and hold her hair back. She thanks you with a gentle squeeze on your thigh and the prettiest sounds you could have only ever imagined.

Your playlist is already repeating itself by the time Natasha comes up for air. She can barely hear it over your panting anyway. You're rock hard and right where she wants you.

"The car can drive itself, you know," you breathe out. Natasha's brow quirks with curiosity.

"Show me," it's a gentle command, but your fingers rush to press the right sequence of buttons. You ease the seat back with haste, and Natasha just lets you sit there for a few beats to take you in and also leave you in suspense.

Your fingers dumbly flex against your legs while you wait for further instruction from Natasha. She doesn't even try to hide her smirk when your eyes begin to dart between the road and her.

"You're not gonna let us crash right, dove?" Natasha's finger traces a feather-light trail down your arm. It's a genuine question, even though she knows you probably did some sizable research on the safety features of the car before you even entertained buying it.

"No ma'am, you're precious cargo," you give an easy smile and that's Natasha's cue to move and straddle your lap. You help her with your hands on her hips, your hands quickly retreating to your sides when she's situated over you.

Natasha swears your eyes are sparkling as you watch her slide her panties to the side with one hand and take your length in the other.

"Eyes on me, baby, just for a second," she coos and you obey. Natasha can't help but admire the striations of your muscles working overtime to restrain yourself. You've always been intoxicatingly obedient, even when it's downright painful. Your eyes are locked on Natasha's, you have to bite your lip to stifle a moan when she finally eases down onto your cock. She's already working her hips in a way that has your entire body buzzing. You can count on one hand how many cars have passed you by this whole time, just like you expected.

Your fingers dig into the leather of your seat, your eyes periodically glancing at the road to make sure it hasn't veered off course for whatever reason. Natasha steals a few sloppy kisses when she leans into you to get a better angle and bounce on your cock at a speed that should be illegal.

"Tash, I'm gonna-," you choke out between labored breaths.

"What was that baby?" she leans back and oh god, you wish you had the kind of self-control your car has right now. You feel like you're going to pass out watching Natasha ride your cock, you're too blissed out to realize that she's spelling out 'm-i-n-e-' with her hips.

"I'm gonna come so fast."

"I know baby."

That seals your fate. Your arm reaches back to brace yourself against the seat. With a long and drawn-out "fuck," Natasha feels you push deeper into her, filling her up with every last drop of you. You both fall into a sweaty, moaning heap against the seat. Your body trembling with aftershocks as Natasha scratches at the skin on the back of your neck. You only get to drink this feeling in for a few seconds until you see red and blue flashing lights in your rearview mirror.

"Shit," you sit up and Natasha freezes when she sees what you see. You feverishly check your speedometer, you're not speeding. You start rifling through your brain to see if you forgot to do something, insurance? Plates? Registration?

Your questions are answered when you watch the cop car speed off into the night. Natasha lets out a heavy sigh of relief that makes your dick twitch, reminding you both that you're still inside of her.

"Told you," you try not to sound so exasperated. Natasha just rolls her eyes before kissing your temple. Night drives might just become a regular thing now.

[mittch22]

Prison in the world of Cars

So Im currently in the process of writing chapter 8 of Behind Blue Eyes and said chapters' content has got me thinking about the various minutiae of prison systems within this universe. Here is my take on it.

Speed restrictors - In order to prevent any kind of escape attempt, speed restrictors would be fitted to inmates with a high flight risk to prevent any speed being reached above about thirty miles per hour. In some cases, it could be deemed necessary to decrease speed potential even further for the most dangerous offenders. But the use of these devices comes with a significant quantity of government regulation to prevent their misuse. The fitting of restrictors can cause engine issues in the long run and shouldn't be used without prior approval from a court.

Parking boots - Wheel cuffs. I needn't say much more than that. No moving for you! They can be used on both front wheels, both back wheels or all four wheels depending on requirement. But one or three parking boots should never be utilised as this can cause serious damage to the detainee if they were to try and drive.

Extension restraints - For particulary strong and violent offenders, axle extension restraints can be applied. Parking boots are the go-to for prisoner transport, which are heavy and cumbersome. But for strong vehicles who want to get a few punches in, the use of parking boots can be particularly hazardous to police officers. So these restraints can be utilised to prevent any damage to other vehicles or property that could be caused by the detainee.

Deep tread tyres - It would be damaging to a vehicle to force them to roll around on tyres with deliberately low pressure. So to increase drag for inmates, a thicker tyre tread is used. This has the added bonus of reducing the amount of replacements required during sentence duration, thus cutting down on costs. Although the tyres used increase the vehicles ability to grip into the floor and push or pull, the officers that respond to any issues with the prisoners within their care are usually able to subue them rapidly and effectively. Prison tyres are ugly and not comfortable to drive on.

Chemically engineered paint - With technological advancements and genius chemical engineering, the paint used on inmates is very specific and can be picked up from quite a distance away with the use of police scanners. It holds its own unique chemical formula that lights up like a christmas tree when scanned with the appropriate digital equipment. The colour is also utilised as a tell-tale sign as it is a highly distinctive and vibrant orange; the only orange paint of its kind. This paint can only be purchased for prisons, by prisons. To be in possession of this paint without the appropriate licensing carries both a hefty fine and a prison sentence. So if an unlicensed vehicle is caught with it, they will very quickly be wearing it. The chemical does, however, hold the unfortunate capacity to seep into and embed itself into the surface of metal through layers of paint, meaning that, even if a vehicle is released and repainted (repainted on the offenders dime might I add), they will still be picked up on police scanners. This leads them to be regularly stopped and questioned by police officers. This can be incredibly irritating to both parties, however it does allow officers to keep an eye on offenders that are on probation. Vehicles that are permitted to be external to the prison whilst on remand are sprayed with just the traceable chemical component of the paint, which is invisible to the naked eye. A small stencil is utilised in the form of the sigil of the police force that made the arrest. This makes them traceable to police, but prevents civilians from seeing that said vehicle could be facing criminal charges. For those that can afford the expensive procedure, this chemical is removeable by removing all layers of paint and primer and grinding down the surface layer of the bare metal. This can be painful, so a general anaesthetic is provided.

Fuel quantity control - As previously displayed in the first cars movie, fuel quantity is important when you want to try and escape from the cruel clutches of community service. The same principal can apply in prisons. Fuel intake is heavily regulated and no inmate is usually permitted any more than 1/8 to 1/6 of a tank at any time. There are exceptions to this in regards to specific jobs that inmates perform as some will require larger quantities to perform their duties. Which is usually met with seething envy.

GPS locators - This method is even more heavily restricted than the use of speed restrictors as it violates multiple data protection laws and vehicle rights legislation. However, in the correct circumstances, it can be very useful. This is only ever used for vehicles that are both incredibly dangerous and have a high flight risk.

Remote engine inhibition - A vehicles engine can be shut down at the push of a button after modifications to the programming of the ECU have been made. This method of inmate control is incredibly new and still in its theoretical stages and thus it is still being debated whether or not it is viable and vehmane. Considering its highly intrusive nature and possibly damaging consequences to both the escapee and the general public, if it were ever to pass into legislation, its useage would be very rare indeed.

Medical care - Each vehicle within the prison system must have a three monthly check up with a desigated mechanic and all new inmates must be checked once a week for the duration of three months. Considering high depression rates within prison systems, a lot of vehicles, especially first time offenders, will stop consuming oil due to stress. This can lead to sickness and fever/overheating, which causes severe issues in the long run.

Not all of the above restraint/tracking methods will be used in all cases as it will depend highly on sentencing requirements for specific individuals and the type of prison that they end up in.

I might update this at a later date if I think of anything else to add. But so far, this is all I've got.

In a nutshell, its INSANELY difficult for any vehicle to escape a prison. So Miles Axelrod is pretty fucked.

[delicateartisantrash]

W.I.P. Soundwave & Knockout

When you can’t decide which ‘Con to hang out with, so both end up folding themselves into a tiny two car garage.

#goals?

[ryuki-draws]

I'm gonna be real I've barely consumed any transformers content and barely know the basics of the lore but I am deeply in love with your local trains au. Like YES dude two "enemies" insisting that their working towards a common goal and will split paths once all is said and done but through their journey get close and fall in love and suddenly they don't really WANNA leave the other but a deal is a deal. And now their going through a little divorce so what I'm sure it will be fine-

.... Right?

First of all, it makes me incredibly happy that the silly trains could've transcended the boundaries of Transformers knowledge and captivate you even without knowing much about TF in general, it means a lot :') Thank you so much! ♥

And yeah, they're experiencing the first real separation after like a year and a half, I'm sure they both have a lot to think about these days. Organize their priorities in life and such. They'll be fiiiine

[violant-apologia]

the corpulent carriage, otherwise known as the "sloppy jalopy",

[icomeinnotpeace]

Just watched Furiosa

And

FUCK YEAHHHH

It’s so fun getting into the hype and single minded adrenaline

No thoughts only YEAHHHHHHHH

Also

The quiet moment with Jack and Furiosa touching foreheads is just so sweet what the hell

This is just such a fun movie

[laufire]

I still haven't gotten around to reading red hood: the hill #2 but. other nitpicks aside, I think it was a bad choice to have jason know the harlowes from his childhood. logistics and the author's utter ignorance & laziness about jason's backstory aside (jason's freaking wiki page tells you he grew up in park row...), I feel that it'd work better if jason got to know dana & co (like those cowboys passing through town in the westerns he claims to take inspiration from), because that would force him to put in some character work in this. otoh maybe that's the issue.

[aiura-stan]

saiki k is 90% stellar comedy and 10% what the FUCK

[sootdude]

rediscovered butterfly soup after several years and man did it get me. anyways I drew ppkm baking ft. high effort background (it took so long)

[academicgangster]

detective gumshoe in big big warm vintage muscle car, send tweet

[hajihiko]

Post-Hope Arc, When Class 77 settles down, what would be the Pairs in your Opinion?

No exclusive 1x1 pairs, it's a huge polyamorous melting pot with various couplings and they all love each other so much regardless.

[rafent]

𖥔 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐒 𖥔

* fell child mastery drabble

' Only like this did end seem as beginning; she-twin, he-twin, Nel and Rafal the corruption of some adam and some eve. '

...

Always did our Child gaze at angels, the heavens of Gradlon never remiss in them.

Dreamy eyes tracked the flights of bat-winged cherubs burning bright, sisters and brothers fulsomely fledged, their scales in wonderful midnight array. They couldn't be less like him; Rafal son of dragons, yet unable to fly.

Rafal named for wind, but unfit for wings.

- ✶ -

Often the flightless one braced his fingers against the sky.

On clear days, it was filled with many siblings. He couldn't match them in their transformations, so instead he imitated their aeronautical exercises the best he could. He climbed to the peak of the highest rock just to jump down. As he bruised on the pits at the craggy base, he clung to the belief that one day such reckless falls would awaken flight. A fool's placebo reconciling him to the unattainable, but it wasn't longing he insisted, it was training.

Other times the method was different. When he bit into raw meat he thought that he’d wake up the next day, a little more changed, a little more dragonlike. The snake he found flattened on the road weighed so light between his hands. It went so heavy down his throat he retched it back up.

It wasn't longing he insisted, it was training.

Rafal insisted, wanted, blistered, sometimes cried. He exhausted his options, his little legs and weary mind, but there was no training he could do for the second thing he really, truly wanted. Maybe that thing he desired just that little bit more. Flightless and twinless, he watched those gamboling children in the clouds.

Always flown in pairs.

- ✶ -

Always did our Child gaze at devils, the hells of Gradlon never remiss in them.

Many behaved as they were created to be; selfish, yearning, wanting, destined for more. Countless fledgling devils of Sombron and each a growing supernova that burned in the greater scheme of his galaxy, where many would die, and others would shine brighter, where that decision was decided by the violent expansions of others or the sanguinary excellence of oneself.

Only blood natural, only power law.

"Failure. You looked at me just now, didn't you? It feels disgusting, you know. Being stared at by someone like you."

"I di–" I didn't.

—crunch.

A sane and lawful beating because only power was law. The other godling wiped his blood off his cheek, never mind that it was shared. Especially because shared. Even afterward his eyes still glowed with calculation, like he were the master, the king, the one who decided every fate weaker than his own. He and all others - he and all siblings who brought Rafal one heartbeat closer to madness in the healthy circulation of their own minds, and the rightful stretch of their wings.

- ✶ -

Ancestor; Three Houses; Brash General; Lonely Heir; Strategist; Doting Sister; Shepherd Exalt. Seven archangels sprung from people's fervent yearning. An eighth for whom Rafal would kneel, pray, and yearn equally if only asked. Awaiting them at the promised crossroads that was, to him, all but promised land.

"Were you waiting long?"

Not really, he said of minutes, stretching an hour from his limbs. The statue encased in stillness until anticipated thaw, the loyal dog not once derelict across winter storm or summer scorch, he sat under the same barren tree without counting the time, for only one reason. Because there was no place he would rather be than their spot of promise. Two to meet here.

Lamb who could never be devil, petal-soft hand entered his, a shy smile for him. Always did Rafal gaze at an angel.

Nil was his name.

- ✶ -

The bruised and haunted eyes with which 'Nil' enters Lythos eventually abates, replaced by shy welcome of the new garden and the new company, even so skittishly clinging to Nel, to his tree, and to the place at her side he must convince others he has always known. Deceive Nel, Nil asks in parting, and Rafal obeys. Deceive Nel, Father orders in parting, and Rafal...obeys.

For many years, for some centuries, it has been Nel and Nil. That it still was, if now also come to several more pairs; they and the Divine One, they and Zelestia, and now Nil and his fruits. Peaches for example were only grown in Lythos, and pink, peachlike Nil finds lush bounty in lieu of arid scarcity agreeable - finds a place here.

Half-bitten fruit nesting in one hold, he used the other to turn a page. Reading on that bench of a sunny patch, there was peace in paradise, even if he knew it wasn't for an imposter. Even if he balked to sleep alone without Nel, nightmares of not yet severed reality startling him awake with a whimper. Gradlon though out of sight did not fail to be totally gone. The serpent planted its whispers, coiled curse heavy over his heart.

—someday, you'll betray this eden.

Peach finished, the apple this time.

- ✶ -

Apocalypse; Eschaton; Ragnarok; serpent-fulfilled prophecy and world's end by any chosen name. The Fell Heir with his scarred ambitions and his belated ascension with none to weather his squall. Rafal meaning gust, and only his breaths flowed through his desolate planet. Rafal named for wind, and his Four Winds departed on divine ark, he the fifth to stay behind for his sins. Peace like the crack of a whip for his kind that halcyon dreams did not suit, and yet there was some of it, perhaps, at the edge of existence.

Only like this did end seem as beginning. Kings and laws and civilizations lost their once tightly clutched meaning, as if everything were simply returned to the cosmic dust from which they had sprung millions of years ago. A fresh and bloodless slate by every last drop of blood corrupted.

Only like this did end seem as beginning; she-twin, he-twin, Nel and Rafal the corruption of some adam and some eve. He sinful, she faithful. They who shed the patterns of old bloodied testaments; they, new age twins born not by womb but reborn by choice.

Only like this, at both end and beginning, he awakened, understood to where and for why his cogs ought turn. Brother bled of his foolish curse by sister's veins, for another twin once more he sat, and once more he waited. Loyal beside her, not once derelict across winter storm or summer scorch, every day he looked after Nel. Every night he looked to the stars where Nil was watching in that true promised land.

- ✶ -

Always did our Child gaze at angels.

Caped in seraph feathers and forsworn of serpent scales, one remarkable Fell Child who showed they could with red and blue, once black and now white, all at once be divine. Their hand extended to another who had once lost his way: our Child, no longer powerless and ravaging to be strong; our Child no longer blinded, reaching for Gradlon to heal where Gradlon had burned.

Rafal whose final paradox breathed within the failed lungs of his world: that by twilight there was, finally, dawn.

"Welcome to you both," divinity welcomed. "It really is a lovely morning."

...

「 RAFAL 」 has mastered: Fell Child

[furubaycrossing]

I go out like once a year for my best friends bday (fancy dinner, clubbing, drinking, shots, the whole thing) and every year I feel older than ever lol

[abbenai]

the cozy smiler + meeeee

[beelxebub]

being stuck in a room with the captain and getting him to infodump on me about animals for a few hours would cure me i think