My fingers slip somewhere around 87 miles per hour, skin on leather; rubber on asphalt. Raw, untamed power rumbling to life underneath my body and playfully threatening to kill me as we skid, skid, fly. Through the curves. Through the perfect weather. Through the perfect black smog settling down on the city this pretty Saturday afternoon. Things
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(The comment has been removed)
I've got a bunch of gunk saved in a secret place on my computer
But I doubt I could do a decent job with any fic hahaha
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(The comment has been removed)
Well, some standards
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