#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.

[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]

Matchless Desert Sled - by Toolbox Lifestyle https://themotorbikechannel.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/1728586826_maxresdefault.jpg Source: Matchless Desert Sled – by Toolbox Lifestyle by Bike Shed Motorcycle Club. Please don’t forget to give the Video a “Like” on Youtube and subscribe to the channel! Dubbed the “Shed Sled” this perfectly patinaed ’61 Matchless Typhoon replica stole hearts at the 2024 Bike Shed Moto Show, and has recently come to stay […] #bikeshed #custommotorcycles #motorcycles #thebikeshed https://themotorbikechannel.com/matchless-desert-sled-by-toolbox-lifestyle/?feed_id=13063&_unique_id=670824757c574

[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!

[ridingyoursoul1976mrg]

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

[drabbles-mc]

Fight Night

EZ Reyes & Angel Reyes & Sister!OFC (Mariella Reyes)

Request by @cherieann-2001: 43 for the kiss prompt with Angel/EZ and baby sister Reyes who stands a cute 5 ft 3! (Prompt is from This List)

Warnings: language, alcohol, Angel being a sore loser

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: For whatever reason, this request made me remember This Fic that I wrote forever ago where I actually drafted up an OC to be a younger Reyes sibling. The two stories aren’t related at all but I just thought that would be a fun fact lol. Hope you enjoy!

Angel/EZ Taglist: @helli4nthus​ @starrynite7114​ @queenbeered​ @sincerelyasomebody​ @sadeyesgf​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @appropriate-writers-name​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​ @kelpies-shed​ @beardburnsupersoldiers​ @louisianalady​ @gemini0410​ @paintballkid711​ @chibsytelford​ @yourwonkywriter​ @sesamepancakes​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @plentyoffandoms​ @georgiaaintnopeach​ @twistnet​ @themoonandthewicked​ @garbinge​ @bucky-iss-bae​ @enjoy-the-destruction​ @withmyteeth​ @encounterthepast​ @lilacyennefer​ @rosieposie0624​ @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​ @mijop​ @xladymacbethx​ @blessedboo​ @holl2712​ @lakamaa12​ @luckyharley1903​ @masterlistforimagines​ @kkim120​ @toni9​ @shadow-of-wonder​ @black-repunzel99​ @crowfootwrites​ @redpoodlern​ @punkgoddess-98​ @lexondeck​ @mrsstevenbuchananstark​ @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo​ @amorestevens​ @angelreyesisdaddy04​ @mijagif​ @frattsparty​ @winchestershiresauce​ @bellisperennis0​ @mveggieburger​ @thanossexual​ @xeniarocks​ @choochoo284​ @littlekittymeow​ @beardsanddetectives​ @ly--canthrope​ @noz4a2​ 

The silence of her street was disrupted by the roar of motorcycles. A smile broke out across her face as she sat on the couch, waiting for when her two brothers would come crashing into her house like a couple of frat boys. It had been a while since they had some time with just the three of them, and she was glad that they caught enough of a break to come over for dinner and to watch the fights. She’d contemplated making a club-wide invite, but the more she thought about it, the more she really just wanted some time with just the three Reyes siblings.

The clamor of bikes went from nearly deafening, to nonexistent as they cut their engines. Mere moments later, the door swung open and Angel came striding through making a ruckus upon entry as usual. EZ was a couple steps behind him, laughing and shaking his head as his brother’s antics.

“Let’s fuckin’ go!” Angel strode into her living room.

Mariella laughed, shaking her head at him from her spot on the couch, “I think you’re more ready than any of these guys are,” she gestured towards the television.

“Psh, nah,” Angel shook his head as he collapsed on the couch next to her, “My boy AJ has got this in the bag. No doubt.”

“He can’t hear you, you know,” EZ chuckled as he kicked off his boots and wandered into the kitchen, “you don’t gotta back him up if you don’t mean it.”

Mariella watched at how differently her two brothers handled themselves. She’d always been a bit more like EZ than Angel, on the quieter side, always more of an observer. But all three of them had very similar senses of humor which made for an extremely fun time when they all got together. She could see it in Angel’s eyes that he was about to turn the conversation into a shit-talking match. And, as much as she loved sitting back and watching those happen, she also didn’t want it getting too out of hand before the fight even started.

“Can I help you find something over there, EZ?” she asked with a laugh as she watched her brother poke around the stove, being nosey as to what she’d pulled together.

“Just checking to see if I should call and get something delivered or not,” there was a smirk on his face.

Rolling her eyes she stood up off the couch and went over to him, playfully shoving him away from the stove, “Never once have you complained about my cooking,” she tapped the side of his head, “Play back the tapes—you know I’m right,” she turned and looked over at Angel, who was texting someone on his phone, “You on the other hand.”

He looked up, eyebrows raised, “What? I don’t complain.”

Both Mariella and EZ laughed, and shook their heads. She started pulling plates down out of the cupboard, “You definitely do. Which is fucking ironic considering how you can’t boil water without burning the house down.”

He flopped back onto the couch, hand over his heart in a dramatic display of pain, “That hurts, Mari. That fuckin’ hurts.”

“Here,” she walked over and handed him a plate full of food, “this should dull the pain a bit.”

He sat up, eagerly accepting the plate but still trying to play it cool, “I’ll be the judge of that.”

The main event was about halfway through, and Angel and EZ had been relentless. Mariella had sat back, thoroughly enjoying listening to the two of them. Truthfully, it was better than listening to the actual commentators of the fight. She drank her way through another beer, setting the empty bottle onto the table with the others.

For whatever reason, despite the fact that Mari and EZ had both put their empty plates on the coffee table with everything else, Angel’s was still resting in his lap. Every time he waved his arms around, or went to jump up off the couch and stand up, he’d have to fumble and catch it before it fell to the ground. A couple times she tried to get it from him, and was met with him swatting her away saying that he was going to go back for more after the next round was over. It never happened, of course, and the balancing act continued. Mari chuckled, shaking her head at herself just as much as him—she always told herself that she should start using paper plates whenever they came over.

Somehow, they made it through the twelve rounds of the fight and no one accidentally broke any plates or spilled any beer. There were a couple close calls, and Mariella made sure to remind her siblings that any stains on her carpet or couch would have to be taken care of, or paid for, by them. It was just enough of a threat to keep them cautious.

“Pay up!” Mariella held her hand out to her brother, “Told you he wasn’t gonna pull this off.”

“Wait,” EZ looked back and forth between his brother and sister, “you guys had money riding on this?” he turned to Angel, “You said you weren’t betting this.”

“Yea,” he dug his wallet out of his pocket, pulling out a few bills for his sister, “not with you.”

“He thought it’d be an easy bet to win against me,” Mariella chuckled as she swiped the bills from him, “Sucker.”

“Bro,” EZ shook his head with a smile, “You’ve never won a sport’s bet against her. Ever.”

“Figured tonight would finally be my night,” Angel shook his head as he shoved his wallet away, “Apparently not.”

“Here,” Mariella took one of the bills and handed it over to EZ.

Both the Reyes boys looked at her with confusion on their faces. EZ took the money hesitantly, “What’s this for?”

“Compensation for all the ranting and bitterness you’re gonna have to listen to when you guys leave. Plus, you called the fight same as me,” she laughed as she tucked the money into the back pocket of her jeans.

“Can’t believe you bet behind my back,” EZ shook his head at Angel, “I expected that from her, but you?”

“Just out here tryna make a buck, Boy Scout,” Angel replied with a shrug.

“And yet,” EZ flashed the money in front of his brother’s face, “you’re the only one who didn’t make any.”

Angel shook his head slightly, “I’ll snatch that money right outta your fuckin’ hands, EZ.”

“Only if you’re quick enough,” EZ joked as he tucked the money into his pocket.

As EZ and Angel got ready to head out for the night, Mariella couldn’t help but to stand back and listen to the two of them bicker and joke with each other. Things had been stressful for them lately, and she knew that free time for them was difficult to come by, but she enjoyed having them over when they had the time.

“I’ll bring leftovers to the clubhouse tomorrow,” she leaned against the doorframe as they made their way out onto her front steps, “Since neither of you have smartened up and learned to bring the truck.”

“Pops only lends it to you all the time, you know,” Angel replied with a shake of his head.

“Actually, I think you’re the only one he doesn’t lend it to,” she laughed and gestured to EZ, “I see him cruising around all the time.”

“Fuck both you guys,” Angel laughed as he pulled her into a hug, squeezing her a little tighter than necessary before kissing the top of her head, “Love you, Mari. Talk to you tomorrow.”

She laughed, nodding as he made his way down the steps, “Love you too.”

“Thanks for dinner,” EZ kissed right where her hairline met her forehead, “Love you.”

“Love you too,” she gave him a playful nudge towards his bike, “I’ll let you get the good bets next time.”

He turned around and smiled, “You better!”

[themotorbikechannel]

A Motorcycle for the Movies - Royal Enfield x Netflix 'The Kitchen' https://themotorbikechannel.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/1728039627_maxresdefault.jpg Source: A Motorcycle for the Movies – Royal Enfield x Netflix ‘The Kitchen’ by Bike Shed Motorcycle Club. Please don’t forget to give the Video a “Like” on Youtube and subscribe to the channel! As part of the 2024 Bike Shed Moto Show “Shed Talks” series, we sat down with Adrian Sellers (Head of Custom […] #bikeshed #custommotorcycles #motorcycles #thebikeshed https://themotorbikechannel.com/a-motorcycle-for-the-movies-royal-enfield-x-netflix-the-kitchen/?feed_id=11799&_unique_id=66ffcb318e7cf