army driver


Idlers 12 hours of Motegi with RWB - Part 1

Last July I attended the Idlers 12 hours of Motegi with team RWB. We traveled through the night before the event from the RWB HQ in Chiba to the Twin Ring Motegi circuit in Tochigi. I took these shots at a gas station on the way. The seven noisy RWB race cars showing up in the dead of night along with an army of RWB race drivers, crew members and photographers from around the world certainly brought the sleepy service area to life.

As you can see, the cars are all road registered and were driven to the event on public roads; no flatbeds, no trucks. It was a good chance to check the cars were all running smoothly. I actually traveled with RWB regular Alex Kyo in one of Nakai-San’s 993s. It was a real thrill to be a part of that journey, travelling in convoy, in the dead of night, on a Japanese highway with so many incredible cars.

I have a huge collection of photos from this event. It was an amazing experience and definitely a highlight since I started Rapid Japan. Part 2 coming soon.

  • Me: *likes Gal Gadot*
  • tumblr: u can't Like Gal Gadot she supports the military of her home country
  • Me: *likes Gal Gadot whilst glaring at the people trying to impose their own feelings towards her onto me*
  • The Academy: *annouces 774 new members from 57 countries to be added to class of 2017*

19 years old SU-76 driver Victor Sovetov | Гв. ст. сержант Виктор Советов, 1926 г. р by Olga
Via Flickr:
Guards staff sergeant Victor Sovetov, born 1926 in Ivanovo region, driver of SU-76 since 01.1944, 312 SPG regiment. Гв. ст. сержант Советов Виктор Калистратович, 1926 г. р., Ивановская область, механик-водитель СУ-76 312 Гвардейского Самоходного Артиллерийского Краснознаменного и ордена Красной Звезды полка, в РККА с 1.44.

anonymous asked:

“Remember that one time in college when we were at that party and you asked a random stranger to pretend to be your boyfriend/girlfriend? Yeah well that was me and we’re adults now” AU

So sorry to anon that this has taken so long. RL has been a bit of a drag lately. But hopefully it was worth the wait.

“Oh my God, it’s him.” The tension in Phil’s voice caused Melinda to pause with a forkful of salad halfway to her mouth on high alert. She’d seen Phil Coulson stare down a crack head with a gun who’d come into the ER to steal drugs. Phil had simply raised an unimpressed eyebrow and asked for forms to be filled out in triplicate and a signature on his clipboard. The robber was so strung out and confused that he’d put the gun down to sign the form allowing the hospital security to apprehend him and only adding to Phil’s cold paper pushing reputation.

“Who him?”

“HIM him,” Phil gritted out through clenched teeth as he tried not to stare at the person who’d just walked up to the diner counter and sat down mere feet from their table.

Melinda subtly checked over the newcomer. She could only see him from the back as her eyes wandered from the spikey blonde hair to an amazing set of shoulders and arms shown off in a tight purple t-shirt. “Shit.”

“Yeah, shit indeed.” Phil tried to quietly flag the waitress for the check.

“That’s Him him? The guy from college? The one you sigh over as the reason you figured out you were bisexual because he randomly kissed you at a frat party to avoid a stalker?”

“Yes, and why don’t you speak up just in case he didn’t hear you? Pack up your lunch. We’re leaving,” Phil said, reaching into his wallet even though the waitress had yet to come by with the check. After all, they’d just been served minutes ago.

“What? No, in fact hell no. This is the first real food I’ve had in 48hrs. I pulled a double shift in the ER. And why wouldn’t you want to say hello? Thank him maybe? He broadened your horizons didn’t he?” Melinda smirked.

“Mel, don’t,” Phil warned.

Melinda simply smiled that evil smile she always had when told not to do something. “Hey Brenda!” she called out to the waitress currently taking the mysterious kisser’s order. “Phil needs some extra dressing for his Reuben, would you mind?”

“Sure thing, Mel,” Brenda replied, acknowledging the request that had done what Melinda had wanted, caught the kisser’s attention.

“Huh,” Melinda murmured as she got a look at the man’s face. He was good looking, very rugged. “Not what I thought was your type.”

“Shut up, Mel! So help me God, if you’ve got an ounce of sense you’ll just be quiet,” Phil hissed, his face reddening as he tried not to look at the man who now was staring at their table, his brow furrowed as he tried to place where he knew the man in the suit.

Phil knew he looked different, while college wasn’t that long ago he’d been cursed with his family genetics and a receding hairline that made him look much older. He’d developed a stuffy persona while making his way up the HR chain so that he’d be respected by the hospital staff.

“Hi,” said the man, now fully turned to their table. Revealing that his shirt had the logo of one of the local ambulance companies. “You’re from the hospital right?” He had seen their badges and Mel was still in scrubs.

Melinda nodded, her mouth full. Phil may have lost his appetite, but she hadn’t. “I’m ER and he’s HR,” she said after swallowing.

“HR? I’ve got an appointment in a bit with a Phil Coulson. Is that you? I’m Clint Barton, the new hire for SHIELD Ambulance. I’ve got to fill out my paperwork.”

Phil nodded shyly, his glasses slipping slightly. “Uh, yeah. That’s me, um. Phil.”

“Have I seen you around the hospital? You seem familiar?” Clint asked.

“Maybe,” Melinda replied for Phil. “Or maybe it’s from somewhere else. Phil’s got that kind of face.”

“Mel, enough,” Phil growled.

Melinda smiled. “Yeah, I’ve had enough. I’m just going to run back to the ER. Break time’s up,” she said grabbing half of Phil’s sandwich as she stood. “Here Clint, you can have my seat.” She’d flagged Brenda to serve Clint’s food in her spot. “Lunch was your turn right Phil? Catch you next time!” And with that she’d left.

Clint stood awkwardly, his food on the table, waiting for Phil to actually invite him to sit.

Phil stared openmouthed as Melinda walked out the door. Realizing he had no choice he nodded to Clint. “Uh, go ahead and sit, um, if you want. If you don’t I understand. Brenda can just…”

As soon as Phil said sit, Clint had. “Thanks, I’m still trying to get to know everybody at the hospital, still trying to get used to the rules and all. I was an army ambulance driver. This is my first job out of service.” Clint had started to eat his fries as he talked. Finally, he looked up and really got his first good look into Phil’s eyes.

“Oh my god. You’re HIM.”

Also posted on AO3 

anonymous asked:

Could you do some army driver specialist ones?

(I chose not to do these about the actual every day grind of the job because that’s boring. Hope these still work for you.)

“I’m one of the men that protect this country, baby,” he said, leaning on the bar as he flirted with the brunette. “Yeah, you’re welcome.”
Just then, his friend butted in. “Don’t you just drive a truck?”
“I mean, yeah, but it’s-”
“I could do that.”
“No there’s actually-”
“Vroom! There I go! Fuck you, commies!” At this point, the girl got up and walked away. “Dude, if you’re so good at driving, you should stay sober enough to drive us home. I think Charlie was going to, but she’s over in that corner drinking another girl into the table.”

There were plenty of other driver specialists, but somehow Victoria got stuck with the nickname ‘Taxi’ and, somehow, everyone knew it. Even people she’d never talked to before, even the rookies, called her ‘Taxi’.

“All you do is drive a car, don’t think you’re that big a deal.”
“Oh yeah, well I bet I make more money than you.”
“You’re topping half a grand?”
“Half a grand? Oh, that’s cute.”

“Don’t abandon your vehicle unless absolutely necessary.”
“Is there any special reason for you phrasing it like that?”
“Yeah, ‘cus if you ditch your car, somebody’s gotta go get it and if I have any say in it, you’re the one who’s gonna fetch it. Got that?”

“I honestly don’t know why they gave me this job, I’m a terrible driver.”

Bay Area Gothic

The sky is gray. It’s always gray. That is the color of the sky. Rain? What is rain? What are seasons? There is only a gray sky. There is no sun in “Sunny California”. Just the gray sky.

Seagulls are everywhere. There is no escape. They conquered the last school your daughter went to. It’s only a matter of time until her current one is taken over as well. They dive-bombed her last best friend, she might be harder to replace.

Anti-vaxxers. You warned them, but it’s too late. Too late for everyone.

You live on what used to be an orchard. It isn’t anymore, or so they tell you. The trees are still there. You can see them. No one else has ever mentioned the trees. You are the only one.

“Hella.” Everyone says it. It’s hella great, or so you’ve convinced yourself.

The apartments are always full in San Francisco. Tenants disappear, but their sacrifice is necessary. The waiting list keeps the buildings happy. You’re afraid of what would happen if they didn’t.

The fog brings in smells, rotting fish and salt. They aren’t what worry you. That’s left for the screams. You run from the fog. Most taken are never seen again. Those returned do not last long and smell of fish. You’re late for a meeting and do not want to smell of fish. So you run.

One weekend, you visit the city. It has no name. It is the city. When tourists talk of Frisco you are confused. Frisco does not exist, not anymore. The best way to annoy locals is to mention their lost city. You learned that the hard way when you moved here.

Everything north of the city is farmland. There are no people, only ghost towns and gas stations. And cows. Mostly cows.

A commercial plays on the radio for a program to give away your car. You would never give away your car, you think as you pull onto the freeway, the commercial echoing in your ears. That wouldn’t make any sense, you think as you call the number. That was a good commercial, you think as you sign away your car. You walk away from the center with an army of other ex-drivers. You don’t know what the charity does with the cars, just that it helps kids. But you do know the phone number. You can never forget it. No one can.


The Queen is a keen driver who often drives herself when not on an official engagement. 

This story, taken from former Saudi ambassador Sherard Cowper-Coles’s memoir Ever the Diplomat, about the late King Abdullah is amazing.

The scene is that Abdullah, then crown prince but in fact de facto ruler of Saudi Arabia with his brother the king having suffered a stroke, was visiting Balmoral for lunch in 1998:

“You are not supposed to repeat what the Queen says in private conversation. But the story she told me on that occasion was one that I was also to hear later from its subject - Crown Prince Abdullah of Saudi Arabia - and it is too funny not to repeat. Abdullah had been invited up to Balmoral. After lunch, the Queen asked her royal guest whether he would like a tour of the estate. Prompted by his Foreign Minister, the urbane Prince Saud, an initially hesitant Abdullah agreed. The royal Land Rovers were drawn up in front of the castle. As instructed, the Crown Prince climbed into the front seat of the foward Land Rover, with his interpreter in the seat behind. To his surprise, the Queen climbed into the driving seat, turned the ignition and drove off. Women are not allowed to drive in Saudi Arabia, and Abdullah was not used to being driven by a woman, let alone a queen. His nervousness only increased as the Queen, an Army driver in wartime, accelerated the Land Rover along the narrow Scottish estate roads, talking all the time. Through his interpreter, the Crown Prince implored the Queen to slow down and concentrate on the road ahead.”

ramainen-elvie  asked:

NozoNico army AU.

The earth explodes and the world is on fire, and Nico barely has time to register anti-tank missiles before Umi is screaming at her to fire! fire! and her body is swept to the side when Rin forces the tank into the steepest turn she’s ever experienced.

“Clear!” Nozomi’s voice is hoarse from smoke but clear in Nico’s ears.

“On the way!” Nico pulls the trigger, and the tank roars. In the distance, a flash of light, and then flames and blazing bodies. 

Keep reading