#car races
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1935 Germany Grand Prix, Nuvolari in the winning Alfa Romeo - Nicholas Watts
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Racetrack of the future.
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Do You Love Car Shows Too?
A car show is a gathering of automotive enthusiasts where cars, from vintage classics to cutting-edge supercars, are displayed for admiration and competition. It’s like a fashion show, but for cars, where owners showcase their customized and restored vehicles. These events bring people together to share stories, knowledge, and their passion for the automobile industry. It all started when I…
#car races#car shows#car shows for cinematographers#car shows for photographers#car shows in Australia#Friendship#fun at car shows#how car shows changed my life#life lessons#my love for car show#Self Improvement#stories#technology
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MuscleCar 1/4 mile Drag Racing 3.69 Seconds at Toronto Motorsport
This Summer Muscle Car September 2024 Weekend Event at Toronto Motorsport concludes the summer and moves towards the Fall. Watch to the end to get a treat! Enjoy The Video!
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my brother, very into f1 and desperate: please make an iliad f1 au
me: huh
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Hear me out, Michael would think Roxy is SICK AF
#myart#chloesimagination#comic#fnaf#five nights at freddy's#michael afton#fnaf vanessa#fnaf vanny#fnaf roxy#roxanne wolf#security breach#fnaf fanart#Guys just walk with me for a moment#MICHAEL would think Roxy is super cool#he’s a foxy liker after all so natural evolution is Roxy#BUT Roxy is an 80s rocker who drives race cars and wears sunglasses etc#it’s like right up Michael’s alley#on top of all that her personality#she’s mean a bully even but is deeply insecure#not only that but she’s actually lowkey very sweet and cares about folks#like Michael would relate to her#It’s not even he finds her attractive or anything like that it’s purely she’s badass and related to her#Michael and Cassie number 1 Roxy fans out here#Also Vanessa might not be as much of a fan#but its because she works with them all the time BAHA#THE Glamrocks are canon divas#the 80s punk kid in Michael just took hold Roxy is simply cool to em
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Remember Ken Carter? The Mad Canadian -- Des and Jean Moore Clippings
Des and Jean Moore Clippings thanks to the Moore gals. SOME PEOPLE make a decent wage racing automobiles while others sell them. And, of course, there are still others who put in their regular 40 hours, plus a little overtime here and there, repairing what those of us who don’t know better, do to cars. And then there’s Ken Carter, a Canadian. He jumps automobiles over school buses. Let me repeat…
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#car races#Carleton-Place#cars#daredevil#evil kenieval#genealogy#History#ken carter#Lanark-County#mad canadian#Mississippi mills#ontario#racing#stunt drivers
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Does it ever drive you crazy …
… just how fast the night changes?
#i’m so emotional#he kneeled to a car again 😭#f1#formula 1#formula one#sebastian vettel#sv5#imola gp 2024#ayrton senna#red bull racing#red bull f1
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M U S T A N G.
#Mustang#vintage cars#vintage#retro cars#retro aesthetic#muscle car#race car#sports cars#fast cars#cars#car#black car#automotive#automobile#vehicle#style#toya's tales#toyastales#toyas tales#car design#car detailing#october#fall aesthetic#fall vibes#fall#vroomvroom#car go vroom
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1932 Mille Miglia - Michael Wright
the winning Alfa Romeo of Borzacchini and Bignam
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Wait.. aren’t I supposed to sit on your hood or something.. before you start taking pictures? 🏁🏎️💨
#hooters racing#car model#PSD clothing#Nopi girl#car girl#trans#transgender#trans pride#transisbeautiful#mtf#transgirl#girlslikeus#mtf hrt#maletofemale#transformation#trans women are beautiful#trans women#trans woman#transsexual#trans positivity#trans people#trans sex worker#this is what trans looks like#trans experience#trans feminine#trans girl#trans community#actually mtf#mtf positivity#mtf pride
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race car driver steve and pit crew eddie
flirting during pit stops. always seems like it’s going to lead somewhere but never does. eventually, as he’s heading to the track, steve tells eddie he’ll take him out *when* he wins. not if.
—
“she handles fine”
“can’t say the same thing about me”
“yeah?”
“hm”
“i think i could handle you”
“you say that to all the crew?”
“just the pretty ones”
—
“all oiled up and ready to go?”
“always for you harrington.
.. oh you mean the car”
“yeah, munson—the car. i already make enough pit stops as is.”
—
“we have a problem.”
“what? why what’s wrong??”
“you didn’t say anything about my outfit”
“…
turn around for me.
it makes your rear view look, *fantastic*”
“call my ass ‘my rear view’ again-“
“HEY! you ASKED THIS TIME”
“YEAH. *THIS TIME*”
—
“that engine isn’t the only thing i’m good at revving up.”
“…is that- are you-“
*shrug*
“UGH. i hate that that worked. that was TERRIBLE.”
“:)”
see, when steve finally gets the guts to actually commit to being serious, to genuinely asking eddie out afterwards, win or not, it goes a little something like this…
“Racers, please make your way to the start line.”
“Eddie?” He walks over as Steve pushes his helmet over his head, flattening his coiffed hair.
“Yeah?”
“After this race, when I win,” Oh, oh, is this going where he thinks it’s going? Is this Steve finally taking a chance on this grease rat? Surely n- “Would you let me take you out for dinner…?”
Eddie blinks at him, staring at his honey-brown eyes boring into him, from the tiny opening in his helmet.
“Yes,” his brain seems to reboot and gather enough coherence to spit out an answer, “Yeah, yes, please.” He can tell Steve smiles at him from the way the corners of his eyes crinkle. “I’d like that.”
“Cool,” Steve snaps his chin strap and tightens it. As he goes to slip on his gloves, Eddie walks up to him. He grabs onto the strap and tightens it himself just to make sure.
“Good luck,” he says, gripping Steve’s shoulder for a moment.
“Don’t need it, but thanks,” playfully snarky, he bends and gets into the car. Eddie laughs at the antics and backs up further into the pit, matching Steve’s cute little wave before he drives away.
For the first time in a long time, Eddie couldn’t care less about winning. He can’t wait for this to be over; the real prize is a long-awaited date.
But, until then, it’s game time.
—
Watching the screen in the pit till the racers turn the corner and come into view. Eddie keeps a close eye on his car—Steve’s kept good pacing most of the leg, leading a few laps, too. He’s due back for a stop soon, but until he can get out of the way of the other racers, they’re too packed for him to make any sort of maneuver. When those cars get like that, Eddie feels like he’s on the edge of a freefall. Not actually, because nothing ever happens, but it feels like something will. Every time.
Besides the scars and a dusty jumpsuit somewhere, that’s the only thing that sticks around from Eddie’s crash. Because that’s what it was, a crash. And a bad one. A side hit that jerked him into another, airborne before rolling, and rolling, and rolling. Getting pulled out, dazed and bleeding, while flames and sirens roared in his ears.
And although there’s more protection and safety precautions now, it still doesn’t make that night any better.
Steve makes another lap. He’s still boxed in close—extremely close. It’s a recipe for disaster, and they all know it.
Eddie’s eyes dart to the pack of cars crossing into his field of vision, and he sees it, someone side hits someone. Someone jerks–and clips 86.
It happens in slow motion. Like becoming untethered—realizing, yeah, you’re in freefall. The world feels like it’s moving at 1/8th the pace. Steve flies over the other drivers and into the catch fences.
Eddie barely registers he’s already moving into the pit track.
86 spins out, absolutely streded to the barebones. Slowing only to get hit again and into the run-off.
“STEVE!” Eddie’s out, running full speed to the remaining inners of the car. Static and ringing fills his ears. He can feel the way his heart is threating to fucking beat out of his goddamn chest. A mantra of “nononononono. not again. not to him,” screaming in his head.
For a speedway packed with people and maxed out speakers, it’s eerily quiet to him. Everything falling away, feeling sureal, like this is some fucked up nightmare—till he gets his hand on the smoking car. Noise comes rushing back all at once, too loud.
“STEVE!” voice gone hoarse, he yells out into the metal. He can see his vision blurring with tears, fear creeping onto him a tenfold. Eddie ducks down and looks into the smashed up window.
“I’m here!” It’s muffled, but at least he can see the dark tracksuit as the source. Eddie frantically reaches for Steve’s hand, and when he gets it clasped in his own, he tugs.
“I’m okay.” A feeble attempt to reassure him, he’ll believe those words from Steve Harrington when he sees it for himself.
Steve coughs as he puts his other hand on the edge of the door and tries to reef himself out. And Eddie tries to help out the best he can. About halfway out, Steve shifts and lets go.
Logically—well, not logically actually, Eddie’s acting on pure adrenaline at this point, all logic out the window—Steve’s just getting his hands under him rather than over, more leverage that way. But Eddie needs. to. get. him. out. of the car that’s currently on fucking fire.
As soon as Steve starts moving again, Eddie’s already wrapped his arms around his chest and is pulling him the rest of the way out. He kneels in front of him and tries to unclasp the strap. Hands so shaky, he can barely get his fingers to push down before gloved hands push them away. While he attempts to help Steve yank his helmet off, it’s feeble. That golden hair flops out, and the helmet gets tossed to the side; Eddie roams his hands over Steve’s face, looking for any visible damage.
Suddenly, warm hands circle his wrists, and Steve makes him meet his eyes.
The world comes bursting back in.
“-ddie? Hey? I’m okay. I’m okay. I promise, I’m okay-“
His face is wet. He’s practically in Steve’s lap, too. One of those hands drop his wrist and cup the back of head.
“Eddie. I’m okay,” Steve says. God, the sound that punches it’s way out of his chest sounds inhuman even in his ears.
There, a few feet away from the pile of rubble, Eddie engulfs Steve in his arms, tucking his face into the neck of old leather. He can feel Steve finally let go of him to give the cameras and the crew that surrounds them, a one handed thumbs up.
Eddie can’t help let out a soft laugh with Steve at the collective sigh of relief. He gets that arm wrapped back around him, giving him a tight squeeze. Steve ducks his face over to talk into his ear, “I’m okay. I’ll have a hell of a bruise no doubt, but I promise I’m okay.”
“Fucking better be,” Eddie mutters as he pulls away, hastily wiping his face. Steve huffs at him.
“Are *you* okay?”
“You did not just ask me that.” Eddie pushes himself off the man, offering Steve his hands and hoisting him up, too. He tests his footing, and it's shaky–something is definitely hurting.
“Eddie…” The fucker has the audacity to turn those sad down-turned puppy eyes on him. Steve knows how bad his wreak was, and it fits him too, to care more about Eddie than himself.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m standing, aren’t I?” Steve gestures a bit, Medic in his ear asking him to follow her. Because they’re still in the middle of the run-off, the game paused till Steve gets the okay, and they continue without him anyway.
“Does that sound reassuring to you?” Eddie crosses his arms.
“Hey-“ Steve shrugs, “-couldn’t miss our date, right?”
And, honest to god, Eddie would throttle him right now. But he can’t.
So, he does the next best thing.
Eddie Munson, pit crew of 86 and crash survivor, crosses the couple steps between him and Steve Harrington, current 86 racer and, hopefully, his boyfriend, and kisses him.
“I’m holding you to that.”
Steve smiles wide and pivots with his hand out for Eddie to take. And Eddie does.
They start following the Medic, but Steve turns around and flashes his goofy grin again, giving everyone in the stadium a thumbs-up.
Eddie laughs as the crowd roars.
#steddie#eddie munson#stranger things#steve harrington#steve x eddie#archive#my writing#race car driver steve harrington#modern au#pit crew eddie munson#but also#race car driver eddie munson
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Shifting gears - LN4
*:・゚ Summary: Lando and you, childhood best friends, discover a deeper connection during a drive in his new Porsche. After discussing his playboy image, the conversation takes an unexpected turn, leading to a realization of long-hidden feelings and shifting your relationship from friendship to something more romantic and intimate.
*:・゚ Word count: 2250
masterlist / community / request
౨ৎ
The afternoon sun filtered through the tall trees that lined the road, casting dappled shadows over the sleek Porsche as it cruised effortlessly along the winding asphalt. The roar of the engine was almost hypnotic, a perfect blend of power and control, much like its owner. Lando Norris gripped the steering wheel with ease, his fingers drumming absentmindedly as he glanced over at his passenger—his best friend, someone who had been by his side since they were kids.
While Lando had built a reputation for himself as a playboy—charming, confident, and always with a new girl on his arm—you were the complete opposite. Introverted, quiet, and shy. But that’s what made your friendship so special. You balanced each other out.
Today, though, something felt a little different. Maybe it was the car, the air of freedom and luxury it represented, or maybe it was the conversation you were having that shifted the mood. Either way, the usual playful banter between the two of you had taken a slightly more serious turn.
“So, who’s the flavor of the week this time?” you teased, your voice light but carrying a hint of genuine curiosity as you shifted in the leather seat.
Lando chuckled, a low, throaty sound that seemed to vibrate through the car. “Not sure yet. You know how it is,” he replied with a smirk, his eyes never leaving the road.
You rolled your eyes, but there was no judgment in your expression. “Yeah, I know exactly how it is. You with some random girl, one night, maybe two if she’s lucky, and then you’re off to the next. It’s like you’re collecting trophies or something.”
He shrugged. “It’s not that bad. I’m just… having fun. Life’s short, you know?”
You snorted softly. “For you, maybe. I can’t even imagine doing that. Just… being with someone like that, without any meaning. Doesn’t it get old?”
Lando raised an eyebrow, finally glancing over at you. “Why, you thinking about trying it out?” he teased, though his tone carried a hint of something deeper, something that wasn’t quite a joke.
Your face flushed, and you quickly turned to look out the window, trying to hide the sudden rush of heat that crept up your neck. “No,” you muttered, “I’m not like that.”
Silence filled the car for a moment, the hum of the engine the only sound between you. Lando’s eyes flickered back to the road, but his expression was thoughtful now, less playful than usual. “You don’t always have to be so… sweet, you know,” he said after a beat, his voice quieter, almost serious. “It’s okay to let loose sometimes. It doesn’t make you any less… you.”
You blinked, surprised by his words. He wasn’t wrong; you were the “sweet” one, the one who always cared too much, worried too much. But hearing Lando say it so bluntly made you feel strangely vulnerable, like he could see right through your carefully crafted exterior.
“Yeah, well, I’m not the one who’s constantly in the tabloids for having one-night stands with half the population,” you shot back, the words harsher than you intended.
Lando laughed, though there was a sharpness to it. “Touché. But you know, it’s not as glamorous as people make it out to be.”
You frowned, turning back to him. “What do you mean? You always seem like you’re having the time of your life.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, it’s fun, I guess. But it’s not… real, you know? It’s just… I don’t know. It’s easy. I’m used to it.”
For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You had never heard him talk like this before, so openly about the lifestyle he had embraced. It wasn’t like him to get deep, not about this.
“Then why do you keep doing it?” you asked quietly.
Lando glanced at you, and for the first time, you saw something different in his eyes. Something almost… uncertain.
“Because it’s easier than thinking about what I really want,” he said softly.
The words hung in the air between you, heavy and loaded with meaning. You swallowed, unsure of how to respond, your heart suddenly racing for reasons you couldn’t quite explain.
“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Lando didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulled the car off the main road, slowing down as he drove into a secluded spot overlooking a lake. The car came to a stop, and the silence that followed was deafening. He turned off the engine, and the two of you sat there, the tension in the air thick and palpable.
“I mean…” Lando began, his voice low, almost hesitant, “I’ve been with a lot of girls, sure. But none of them were ever you.”
Your breath hitched in your throat. “What?”
He turned in his seat to face you fully, his expression serious now, his usual cocky smirk replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. “You. You’re different. You always have been.”
Your mind was racing, trying to process his words, but all you could focus on was the way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.
“But we’re… friends,” you stammered, your voice shaky.
“I know,” Lando said, his gaze never leaving yours. “And that’s why I’ve never said anything before. But… I don’t know. Lately, it feels like things have changed. Like maybe we’ve changed.”
You didn’t know what to say. You had always been close to Lando, but you had never let yourself think about him like that. He was Lando—the charismatic, carefree playboy who was always with someone else. But now, sitting here in the quiet of his car, it was hard to ignore the way your heart was pounding in your chest, the way his words made your stomach flip.
“I…” you started, but you didn’t know how to finish the sentence.
Lando leaned closer, his hand coming to rest on the edge of your seat, his eyes searching yours for some kind of answer, some kind of sign. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “And I will.”
But you didn’t tell him to stop. You couldn’t.
Instead, you leaned in, closing the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a soft, tentative kiss. It was slow at first, hesitant, like neither of you were quite sure if this was really happening. But then something shifted. The kiss deepened, and suddenly it was like everything that had been simmering under the surface for years had finally come to a head.
Lando’s hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with more urgency. You could feel the heat of his body, the way his heart was racing just as fast as yours. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, and before you knew it, you were climbing over the center console, straddling him as the kiss grew more heated, more desperate.
You had never done anything like this before—never been this close to someone, never let yourself be this vulnerable. But with Lando, it felt… right. Like this was exactly where you were meant to be.
His hands roamed over your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You gasped as he kissed a trail down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “Lando,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of nerves and anticipation.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark and intense as he looked up at you. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice rough, barely controlled.
You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yes.”
The next few moments were a blur of tangled limbs and heated kisses, the world outside the car fading into nothing as you lost yourself in him, in the way he made you feel. It wasn’t rushed or careless like you had imagined his one-night stands might be. It was slow, deliberate, and full of a kind of intensity you had never experienced before.
And then, just as quickly as it had started, it was over. You found yourself lying in his arms, the cool leather of the seat beneath you, your breathing still ragged as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.
Lando’s hand stroked your hair gently, his touch comforting, grounding. “You okay?” he asked softly, his voice full of concern.
You nodded, snuggling closer to him. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m okay.”
For a long time, neither of you spoke. The sun had begun to set, casting a golden glow over the lake, and the quiet between you was no longer filled with tension, but with a kind of contentment you hadn’t expected.
Finally, Lando broke the silence. “You know… I didn’t plan for this to happen,” he said, his voice low. “But I’m glad it did.”
You smiled softly, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. “Me too.”
He shifted beneath you, turning slightly so he could look down at you. “So… what does this mean for us?”
You thought about it for a moment, your mind still spinning from everything that had just happened. But when you looked up into his eyes, you knew the answer.
“It means… maybe we’ve changed,” you said quietly, echoing his words from earlier.
Lando smiled, a real, genuine smile that made your heart
skip a beat. He cupped your cheek gently, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that made your stomach flutter.
“I guess we have,” he murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. It was such a simple gesture, but it held a weight of everything unspoken between you. Years of friendship, of shared memories, of teasing and laughter—all of it led to this moment. The line you’d been dancing on for so long had finally blurred, and neither of you could deny it anymore.
For a while, you just lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, basking in the comfortable silence that followed. The world outside the car seemed distant, irrelevant. It was just you and Lando now, and that felt right.
Eventually, though, the practicalities of life started to creep back in, and you couldn’t ignore them forever. You shifted slightly, sitting up in the seat, the reality of what had just happened slowly settling in.
“So… what now?” you asked, your voice quiet, as if speaking too loudly would break the fragile newness of what had just formed between you.
Lando sat up too, his hand still resting on your thigh, a small, reassuring gesture. He looked at you thoughtfully, as if considering his words carefully. “I don’t want this to be some random, one-time thing,” he said slowly, his voice steady. “You’re not like those girls. You’ve never been. I don’t want to screw this up.”
You smiled softly, feeling your heart swell at his words. “I don’t want that either,” you admitted. “I’ve never thought of us like this before… but now, I can’t imagine it any other way.”
His eyes softened as he leaned in to kiss you again, this time slower, more tender, as if sealing the promise between you. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm on your lips.
“I’ve liked you for a long time,” Lando confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just didn’t know how to say it.”
Your heart skipped again, but this time it wasn’t from nerves—it was from the overwhelming realization that you felt the same way. Maybe you’d always felt it, buried somewhere deep down.
“I think I’ve always liked you too,” you admitted, your cheeks flushing slightly at the confession.
Lando’s smile widened, his eyes lighting up with a mixture of relief and joy. “Good. Because I’m not letting you get away now.”
You laughed, the sound light and easy, and for the first time in a long while, everything felt simple. No more games, no more hiding behind jokes or casual flings. Just you and Lando, finally facing what had been there all along.
The sun was almost set now, casting a soft orange glow over the lake as the two of you sat there, side by side, in the quiet of the Porsche. The future felt uncertain in the best way possible, full of possibilities and new beginnings.
Lando gave your hand a squeeze, pulling you out of your thoughts. “You know,” he said, a teasing glint in his eye, “I think this Porsche might be my new lucky charm.”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “Of course you would say that.”
He grinned, that familiar cocky smile back in full force, but this time it was softened by something else—something deeper, more real. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll take you home. But tomorrow… maybe we can go for another drive?”
You nodded, your heart light as you leaned over to kiss him one more time. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
As Lando started the car and pulled back onto the road, you couldn’t help but glance over at him, your best friend—your something more now—and feel grateful for every twist and turn that had led you here.
And as the Porsche sped down the road, the two of you heading into an uncertain future, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.
౨ৎ
*:・゚ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!
#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x you#formula 1#formula one x reader#formula one x you#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fic#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagine#f1 fluff#lando norris x reader#formula one#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x you#lando x reader#f1#lando x y/n#lando x you#lando imagine#lando norizz#lando nowins#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#formula racing#porsche#new cars
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I'm not an Italian boy or a sea monster but this movie still means so much to me
#see that recent stuff about Pixar is genuinely heartbreaking#if you think about it a story about a literal race car probably isn’t all that relatable either…#my art#Luca#Pixar Luca#luca paguro#alberto scorfano#luberto
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most feared duo in yokohama
#pleuart#pleucas#bsd#bungo stray dogs#dazai osamu#chuuya#chuuya nakahara#dazai#skk#soukoku#chuuyas bike is so underrated and absurd#i know that it’s a very heartfelt and important gift but i see it as support for his descent into hedonism#if dazai can’t drive a car he sure as fuck can’t ride a bike or motorcycle#sorry for the inaccurate motorcycle anatomy#i had to make it so that a racing bike would fit two people :c#and apologies for the lack of horrific bright magenta#it just didn’t fit the color scheme 😔
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