#footpegs

[solradguy]

I'm gonna print a 3" long Fire-Wheel tomorrow

[artofracing]

How can you Get the Right Europe Motorcycle Parts?

If you are looking for genuine Europe motorcycle parts, you may need to consider choosing the most trusted and reputed manufacturer, dealer, or retailer. It is because you will be capable of finding premium products at the lowest prices with them. They will usually have the right motorcycle part in Europe for the situation in stock for you. Be it a motorcycle chain, battery, sprocket kit, or motorcycle exhaust, you can find high-quality products with these people. Most of these retailers or dealers will usually have a comprehensive bike database to help you look for the right motorcycle part. These parts will be perfectly suitable for a wide range of motorcycle brands and models. If you are in search of universal Europe Motorcycle Parts, you can easily look through the categories of a well-established dealer or retailer. Every such dealer and retailer will usually have an official website, so you can find the motorcycle parts as well as accessories you need in a dedicated section on their websites. They will also have the most comprehensive collection of motorcycle parts online that will best fit the make and model of your motorcycle. Any reputed retailer or dealer might have selected OEM Motorcycle Performance Parts from leading brands. Each of their parts will offer the best value for your well-merited money, in addition to providing a long-lasting performance for your motorcycle. The main concern of these retailers or dealers will be quality rather than quantity. Moreover, they will ensure that they ship your order fast, so you get your motorbike performance parts quickly and safely from wherever on the earth you place your orders. You will get the highest quality as well as the most durable motorcycle performance parts from a trusted manufacturer. Their investment in a huge stock of such parts means that they will cover all major global brands. These manufacturers will also stock performance parts from the 1970s to right back to modern classics. Thus, you can rest guaranteed that you would get the right parts for the right model of your motorcycle, in addition to getting them at the highest quality and durability at the most competitive prices. Blog Source: https://artofracingeu.wordpress.com/2023/01/16/how-can-you-get-the-right-europe-motorcycle-parts/

[stargirlrchive]

HOLD ON w/ SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY

cw: i have had the worst, WORST, biker!simon brainrot bc of sun ( @tojisun ) and this insane post (gnawing at the bars of my enclosure) and also dbf!simon so here u go! age gap (reader over the age), naughty thoughts but no smut

NSFT ✩ MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)

GENERAL MASTERLIST

nerves caused your stomach to tighten as simon straddled his bike, your eyes glazing over his tattoos and taught muscles. his visor pulled up on his helmet with his balaclava underneath.

“come on, princess. you’ll be fine.”

you bit your lip, trying to rid yourself of the thoughts that ran rampant in your mind. for gods sake he was your father’s closest friend. he was twice your age.

you could feel an ache throb between your thighs as you pouted softly, “the helmets going to mess up my hair.”

he barked a laugh, his eyes subtly running down your exposed thighs as he shook his head, “no helmet, no ride.”

your stomach flipped at his words, hesitating for a few seconds before you slipped the helmet on. gripping onto his arm to throw your leg over the bike.

your thighs caging over his as you pressed yourself flush against him. your arms wrapped around his waist. “not too fast, si’.”

the engine roared to life and with it the steady pulse between your legs. he smelled so delectable. his body hard and big against yours. his cologne was so subtle but it filled your senses and your legs tried to squeeze around his.

one of his gloved hands caressed your thigh but the touch was gone before you could dwell on it.

“hold on.”

your arms tightened around his waist as he removed the footpeg, easily balancing the weight of both of you and the bike as he drove off.

a tiny noise of surprise left your mouth as you clung to him. your fingers subconsciously running down his abdomen and resting dangerously low as you tried to look over his shoulder to watch the pretty sunset as he drove the two of you.

due to the loud engine and roaring wind, you missed the groan that slipped from simon’s mouth. your heart hammered in your chest as he drove faster. you clung to him desperately as your eyes closed, as if that would protect you from the speed in which he was going.

when he finally came to a stop you swatted his helmet, “i said not to go too fast!”

“and i told you to hold on.”

his finger gently squeezed your thigh and then he was off again.

he drove the two of you for a while before stopping at a random restaurant, one you didn’t recognize you noted.

you clambered off his bike and he helped you remove your helmet, removing his after. you tried to fix your hair but despite it there was a bright smile on your face as you looked at him.

“that was so fun!”

you were practically bouncing on the balls of your feet, simon’s lips tugged upwards gently. he leaned forward and your eyes blinked up at him. his thumb brushed along your bottom lip and your mouth instinctively parted.

much to your disappointment, he only moved away a stray hair that you hadn’t tucked back. but you didn’t miss the way his eyes glazed over as he watched your mouth.

[kquil]

JAMES POTTER | 01:15 ⏤THE PRETTY MECHANIC

SUM. : james borrows sirius' new motorbike and ends up breaking down on the road, thankfully he remembers a mechanic shop nearby and heads straight for it - he doesn't expect to meet the prettiest mechanic there though

TAGS. : fluff ; modern au ; muggle au ; mechanic reader ; biker james ; reader is oblivious ; reader is just doing her job ; james being the love sick puppy that he is ; james is a loveable dork ; james breaks a promise ; sirius doesn't have to know ; legal vandalism? ; vandalisim is never legal kids ; don't try this at home ; james and sirius are BFFs!

LENGTH : 1.1k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

James was FUCKED!... 

He had borrowed Sirius’ new motorbike but now it was shutting down on him and he didn’t know what to do! This has never happened with his best friend’s previous bike before. That bike was easy to handle, not at the beginning, but over time, James had grown familiar with it and now that he was on a new bike, he didn’t even know where to begin with trying to remedy the issue – whatever the issue was! 

“Padfoot’s gonna kill me if his sweet new ride breaks down,” James’ voice shakes as he panics silently to himself, “and it’s all because of me…”

James remembers spending an entire week trying to convince Sirius to allow him the privilege of riding his new motorbike. A matte, all black Triumph Daytona 660. It was a beautiful ride, and one that Sirius was proud to own and made him promise to handle with the greatest care. Sirius’ love for the motor vehicle was contagious and made James just as much of a fanatic over bikes. James had his own Suzuki SV650 in red and black finish. 

Handling of Sirius’ Triumph was unparalleled, not only did it look artful on the road but it was also incredibly agile. The footpeg was well placed and, accompanied with the raised clip-on handlebars, the position it locks you in for a speedier cruise was so much more compelling compared to his Suzuki. The Triumph definitely didn’t shy away from staking its claim as a sports bike but that only meant it was more addicting to ride. 

And now, here James was…

After breaking down at the side of the road, he had been pushing and pushing the bike all the way into the previous town he had passed and was now on his way to the mechanic shop he had caught a small glimpse of when passing.  He worked up quite the sweat but didn’t pay it much attention; too worried over Sirius’ disappointment and anger. James made a promise to take care of his new motorbike and he had just broken said promise. Staring up at the mechanic sign, James took a breath and clung onto the slight hope that whatever happened could be fixed. 

“Damn,” the new voice makes James’ head snap towards the open garage of the shop, “is that your bike?” 

“Uh…” James struggles to form any words because, how could he when you were staring at him with such pretty eyes and sweet-looking lips? When you were dressed in the typical motorbike mechanic overall-type uniform, all black and clearly oversized, swamping your figure in the most adorable way. Just a moment ago his heart had been racing in fear of Sirius’ fury but now it was racing for an entirely different reason. You’re so pretty… pretty and with the kindest eyes. Your lips are moving… so you’re probably talking to him right now but he can’t hear anything when his eyes are so focused on the way your lips shape around different words. Oh! But he bets your voice sounds as pretty as you so he should probably start listening to you again. 

“--ou okay?” you finish with worried eyes and James could only guess what you were just saying. 

“Y-yeah!..” he bashfully turns away from your gaze, “Sorry about that,”

“It’s alright,” when he turns back to you again, James has to stop himself from sighing dreamily and openly drooling over just how pretty you were. But you were smiling at him! And so sweetly too that his insides melt around the butterflies fluttering around his stomach, “what can we do for you today?”

“My uhh…my friend’s bike. I was just borrowing it and it broke down a few miles from here,” he admits as a frown marks his features with guilt and despair, “I-I don’t know what could be wrong with it…”

“Don’t worry,” James watches you tilt your head in a gesture of welcoming him inside, “we’ll can take a look for you,” if James thought you were pretty before, now he think you’re angelic – he can’t help but believe in your words fully and feel all his worries wash away, banished by the shine of your bright smile and warm gaze, “I’m sure we’ll get you back on the road in no time!”

Forget melting into a puddle, James was evaporating into mist! 

The problem with Sirius’ Triumph Daytona 660 was that it ran out of fuel and James was too busy panicking and stressing over being a bad friend for breaking his promise. That was the good news, the bad news was that he totally just embarrassed himself in front of the cute motorbike mechanic AND now he has no reason to ever see you again! 

Desperate times call for desperate measures…  

…James faces his Suzuki SV650 with his well beloved hockey stick in hand. A sacrifice has to be made and he doesn’t mind it being his bike. Should he aim for the front light or the back? He read somewhere that submerging the engine in water whilst running it would get water in and the air intake wouldn’t be able to compress in the cylinders and end up bending the conrods and smashing the valves. The pool would work for that one.

James looks at his hockey stick again before making a final decision. He can do this for now and when you fix his bike, he can say he ‘accidentally rode his bike into his pool’. Yeah that would work! James raises his arms above his head, aiming for the front light of his Suzuki and takes a breath before swinging down—

“James!” Sirius’ panicked shout makes him seize up entirely, his powerful swing down paused mid-air, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” his best friend had been staying over and was wondering what he had been doing spending so much time in the garage and came walking into an unfathomable scene. 

“Uhhh…” I want to see the pretty mechanic again! 

“The ‘pretty’ what?” Sirius pulls a disbelieving face. This was all for a girl?... It’s not surprising considering the way James used to act around Lily but vandalising his own motorbike? 

Shit! I said that out loud.

“Yes, yes you did…” James can’t bring himself to answer. However, he didn’t have to as Sirius stalks over to the toolbox and grabs a wrench. He didn’t even need to explain himself. Both share a smile before beginning to do a number on his once very beloved Suzuki. 

“Thanks Siri,” panting, James wipes the sweat off his brow and faces his best friend with a boyish grin. Out of everyone else in the world, of course Sirius would have his back and not ask questions–

“Wait– why were you at the mechanics in the first place?”

“Uhhh….”

“James?...”

A/N : like most of my timestamps, i wrote this incredibly sleep deprived but inspired and couldn't wait so here you darlings go <3 please forgive any spelling or grammatical mistakes and i hope you enjoy the fluff hehe~

NAVI.

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt

@notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88 @fallencrescentmoon @topaz125 @xxrougefangxx @starchaser-lily @probablypossesedbysatan @agent-tempest @veryberryjelly @th3-st4r-gur1 @sousydive @delusional-4-fake-people @linaax @girl-detective16 @riaa-moony @ericityyy @ahukk0 @ghostgardn @rosalyn-s @seungtelevision

[anitalianfrie]

them fucking on the bike please please please please

sigh... here. take this mediocre porn that took me like three hours to write

for the purpose of this fic, all the laws of physics and actual sizes of the bikes are ignored. let's just pretend it works.

Valentino falls on top of Marc, heavy, using his whole body to weight the other man down. Their mouth meet, sloppy, wet, while their hands tug at the clothes, hungry, angry, fast and heavy and clumsy in an attempt of revealing more skin. 

As soon as they start, Marc always gets needy. Opens his legs wide, wide, inviting Valentino between them, closer, inside, hot and soft and sweet, whimpering and needy, and Valentino... he’s only a man.  

He tugs at Marc’s shirt to get it up while they kiss, to touch the flesh and the muscles and the bones, chests pressed against each other, and Marc crosses his legs behind Vale’s back and brings their crotches together. Valentino can feel how hard the other man already is, hot and heavy in his pants, and he has to stop and breath, pant in Marc’s mouth, while he reaches down to clumsily tug down their underwear. 

Marc looks... He looks- insane. Discomposed. Mouth red and lucid and wide open, while he runs his hands up and down Vale’s back. While he reaches down to stroke them together, still half in their pants, closing his eyes and moaning softly. And Vale can’t do anything but reach up with his hand, pushing his fingers against Marc’s lips, until he opens up wide and starts sucking, face sweaty and red and eyes almost black, staring at him. 

In between the kisses, Valentino starts fingering him, fingers deep inside his hole. Marc always gets greedy, even after only one finger. He wants more, more, more, wants to be filled, split open, moaning for it like a bitch in heat, and at every plead Vale feels more and more lightheaded, out of control.  

He’s about to push in, his head catching against Marc’s rim, slipping from the wetness of saliva and lube, when Marc pants, hard and hot in his ear. “Can we do it on the bike?” 

Valentino’s brain fills with statics. He can’t- He- His head bobbles up and down before he’s able to properly think of an answer, of anything really. Yes yes yes.  

He gets off Marc and down to the foot of his bed, where he keeps his M1. The leather of the seat is cold against his skin, against his dick, and he can’t resist stroking himself while he watches Marc trailing behind him, getting to the bike, cock red and heavy in between his thighs.  

Marc gets his hands on Vale’s shoulders, swinging a leg up to straddle him, when Vale stops him. He shakes his head. His mouth is dry.  

“Like if you were riding.” 

A light flickers in Marc’s eyes. 

He puts his hands on the bike, a foot on the footpeg, and swings a leg over the seat, ass up in the air. Valentino’s mouth waters. He grabs Marc by his hips, pulling him down, slowly, slowly, until his dick is rubbing against the curve of Marc’s ass, red in the middle of soft pink. Marc whines, loudly, and then even more when Vale says, “You’re a whore” and slaps him, the meat under his hand jiggling. 

His dick catches against Marc’s rim, and he can hear Marc’s breath hitching. He’s so desperate for it, so much it makes Valentino’s head spin. Slowly, ever so slowly, he keeps pulling Marc down, looking at where his ass opens to take his dick in.  

As soon as Marc is fully seated, split open on his cock, like he wanted, he arches his back and moans. He tries to move, to fuck himself deeper, and Vale allows it, indulging him, squeezing the meat of Marc’s hips. Marc changes angle, and starts to bounce up and down Vale’s dick, the round globes of his ass jiggling. 

Valentino can’t see it, but the mere thought of Marc’s hand, knuckles white against the blue of his bike, his M1, the bike he won a championship on, in the attempt of getting fucked, makes him go crazy, leaves him with nothing but statics in his brain. He wants to keep Marc in his bedroom forever, naked and open, ready to get fucked at every hour of the day. To see him fucking himself on the bike, bouncing up and down a dildo, begging for him. For Valentino. And Vale- Vale would. Always. 

Marc moans, whiny, like a plead, and Valentino realises: it’s not enough. They need- he needs-more. He pushes Marc down, flat against the bike, ass up, and starts fucking into him. Marc looks so small against the bike. Against the blue. Soft moans leave his lips at every thrust, and Valentino can’t do anything but look transfixed at the point where their bodies meet, where Marc is wide open just for him. 

Marc tries to move, to meet back his thrusts, while they get more and more uncoordinated, while the control starts slipping from his fingers. Vale realizes he must be rubbing his dick against the leather of the seat, in the hope of coming. He can feel the heavy sound of his breath in his ears. 

Marc starts saying his name, like a prayer, out of breath, voice hitching and breaking with the moans. Valentino prays back, losing his rhythm, chasing his own pleasure, pounding into Marc while he arches his back and then after, when he moans loudly and goes limp, grabbing the meat of Marc’s ass so hard it goes white. Marc replies with soft, sensitive whines, his body trembling. 

Valentino goes still he comes, buried into Marc, eyes rolling to the back of his skull. He grabs Marc by the waist and pulls him up, against his chest, using one of his shoulders to rest his chin. He looks at the blue of his bike, now painted white by Marc’s come. His dick, still inside Marc, twitches, making a valiant attempt at getting hard again. 

Marc collapses against him, smile on his lips, panting, his chest moving up and down to help him catch his breath. 

“We should do this again.” 

Valentino laughs, breathless. His lips are stretched thin by a smile. 

“Yeah. We really should.” 

[funnier-when-objectum]

i think the best part of riding a motorcycle is the intimacy of it all. weaving through traffic at unholy speeds in a full sport tuck, having to grip the frame with just my knees and thighs and use the rest of my body to dart nimbly into split second openings between the relatively slow and lumbering cars; moving in tandem with my machine, as if it were choreographed, to smoothly slide into and out of maneuvers, while we carry a conversation through the handlebars and footpegs (less an operator piloting an object and more lovers giving and taking in equal measure to find a certain harmony in velocity). i feel the singing of the engine through the fuel tank and into my chest, letting her embrace every curve in my body just as she lets me hang on to hers, and that moment theres no difference between the motorcycle and her rider, for one lapse in communication between one or the other will just bring both crashing to the pavement below

and the aftercare! pulling back into the garage, letting us both take a moment to cool down, before carefully inspecting every mechanism and structure, cleaning and repairing and topping up fluids and running checks on the electricals -- i am expected to maintain her in top condition if i expect her to keep me safe going faster than any squishy organic was designed to go, after all -- there is a certain level of trust to being allowed to run my fingers along her internals and diagnose and replace critical components.

i mean. hi i like ur blog sorry

honestly one of the best parts of running this blog is getting asks like this from people who are attracted to objects i'm not personally attracted to about their love for and intimacy with those objects. this is so beautiful, thank you for sharing it with me! and i'm glad you like this blog!

[motocorsas]

apparently joe dropped out of the lead due to a false neutral. ironically, that was also what caused cameron beaubier to crash out at COTA 2 years ago. plenty of other riders crash or lose positions for similar reasons, but why?

false neutrals aren't very common in most classes because they use specially-built racing gearboxes for which the gearing order starts with neutral, then one, two, etc. but on a moto2 bike, as on a road bike, neutral is between first and second gear. as such, it's possible to accidentally or unknowingly shift into neutral when trying to upshift/downshift between those two gears. what this looks like physically is failing to move the footpeg completely - you have to give two kicks instead of one, which isn't always easy.

however, this is going to change! triumph re-upped their deal with Dorna in 2023 and will debut a new gearbox in 2025. crash.net explains here:

while the engine won't change, the new gearbox eliminates the risk of false neutrals and will hopefully reduce the likelihood of mistakes like joe's today.

[gabessquishytum]

smapril day 16 - "You're filthy."

"You're filthy, lover." Dream flutters his dark eyelashes appealingly. "You should take off your clothes."

Hob sighs deeply and smears his hands on the (already stained) front of his shirt. Grease and filth is smudged on his cheeks, his forehead, his hands. His clothes are obviously ruined.

"Hmm. Sometimes I think you've got an ulterior motive for getting me to fix up your bike." Hob pulls the shirt over his head and blooms, as always, under Dream’s appreciative gaze. 

Dream saunters over. He's spotless in his silky dark dressing gown. The damned thing has fluffy sleeves and everything. "Perhaps. Perhaps I think my Ducati deserves a little special attention now and then."

"I think you're the Ducati, in this metaphor." Hob smirks. "Does your footpeg want adjusting, baby? Or is it your wheel rim, this time?"

Dream loops his arms around Hob’s sweaty neck and presses a wet, open mouthed kiss to each of his pecs. "I want you to take another look at my rear fender. Please."

At this request, Hob gives into the temptation and slides his hands onto Dream’s buttocks, underneath his silly robe. He squeezes the skinny little arse in his filthy hands while Dream keens and rubs up on him like the desperate slut he is.

"Better take you off to the garage, hadn't I?" He smirks. "You'd just better hope that the neighbours don't hear your engines whining, eh?"

Dream groans at that particular piece of vehicle imagery, but wraps his legs around Hob’s waist all the same. He can feel the throb of Hob’s cock through his jeans and he wiggles happily. Getting dirty really isn't a problem. Particularly when Hob is around to clean him up afterwards.

[umseb]

Hardcore Cycles Builds a Championship-Caliber Chopper for Sebastian Vettel

In case you weren’t tuning in this past weekend, Sebastian Vettel bludgeoned the Formula 1 field one last time for 2013 at the Interlagos circuit in Sao Paolo, Brazil. In doing so, the 26-year-old German phenom tied the records for the most grand prix wins in a single season (13) and the most grand prix wins in succession (nine, with a chance to set a new record if he can win the 2014 season opener). Not a bad way to end the season of your fourth consecutive world championship. So, how does Infiniti Red Bull Racing’s superstar shoe plan to spend his off season? Well, we’d guess he’ll be spending some time with family and friends, and enjoying being able to sleep in on the weekends. But we also wouldn’t be surprised if the self-professed motorcycle nut spends at least a little time riding the sweet chopper you see here.

Built by Vettel’s countryman Marcus Walz and his team at Hardcore Cycles, this regal blue bike was actually built in 2011 to commemorate Seb’s first world championship in 2010. But other than the rear fender art denoting only the 2010 title and Vettel’s car number from that season – 5 – on the stylized lower leading edge of the frame, this proper chopper (based on Hardcore Cycles’ Dragstyle model) looks bang-up-to-date. The spokes of the one-off wheels incorporate Vettel’s personal logo, as does the embroidery on the Alcantara saddle. The heads of the rumbling V-twin engine feature carbon fiber detailing, and the swoopy airbox is also carbon fiber and is emblazoned with the German flag and “S. Vettel,” just like the champ’s office. In addition to the deep blue paint that matches that of the Red Bull F1 cars, both sides of the gas tank features pinstriping that forms the outline of the energy drink conglomerate’s charging bull logo. And a list of the tracks that comprised the 2010 F1 schedule encircles the seat. Throw in all the other cool touches you expect to find on a Walz design (such as the lovingly machined, drilled gearshift and clutch arms and footpeg supports) and you have a bitchin’ belt-drive bike that any motorcycle enthusiast – super successful racecar driver or otherwise – would be proud to own. Is this bike the reason Vettel keeps on winning? Don’t be silly; his prodigious talent, dedication to his craft, dedication from the team, and some truly kickass car designs from the fertile mind of Adrian Newey are the sources of the kid’s success. However, that’s not to say that wanting to finish races as quickly as possible so he can get home and go for a ride sooner doesn’t have anything to do with his dominance…

[expressghost]

"I bought it just before the limited edition was released. It was a good bike for touring, but sparks would fly from the footpegs..."

[porcelain-tongue]

silhouette of the moon

goodnight pure love, in the dew and the dark the crystallized path to the moon is through the sea you stand at the crest of our hill feed me with stalwart and honeyed spoonfuls the deluge when the screen door clapped shut after the storm, a limpid climax

i take all that is yours your kiss to my neck stirs agua viva, eternal to my soft tits, a small gasp— the crack of my neck awakens a familiar death i have died for a thousand lovers and mocked their promises.

do you see the white horse who stands below the crest of the hill? he knows only of those who have treated him well and of those who run bristled brush through wild mane. maybe his secret place is yours to claim. through the barbed fence you must have turned on the lights they are distant and still

a hideaway is a simple dream for those who resist desire.

the sun rises but the path is no longer clear the moon is a better guide for love and gasping panic; a mistress with secrets textured.

grim ink spills in two moments— nine degrees north of the crimson override switch and when sea foam returns the love it has stolen to the boiling sand the tides at sunrise are still ours; the moon is nervous the sun will find her, and so a silhouette pulls me down, bruises my thigh if only the mistress taught me to swim to recondite places to pull my knee to my chest and stand with no hands

but i am no student i become the current that pulls you to darkness i am the silhouette, i fear the sun will expose me i fear that you will, too

i needed to wrap my arms around you electrify your pectorals with virgin fingers but you ride fast and balance on footpegs as if you are the jungle itself, as if you are fucking me from behind your tenderness a net of breathless surrender i sliced you in half with a towel for the blood one for now, one for tomorrow if there is time will saltwater clean your wound? will words free me of ancient vices?

if you awaken from pure sleep find me in another dream we dance in 5/4 rhythm on the tapestry of time your benevolent hands meet the shores of my waist you will understand the ways of the moon watch her nudge the tides to shore then flee from the radiance of the sun.

[biggestdev]

Love this commission @prowlsart / @nonbinaryrobot did for me! Soon I'll be able to wear this gear IRL, I got jealous of all the people out riding already, so I put the battery back in my bike and turned it over:

40 years young and still runs like it's brand new!

... OK, maybe not quite. It idles TERRIBLY until the engine is hot, pretty sure it'll be good once I change the oil and filter, and I also need to re-lube the chain and mount the saddle bags before it's road ready.

Oh, and the electric starter only works sometimes. And the shifter pedal sticks, and the neutral indicator comes on sometimes when it's not in neutral, and I have to fix the footpegs, and, and, andandandan-

The curse of the project "car". Can't wait!

[advpulse]

Lately, we've been racking up miles on the new Suzuki V-Strom 1050DE. This year Suzuki has put more focus on dirt performance incorporating features like a 21" front wheel along with increased suspension travel and ground clearance, a more-rigid swingarm and subframe, serrated footpegs, a new Gravel ride mode, and more. In order to get a better sense of the bike’s off-road capabilities, we replaced the stock street-biased tires with a set of Heidenau K60 Ranger (70% Dirt / 30% street) Dual Sport tires. This made a significant improvement in loose terrain that allowed us to push the 1050DE's limits with greater confidence. Yet they still gave us plenty of grip on the street for some spirited riding in the twisties. Plus they're quiet on the highway too! For more details on the K60 Ranger, check out our full review at bit.ly/ridek60ranger and stay tuned for more details from our V-Strom test!

[anitalianfrie]

By the way bez's little pre race rituals are so cute kiss the bike touch the footpeg touch the other footpeg the left hand does a thing to the left handle. I love his neurotic little ass

[watercolourcritters]

baby, we were born to run

watercolour and ink on paper, based on this stunning reference photo

[ID: a watercolour painting of Edward Teach from Our Flag Means Death in a modern au. He is riding a red Yamaha Virago motorcycle from the ‘90s, and stands with one foot propped on the footpeg, holding one hand up to shade his eyes and looking behind himself with a small smile on his face. He wears jean shorts, a black v-neck crop top with a small bow, a cropped red leather jacket, black fingerless leather gloves, and bright red high heels that match the coat. He also wears red lipstick and red nail polish in a matching shade. Tentacle tattoos curl across one thigh and up his torso, along with an eagle tattoo on his collarbone. He has a full beard, and his grey hair has been teased into a large mass of curls. Behind Edward and the motorcycle is a wall covered in green vines with red flowers, and a blue sky. The dark red flowers tie in with the red of the bike, and the red of Edward’s jacket, heels, lipstick and nail polish. End ID.]

This took me probably about 20 hours, and I have sworn off painting motorcycles for a very long time haha! Thinking about making prints of this one, let me know if any of y’all would be interested :) Close ups of his face and thigh tattoos under the cut!

[ID: two close ups of the above painting, one showing Edward’s face and torso from the waist up, and the other showing his thigh, heels, and the engine of the motorcycle. End ID.]

I’m especially pleased with his tentacle tattoos, they turned out much better than hoped! And with the motorcycle to be honest, it’s definitely not 100% accurate but it’s the first machine I’ve ever really painted/drawn. And a super tiny detail that didn’t show up in the scan - his necklace is painted with silver paint, and shines in the sunlight :D