small bike

10

And I did not want words, small talk, big talk, bike talk, book talk, any of it. Just the sun, the grass, the occasional sea breeze, and the smell of his body fresh from his chest, from his neck and his armpits. Just take me and molt me and turn me inside out, till, like a character in Ovid, I become one with your lust, that’s what I wanted. Give me a blindfold, hold my hand, and don’t ask me to think—will you do that for me?

The FINAL one. Y'know, from that drive I did back in… what, March? Jesus, Anj, get your shit together. :U

I was kind of waiting for the right mood to come along for this one because I knew my brain was going to fight me for trying to draw a vehicle. But damn if this man doesn’t look good on a bike…. BIG thank you to @a-daks, who this was for but also for providing A+ references and being my bike person because I know shit about motorcycles. ;P

I squelched my doubts with a yet more violent kiss. I did not want passion, I did not want pleasure. Perhaps I didn’t even want proof. And I did not want words, small talk, big talk, bike talk, book talk, any of it. Just the sun, the grass, the occasional sea breeze, and the smell of his body fresh from his chest, from his neck and his armpits. Just take me and molt me and turn me inside out, till, like a character in Ovid, I become one with your lust, that’s what I wanted. Give me a blindfold, hold my hand, and don’t ask me to think—will you do that for me?

“Call Me by Your Name”, André Aciman (page 81)

walking to school starters

as requested by anon. Feel free to make any changes !

  • “Ooh, the weather is nice today.”
  • “Is that toast in your mouth?”
  • “I’m too tired…can’t you carry me?”
  • “It’s too hot/cold for this.”
  • “I’ll race you to the stop sign.”
  • “Are you ready for the test?”
  • “I’ll quiz you while we walk.”
  • “[tries to trip __]”
  • “Let me copy your homework. I’ll be really fast.” / “Your handwriting while walking is the same as when you’re sitting down.”
  • “Hold my hand.”
  • “My bag is so heavy…” 
  • “I’m starving.”
  • “I have some food in my bag.” / “You’re always hungry. That’s why I carry snacks everywhere.”
  • “You take this route to school too?”
  • “I can’t believe I have to see you this early in the morning.”
  • “Here, take an earbud. I want to show you a song.”
  • “I can’t wait until I have a car.”
  • “Don’t cross the street yet, idiot!”
  • “[whistling as they walk]”
  • “Maybe we should bike instead?”
  • “Back in my day, we had to walk ten miles uphill in the snow while Mercury was in retrograde/gatorade.”

crankstahensch  asked:

I'm a 5ft tall female that just dropped her first motorcycle and broke the mirror but nothing else thanks to sliders. I'm feeling really disappointed in myself and sad. I've been working towards this for a year and it's clearly not enough. What if I do that on an intersection? I could use some advice from an experienced rider on how to move forward.

Is it a big bike? I dropped my first 250 pretty early on driving it just being skittish and nervous about riding, missing a turn, and trying to loop around and make it back to the intersection I wanted to be at clumsily because I was worked up about being sure I was invisible to cars and being on a street I didn’t know well and missing the turn I wanted, but I feel like that one wasn’t hard to bounce back from because it was practically a little toy bike I could just lift back up and get back on without any trouble. At least for me the small bike helped me build up my confidence learning how to handle one and how to interact with cars.

The other thing that helped a lot was sticking to roads I knew really well that didn’t have overwhelming traffic. I used to work in downtown Hollywood and didn’t regularly ride because traffic was so intimidating and the roads were in horrible shape. Then I got a job in Burbank and started riding every day because it was a safe road I knew intimately and traffic wasn’t especially intimidating. Years later when I was way more confident being on bikes I went back to Hollywood for something and figured “hey, now that I’m not afraid of every car on the road this’ll be easy”. BUT IT STILL SUCKED because Hollywood roads and Hollywood drivers just fucking suck and I was like “okay, man, now I understand why I was so afraid to ride to work when I was out here”

The biggest thing it just learning how to centre yourself and not get worked up if you fuck up at something, because it’s really easy to panic if you feel like you did something wrong, but once you panic it’s exponentially easier to fuck up again and get frantic and just totally lose control and hurt yourself. Same goes for getting mad at shitty drivers, if you’re fuming about an idiot who just almost killed you you’re driving distracted and you might not catch the next idiot about to kill you in time. When I was doing the MSF course I was having a lot of trouble figuring out how to work first gear on the bike, then getting worked up about it because nothing makes me more anxious than publicly fucking up at something, THEN fucking up worse and worse at every subsequent lesson because I was in such a worked up panic about the first. When I calmed myself down and was like “okay you have permission to fuck up, just settle down, take it slow, don’t get anxious about it” THEN everything clicked and I could finally ride the bike properly.

And that helps me to this day, if I’m in a situation I haven’t experienced before and I’m not sure what I’m doing I’ll get that stab of panic in my belly and my brain starts to kick into GET AWAY ASAP mode, but I have to tell myself to manual override that gut reaction and calmly work through it. Like, for example, coming back from Wasteland today I had to drive over five miles of loose sand to get to the freeway, an 800lb cruiser is ABSOLUTELY not made for that. I would fishtail and have to wrestle the bike any time I accelerated while not holding the front wheel perfectly straight and the gut reaction was GO FASTER! PULL OUT OF THE FISHTALE! ESCAPE THIS SAND PIT! but logically I know that would make me fall over immediately so I just forced myself to calm down whenever that feeling hit, brace the bike, and go slower until I was straight again. For a while I had a car riding very impatiently on my tail and it was making me feel very frantic because I’m like “oh no, this guy is pissed, I’m too slow, I’m fishtailing and I’m gonna fall over if I try to go faster but this guy is so pissed waiting for me-” and honestly I just pulled over and stopped, let him pass me, steeled myself again and pressed on. Because panicking was just gonna make it all worse.

I do know what it’s like to feel anxious after an accident, like, I’m extremely nervous about being too close to other vehicles to stop in time if they need to panic break, and I get really antsy that any person I pass in another lane could potentially jerk into my lane without signalling or looking and hit me, but the only thing that helps me get past it is getting back on the bike, trying to be more safe about everything, and just driving until I can remind myself I don’t have to be spooked by everything on the road.

Don’t push me into traffic.

I’m currently passing my motorbike licence, so that means that in my country I can ride a small motorbike as long as I have an L plate and I don’t go on motorways. I haven’t been riding very long, so while I’m definitely not perfect I am INCREDIBLY careful when riding around.

A few days ago, I’m on my way to college when the light up ahead of me turns orange. I do my safety checks and begin to slow down - bare in mind that at this stage I’m easily a good 30 meters away from the light, so it’s not like I’m suddenly slamming down the breaks.

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After All These Years (M) - Christian Yu

Originally posted by etae-96

Pairing: Christian Yu x Reader
Word Count:  1956
Genre: Fluff, Smut

Author’s Note: Happy Birthday to @rudeboywonho , the wonderful amazing trash hoe that I get to share several biases/wreckers with. I love you, babe. Hope you enjoyed your birthday and continue to enjoy what this week brings you <3


The soft touch of his hand encompasses yours as you walk together. You look up, your eyes meeting his deep brown ones, and he smiles. It’s enough to send your heart soaring - to awaken the butterflies that took residence in your stomach the first time he spoke to you so many years ago.

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Learning to Ride

A while back @audreycritter and I were talking about Jason and bike riding which bloomed the idea for this story. Thanks so much Audrey for all your help getting me through this. : ) 

Words: 5,200

Rating: Gen

Summary:  Bruce was going to teach Jason how to ride a bike, but he’d died before they’d gotten to try. When Jason finds his bike in the attic Bruce decides it’s maybe time to try again.

Warnings: None

AO3 Link

~

Jason couldn’t remember why he’d gone up to the attic. There’d been a reason, he was sure, but whatever it had been was lost on him the moment he laid eyes on the bike. Unlike most everything else in the dimly lit space it was pristine. Not a speck of dust or dirt rested on it. The paint was as fresh and red as the day Jason had picked it out at the store. The tires were full and the chain looked brand new.

He reached out and touched his hand to the rubber grips on the handles, brushing his fingers over the rough edges of one of the bike’s only imperfections. The rubber was scuffed just so on the handle from where it had hit the concrete. If he reached down, he’d find a matching scruff on the hard plastic of the pedal. He’d been supposed to go out with Bruce to ride it. Instead he’d been late, caught up at a meeting. What it was for Jason couldn’t remember, he hadn’t cared enough at the time, only that it had ruined a promise. He’d wanted to show Bruce, show him what he’d missed out on, by learning himself.

He’d found out quickly that the bike was a bit too big for him, just like Bruce had warned him, and the weight of it had been too much. Too much to attempt riding, especially when he didn’t know how. Except he’d been so angry. So, he’d acted out, wanting to stir an emotion from Bruce, even if it wasn’t the one he actually needed. All he’d gotten for it was a scraped knee and a scuffed bike.

He had the distinct memory of shoving the bike against the brick of the shed he was supposed to keep it in and stomping inside. He’d blown past a worried Alfred and disheveled Bruce, just come back from his meeting, only half an hour late for their promised time.

He’d seethed with self loathing for the rest of the night. At falling. At scratching his new bike. At himself for not waiting for Bruce. He couldn’t get Bruce’s confused look out of his head, or his words twinged with hurt. He’d promised. He’d left early. He’d even come back. If only Jason had waited. There was still a faint scar on his knee from the accident. A little white line as a reminder of how impatience and hotheadedness could mess up something good.

“There you are, do you need some help finding the box?” Bruce’s voice, jarring in the way it was so normal, erased the lingering tones of hurt Jason had almost been able to hear moments ago.

Jason turned to look at him, Bruce had noticed the bike. A small smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “I remember when I got that for you.”

It hit him again how dusty everything else was. How the room was filled with the disused, old, and forgotten. His hand fell from the handle like it had burned him. His mind went back to the memorial, always in sight, always ready to bring fresh the memory of his death. And his room, the first time he’d walked in it had been like a tomb. Frozen in time. Not a thing moved from where he’d left it, socks draped over his chair, a book half open on the bed. There hadn’t been a speck of dust to be found there either, it had even smelled clean. Like lemon, the bright scent a burning contrast to the dreary weight of memory. A room should never smell like lemon.

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