#Hot Rod Circuit

[ifyourebored]

OK music lovers-here are the rules: Answer each category with a song

* Something to wear- Blue Jeans & White T-Shirts by The Gaslight Anthem * A place to go- Bed by J. Holiday * Animal- Possum Kingdom by Toadies * A number- 2009 by Mac Miller * A color- Blue Carolina by Alkaline Trio * A girl’s name- Julia by Mt. Joy * A boy’s name - Reagan by Killer Mike * Profession- The Pharmacist by Hot Rod Circuit * Day of the week- Wednesday The Third by Saves the Day

[depravednotdeprived]

[punkrockmixtapes]

Hot Rod Circuit - Vampire

[lgetbloody]

thank you @begpleadcrypray for the tag!!!! :33

Rules: Shuffle your "on repeat" playlist and post the first 10 tracks, then tag 10 friends to do the same

1. there's no 'i' in team - taking back sunday

2. american living - northstar

3. two hand touch - hot rod circuit

4. the pharmacist - hot rod circuit

5. timberwolves at new jersey - taking back sunday

6. the pornographers daughter - northstar

7. head club - taking back sunday

8. hands in the sky (big shot) - straylight run

9. the boy - the smashing pumpkins

10. cute without the e (cut from the team) - taking back sunday

no pressure tagging!!!!: @vomitwizard @thatcannibalkitty @repeatdecay @youknowhowido plus anyone else who wants to join :D

[growthhyp]

I was looking at a rummage sale and saw this amulet with a bear on it. I am a geeky guy do you think it will make me look cool or hot at all?

The Bear Amulet

You blinked, squinting at the sudden burst of light as you stepped out of the cool, shadowy alley and into the sunlit garage sale. The concrete underfoot was a stark contrast to the cobblestone street behind you, a patchwork of greasy stains and discarded rubber. You were a geek through and through, more comfortable with circuits than crowds, but something had drawn you here today. Perhaps it was the curiosity of what treasures the neighbors had deemed worthless. Or maybe it was the towering figure of the burly man, his arms folded over a chest that could double as a shelf, watching over the assortment of knickknacks and dust-covered relics like a modern-day Viking guarding his hoard.

Your eyes scanned the tables, passing over chipped mugs, yellowed paperbacks, and a lamp that looked like it hadn't seen electricity since the '70s. Nothing caught your fancy until your gaze fell upon a small, wooden amulet nestled among a pile of costume jewelry. A bear was carved into its surface, its fierce gaze seemingly boring into yours. The moment your fingers brushed against the rough wood, an inexplicable pull tugged at your core. Without a second thought, you plucked it from its resting place and held it up to the light. It was cheap, probably not even real wood, but there was something… mesmerizing about it. The bear's eyes seemed to gleam with a life of their own, and before you knew it, you were fishing out a few bucks to claim it as yours.

Back in your home, the air-conditioned bliss was a welcome respite from the heat outside. You sat cross-legged on the floor, the amulet lying in the palm of your hand. As the chilly air hit the metal, the room was filled with a faint, golden glow. The bear's eyes grew brighter, almost taunting you to put it on. With a shrug, you slipped the leather thong over your neck, feeling the weight of the amulet settle between your collarbones. Looking into your bedroom mirror, you couldn't help but smirk at your reflection. The geek with the bear necklace was a new look for you, but there was something… right about it. The bear's gaze seemed to meet yours in the mirror, and you felt a strange kinship with the beast.

Days turned into weeks, and the hair growth was undeniable. It started as a faint shadow on your cheeks, but before you knew it, your chin was adorned with a thick, dark beard that rivaled that of any Viking. Your chest grew more hairy, and your back and arms were covered in a furry pelt that thickened by the day. The heat was unbearable; you found yourself shedding layers of clothing whenever you could, leaving you in nothing but your boxers at home. The air was thick with the scent of male musk, a heady aroma that filled every corner of your home. Despite the initial shock, you couldn't deny the allure of this newfound virility. You felt powerful, like you could take on the world with nothing but your bare hands.

Then, one sweltering afternoon, as you lay on your couch, the amulet's odor grew too potent to ignore. It hung around your neck, a constant reminder of the transformation it had brought upon you. With a grimace, you took it off and headed to the bathroom. The warm water of the sink washed away the grime and sweat, and as the wooden veneer began to dissolve, the true nature of the amulet revealed itself. Underneath the cruddy exterior, a gleaming gold bear shone back at you, its eyes set with glittering emeralds. You gasped, realizing you had been wearing a fortune around your neck, all this time. The amulet was no mere trinket but a relic of value far beyond your wildest dreams.

As you dried your hands, a sudden heat surged through your veins, and your cock twitched in your shorts, demanding attention. You couldn't fight the urge anymore; you pulled it out, feeling its hardness like a steel rod, pulsating with the beat of your heart. The moment your hand wrapped around your shaft, your body began to change.

You couldn't believe what was happening. You had never felt this kind of all-consuming lust before. Each stroke of your hand sent waves of pleasure through you, and as the precum leaked from the tip of your cock, it seemed to sizzle in the air like liquid fire. Your voice had dropped an octave, now a gruff rumble that matched the primal desires burning within you. The amulet grew warm against your chest, its bear seeming to roar in approval of your transformation.

As you stroked, your body began to shift and contort. Your muscles bulged outwards, tearing through your clothes like they were made of tissue paper. Your chest grew so wide that your ribs felt like they could crack, and your abs became a series of rock-hard slabs that rippled with every breath. Your biceps and triceps swelled to the size of bowling balls, your veins popping with the pressure of the blood surging through them. Your legs grew thick and powerful, and you felt as if you could crush concrete with a single flex.

The bear on the amulet grew more defined, the gold seemingly alive as it absorbed the light in the room. Your cock was now a monstrous appendage, stretching to lengths you never thought possible. You jerked it harder, feeling the power of the transformation coursing through every inch of you. The precum was a river now, lubricating the furious pace of your hand as you worked towards climax. Your mind was rewritten with each stroke, your love for computers and fading like a distant memory. All you could think of now was the gym, the heavy weights, the grunts of effort and the sweet scent of sweat.

As the pressure built, so did the heat. Your skin was on fire, not from embarrassment, but from the raw power that surged through your veins. Each grunt grew deeper, more primal, until it was a roar that matched the bear on the amulet. Your cock was a living thing in your hand, a beast that demanded to be fed with pleasure until it could take no more.

With a final, guttural grunt, you erupted. Cum shot out of you like a geyser, painting the floor with sticky ropes of white-hot ecstasy. The moment of release was accompanied by a final, earth-shattering shift in your body. Your cock grew even larger, reaching down to your knees as you stumbled backward, the weight of your newfound manhood almost too much to bear. The muscles across your chest and back bulged, stretching your skin taut as you flexed, feeling the power that now coursed through you. You had become a creature of pure, unbridled strength, a man that could bend steel bars and hoist cars with ease.

Your eyes snapped open, the world coming into focus with newfound clarity. You looked down at your transformed body and couldn't help but smirk at the reflection of the Adonis that now stood before you. The bear on the amulet seemed to be smiling back, as if proud of the beast it had created. You felt like a god, your confidence soaring through the stratosphere. You flexed your arms, the muscles popping and dancing under your skin like a symphony of power, and you grunted in satisfaction. The sound reverberated through the room, a declaration of dominance that sent a shiver down your spine.

[revelboo]

Whats your favorite fic you wrote so far?

Honestly, you probably wouldn’t guess it, but Circuits and Wires- I’ve always had a soft spot for any iteration of Wheeljack.

Circuits and Wires Pt 3

Wheeljack x Reader

• It keeps running in a loop in his processor as he stares up at the ceiling. The fear in your eyes and the frantic feel of your little heart hammering against his servos after he’d scooped you up. That blind anger that had twisted about his spark. You’d played it off with strained laughter later, but Sunstreaker had scared you no matter what you say. And you’d tried to soothe him. Wrapping your little arms around his servo to comfort him so he wouldn’t worry.

• Servos lightly caging your small form sprawled on his chassis, he listens to the sound of your breathing and the steady beat of your heart. And wonders why you stuck with him this long. There are other Autobots that would gladly take you, ones that would have more time for you. Be better suited to caring for you, but instead you’re the one worrying over him. Reminding him to refuel and recharge when he forgets. Everytime he’s seriously thought about introducing you to Bumblebee or Hot Rod for your own safety, the idea has left him feeling ill.

• He tries to protect you, but accidents do happen and you’re just so small. You’ve made him more careful, because it’s no longer just him in danger if something goes wrong. His work involves taking risks and he’s accepted that, but he can’t gamble with you. He’s never had a lab partner before that stayed so long. Eventually, usually sooner rather than later, they all have enough. Decide he’s not worth their time or bother. That he’s hopeless. So why do you stay?

• Running a servo gently down your spine, you stretch in your sleep, legs sliding against him. Making a soft noise. Sooner or later, you’ll have enough of him, because everyone always does. But for now, he just wants to cling to these quiet moments of companionship. Because you’re here with him and he can pretend that you’ll stay even if it’s a lie. “Five more minutes,” you grumble as he makes another pass of his servos down your back.

• “Go back to sleep,” he murmurs, ghosting the tip of a servo over your cheek and you grab onto it, hugging it to you with another grumble he can’t understand. And his spark aches as he shutters his optics, feeling you hold onto him like you’ll never let go. He wants so badly to believe it. Needs to believe it, because the thought of going back to how it was before you? It’s so lonely, it hurts.

Previous

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[franksongofthemoment]

January 3rd, 2012

[utrofm]

hot rod circuit – sorry about tomorrow (2002)

[sparrowsortadrawzzz]

oh my stars I didn't realize i had so many little comics and snippets of Blindsighted fully sketched out- THIS ONE I CAN MAKE A DUMP FOR!!

Hot Rod with Spike n Carly (top left), shocked Beekachu face (top right), Hot Rod and Bee with a scaled up Nintendo switch Spike made him 💀 (bottom)

i gave Bee chronic pain because projectinggg :D for him, it's caused by his wires being loose, causing occasional sort of short-circuits that can cause pain! he can put it back into place, and Ratchet can fix him up temporarily, but his material is a bit different, causing sautering to not bond as well with him. it's sorta like how people with connective tissue disorders like Ehlers Danlos Syndrome have loose joints that move around!

RUH ROH THE GIRLIES ARE FIGHTING- this has. so much lore behind it that im not gonna share rn cuz that's too much XD

OKAY THIS NEXT ONE, BEE RUNS AWAY FROM CYBERTRON WITH THUNDERCRACKER FIRST TO GO TO EARTH CUZ THEY BOTH REALIZED THE WAR WAS IMMORAL, THIS IS BEFORE THE WAR IS TAKEN TO EARTH AND HE LEAVES A NOTE BASICALLY TELLING OPTIMUS "youre going down the wrong path, I'm leaving Cybertron on my own path, don't look for me until you get your act together. –B-127" SO HERE'S OP'S REACTION TO THAT... (don't worry they make up it's fine!)

THEY FELL IN LOVE ON EARTH SO here's them snuggling and having a kiss on Cybertron after the war is over! ^^

ill explain their dynamic LATERRR >:333

[dallasgallant]

Time period post: picnics, luggage and cruising

I’ve did a few overviews of this information before when I talked about car and teen culture, and motels. My most recent being on drag races and hot rodding, well another crucial aspect of teenage care culture is cruising! I’m going to go into a bit more detail and throw in some road trip/car travel detail as well. Luggage, picnics and packed lunches etc. I’ve already done maps and a post on busses.

Packed along-

While driving and taking trips, a lot of people didn’t have the spare cash for a stop at a cafe and while Fast food was picking up in the 1960s people didn’t stop as frequently. For day trips it’d be common to pack a sack lunch, or for road trips while meals. This is why you see picnic benches still at rest stops or park areas across the country. People would stop and eat or cook (if a place had a grill) their own meal. Picnics are also their own event either at a table or on a blanket, the common food of sandwiches, potato or pasta salad, fruits - hamburgers or hotdogs if there’s a grill. Drinks in big thermos’s’ . If well off some families would have a collapsible table in the back of their car or portable stove tops (camping kind)

Speaking of packing… suitcases! The rolling suitcase didn’t come around until 1970 and it wasn’t until the 1980s when it started being widely used! (Sort of like backpacks for school and not just hikes/army in the 1990s). Prior to you’d have trunks or the luggable suitcase with a hard plastic exterior. Like trunks, you’d sometimes see stickers all over them if someone was internationally traveled. They came in multiple sizes. The most popular brand was sampsonite.

Chores-

It wasn’t all that uncommon upon getting their license teens would be sent out to pick something up from the store and chores like that. It also wasn’t uncommon for these chores to take forever… as usually they’d want to show off the fact they’d have a car and pick up a friend to drive around or grab a bite.

The excitement and freedom of cars, even for a short time, cannot be understated.

Cruising-

Talked about this one a little bit in my hot rod/racing post, but I’m going to include some definitions.

Cruising: driving a vehicle at a leisurely or slow pace for the purposes of socializing, enjoying the road, and showcasing cars to onlookers or spectators.

It’s about the journey more than the destination. Streets with more stoplights were desirable due to the greater ability to socialize with other cars or people on the sidewalk. At times they’d also collect in parking lots or drive ins to socialize, break, Change cars etc.

Strip: Main cruising road, usually straight with lots of traffic signals

Circuit: making a round/full round of the major active streets

While there were those with their own cars, often muscle cars, hot rods - real car guys, it was common to use the family car! It’s night, parents are home from work or sleeping— it’s all yours, conditionally of course. Really to cruising teenagers they felt like they owned the night, especially the later it got. I can’t help but think about towards the end of the book part of the fight was that pony wanted to go for a ride (likely cruise) rather than start his theme.

Common activities (besides the drive):

Mooning (pull your pants down and show someone your ass driving by)

Laying rubber

Go to a makeout/sex spot

Impromptu race

Show off/check out other cars

Look for friends or a date to pick up

Drag race (certain people)

Chinese fire drill (get out and run around car at a red light)

By the mid 1960s there was an increased police presence on the streets, watching for packed cars or not stopping in parking lots, frequent U-turns etc. it was in the 1980s the total crackdown really started… some laws put into place over being overturned a year ago!!! But the 1950s and 1960s were the real golden days.

[im-just-echo]

Almost done!

WIP

Hot Rod from my hidden prince au

Au hot rod is optimus's sparkling who is created through the weird horrible immaculate conception I've designed very similar to bloodborne for some reason (God help me I love horror so ugh my bad) he's the most human looking of his family of being able to wander around without a glamor except for the coverings on his wings, which came out stunted twisted and deformed, so presenting him to Sentinel for the first time Optimus had his wings covered and Sentinel had custom metal magical Wing covers made which he still uses to this day.

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1955 Chrysler C-300

1955 Chrysler C-300: A Glimpse into the Golden Age of American Automobiles

The year 1955 marked a significant milestone in the history of American automotive engineering and design. It was a time when automakers were pushing the boundaries of performance, style, and innovation, and one car that epitomized this spirit was the 1955 Chrysler C-300. Often regarded as the first modern American muscle car, the C-300 not only represented a radical departure from conventional automobiles but also left an enduring legacy in the world of automotive enthusiasts. In this extensive exploration, we delve into the history, design, performance, and cultural impact of the 1955 Chrysler C-300, a symbol of the golden age of American automobiles.

The Birth of a Legend

The 1955 Chrysler C-300, where "C" stood for "Continental," was more than just a car; it was a statement of power, luxury, and style. Born out of Chrysler's desire to reclaim its position as a dominant force in American automobile manufacturing, the C-300 was a bold departure from the brand's previous offerings. It was the brainchild of Chrysler engineer and visionary, Bob Rodger, who saw an opportunity to marry a high-performance V8 engine with a full-sized luxury car, creating a new breed of American automobile.

Design: Classic Elegance with a Touch of Sport

The design of the 1955 Chrysler C-300 was a harmonious blend of classic elegance and sporty aesthetics. The car featured clean, uncluttered lines with a distinctive grille that became one of its signature design elements. The iconic, vertically stacked quad headlights and a wide, bold grille made a bold and unmistakable statement on the road. The subtle yet pronounced fins at the rear added a touch of sophistication and conveyed a sense of motion even when the car was at a standstill.One of the most striking design elements of the C-300 was its two-tone color scheme. Many C-300s featured a contrasting roof color, which accentuated the car's sleek profile. The attention to detail and craftsmanship in the exterior design set the C-300 apart as a true luxury automobile.

The interior of the C-300 was equally impressive. It featured sumptuous materials, tasteful chrome accents, and a driver-centric dashboard. Plush leather seats provided both comfort and support, making long drives a pleasure. The cabin was spacious, allowing passengers to enjoy the ride in style and luxury.

Performance: The Birth of American Muscle

What truly set the 1955 Chrysler C-300 apart was its groundbreaking performance. Under the hood, it was powered by the legendary Hemi V8 engine, which had already gained a reputation for its power and efficiency. In the case of the C-300, the Hemi V8 was tuned to deliver a staggering 300 horsepower, an unprecedented figure for a production car of its time. This made the C-300 the most powerful American car of 1955.The combination of a high-performance engine and advanced engineering made the C-300 a formidable force on the racetrack. In fact, it dominated the NASCAR circuit in its debut year, winning eight of the 16 races it entered. This racing success solidified the C-300's reputation as a true performance car, earning it the nickname "Banker's Hot Rod."

Engineering Innovations

The 1955 Chrysler C-300 introduced several engineering innovations that set the stage for future developments in the automotive industry. The Hemi V8 engine was at the forefront of these innovations. It featured hemispherical combustion chambers, which allowed for better airflow and combustion efficiency. This, in turn, contributed to the engine's remarkable power output and smooth operation.

Another notable innovation was the use of power-assisted brakes and power steering, both of which enhanced the car's drivability and safety. These features were a testament to Chrysler's commitment to providing a superior driving experience.

Cultural Impact and LegacyThe-1955-Chrysler-C-300

The 1955 Chrysler C-300 had a profound cultural impact that reverberates to this day. It represented a paradigm shift in American automotive manufacturing, heralding the dawn of the muscle car era. The C-300's racing successes on the NASCAR circuit elevated its status and contributed to the popularity of stock car racing in the United States.The car's blend of luxury and performance appealed to a new generation of consumers who desired both power and style. It embodied the American spirit of innovation and ambition, and its success inspired other automakers to explore the concept of high-performance production cars.

The legacy of the C-300 extends beyond its time. It laid the foundation for the muscle car movement of the 1960s and 1970s, influencing iconic models like the Ford Mustang, Chevrolet Camaro, and Dodge Charger. The C-300 remains a coveted collector's item, a symbol of an era when American automakers pushed the limits of engineering and design.

Conclusion

The 1955 Chrysler C-300 is a testament to the ingenuity, ambition, and creativity that defined the golden age of American automobiles. It represented a bold departure from the norm, marrying luxury with high-performance engineering in a way that captured the imagination of a generation. As a cultural icon and a pioneering force in the automotive world, the C-300 continues to inspire and captivate enthusiasts and collectors, ensuring its enduring legacy in the annals of automotive history.

[quantumlogician]

Restoration efforts have always been this fickle piece of administration; always needing to be done, yet always pushed to the back burner. There was a bleed somewhere between the willingness to be proactive and the mouthful of false promises spat out on meeting tables every deca-cycle.

Starscream, having enough of toiling around, enough of the constant critique of him soaking up the glory of wearing his bloodied crown when his own council was holding him back, stopped playing by the laws of this useless place. He made a personal vow never to return to the old ways of the Divine, to never sit on his servos and wait for the pleasure and the permission to bolster change.

—— And yet, here he stood with Divine's chosen, crossing the crumbling, dented walkway of a forgotten city. The ashes had long been washed away by many natural seasons, leaving the dull polish of the city that burned brighter than any supernova. All rough edges have been smoothed, rounded by the kindling.

The sight of it gouged a hollow pit in the Seeker's coils— an ache at the base of his wings carrying his most sensitive circuits, an abnormal painful warmth outlining his frame that did not rise from his cables.

They only skirted by the perimeter, vanishing into the distant metal-lands into some old mine that might have some salvageable resources ( or so Starscream was told ). The fitted scanner on his wrist pinged online and panned out from his radius, humming in search for the faintest spark of energon that might have crystalized in the 5 million vorns they [ the Cybertronians ] have been gone.

" I know it's drab work, " he commented, vaniquishing the silence between them. Penetrating through this awkward veil that has since existed since Rodimus' undertaking of the Matrix, since— well, since forever now.

It may have been forever, but Starscream counted it by the cycle, by the klik. His plating itched, wanting to act stupid, wanting to be someone else, someone who was naive and kind. Someone who Hot Rod recognized and flashed his winning smile to, but Starscream was old now and Hot Rod was dead.

He walks ahead.

" I couldn't verify the report that my environmentalist council provided to me because verification processes don't quite exist yet. " Not a big deal, not for now, but he's sure it will become a problem later. " If nothing else, we have gut instinct. It can't be impossible to decipher whether or not our food supply exist in these tunnels or not. " His tone remains painfully distant and formal; stranger-like and cold.

Closed — @risingxsparks

[planet-of-the-machines]

Heartbeat (Part 3)

*The intruder drops from the vent to the floor, allowing the worker and heavy Drones to get a better look at the enemy. It is an unusually small Murder Drone — one about half of Uzi’s old size… discounting her black tail, longer than the disassembler was tall, thicker than the one she saw on N and with multiple green lit branch sprouts and… fins? The drone herself (it at least looked like a girl) had short, white hair that turned blue at the tips, and was wearing a blue turtleneck with a cleavage window (not that female drones had any cleavage) under a sleeveless, white trench coat. Oddly, her eyes were green instead of the yellow she saw on N, as were the five… bulbs on the top of her head, and all the caution patterns on her body.*

Bee: “Do we shoot the child–?”

Uzi: [[PTSD Vietnam Flashback.MP3]] “NOT SOON ENOUGH!!!”

*Uzi grabs the laser pistol from her yellow friend. Firing at the kid (?) Murder Drone landing a few hits that almost immediately heal away.* 

*Uzi didn’t have long to take this in, as before she knew it, the smaller drone was right up in her face, sword in hand (well, technically it was where her right hand was supposed to be), and was swinging. Uzi shut her eyes and threw her hands up in defense…*

*Except the blow never came.*

*Opening her eyes, she found that her right forearm had shifted like her leg had earlier. Instead of a wheel, however, it was instead replaced by a shortsword, which was now blocking her smaller opponent from ending her life. Said opponent– G, judging by the name on her yellow armband –unlocked their blades and prepared for another swing.*

*The next several seconds consisted of the purple-haired WD/HD/?? Blocking a rapid-fire assault from the small Murder Drone, as well as a few attempted impalement attempts using their tail. This only stops once she realizes she;s being shot at by Orion (using a rifle he picked up from a guard at the Elite Guard HQ earlier). The disassembler deploys her wings and launches herself at the red and blue HD. She grabs onto his left arm, driving her sword into his shoulder, causing him to drop his rifle. G then attempts to wrap her tail around him to let her nanites finish the job. Seeing this, Uzi unwittingly turns her legs into jet engines and flings herself at G, using her shortsword to cut off her long tail.*

*What followed was the Disassembly Drone screaming so loud it nearly caused the audio sensors of everyone nearby to short-circuit. Uzi, meanwhile, has been carried into the wall by inertial.*

*Bumblebee uses the opportunity to try and hit her with a pipe, hitting her on the shoulder blade area. The yellow HD promptly almost gets a shortsword to the face, which he narrowly dodges, only to get a bird-like foot (-!?) to the chest – sending him falling onto his back, and G towards the staircase–*

Wheeljack: *returns carrying various tools and a foldable stool* “Okay boys, let’s–”

*–only to crash right into the returning mad scientist. Landing in a heap, the smaller drone stabs his visor, effectively blinding him in his right eye. She then flies into the stairwell and upwards.*

Bee: “Should we…  follow her?” 

Uzi: *getting up, balancing on her jet engine legs* “Of course we should, we wounded it!” *gestures to G’s severed tail* “That little midget won’t know what hit her!” *starts cackling* [[I HAVE SUPERPOWERS!!!]]

Orion Pax: *clutching his shoulder wound, which is leaking oil* “Didn’t you say that N regenerated his entire head after you shot it off?” *she stops laughing, and her manic smile droops while the larger drone sighs* “Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you, Uzi, but… this is no cause to get in over your head.”

Wheeljack: *screaming in pain from the corner* “MY EYE!!!” 

Hot Rod: “Well, anyone got any other bright ideas? Besides charging straight in like in the movies?” 

Bee: “I might have just gotten one…” *everyone, sans the half-blind scientist, turns to look at the yellow HD* “…but you’re not gonna like it.”

Author’s Note: For those of you wondering, Serial Designation G is Duck Anon’s OC, used with their permission. Now if you excuse me, I need to get to bed.