floating bike

I love you

When Eleven hears ‘I love you’ for the first time, it’s from Hopper. They’re arguing about her getting to see Mike after the gate has been closed. It starts out just like every other argument of theirs, with a question from Eleven.

“Why can’t I see him?”

“I’ve told you already, kid. It’s not safe! You’ll see him eventually.”

“I don’t care! I need to see him now! Why won’t you let me go?”

“Because I want you alive!”

“You won’t let me go? It’s just like before. You hate me. You hate me!”

“Why the hell do you think I’m doin’ this, kid? It’s because I love you! I can’t lose you again!”

Eleven is suddenly silent. They’ve fought a million times before but she’s never seen him cry because of it. Guilt bubbles up in her throat.

“I’m sorry.” She suddenly whispers.

He rubs a hand down his face and sits on the sofa, sighing.

“It’s alright, El. I’m sorry too. I want to help you.”

She takes a tentative seat beside him, folding her hands in her lap. After a long, heavy minute of silence, Eleven gathers the courage to ask a question.

“What does ‘I love you’ mean?” Her voice is uncertain. It breaks Hopper when he realizes she’s never heard it before. He thinks for a moment before replying.

“It’s when you care about someone a lot. More than a lot. And you wanna keep them safe and happy, forever. You’d risk your life for them. You never want to let them go.” He tries to phrase in a way she will understand.

He hears nothing for a while, so he turns to look at Eleven, only to find her with tears streaming down her face. His heart feels like it’s been kicked. She looks at him with big, teary brown eyes and says “I….love you too.”

He pulls her into his chest and wraps his arms around her. You never want to let them go.

When Eleven hears ‘I love you’ again, it’s from Will. The Hoppers and the Byers are supposed to be having dinner together, like they do every Saturday night. Something is different tonight, though. Hopper and Joyce are having dinner together, out. They are on a date, and Eleven is with Will and Jonathan. She is sitting next to Will on his bed, and fiddling with his SuperCom while he draws. They had become close along with their parents, and Eleven was fiercely protective of him. For the last five minutes Will had been rambling on about their parents.

“This is really cool, El. We get to spend lots more time together! And if they get married, we can be brother and sister! I mean, I love you like a sister already, it’ll just be official. Oh, and Jonathan can take us to the movies-”

Eleven didn’t cry this time. It was small statement in the middle of his ramblings, but she smiled. A big smile. When he finally finished talking, she hugged him. He seemed a little surprised by the gesture but hugged back nonetheless.

“I can’t wait.”

She starts hearing it more and more.

Steve says “I love you kid, but you’ve really gotta stop using your powers on my car-” One sunny afternoon at the junkyard.

Dustin says “ Did you guys see that? I love you El, that was so cool!” After she floats his bike with a jerk of her head.

Nancy says “Don’t get me wrong, I love you Eleven, but you’re all Mike talks about.” When they are sitting together in Jonathan’s car waiting for Will to get his bag.

Lucas says “Thank you El! I love you! Yes!” One day at the arcade when she uses her powers to fix a broken machine with a surge of power.

Joyce says “Ok sweetie, I love you, I’ll see you next week.” After one of their many dinners.

She understands. She doesn’t know exactly what it means but she feels it. ‘I love you’ become her three favorite words. So one night she decides to use them herself.

The air is warm and gentle on her face and the night sky makes her feel safe. Mike’s hand in hers keeps her grounded while simultaneously giving her butterflies. They are sitting on the swing on the Hopper’s porch, fireflies floating around them. Eleven’s head rests gently on Mike’s shoulder.

That’s when she says it.

“I love you, Mike.”

There’s no response for a moment, and then another. She begins to panic. Is she not supposed to say that? Does Mike not love her back? Still silence. (She doesn’t see the blush creeping across his face) Eleven takes her head off his shoulder and turns to him anxiously. “I’m sorry Mike, I didn’t-“

but she doesn’t finish, because in that moment he presses his lips gently to hers. Her heart flutters and she closes her eyes. “I love you too, El.” Mike mumbles against her lips. She feels a hand come up to her cheek and then move a curl behind her ear. Tears pool in her eyes but she doesn’t understand why. She’s so happy.

She presses one more gentle kiss to mikes lips before letting her forehead rest against his. Their mingled breath makes Mikes heart pound and in that moment they feel everything at once.

“I love you.”

anonymous asked:

On your tag in the bike cuck post, I agree that the meme is funny, but late-stage internet humor is ridiculing people until they break at this point, and it's a little concerning.

Yeah, I agree to some degree. The worst part is that whenever something like this happens and the internet has a good harmless chuckle at someone doing something silly, there’s always a tiny vicious minority that takes it too far or uses it as a jumping-off point into genuine harassment. I’ve already seen a couple of awful racist parodies floating around (because Bike Cuck -> Cuckoldry -> The unfortunate racial elements of cuckoldry. On the internet, literally anything is only 3 degrees of separation from racism).

Regardless, he’s cool with the ridicule, so happy ending for everyone:

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Pack Your Bags - We’re Going on a Roadtrip!

The BLM manages over 245+ million acres of amazing public lands and resources. Today, we’re kicking off the #mypubliclands Summer Roadtrip to visit those lands throughout the summer.

Moving east to west, we’ll spend a week in each state or group of states where the BLM manages lands, mostly in the west. Along the way, we’ll visit breathtaking wild landscapes, explore one-of-a kind resources and events, and go behind-the-scenes with employees in the field. From ghost towns to Burning Man to bat research, we’ll have something for everyone. 

You can read individual roadtrip posts here, and then track our progress all summer on http://mypubliclands.tumblr.com/roadtrip. We’ll add our “stops” to the map along the way, in real time. 

And we’re inviting you to participate through weekly Instagram challenges! Each Monday through Saturday of the summer, tag your photos with #mypubliclandsroadtrip, and we’ll post our favorites each Sunday.  Learn the rules of the road on http://mypubliclands.tumblr.com/roadtripinstagram.  

Join us tomorrow morning as we head out for a stop in Maryland and then down to the Florida coast!  

The Floating Bikeshop on Cream Street

usukisses answered your question:It was fun last time, so I’m gonna ask for your…

The floating bikeshop on Cream street

THE FLOATING BIKE-SHOP ON CREAM STREET
(Thanks for the suggestion!)

Welcome to the floating bike-shop on Cream Street, yes, you heard right, the only store that does not only sell the floating bikes but also floats like one!”

Alfred rapped off his speech like an automated robot. If Arthur hadn’t seen the guy around campus, he could’ve been fooled to believe he was one. It was only recently revealed that Mr Timor from the Information Science department was in fact manufactured by Ch3mstill. As their newest model, he possessed everything any regular teacher in his late forties had - including baldness, bad breath, and a horrible fashion sense. Green sweater with a red shirt? - come on.

As Alfred noticed Arthur was Arthur and not a customer, he bit his inner cheek and grimaced, “Aw, man, I still have commission to make.”

“Sorry,” Arthur said, but he showed no sign of being apologetic. He closed the door and looked through the glass-floor. Beneath them, about five feet down, everything was like usual; people walked the streets, shopped for clothes, and sipped iced lattes at the smart cafeterias in town. There were no other floating shops in sight, and no matter how practiced Alfred’s speech was, it was truthful - The Floating Bike Shop on Cream Street was truly amazing.

Alfred jumped across the counter and walked towards Arthur. He looked across their selection of bikes as he did so - he had just rearranged the store, and everything had been colour-coded. “What do you think?” he asked without further ado and gestured across the sea of floating bikes.

Arthur admired a pink tricycle bobbing up and down above his head. “Very impressive,” he said and watched Alfred smile, “if you’re into bikes.” Alfred’s smile faded a little.

“What did you come for, a test-drive?” Alfred joked and slipped his arm around Arthur’s shoulders, “just kidding, I know what you’re here for.”

“I highly doubt it,” Arthur said and followed Alfred towards the back room, “but humour me. Make a guess.”

“A parcel came for your dad.”

Arthur grimaced. “Again? I’ve told them to send it to his house, but the post office keeps redirecting it here.”

“They must think he still owns the store.”

“Ridiculous.” Arthur walked the hallways of the back with knowing steps and ended up in the office. He saw the parcel on the desk, and picked it up with a sigh.

“It’s heavy,” Alfred said, despite Arthur already holding it. “I guess it must be parts for his bike.”

“I doubt it,” Arthur said, but he didn’t make his own guess.

Alfred leaned up against the office desk and watched him. “So if it’s not the parcel you’re here for,” he said, “you’re right, I don’t know what brings you to the store today. Care to tell me?”

Arthur looked at Alfred from above the parcel and only slowly put it down on the floor. He glanced around, spotted the camera in the corner of the room, and waved towards it. “Is it on?”

“No, it’s just there to scare thieves,” Alfred said. He was rather curious about why Arthur would care for the camera.

Arthur looked down through the glass floor. “Can you cover it?”

Alfred shrugged and clapped his hands, making the floor go black.

Finally, Arthur took a seat on the parcel and took in a deep breath. He stared out into the air for a few minutes. Then he looked back up at Alfred. “Do you know why Dad sold the shop to your family?”

Keep reading

If I Should Have a Daughter (inspired by Sarah Kay’s “B”)

If I should have a daughter, I will not buy her Barbies because I don’t want her to grow up thinking that the only way to be pretty is by being skinny, blonde and tall. So in place of dolls, I will buy her Play Dohs and Legos and tons of papers and art materials so that early on she would realize how much potential she holds in her hands, how much one person could create with the very little that was given.

And I will teach her how to swim without floating devices, how to bike without training wheels because the only way to know how to keep your head above the water is by being in the water and the only way to find perfect balance is by first experiencing some imbalance. I want her to discover that the kind of learning that sticks is the kind of learning that emerges after being submerged in headaches or heartaches or both. It is the kind of learning that happens in between drowning and refusing to sink, in between falling down and getting up, in between committing and correcting mistakes.

So while I will shower her with books about science and poetry, I will introduce her to the joy of basking in the sunlight and dancing in the rain so she would figure out that the only way to truly know the world is by being out there in the world. In place of folklores, fables and fairytales, I will talk to her about behavior and maturity and responsibility like an adult because that is how we grow—through honesty, and honestly, should I get a chance to be a kid again, that is how I would want to be reintroduced to the world: no icing, no frosting, no sugarcoating, just the truth about the consequences of my actions.

But I also want her to know that no matter her choices, no matter her transgressions, no matter what seasons would come and go, I will always be there. Baby, I will tell her, I will hold your hand when you are a pocketful of roses. I will hold your hand when you are brittle falling leaves. I will hold your hand when you are a ray of sunshine. I will hold your hand when you are painful as ice. But baby, I can only hold your hand. I cannot walk for you. I cannot stand for you. You have to use your own two feet.

And while I will always be there—ready to offer her hugs and Band-Aids and ice creams, I will never shelter her from the cruelties of the world. Instead, I will show her how to build her own shelter. How to draw boundaries without having to put up walls. How to always keep the doors open without letting everything in. How to scare the monsters beneath her bed. How to dispose of skeletons before they could settle in closets. How to learn her own lessons. How to do her own homework. How to fight her own bullies. How to win her own battles. How to live her own life, without expectations other than her own.

– Mark Dimaisip

note: I’ve posted an earlier version of this a few months ago. This is the final version I will be performing in an open mic soon. What do you think?

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Thanks for following the #mypubliclandsroadtrip in BLM Oregon and Washington! You can view a multimedia journal of the roadtrip here: http://mypubliclands.tumblr.com/roadtriporegon.

Tomorrow, the roadtrip heads to Alaska for unique experiences - from arctic wildlife and reindeer herding to the Iditarod Trail to the “wildest” wild and scenic rivers.

I will post one more fanacc before I sleep

Lay was riding around on this floating bike thing and it landed right near i was sitting. Lay then got off so Xiumin could get on and when Xiumin did Lay took Xiumin’s hand amd held it and talked to him like a Prince seeing his Princess off haha