#women motorcyclists

[jayne-hecate-writer]

A trip out on the motorcycle

Being a disabled person can be boring, really really boring! There are days when I really want to do things, just like I used to do in the past, but my activity levels are directly related to how warm and sunny the day is. If the day is cold and damp, my body refuses to comply and I end up stuck at home, often pumped full of pain killers and barely able to move. On a nice warm day, my joints are a lot less painful and I can do things, although I must be clear here, not to the levels that I previously did. I won't be climbing any mountains anymore.

I have made peace with losing my mobility and to some degree my ability to participate in the rest of my life. So on good days when I can move, I embrace the day and live my best life. Such a day happened last Wednesday, when the weather was just warm enough and my pain levels were just low enough, Carol arranged to meet up with her daughter and daughter in law and then go on a adventure. An adventure that involved riding our motorcycles. For me, I had some trepidation, but I made it, albeit I was exhausted at the end of the day and I could barely walk from the garage to the flat afterwards, despite spending the day sitting down!

We met up in a service station car park and then headed out into the countryside to head towards a small set of locks that have a dock on the banks of the river Severn. We pottered around the dock for a little while, enjoyed the sights, admired the steep drops and tried not to be silly when stood on the edge of the scarily deep canal.

Bored of the docks, or to be more accurate, I ran out of ability to walk, we got back on the bikes and set off to find some dinner. Sitting together to break bread and just be a family was a moment that has changed how I see my world. I don't know when I became old, I certainly don't feel old, but being sat with two young women still in their twenties, right next to a group of international students who had also entered the restaurant at the same time, I felt the weight of my years upon me and yet I was not sad.

I feel blessed to have the family I have. When I made peace with disability, I made peace with myself and with the world around me. I have new hopes and I want to have new adventures, who knows where we are going to go in the future, but one day I really will be old and as I have recently been informed, Alice is going to choose which old folks home I end up in!

Carol filmed the video, with cameras on her her bike and mine. This is the video of our trip.

[galacticghoste]

Soooo dose anyone remember me mentioning about wanting to make a circus AU bc I made some fankids in circus outfits?????

Well I got some rough ideas for their role and designs for some of these characters down

(Yes i was too lazy to draw a motorcycle for shadow so I just drew the globe of death instead)

Maybe at a later time I can play around withe the designs more.

[labyrinthofstreams]

"At a motorcycle rally in Laconia, New Hampshire in 1947, some riders wore personalized protective leather belts."

Photographed by Sam Shere.

[ceciliadreamson]

How do we feel about motorcyclist Ryoshu AU (I have more ideas in mind but I can’t take it out of my mind and drawing it rn hahshsha)

[thepantyreckless]

This is fucking chilling.

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

[im-not-a-virgo-im-a-lesbo]

.

[jackalopenecropsy]

ok i'll indulge myself....

part 1(?) of biker gang!141 and an interesting fem grunge!reader... if u want more

cw; slight mentions of blood

The streets were pretty quiet this time of night. The only sounds to be heard were barking dogs or tires occasionally skidding in the distance. And the teenagers were never out this late in the fall, as school just started or they were working their dead jobs at the gas station or high school graduates pouring the same 5 drinks at a bar.

You liked walking around- even though it was maybe 1 or 2 in the morning- mainly because you had your scary guard dog with you, (who wasn't even a bit scary, he was just a police academy dropout with a fear of cotton swabs and squirrels) but also because the air this time of year smelled the best. It did wonders for your skin and sinuses, so why not? Walking around in the daytime was a lot more of a chore anyways, teenagers skating sporradically with fruity vapes on necklaces or older men just leaving their blue collar jobs for lunch while staring at you with unreadable expressions.

The northwoods, sigh. You'd told yourself that you'd leave it all the time when you were a kid. Over the years, a mix of the economy making that absolutely impossible and an aquirement of taste for small-town life made it a lot easier to accept the impossibility of it. Bartending and eventually being remote in editorial work kept you afloat in the small house you'd been able to buy flat out in the south side of town.

That part of town was just cemeteries and neighborhoods, neighborhoods and railroads, and gas stations and bars. As most south sides were. Another luxury of living where you lived was the copious amounts of streets and drag-worthy strips of old highway that laid for miles in one direction or another.

You used to work as a freelance flag girl for drag racers on some shitty craigslist copy, but quit l because the only racers that wanted you were full of white-claw drunk young assholes rooting for douchebag car modders who compensated for their dick sizes by throttling so hard that the pop of their exhausts sounded like gunfights. It was too loud and to risky and too tasteless.

But in the ends of the summer, it was taken over by the bikers. Not bicycle-bikers, but motorcyclists.

You were absolutely terrible at hiding your drooling depraved stares at every single one of them. The young women in skin-clad leather and red lipstick with matching sleek bikes, the finer-aged older men in their lean-back harleys with bandanas, the cute guys your age in their blackout helmets and their modestly-modded bikes. Oh, the variety, oh the taste. You had once thought about picking up biking yourself, but when you told your friends they all cackled at the idea. You were too absent minded at times; definitely from all the weed you smoked. Only half embarassed, you agreed.

Tonight was no different than the other nights of early Septembers before. Your dog lapped his tongue in the air catching stray dew drops falling from leaves overhead as you took your time walking accross the street. He swayed his tail so hard that you almost got knocked over a few times. The sound of a motorcyle revving in the distance made you slow your speed to a halt, listening intently, shamefully to see if you could get any bit of eye candy while out.

You recognized the sound of the engine, which soon became engines as the sounds came closer.

'Oh... a group of Kawaskis?? No... that's at least two more different motorcyles, but a few Kawaskis.. Do I hear a Harley?'

You blinked to yourself before shaking your head.

'God fucking damnit, you geek. You should NOT be able to tell what motorcyle model someone's riding from the fucking engine.'

Before you can shamefully walk back towards your house, you feel your dog tug harshly at his leash. You try to hold him back, but he yanks with one solid push of his back paws on the blacktop, and before you know it, you're hands and knees down on the hard ground as he's running full speed towards the sound of the motorcycles.

You groan in frustration as you stand up in a small bit of pain, your fishnets torn to shit as your palms and knees are scraped just enough to bleed a reasonable amount for getting launched by a 90 lb dog of muscle.

"Riley!" You shout and run at him, dodging a few trash cans along the street's edge as you do so. "Riley, goddamnit! Come back! Here boy!" Your converse were broken in enough to give you good ground as you chased him, and you almost grab his loose leash dragging behind him- until you trip over your own feet again just before you do.

You stay on the ground this time, unworried for your dog, as he's a big boy who knows how to not get hit by a car or get lost. More focused on the soul-eating embarassment of being outrun by a dog with more anxiety than a war veteran, and tripping twice in the process. You ignore the growing and stalling sound of engines beside- or in front, you can't tell being face down in the gravel- you as you're grovelling.

"Eh... excuse me miss? Are you alright?" You hear a gruff, dark voice mumble from just above you. You whip your head up to look at 5 people in bikers helmets just in front of you, their motorcyles off or stalling as they stand looking down at you on the ground.

"Oh- oh my- uh yeah- don't worry about me I'm great. I just tripped- nothing serious." You wave them off as you try and cover the growing fluster on your face. You stand and shake the dirt off your hands before swiping it off of your zip up, shaking it out of your gloves too. You look up to see none other than Riley, sitting contently behind the man in front of you, eagerly being pet by one of the bikers with a skull design painted onto his helmet and visor.

"Riley!" The biker looks up and your dog wags his tail hard enough to knock the bikers over too, and barks at you. "You are so not going to get any treats when we get home." He whines and continues barking, then twirls in a circle.

"You're dog's name is Riley?" The man in the skull helmet asks- and you suddenly become hyperaware of how all of the bikers are staring so intently at you. And those that have spoken so far have sickeningly thick English accents.

"Ah- yes, yeah. I was just on a walk and I heard you guys from the other street- but he just loves motorcylists so much, he took off on me. Usually he just waits until they pass us by. I'm so so sorry if he got in your way or anything." You scramble to try and seem somewhat normal as you switch between standing like a deer in their headlights, and holding your arms as the wind blew against your back.

"Ain't that a funny coincidence." The biker next to him stated, his accent thicker, and different. Possibly scottish.

"You watch it- It is a good name for a dog like this." The skull-helmet points an authoritative finger at the scot before patting Riley's head again. The man in front of you laughs heartily and takes his helmet off, revealing an older- FINELY aged man with hair in a short, short pulled back light brown and gray spotted ponytail. His mustache pulled down into a scruffy beard by mutton chops, giving him a real grizzly harley-rider look. You swore your jaw dropped when he took it off, and you were quick to cover your mouth when he smiled at you.

"I'm sorry about that miss- You've got a good dog protecting you. My names John Price." He walked up and took your hand from your face, squeezing it lightly. "My boys back there are harmless. You seem to have roughed yourself up a bit." He tilts his head as he leans back and looks you up and down, still holding your hand. Oh how deeply thankful you were that he was blocking the headlights from illuminating your red face.

"Yeah- I'm fine though, really! I just, can't keep up with Riley if I tried." You laugh and tremble a little as the cold air catches up to you. He raises an eyebrow- and fuck it gets to you because it makes him smirk a little bit too.

"Well, no offense but you look like you're in no condition to walk home like that!" A woman's voice comes up from behind Price's. You squint at the light when she comes up, and you see a blonde woman about his age with smile lines and blue eyes that could knock you down to your knees yet again. "My name's Kate, don't let John here scare you, he's just an old man." They banter a bit as you stare into space, begging any ethreal being to show you a sign that this is real life.

'Fuck being bisexual, god hates me.' You curse to yourself as you smile shyly at her.

"We can give you a ride home if you'd want! I wouldn't feel right letting you have to get yourself home with blood down your legs." Price motions with his free hand at your torn fishnets, rocks littering the cuts on your leg.

"Oh- I don't want to impose or anything, and I'll have Riley!" You struggle to keep yourself still as the wind continually stings.

"Lass, you're shakin' like a leaf in this wind." The scottish man shakes his head in his helmet, leaning back against the flat of his bike.

"You ain't getting home with just a dog draggin' you forward." The gruff voice of the skull-head from beside him made you look away in embarassment. They were all right, you were blocks away from home, and you didn't have your phone on you either.

"Um.. If you're sure you don't mind... but what about Riley?"

"He can ride wi' me!" The scott excitedly patted the flat he was leaning on, shuffling a few top panels to show a compartment on the back of it that had a hooking mechanism for leashes. Assumedly he had dogs too, and how greatful you were for it.

You sigh in relief that you wont have to limp home in your misery, as strong as you are, the chunk of you lost twice to the blacktop actually hurt more than you'd ever want to admit.

Before you can take a step forward, you're lifted off your feet and holding the shoulders of Kate. She laughs as you gasp and sets you on the back of skull-head's bike so you can backpack him, right next to Riley in the odd formation their bikes created.

"I promise he's not as scary as he looks- right Simon?"

"I don't bite." He chuckles deeply and you tense against his back as he does so. "You might want to hold on tho', I'm not exactly the easiest ride." You blush, hard as he says it, and the group laughs loudly as they start their bikes.

"Oi, treat her nice Si." A soft voice jeered from the last bike to Kate's right. "Or else I'll have to take her off your hands."

"Nice try Gaz."

"Boys! Quit scarin' her." Price chuckles and lights a cigar as he revs his engine. "Or else she wont wanna see us again. Now where do you need us to take you, love?"

'Ah.' Was all that crossed your mind as you locked your arms around Simon's waist, and you all shot off down the street.

[mimi-0007]

Bessie Stringfield (born Betsy Beatrice White; 1911 or 1912 – February 16, 1993), also known as the "Motorcycle Queen of Miami", was an American motorcyclist who was the first African-American woman to ride across the United States solo, and was one of the few civilian motorcycle dispatch riders for the US Army during World War II. Credited with breaking down barriers for both women and African-American motorcyclists, Stringfield was inducted into the Motorcycle Hall of Fame. The award bestowed by the American Motorcyclist Association (AMA) for "Superior Achievement by a Female Motorcyclist" is named in her honor.

[anonymousfisch]

Some thoughts on Janet (only talking about the movie not the live show)

The beginning of the movie before they enter the castle heavily borrows from the 30s,50s, and 60s aesthetic.

The movie makes choices that are actually really interesting.

Brad and Janet still belong to the conservative, Christian,(implied)republican and sexually repressed society. At this point in the movie both Brad and Janet are still visibly separated from "those types". People who they view as different from them. These people are visually separated from them. The motorcyclists are more like an idea they (especially Brad) can stereotype and judge

If we take all of this into consideration. We might also understand why Janet pushed Brad into a marriage.

The society that they come from doesn’t value women’s choices so all she has is the prospect of marriage. She wants to get married to get married and not necessarily out of love. She actually seems more in love with the ring and what that ring represents. To the point where she feeds Brads toxic traits and plays the role she presumably was taught by society is expected of her.

Brad speaks for her and finds joy in her fear at first, she barely speaks up or shows her true personality because she is to occupied with being the perfect woman/wife.

Until they get into the pink room. That’s when she slowly gets more comfortable with expressing herself. She gets excited about science, expresses that she likes a certain type of man. She also finds joy in he way Frank treats her and actually asks her questions about herself without judgment.

And in my opinion that is also what her "sex scene" is about. Just how Frank picks up on Brads sexual insecurities he picks up on her desire to explore herself. That whole scene is about Frank challenging her perception of sex and purity.

She explores herself further by sleeping with Rocky and making out/ having sex with Columbia during the orgy.

During the ballroom scene she literally sings about how great she feels. She finds herself more comfortable in her body and sexuality.

However in the end the one person who freed her from conservative society gets killed in front of her and now she has to return to a society that won’t allow her new found self to exist. The beast that got awakened is still feeding. They have now become "those types" .

[eretzyisrael]

by Daniel Greenfield

Dewik died alongside Zakariya Najeeb, a top terrorist who had coordinated operations for Hamas, in the maternity ward where mothers are supposed to bring life into the world.

The terrorist who had taken part in the murder of a 5-year-old girl died in a place of children.

Justice had been delayed for 22 years before finally catching up with Fadi Mohammed Dewik.

“When I heard my daughter was murdered, my first reaction was: there is no God,” Jacob Shefi said at the time. “Then I came to my senses. I thought to myself, here, my two sons and my wife were left alive, even though terrorists shot at them from point blank range. They also shot at me and didn’t hit me, there is a higher power watching over us.”

“She loved to pray, go to synagogue. If only she had gone out with me in the morning, maybe she would be alive,” he said.

Today, Jacob is one of the “Blue Riders” motorcyclists in Israeli law enforcement and posts inspirational religious messages in the wake of the Islamic terrorist attacks of Oct 7.

When Danielle was asked what she wanted to be when she grew up, she said that she wanted to be a righteous woman. Today she would have been a young woman, perhaps married with children of her own. Islamic terrorists denied her the opportunity as they had so many innocent victims, from the dead in Adora to those murdered on 9/11, 7/7 in London and Oct 7 in Israel.

Justice under these conditions seems elusive and at times even impossible. And those who are left behind may even wonder if there is a God who sees and makes right a broken world.

Danielle’s full name was Danielle Bat-El Shefi. Bat-El means “Daughter of G-d”.

Murdered on a Sabbath, Danielle was avenged on Purim which commemorates the day when Haman had plotted to kill the Jews, “from the young to the old, little children and women”.

The Biden administration and the world had abandoned Israel, but that higher power had not.

[ahamkara-apologist]

All right gonna be going ham on this one for the character asks:

4, 14, 16 for Eramis

21, 22, 23 for Taniks

9 and 26 for Misraaks

MEGA ASK GAME SO I CAN PROCRASTINATE ON WRITING MY FIC YIPPEE!!

Eramis:

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

-Oh gosh, this one's difficult. I think, if I could choose, my first thought would probably be a book, because it allows for a lot more explainations and insights into her actions than what's apparent in game; just look at how stellar her lorebooks are for explaining her POV and her actions, and how many people in the fandom/playing the game still have zero idea what she's about because of it. For a second, though, a longform tv series would be stellar, because I'm fucking obsessed with all her little mannerisms and speaking inflections and a longform tv show would also allow for the nuances of her character to shine through in a way that isn't so easily ignored. But, since she's a morally grey lesbian, I feel like she'd be shit on and ignored anyways, because there's no winning with fandom

(I AM thinking about potentially making a lore video explaining Eramis's motives pre-Revenant, but given my lack of a professional microphone, editing skills, and time, that...may be a problem. But I want to do a lorevid explaining her character one day bc damnit she's D2's most nuanced and interesting antagonist apart from Savathun and I want to explore that)

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

-I know jack shit about fashion but she's a leather jacket motorcyclist 100%. Just look at her and try to tell me otherwise. You can't. Maybe she's got a side thing of spikes and collars and whatnot but she blends fashion and utility extremely well in her canon getup, so I can't imagine it would be much different otherwise

16. What's your least favorite ship for this character?

-I don't really think I have a least favorite ship, tbh- there's just not enough shipping for her to begin with. Maybe her x male characters* or her x anyone romantically after losing Athrys? But that's less of a dislike thing and more that with my hcs for her (+ her being canonically only attracted to women) and the fact that I just can't see her with anyone after losing Athrys. Too much trauma, depression, and rage for any relationships to bloom, her heart is salted soil, it just doesn't work

*I know I've said that I like the thought of her and Taniks as fuckbuddies before, but this is explicitly from the perspective of my indulgence hc that Taniks is closeted genderqueer (he/she), and that Eramis sought him out for sex explicitly because she wasn't attracted to her, so she wouldn't get flashbacks to Athrys mid-fuck. I would not call this any form of shipping as much as it is me being aro and trans and craving nonromantic sexual intimacy in fandom bc I'm frustrated about how difficult it is to get irl

Misraaks

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

-Jaxx ur trying to get me to talk more about the eggfic aren't you. Anyways my fav thing to write is Putting Him In Situations (of any kind!), while my least favorite thing to write is his dialogue. I keep forgetting that Misraaks has an Eliksni-accented way of wording things compared to, say, Eramis or Eido, and that trips me up when writing him- which is ironic, bc the way he speaks in canon is how I like to write a lot of my own prose, lol

WAIT THIS WAS FOR TANIKS MY BAD. Misraaks I'll get back to you in a bit bud

Taniks

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

-HIS MANNERISMS!! I love how ruthlessly fucking wild and feral he is in canon, enough that you'd think he's just off the shits insane, and yet the one (1) lore entry we get from his perspective indicates that he's actually a deeply cunning, intelligent, and proud Eliksni with a very strong (if twisted) sense of right and wrong and a deep disgust for the power structures that have brought his people to such lows. The face of Taniks that we see as the Young Wolf is that of a mindless, sadistic monster, but the one that we see when he's speaking to other Eliksni is a guy that I'd happily call comrade, would he not beat the everloving shit out of me for it. I love everything about the scraps we get of him in canon and I enjoy trying to fit those two sides of him together to get a nuanced individual who's still a guy that's basically an abused ex-circus chimp on ketamine while also giving little hints as to why he's Like That. Monsters are made, not born, and Taniks is not as much of a monster as we think he is.

What I don't like, like Misraaks, is writing his dialogue- albeit for different reasons. With Misraaks, what I worry about is getting his dialogue right, while for Taniks, it's getting the length of it correct. Like I said before, we only get one lore entry where we actually know what he's saying, so I don't actually know how talkative he is. So far, what I've been doing is having him monologue a lot when he's hyped up on something and near-silent when not, but I'm not quite sure if that's right. He spends way too long roaring unintelligibly at us in canon for me to know if he's actually chatty or just unimaginably furious at our existence

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to this character? Something you don't like?

-Buddy I don't think there's enough fics out there for me to have gathered anything I might dislike from them. I'm just happy to find one where he's in it, and actually plays a real role in things. I guess the closest that I can say is that I dislike how much of a niche character he is, because he's genuinely so fucking interesting, but he tends to get relegated to just a meme character and nothing more

23. Favorite picture of this character?

-This one. I love how he looks like a lazereyes reaction image sjkhfdgbksjdhfg. He's so fucking done with our shit

okay, now time for Misraaks

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

-Honestly yeah, I probably could. Misraaks just seems like a really chill guy to live with though, and Eido is an absolute cutie who's just like me in that she's ravenously curious about everything. I do think we'd butt heads a bit about letting her participate in potentially-dangerous scenarios (mostly bc I grew up with an overprotective, paranoid father so I feel Eido so hard), but he's a respectful guy and I think he'd understand that I need a lot of alone time to not go insane. The culture sharing would be a blast and I think that he's like me in that he hates drama, so apart from debates over Eido and him being all ashamed of his sordid past (which I don't give a shit about), we'd be cool

The hardest part would be not jumping his bones. I don't know if I could be normal about that. As I said before, I'm an aro trans man who craves a form of contact that isn't socially acceptable or easy to find among humans, and Misraaks is a big sweet calm nonjudgemental alien dilf who probably thinks all humans look weird, trans or not. The temptation is obvious here

26. What's something the character has done you can't get over? Be it something funny, bad, good, serious, whatever?

-HIS OBSESSION WITH ASHER MIR. IT WAS SO FUCKING FUNNY DJHBDGH. That and his friendship with Saint and Osiris (old man gang go!) and his hatred for Eramis are all things that I absolutely love about him. He's just a big reverent nerd of a man who doesn't want to talk about his college age years and I love that about him so so much

Character ask game here

[molkolsdal]

I photographed Zenith on the busy streets of her city, Lahore, in Pakistan, a few months ago. Looking around I could see that people were quite surprised to see a woman confidently riding a powerful motorcycle. Zenith is actually the first Pakistani female motorcyclist to ride across her country. Zenith’s father had a similar dream. He wanted to travel the world on a motorcycle. Tragically, he passed away when Zenith was just ten months old, leaving her with a void that only riding could fill. Inspired by her father’s dream, Zenith gradually developed a deep love for motorcycles. Initially she learned to ride so she could navigate the chaotic traffic while commuting to her high school. Later she had the chance to meet a community of male motorcyclists and, after hearing their stories, she started to dream about riding across all Pakistan. She clearly remembers how one of the motorcyclists told her that she will never be able to do that, as a woman. However, Zenith had a dream to fulfil, and in the end, nothing could stop her. For Zenith, riding is much more than a means of transport. It is a way of connecting with her father, of discovering herself and discovering her homeland. She now has a new dream: to start a touring company and help more women follow their passion for motorcycle. Zenith, may your rides be smooth, safe and filled with inspiration.

Mihaela Noroc

[mybeingthere]

Marta Minujin is an Argentinian conceptual artist famous for her performance pieces called "Happenings," which she also describes as "livable sculptures." She created her first "Happening" in 1963 in Paris where she had traveled on a scholarship to study. For this piece, she arranged mattresses along the Impasse Roussin then invited other artists, including Christo and Paul-Armand Gette, to destroy her display. Other "Happenings" include Suceso Plástico (1965)—an event that included motorcyclists, fat women, athletes, wedding couples wrapped in tape, young girls kissing audience members, and the artist herself arriving by helicopter to throw live chickens, lettuce, and flour over participants—and Interpenning (1972)—an interactive show at MoMA in New York that required participants to undergo a range of activities and sensory experiences.

Minujin's performances and artworks tackle many themes and issues, from politics to the definition of art to the way we perceive the world. She has won many awards for her work and continues to show her "Happenings" and other pieces at museums, fairs, and galleries around the world. She continues to stand by her belief that "everything is art.