#bike shed motorcycle club

[fuckyeahtravelphotos]

“How to get banned” - warning sign in the garage of the Bike Shed Motorcycle Club, Shoreditch, London

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Perfect Life || CL16 {5}

Summary: It’s Charles first real introduction to his new employee. Warnings: angst, swearing, sarcasm, underground fighting, injuries. WC: 2.7k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six Taglist: RETIRED Head over to my dedicated library blog @dilemmaslibrary and opt to get notifications from there.

The black leather pants and hoodie hid your presence well as you crept through the backyard just before midnight. After years of sneaking in and out of the property you knew exactly where to step to avoid activating the motion sensor lights and Charles followed each step carefully. He had tried to get you to stay at home but finally relented to your stubbornness and changed into more inconspicuous clothes too. 

Eventually you reached the small gate that the gardeners used for supply deliveries and found Franco had left it unlocked. The gentle giant had worked security for the last 20 years and aided your escapes more than he liked to admit. 

“I hope you know how to ride,” you commented as you opened the caretaker’s shed and tossed him your helmet. 

Charles looked at the helmet and turned it so the moonlight caught the almost imperceptible writing on the black carbon - What doesn’t kill me makes me angry. “Fitting,” he chuckled before handing it back. “You wear it.”

“You’re the one with the career, you should wear it.” You swung your heel back and knocked the kickstand up before wheeling the motorcycle out of the shed. It wasn’t the quickest way out but you couldn’t risk waking anyone up with the engine so you always walked it down the street before climbing on. 

“It’s actually in my contract that I should avoid dangerous activities and I’m pretty sure this would count as one,” he said as he hung the helmet back on the handlebars and helped push the heavy bike along. 

“You’re welcome to stay here in that case, or walk.”

Charles scoffed and shook his head. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

You deemed it far enough from the house and swung your leg over the seat, patting the space behind you. “Get on.”

Charles’ arms wrapped around your middle as he took the seat and kicked the riding pegs out with his boots. 

“I’m not sure if you are brave or stupid,” you commented. “You do realise your life is in my hands now.”

“Ma said the two usually go hand in hand but I trust you.”

You were acutely aware of every inch of Charles that touched you for the 15 minute ride to the latest address you had received. His chest rested against your back and his hands that lay on your thighs, only shifting to hold your waist through the corners he leaned into. It was clear he had ridden before but it was probably his first time being the backpack. 

“This used to be a nightclub,” Charles said with a frown as you parked in an alleyway and killed the engine. 

The old staff entrance was propped open with a brick and you ushered Charles inside where the noise grew with each step. 

“Phones,” Rex said as he held his hand out in front of the door that led to the club. You handed yours over first, taking the tab with a number so you could claim it after but the rules were strict, no phones, no cameras. Charles had a harder time parting with his but eventually handed it over with a frown and the doors opened. 

The old three storey nightclub had an empty core surrounded by a spiralling staircase that descended two storeys into the basement and one that rose up. The biggest punters would be in the VIP area above and the spectators would line the rails to get the best view of the pit that sat central on the lowest level. 

Charles looked over the rail and blanched as two regulars went face to face, blood dripping from the gashes that had been opened by the bare knuckles they fought with. 

“Hey,” Arthur greeted with a beer in his hand. “I thought maybe he talked you out of coming.”

“As if, but I was hoping he would stay behind” you said, stealing his beer to take a sip. “Who’s going to bail us out if this place gets raided?”

“We’ll be fine,” Arthur joked. “He’s a runner so we can still call him.”

“Except they took my phone,” Charles grumbled. 

Arthur looked at his brother’s hand that almost always held the device and laughed until he noticed the dark sweatpants and hoodie he wore. “You stole my clothes.”

“You left them in my girlfriend's room.” Charles paused and stole the beer next, finishing it off with a cringe. “That is not a sentence I ever thought I would say.”

“While you ponder what your life has become, I am going to go get ready.” You turned and kissed Arthur’s cheek in farewell. “See you down there.”

“Where’s my kiss?” Charles asked, his brow arched in a challenge. 

You were already two steps away when you looked over your shoulder. “You can kiss my ass.” It unintentionally drew his eyes down your body to the leather that looked like it had been poured onto your skin and those eyes lingered on your ass until you descended the stairs and disappeared from sight.

“You do realise you are fake dating, right?”

Charles rolled his eyes and lightly shoved his younger brother. “I can still appreciate a good looking woman when I see one.”

“Well, keep those thoughts to yourself. She’s been hurt enough.”

Charles dragged a hand through his hair and nodded. “I know, she told me. I really fucked up, but I thought you were happy about the arrangement?”

“I don’t exactly have a genie lying around, so you're the next best hope she has of getting out of that hellhole.” Arthur shrugged. “I don’t have to tell you that if you fuck this up for her I will never forgive you.”

In the bathrooms of the basement you opened the duffle bag and changed into your usual sports bra and shorts before uncapping the Vaseline and smearing the gel over your cheeks. The familiar scent calmed your mind as you wiped the excess off and grabbed the tape to wrap your knuckles. The monotonous routine was your focus, the sounds outside the room fading as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Evidence of your tears still remained in your puffy eyes but you felt better having finally told him what had weighed you down for a decade. You didn’t want to read too much into that thought as you tied your hair back into a bun so no one could pull it in the ring. 

The bell for the end of the last fight rang out and you shook your head to clear it before kicking your bag under the sink and leaving. Arthur was waiting outside with Charles a few steps away and he checked your fists before walking to the ring. Blood splatters littered the vinyl floor that had been rolled out and two of the helpers were dragging an unconscious man out of the way.

“Bathroom is there if you’re gonna vomit,” you said to Charles as he swallowed nervously. From the other side of the ring Kaine was grinning at you, his mouth guard the colour of blood he was looking to spill, and you blew him a kiss. 

“You’re fighting a guy!?” Charles exclaimed as he realised that was your competitor. 

“There’s not exactly many female fighters to choose from.”

“You could get hurt, that man is huge.”

You rolled your shoulders out and bounced on the balls of your feet as you warmed up. “You’re really great at instilling confidence, you should have your own Ted Talk.”

“If you’re not going to help then go away,” Arthur growled before turning to face you. “Remember, he favours his right leg and Javier broke his collarbone last month. What doesn’t kill you?”

“Makes me angry.” You opened your mouth and Arthur put your mouthguard in before opening the cage door for the octagonal ring. On the floors above cash was trading hands as the bookies took the bets but you paid them no mind as you circled the floor with Kaine. 

“She’s going to get killed,” Charles choked as he laced his fingers in the chain link fence. “He’s massive.”

“She’s agile. What she lacks in size she makes up for with speed. Just don’t be shocked by what you see.”

“What do you mean? I'm already shocked.”

Arthur snorted a laugh. “Just wait, I didn’t even recognise her the first time. It’s like watching a completely different person take over her body.”

All the anger and hate that lay dormant in your body awoke when the bell rang and the ref stepped out from between you and Kaine. All the emotions that you kept bottled inside were released and your eyes narrowed on the man who was going to be at the receiving end. 

Kaine rushed across the mat with all the grace of a baby elephant charging on rollerskates. The very floor vibrated with each stomp of his size 14 feet and his fist reeled back and he poured his entire strength into the first punch. Unfortunately it was his bulk that slowed the punch down and you easily avoided the attack that could have probably crushed your skull. You ducked under his arm and used your spinning momentum to land a kick on his left knee. The joint twisted unnaturally and he cried out as with pain and anger. 

Arthur was right, he did favour his right leg and you had just re-injured the old ailment. Off balance, he tried to follow your quick movements but you were already back in front of him, jabbing a quick one-two combo to his core. Heat flared in your fists as they connected with the hard muscle of his abs but you welcomed the rush of adrenaline that followed the pain. Kaine threw a punch of his own and you skirted away but not quick enough and his knuckles more than caressed your cheek. You had dodged the knockout blow but there would still be a bruise to show for your slow reaction.

“Nice work,” you said with a grin as you circled around each other. “You almost got me, big boy. C’mon, take another shot.”

You probably shouldn’t have taunted him because there was no avoiding the roundhouse kick that rattled your rib cage and knocked the breath out of you with a gasp. It was a mistake to look at Charles through the fence but you saw the worry in his eyes and the white-knuckled grip he had on the chain. 

“Watch out,” he shouted as the concern turned to panic for what was coming behind you.

On instinct you dropped low and raised your arms to protect your head, barely missing the right hook that would have rendered you unconscious. Rage took over as he leapt forward on his good leg to attack again and you waited for him to overextend into the punch before stepping closer. It was impossible for him to defend in such a confined space and he was surprised by the sudden change. You planted your feet and drove the power of your punch up from your legs, twisting your hips as you rolled your shoulder and crashed your left fist into the softer skin protecting his kidney. A deep grunt expelled from him as he hunched over and you followed through with a right hook of your own. Right into his weak spot. 

His piercing cry was almost as sharp as the snap of bone under your knuckles and he stumbled back clutching his collar that was freshly rebroken. The roar of the crowd was deafening as the bell rang for the round’s end and you threw your swollen fists into the air while your ribs protested. 

Kaine limped back to his corner and shook his head to the ref, ending the fight after only one round. You tugged your mouthguard out and shook your head disappointingly. “Pussy.”

He spat his guard to the ground and winced as he cradled his arm over his chest. “Crazy bitch.”

You smiled at the insult and curled a finger. “Wanna come over here and say that?”

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t attempt to re-enter the ring so you turned and made your own exit. Arthur was waiting with a grin on his face and his arms open but before you could step into his embrace Charles was there. The shock barely registered when his arms curled around you and for a moment you felt something, but then the pain in your ribs reared its ugly head.

“Fuck,” you groaned as you shoved him away and looked down at the bruise already blooming along your side. “I think he might’ve broken one.”

“Shit, we need to get you to the hospital.”

It annoyed you how easy it was to read Charles' face. Concern, regret, anger. It was like reading a book and you wanted to tell him to relax but it was quite nice to have another person around who actually showed their feelings. 

“Great idea, and what do you think we should tell them?” you asked as you started to make your way back to the bathroom. “I don’t think ‘it was an accident’ is going to satisfy them.”

“Fine,” Charles sighed, “where do you normally go when you get hurt?”

You stared at Arthur and he stared back before his lips twitched and you both laughed. An irritated growl rumbled from Charles before Arthur pointed to the messenger bag hanging from his shoulder. 

“He makes a cute doctor,” you said with a wink before he followed you into the bathroom. Charles tried to follow too but you blocked the doorway. “Sorry, patient/doctor confidentiality.”

You cut off his protests with the door and leaned back against the cold wood. “Do you think he will still be there?”

Arthur nodded and opened the bag to pull out a few bandages and a bottle of arnica. “I don’t think you are getting rid of him anytime soon.”

“Great.”

“Is it really that bad?” Arthur asked as he gently dabbed the arnica over the bruises. 

“Kind of hard to erase a decade of hate, even if he is hot.”

Arthur grinned and you rolled your eyes. “You think he’s hot.”

“Shut up. I’m not blind.” You unravelled the tape from your knuckles before waving a hand over him. “You’re hot too but it doesn’t mean I want to date you.”

“Thanks? I guess?”

“You know what I mean. Would you date me?”

“Are you asking me out? It’s a bit awkward since you are dating my brother.”

You huffed and glared at his amused grin. “Fake.”

“Potayto, potahto. But, no, if you really need to know, I wouldn’t date you. You’re my best friend, you know me way too well.”

“Exactly, I could never be with someone who brushes their teeth in the shower.”

“Once, for fucksake, I did that once when I was running late.”

You screwed your face up and shook your head with disgust. “There’s no excuse, Tur. We will just have to be friends.”

“Carve my heart out now,” he mocked before patting your side. “All done. Ready to go?”

You thought about the man waiting on the other side of the door and sighed at the thought of having to sleep in the same room as him. “Do you want to stay the night?”

“Oh, no, no, I am not going to be your buffer. You gotta figure out whatever is going on between you and Charles on your own.” He kissed your cheek and grinned at the sour look on your face. “Love you.”

“Ugh, I hate you,” you groaned and his smile only grew wider at the lie.

“Tell Cha to call me in the morning, so I know he is alive.”

Click here for the next part.

[agustdakasuga]

The Way Of A Criminal: Chapter 4

Genre: Mafia!AU, Criminal!AU, Angst, Romance

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Your father was a stranger, you never knew who he was and what he did. But one day, someone knocks on your door, informing you of his passing. Now, you learn more about him, his life and the legacy you are expected to continue with the help of his 7 executives.

Story warning(s): This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed/gore, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking and gambling. This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. Please read at your own discretion.

Instead of dealing with all this head on, you avoided it. You put everything aside and went on with life, spending all your time doing work, studying and doing your university projects.

Wonwoo noticed this and decided to invite you for a night out. Just a chill night with some drinks. Usually, you would decline, which is why Wonwoo has never invited you out. But you could use the distraction. Maybe being out of the house was good.

DING DONG

“Coming!” You ran down, fixing your earring. You didn’t really know how to dress for a night out like this so you picked a random dress. It was a dark blue, crushed velvet cocktail dress.

“Come on in.” You opened the door for him. Wonwoo smiled, bowing before removing his shoes to come in.

“This dress isn’t really motorcycle friendly, is it?” You let out an awkward laugh, going into the kitchen to get your phone that you left there to charge.

“I didn’t ride my bike since we might drink. I’ll call a cab.” Wonwoo said. He just stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do since it was the first time he was in your house.

“(y/n)?” Wonwoo suddenly called your name, stopping you in your tracks.

“You look great.” He smiled softly.

“Oh... Thank you.” You felt your cheeks heat up at his sudden compliment. He held out a hand to support you as you wore your shoes. After locking up the house, he escorted you to the cab that was waiting for you. And of course, Wonwoo opened the door for you to get in first, being the gentleman that he is. The car ride was silent.

“C-Can I ask you something?” Wonwoo threaded lightly. You hummed, nodding your head.

“I know you like your privacy and I shouldn’t pry but there were this rumours and pictures floating around about some expensive sports car and handsome guy picking you up. Is he one of them?” He asked nervously.

“If by ‘one of them’, you mean my father’s... employees. Yes, he is... or was. There are 7 of them.” You rubbed the back of your neck.

“Are they bothering you?”

“Can we not talk about this anymore? I just don’t want to have to think about it for a few minutes.” That came out a lot harsher and colder than you expected. But Wonwoo didn’t react.

“Sorry. I’m...” You sighed, not really knowing how to piece your words together anymore.

“I understand. Don’t worry about it. I didn’t mean to pry.” Wonwoo smiled comfortingly. Thankfully for you, the cab stopped outside the club. You looked at the long line outside that didn’t seem to be moving,

“Don’t look so worried. My friend put our name on the list so we can just walk in.” Wonwoo laughed. You both got out and he grasped your hand, giving your names to the bouncer. You were so stunned by his action that you just followed him without a word, letting him lead you.

“There’s a table there.” Wonwoo said in your ear on top of the loud music. You were still shocked that he was holding your hand that you just followed him.

“Phew, it’s crowded.” You said, casually pulling your hand away to check if you dropped anything from your bag.

“Yeah, that’s what you get for being here on a Friday night.” He chuckled. You stood at the table while Wonwoo went to get drinks at the bar. The standing table was thankfully at the side of the bar, which meant less people.

“Relax, you’re here to have fun.” You told yourself.

“Here.” Wonwoo got himself a beer and got you a cocktail. It was a nice refreshing drink with flavoured soju as the alcohol.

“Let me know how much everything is tonight and we’ll split the cost.” You told him as you took a sip.

“It’s okay, (y/n). It’s my treat, just enjoy yourself.” Wonwoo smiled. He clinked his glass with yours. Although this wasn’t your exact idea of relaxing, you were glad that the noise and the crowd made the place too loud that you didn’t need to start sharing your feelings. Wonwoo was a good friend but you just weren’t used to sharing so much about yourself with others.

After some drinks, you excused yourself to go to the toilet. But of course, there was a line. About 15 minutes went by without the line moving. You were about to give up when someone grabbed your wrist.

“(y/n) sshi?” You looked at the familiar face.

“Oh... Uh...”

“Yoongi.” He said, letting you go. You nodded your head. Other people in the line now had their attention on you and Yoongi.

“Come.” He nodded over to follow him. You didn’t know why you just went along, not even asking why he wanted you to go with him. You came before a staircase with two guards. But they parted ways upon seeing Yoongi.

“Sir.” They bowed respectfully as Yoongi cooly walked up, hands tucked into his pockets. You quickly bowed your heads back to the guards and caught up to Yoongi.

“You can use this bathroom instead. It’s cleaner and safer.” Yoongi stopped before a door.

“A-Are you sure?”

“If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t have went down to fish you out of the crowd. Take all the time you need. This is our own private bathroom so no one else is allowed to use it.” He explained. You nodded, bowing gratefully to him before entering the restroom.

The bathroom was a lot more opulent and grand, with black granite and gold trims. Like Yoongi said, it was very clean, unlike a usual club bathroom. It was definitely a boys bathroom with urinals but you just used one of the stalls.

“Hyung, why can’t I use the bathroom? I really need to go!” You heard voices outside as you were washing your hands.

“Only the 7 of us use it anyway. Unless... Do you have a secret guest in there?!” The person talking to Yoongi gasped as if he just uncovered something scandalous.

“Watch your mouth.” You heard Yoongi threaten.

“Sorry, I’m done.” You opened the door. But you didn’t expect Yoongi to be standing so close that you ended up bumping into his back.

“Oh, no wonder hyung was guarding the bathroom.” The male said. He didn’t mind you and just brushed past to use the bathroom. Yoongi moved you away from the bathroom door, not wanting you to accidentally get hit.

“Thank you. Is it okay if I just stay here for a few more minutes? You can go back to what you were doing before.” You asked timidly. Yoongi took one look at you and nodded. You didn’t need to tell him anything for him to know what you were thinking. The club was getting overwhelming. Yoongi never really liked coming too unless his brothers make him.

“Why did you come if you don’t like it?”

“A friend brought me here as a distraction. Plus, I’ve never really come to a club before.” You replied. Yoongi nodded his head.

“You don’t need to stay and accompany me. I’ll go back down in a bit.” You said.

“It’s okay.” He leaned against the opposite wall. You took your phone out to send Wonwoo a text, assuring him that you were safe and that he could go home first. But you didn’t tell him where you were and who you were with.

“Actually... I wanted to apologise. My brothers told me I shouldn’t have offered you a smoke the other time. I just thought it would help.” Yoongi looked at you.

“It’s fine. I honestly didn’t think too much about it. There were other things to think about.” You shook your head.

“Understandable. I’m sure you have your fair share of confusion and questions that come along with it. This is just the start.” Yoongi said. You didn’t let his straightforward tone faze you, nodding your head glumly.

“Well, I should go. Thanks for letting me hang here.” You straightened up.

“No worries. I’ll walk you down.” Yoongi followed suit. You walked behind him, not sure of the way to the exit. With your insistence, Wonwoo had gone home on his own. You did feel bad for abandoning him when he was the one that invited you out but you also didn’t want him to wait.

“Do you have a ride home?” Yoongi asked.

“I told my friend to go home first so I guess I can get a cab home.” You waved him off, getting your phone out. But Yoongi stopped you, his hand grasping your phone and covering the screen.

“It’s not safe and cheap to get a cab from here at this time. I drank a little so I shouldn’t drive. Hang on.” Yoongi waved over one of the bouncers.

“Use the company car and send her home then report back.” Yoongi ordered.

“Yoongi sshi, it’s really okay.”

“Get the address from her and make sure you see her entering the house before coming back.” Yoongi ignored you. The bouncer nodded and bowed, running off the get the car.

“(y/n) sshi, hyung.” You both turned to see Taehyung jogging over. He had a big, square-ish grin as he waved.

“Jimin said you were here and that Yoongi hyung was with you. Are you driving her home, hyung?” Taehyung tilted his head.

“I drank. So was gonna get one of the workers to drive her back.” Yoongi explained, standing back as he lit a cigarette to smoke. Taehyung nodded his head.

“I’ll drive you home. I didn’t drink since I am the designated driver tonight. Bring my car instead.” Taehyung called out. The worker bowed and ran back into the club. Yoongi decided to go in first after his cigarette was done, not liking being out in the cold. He shot you a nod while you bowed gratefully to him. While waiting, Taehyung put his jacket over your shoulders.

“Did you come alone?” Taehyung asked.

“No... I came with a friend but I abandoned him. Yoongi sshi was kind enough to let me hang out in the quiet area. So I told my friend to go home first.” You said. You didn’t know why you were explaining so much to him.

“This isn’t you scene, is it?” He teased. You pursed your lips and shook your head. The noise and the crowd just wasn’t comfortable.

“Sir.” The car stopped right in front of you. The worker came out, bowing and passing Taehyung’s keys to him.

“Here you go. Watch your head.” Taehyung opened the car door for you to enter. You sat inside, keeping the sides of his jacket close to you so it wouldn’t get caught in the door.

Taehyung confirmed your address before starting to drive. One hand held his head, elbow resting on the door next to him while the other hand was on the steering wheel. During the quiet ride, you fiddled with the hem of the dress, pulling it down every now and then.

“Are you cold?” He asked.

“No, I’m good. Thank you.” You replied softly. With your head leaning against the headrest, you looked out the window. The only reason you would be out this late usually was because you were working.

“Thanks for dropping me off again.” You said as Taehyung pulled up outside of your house.

“Any time.” Taehyung smiled. You unbluckled your seatbelt and got out of the car. But before you could walk further, Taehyung rolled down the window.

“Goodnight, (y/n)!”

“G-Goodnight, Taehyung sshi.” A small smile formed on your lips as you bowed your head and entered the house. Like the other day, Taehyung only drove off after he was sure you had entered the house.

Only after you entered the house and you heard Taehyung drive off, that you realised you had forgotten the return him his jacket. You removed it carefully, as if any movement would cause it to tear like tissue. You inspected it, trying to figure out if you should wash it on your own, and risk ruining the expensive material, or just send it for dry cleaning.

“Hi, Wonwoo. Did you make it home safe?”

“Oh, (y/n). Yes, I am home. I went home after you sent me that text. Are you alright? You scared me.”

“Yes, I am alright. I just found a quiet space to chill for a while so I didn’t want you to wait for me. I just got home. Sorry for ruining the night. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” You said, putting your shoes away.

“Don’t say that, (y/n). I’m sorry you didn’t enjoy yourself.”

“I did enjoy myself, Wonwoo. Thank you for bringing me out to feel better.” You laughed. After wishing each other good night, you hung up.

You took a shower and was feeling peckish so you made yourself some ramyeon. There was always ramyeon in the kitchen for when you or your mother needed a late night snack after working.

“I’ll have to drop the jacket off at the dry cleaners tomorrow.” You groaned tiredly, looking at the blazer that rested over the back of the chair.

-

Hoseok was one of the first ones to wake up. After a day of working and a night of drinking, the boys all usually slept in during the weekends. The moment his foot touched the bottom of the stairs, a maid ran over to him, bowing her head in fear.

“What is it?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Your workers are here, sir. They said that it is important for you to see them immediately.” She relayed timidly, afraid of making him angry.

“Send them in. And get my breakfast.” Hoseok shooed her away before shuffling to the dining room. Like any other normal person, he didn’t like having to work on the weekends.

“Good morning, Boss.” The 3 men put the crate that they were carrying down and bowed to Hoseok.

“This better be important for you to be here on a Saturday morning.” Hoseok said, not even looking up at them. He was more focused on the tray of food that the butler had placed down in front of him.

“The shipment is here early. We thought you would want to check it right away.” One of the men informed. Hoseok put his napkin on the table and stood up.

“Show me.” He commanded as he walked over. The men opened the box, revealing the contents inside.

“Very nice...” He picked up one of the items.

“Business on a Saturday morning, Hobah?” Yoongi came in. Hoseok’s workers bowed upon seeing the pale man enter the dining room. But of course, he didn’t even spare them a glance. He sat down in his allocated seat, waiting for the staff to serve him his breakfast. His breakfast was usually an iced coffee then his food 20 minutes later.

“Can’t help it, hyung. You want the best, you’ve got to work when others aren’t.” Hoseok laughed while Yoongi snorted at his comment. He placed the items back into the crate.

“Leave this here. I’ll show the others to see what they think. Good work. We’ll discuss the rest on Monday.” Hoseok said.

“Of course, boss. Have a nice weekend.” The 3 bowed, moving the crate to the side of the room before leaving the mansion. Hoseok took his seat across Yoongi.

“So hyung, I heard you had a little moment with the girl.” Hoseok asked.

“What moment?” Yoongi asked back, no emotion on his face as he sipped the last bit of his coffee.

“Jimin said you loyally guarded the door for her as she used our toilet. Even stayed with her in the hallway after to comfort her.” He explained. Yoongi rolled his eyes, his brothers really needed better things to talk about.

“I saw her the moment she entered, I’m surprised you guys didn’t considering how high our booth is. She needed to use a toilet and the queue was insane so I offered her to use ours. And I wasn’t comforting her, she needed a quiet place and I stayed with her. That’s all.” Yoongi explained.

“Well, that’s a lot more interaction than what the rest have got. Looks like she’ll warm up to you first.” Hoseok said.

“No, she’ll warm up to Taehyung first. He was the one that sent her home.” Yoongi dug into his food on the tray that the butler brought him. Hoseok hummed but couldn’t help the giggle that escaped him.

“What’s Hobi laughing about?” Namjoon came in. He had been awake for a while, opting to sit in his room to read the newspaper rather than come downstairs right away.

“No idea.” Yoongi replied, putting a chopstick of rice into his mouth.

“Ah, seriously, Hobi. I thought we established that we are not going to bring work into the dining room?” Namjoon tsked at the crate in the room.

“It’s fine, Namjoon ah. I’ll move it after breakfast. The boys needed me to inspect the goods, that’s all. Even risked bothering me on a Saturday to do it.” Hoseok waved the leader off. Namjoon shook his head with a sigh.

“Bring my breakfast.” He ordered as he took his seat at the head of the table. The butler bowed and left.

“I’m done. Going back to sleep.” Yoongi stood up and shuffled out of the room. The weekend was for Yoongi to catch up on sleep, it was normal to not see him for the entirety of the two days because he was just sleeping or resting in bed. Jin and Taehyung were the last ones that had breakfast. Jungkook and Jimin would sleep in until dinner time.

“Here. Take what is yours and leave the rest. I told you I would get things done.” Jin dropped the stack of files on the table. Namjoon, Hoseok and Taehyung shrugged, going through the pile to retrieve their things.

“So, hyung, did you find out anymore information about (y/n) when you did your stalking?” Taehyung asked.

“Yah, Taehyung! That was supposed to be confidential.” Jin hissed at the younger exposing him to the rest. However, the younger just shrugged.

“You’re running a check on her?” Namjoon raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not running a check on her... Well, at least not the background checks I usually do. I just wanted to find out about her to maybe try to connect with her in some way. She is a closed book.” Jin explained.

“So what if she is a closed book, I’m sure you can still find whatever you need on her.” Hosoek laughed.

“That’s the thing... She does not have much of a record except for her birth certificate and basic school details. Everything else either doesn’t exist or has been wiped.” Jin informed.

“Wait, you’re telling me there is actually information that you can’t find?”

“How do you know information has been wiped? She could have just not had that much of an eventful life so far. I doubt she can wipe her own records and she doesn’t seem to have a reason to do that.” Namjoon said. He didn’t know you but you didn’t seem like a skillful hacker that could wipe records.

“I know information has been wiped because I am the one who wiped them...” Jin admitted with his head slightly hung.

“What?”

“Boss wanted me to wipe them. He was paranoid, especially when it came to her. So my task was to regularly wipe her records that were 'not relevant’. Hospital visits, stuff like that...” Jin gulped.

~~

Series Masterlist

Ko-Fi

Main masterlist

[the-whispers-of-death]

sarabi on an unofficial ride with biker!reader and the bike club, and biker!reader gives sarabi his club jacket under the pretence of ‘getting the practice in before he joins’ but in reality he just likes seeing sarabi in his jacket

Sarabi was parked with your motorcycle club, all of you having taken a break from riding along the roads to rest at a nice little clearing. He was still clad in his all-leather outfit and despite being the only one to have his helmet still on, he kept it on no matter how many times everyone else in the club said he could take it off.

You walked over, sitting down next to him on the grass. "How are you liking the club? You thinking of joining us?" you asked, curious.

"They're a nice group of people," Sarabi murmured, eyeing the way the president of the motorcycle club, Rafe, was joking around with a few of the biker women. "I feel like I know Rafe from somewhere..."

"Probably, Rafe's a Marine. And you're former Corps, so that's probably where," you said, waving it off.

It wasn't unusual for people in the motorcycle club to know each other previously from their time in the military, this was after all, a motorcycle club filled with active military and veterans. That was the entire reason why this motorcycle club was founded, so combat-hardened people could come together, relate to one another, and enjoy civilian life without any judgements about how hard it was to adjust to it.

You then turned back to him, shedding off your club jacket. "Here, try this out," you said, giving it to him. "Let's help you decide whether or not this club is for you by seeing how the jacket looks on you. It's important for the decision process, I promise."

"Won't I, you know, stretch it out? I'm bigger than you," Sarabi said, holding out the jacket. He seemed so hesitant on putting it on.

"If you stretch it out, I'll just give it to you to wear when you join and get a new one," you assured him, slipping in the fact that you were confident he'd join the club.

Sarabi glanced at the jacket once more before shrugging off his own leather jacket, revealing the long-sleeved turtleneck beneath.

Jeez, you thought, this guy must be feeling so hot underneath those layers.

He slipped on the jacket, it being stretched out just a little bit. It smelled like you and that made him relax before clearing his throat and looking at you. "How does it look?" he asked.

Your mouth somehow watered and dried up at the sight of him in your jacket. He looked so breathtaking and you wanted to see him in more of your clothes.

You shook your head from the thoughts that were flooding your mind. "It looks nice," you answered, smiling. "You look like you belong with us."

Just as you said that, Rafe called out that they were all planning to get back on the road for more riding. You and Sarabi both got up and you shook your head when he moved to give you the jacket back.

"Why don't you keep it on and see how it feels when you're riding?" You asked, helping him put the jacket back on when he took it off just a little bit. "In the meantime, I'll wear your jacket."

Sarabi's lips parted slightly beneath his helmet as he watched you slip on his leather jacket. It dwarfed your figure easily, but God did it do something to him.

"Fine, but you better take good care of it," he grumbled.

You laughed and walked with him back to where the motorcycles were parked. "Of course, it smells nice." You brought the collar of the jacket to your nose and took in his scent.

"Maybe I'll keep it for myself."

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

[xxx-sir-pentious-xxx]

A Date For Pay.

Clean, wholesome time with a escort and yes I am seriously going to write more stuff.

The mink sinner was nervous, she had been a escort for years now and been rather sure of herself in most situations. But that's because most who paid for her services were simple folks and not giant venomous snakes.

Regardless she made sure to be pretty and fresh scented, fluffing her fur and reading the special request that she dress modestly. She plucked up a knee cut dress with a jacket to cover her exposed shoulders.

She packed extra protection and a switch blade, just in case he decided to try to eat her. I mean with what happened a few days ago she had to be careful. 4 rodent girls getting eaten would scare anyone.

Regardless she'd soon be collected from the club where the others would wait for their own customers.

Eventually a tall black and yellow cobra arrived, showing proof he was the one before guiding her to a custom motor bike.

The build of it was fascinating, made to safely wrap the tail around it with a glass case around where hed wrap around to avoid fall off or debris coming to scratch up or cut his tail. And best of all, there was space to sit a average biped.

"Do you think itss cool? I made it becausse I read women love Motorcycless... I think itss cool at leasst.", he spoke as if he was defending his choice despite not really needing to. It was a pretty sick bike.

He helped the short mink girl onto the bike before getting in/on, also taking the precaution to get her to hold into his waist. Her small hands could feel he had a really nice set of muscles under that really silly... cool guy? Outfit? Whatever hes pretty hot still and is on a motorcycle.

With all that thought on motor bikes and fashion though she didn't notice them pulling up to a restaurant, it seemed like a place for animal sinners.

The snake man happily got out/off his bike and retrieved her safely so they could walk in. Hand in hand,

"What's your name? Mine is Mina.", she asked having not read it from the paper before coming here.

"You can call me Penni, my name isss a bit of a mouthful and really wasss insspired for battle. Thiss isss jussst a nice time out, so I think youd agree keeping in sssimple iss right. Right?"

She softly agreed and internally tried not to laugh at his heavy Sss everytime he got caught on the letter S.

They got a booth together and Mina watched Penni wrap his tail around the tables stand that was bolted like 8 times specifically for this type of thing.

Menus were given and she tried to not get her hopes up on ordering for herself, but he insisted so she ordered some fish and water. Minks loved fish.

He ordered something with rabbit in the title which freaked her out but she quickly remembered theres fush sinners here, shed be a hypocrite judging him, it's not like he ordered mink.

While waiting Penni talked at her about his machinery and how it works and selling some patents for thousands, he was shy but kept talking as she indulged his special interests.

"Are you Autistic Penni?"

He paused his excited chatter to process that and asked,

"What is that? Everyone keeps asking that.."

Now Mina was explaining it and was also getting lost in explaining and filling the air with talking. Needless to say there two autistic people in the room and their currently on a date, er 'date'.

They soon got their food and ate quietly, simply because they ran out of chatter for the moment.

Dinner was done pretty fast and the two happily left to go to Pennis place. She was not told it was a airship. Just a big fuckin airship. She tried to prepare herself to do her thing but was completely shut down on any exciting encounter. Just wrapped in a blanket after he took her jacket so he could cuddle her and watch Voxflix.

It felt nice.

He played with her hair and kissed on her forehead making Mina blush and feel safe, safe enough to sleep..

[shadowzmod]

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

Secret Santa present for @sagethegremlin! (So sorry my ao3 is currently broken; I will post it there too eventually).

Hope you enjoy!

When they were younger, Sonic and Tails were inseparable. They did everything together, and, more than that, they told each other everything. Maybe not in words so much, especially since Sonic didn't talk much when he was very young, but Tails kept up a running commentary on every thought that passed through his head, filling the air with ramblings about new inventions and ideas about building a brighter future that made even the darkest, coldest nights seem alive with possibility.

As they grew older, they distanced themselves a little. Nothing extreme, but just in the way that siblings do when they grow up. Sonic went off on many of his own adventures, and Tails grew more preoccupied with grander and grander inventions. But, still, whenever Sonic was home and hanging around the workshop, Tails would ramble at him about everything and nothing: every single thing he'd done while Sonic was gone, all the new ideas, all the new inventions. He knew Sonic didn't understand half the words, but it didn't matter because his brother was there and listening nonetheless.

Which made it all the more odd that, now, Tails had a secret.

Not that it was anything bad! Of course not. But when Shadow had asked Tails if he could keep his motorcycle in the little side tool shed attached to the workshop, Tails had agreed. And Shadow had asked him to not tell anyone.

So he hadn't.

It made sense, after all. Most of the time, Shadow didn't really have a place to call 'home.' True, Tails knew that he sometimes stayed with Rouge at her apartment, but that would mean parking the bike on the street by the club and when Tails imagined doing something similar with the Tornado, he shuddered at the thought. Just imagining someone else being able to touch his beautiful baby without permission! So letting Shadow store his bike there was totally fine. And for a long time, Tails barely saw him. The black hedgehog would just take his bike and go, without any further interactions.

But then, one day, Tails looked up from welding something to find Shadow standing in the middle of his workshop. The fox nearly fell off his stool, because Shadow hadn't made so much as a whisper of sound when he'd come in, despite his clunky rocket skates and the abundance of parts and tools scattered around the floor.

“Shadow!” Tails pushed up his goggles, “Geez, you scared me!”

Shadow just raised a brow ridge, but didn't say anything.

“Um. Whatcha need?”

“I was wondering if I could borrow a battery tester?” Shadow jerked his head towards the shed, “I think it might be flat.”

Tails ran through his mind how long it had been since Shadow had been in...and yeah that totally checked out.

“Yeah sure I've got one here somewhere...give me a minute.” Tails proceeded to dig through his piles of things, before moving to check three different cabinets where he swore he'd last seen the battery tester, before he finally emerged with it.

“Aha! Here ya go.” Tails handed off the little box and cables to Shadow.

“Thanks.”

Shadow disappeared, and Tails went back to his project, tapping the tip of his finger against his chin as he tried to work out in his head exactly how the mechanics of this would work...

This time, when he looked at his surroundings and Shadow was back, it was much less of a surprise although Tails still felt his heart stop for a second.

“You gotta stop doing that.”

“What?”

“Appearing in the middle of my workshop.”

Shadow looked mildly confused, but just set the battery tester back on the table, “It is dead. You don't happen to have another one lying around do you?”

“Uh...maybe. What kind is it?”

“It's...a Power Sonic AGM.”

Tails almost snorted at the name, but he nodded, “I miiiight. Give me a minute.” He hopped off his stool, and this time headed straight for his back closet, where he kept all kinds of odds and ends and middles that most Mobians could find no possible use for (as well as, you know, everything else that he couldn't fit on the main floor of his workshop).

It took him a good few minutes, but unlike Sonic, who would be zooming around his workshop at top speed by now, Shadow waited patiently (and silently). Which made Tails automatically start talking to fill the silence.

“I know, my workshop's kinda messy—sorry I don't really have anyone else in here except for Sonic, who doesn't really care. I mean have you seen his house? At least my workshop smells like good old-fashioned grease and motor oil, and not dirty socks...oh wait maybe this is it back here...” Tails gave a good tug on the black box he'd found, and a moment later he came tumbling out of the closet, followed by about a dozen things that had apparently been precariously balanced on top of the battery.

“Yep!” He said cheerfully, dusting himself off and wading out of the pile to hand it off to Shadow. Despite the weight, the black hedgehog held it easily in one hand, with a nod, “Thank you.” And then he was gone again.

Tails managed to Tetris everything back into the closet before he heard a soft knock. He turned to see Shadow again, this time leaning in the door.

“Yeah?”

“I'm sorry for the repeated intrusions...”

Tails waved him off, “No problem.”

“But I was wondering if I could work in here? I'd rather not be outside, and there's not really enough space in the shed.”

“Yeah for sure!” Tails waved at the (mostly) empty space near the center of his shop, “Feel free to move whatever you need to.”

Shadow nodded, and a moment later he was carefully wheeling his motorcycle into the shop. Tails had to admire the machine: every time he saw it, it was so obvious how much Shadow loved it. Every surface was polished to a perfect shine, not a hint of grease or dirt on the perfectly detailed paintwork, and just watching Shadow almost tenderly prop it up so that he could work on it—it really did remind Tails of how he was with the Tornado.

With no more words, Shadow got to work, and for a few moments, there was silence save for the sound of wrenches turning. But once again, Tails couldn't help it: now that there was someone here, he felt the need to fill the air with...something.

“Your bike is absolutely gorgeous I gotta say,” Tails peered at a piece of soldering, “I sometimes wish I could ride one, but honestly I'm kinda too busy flying a plane to actually learn. 'Sides, it's not too useful for me, when I'm fast enough to keep pace with Sonic most of the time...but then you are too, so it's not so much about the speed as it is about the style probably.”

Shadow merely grunted, and Tails continued, not even really thinking about his words, “I'm trying to figure out this piece in my head—I was wondering if there was a way to do something cool like mount jet engines on the Tornado to make it faster for water travel especially—but the trouble is that the weight just doesn't ever balance out...”

Tails continued thinking out loud, sketching out whatever he said, and Shadow continued not making much more than an occasional grunt as a comment. But it was funny. This felt...well, this felt a lot like when he and Sonic were younger. Now, Sonic would be adding in comments every bit as fast as Tails said them—he'd still try and listen, but never this quietly and rarely for this long.

It was nice.

When Shadow was finally done, he kicked his motorcycle on and the roar filled the workshop, Tails smiled, and he swore for half a second that, before he peeled out into the yard, Shadow smiled back.

That started a continuing trend. Whenever Shadow was around, he would bring his bike into the shop to do whatever repairs needed done. He rarely spoke more than a few sentences to Tails, but, slowly, he would occasionally start asking questions about Tails' projects, even offering a bit of advice here and there, especially with regard to anything that Tails designed to work in space.

And in return, very, very rarely, he would ask for Tails' help on his bike. It was never more than just a quick opinion about whether this replacement would work, or if he thought that this bolt needed more tightening or a lockwasher, but Tails always felt proud that Shadow, of all people, trusted him enough to value his opinion on such things.

He thought, though, that there was no more to it than valuing his opinion. But apparently it was more than that, as was made evident the day that Tails was surprised to find Shadow and Rouge practically shoving Omega in the open garage door.

“ERROR! ERROR! I AM NOT IN NEED OF MAINTAINANCE: I AM OPERATING AT CRKK BZZZZT NORMAL PERCENT CAPACITY.”

“You sure aren't, darlin'.” Rouge said, before she flapped up to rest on Omega's shoulder as Shadow turned to Tails, who was standing there looking more than a little confused.

“Hello, Tails. I apologize for the intrusion, but I was wondering if you could help me take a look at Omega's analysis module: it seems to be malfunctioning.”

“Uh...yeah, sure. I've looked at a lot of Eggman's bots before—probably have some spare pieces lying around too, if you need any.”

“I DO NOT NEED--”

“Omega, hun, you walked into a wall three times this morning and now I have you-shaped dents all through my drywall. Don't you tell me that you're fine.” Rouge patted the top of his head.

Tails hovered up to the panel on the back of the bot, and began poking and prodding, “You're right, Rouge—it looks like he's got a short in here—nothing serious; we'll have him all fixed up and ready to go real fast.”

Shadow nodded and Rouge smiled, “Thanks sweetie.”

“Shadow, could you grab me that battery tester again? It's on the table over there...” Tails had honestly forgotten that Shadow was every bit as fast as Sonic, and was somewhat surprised when the tool basically appeared in his hand, “Thanks.”

He stuck his head back into the mess of wires and electronics, and a moment later, with a slight sparking noise, Omega whirred.

“REBOOTING. SYSTEM DIAGNOSTICS ONLINE. RUNNING ANALYSIS PROGRAM...25%...50%...75%...SYSTEM OPERATING NORMALLY AT 100%.”

“There ya go hon,” Rouge smiled, “You feel better?”

“I DO NOT. FEEL.”

“Sure ya don't.”

“Thank you Tails,” Shadow nodded, and the fox landed on the floor, rubbing a bit of grease off his hands.

“No problem. And yeah, if you ever need new parts or any tune ups or anything Omega, feel free to stop by.”

“AFFIRMATIVE.”

“We'll make sure he does,” Rouge grinned, “See ya round, sweetie!”

They didn't really much. Team Dark almost instantly got called away to some distant country for a super secret mission, and Tails and the rest of Team Sonic had to battle Eggman practically every day.

But, finally, it was a gorgeous spring afternoon. Tails had driven the Tornado out into the yard after he gave her a new fresh coat of paint to let her dry in the sun, and get some fresh air, when Shadow suddenly appeared, warping into existence a ways down the path. He was carrying something very round in his hands, which he tossed to Tails without saying a word.

Tails nearly dropped it, before realizing what it was: a bright yellow motorcycle helmet.

“What...?”

“Come on.” Shadow was wheeling his motorcycle out, “We're going for a ride.”

“Uh...I've never ridden a motorcycle before, Shadow, I don't know...”

Shadow rolled his eyes, “If you're just riding along, all you have to do is hang on. Now come on; let's go.”

Tails hesitated for about another half second before he buckled on the helmet and climbed up behind Shadow. Fortunately, years of being Sonic's brother had taught him how to hold on to hedgehogs from the back without getting a quill to the face, but when Shadow kicked off, with the rumble of the motor vibrating through his chest, Tails still almost managed to stab himself as he clutched Shadow's middle.

“Don't worry, fox. You won't fall.” Shadow's voice almost sounded like he was laughing, and then they were off.

And...okay yeah, Tails could see why Shadow loved this. It wasn't like running—or flying for that matter. When he was flying, or if Sonic was carrying him, all he felt was the wind. There was no sense of the distance being traveled: it felt like he was just watching a blurry movie. But this? He could feel every bump in the road jostling him, but simultaneously, the power of the machine driving them, the wind in his face--

It was awesome.

Slowly, Tails stopped having a death grip on Shadow's middle and stuck his head out in the wind more, closing his eyes and laughing. And this time, he was absolutely sure that Shadow glanced back and smiled.

…

“So I heard you and Shadow have been hangin' out a bunch?”

Tails nearly spit out his drink at Sonic's casual question, “Uh...yeah.” He hadn't ever mentioned anything about it to his brother still, and now he was wondering if Sonic would be mad about it...

“That's cool. He's pretty chill when he isn't trying to beat me up or take over the world or whatever. And, besides, you two can be all nerdy and geek out about mechanical stuff together.” Sonic reached over the table and ruffled Tails' fur between his ears, “I'm glad you're growing up and making your own friends, bro.”

Tails smiled back, and sipped his drink, and all was right with the world.

[themotorbikechannel]

A BMW G 310 GS turned into an 80's inspired dirtbike - by Vanoni Moto Officina https://themotorbikechannel.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/09/1727071226_maxresdefault.jpg Source: A BMW G 310 GS turned into an 80’s inspired dirtbike – by Vanoni Moto Officina by Bike Shed Motorcycle Club. Please don’t forget to give the Video a “Like” on Youtube and subscribe to the channel! Get your tickets at: https://bikeshedmotoshow.com/?utm_source=youtube&utm_campaign=ep01&utm_id=roadtoshow 26 / 27 / 28th May 2023 – Tobacco Dock, London 80’s […] #310gs #BikeShedMotoCo #bikeshed #bmwg31gs #bmwmotorcycle #bsmc #custommotorcycle #custommotorcycles #devitt #devittinsurance #dirtbike #motorcyclebuild #motorcycleexhaust #motorcyclephotography #motorcycleshow #motorcycles #thebikeshed https://themotorbikechannel.com/a-bmw-g-310-gs-turned-into-an-80s-inspired-dirtbike-by-vanoni-moto-officina/?feed_id=8914&_unique_id=66f1044a98f04

[rosesinvalley]

Bike shed festival london

Le Bike Shed London est l’événement incontournable anglais, à découvrir chaque année.

Il rassemble les plus grandes marques Indian, Triumph, Harley, garages de customisations, passionnés.

Le Bike Shed Motorcycle Club a commencé en novembre 2011 sous la forme d’un blog sur le voyage d’Anthony «Dutch» van Someren en tant que motocycliste sportif moderne dans la «nouvelle vague» de motos personnalisées que tout le monde lisait sur le Web – les coureurs de café, style gosse, scramblers, etc. Il a écrit sur les nouvelles motos et sur  les constructeurs sur la scène, en particulier au Royaume-Uni et en Europe. Le blog a attiré une équipe d’amis et de contributeurs, comprenant à l’origine des fabricants sur mesure Tim & Kev de Spirit of the Seventies, Adam de Untitled Motorcycles et le directeur artistique Barry, de Two Wheels Only & Motorcycle Deluxe. 

Beaucoup plus d’amis se sont joints à nous lorsque, en mai 2013, le blog Bike Shed est passé d’une communauté virtuelle à l’organisation de son premier événement moto informatif; “Une célébration de la scène créative autour de la culture personnalisée de la moto”. Cela a commencé comme une conversation dans un pub.

Le premier spectacle Bike Shed a présenté environ 70 motos sur deux arches à Shoreditch. Il a attiré 3 000 visiteurs – pas seulement pour voir les motos sur mesure, mais aussi pour apprécier l’art, la photographie, les détaillants sélectionnés et la bonne nourriture et l’hospitalité. Il y avait même un salon de coiffure, ajoutant au sens du style de vie et du théâtre. Depuis l’événement attire les marques et un monde incroyable durant 3 jours au Tobacco Dock.

[barrykrichmond]

Harley Davidsons Made: A Journey Through Time and Innovation

Harley Davidsons Made, an iconic name in the world of motorcycles, is synonymous with freedom, rebellion, and the open road. Since its inception in the early 20th century, Harley-Davidson has grown from a small, garage-built operation into a global brand.

This article explores the rich history, technological advancements, and cultural impact of Harley-Davidson motorcycles, tracing their evolution from humble beginnings to the powerful machines we see today.

The Early Years: The Birth of an Icon

Harley-Davidson was founded in 1903 by William S. Harley and Arthur Davidson in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. What started as a small project in a wooden shed quickly grew into a pioneering force in the motorcycle industry.

The first Harley-Davidson motorcycle was a modest 116cc single-cylinder engine bike, designed for personal use. However, its success prompted the duo to expand, and by 1906, they had opened their first factory.

The 1910s: War and Innovation

The 1910s were a transformative decade for Harley-Davidson. The company began producing motorcycles for the military during World War I, supplying over 20,000 bikes to the U.S. armed forces. This period also saw significant technological innovations, including the introduction of the famous V-twin engine in 1911.

The V-twin engine became a hallmark of Harley-Davidson motorcycles, offering more power and a distinctive sound that would become synonymous with the brand.

The 1920s-1930s: Surviving the Great Depression

The 1920s brought prosperity to Harley-Davidson, with the company becoming the largest motorcycle manufacturer in the world by 1920. However, the Great Depression of the 1930s presented significant challenges.

Despite the economic downturn, Harley-Davidson survived by diversifying its product line, including producing bikes for the police and military. The introduction of the EL model in 1936, with its overhead valve engine, marked a significant advancement in motorcycle technology.

The 1940s-1950s: Post-War Boom and Cultural Influence

World War II once again saw Harley-Davidson supplying motorcycles to the military, with over 90,000 units produced during the war. The post-war era was a time of growth and cultural influence for the company.

The rise of motorcycle clubs and the portrayal of Harley-Davidson bikes in films like The Wild One (1953) cemented the brand's association with rebellion and freedom. The introduction of the Hydra-Glide in 1949, with its hydraulic telescopic forks, was a significant innovation, offering riders a smoother and more comfortable ride.

The 1960s-1970s: Facing Challenges and Rebuilding

The 1960s and 1970s were challenging decades for Harley-Davidson. The company faced increased competition from Japanese manufacturers and experienced quality control issues. In 1969, Harley-Davidson merged with the American Machine and Foundry Company (AMF), a move that was initially seen as a lifeline but led to further quality issues and declining sales.

However, the spirit of Harley-Davidson endured. The company was bought back by a group of investors in 1981, leading to a renewed focus on quality and innovation. The introduction of the Evolution engine in 1984 marked a turning point, providing improved performance and reliability.

The 1980s-Present: A Modern Renaissance

The 1980s and 1990s saw Harley-Davidson reinvent itself, focusing on its heritage while embracing modern technology. The brand's resurgence was marked by the introduction of the Softail model in 1984 and the Fat Boy in 1990, both of which became instant classics. Harley-Davidson also expanded its product line to include touring bikes, cruisers, and custom models, catering to a diverse range of riders.

In the 21st century, Harley-Davidson has continued to innovate, with a focus on sustainability and electric motorcycles. The introduction of the LiveWire, an all-electric model, in 2019, signaled Harley-Davidson's commitment to the future while staying true to its roots. Today, the company remains a symbol of American craftsmanship and innovation, with a loyal following around the world.

Conclusion

Harley-Davidson's journey from a small shed in Milwaukee to a global icon is a testament to the brand's enduring appeal and ability to adapt to changing times. With a rich history of innovation, cultural influence, and a commitment to quality, Harley-Davidson continues to inspire riders and enthusiasts alike.

Whether you're drawn to the roar of the V-twin engine, the thrill of the open road, or the legacy of American craftsmanship, Harley-Davidson represents more than just a motorcycle—it's a way of life.

[legacymuses]

𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 "𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄" 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑; 𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳; 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘺𝘤𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘺

𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘚 𝘉𝘓𝘖𝘎 𝘋𝘖𝘌𝘚 𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘊𝘖𝘕𝘋𝘖𝘕𝘌/𝘈𝘎𝘙𝘌𝘌 𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘈𝘊𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘚 𝘖𝘍 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘔𝘜𝘚𝘌𝘚.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎:

name: oliver "ollie" carter

age: 24-33

gender: cis male ( he/him )

sexuality: bisexual

occupation: motorcycle technician

faceclaim: daniel sharman

location: parramatta, australia / california, usa.

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘

triggers/warnings: drugs, general gang related behaviour, group home

oliver carter was put into the system the day he was born. a year or two here there and everywhere, bags permanently packed and never too heavy. by age six he had a routine, practically terrorising whoever was stupid enough to take him in. the guilt was quick to fade once he realised just how little they cared, the lack of effort and instant frustration with him just caused him to pull further away. by fourteen they'd basically given up, tossing him in a group home almost entirely filled with boys much older than he was. it was there that ollie learned to fend for himself… and became a light sleeper. he reunited with a young man who taught him everything he needed to know in a previous home. someone who would protect him above all else ( and end up losing a finger doing it.) that was one reason it stung so bad when he was sent to juvenile and ollie was once again completely alone.  by sixteen he found himself faced with a deadline, in two more years he'd be out on his own and he hadn't even begun to think about money. he had to get on his feet, and fast. at first he started doing favours for people here and there, making deliveries on his bike after school for whoever wanted to pay the fee. but this didn’t go unnoticed. eventually he was approached by some older boys and his small mail business turned into low level drug deliveries for the club. as long as he didn't ask questions, the baby faced teen was perfect for not arousing suspicion. after all, who would think to check a kid's bike basket out in the suburbs?  at eighteen he gained his freedom, that shiny proof of age card turning into his ticket out. with all the money he’d saved over the last two years, he bought a ticket to california and signed up for school. he believed all the struggle was worth it in the end, the day he got his technician license was the best day of his life. if there was one thing he desperately wanted... it was to never get stuck in another illegal job again.  the mechanic shop paid well enough to get him off of friends couches and into a small apartment, and for a total of three months things seemed to be perfect. he loved it there. the heat, the people, the hallucinogens... until the night he crashed through the shed door while on mushrooms. with blurry vision and bright lights in his eyes, he wasn’t sure what he was looking at for a while. but sure enough… patches and plants and guns pointed right at him.   the mechanic was a front. nothing more than a way to launder money for the real business that went on out back. every person he knew and cared for was in on it… he was the last to know. faced with the choice to initiate or run as far as he had the first time, ollie picks the easy option. if the universe wanted him in a gang so damn badly who was he to fight it? it felt like a sick joke. the moment he started muttering about being cursed was the day they pushed him into desk duty, telling him to rotate between the customers and the bikes. at least it kept him from staring through them like they'd betrayed him. maybe they had. maybe there was no coming back from where he'd ended up.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒:

superstitious, genuinely believes he's cursed

believes magic mushrooms are the key to unlocking some kind of peace

big techie, will talk your ear off about mods

𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯…

𝘱𝘭𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹

[sbknews]

#WeRideAsOne: a spectacular second edition comes to an end

The second edition of #WeRideAsOne was successfully held on Saturday 6 May; the widespread global event organized by Ducati, which on the same day allows enthusiasts from all over the world to celebrate together their passion for two wheels and for the Bologna-based brand. Also this year, 334 Ducati dealerships, together with 159 international Ducati Official Clubs spread across all five continents, created and put together the event's winning formula, personalising each route and transforming their localities into exclusive settings for the day. The second edition of #WeRideAsOne involved 15,000 Ducatisti from more than 50 countries all over the world  on the saddle of their Ducati and Scrambler Ducati bikes. The heart of the event was the parade which again this year saw the Red bikes of Borgo Panigale animate and colour the most evocative streets of the main cities: Paris, New York, Cologne, Puebla, Mumbai, Brussels, Ningbo, Pretoria, Tel Aviv, Bogotá, Berlin are just some of the places that provided this moment of true entertainment. Francesco Milicia, VP Global Sales and After Sales Ducati: "#WeRideAsOne is an event that well represents Ducati and its mission to create unforgettable experiences for all enthusiasts. On occasions like these, there is an incredible atmosphere that conveys a sense of belonging to one big family comprising all Ducatisti, Ducati Official Clubs, dealerships and Company employees. Seeing thousands of Ducati motorcycles parading together through major cities around the world is a unique emotion that fills us with pride. I had the pleasure of riding through the beautiful streets of Rome in the company of the MotoGP rider Fabio Di Giannantonio, together with the colleagues of Ducati Roma, who celebrated 10 years in business, and a lot of enthusiasts." In London, the procession headed out from the Ducati store through the heart of London passing iconic landmarks including Trafalgar Square, Westminster Bridge, Big Ben and the London Eye, crossing the River Thames once more via Tower Bridge before finishing at The Bike Shed for refreshments.

Alongside Ducati UK employees, Ducati Aylesbury led the procession through the roads of Buckinghamshire and Northamptonshire to visit the iconic Silverstone Circuit, stopping for refreshments at Ducati’s UK Silverstone headquarters, situated adjacent to the Luffield corner. On its official Instagram channel , Ducati reported the various events around the world in real-time, sharing videos and images of the day in Instagram Stories. All content remains visible on the Ducati channel in the #WeRideAsOne highlights. #WeRideAsOne is a one-of-a-kind format that stems from the desire to offer the Ducatista community an unrepeatable experience of fun and sharing on the saddle of their bike. To keep alive the passion and the ties that bind all Ducatisti around the world, the motorcycle manufacturer has decided to add #WeRideAsOne to the calendar as a fixed annual event to take place every first Saturday in May. #WeRideAsOne #WeAreDucati For more Ducati news check out our dedicated page Ducati UK News or head to the official Ducati UK website ducati.com/gb/en/home

Read the full article

[fuckyeahtravelphotos]

Shop window, Bike Shed Motorcycle Club, London

[dwarvenaesthetic]

Dan Burton 

This shot was taken at a custom motorcycle show in London in May 2018. Although this Triumph Scrambler was surrounded by some show-stopping creations, the simplicity and classic styling of this motorcycle is what really caught my eye (or was it that strikingly beautiful blue tank with perfect pin striping). Hats off to the team at The Bike Shed Motorcycle Club in Shoreditch, London for putting such a great show together.

London, United Kingdom

Free to use under the Unsplash License

Buy us a round!

[darcy-doll]

another customer.

He walked into the main office with a sense of purpose and saw a blonde woman behind the counter. It wasn’t the blonde he was looking for, yet he knew exactly who she was.

She looked up with a pleasant smile. Her gold name tag shined as she turned to face him. Ramona, it said, in big block letters.

“Welcome to the Merry Motel. Need a room?” Ramona asked. Her hand hovered over the computer mouse, waiting for his response.

She didn’t know who he was. He shed his kutte and bike, opting to take his truck instead. She never met him before. Her sights were focused on Desmond most of the time anyway. In fact, he doubted she would recognize anyone from the club if they weren’t sporting patches.

“Yes,” he said with a nod before he carefully leaned over the counter and gave her a look, “How much for special service?”

Ramona’s grin only widened as her eyes turned to her computer and she typed something in. Her hand moved the computer mouse this way and that, and she looked satisfied when she was done. Turning around, she grabbed a room key off the set of hooks behind her and handed it to him. “Depends on what you’re looking for. We offer a variety.”

“Any blondes?” he asked as his fingers curved around his room key.

Ramona nodded. “We have a blonde readily available. She’ll be down to your room shortly. Let me know if you have any questions or concerns, and enjoy your stay.”

He left the main office and walked down the row of rooms. Room 8 was his assigned room and he unlocked the door and stepped inside. Immediately, he drew the curtains, closed the blinds, and dimmed all the lights.

Then he waited.

The whole plan wouldn’t have been in motion if he didn’t get into an argument with his girlfriend a few days ago. It was bad, one of the worst ones yet. He and his girlfriend got into it. It was so heated that Desmond told them to take it outside. He did one better. He hopped on his bike and went for a ride.

He must’ve drove farther than he thought because he saw her. She was walking along the perimeter of the motel, and her blonde hair and petite figure were unmistakable. He knew it was her. She had looked up at the sound of the motorcycle, almost hopeful, but he had disappeared down the next road before she saw who it was. When he doubled back, just to make sure, she was gone. He had pulled over and called his vice president, and since then, he not only conducted a few stakeouts to make sure it was her, but he also put this very plan in motion.

He paced around the room slowly, eyeing his watch every few seconds. He was as calm as can be, and it was almost scary, given the circumstances. Still, it was all part of the plan.

There was a knock at his door. Inhaling deeply, he realized this was the moment of truth. Pulling the door open, he came face to face with her.

She took a step back in surprise. “Oh my god, Walker.”

He reached out, grabbing her by the wrist and yanking her inside before she had a chance to say anything else. Shutting and locking the door for good measure, Walker turned around and faced her. He stared at her, taking her in. What the hell happened to her?

“Darcy,” he whispered in shock. He knew he saw her a few days ago but not up close. And now that he was looking at her, anger and hatred boiled inside him.

Darcy had deep bruises around her neck, shaped like a handprint, like someone choked the ever living shit out of her. There was a fresh abrasion against her cheek, probably from a slap to the face. She looked like she lost weight, which was unsettling given how petite she already was. Whatever part of her body that wasn’t covered in clothing was covered in something else. There were scratches, bruises, and… damn, cigarette burns too.

Walker wanted to maim whoever did this to her. Desmond though… he was sure Desmond would slaughter them. With that thought, Walker was debating if Desmond should even see her like this. Surely there must be a way to hide her until she was all healed up, right?

“What… what happened–?” He had no idea how to begin this line of questioning. How she was still standing in one piece amazed him.

“I’m protecting the people I love,” Darcy told him. She seemed so relieved at seeing a familiar face. There was almost a light in her eyes but a depressing darkness overshadowed it.

Walker blinked, trying to process what to say. She made the dumbest decision in the entire fucking world, and this was what it cost her. He was there when Desmond got the phone call. He was there when Darcy said she was leaving, that she had to go with her sister in order to protect Desmond and Legend. By the time Walker got to the motel, she was gone. Not a single trace left of her, except the burner phone she intentionally left behind. After days, weeks even, of searching and staking the place out, here she was. 

Walker pulled out his phone and sent a quick message to Desmond, letting his vice president know that Darcy was okay. Well… as much as she could be anyway, but he wasn’t going to go into details over the phone.

Then he dialed a number.

“Who are you calling?” Darcy asked, suddenly looking alarmed and panicked, “You can’t tell anyone I’m here. You were never here.”

“Shut up,” Walker mumbled toward her just as the person on the other line picked up. “No, not you,” he spoke into the phone. “I found her. Wanna talk to her?”

In half a second, Walker handed the phone to Darcy. The blonde took it, almost afraid of who was on the other line, but she answered anyway. “Hello?”

“Darcy Sarah Merritt,” the voice on the other line spoke sternly, “how fucking dare you.”

Darcy sank onto the bed, and Walker watched her carefully. He felt like even the slightest breeze would cause her to fall over, so he kept an arm out just in case.

“Hi Winnie.”

“I swear to god, when I see you, I’m gonna kick your ass. Are you okay?” Winnie’s voice was angry but also laced with concern and worry. Just hearing her voice like that made Darcy tear up.

“I’m fine,” Darcy said. Her eyes glanced up at Walker, who mouthed to her, like hell you are. She ignored him, pulling her eyes away and staring at the ugly printed carpet. “How are you?”

“You’re kidding, right? I’ve been a wreck. What the hell were you thinking?” Winnie almost shouted.

Darcy just wanted to be swallowed up by the bed at that point. She hated disappointing people, and she absolutely didn’t like hurting anyone. She thought she was doing the right thing. Her heart was in the right place.

“I, um. Well,” she didn’t even know where to begin.

“Look, Darce. How many times do we need to tell you? Let us protect you.”

“No, Win. No. You don’t get it.”

“I get it plenty. Sweetie, you have a whole gang over here who will fight your battles for you, and you know your man will be front and center. You didn’t need to do this.”

Darcy inhaled, trying not to choke on the sobs that were blooming in the back of her throat.

“Ramona threatened–”

“The club gets threatened all the time. You think they’d be fazed by this?” Winnie’s voice rang in Darcy’s ear, and Darcy desperately wanted her to stop talking. She really didn’t get it.

“God, Win.” Darcy stood up, shifting the phone to her other ear. Walker eyed her, staying close by just in case. “That’s not what this is about.”

“Then come home and let’s talk about it, Darce.”

“I can’t.”

“I hate to break it to you, but why do you think Walk is there?”

“He’s leaving.”

It was at that moment when Walker snatched the phone out of Darcy’s grip. He gave her a look, almost menacing, that made her cower in her place and pull her eyes away from him. Instinctively, a hand went to her blonde hair, curling it around her finger as she awaited whatever punishment Walker was going to dish out.

“Hey Win,” Walker said on the phone while looking at Darcy, “Yeah. I told her. Tell Des it’s definitely her. You’ll see her soon. Yes, Win. Okay. Okay, Win. Love you too.”

He hung up and pocketed his phone. His eyes never wavered from the petite blonde in front of him. Darcy tried to look menacing too, but she knew it was coming across as pathetic. With her looking like she was, in the state that she was in, it was clear she couldn’t look threatening. Hell, her tiny frame made it almost impossible for her to look even slightly scary.

“I’m not going back,” Darcy said.

“Oh yes you are.” Walker stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans, staring her down. “I’ll force you into my truck, Darcy. You’re going back.”

“Why? Why do you care so much? I’m doing this for you, all of you.” She wasn’t backing down, and it was becoming bothersome.

“I swear to god, if I had my gun on me right now…”

“You’ll what? Shoot me? Wouldn’t be the first time someone hurt me enough to draw blood.”

The words stung and he had to take a step back. While it was a low blow, he also recognized the truth in her words. He couldn’t imagine what kind of hell she went through, what her sister forced her to go through, and he didn’t want to think about it. This was what she decided to do for the club? For Desmond? He couldn’t help but admire that, despite how flawed it was.

“I’m getting you out of here,” Walker told her. He walked past her and glanced out of the peephole on the door. It was a split second action, like he had done this a million times.

“I can’t leave,” Darcy tried to reason. He heard it in her voice. She sounded so full of desperation, like she had no other choice.

He was in front of her quickly, his hands gripping her arms in a tight lock. “You have two options here. Either you leave with me, or you leave with Des. And I guarantee, if I call my VP and have him come get you, it will not be pretty.”

“I can handle myself.”

“It’s not you I’d be worried about.”

Her light brown eyes widened in shock, fear breaking through for a moment. Darcy lost one sister already, and the thought of losing the other was clearly getting to her. He knew very little of her story. Desmond and Winnie knew the most, and he only knew what he was told, which wasn’t a lot. He knew about the past motel business, and he knew about Maeve. Darcy didn’t know what specifically happened to Maeve like he did, but still. Ramona was the last sister still standing for her. She had no other blood-related family.

Yet she still walked away from the Morrises, her new family, the better family.

“Make a choice, Darcy. I’m fine either way.” Walker sat down on the bed and stretched out as he stared at her. He inhaled deeply, shifting his weight against the bed. But his relaxation came to a screeching halt when there was a knock at his door.

“Shit,” Darcy mumbled to herself. She pulled off her shirt, and walked over to the door wearing black leggings with a black bra. Turning to face Walker, she motioned to him. “Quick, undo your pants.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Shut up and do it.”

Walker shed his jeans and was sprawled back on the bed. God, if anyone from the club could see him right now, he’d be dead. Darcy opened the door and leaned against the frame. Ramona stood there, looking pleased at the sight in the room.

“Everything meeting your expectations?” Ramona asked as she looked past the door frame to Walker, who was seductively lying on the bed with a slight frown.

He stood up, his frown melting into confusion as he put on the same role as before. “Why are you here?”

Ramona seemed taken aback by the question, and she stumbled over her answer. “Just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

Walker pulled himself off the bed and grabbed his pants from the floor, shuffling them back on as if he didn’t just take them off. “You always disturb paying customers with a check in?” He looked angry as he grabbed Darcy by the arm and pulled her into the room, away from Ramona.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Ramona said, looking guilty. “Just wanted to make sure–”

Walker slammed the door in her face, locking it with a loud click. He turned back to Darcy, who was already putting her shirt back on. “What the hell, Darce.”

“She does that sometimes. She checks up on me and makes sure I am actually performing the services people pay for,” Darcy answered nonchalantly, like it was an everyday thing. God, Walker wanted to so badly show her it wasn’t.

“You’re joking.” Walker made a mental note to tell Desmond about this too. Man, the things he had to tell his vice president from just this one evening was racking up.

“No,” Darcy shook her head.

“What happens if you don’t perform your required duties?” Walker asked, hating the question as soon as it left his mouth. Darcy wasn’t supposed to be doing this. She should be back home, with her friends, with her family, where she belonged. None of this was normal.

Darcy pointed to the crude red mark on her face, the fresh abrasion that Walker noticed right away when he first saw her. Putting two and two together, he realized Ramona had slapped, or possibly punched, Darcy in the face before she knocked on his door. Suddenly, a wave of guilt washed over him, and he couldn’t help but think he was responsible for that injury.

Glancing out of the door peephole, Walker noticed Ramona was no longer in sight. But clearly she was watching from somewhere. He let out a sigh and turned back to face the petite blonde before him. “We’re not leaving for a while. Your sister has eyes on us. How about you get some sleep for a little bit? I’ll keep watch.”

Darcy shook her head, clearly wanting to protest, but Walker cut her off. “I doubt you’re even sleeping these days. A small nap, okay? I paid for the night, so you don’t have to worry about other customers. Plus, it’ll make me feel better.”

It was her turn to let out a sigh, knowing it was futile to say anything. She walked over to the bed and laid down, but said nothing. As she drifted off, Walker kept his promise. He watched over her while keeping an eye on the door and window, should any other visitors pop up. Once it was well past dark with nothing but the moon lighting their way, he’ll wake her up and they’ll make a plan to leave, whether Darcy liked it or not.

[workerrolli]

V twin magazine yellow sportster chopper

With the new facilities, production increased to 150 motorcycles in 1907. That year, they expanded the factory with a second floor and later with facings and additions of Milwaukee pale yellow ("cream") brick. Harley graduated from the University of Wisconsin–Madison with a degree in mechanical engineering. The company produced about 50 motorcycles that year. The first Juneau Avenue plant was a 40 ft × 60 ft (12 m × 18 m) single-story wooden structure. In 1906, Harley and the Davidson brothers built their first factory on Chestnut Street (later Juneau Avenue), at the current location of Harley-Davidson's corporate headquarters. Years later, the company moved the original shed to the Juneau Avenue factory where it stood for many decades as a tribute. Lang of Chicago sold three bikes from the five built in the Davidson backyard shed. That year, Harley-Davidson dealer Carl H. By April, they were producing complete motorcycles on a very limited basis. In January 1905, the company placed small advertisements in the Automobile and Cycle Trade Journal offering bare Harley-Davidson engines to the do-it-yourself trade. Edward Hildebrand rode it and placed fourth in the race. This prototype machine was functional by September 8, 1904, when it competed in a Milwaukee motorcycle race held at State Fair Park. Most of the major parts, however, were made elsewhere, including some probably fabricated at the West Milwaukee railshops where oldest brother William A. The prototype of the new loop-frame Harley-Davidson was assembled in a 10 ft × 15 ft (3.0 m × 4.6 m) shed in the Davidson family backyard. They also received help with their bigger engine from outboard motor pioneer Ole Evinrude, who was then building gas engines of his own design for automotive use on Milwaukee's Lake Street. The bigger engine and loop-frame design took it out of the motorized bicycle category and marked the path to future motorcycle designs. Its advanced loop-frame pattern was similar to the 1903 Milwaukee Merkel motorcycle designed by Joseph Merkel, later of Flying Merkel fame. The three began work on a new and improved machine with an engine of 24.74 cubic inches (405 cc) with 9.75 in (24.8 cm) flywheels weighing 28 lb (13 kg). Upon testing their power-cycle, Harley and the Davidson brothers found it unable to climb the hills around Milwaukee without pedal assistance, and they wrote off their first motor-bicycle as a valuable learning experiment. It was finished in 1903 with the help of Arthur's brother Walter Davidson. Over the next two years, he and his childhood friend Arthur Davidson worked on their motor-bicycle using the northside Milwaukee machine shop at the home of their friend Henry Melk. Harley drew up plans for a small engine with a displacement of 7.07 cubic inches (116 cc) and four-inch (102 mm) flywheels designed for use in a regular pedal-bicycle frame. Davidson, Walter Davidson Sr., Arthur Davidson and William S. 1.12 Problems with Police Touring modelsįrom left: William A.1.11 Claims of stock price manipulation.1.8 Fat Boy, Dyna, and Harley-Davidson museum.1.5 Small: Hummer, Sportcycle and Aermacchi.The company markets its products worldwide, and also licenses and markets merchandise under the Harley-Davidson brand, among them apparel, home décor and ornaments, accessories, toys, scale models of its motorcycles, and video games based on its motorcycle line and the community. Harley-Davidson manufactures its motorcycles at factories in York, Pennsylvania Milwaukee, Wisconsin Manaus, Brazil Bawal, India and Pluak Daeng, Thailand. The company traditionally marketed heavyweight, air-cooled cruiser motorcycles with engine displacements greater than 700 cc, but it has broadened its offerings to include more contemporary VRSC (2002) and middle-weight Street (2015) platforms. Harley-Davidson is noted for a style of customization that gave rise to the chopper motorcycle style. There are owner clubs and events worldwide, as well as a company-sponsored, brand-focused museum. The company has survived numerous ownership arrangements, subsidiary arrangements, periods of poor economic health and product quality, and intense global competition to become one of the world's largest motorcycle manufacturers and an iconic brand widely known for its loyal following. Founded in 1903, it is one of two major American motorcycle manufacturers to survive the Great Depression along with its historical rival, Indian Motorcycles. ( H-D, or simply Harley) is an American motorcycle manufacturer headquartered in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, United States.

[ridingyoursoul1976mrg]

The Sofas, The room, The brick walls, the Shop, the Souls to be observed..