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lizcameron · 8 months

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Part of His World | Part One

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summary: Y/n was just trying to get out of town, running from her family and her past. When her dirt bike breaks down in Kildare, JJ Maybank swoops in to help her. Forced to stick around for a while, Y/n begins to fall in love with JJ and his tight-knit family of outcasts. The longer she stays, the harder it becomes to leave OBX as she knows she must.

Word Count: 1154

Warning(s): just some insinuation of family issues, maybe violence

‘“Shit,” you muttered as you hit the brakes of the dirt bike and rolled to a stop.

You got off to inspect, lowering the kickstand. As you poked around the guts of the bike, you wished you had taken your bicycle instead. Seeing no smoke or leaking fluids, you were at a loss. Rising to stand with your hands on your hips, you wondered why you ever thought you would get very far. You inhaled a deep, steadying breath as you fought back the tears that threatened to spill.

“Shit, shit, shit!” you shouted as you kicked the rear tire of the dirt bike. Just as you reared your leg back for another swing, an old pickup truck rolled up and stopped on the opposite side of the road.

“Great, a dirty old perv coming to the rescue,” you mumbled as you steeled yourself, ready to tell the guy to shove off. Just as you raised your hand to wave him off, a young, blonde boy probably around 20 or 21 hopped out of the truck with his own hands up. You quickly dropped your arm to your side, fiddling with the hem of your shorts nervously.

“Woah, woah, woah,” the blonde called, holding up both hands as if to come in peace. “That’s a sick vintage you’re abusing. Ya’ need some help?”

“Um yeah, actually. It died a block back,” you said, scratching the back of your head in embarrassment.

The boy strode over, squatting down to examine the bike. Without a word, he began poking at it. You stood awkwardly, allowing the stranger to take a look. After a few silent moments, he spoke up. “You’ve got a hole in your crankcase - no oil in it. What year is this?”

“Dunno,” you replied. “It’s my brother’s.”

“Your brother let you take his bike out like this?” the boy scoffed.

“Was my brother’s,” you correct yourself. “He doesn’t have much use for it these days.”

The boy looks at the bike incredulously. “What a shame. I’d kill to ride this thing. Even in this condition, it’s sexier than my bike could ever be.”

You blushed a little. You had noticed the stranger’s good looks as soon as he exited his truck despite being confronted on the roadside. You laughed half-heartedly, not knowing what to say in response.

“I might have something back at the house to patch up that leak. You’ll need some new parts if you plan on taking this gal anywhere, though,” the boy offered.

You took a guarded step back. As much as you really needed to get out of town and help to do so, you weren’t so naive.

“No offense, but I don’t know you,” you stated, perhaps a bit too harshly.

The boy extended a hand, blurting out, “JJ.” When you didn’t take his hand, he added, “Maybank. JJ Maybank, friendly neighborhood dirt bike mechanic,” he said with a prize winning grin.

You shook his hand reluctantly. He seemed innocent enough. After a beat, JJ asked, “Now that we’re acquainted, y’ wanna help me lift this thing into the truck?”

You shrugged mentally, figuring you weren’t getting out of this predicament on your own. You toed the kickstand up and began wheeling the bike toward the truck, muttering, “Thanks.”

JJ jogged over to the truck to lower the tailgate, and the two of you lifted the bike into the bed. The bulge of his arm muscles did not go unnoticed by you.

About a mile down the road, JJ broke the silence in the truck. “You never told me your name, ya’ know.”

“Uh, Y/N,” you stated.

“Well, Y/N, why haven’t I seen you around here before?”

After a pause, you lied, “Uh, homeschooled. I don’t get out much.” You didn’t want to mention the fact that you were just passing through on your way to the mainland.

The rest of the ride to JJ’s house was quiet. He didn’t prod, picking up on how guarded you were. The trip was less than 10 minutes, all of which you stared out the window in contemplation of your next steps. You hadn’t given much thought to what you would do once you left. As soon as your dad’s truck turned off of your street that morning, you’d dragged your brother’s dirt bike out of the shed and taken the little bit of cash you knew he kept stashed in the mantle lockbox. Fifty miles later and you were broken down on the roadside.

A small, white house came into view as the truck slowed. JJ hopped out of the truck and you followed to help him get the bike down. You sat on a stool quietly as JJ cleaned and patched the damaged part. You watched as he seemed completely engrossed in his work, his bottom lip caught between his teeth in concentration. He glanced up at you, smiling when he noticed your stare.

“Can you hand me that rag there?” he asked, pointing to the workbench behind you. You blinked and held it out, JJ’s greasy hand brushing yours as he reached for it. You recoiled at the spark you felt run up your arm.

JJ’s words didn’t give you much time to think about it. “It’ll take several hours for the patch to set before you can add any oil. I’ve got plans with my friends. You should join,” he proposed.

You didn’t have anywhere else to go, and this boy was nice enough. What could it hurt? “Sure, I just want to be able to hit the road before dark,” you said.

JJ grinned that prize winning grin again.

After JJ went inside to wash up, the two of you were on your way to what JJ referred to as “the chateau.” You weren’t too upset about this wrench in your plans. It was better you broke down in Kildare where someone who could help happened upon you than somewhere where you’d be stranded and vulnerable. You could use the next few hours to formulate the rest of your plan, or maybe you’d let go and try to enjoy the distraction of others near your age.

When you pulled up to what must be the chateau, JJ killed the engine and turned to you before getting out. “You don’t have to tell me the whole truth. I just want to know that you’re not in any danger… or that you’re not an ax murderer,” he said, trying to keep it somewhat light.

You gazed at his face for a moment. It was so genuine. You pushed down the pang of sadness that crept into the back of your mind. No one had shown you an ounce of kindness or concern since your brother had left eight months ago.

“I’ll be okay,” you said with a small smile.

JJ nodded, and you both got out of the truck and walked up to the chateau.

Thanks for reading my first-ever fic. I hope you liked it and follow for more!

More JJ coming soon. Maybe even a bit of Rafe.

#jj maybank #JJ maybank X reader #outer banks #jj obx #obx #jj outer banks #jj obx fic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x you #lizcameronwrites #lizcameron masterlist #lizcameron writes

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bikebound · 1 year

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Memory Maker: ‘95 Honda NX650 Dominator by @ellaspede, built for their client, Prince, who had fond memories of riding and wrenching on Honda thumpers with his old man and wanted to carry on the tradition: “I always admired the old thumper Hondas my dad had back in the mid 80s. Dad had recently passed away in 2020 and I had missed out on working on a bike with him, but I wanted to have a culture and build memories around bikes with my kids. I'd love for this to be a legacy bike for them to hold onto into the future.” Prince bought the machine as an unfinished project with intentions of finishing on his own, but as is often the case with half-begotten projects, it was more trouble than anticipated. Fortunately, @ellaspede stepped up to carry it through. Highlights include the rebuilt / refinished / shortened GSX-R750 front end, 19-inch @cognitomoto front wheel, vintage Husqvarna tank, rebuilt and strengthened subframe and seat pan, custom side covers and steel fenders at both ends, custom wiring loom and electrical box, LED lighting, and much more. Full story today on BikeBound.com! ⚡️Link in Bio⚡️ https://instagr.am/p/Cpkf56SuuUu/

#IFTTT #Instagram

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kaiyves-backup · 5 months

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These vintage Art Deco bicycles are amazing. I know they’d be heavier to carry on stairs and the like than a modern bike because they’re steel and not aluminum, but they still look so cool!

#cycling #history

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owl127 · 5 months

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You’re probably so over the prompts about 3Cs but god you have a golden story here, I can’t stop thinking about it literally every day, imagining what could happen you know ? I’m a big fan of your work but this one is addicting, can’t wait to read more about this one, I’m looking forward anything, any prompt, any CRUMB

Anya was the luckiest woman alive.

She kissed Raven’s giggles as she tossed her wonder woman mask away, finding the girl’s mouth in a fit of laughter of her own. Raven sighed contently and made more room for them in the passenger seat. The 20-year-old Malibu groaned, but held firm as she spread her legs on top of Anya. Raven was always blabbing about how soon the car would be vintage, the old grandma holding firm for two generations of Reyes. That seat had seen its fair share of college kids making out on top of it, and Anya didn’t mind adding a few miles tonight.

As the windows fogged and pants grew unnecessary, Anya was ready to invite Raven back to her apartment, but a loud noise outside made them stop.

“If anyone hit grandma, I swear to God…” Raven said as she rolled the window down, the music from the Halloween party they had abandoned filtering inside.

“Lexa, wait!”

Anya was so ready to ignore whatever commotion was going on, but Clarke’s voice broke her away from Raven’s neck.

“Griffin?” Raven asked, but Clarke ignored the girls in the car as she ran past it.

“Clarke, let that shrimp go.” Another voice joined Clarke’s, and Anya peeked out the window.

She saw Lexa’s bee antenna stomping away, and Clarke was trying to follow in her cumbersome honey jar costume, but another woman stopped her. “Come on, Clarke, stay. I’m sure she’s fine.”

Anya growled when she saw Nia, the party host and also the host of one of the greatest sticks up her ass. Everyone on the lacrosse team hated Nia. She was on the team because of nepotism alone (her aunt dated their coach) and she made everyone’s life miserable with her lack of talent and many opinions.

She threw a mean party, though.

“Let’s go back.” Nia reached for Clarke’s arm, but Clarke shook it away.

“Everything alright, Griffin?” Raven opened the door, face steeled. She was the meanest pirate Anya had ever seen, with the fake parrot dangling from her shoulder adding to the character.

“Everything good, ladies?” Anya followed Raven outside without missing a beat, crossing her arms and glaring at Nia. Both Clarke and Nia seemed surprised at the couple leaving the parked car, though while Clarke showed relief at the sight of her friend, Nia bared her teeth in annoyance.

“Woods. Great to see you,” Nia said with the delicacy of a hammer. “Your sister just stormed out of here.”

“Clarke, do you need a ride?” Raven asked Clarke, ignoring the dick measuring competition going on between the two alphas.

Clarke sniffled, a tear falling on the rumpled card box that was her honey jar, and Raven helped her friend inside the car.

“I’ll drive her home.” Raven fished her keys from Anya’s back pocket — who knows how it ended there — and kissed her cheek.

“I’ll go after Lexa with my bike,” Anya said, returning the kiss.

Give it to Lexa to cockblock her sister.

Spotting the shaking bee was easy, but convincing Lexa to go back to Anya’s apartment took some time. Lexa finally relented under the frosty rain, her bee antenna squashed under Anya’s spare helmet as they drove away.

“I’m fine,” Lexa said between trembling teeth, though she sighed in relief when she held the steaming mug Anya placed in front of her. Her red, hard fingers thawed under the warmth, and so did her rage.

Anya eyed her sister, noticing the running makeup, the red nose, the stained bee costume. It wasn't always that Lexa looked like a mess, but that night was one of those days.

“Are we going to talk about it?” Anya asked, pouring honey into her own mug.

Lexa took the tiniest tea sip.

Anya would hate this so much less if making Lexa talk about her feelings wasn’t like pulling overgrown wisdom teeth. “Why did you storm out?” Anya probed, searching for an angle. “And why is Clarke upset?”

“She’s upset?”

Bingo.

Lexa’s red eyes widened, but then she frowned.

Anya checked Raven’s texts since they parted:

Raven Babe 00:37am

Griffin is crying.

I think they fought. Ask Lexa.

We stopped to get chocolate and honey. Her costume is surprisingly effective.

“Raven is with her now,” Anya said, flipping her phone face down on the table before Lexa could peek. “So, are you still drunk or?”

“Ugh,” Lexa said intelligently, lowering her forehead to the table. “Do I sound drunk?”

“You sound miserable.” Anya sat next to her sister, touching her shoulder and squeezing it. “So what? You had an argument while a little tipsy. That’s normal, Lex. Apologize to Clarke in the morning and it will all be good.”

Lexa lifted her head from the table, her eyebrows knit. She looked like a bee who had been expelled from the hive and left to die in the wilderness if that bee was also a little drunk. “I don’t want to apologize.”

A simmering kind of emotion bubbled in Anya’s stomach, and she recognized it as anger.

“What did Griffin do?” Her tone didn’t betray the surge in protectiveness for her younger sister.

Lexa’s head hit the tabletop again with a muted thud.

“Maybe I’m just overreacting,” she mumbled to the abused wood that had never seen a single coaster.

Anya breathed through her curiosity, giving her sister time to process her thoughts. Lexa had always been slow to make her opinions heard, but alcohol made it like walking through molasses.

Anya waited, as some big sisters were known to do. The good ones, at least.

“She laughed at me,” Lexa said, her voice as small as she looked. “Nia was talking shit about the team, as usual, but then she said things about me and Clarke—” there was that knot between her eyes again “—Clarke just laughed.”

“I’m sorry,” Anya said, the frown on her forehead the same as the one on Lexa’s. “But maybe she didn’t mean it that way?”

Lexa nodded solemnly, processing the idea in her inebriated brain.

“Clarke adores you, Lexa. Did she apologize?”

Pink blossomed over Lexa’s cheeks.

“Is that when you stormed out?” Anya asked, one eyebrow up.

Lexa nodded, but shameful consolation replaced her serious posture.

“Sleep it off,” Anya said, standing up. “It will make more sense in the morning.”

Lexa took an hour showering and used all the hot water. Anya would be mad about it another time, though she will hold against her sister the whole cockblocking thing. Anya had been looking forward to fuck Raven in her wonder woman costume.

Anya let Lexa sleep on the mattress that was usually under her bed, a little wet clump of teen hormones on the floor of her bedroom. She pretended not to, but saw the text exchange between her sister and her girlfriend, and sighed with a heavy sense of completion as Lexa drifted off to sleep.

Another night of being the best big sister ever.

Lexa 2:15am

I'm not mad

Clarke, I love you.

Clarke 2:15am

I love you too.

#clexa #ask the owl #fanfiction #drabble #clexa fanfic #3c #the three cs #just some anya content for that universe #with makeup sex when they meet again of course

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misskathcake · 2 years

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COMING SOON: Should Bunny Keep Driving?

🐇🐇🐇

There’s a lot to be said about my profession as a Formula 1 driver. Many would say I’m living the bachelor dream: driving fast cars on most weekends of the year, with money and women free-flowing my way like every drop of champagne being popped on the podium. Some - like my sweet dear mother - would prefer to call me as a reckless adrenaline junkie: being strapped on a death vehicle for a living is worth no benefit; surely an occupation only lunatics will take. All other versions of such claims I have heard, but one I haven’t is the assumption that Formula 1 drivers are inept in basic navigation.

Well thank fuck no tabloid or social media post has said anything about that, or there’s no denying I would be the laughing butt of the joke for the rest of this season. I could already picture it, in bold and underlined letters: ‘Harry Styles, McLaren F1 team’s Golden boy is found lost in the streets of Italy. Can he make it back in time for the Imola Grand Prix?’

Well looking at the way the doors of my bright orange vehicle had remained stuck towards the roof, there’s no telling that I can actually make it to free practice tomorrow. All I had wanted was to have this day off from any racing obligation, to enjoy the brightness of Emilia Romania, Italy even for just this single day.

What had I told my teammate Nick Grimshaw when I turned down his idea of golfing to make plans for my own today? Oh, that I ‘wanted to get lost in the beauty of an Italian summer’ Now isn’t that bloody fucking ironic as I’m standing here under the heat of the blazing Italian summer sun, my too hightech for my own good sportscar failing me in God knows where when all I wanted was to go to this specific beach where I can sit on the smooth sand and peacefully watch the sunset.

“So much for spending billions on car upgrades,” I walked my way back into the interior of the car, trying my best to figure out what was wrong with the technological system that had caused the engine to stop at the side of this random Italian street.

I’m not one to feel regret on a daily basis, choosing to believe that everyone should be kinder to themselves and giving yourself a hard time for something that occurred in the past won’t help anything. Well in this scenario, I can’t help but feel even just a smidge of regret when James Corden, McLaren’s CEO, my friend and ultimately my boss, had first offered me to use a vintage McLaren on my solo Italian trip today. Knowing how much of a grandpa I can be with today’s rapid technological development, I feel like an absolute bloody idiot for not agreeing to that and instead chose this green energy-powered vehicle that looks more like a worthless pile of steel and metal.

Realizing that my lack of knowledge with advanced cars had not been strengthened in the gap between this morning and right now, I sighed for the nth time this afternoon and stepped-out of the car once more. Standing at the side of the street, I tilted my head to look at the immaculate crimson and yellow Italian homes, noticing in dismay that it’s backdrop of the sun will start to set in about an hour from now.

With nothing left to do but actually call for help, I tried to reason with my stubborn and prideful self that calling for the towing company does not negatively affect my competency as a racing driver. Only that it does, I know deep inside that even just a tiny bit, it does say something about my lack of initiative in furthering my knowledge in my field. But I know that situation needs to be rectified after I get myself out of this current dilemma.

“Harry, you’re no good alone.” I found myself saying to no one in particular but myself, definitely learning a thing or two about acceptance of your flaws from my older sister. So with those words of conviction physically ringing in my ears, I pulled out my phone ready to make the dreaded call of defeat.

Except she arrived just in time to halt my actions.

She, being a blonde girl about my age, riding a bike while singing along to some pop song I heard my friend Niall singing in the shower that one time we flew over together for the Monaco Grand Prix. But it’s not that particular song that had ceased my movements, it’s her bright yellow bag slung to her shoulder, the color a perfect match to the colorful bikini top she was wearing under some denim dungarees. And under the rays of the Italian sun, she just looked so golden.

I don’t know how long I had stood there like a fool just staring at her glowing presence, but I was brought back to my wits when the music stopped playing. In a blink, I noticed that the girl had halted her bike just in-front of my broken down car, frowning in my direction.

“Hey, are you okay?” She called out, even her voice sounding so bright in my ears I’m starting to wonder if this woman is sunshine personified.

“I’m good.” was my reply like the aforementioned damn fool that I was that not only didn’t know how to operate the newest models of sports cars, but apparently I also can’t find my words when talking to gorgeous and kind strangers.

She didn’t seem to believe my words, head tilted in curiosity, she side-stepped from the seat of her bike and walked to stand in front of me at the side of the street. With about two feet separating us, she placed both of her hands on her waist.

“I’m pretty sure we’re both British considering your accent,” she offered me a kind smile, “and back from where I’m from in England, people standing on the side of the barest of streets with an open car a few feet away from them usually doesn’t mean the person is doing well. But that’s just me,” she shrugged, “I don’t know how things are from your part of England.”

Call me entitled or jaded, but it’s been a long time that someone had been at ease or even just possessed the confidence to tease me. So long in fact that I let out a snort from her words, followed directly after by a bubble of laughter that has got me bent in half with my hands placed on my knees for support. All the while, this funny lady continued to stand just a few feet away from me like my absolute out-of-the-blue guffawing hadn’t altered her that I was nuts.

“You’re definitely not okay then,” confirming my belief, she chuckles along in my sudden fit of insanity.

“I’m sorry, so sorry,” I straightened up remembering my manners. “It’s just been a long time since I heard something that funny at my expense and said directly to my face. And, it’s just been a long day.” My eyes travel unwillingly to my hopeless vehicle, a sigh leaving my smiling lips upon also remembering the task I was supposed to do.

I noticed her own eyes following the trail of my own, her whistle of appreciation to what she saw is not lost in my ears. “You’re definitely having a long day if you got this baby to cruise around Italy with.”

Sounds to me like she's a car enthusiast. And why that interests me, I don’t know. “Not long enough I believe since the baby stopped here and barely even crawled.”

My humor somehow landed on her, the sides of her lips curving when she looked back at me. “You’re quite funny,” the sincerity in her tone made me return her smile. “And I’m not just saying that because you just laughed like you were losing it a few seconds back. But what I find way more hilarious is how a McLaren racing driver like yourself, gets stuck in the middle of nowhere-Imola like you don’t know how to operate the newest release of your company’s top of the line sportscar line.”

So she knew who I was…of course she knew who I was if I decided to parade around Imola in the bright orange monstrosity of a car while wearing my infamous bright colored outfits complete with glitter details of an embroidered strawberry on the breast of my Gucci tee. It’s not the first nor last time people recognized me randomly on international streets, but it surely is a novel occurrence for me to feel bashful under her knowing gaze.

I shrugged my shoulders, feeling my ears pinken at realizing she knew who I was under this current unfavorable circumstance. “I wish I could say my mechanical skills in fixing cars came as natural as my humor does; but I am afraid I’m just a useless F1 racing driver who only operates on adrenaline.”

The woman curved a brow in amusement, “And you don’t have that right now because your car stopped working?”

“Exactly!” I pointed at her like I can’t believe she understood my words, “The car isn’t moving so I don’t have adrenaline to properly function like a human being. I’m basically a damsel in distress right now just waiting for my pit crew to come rescue me.”

And as if a shining personality isn’t enough to blind me, the girl surprises me when she suggests the unthinkable: “Then let’s fix it! What’s exactly broken so we know what to target?” and then she began to point-out different parts of the car that only true car enthusiasts take time to know about. Well I guess that answers my earlier question if she was into cars, but that doesn’t really help anything when she lost me at her first suggestion.

She probably noticed I remained standing there looking at her like she was speaking a different language, because she stopped in the middle of her sentence and gave me her own bashful look this time. “I’m sorry, I probably creeped you out just rambling like that without introducing myself. I’m Sophia, by the way.”

Mesmerized by her character, I met her outstretched palm and returned her fairly firm shake. “I’m Harry, nice to meet you, Sophia.”

“You too,” she nodded, “it’s great to meet you too, I mean. I know we don’t really know each other but I was serious about helping you fix your car.”

And I don’t know what it is in my gut that told me she really meant her word, but the women in my life had always told me to trust my intuition, and my intuition is telling me to accept Sophia’s unbridled kindness. “And I was also being truthful that I don’t know my way around these high-tech cars unlike I do with vintage ones. So, I can’t really answer your list of questions earlier, but feel free to check the car out yourself.”

I watched as Sophia just stood there mimicking my static stance from earlier, my words seeming not to register in her mind like I thought it would. “Are you serious?” she asked, her blue orbs widening when I nodded my head with conviction.

“This baby is all yours.” I motioned with my hands for her to enter the car, my grin of fondness making its reappearance when Sophia let out a squeal of uncontained excitement as she entered the vehicle. I followed right after her when she called for my name. Based solely on my intuition and her earlier encyclopedia worthy car knowledge, I was fully content to give her full reins to analyze the problem. But when she turned to look at me from her position at the driver’s seat, still asking for my help, I nodded without a second thought.

In my defense, she said the word ‘please’, a pout I’ve come to alarmingly realize I couldn’t resist painted on her lips. That two on Sophia is a lethal combo; I just knew straight ahead that if she used that more frequently around me, I was done for and she can basically get anything she wants from me.

Something tells me Sophia isn’t that type of person to take advantage of others though. Not in the way she patiently asked me questions about the car, questions that were genuinely similar to those my mechanics have asked me during race debriefs. And call me a narcissist all you want but this occupation of mine with all its glitz and glamorous perks, also comes with undeniable faults that a regular person with a nine-to-five job won’t probably bear to understand.

Not once did Sophia deter our conversation with anything else than strictly being the possible ailments of my car. If it was anyone else in her position with less than good intentions that she clearly exhibits, I’d for sure be feeling extremely uncomfortable right now. It’s very rare for strangers to not have any ulterior motives when it comes to interacting with me, and my usually guarded heart feels a sense of relief that Sophia seems to be one of the very few that I can learn to trust. But hey, I am a Formula 1 driver who rides spaceship-like vehicles that operate on 300 kmph on the regular, who says I’m still right on the head with my perception of reality?

I’m learning to trust humanity more though. My mum and Gem had made it pretty clear that my happiness on the outside and guarded on the inside persona will just make me lonely in the long-run, I needed a companion in life like the both of them had found in their partners. And to be honest, I’m done feeling like a lone wolf too, that’s why at the start of this year’s season I had made a personal vow to actually commit in allowing myself to trust the dark and bleak society I have come to be wary of. It would allow me to find the genuine ones no matter how miniscule they may come nowadays.

So I’m officially calling this interaction with Sophia as me trying; trying to connect with new people while using a pair of fresh eyes that hold no judgment. There’s nothing wrong with befriending beautiful strangers in a random street somewhere in Imola, especially if they’re here acting as my knight in shining yellow handbag.

“I suggest we don’t touch anything.” Sophia let out after her whole list-down of questions she asked me about the possible problems of my car.

“What?” I was stunned at her change of perspective, my brows furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean let’s not touch anything? It seems to me seconds ago that you know your way with cars much more than me, or any of the current drivers on the grid.”

My statement made her giggle, the crinkles of her eyes catching my gaze like the sound of her laugh isn’t adorable enough to attract all my attention. “I’d take that as a compliment since you seem like an honest person. But regardless of how much of a car encyclopedia I am, that still doesn’t qualify me from actually breaking apart this bloody expensive car.”

“Then why’d you ask me all those things then?”

“Maybe because I wanted to see for myself if you’re really a racer who knows no shit about cars or you were just waiting to impress me with all your overflowing knowledge about it like a stereotypical testosterone-ego filled motorsport driver.”

I snorted unattractively, enthralled by her honest words despite its teasing tone. “I hope I didn’t disappoint then that I’m not your typical racing driver, that I’m really just a big fraud of my kind who’s basically a big disgrace in our industry since I know close to nothing about the thing that makes my job work in the first place.”

I don’t know what kind of reaction I was waiting for, but it certainly wasn’t her loud laughter echoing around the quiet Italian street, nor the way her hand had comfortably, almost mindlessly pushed me lightly on my shoulders like it’s for her own good that I should stop making these jokes about myself. I liked it though, her reaction. Far too much.

“Well I’m hoping this isn’t your attempt at running away from the Imola grand prix this weekend considering I don’t think you’re that bad of a driver regardless if you don’t know how to properly fix one.” Sophia proceeded to give me a carefree smile, as if she hadn’t just complimented me for the first time.

And how I felt like preening at noting such a random thing, I have no idea. It seems to be the overall theme for my afternoon. “Sadly, no. My boss wouldn’t have lent me this car if he had heard any inklings that I was going rogue for an Italian holiday, no matter how lovely that sounds now.”

I saw the interest flash in her eyes after that, “So if you’re not on the run from your racing obligations, then what’s so pressing you had to drive a car you barely know anything about?”

I didn’t see any harm in sharing my plans, especially when my current situation makes it seem more like canceled plans now that I’ll be able to accomplish the next time I visit Emilia Romania. I tried to keep my disappointment at the minimum when I told her.

“Nothing that special, actually. You see, today’s my only free day from any race or media stuff so I just wanted to head to this specific beach and watch the sunset. Just to have some time for me, to be one with the peace and quiet of the ocean.”

I am unsure what she sees in my expression after I had said that, but one look at Sophia made me believe I did a piss poor job at concealing displeasure. A frown is etched on her forehead, corners of her lips turned downwards, her eyes wide with sympathy dancing in her irises.

That look on her face stunned me on my seat once again. I decided that I wanted to remove that saddened look on her face, her face that should always be full of life and brightness like the sunshine that she is. But more importantly, what had gotten me dazed like an utter fool being hit unknowingly by cupid’s arrow is this sudden realization that had completely turned my perspective of this entire situation in another fucking direction.

How do you tell I woman you met barely an hour ago, a woman as charming, kind, honest, and simply compeling woman like Sophia, that I don’t give a single fuck about the sunset and the beach anymore when I’m content just staring at her pools of ocean blue? That her aura is enough and more to compete with a stunning Italian sunset?

But before I could even act more like a fool in front of her by trying to articulate those gobsmacking thoughts of pure sappiness and vulnerability all in one, Sophia beats me to it by asking me her own question.

“What’s your thoughts on just calling someone to fix your car? And while there doing that task, you and I head together to that beach you were keen to go to, watch the sunset, and even eat some gelato while doing all that. You game?”

*~*~*

Something is cooking...🧡🏎️

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rideinternal · 7 months

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#sturmey archer #bicycle #bike #3 speed #hub #vintage

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wetsteve3 · 2 years

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Rare 'Baby Bighorn' 250cc version of the F5 350

Older Marbles Motors restoration Showing 600 light-use miles since restoration

Hatta fork, rotary-valve induction Starting in the late 1960s with its F-series of dual-purpose bikes, Kawasaki made a strong play for U.S. on/off-road riders. Best remembered is the biggest, the F5 Bighorn 350, but a 250cc version was also available, the F8 Bison, identical to its big brother except for a smaller piston, different paint and a 19in. front wheel in place of the F5's 21-incher.

Out in the field it soon became known as the "Baby Bighorn." Kawasaki's fondness for rotary-valve induction on its two-strokes usually translated into class-leading horsepower, a trait upheld with the F5 and F8.

The Klemm Vintage speed shop has a long history with the bikes, and successfully road races a Bighorn in AHRMA vintage events. "Of all the vintage enduros of the day, the Bighorn 350 and Bison 250 had by far the best overall power output, along with reliability that easily matched all the rest," they say.

Kawasaki's rotary-valve setup used a thin hardened-steel disc (more pork chop shaped, actually) mounted to the crankshaft between the right end of the crankcase and an outboard-mounted carburetor. The spinning disc controlled intake timing, advantages being that the intake port is open and unobstructed for a long time, and that the timing can be "asymmetrical," which allows engineers the option of boosting low-end power, a feature Kawasaki took full advantage of.

Biggest disadvantage of the system is the added engine width caused by the carburetor being hung out on the right side, but on the F5 and F8 the carb was tucked in nicely, sealed in its own housing that provided protection from the elements, not to mention rocks and passing pucker bushes.

Both bikes were equipped with the so-called Hatta fork, a multi-adjustable unit with three axle positions, 4in. of stanchion-tube adjustment and three-way spring preload, quite advanced for the time. Cycle World magazine had no suspension complaints during their test of the 350, claiming, "The Bighorn is one of the few dual-purpose machines that we would take unmodified, lights and all, to a woods or desert enduro."

Today, restored examples of either machine are rare finds, simply because spare parts are so difficult to source. This 1971 Bison was expertly restored by Marbles Motors some years back, and was recently re-acquired by the shop from the owner after 600 happy miles had been logged. It still runs well, we're told, showing only minor patina from its light use

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hizokucycles · 2 years

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Reposted from @borisgfc DEEP n' VINTAGE #fixedgear #fixie #track #trackbike #pignonfixe #street #bike #bikeporn #velo #custom #singlespeed #vintage #steel #steelisreal #vintage #savethetrackbike #brakeless #fromwhereiride #dreambike #dreambuild #baaw #outsideisfree #urban #street #city #hizokucycles Hizokucycles.com https://www.instagram.com/p/Cc58FpTPCaS/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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rashivermaofficial · 2 years

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Happy Ganesh Chaturthi to All | How to Celebrate the Hindu God Ganesh Chathurthi?

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loadYouTubePlayer('yt_video_Vc9jZ8WYNa4_FMK4Dl3fmcWVsZu4');

Ganesh Chaturthi is celebrated every year on the Chaturthi Tithi of Shukla Paksha of Bhadrapada month. It is also known as Vinayaka Chaturthi. This year Ganesh Chaturthi is falling on 31st August. On this day the devotees of Lord Ganesha bring his idol home and establish it. Ganesh Chaturthi is celebrated to mark the birthday of Lord Ganesha. The 11-day festival includes welcoming Ganpati into our homes. गणेश चतुर्थी हर साल भाद्रपद माह के शुक्ल पक्ष की चतुर्थी तिथि को मनाई जाती है। इसे विनायक चतुर्थी के नाम से भी जाना जाता है। इस साल गणेश चतुर्थी 31 अगस्त को पड़ रही है। इस दिन भगवान गणेश के भक्त उनकी प्रतिमा घर लाकर उसकी स्थापना करते हैं। गणेश चतुर्थी भगवान गणेश के जन्मदिन को चिह्नित करने के लिए मनाया जाता है। 11 दिनों तक चलने वाले इस उत्सव में हमारे घरों में गणपति का स्वागत करना शामिल है। ganesh chaturthi 2022 | ganesh chaturthi festival | ganesh chaturthi kab hai | ganesh chaturthi status | ganesh chaturthi | ganesh chaturthi special | ganesh chaturthi celebrations | ganesh ji ki aarti | jai ganesh jai ganesh deva | ganesha | ganesh songs | ganesh aarti | ganpati aarti | ganesh | ganpati bappa morya | aarti | ganpati songs | rashi verma | राशि वर्मा | ganesh mantra | ganesh vandana | ganeshotsav | 2022 ganesh chaturthi | ganpati bapa status | ganpati bappa whatsapp status 2022 गणेश चतुर्थी 2022 | गणेश चतुर्थी उत्सव | गणेश चतुर्थी कब है | गणेश चतुर्थी स्थिति | गणेश चतुर्थी | गणेश चतुर्थी विशेष | गणेश चतुर्थी समारोह | गणेश जी की आरती | जय गणेश जय गणेश देवा | गणेश | गणेश गाने | गणेश आरती | गणपति आरती | गणेश | गणपति बप्पा मोरया | आरती | गणपति गाने | गणेश मंत्र | गणेश वंदना | गणेशोत्सव | 2022 गणेश चतुर्थी | गणपति बापा स्थिति | गणपति बप्पा व्हाट्सएप स्टेटस 2022 #ganeshchaturthi #ganeshchaturthi2022 #ganeshchaturthistatus #ganeshchaturthifestival #ganeshchaturthikabhai #ganeshchaturthispecial #ganeshchaturthicelebrations #ganeshjikiaarti #jaiganeshjaiganeshdeva #ganesha #ganeshsongs #ganeshaarti #ganpatiaarti #ganesh #ganpatibappamorya #aarti #ganpatisongs #rashiverma #राशि_वर्मा #ganeshmantra #ganeshvandana #ganeshotsav #2022ganeshchaturthi #ganpatibapastatus #ganpatibappawhatsappstatus2022 My other cool videos for the kid's link are given below. 1) Wooden Pink dollhouse - https://youtu.be/gBMpbht_CC4 2) Dogs Team Toys - https://youtu.be/LXgcZmGU7L4 3) Vanguard Racer Vs Moka Four Wheel Drive - https://youtu.be/gXCM6JWyIKo 4) Fire Station Parking Lot - https://youtu.be/VsbBZnt7814 5) Bee Tumble RC and Steel Cavalry - https://youtu.be/YPG-9gw_fJ4 6) Hot Wheels Unboxing and Show Case - https://youtu.be/C-asBBIDHsg 7) Hot Wheels Croc Attack - https://youtu.be/nDSrIFwHLzo 8) Hot Wheels Mega Hauler - https://youtu.be/bs-ndww6mJU 9) Large Kitchen Set Unboxing - https://youtu.be/ZGWPt5TPA10 10) Vintage Cars Toys - https://youtu.be/kKFf-OUu9lY 11) High-Speed Magic Cars - https://youtu.be/1N-SIiY41k4 12) Unboxing Magic Track Race Car and Play - https://youtu.be/Aqp9UaIiHX8 14) Hot Wheels Tornado Tracks - https://youtu.be/xPjI-mZwBOU 15) Magic Track Set - https://youtu.be/vVfit4PF8qU 16) Hot Wheels: Space Strife - Attack the Mother Spaceship - https://youtu.be/Qvbt5K9qUuo 17) Delhi State Level Boxing Championship 2021 - https://youtu.be/pm5GInWuKz0 18) Magic Track Car Video - https://youtu.be/vVfit4PF8qU 19) Magnetic Mix or Match Farm Animals - https://youtu.be/phFVdoclwCg 20) Moto Rover Stunt Bike - https://youtu.be/jKKYNfROW1Y

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