floating bike

husband!eunki
  • surprise breakfast in bed
  • morning kisses
  • he’ll get you to do morning stretched with him
  • he’s so flexible that you can barely keep up with the stretches
  • like “eunki pls i can barely touch my toes”
  • “thats why you practice!”
  • when you come home tired from work, he’ll give u a massage
  • makes you coffee every morning
  • or tea 
  • whatever floats ur boat
  • bike rides in the park
  • takes initiative to plan trips
  • anniversaries are either spent at home with a candlelit dinner or on vacation 
  • him waiting up for you if u come home late
  • really patient
  • he knows all your usual orders in cafes and restaurants
  • “honey, i brought home your fave dish”
  • and he happens to always bring home what ur craving with u telling him <3
  • probably the type to want to adopt children
  • “bc they need parents and i think we can be great parents together”
  • “and later on if u wanna make babies, we can too”
  • he says that so nonchalantly
  • but with so much depth like idk man i cri
10

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.

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

10

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!  

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?