#reckless driver

[eztilsolar]

This song is very Driftrod core and SOMEONE PLEASE TALK TO ME ABOUT IT, IM GOING TO EXPLODE

[poprocklyrics]

And I tell you all the time to keep your eyes on the road But you love me like that You're a reckless driver And one day it will kill us if I don't let go

reckless driver, Lizzy McAlpine

[madsy-prongs]

Reckless Driver is for Emma Swan and Killian Jones.

Emma is our careful driver and Killian is our reckless driver.

And we aren't talking about driving

[arrestdujour]

Jonathan Glen McCannon

Kuna, ID

Age: 41 Arrest Date: Sat 4/8 Time: 3:07 PM Status: OUT

Idaho State Police

M Driving-Reckless

I49-1401(1) Criminal Charge

[listentothistrackbitch]

The key change in reckless driver is too good. And then the abrupt end UGH

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"T.T.C. CAR OPERATOR COMMITTED FOR TRIAL," Toronto Star. March 8, 1934. Page 3. --- Accused of Endangering Safety of Persons - Charge Follows Crash ---- Alfred Kinsman. T.T.C. one-man car operator, charged with endangering the safety of persons, was committed to trial by Magistrate Browne in police court this morning. Bail was set at $500.

The charge arose out of a collision that involved an oil truck and a street car on the morning of Feb. 12, at the corner of Parliament and Dundas Sts.

"I got on a street car the morning of Feb. 12 at Pape and Danforth Ave.," testified Mary Heppleston. "I paid my fare and got a seat. We were going along Dundas to Parliament St. and we stopped at Parliament to pick up a passenger. When we started up again I felt a collision and was thrown across the street car back against the seat again and then fell on the floor and someone fell on me." She said she received injuries to her back, chest, ribs and side, and was still taking treatment for them.

"No one asked us if we were hurt. The inspector took over the car."

"I was driving north on Parliament St. to Rosedale," said a truck driver for a big oil company. saw this car stopped, picking up passengers. I saw the car start up again and I had to swing to the west to avoid it but its front end hit the rear of my truck."

"What happened to both vehicles?" queried the crown. "The truck had the pipes at the back broken and the street car was rocked." "The first thing I did," said witness, "was to shut the pipes to prevent the oil going all over the street." Kinsman, he said, didn't leave the scene of the accident.

Pavement Was Wet "Was the pavement slippery?" "It was wet."

"In reality you hit the street car," declared Defence Consel I. S. Fairty. "You were coming at such a high rate of speed that you skidded into the side of the street car."

"It is impossible to go at a high rate of speed in a truck as heavy as that," retorted witness. "I was going at about 10 or 13 miles per hour."

Witness admitted he had not driven that type of truck very long.

"I was just going to cross over Parliament St. ahead of the street car when I saw this truck coming north," said George Goddard, a witness, who was driving his own car. "I stopped and I saw this truck swing west in order to miss hitting the street car, but his rear end swung over and hit the side of the street car."

Witness said that he had stopped when he saw the truck coming, although the street car didn't.

Cross-examined, witness said the truck had "skidded" into the side.

Defence contended that there was no case established. Mr. Browne decided otherwise. "He will be committed for trial."

"Don't get into trouble again in that time, or I will bring you back and send you down to the reformatory." Magistrate Browne warned Parkyn Coates, 17, charged with theft, as he put him on probation for two years. He was caught sleeping in the basement of an unoccupied house. He had in his possession a silver cigarette case that he said he stole out of a parked car.

"He has no record, but he has been causing trouble," declared Crown Attorney C. L. Snyder. "He has the habit of running away from home." His father admitted accused had been in juvenile court several times before.

"Do you think a mental examination is necessary?" queried the bench. "No." replied the father.

"Well, he is young yet. I will give him a chance and put him on probation," decided Magistrate Browne.

[rastronomicals]

7:59 PM EDT April 29, 2024:

Timbuk 3 - "Reckless Driver" From the album Eden Alley (1988)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

File under: MacDonalds

[emotionalripple]

...guilty...

[s0ftpining]

i can't be your saviour

[troublebastard]

'reckless driver'

[noirsnonsense]

james "reckless driver" potter and lily "careful driver" evans

[littlespoonevan]

rewatching s1 this time around has actually left me sooooo fascinated by buck and abby's relationship??????? bc what we know of it in its aftermath is actually completely visible on screen during the season???

in episode 6 when abby is talking to carla about a potential valentines day date with buck she outright says she's fine with him being a boytoy and it just being something casual so she can feel good in herself again and is almost complaining that buck is taking it so seriously by trying to go slow. and the thing is, i don't think her stance on that ever changes???????

she absolutely cares about him and appreciates him for everything he does for her (both in helping support her with her mom and what he does in helping her find her way back to herself) but i don't think she ever really wanted or needed him to be more than that????

on the flipside, you have buck who's experiencing feelings he's never felt before and is so totally overwhelmed by this woman who's making him realise real connection is possible and it feels a million times better than the way he's vied for people's attention before. and there's something a little heartbreaking in the way he questions if he's ready for it to be something real. because bobby encourages him to step into the relationship fully and in the end he does do that

but abby doesn't really want him to???

so you have buck, fully committed and ready to be the partner he thinks abby needs, and abby, who is so completely unable to be that partner in return because she wants to navigate the next stage of her life alone

and aksdjfh it's just!!!! so!!!!! interesting!!!!!!!!! and i am once again BEGGING someone to make a gifset/video/edit/anything for them with reckless driving by lizzy mcalpine

[racewinners-landoandsam]

the thing that pisses me off the most is that lando is always the first to say how amazing the team is. when they do well, when they win, it's a win for the team. when they make a mistake, when they lose, it's his mistake, nothing to do with the team. doesn't matter if it's a messed up pitstop or a mistake on track, it's always his mistake.

'you need the team' a team that's happy to win with him, but won't help him win.

'you need oscar' well oscar's made it obvious that he doesn't want to help lando get the championship, is even risking the team championship for his own agenda.

which he ultimately ended up losing out on. oscar is ahead of carlos in the championship, he's catching charles, but by what he chose to do at the beginning, it ended with charles scoring more points than him, and is risking lando's championship. it's reckless and stupid, and mclaren should be doing more to help the better driver

[kayvsworld]

i do still think it's like. absolutely unhinged that tony's parents died in a car accident and he still drives like he does

[zombiecicada]

@post-it-notes7

*attacks you with the brain rot blorbos*

Wolfbell AU Arthur and Falspar meet Mirror Madness Arthur and Falspar.

[neighbourscat]

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 , grind by cochise

his car sat purring at the curb outside the diner, gleaming under the streetlights. the soft hum of the engine was the only sound besides the faint murmur of the city in the distance. nicholas was leaning against the driver’s side door, music low, nodding slightly to the beat that he could hear.

you came out of the diner, your silhouette framed by the neon sign above the door, your smile wide and easy. you are something else .. he told himself. nicholas had watched you for weeks, waiting for the right moment to ask you out, always a little too caught up in his world of fast cars and faster escapes. but now, here you were, walking toward him like you’d always belonged in his orbit, your steps light, your eyes shining under the streetlights.

“no’way you drive this . .. .” nicholas smiled that half-smile of his and nodded toward the car. you glanced at it again, a sleek, black machine that looked like it was made for speed. “who’d you steal this from?” you asked, a teasing edge to your voice, as if you weren’t sure a guy like him — quiet, unassuming — could handle something this powerful.

“hop in,” he hummed, opening the passenger door for you. his voice was calm, almost casual, but inside, his heart was pounding. this was the part he was good at — the driving. talking? not so much. but behind the wheel, he came alive.

you slid into the seat, running your fingers over the smooth leather, your eyes darting over the dashboard like you were trying to figure out what kind of night you’d agreed to. nicholas slipped into the driver’s seat, connected his phone to the aux, and hit play. the song started slow, a low and pulsing beat, syncing perfectly with the rhythm of his heart.

without a word, he eased the car into gear and pulled away from the curb. at first ( like the music ), it was slow, casual, like any normal drive, the city lights flickering past in a blur of gold and white. you leaned back in your seat, one hand out the window, catching the breeze as it rushed by. you looked over at him, your lips curved into a smile, but there was curiosity in your eyes . .. . like something more had been on his mind. you almost spoke .. but you were too late —

— with a flick of his wrist, nicholas pushed the car into overdrive!

the engine roared to life, the tires squealing against the pavement as the vehicle shot forward; the city fading into a messy, hazy streak of neon lights and asphalt that made your eyes hurt. immediately and for your own safety, you grabbed the edge of your seat. nicholas didn’t say anything, just let the now-blasting music guide him — every twist of the wheel, every shift of the gears, every tap of the brakes synced perfectly to the rhythm.

you sat completely stiff, her fingers curled tightly around the seat. your breath came quick, eyes impossibly wide and locked on the road ahead; his foot pressed on the gas . .. . harder than his foot should have. you saw the way his eyes focused, keen and distant, like the car was the only thing that mattered .. . “nicholas?!” you had to shout over his music.

nicholas didn’t speak. he never did when he drove, not like this. his world shrank to the size of the road, to the hum of the engine, the feel of the car’s tires gripping the asphalt as he flew through the city. his foot pushed against the gas even harder, and you both surged forward, weaving through the lanes like the road belonged to him.

your heart pounded in your chest, faster with every second that the car picked up speed. you wanted to say something — wanted to tell him to slow down, to stop; taking the road signs as suggestions — but the words caught in your throat. all you could do was clutch the edge of your seat more, your gold rings digging into the skin of your fingers, your pulse thundering in your ears as the world turned into a blur.

the car dove into a sharp turn without warning, and you were thrown sideways, your body jolting against the door. your breath hitched, fear rising like bile in the back of your throat. nicholas didn’t seem to notice, his eyes never leaving the road, the expression on his face unreadable, calm. too calm .. way too calm for your liking.

the tires squealed as he swerved around another corner, the back end of the car skidding just long enough for you to feel it — the brief moment where the car lost control before nicholas corrected it, spinning the wheel with practiced ease. the force of the turn pushed you back against the seat, your heart hammering as you braced yourself, gripping anything you could hold on to.

you glanced at him, your eyes searching his face, but there was no fear there. only focus. the road stretched out and he was locked into it, every movement smooth, precise. but to you, it felt absolutely reckless — fucking dangerous. the way he pushed the car, daring the speed to catch up. the wind rushed in through the open windows, hard and cold, whipping your summer-mermaid braids into your face. your body tightened, each breath shallow, your anxiety building with every swerve, every time the speedometer ticked higher.

nicholas didn’t flinch, didn’t blink as he cut across lanes. he drove like the night was a race he was determined to win, like there was no stopping until he had conquered the road beneath him. the music roared in his ears, keeping time with the pulse of the engine, drowning out the world ( and your complaints and pleas ).

another sharp turn, and the car fishtailed before straightening out, your body jerking violently to the side. this time, a small gasp escaped you, your hand flying to the door as if it could anchor you to something solid. you didn’t look at him now — you couldn’t. all you could do was watch the road, praying that the next corner wouldn’t be the last, that the car wouldn’t lose control completely.

but for nicholas, this was like breathing. the rush, the thrill of being perfectly in tune with the machine. he felt the bumps of the road, the way the car responded to his every move, the thrill of knowing he could push it harder, faster. “fuck!” you cried out. nicholas could feel the tension radiating off you, sensed the way your breath hitched with every acceleration, but he didn’t slow down. he couldn’t. this was where he belonged — at the very edge, where speed and danger blurred into something exhilarating.

death, you couldn’t help but think.

the tires screeched again as nicholas took a corner too fast, the car spinning; you felt the ground slip away. your heart actually leapt into your throat, your nails dug into the leather of the seat as you braced for the impact that never came. he pulled the car back under control with a flick of the wrist, his face still calm, his focus never wavering.

all you could do was hold on, your mind racing with only one word: DEATH. the fear and idea of DEATH was freezing cold in your veins now, sinking deeper with every second that his car sped forward.

finally, after what felt like an eternity of heart-stopping turns and breakneck speed, nicholas eased off the gas. the engine’s roar softened, and the car slowed as he approached an open stretch of road. the adrenaline still surged through you, your body trembling, your fingers aching from holding on so tightly.

nicholas blinked over at you, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since he fastened his seatbelt. he twisted the dial of his radio backward, but didn’t speak. he didn’t need to ( though he needed to ), the look on your face told him everything; and how your braids were all over.

the car rolled to a final stop at the side of the road, the engine idling softly now, the night settling back in around like it had been holding its breath. you sat there, your chest rising and falling, your hands still clutching the seat, your eyes wide and filled with something between ( little ) awe and fear.

nicholas looked back at the road, his hands resting lightly on the wheel. “i .. can explain,” he spoke then, low and surprisingly gentle, apologetically.

“now.”