#enduro life

[motocrunch]

Photo credit: Jason Lau

[gentlemanmotorslifestyle]

[dissolveyourfilter]

spent a week training for enduro, had a beautiful and colorful time in the desert on a solo camping roadtrip. 18-25 mile daily average ride, found a safe quiet little spot to setup a base camp and came back for sunset every night to cook good food and relax by the fire.

[rafakrek]

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[erkmurray]

Moto camp

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[1986vintage]

[davidefrancavillaz]

[umathurwin]

i love how outer banks introduced a baby villain who’s handsome, charming, talented, secretly sensitive and kind, and rich and thought “fuck he’s too likeable. nerf him again”

[obxsummer]

P4L // JJ Maybank

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: aka the season 4 ending the audience and pogues deserved.

warnings: S4P2 SPOILERS

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--

Morocco was proving to be one hell of a challenge for all of you. Every corner had more of your friends pulling off to play defense or act as a distraction. Pope, Kiara, and Cleo had left in an attempt to hold off the mercenary crew, leaving you, JJ, and Rafe to finish the mission and find the crown.

With Rafe out on the option to climb, JJ had volunteered which left you all in the current situation. JJ was trying to pull himself up on the stone statue as wind and sand whipped at your faces. 

“Be careful!” You yelled up to him, hoping your voice wouldn’t get carried away before it reached him.

You’d been so heartbroken for JJ over the past few weeks - from losing Poguelandia, finding out Luke wasn’t his dad, all the shit with the gold and Enduro… you could really use a win. JJ deserved a win more than anything. 

“Shit, here they come,” Rafe spoke up as he caught sight of the mercenaries who were catching up. “Stay here! I’ll go down and buy us some time.”

“Rafe, no!” You tried to ignore the pit of fear in your stomach but it was grabbing you tighter than you had ever felt before. “They’ll kill you!”

Rafe shook his head. “I’m a killer too! Got nothing to lose!”

Your face contorted into an odd expression at his response before you let him go and turned your attention back to JJ. He was getting closer and closer to the top but you knew he had no clue what to look for.

“JJ, hurry!” You coughed around the sand in your throat and walked closer to see him better.

After a moment, you could hear him cheer in excitement. “Yeah, baby! We did it!”

You tucked your head down as a particularly strong blast nearly knocked you off your feet. You could barely make out his figure in the storm around you as he stumbled his way toward you. “JJ! We gotta get out of here!”

 “I’m good, I’m good!” He reassured as he got closer. “I’m great, actually.”

He shifted the scarf around his neck to reveal the crown, the Blue Crown, that you guys had risked your lives to get here in search of. 

“Oh my God,” You gasped before cheering in excitement. “Do you know what this means?”

JJ pulled the headwrap off to see you better, his hands moving the crown closer so you could hold it yourself. “We’re getting it back. We’re getting our home back.”

The celebrating was cut short as JJ caught sight of something behind you before shoving the show of you out of the way. A gunshot rang out seconds later, warning enough that the two of you needed to keep moving. 

“Go, go, go. I’ve got ya!” JJ’s hand wrapped itself into yours as he took the lead, weaving the two of you through tunnels and structures before you could even blink. The storm was starting to die down, the wind and sand slowing as you guys moved deeper into the town. 

Your run was cut short as JJ slammed on the brakes and you ran into his back. “J?” You asked, confused before you caught sight of the person in front of him.

Chandler Groff had caused JJ so much pain in the few weeks your group had come to know him. From disowning him as a baby, to almost killing him, and the constant manipulation, you were beginning to wonder if Luke was the lesser of the two evils. Life had been so unkind to JJ and you refused to let this man take anything else from him. 

Groff gave the two of you a wicked smile. His knife gleamed against the sunshine, the reflection coasting your eyes as you realized you were defenseless. He moved the blade closer in your direction. “You know what I want.”

JJ’s grip on your hand tightened. There’s a lot of things he would do if you weren’t here, but you were, and that meant you were his top priority.

“And if we don’t?” You tilted your head, mockingly. It was two against one here, even if he had a shitty knife.

“Then I’ll kill you both and leave your friends to find you in bits and pieces.”

You squeezed JJ’s hand twice, a silent signal that you were ready if he was. “Yeah, not happening.”

The two of you moved in tandem, your leg kicking up to knock the knife from his grip and JJ pouncing forward to pin his so-called father against the stone wall with an aggressiveness you hadn’t seen before. 

Groff groaned as his head slammed into the rough surface, eyes struggling to refocus. JJ leaned closer, his forearm pressing against the man’s throat harder. “Don’t you ever threaten her again, ya hear me?”

When Groff didn’t answer, JJ applied more force, relishing in the way the man groaned in pain. “You’ll regret ever crossing me.”

JJ wasn’t risking it and pulled back before slamming Chandler’s head back, effectively knocking the man unconscious. “Hard pass,” The blond teen spat, giving the man a hefty punch to the head to drive his point home. 

“You okay?” You asked quietly as JJ stared at the form of the man who he was beginning to trust. 

He twitched at the question before taking a deep breath. “Yeah, yeah.” His hand reached back to you, waiting for you to grab on. “Let’s go find our friends and get the hell out of here, yeah?”

You took his offer, kissing him softly before nodding in agreement. “Let’s do it.”

And the two of you ran off, leaving Chandler Groff to bleed out on his own, taking the karma he deserved with him to the grave. You had a treasure to celebrate.

--

a/n: fuck u obx writers and goodbye.

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[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

As if you care | Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: JJ and Rafe crash at the finish line of the Enduro Race. Just because you and Rafe aren't together anymore doesn't mean you weren't worried about his safety.

A/N: Hope you enjoy! I promise I proof read the best I could with a 13 month old running around getting into everything 😅

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

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The beach was packed with onlookers, ready to watch the 2024 Enduro race and see who would take champion this year. Your feet dug in the hot sand as you made it through the crowd to the sideline where the rest of the Pogues were. JJ would be racing again this year hoping to turn his luck around and win this year.

You could see across the track the kooks gathering around. One in particular catching your eye dressed like he was ready to race. He was never one to participate in these types of things so seeing him there was a shock.

"Rafe's here racing?" You ask Sarah, watching as Rafe pushes his bike to the starting line, beside the other racers.

She too was confused by his participation, shrugging, "I guess so."

Shielding your eyes from the hot sun, you can see Rafe has noticed you, giving you a brief nod of acknowledgment before swinging his leg over the bike to mount it.

"Shit," Sarah says, "Why the hell is he racing?" She's immediately stomping through the sand toward John B where he too is pushing his bike to the starting line next to JJ.

You followed Sarah, heading for JJ.

"You here to give me a good luck kiss?" JJ teases you with a kissy face, leaning close to you, as Sarah leans over to give John B a kiss.

You shove him in the shoulder, laughing, "You wish, Maybank."

He chuckles mounting his bike, sliding his bandana over his head, "No see I think if you kissed me, I'd win."

You rolled your eyes at his flirting, "Try not to get killed out there." You grab his helmet off the back of his bike, handing it to him. You and JJ had grown close after breaking up with Rafe, but it never crossed a friendship line. He was flirty, but both of you knew there wasn't anything there. He knew you still loved Rafe.

"You see your boy is racing today?"

"Yeah," You reply. Before anything else is said, the announcer gives the racers the minute warning. "Be safe out there."

"Oh I'll be so safe," He drags out with a laugh, hand on his heart.

You can't help but laugh at the memory with Pope, heading back toward the sideline with Sarah.

Rafe slides his helmet over his head, starting his engine and revving it a few times. Even behind helmet you can feel his eyes on you. He felt the anger pulsing through his veins as he saw the interaction between you and JJ. He should have known he would lose you and you'd moved on by now. It only pissed him off more that it was JJ.

You and Rafe had dated for a year before you ended it. He'd started hanging around the wrong crowd, drugs and alcohol making him a changed man. He wasn't the Rafe you fell in love with and you'd tried everything to get him to stop, get help and go to rehab but he'd blown up, destroying your shared apartment in anger; broken furniture, glass littering the floor, holes in the wall. It left you terrified and you gave him the ultimatum. Get help or you were leaving him. Unfortunately, the group had their nails dug deep in him and he wasn't ready to give up his way of life yet. You'd packed up everything you owned from the apartment that night with the help of the Pogues and hadn't looked back.

It didn't mean you didn't care for Rafe. or that you ever stopped loving him. There was no way you could live like that with him and Rafe didn't want the help. You had to admit, you could tell he looked healthier there on the beach, nothing like he did when you left 6 months previous. He'd shaved his hair, his skin was tan and those dark circles under his eyes were gone.

Soon the race began, sand flying through the air. The announcers had people set through the track to see where the racers stood in standings.

At the beginning, Rafe was first, JJ falling behind. As they come around the last curve, JJ jumped the sand dune, putting him in first place. Rafe and JJ went neck and neck, bumping into each other.

They both recovered but Rafe went for him again, bumping his tire and sending both of them flying through the air, landing hard in the sand.

As the race concludes, Topper taking first, everyone stormed the track, you immediately went to JJ with the Pogues.

"What the hell is wrong with you!" JJ starts toward Rafe.

"Get use to it, pogue." He shakes the sand off his arms.

JJ lunges for Rafe and Rafe lunges for JJ, but you quickly jump between them, "Hey! Hey both of you stop it!" pushing them back by their chests,

"You could have killed each other! are you fucking crazy!" You spit out to Rafe of anger and worry for the both of them.

"As if you care." Rafe pushes your hand off his chest, his shoulder bumping into you as he pushes past you before storming through the crowd.

You make sure JJ's ok, before following after Rafe. "Rafe!" Your legs burn as they dig into the sand, his long legs making it hard for you to catch up.

He doesn't acknowledge you, unzipping his suit to his waist as he nears his truck.

"Rafe!" You finally catch up to him at his truck, grabbing his arm to will him to face you, "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

He faces you, his face red with anger, "I know I fucked up alright, but did you really have to go for Maybank?" He lets his trucks tailgate down to throw his suit and boots in the back. He doesn't give you a chance to answer, "Just go back to your boyfriend. I'll apologize later when I'm calm."

The slam of the tailgate makes you jump, but you recover, grabbing his arm, "JJ is not my boyfriend! You don't get to pull this bullshit. Not after all the shit you put me through. You seriously could have killed both of you! That was reckless; a stupid move."

He can see your angry and if he's not mistaken, even a little scared, "Why do you care about my safety anyways? It's not like we're together."

"I didn't stop caring for you Rafe. I just didn't deserve the way you were treating me and I left. You needed help and you wouldn't accept it. What was I suppose to do? Stay with you while you continued to wreck our relationship and your life? You destroyed our apartment; you broke furniture. put holes in the walls. I was terrified."

He lets his back hit the side of his truck, running a hand over his head as he looks down at the ground, embarrassed he let his feelings get the best of him. "You're right, I shouldn't have done what I did. Today or that night. I was in deep with that group and I should have got out sooner. You did the right thing leaving." He finally wills himself to look at you. His eyes are sad, "As much as it broke my heart to see you leave, you did the right thing. I wasn't in a good head space and honestly I don't know what I would have done to you. I'm sorry I even put you through what I did. You didn't deserve it."

"I forgive you," You lay your hand on his arm, "I just wanted my Rafe back." You say, tears threatening to spill over.

Rafe wipes a tear away with his knuckle, "I'm here."

You lean into his touch, eyes closing in the comfort of his touch. You missed him.

Soon, his hands are tugging you into his chest, his arms wrapping around your shoulders and he plants a kiss against your hair. You can feel your entire body relax into his. Your hands move up his back, palms open against his shoulder blades.

"God, I don't deserve you." He says into your hair, giving you a tighter squeeze. He needed this comfort just as much as you did.

He's the first to pull away from you, hands sliding to your cheeks, "I've missed you."

You place your hand over his, bringing his hand to your lips, and kissing his palm, "I've missed you too."

~

The two of you start heading back to the beach, deciding you both needed the extra time together. Everything finally felt right in the world. Your hand in his as your feet dig into the sand, the orange of the sun dancing against the ocean's waves as it sets against the ocean's horizon.

"I can see you still let your emotions get the better of you."

He chuckles softly, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and bringing you toward him, "When it comes to you, I do." He says before kissing the top of your head.

I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed and so appreciated! x

[motocrunch]

[gentlemanmotorslifestyle]

[miazetomer]

Heartless | Rafe Cameron x pogue(ish)!fem!reader (Part VII)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, angst, fluff, smut, alcohol use, drug use, mention of abortion, takes place during season four, the usual

Summary: You were back on Kildare after two years. You were able to finish your business degree at UNC Chapel Hill in just two years after earning enough college credits in high school. But, you came back as a force to be reckoned with. You had your own very successful development company which just so happened to be Cameron Development’s newest competition. Two years later and you’re still finding ways to get under Rafe’s skin.

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♡♡♡

You stepped off your family’s private jet at the Kildare airport. The strong smell of salt and sea water hitting you like a train. The last time you were at this airport you saw your then-boyfriend, Rafe Cameron, kill Sheriff Peterkin.

Two years earlier…

“What did you do Rafe?” You said breathlessly as you ran into the Cameron estate.

“I-I had to, baby, you saw what was happening. She was gonna get my dad.” Rafe said, pacing around. He looked crazy. You always knew there was something different about your boyfriend, but you didn’t think he was capable of murder. “I-I needed to save my dad.”

That was the last time you saw him. After that, you stayed in The Cut, didn’t go anywhere you knew where he would be, you stopped helping John B and JJ with the hunt for the gold, you basically became a recluse until you left for school.

Everyone had kept you up to date on their adventures. You even let them stay at your family’s house in Barbados when they needed some place to stay.

After settling in at your mom’s house, you quickly made the drive to the newly established Poguelandia.

“Y/n.” Sarah cheered with a smile, running over to you. You quickly hugged her as the two of you jumped up and down, smiles plastered across your faces. It felt like suddenly you were sixteen years old again, seeing your best friend after you were in Europe for the summer.

You thought you were going to cry when you saw your brother. You left Sarah’s side and ran over to him, practically tackling him to the ground as you hugged him.

“You know, I expected the first hug, but the second one is fine too.” JJ joked, returning your hug. His voice was like music to your ears. It broke your heart to leave him here on Kildare, but you needed to get out of here, away from everything and everyone.

“You are never hunting for gold, ever again.” You warned, pointing your finger at him. “I’ve never been so worried in my life when my mom called to tell me you were a missing person. She came and got you right? From the airport.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He answered, nodding his head. “She actually let me crash at her place for a while.”

“Good.” You smiled before walking over to John B.

“You know when you left I was pretty certain you were never coming back.” John B said as he hugged you. “You had me pretty worried.”

“Never say never, JB.” You returned the hug with a smile before moving over to hug Kie and Pope. “You must be Cleo.” You smiled towards the girl who you didn’t recognize but had heard plenty about.

Everyone hung out in the backyard and you told them all about your company that was quickly taking off and they told you about the business they started in the backyard.

“So, like, do you have an assistant now?” Sarah asked, knocking her shoulder against yours.

“I do.” You answered, cringing a little. You never imagined having your own assistant, you always thought it was pretentious, but when things started piling up, you realized quickly you would need one.

When the pogues told you about what happened at the Enduro, you felt a fresh wave of anger surge through you. The type of anger you hadn’t felt in a long time. The type of anger only one person has ever been able to bring out in you, Rafe Cameron.

“I’ll see you guys later.” You muttered, standing up and pulling your car keys out of your jean shorts pocket.

You raced to the Cameron estate, typing in the gate code that you had had memorized since you were a kid. You quickly pulled into the driveway once the gate opened and got out of your car, slamming the door shut. You thought about just storming in there like you owned the place, but instead you took a second and knocked on the door politely. You knew that if you pounded on the door, no one would open it, probably terrified.

“Y/n.” Sofia said softly when she opened the door.

“Where is he?” You were fuming. Sofia didn’t know a lot about you, but she knew when you were angry, not to try to stand in your way.

“H-He’s upstairs in his bathroom.” She answered and you pushed past her, before running up the stairs.

You pushed open the door to his bedroom, a room you spent countless nights and hours in, but before you let yourself reminisce, you walked into his bathroom. The bathroom was steamy, Rafe obviously just got out of the shower as he wrapped a towel around his waist. He looked up at the sound of the door opening expecting Sofia, but his smile dropped when he saw you. His eyes raked over you, he thought you looked good, older, more mature. But when his eyes landed on your face, he already knew you were pissed.

“Y/n.” He said cautiously.

“Are you crazy?” You walked over to him and pushed him, but Rafe barely moved. “You could’ve killed him.” Another push. Rafe almost killing JJ wasn’t the only reason you were pushing Rafe, it was like every emotion you had suppressed about Rafe was suddenly bubbling to the surface and threatening to spill over. “Seriously, do you ever think? You told me in that letter you wrote that JJ would be off limits, no matter what.”

“You read my letter?”

“Yes, I read your twenty page letter! But, that doesn’t change anything, Rafe, you still almost killed my fucking brother!”

“Let’s not be overdramatic, I tapped his bike and he fell.”

“Really? You just tapped it? Is that why you both went flying?”

“Oh, I see why you’re so upset, you were worried about me.” Rafe smirked down at you, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Worried about you? Please, Rafe, I haven’t worried about you in two years.” You scoffed, crossing your own arms. But the truth was, you did worry about Rafe. Not about his physical well being, but his sanity. You worried about it every day since he killed Peterkin.

“Right, and that’s why you didn’t send those flowers when my dad died?”

“I-I didn’t send any flowers.” You were lying straight through your teeth. Of course you sent flowers when you heard Ward had died, you wanted Rafe to know you would always be there for him without him knowing it was you.

“Really? Y/n, your signature flower was in the bouquet.” Your face faltered a little, you knew you shouldn’t have put those stupid flowers in the bouquet, but you wanted to do something that showed it was you, even if Rafe didn’t realize it. You never would’ve thought he would remember what your favorite flower was.

“I’m not here to talk about what happened almost two years ago, Rafe, I’m here to talk about yesterday.”

“What happened, happened, y/n, there’s nothing you can do to change it.”

“No, but you can apologize.”

“Apologize? To a pogue?”

“Look, I’m giving you until the end of the night to apologize and if I find out you didn’t, I will ruin your life, Cameron.”

As you turned to leave, Rafe called out saying, “I’ll see you later tonight, Thornton.”

That was your breaking point. The idea that Rafe would show up at your homecoming party with the help hanging off his arm pissed you off to no end. Every emotion you felt coming back here was boiling over and you picked up the closest thing to you, throwing it towards Rafe’s head. But, Rafe ducked before the glass hit his head, smashing against the wall.

With that you turned on your heel and walked out of the Cameron estate, driving just next door to start getting ready for your homecoming party.

“Everything okay?” Sofia asked Rafe, standing in the doorway to the bathroom.

“Everything’s fine.” Rafe responded, a little snappy. “Just an old friend saying hi.”

“An old friend? Or an old girlfriend?”

Sofia knew all about your relationship with Rafe. She would see the two of you at the club, golfing together or playing tennis, grabbing lunch or getting drinks. She saw how happy the two of you looked, until you stopped showing up one day. No more golf or tennis games, no more lunch, no more drinks before going to get dinner at an expensive restaurant. No more you.

That was when she swooped in. She attempted to put Rafe back together piece by piece, but it was like none of the pieces fit each other. Eventually, she just accepted she would never get to experience the love he had with you for herself, just happy that she had Rafe to herself for the time being. In the back of her head she knew you would come back one day, but she just kept that thought locked up, ready to deal with it when the time came. But, now the time has come and she doesn’t know if she’s ready to deal with losing Rafe.

♡♡♡

You walked through your childhood home’s backyard, with a glass of champagne, saying hello to everyone you came across. This was your chance to network on Kildare, gain the clientele and investors you really wanted and needed to start building on Kildare. Your eyes darted over to a table by the house and there he stood, talking to people you had just chatted up. You excused yourself from the table you stood at and made your way over, downing your glass of champagne before putting it on a server’s tray.

“The woman of the hour.” An older man said with a smile, raising his glass towards you, you returned the smile with your own, followed by a quick hello.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.” You laughed politely. “I was just wondering if I could borrow Mr. Cameron here just for a moment.” You put your hand on Rafe’s bicep, looking up at him with the fakest smile you could muster.

“Of course.” The older man responded with a small nod of his head.

“Thank you.” You excused the two of from the table, dropping your hand from Rafe’s arm as you walked in front of him, leading him to the porch, away from everyone so you could have a private conversation. You would’ve gone inside, but the woman of honor could not be seen sneaking inside during her own party, much less with her ex-boyfriend.

“Keep smiling.” You started while plastering a polite, fake smile on your face. “I don’t need them thinking something is wrong. What are you doing here?”

“I told you I was coming.” Rafe smirked down at you, shoving his hands in his dress pants pockets.

“I didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

“I’ll always show up for you.”

“Where’s your girlfriend?” You asked, ignoring Rafe’s comment.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“I don’t know, Rafe, I think you do and I think you’re scared to admit it because you’re scared of what people are going to say when they find out you’ve been sleeping with the help.”

“Sofia is not the help.” He scoffed.

“Really? Because if I remember correctly she used to make us drinks at the club all the time. I mean we would be there and she would be there, but she would be behind the bar serving everyone drinks. Or if we were playing a round of golf she would always be a cart girl, you know now that I think of it, she was always around, wherever you were at the club, she was there ready to help. Sounds like the help to me, oh and a bit stalker-ish. Also, if you could tell her to get off the balcony, she’s dampening the mood of my party.” You pointed to Rafe’s balcony where Sofia stood, scanning the crowd for him, looking like a starved, sad puppy. You grabbed a champagne flute off of a server’s tray and walked back out into the crowd before Rafe could say anything else.

“Ms. Thornton.” A blonde woman said with a smile, stopping you in your path. You recognized her, you just couldn’t place it. “How nice to see you, welcome back to Kildare.”

“Mrs. Robinson.” You greeted her with your own polite smile. “Thank you, it’s so wonderful to be back, I forgot how nice everyone is.”

“You know, I heard you’ve become one of the leaders in the development business lately. I have a fantastic business opportunity for you, if you would love to hear it sometime.”

“I love business opportunities, let me give you my number.”

♡♡♡

“So, did Rafe, ever like apologize to you for knocking you off your bike at the Enduro?” You asked your brother as you sat across from him on your boat. You decided everyone deserved a break from working so hard and invited them on your yacht for the day.

“No.” JJ answered with a confused look on his face. “Why would he ever apologize for doing something like that?”

“No reason.” You said, looking off towards the water. “I have to make a call.”

♡♡♡

You were at the club playing a game of golf when one of the managers came out to talk to you.

“Nice swing, Ms. Thornton.” He said with a smile, his hands behind his back.

“What’s up, James?” You asked, putting your 9-Iron back in your bag.

“You asked me to come get you if Mr. Cameron showed up, he’s here.”

“Thank you, James.” You smiled, pulling your gloves off as you walked inside. You walked outside the front doors to where Rafe stood with his arms crossed.

“Seriously, you had my club membership revoked?” Rafe asked.

“You know that’s the nice thing about my step-dad owning the country club, I can do whatever I want.”

“You think that this is ruining my life?” Rafe chuckled, looking down at you.

“Oh no, this is just the start. I mean what will everyone say when they find out Rafe Cameron, the owner of Cameron Development, got kicked out of the country club? I mean all it takes for you to become an outcast is for me to tell one person that you got kicked out for assaulting the owner’s prized step-daughter.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“You’re right I won’t, if you apologize.”

“You’d be willing to ruin someone’s life because of a race?”

“No, Rafe, I’m willing to ruin your life because of all the other bullshit you’ve pulled with my brother and friends.” You said, glaring up at Rafe. “It’s about time someone held you accountable for your actions and if the cops won’t, then I will.” You added with a shrug. You went to walk away, but Rafe grabbed your elbow, pulling you back.

“I am not that person anymore, y/n. You can’t hold that shit against me.”

“You mean I can’t hold you almost drowning Sarah, or shooting her, or the countless times you beat the shit out of Pope, against you?”

“And what if everyone found out about the abortion you got?”

“Keep your voice down.” You said through gritted teeth, your face a mixture of hurt and embarrassment. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to throw that in my face. You know that was one of the hardest decisions of my life.”

When you and Rafe first started dating you had missed a couple of your birth control pills. You were so wrapped up in applying to colleges and scholarships that you thought it wouldn’t hurt to miss one or two every time you turned off the alarm, saying you would take them later. But, before you knew it, you had missed a week.

Luckily, with your form of birth control you still experienced your periods, so you knew something was wrong when you missed your next period. You had chalked it up to stress, but when it didn’t come the next week or the week after that, you decided to buy a couple tests. When they all came back positive, you panicked, you didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t part of your plan.

You thought the decision would be easy, but when the day of your appointment came and you sat in the chair as the doctor went over everything with you, you thought about everything. The color its hair would be, if it would have your eyes or Rafe’s eyes, if it would be good at sports. But, then you realized that’s all it was to you, an it.

After the abortion, you laid in bed for a week, unable to do anything. You didn’t regret it, but the thought that you had just gotten rid of a part of you and Rafe was tough for you to deal with. Rafe wasn’t upset, or mad, or disappointed, he was understanding. He laid in that bed with you for a week. He helped you shower, he helped you with your homework as best as he could, he helped you study for your tests. He didn’t leave your side until he was certain you were okay.

“Apologize to JJ and I won’t say anything to anyone, you’ll get your membership back, and we can go back to pretending like we don’t know each other just like the last two years.”

“I’ll apologize to your brother, but I’m not just gonna walk around here pretending I don’t know you.”

“I don’t know what you want from me Rafe. Do you really expect me to forget all the atrocious things you did to my friends?”

“No, I just want you to know I’m not that guy anymore. I’m trying to do better, I’m in therapy, I got off coke, Cameron Development is better than ever.”

“Rafe, all of that is great, but I can’t just ignore everything. I have a game to finish.”

With that you walked back inside the club, leaving Rafe standing outside.

[erkmurray]

Trying to fit in as many evening rides as I can while summer is still here

Insta

[keanuquotes]

The Enduring Appeal of Keanu Reeves He battles evildoers in 'John Wick 4,' manufactures two-wheel pieces of art, and is worshiped by the internet, but Keanu Reeves swears he's just a normal guy. And he’s got the scars to prove it. Ky HendersonMar 15, 2023 9:00 AM EDT It’s easy to look cool when you’re riding a motorcycle, but it’s hard to look cooler than Keanu Reeves on a brisk, sunny afternoon in Los Angeles. He rests his left hand on his thigh and steers with his right, which gooses the throttle as he weaves around slow drivers. He wears a form-fitting black canvas motorcycle jacket that accentuates how trim he is—even more fit than he appears on-screen—and a beat-up Shoei helmet. He leaves the visor up, choosing instead to shield his eyes with sunglasses the Terminator might wear to a Hamptons garden party. Reeves looks at home and at ease on a motorcycle. He looks cool.

At a gas station stop, he suggests switching bikes. We’re each riding cruisers made by Arch, the motorcycle company Reeves co-founded with designer Gard Hollinger in 2011. The company produces high-end, highly personalized production bikes; I’m on a 1s, the company’s new $100,000+ sport cruiser. Reeves is on an older model, KRGT-1, but it’s his personal Arch, a true one-of-a-kind. It's the only Arch ever painted YK Blue, a color Reeves and Hollinger commissioned based on the ultramarine pigment famously mixed by mid-century French artist Yves Klein. Reeves says all that’s left of the paint is in a tiny can stored somewhere at Arch in case the bike’s paint ever needs touch-ups.

Which it most certainly would if, let’s say, some idiot were to put the bike down in front of a horrified Reeves while riding down the Pacific Coast Highway. Thankfully, there’ll be no lowsides today. Although the bike is beefy, with a 2,032cc V-twin powerplant, it’s easy to maneuver and comfy as a BarcaLounger.

Keanu Reeves stands in motorcycle factory holding blue mug Brian Bowen Smith

Reeves eventually leads us back to Arch’s factory building, which is nondescript from the outside but artfully decorated inside using shipping containers to separate working areas. Metal fabrication is done behind one; customer bikes are lined up in another with technicians hard at work. After Reeves dips outside for a cigarette—the 58-year-old both looks like a much younger man and smokes with the frequent abandon of one—he leads us to a small conference room.

“I like meeting people, but I’m a little reserved,” he warns as he settles into an office chair, looking far less comfortable than he did on a motorcycle. “How much of my private life do I want to talk about? I don’t know. Otherwise, let’s hang out.”

When Reeves was growing up in the Yorkville neighborhood of Toronto, he was consumed with existential thoughts. He discussed death a lot more than the average 11-year-old, for instance—but not because he wanted to die. He just wanted answers to big questions. Perhaps not entirely unrelated to his interest in mortality, he was also obsessed with the biker gangs that periodically motored into the neighborhood. It wasn't pods of dentists letting loose on weekends. It was leathers, patches, menace—the whole deal. And Reeves loved it.

“They looked exotic,” Reeves says. "They looked to me like they were free. Plus the bikes were cool and sounded great.”

Despite his childhood fascination, Reeves was in his early 20s before he first rode a motorcycle. It happened at a movie studio in Berlin—where else?—when he saw a woman on an off-road enduro bike in a parking lot. He approached her and asked if she’d teach him to ride, which she agreed to on the spot. (If you’re wondering why a woman would do that for a total stranger, search “Keanu Reeves in the 80s” in Google Images.)

Not long after he got back to Los Angeles, he bought a 1973 Mk2a Norton Commando, having long admired the classic brand. That bike currently sits in the Arch shop, which is notable for two reasons: One, few longtime riders are lucky enough to be able to hold onto their first bike. Two, over the years Reeves has…suffered some mishaps.

“Yeah, I’ve fallen off a few times,” he admits of the accidents he’s had on a variety of bikes. He takes a swig of water, then corrects himself. “Not ‘fallen off.’ Crashed. I’ve got a couple of hit-by-cars. A couple of going-too-fast. I’ve laid a couple of bikes down but I was riding in the winter, so that’s not really ‘crashing.’ That’s about it. The usual stuff.”

He’s broken ribs, knocked out teeth, sliced his leg open so deep that bone was visible. His most spectacular accident occurred in 1988, only a couple years after that day in Berlin. Reeves was riding alone at night in Malibu’s Topanga Canyon when he took one of the twisties too fast. By the time he came to a stop, he was lying on the pavement wondering if he was about to die. As you know, he didn’t—but he did fuck himself up pretty bad.

“I ruptured my spleen,” he says matter-of-factly. The widely reported version of the story goes that he needed the organ removed, but Reeves says it’s still intact. “They sutured it up and put a Band-Aid on.” He has a gnarly scar running vertically from his sternum down to his belly button, but in the right light it just ends up accentuating his abs because, well, he’s Keanu.

Reeves first met Hollinger through a mutual acquaintance about two decades after that crash, when Reeves wanted a custom sissy bar—basically, a backrest for a passenger—added to his 2005 Harley Davidson Dyna. Hollinger, who at that point was a relatively well-known, well-respected customizer with his own small LA shop, wasn’t interested.

“I knew I could build him the world’s most expensive sissy bar,” Hollinger says, “but I also knew it wouldn’t be satisfying for either of us.”

Instead, Hollinger spent the next five years completely reimagining the bike. He’d work in spurts, changing or adding something, then handing the bike back over to Reeves for months. By the time the bike was finished, Hollinger says, about the only parts of the original Dyna still remaining were the engine and the serial number on the chassis. Today that bike—a chromed-out ride fit for Mad Max—is displayed in the shop, the inspiration for what eventually became Arch.

Keanu Reeves on motorcycle wearing black canvas jacket and sunglasses Brian Bowen Smith

Eventually being the key word. When, during the long process of modding the bike, Reeves first suggested to Hollinger that the two team up to start a motorcycle company, Hollinger didn’t have to think about his answer.

“I knew what a tough business it is, what a challenge it would be—and that it would not be a great investment,” Hollinger, now 63, says with a laugh. “It was a wonderful motorcycle I built and it was wonderful getting to know Keanu, but starting a motorcycle company sounded like a horrible idea.”

Reeves didn’t relent. As the pair became better friends—and as the motorcycle continued to take shape—they’d have long conversations about the realities of starting the company. Hollinger would show up to their discussions with pages of questions written on a legal pad, but what gradually eroded his hesitation was the thoughtfulness with which Reeves described the experience of riding a motorcycle.

Finally, nearly convinced, Hollinger asked Reeves to boil everything down to one reason why they should do something as seemingly crazy as starting a motorcycle company. The actor came up with it on the spot—a reason Hollinger immediately understood, which allowed him to envision the company and its worth as an opportunity to do something meaningful and long-lasting.

“Because,” Reeves told him, channeling the mortality-obsessed 11-year-old kid gawking at dudes on motorcycles, “we’re going to die.”

Related: 2023 Arch 1s Sport Cruiser Is the American (V-twin) Dream

There have been many jokes made over the years about Reeves being a dummy, but after spending about 8 seconds with the guy it’s obvious he’s keenly intelligent. I mention that I read lots of sci-fi and fantasy books as a kid, which prompts him to ask whether I have opinions on several titles, followed by recommendations to read several others.

Thing is, his idiosyncratic public persona—which is sort of like Ted (not Bill) if Ted were a little more shy and a much better dresser—isn’t an act. Reeves isn’t trying to fool his critics or fans. And he isn’t really putting on an act in an attempt to prevent people from knowing who he is. He’s just this very singular, introspective, likable person who happened to become a pop culture icon.

All of that said? He can be pretty goofy. His physical mannerisms are sometimes at odds with what he’s saying, like he’s being controlled by feuding puppeteers. He speaks haltingly, stopping and starting and stopping again, often all in the same sentence, as he considers what exactly he wants to say or, just as likely, what he doesn’t want to say. More than once over the course of an afternoon he giggles—yes, giggles—at something he says or thinks, placing his cupped hand over his mouth like a theatrical school child hiding laughter; the gesture is as strange as it is endearing. He's somehow both laconic and verbose, calm and keyed up.

Although Reeves has long been known as “The internet’s boyfriend,” he’s currently dating—sorry, internet—acclaimed visual artist Alexandra Grant. The pair first collaborated on the 2011 book Ode to Happiness after having known each other previously; in the following years they collaborated on other projects and co-founded the small book imprint X Artists’ Books. Their romantic relationship began about five years ago but only became public knowledge two years in, when they arrived at a red carpet event together.

When asked about Grant, Reeves leans back in his chair as though trying to put both metaphorical and literal distance between himself and the idea of discussing his personal life.

So, uh, maybe it’s best to make it about bikes: What’s Grant’s opinion of Reeves’ (occasionally injurious) motorcycle fixation?

“She used to have a motorcycle, so she’s fine with it,” Reeves says. Then he pauses, as he so often does, seemingly considering whether to say anything more. “She hasn’t ridden in a while.”

Despite his lifelong love of bikes, Reeves hasn’t ridden them much in his movies. There’s a brief scene in the landmark 1991 indie film My Own Private Idaho. There’s some riding in 1996’s Chain Reaction, including one scene in which he manages to outrun an exploding hydrogen reactor. He’s technically on a bike in John Wick 3 while battling bad guys, but that was all done while stationary in front of a green screen. He has no interest in shoehorning Arches into his movies, though a couple of Arches are featured in the futuristic 2020 video game Cyberpunk 2077, in which he also played a major role.

Reeves says there’s a brief motorcycle scene in the upcoming John Wick 4, a movie whose eventual existence might have been laughed at when the original film debuted. Despite the series’ current status as an unstoppable franchise juggernaut, it originally wasn’t even planned as a franchise—and it certainly didn’t appear destined to be one after John Wick received a somewhat tepid theatrical reception in 2014.

“It had some success in the theater, but it really became more popular in second viewings,” Reeves says. “So the studio asked if we wanted to do another one.”

Reeves does more than just kick unbelievable amounts of ass in the movies; he’s also had a hand in plotting out the sequels. The genesis of the third and fourth installments, he says, took place while he and director Chad Stahelski were on the road promoting the second and third movies, respectively.

“Generally, Chad and I cook ’em up while we’re doing press tours,” Reeves says. “We talk about what we’d do next if the current film does well. I’m like, ‘I want to ride a horse and do a horse chase!’ And Chad says, ‘Yeah, we can do it in Central Park!’”

Reeves says he doesn’t know what comes next for him, but John Wick 5 will almost certainly be an option—if he wants to do it. He’s currently developing a TV series, and maybe he’ll make the motorcycle road movie he’s long thought about making. He’ll also no doubt continue riding bikes and growing Arch because he loves doing both.

He says he may continue BRZRKR, the comic series he co-writes. He won’t stop helping others via his philanthropy (he declines to discuss other than to say it’s “in health and the arts”). And he’ll burnish his already-glowing reputation as, in his words, “a pretty respectful and considerate person,” because that’s how he likes to treat people.

“I’m just,” Reeves says as his mouth curls into a smirk and his arms shoot out in front of him as though he’s pleading to be believed, “a normal guy.”

via keanuworld

[mysticbeaver]

So after the last short fic, I struggled to write another idea and ended up drawing it, which turned out much better than the fic itself... (I actually finished the drawing like a week ago so I really want to get this out of my system 🥴) Please enjoy some more mundane everyday KevRolf life, featuring fanart at the end...

Dorkback Mountain

"Bakhin dehorten..."

He lifted his wide-brimmed hat and scratched his hair, staring hopelessly at the tractor seat lying on his workbench.

"Hey there, pard'ner…”

He turned his head to see his housemate approaching with a wide-legged stride, arms arched out at his hips as if waiting to draw two six-shooters from their holsters.

“Where didya get that good-lookin’ hat?"

“Tch!” He scoffed, adjusting his cowboy-style hat. Despite not needing any shielding under the porch, he couldn't resist donning his new purchase.

"Rolf acquired this at the fancy shiny market hall, duck-walking Kevin-boy." 

"The mall?” He crossed his arms with a smirk. “When didya go to the mall without me, huh?"

"The last end-of-week when you went on the vroom-vroom bike expedition in the woods, yes?"

"Oh, that... you know what, you should totally come and try enduro one day. You like bikes, you’re gonna like offroads…”

"Mmm, Rolf will admit to being a curious cat… and the merry tales of your friends are funny too."

"Hey, you're always welcome at the meet-ups. Morning coffee at Parrot’s Bar, every Saturday, you know the drill… bring yer hat too, sheriff." He struck another pose reminiscent of some spaghetti-western movie.

"Rolf is not amused by your aching-groin-walk."

Kevin laughed out loud. "So, what seems t'be the problem, deputy?"

He sighed. "Rolf wanted to assemble this seat suspension, yes? It would be easy-cake work if the tool was not missing-"

Before he could finish the sentence, Kevin produced a wrench from his pocket and eagerly plopped it onto the workbench. He stared at the tool, confused.

"Why in the posterior of the dog did you have Rolf's screw-key?”

Kevin looked away with a coy smile and shrugged. “Just needed it a moment, it was lying there, you know…”

“Hmph, you thieving fox.” As soon as he picked up the wrench, a realization struck him.

“Do not think you can hide the other one,” he snarked.

“Don’t know what yer talkin’ about, sheriff.”

Rolf eyed him with suspicion and started checking the tools hanging on the board. The redhead moved closer, whistling absent-mindedly and peeking at the frame contraption on the workbench.

“Ya gotta be careful, there’s lotsa them… banditos out there."

Rolf let out a smug chuckle as he kept examining the wall.

“Sheriff Rolf is not afraid of criminals, for they are swiftly brought to just-EGH?”

Kevin abruptly tore the hat right from his head and bolted, leaving the startled farmer behind.

"SON OF A GUN!”

Kevin ran at full speed across the courtyard and into the barn, where he hastily picked a hiding spot among the haystacks and fences, crouching to cover just in time as Rolf barged in.

"Rolf knows you are here, daring-devil Kevin!"

"Where is the outlaw..."

Only the chickens in their coop were making any noise.

The farmer scanned the environment with gleeful overacting, as if he was in an action b-movie. He spotted his hat lying on the ground and snickered mischievously.

Kevin was barely suppressing snorts and guffaws at the sound of his humming and grunting.

“The fox cannot hide from the hound for long…”

Nothing.

"Curses! That wicked bandito had the best of Rolf today!” He exclaimed loudly and dramatically.

“Sheriff Rolf has to relent."

CLINK!

There was a noise of door creaking, followed by silence. Kevin held his breath for a moment - the coast was clear.

He got up and tip-toed towards the entrance, already planning a way to sneak up on Rolf and scare him-

The damn wrench had fallen from his pocket.

WHAM!

"GAH!!!' He literally jumped as the door flung back open - Rolf was right there.

"WHAT THE-"

"HA-HA! You thought you could fool Rolf, gringo? Rolf has fooled YOU! You will be hung!"

"No way, amigo!" He ran around the barn, relishing the thrill of danger and laughing frantically as Rolf gave chase while uttering various exclamations and growled threats in his native language.

The agile redhead leapt onto the ladder leading up to the loft - he only realized he'd trapped himself when he reached the top. Rolf was right on his tail.

"There is no way out, gunslinger Kevin... you will not escape the wrath of the son of a shepherd!"

”HA-HA!!! Rolf has caught you!"

Jumping back down from the railing of the loft sounded a tad too dangerous for a trick, so Kevin was forced to stumble backwards on the floor until he fell onto a pile of sacks of grain.

He stared in trepidation as the farmer peered up from the ladder, sporting a devilish grin. Rolf slowly got onto the platform, crawling on all fours toward his prey... then suddenly lunged forward.

Kevin let out a yelp, startled by the attack. He burst into laughter as he tried to throw some hay into Rolf's face and failed to stop the farmer from quickly grabbing his flailing hands and pinning them to the floor. All Kevin could do was giggle as Rolf’s face inched closer and closer.

"You are captured, cowboy."

Rolf's nose rubbed playfully against his own and he joined in his boyfriend’s giggling until their lips met.