hrny.vpr π
2026-06-28 18:48 π¬π§
First sentences of a fic I'm working on: (if you can guess the fandom, reply)
Red and burnt orange reflected off the dull metal and glossy, flaking paint, and into the goggled eyes of the man taking the machine apart. Each strike of the wrench on steel was catharsis, a way to release the energy of the swelteringly hot workday, a return to the familiar routine that signalled the end of the day's fighting.
Red and burnt orange reflected off the dull metal and glossy, flaking paint, and into the goggled eyes of the man taking the machine apart. Each strike of the wrench on steel was catharsis, a way to release the energy of the swelteringly hot workday, a return to the familiar routine that signalled the end of the day's fighting.