#lost taxi drivers

[rexandbalances]

A Poll About Airports

Is the surrounding 10km or 6mi near your nearest major airport kinda sketchy? Reblog and add anything interesting you’ve seen near your local airplane launch and landing site.

[nothing--good]

Polish Movie Posters

[frances73]

martyyyyy

[jamesusilljournal]

Nick Charge

[nero-neptune]

“Good movies are always better when you watch them with someone.” - Ed Chigliak (Northern Exposure)

[x-heesy]

𝗡𝝝𝗜𝗭𝗘 𝟮 𝗠𝗘𝝠𝗧 𝗬𝝠 🥩

𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗞 𝗣𝗨𝗡𝗞 𝗠𝝠𝗚𝗜𝗖𝗞 ✨

𝗪𝗘𝗜𝗥𝗗 𝗜𝗦 𝝠 𝗖𝝝𝗠𝗣𝗟𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧 / 𝗠𝝝𝝝𝗗 𝗕𝝝𝝠𝗥𝗗 /𝗦𝗘𝗫𝗗𝗥𝗨𝗚𝗦𝝠𝗡𝗗𝗦𝝝𝗖𝗞𝗦𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛𝗛𝝝𝗟𝗘𝗦 / 𝗙𝗟𝗨𝗙𝗙 𝗬𝝝𝗨, 𝗬𝝝𝗨 𝗙𝗟𝗨𝗙𝗙𝗜𝗡 𝗙𝗟𝗨𝗙𝗙 / 𝗣𝗨𝗡𝗞𝗦𝝠𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗗𝗘𝝠𝗗 ​/ 𝗡𝝝 𝗚𝝝𝗗𝗦 𝗡𝝝 𝗠𝝠𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 / 𝗜 𝗗𝝝𝗡’𝗧 𝗚𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝝠 𝗣𝗛𝗨𝗖𝗞 / 𝗘𝗡𝗘𝗥𝗚𝗬𝗦𝗨𝗖𝗞𝗘𝗥𝗭 𝗡𝝝𝗧 𝗪𝗘𝗟(𝗟) 𝗖𝗨𝗠 / 𝗙𝝝𝝝𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝝠𝗥𝝝𝗨𝗡𝗗 / 𝗘𝗘𝗞 𝗣𝗘𝝝𝗣𝗟𝗘 / 𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗖𝗛 𝝝𝗥 𝗗𝗜𝗘 / 𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗖𝗛 & 𝗖𝗥𝗬 / 𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗖𝗛 𝗠𝗬 𝗟𝗜𝗙𝗘

𝖂𝖊𝖊𝖐𝖑𝖞 𝕻𝖑𝖆𝖞𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖎𝖘 𝖉𝖔𝖕𝖊 𝖆𝖘 𝖕𝖍𝖚𝖈𝖐 🎧

[vossn]

brother to be quite frank the Persona 5 Royal ending has left me in a state of disarray

[dirt-str1der]

People being all like youre harassing kiryu in the notes of my kiryu harassment post you dont know the thick of it ,, flirting and a bit of groping will be the least of his worries when hes locked in a car with me

[lizardsfromspace]

So many movies & shows got extremely missing-the-point PS2-era video games but it's always remarkable how even more didn't make it

Like there was almost a GTA clone Taxi Driver game where you, as ~badass~ veteran Travis Bickle, must go on a rampage of revenge when the Mafia assassinates Betsy

Martin Scorsese had this one cancelled personally & deprived us of another entry in the "what if The Sopranos but you do mob hits and also the flashes of dead people in a few episodes are a full-on arc where you talk to a ghost" & "what if Scarface but Scarface gets away with it" & "what if Fight Club but a fighting game?" canon

[gaillol-13]

What do you mean this isn't canon?

[thiamfresh]

Once again asking for any secret millionaire followers I have to send me some money so I can live the high life by doing things like going to the dentist and buying food 🥰

[poptartmochi]

how am I supposed to go to bed and work a full day tomorrow after that. GIRL...

[forza-lara]

I spent some quality time at Camp Nou today!

[batshit-auspol]

For those that aren't in Australia right now, we have the funniest scandal going on.

Firstly let us introduce you to the eye of the storm: Sam Kerr. Sam is a women's soccer player who has in the last year become one of the most famous and beloved athletes in Australia. Captain of the women's national team, Sam became something of a cult figure after the last Women's Soccer World Cup became a complete unpredicted sensation in Australia, with the whole country getting behind the team.

Sam, up until now, has had probably one of the most squeaky clean images in sport. Generally in Australia it is not uncommon for our sports stars to be caught up in scandals involving drugs:

violence:

drinking their own urine:

or if you're cricket legend Shane Warne, probably all three at once.

Contrasting all this, Sam's image as the squeaky clean saviour for sport made it all the more shocking this last week, when it was announced that Kerr was to face trial after having been charged by the UK police of a "racially aggravated offence" involving a taxi driver.

This was shocking news. Nobody knew what to make of it. Sam was a model for young girls everywhere and a national treasure. "This is why we can't have nice things" screamed the nation. It seemed like all hope was lost.

That is, until, yesterday, when the UK police finally revealed the full details of the case, in which Sam Kerr, sporting legend, was arrested for vomiting in a cab, and then telling an intervening police officer that he was a “stupid white bastard”.

Now we probably don't need to point out that in Australia, vomiting in a taxi and then calling a cop a bastard is about as close to a national culture as we have.

You could not have come up with a better headline to make someone a national hero.

Needless to say, Sam in now being hailed down under as the greatest legend that ever lived, and a petition has already been started to have her picture added to the $5 note.

The tide has swung so far that not one, but TWO, state Premiers have spoken out in support of Kerr, and the Prime Minister has even gone on the record describing her as "a delight".

And so ends the racial abuse saga of our greatest sports hero of all time, and the very first reverse milkshake duck to ever exist.

[eclecticmickyalberta]

It Really Happened: Round Trip to Wuxi

May 9, 2009

无锡往返

​Wúxī wǎngfǎn

Pay attention on the train from Shanghai to Wuxi.

I said it through clenched teeth in the Changzhou train station as I moved slowly through the lineup for a taxi back to Wuxi, where my Chinese friends waited.

I’d had a good time on the train, studying Chinese. I got so wrapped up in practicing tones that I didn’t hear the announcement for my stop. I didn’t even catch on when my cell phone rang; Tsu wondering where I was.

In stumbling mandarin, I assured her I’d be there soon and call her. Then my young Chinese seatmate asked, “So you’re going to Changzhou?”

     “Oh no, I’m going to Wuxi.”

     “But,” she said, “we’ve just passed the Wuxi station.”

Woops, clang, bell, help, alarm, wow! What now? You don’t tap the train on the shoulder and ask it, do you mind turning around? Yet I barely had time to be flustered and there we were in Changzhou. The train guards were on intimate terms with Murphy, who now informed me,

“Aha! You didn’t get off the train where you should. You did your part; now it’s my job to make sure there are no trains going back tonight.”

     And there weren’t.

     That meant shelling out for a taxi. I’ve learned to confirm prices ahead to avoid being cheated, so I quizzed the guards, duōshǎo qián? How much money? They assured me a taxi to Wuxi would cost 100 yuan. However, that number didn’t make the driver happy.

     “No chance, you crazy, I look stupid?” would be my rough translation of his offended, rapid-fire Chinese. “One hundred and fifty yuan.”

     “Too much,” I answered. His voice pitch and volume went up. I yelled back, providing rich entertainment for the bystanders. The driver was so incensed that I realized his price was probably firm. Still, I offered one hundred and thirty and the delighted crowd burst into laughter: This was too hilarious—the foreigner trying to beat down the taxi driver. I turned to them and said, “I’m a good Chinese person, right?” You can bargain for anything in China, maybe even an emergency appendectomy. But this was clearly a no-go.

     Still, yelling in Chinese is great vocabulary practice, so I indulged in a few minutes more. When I saw the driver building to apoplexy—the Chinese are a lively race—it was time to surrender and calm him down.

     “Hao da, hao da, okay, of course, one-fifty, méi wèntí, let’s go,” and we headed into the night. I called Tsu with apologies and a stammering explanation and she promised to be waiting at the Wuxi station. Then I pulled out my notes: It was time to chat up my driver. My Chinese really is lame, but he was happy to enliven the trip by correcting my pronunciation. Then I played my trump card: I used to drive a taxi in Canada, you know.

   This made us soul mates.

   I searched out the words to compliment him on his driving, and we were two happy people in a perfect world. It couldn’t get any better, but it did: A Wuxi taxi passed us taking his passenger to Changzhou. The two drivers honked, hit the brakes, shouted in unison, and jumped out to confer. Their idea was to change passengers to save each other the return deadhead trip. My driver tried to explain I was to pay the 150 yuan to the other driver.

   The foreigner didn’t get it.

   Patiently, my driver showed me the license plate on the other car: ni ken, ni ken, Wuxi taxi, you see. We change, change! When I caught onto the plan, he was so happy that we high fived and did a little polka in the road. Then I lamented, but I really wanted to ride with you—you’re my Chinese teacher. This made his night: We’d be buddies forever.

     We shook hands and exchanged effusive farewells and best wishes, and I hopped in with driver number two. Here was another bonus: I got to practise telling my story again as we careened wildly through the night, sideswiping trucks and other headlights coming at us out of the darkness.

     Back in Wuxi, I gave the driver my cell phone to call and find Tsu. They chatted briefly in Chinese.

     “Mai Dao Leng,” my driver said, “Mai Dao Leng.”

     I didn’t get this. Was he talking about the bill?

     “Mai dan?” Pay bill?

     No.

     “Mai Dao Leng, Mai Dao Leng.”

     “Dui!” chimed another driver from his taxi nearby. “Mai Dao Leng.”

     Now all the drivers were pointing across the station and repeating the magic phrase. “Mai Dao Leng.”

     This was too much. I howled to the heavens,

     “Does everybody in Wuxi know I’ve been to Changzhou and back tonight?”

     Then the light went on. It wasn’t anything about my crazy round trip—every taxi driver, every Chinese person knows “Mai Dao Leng,” McDonald’s. I trotted along to the burger chain restaurant and found my friends. Tsu was sweet and understanding, Peter in hysterics. Peter’s English is limited but laughter is universal, and all weekend long he chortled his new theme song, “Shanghai, Wuxi, Changzhou, Wuxi.” With more riotous laughter.

     I really should pay attention on the train from Shanghai to Wuxi.

     But in China, getting lost can be more fun.

xièxiè    

​

[rynwritesreid]

I like the way you kiss me| Spencer Reid

A/N: So, I haven’t written smut in a good while, but I hope this okay. It’s defo romantic, but I promise soon there will be some good angst.

Summary: Spencer is nervous about being in a relationship with you, because of what his friends would think and the age gap you two had. But when it comes down to it, all that matters to him, is you.

Content: Smut 18+. Fluff. Fem!reader. Use of nicknames (just princess). oral(R!receiving). PinV.

Masterlist| request are open| navigation

Spencer Reid knew dating you was playing with fire. You were younger, and you had never been in a serious relationship. Spencer knew if his friends found out about the two of you, he would never hear the end of it. But when he was with you, he didn’t care, all he could think about was you. 

He couldn't resist the way your eyes lit up when you talked about anything you loved, or how your pupils dilated when you were looking at him, or how you laughed when he told any joke.  He was infatuated with you, although he knew he should never have got attached to you.

But despite the risks, Spencer couldn't deny the pull he felt towards you. As he watched you across the table, he couldn't help but smile at the way you crinkled your nose when you were deep in thought. Your passion for life was infectious, and he found himself getting lost in the sparkle of your eyes.

Maybe he loved you, or maybe he loved the idea of you, but he didn’t care. He enjoyed been around someone who saw life as colourful and bright, rather than how he saw it and how the majority of everyone he knew saw it. 

But if Spencer was to ever admit what he truly liked about you, he enjoyed the way you kissed him. How every kiss you gave him was memorable. He could tell with every kiss you missed him when he wasn’t around, you cared about him and that he was the last person you thought about as you drifted asleep.

As the night grew late and the restaurant began to empty, Spencer realised he couldn't keep pretending that what they had was just a casual fling. He needed to admit to himself that he was falling for you, hard and fast. The way your hand felt in his, the sound of your laughter filling his ears, it was all too much to ignore.

"I can't keep pretending that you don't mean everything to me," Spencer whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “You make life worth living. Whenever I see your name flash across my screen, or every time I remember your face, I want to kiss you.”

“Spencer Reid as romantic, who could have imagined.” You chuckled, you felt the same way, but you could never put it into such words. “I feel the same way. I want to be yours.” 

“You’ll always be mine. You are perfect for me, and I am, well perfect for you.” Spencer pressed a soft kiss to your lips, feeling the weight of his confession lifting off his shoulders. In that moment, surrounded by the fading chatter of the restaurant and the gentle glow of the streetlights outside, Spencer knew that he had found something rare and precious with you. As your fingers intertwined with his, he couldn't help but smile, a genuine, unguarded expression of happiness spreading across his face.

*

Spencer flagged down a taxi, he couldn’t wait to get you home. The taxi pulled up to the curb, and Spencer held the door open for you, a small smile playing on his lips. The city lights glimmered in your eyes as you settled into the backseat, his hand finding yours instinctively. The ride home was filled with comfortable silence, the air crackling with unspoken words and promises.

Once the taxi had arrived outside his apartment, he leaped out and open the door for you. “A real gentleman you’ve got there.” The taxi driver smiled, giving you a knowing look as you stepped out onto the sidewalk. Spencer chuckled softly, a hint of colour rising to his cheeks at the driver's comment. Escorting you up to his apartment, he couldn't shake the feeling of contentment that settled over him like a warm blanket.

Once you were in the comfort of his apartment, he grabbed your face and pulled it closer to his. He gazed into your eyes, seeing a reflection of his own desires and emotions staring back at him. Without uttering a single word, he closed the distance between your lips, kissing you with a fervour that spoke volumes about the depth of his feelings for you. In that moment, nothing else in the world mattered to Spencer except for the connection he shared with you.

As the kiss deepened, a wave of passion and longing swept over the both of you, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and desire. Spencer's hands moved gently to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek tenderly as if to reassure himself that you were real and not just a figment of his imagination.

Maybe it was out of instinct, but Spencer moved his hands down the back of your dress and felt the smooth fabric beneath his fingertips. His fingers found the top of the zipper and he slowly started pulling down, while his mouth found its way to your neck.

Your breath caught in your throat as his lips brushed against your skin, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake. “You are beyond beautiful.” Spencer gently whispered against your skin; his breath warm against your neck.

Spencer's fingers traced a delicate path along your spine as he slowly lowered the zipper of your dress, his touch felt like feathers dancing along your skin. Every nerve in your body felt alive and electrified under his gentle caress, and you couldn't suppress the soft gasp that escaped your lips.

His lips found yours once more, the kiss deep and hungry, filled with a raw intensity that threatened to consume you both. Lost in the heady rush of desire, you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as if trying to fuse your very souls together.

Spencer was never the kind of man to hurry into get you naked, he liked taking it slowly, savouring every moment and committing it to memory. His hands moved with purpose, but also with a tenderness that spoke volumes about the depth of his feelings for you. As the dress slipped off your shoulders and pooled at your feet, Spencer's eyes roamed over your exposed skin, drinking in every curve and contour as if committing them to memory.

“I don’t how I ever got so lucky.” His voice was barely above a whisper, his eyes filled with a mixture of adoration and desire. Spencer guided you towards the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. In the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains, tonight felt more romantic, more intimate.

Spencer gently laid you on his bed, his gaze never wavering from yours. The room was imbued with a sense of intimacy and affection, as if every object bore witness to the love shared between you and Spencer. His fingers traced delicate patterns across your skin.

Though Spencer was still fully clothed, you didn’t feel vulnerable, you felt loved and adored. You felt as if Spencer was your biggest fan. But Spencer, been the gentleman he is, wasn’t going to allow you to be the only one naked. He unbuttoned his shirt slowly, revealing the expanse of his chest as he shed the fabric, every movement deliberate and filled with a silent promise.

As his shirt fell to the floor, Spencer lowered himself onto the bed beside you, his body radiating heat and a quiet intensity. His mouth left a trail of kissed down your body, igniting a trail of fire along your skin as he worshipped every inch of you with his lips and tongue. Each touch was a testament to his adoration, a silent vow of devotion that echoed through the room.

His lips started moving down your body, his lips finding your nipples and gently sucking them, his tongue flicking over them. But they weren’t the centre of his focus, because if Spencer was one thing, he was giving. He loved hearing you moan for him, how you complete surrendered yourself to him. He enjoyed knowing he had ruined anyone else for you, because he knew you the best, he knew what made you squirm. He wasn’t usually the type of man who wanted to ‘own’ something, but you were different. He had always wanted you for himself, even if at the start he was nervous.

His hands moved lower, caressing your hips, your thighs, his fingers dipping into you, the warmth of your body accepting him wholeheartedly. He felt you tremble under his touch, your body responding to his every move, and he felt a surge of power and desire within him.

Your breathing quickened, every gasp and moan a testament to the pleasure that was building within you. Spencer's eyes met yours, the fire in your eyes mirrored in his own. He knew then that this was more than just a physical connection, it was a soul-deep bond that took his breath away.

He paused, the tip of his finger hovering over your sensitive spot, teasing you. You knew what you wanted, and you could tell that Spencer knew it too. He smiled, a warm and genuine smile that made your heart flutter.

"Please," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Please, what princess?” Spencer teasingly asked, stroking your inner thigh with his fingers.

You swallowed hard; your desperation clear in your eyes.

“Use your words.” He insisted, his gaze never leaving yours.

“I need you,” you whispered hoarsely, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

His lips were soon on your clit, his tongue plunging inside you, tasting you, exploring you. Your body arched beneath him, a silent plea for him to keep going, to never stop. And he obliged, his tongue darting in and out of you, his fingers working in perfect rhythm, driving you higher and higher until you finally shattered apart underneath him. You came with a cry, your body convulsing beneath his, and he felt the wave of your release wash over him, taking him to a place of pure ecstasy.

As your body relaxed, he pulled away, his eyes never leaving yours, his face a picture of pure satisfaction. He moved up beside you, his hands steadily exploring your body, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck.

But Spencer was far from done. He knew exactly what you needed; he could read your body like an open book.

Spencer slowly slid inside you, feeling the walls of your body cling to him like a force of nature. He moved slowly at first, savouring every moment of the connection that flowed between them. Your body arched towards him, eager to feel him deep inside, seeking the completion of a desire that had been building for so long.

As he thrust deeper, Spencer's eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of the moment making your heart race and your breath quicken. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, your body craving the warmth and connection.

He picked up the pace, each stroke more fervent than the last, the sounds of your breath and his groans filling the room. The air was thick with desire and the scent of your arousal, heightening the passion between you.

Your hips met his with each thrust, matching his rhythm and pulling him deeper into you. Every movement felt more intense, every touch more electric. In that moment, you and Spencer became one, moving as one, feeling as one.

Your fingers dug into his back, pulling him closer, every sensation heightening, every touch becoming more intense. Spencer's breathing was ragged, mirroring yours. The room was alive with the sound of your bodies moving in a primal dance, lost in each other's eyes.

Your breathing became higher pitched, signalling your orgasm was coming. You arched your back, your head falling back as you screamed his name. Spencer felt the walls of your pussy clenching tighter around him, and he knew that he was going to cum too.

He thrust harder, feeling the heat of your body engulfing him, taking him over the edge. His orgasm was explosive, shooting wave after wave of pleasure through his body. He held you close, his lips pressed against your neck, his breath still ragged with desire.

Spencer collapsed beside you, his chest heaving, his face flushed with exertion and desire. You lay there, breathing heavily, your bodies still connected. Spencer gently stroked your hair, his expression filled with love and affection. "You are my everything," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. “And I can’t wait to tell the world about you.”

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