#they needed takuma's stability there

[thistaleisabloodyone]

Thank you for the subtitles! I love this episode so much.

Keito and Hori Natsuki tried so hard 😂 RMPG having a "We're fucking winning" vibe that leads even Takahide, who was in pain after every pop, to pop 5 balloons throughout the relay 😂

I think the highlight of this part is Hori and Keito playing/struggling with popping the balloon. And Hori thinking if he gets another one that will pop faster 😂

The way Riku was blowing air into the balloon, that was um very impressive and Yusei wow that was beautiful.

[vorfreudevortex]

3. three can keep a secret...

a street racer!ino takuma x f!reader fic

redline masterlist // previous: chapter 2 // next: chapter 4

warnings // 5.8k words - swearing, alcohol, smoking, reckless driving (duh), all characters in college or recently graduated, mount hakone's details are not accurate for the sake of the story so pls don't try to clown me for it, mentions of weapons, mention of a car accident, injuries such as bleeding and broken bones, mention of death

✰ // the cars and the reader’s appearance in this fic are purposely kept ambiguous so you are free to have aspects look, feel, and be modified any way you’d like.

the vibes for chapter three

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

takuma’s soft palms securely grip your waist as you wobble and sway. the skate park is empty aside from you two, the setting sun casts a golden filter through the trees and onto his glowing skin. it’s been a few days since he first kissed you. after finally exchanging phone numbers, you’ve been texting every day since, and stealing away time to see him when suguru’s attention is turned towards something else. he’s taken you for breezy late night cruises, let you drive his skyline, and hushed walks through quiet neighborhoods.

but today he treats you to sushi from his mom’s lovely shop, and now a crash course lesson in skateboarding at the secluded park near his home.

“i’m gonna let go!”

“don’t!” you shriek, clamping onto the cotton of his navy blue shirt even tighter.

“i’m kidding,” he giggles. “i won’t let go until you ask me to.”

you jerk back and forth on the worn out wood, trying to tighten your core like takuma told you to, but it does nothing as you struggle to find balance.

“are you bending your knees?”

“i’m trying to,” you whine as he walks beside you, guiding you forward slowly. you finally find a small center of stability, “wait, let go now.”

he steps back as you slowly roll forward, arms flailing and torso contorting as you try to hold the balance you had. takuma doesn’t leave your side. the uneasiness becomes too much for you and you stumble off the board, sending it flying behind you. he’s quick to grab you.

“that was great, you’re making progress!” he grins. you grip his arms.

“that was terrifying!”

“oooh, so when 4 wheels have a supercharged v8, it’s fine” he teases. “but when it’s 3 pounds of wood, it’s terrifying?”

“it’s so not the same!”

takuma laughs before wrapping his strong arms around you and pressing a kiss to your forehead. the contact is soft, gentle. you’ve noticed over the past few days that takuma is rowdy and rough when he makes contact with anything except you. when you’re there, his body and voice calms, like a precious glass ornament he’s afraid to break.

“we can be done for the day,” he suggests. “maybe another lesson tomorrow?”

“i can’t,” you pout. “my dad and brother said they have something planned for my birthday.”

“what?!” his eyes widen with alarm. “your birthday?”

“yeah,” you smile sheepishly. “i’m 21 tomorrow.”

“you should’ve said something! oh my god, i didn’t get you anything.”

“i didn’t expect you to,” you giggle. “you don’t need to get me anything, kuma.”

“no, no, no,” he pleads, tightly clinging to you. “i’ll get you something good, promise.”

“you really shouldn’t worry about it—”

“—sshhh,” he hushes you. “and this weekend, we can go out and celebrate at the underground.”

“i’d love that, kuma.”

“good,” another press to your forehead before quickly whipping around and hopping on his board. he pushes off, rolling fast and low as he approaches a ramp. he looks at you with a silly grin and playful eyes— it’s an addicting sight. “now watch this steeze!”

you can’t help but laugh at his goofy behavior as he lifts up from the ramp, the board twirling in the air before he sticks the landing.

it’s not the burning sun that sends warmth through your entire body, it’s takuma.

✰✰✰✰✰

that evening, chopsticks click and clatter around the kotatsu as your little family enjoys a comforting dinner. you, papa, and suguru prattle and laugh over minuscule conversation and steaming rice. but papa finds a lull through the noise, and takes the opportunity to say something that neither you or suguru were expecting.

“i talked to toji fushiguro the other day.”

ah, shit. 

you look at suguru, suguru looks at papa. you know that your brother never told your dad about the tense situation from a few days ago. and you both know that papa is still friends with toji, but assumed that he would keep his mouth shut to him. plus, incidents like that had an unspoken rule to stay unspoken, even to those who were familiar with the scene.

“and how did that go?” suguru responds, his words slow and careful. papa looks at you, his kind eyes suddenly serious. he holds a beer bottle, oil and grease buried deep underneath his fingernails.

“toji says that there’s some people who don’t like that there’s a girl running around and racing.” 

“i haven’t been racing, though,” you’re confused. you already know toji told your papa about the argument suguru had with his son. suguru stays quiet, looking down in his food with his brows furrowed.

“but you’ve been practicing to race,” you dad explains. “apparently, the local car community isn’t exactly excited that you’re here.”

“i’m just visiting,” you tilt your head. “i come here every summer, i think most people in the scene know that.”

“but you’re older now. you shipped out your car, doing mountain passes… getting more involved with suguru’steam.”

“that doesn’t mean anything,” suguru finally says. “who’s saying this?”

“i’m not sure,” papa admits. “but toji seemed concerned about it enough to come and talk to me.”

“and this was after suguru raced his son, right?” you ask.

“yes, but all that’s beside the point.”

“so what is the point?” your brother says, you can tell he’s getting irritated.

“well…” papa clears his throat. “…they don’t want a girl racing around them.”

“why not?” you ask and suguru rolls his eyes.

“it’s not like a girl’s never ran with us,” suguru scoffs. “this is stupid.”

“so, are people, like… mad at me?” you’re still confused. “they know my shelby is faster, they know that suguru’steaching me how to drift, so what? they don’t want the possibility of suguru’s sister being better than them? that’s so childish.”

“i agree,” suguru adds. “this is some bullshit. it’s just fun, my little sister wants to run around with me and race while she’s here for the summer, so she will. it’s not that serious.”

“trust me, i agree as well,” your papa looks anxious, the creases on his face seem more obvious than before. “it’s just that toji suggested that…”

“suggested what?” suguru huffs.

“he suggested that someone might cause trouble if clutch hangs around too much.”

“…is that a fucking threat?”

“i don’t know. but you needed to know, and clutch is old enough now where she should know it, too.”

“alright…,” your fingertips twitch. “so what happens now?”

suguru scarfs down the last of his food and stands up from the table. “i gotta call toru and ken.” your papa reaches over and places a reassuring hand over yours as suguru disappears upstairs.

“i’m sure it’s just talk. you shouldn’t stop having fun while you’re here,” his gentle words help you relax. “i love you, y/n. just be safe and smart when you’re out.”

✰✰✰✰✰

later, when the moon glows through the windows and the house settles into silence, you find yourself knocking on suguru’s bedroom door. you heard him come in earlier from the bar with his friends, and know he would be in bed now.

“come in.”

he lays back on the pillows of his bed with one knee propped up, scrolling on his phone. he only wears a pair of shorts and his long, dark hair is loose over his shoulders. his room is spotless, like always. against one side of the room is his bed and desk, the other a tv and dresser. they walls are covered in a tasteful array of signs and posters, the moonlight almost makes them seem alive. his dark wooden desk is littered with random silver car parts and tools, all clean and neatly aligned. his closet door is ajar, and each shirt is color coded.

you pad over and and he moves to make room for you as you sit beside him. his phone lights up his sleepy face, it’s a tiktok video of a beautiful nissan silvia.

“what’s up?” he smiles lazily, reaching up to wind his fingers through your hair. you slump into his shoulder.

“we never talked the other day.”

“yeah, i’m sorry. i got caught up working on satoru’s car.”

“it’s alright. i’ve already forgiven you.”

“well, i’m still sorry… never should of put you in that position.”

“don’t be,” you laugh. “i put myself there.”

“and i should’ve kept you out.” you sit up, his fingers leave your hair. he looks at you expectantly.

“nii-chan, you’ve never used your gun, right?” your voice is soft. “same with satoru?”

“no,” he looks directly in your eyes, he wouldn’t dare lie to you. “never.”

“okay,” you nod. “but, what about what papa said—”

“—i will if i need to,” he’s quick to respond. “and satoru.”

“i will, too.”

he lifts an eyebrow at your words. “huh?”

“i know how to use a gun,” you admit. “mom has one back home and taught me.”

“why would she get a gun?”

“i dont know,” you shrug. “everyone’s got one. so i guess she didn’t want to be the only one without.”

“you’re not going anywhere near my pistol.”

“i know.”

“seriously, don’t touch it under any circumstances. i don’t care if it's laying around in my car or something,” his voice is suddenly low and urgent. “if i get caught and they find your prints on it, it’s over for you.”

“you’d go to jail, too.”

“and i’ll be the only one going. you’ll have nothing to do with it.”

you’re both quiet for a moment before you ask your next question.

“why did toji fushiguro do that? don’t you think that was so weird?”

“i don’t know, i think just to piss me off some more,” suguru huffs. “either way, it was odd behavior, even from him. it was fucking disrespectful. he doesn’t know you like that so i don’t know why he would try that shit.”

“you still seem really mad about it.”

“because i am,” he sits up and grabs your arm. “that’s why i don’t want you anywhere near ino or any of the shadows. they hang out with some nasty people. fushiguro still does suspicious shit and i know he’s got his son in it too.”

“suspicious how?”

“fushiguro…” he pauses and glances at the bedroom door before lowering his voice to a whisper. “…fushiguro and his kid were the ones to help me get my gun. and i know exactly which nameless yakuza he sourced it from. and that kamo guy, the one with the tattoo on his nose, used to run drugs and other shit for him and toji. they ran around together in a motorcycle gang before they got busted and he came to tokyo.”

choso kamo? no way… he was so quiet and respectful towards you at the club, and he’s friends with takuma, the sweetest one of them all. same with megumi, he seemed so young and easily flustered, there’s not a chance that his own father has him sneaking around the city like that… right?

you want suguru to be lying but you know he isn’t. he’s never lied to you and his intense gaze solidifies his truth.

“you think anyone who willingly runs around with those guys can stay out of trouble? absolutely not. takuma and his boys were the first to get pistols. satoru and i thought the same as mom, we weren’t gonna get tied up someday as the only ones without them.”

“okay, i get it. but what does that mean for me?” you take a breathe. “i don’t wanna get caught in literal crossfire just because i wanna race.”

“you won’t.”

“how can you be sure? if toji fushiguro is this big and bad, i don’t think he’d make empty… threats… like that.”

“clutch, my team is more than just ken and toru,” he reassures. “sure, those two are always around, but the phantoms are bigger than you think. they’re just not around every time we’re out.”

“i kind of figured…”

“people say the phantoms run the streets of tokyo,” he continues. “everyone knows i don’t fool around. there’s a lot that happens when you’re not here. someone would be an idiot if they tried to come after us.”

“what about me?”

“us includes you, silly,” he smirks. “you’re my sister. you could beat most of them in a race after all. as long as you stay close to me, you’ll be alright.”

you can’t help but smile.

“suguru, i wanna be one of the fastest street racers in tokyo,” you admit. “at least while i’m here.”

“i think you’re pretty much there already,” he chuckles. “there’s no other girls who race with us.”

“i mean, even better than the handful of female racers around. i wanna be able to keep up with you.”

“is that so?”

“yeah. and i wanna win a touge pass on mount hakone, too. lots of them.”

“all before the summer ends?” he teases.

“yeah, before the summer ends,” you grin. “and then i’ll mysteriously disappear like i was never here.”

“oooh, kinda like a phantom?” he wears a shit-eating grin and you can’t help but laugh. “it’s late, you better get some sleep for you surprise tomorrow.”

“can you give me a hint?”

he looks up and purses his lips, faking a deep thought. “hmmm. it’s something you’ll never see coming.”

“yeah, i know,” you lightly smack him as he laughs. “that’s what a fucking surprise is.”

“i’m not telling you anything. but it’ll be a proper celebration of your 21st. it’s a big one, you’ll go home and be able to party now.”

“you act like i’ve never had a sip of liquor in my life,” you pull him in for a tight hug. “love you.”

“love you, too.”

you pull away and playfully jab your finger in his nose. “you need a soap opera on your life after the drama you caused the other night. don’t drag me into it again.” he swats your hand away with a grin.

“you shithead. get out of my room.”

at exactly 12:01 am, your phone sings:

takuma ino: happy birthday pretty girl :)

✰✰✰✰✰

your birthday flies by before you know it. papa, suguru, satoru, kento, and shoko wake you up with your favorite breakfast and gifts, including one that your mom mailed to you from back home. your bed is littered new clothes, jewelry, trinkets, and liquor at the end of the morning. suguru makes you play passenger princess in your own mustang for the day while he takes you around the city, while the others all seem to have excuses for why they can’t come spend your birthday with you.

suguru drags you all across tokyo. he takes you shopping, out for lunch, and then coffee when you get sleepy. he pays for your manicure, takes all your instagram photos for you without complaining, and to the sushi boat restaurant you’ve been wanting to visit. it’s not as good as ino family's sushi shop.

you’re exhausted by the time the sun has set, begging your brother to take you home so you can finally spend time with your papa before the night ends.

“your garage remote isn’t working,” suguru says as he fumbles with the buttons, the engine idling just outside the house.

“suguru, this has been the best day ever and i love you so much,” you start. “but i’m about to get real fucking cranky if i’m not in the house in 10 seconds.”

“relax,” he laughs. “go open the door for me and head on upstairs. i’ll pull your car in.”

you’re punching in the code when you hear suguru cut the motor of your mustang. the garage door groans open behind your back as you watch him walk up the driveway toward you.

“i thought you were gonna pull my car in?”

“i would but,” he points behind you. “there’s no room.”

your drowsiness had distracted you from realizing the shop’s lights were on when they shouldn’t have been. you look over your shoulder with wide eyes. suguru’s a fucking liar after all.

the shop is crowded with bodies that shout and holler excitedly when you finally turn around, and in the center sits your papa, satoru, kento, and shoko. between them, however, is a dark, blood red body of metal. there’s not a single scratch on the paint, and the chrome wheels gleam under the bright lights of the garage. the front license plate, brand new and snowy white, reads “CLUTCH”.

“what the fuck…”

“we all pitched in,” suguru slings an arm around your stiff shoulders and holds a key out before you. “still wanna go to bed?”

your life isn’t real. you stand there like an idiot, dumbfounded with your jaw hanging open. this is a movie— no, a dream. no, this is a prank. a sick, sick joke.

“liar,” you finally choke out. “you’re a liar. you’re lying.”

“never,” he says, finally letting a wide grin spread across his face. he pushes you into the garage and past the strangers. “i hope you don’t mind, but everyone here helped pitch in something and wanted to meet you. these are the phantoms…” he opens the driver’s door of the silvia and gently pushes you into the seat. “…and this is the newest phantom’s newest car.”

you’re crying, sobbing, bawling. you’re an absolute blubbering mess. suguru crouches down in the open door as you shakily fumble with the ignition. it roars to life and shakes the walls of the shop. the turbocharged engine sounds so good, so sweet. you wail along with it as you slump over suguru’s shoulders and wet his shirt with your tears.

you can’t stop your tears as your loved ones embrace you, it’s all so much, too much. this was much different than when your mom helped you purchase the mustang, matching whatever amount you saved up from countless hours working as a waitress from her seemingly endless bank account. the time, effort, and love that your family on this side of the world had put in just for you makes you want to burst.

you think about your papa, long hours underneath greasy hoods, meticulously tuning and fixing each motor for each client that rolled into the shop. you think about kento, serious eyes and rough hands toiling away at his side. suguru, who your father also pays for his help, and his hours flipping street cars to sell on the other side of the shop— all three of their automotive technology degrees from college being put to work constantly. shoko’s exhausting 12-hour shifts at the hospital, usually during the late hours of the night. god, even satoru, who probably poured a significant amount of his father’s bank account into this gift to make up for his constant loitering.

the nissan silvia s15 spec-r, used but practically in mint condition with only 2,500 miles on it. a 4-cylinder turbo engine with horsepower up to 250. a 6 speed transmission, of course, and 274 newton-meters of torque. 

it’s fucking beautiful.

it’s yours.

✰✰✰✰✰

it’s deep into the night when suguru, satoru, and shoko step outside for a cigarette. your papa has already gone to bed and the rest of the phantoms are gone. you had made sure to thank each and every one of them before they left. most stayed close during the evening, taking turns watching papa and kento guiding you through the foreign engine and its components. 

it was just you and kento now, gently wiping down the sparkling red paint with soft towels in the peaceful silence of the garage. you sit on the concrete, getting the low corners of the nose while he leans over the hood, carefully erasing any fingerprints and dust.

“it’s quite the ride,” kento says quietly. his eyes droop with exhaustion from running around all day with papa and satoru to get the silvia in time.

“it really is," you smile. "thank you so much again, ken."

“you’ll be cruising along with us now,” he adds. “no need to ride in our passenger seats anymore like you used to.”

you can’t help but giggle, floating high and light through your sleepiness with the liquor and adrenaline of today. you think of all the times you’ve rode shotgun with each of the boys growing up, clutching onto the handles as they’d fly around just to make you shriek with happiness. it almost makes you want to cry, knowing those innocent days have ended, but you blink away the tears.

“i’ll still hop in with you every so often, don’t worry,” but kento doesn’t respond at first, instead he crouches down to your level.

“y/n, you should know that…” his voice is low, barely above a whisper as he pauses to glance at the cracked door. in the second of silence, you can hear your brother’s voice outside. kento’s brown eyes turn back and bore into you with insane intensity.

“…i saw you yesterday.”

he sees the confusion in your face. yesterday? wait—

“with takuma ino.”

fuck.

“…y-you did?” your voice shakes. you internally panic, you don’t know what to say.

“at the skate park, didn’t i?”

oh, he’s got you now. you hesitate in how to respond, but then silently nod your head. you’ve never lied to kento, and you won’t start now.

“i thought so.”

“i’m sorry…” you whisper. your heart pounds so loudly in your chest that you’re afraid kento can hear it. his eyes soften just the slightest bit.

“you didn’t know i live in that area as well, didn’t you?” his question sounds more like a statement. you shake your head, frightful tears forming in your eyes. you can’t even imagine the angry words your brother will chastise you with when he finds out, or worse, the angry fists he'd throw at takuma. “calm down. i’m not going to tell suguru.”

“you’re not?”

“no. it’s not my business.”

he stands up on his feet once more. you swallow harshly, willing the blush on your cheeks and the beating in your chest to calm down. kento has never scared you, but as you look up at his towering stance from the floor, you’re nothing but intimidated.

“but you will tell him when the time is right. and you will be careful around ino and the shadows. do you understand?”

“i understand,” you manage to croak out. you feel like you’re being disciplined by your father, or maybe your high school principle. kento just nods and motions for you to stand up beside him.

“you will also drive safely and responsibly with this new car,” his finger taps the hood. “only your father and i are allowed to tune this engine. if you get in an accident, it will be because of your driving. i will not allow this motor to fail on you under any circumstances whatsoever. if there is even a speck of dust positioned incorrectly on this motor, i will not allow you to race. do you understand?”

“yes, i understand.”

“i know your brother has told you about what happened to yu. i won’t allow anything like that to happen to you,” his face changes ever so slightly, an unreadable expression. your heart skips a beat, you know all about what happened to yu haibara. 

you’ve seen glimpses of the burn marks on kento’s side, the ones from him pulling his childhood friend from a blazing car. yu haibara didn’t stand a chance, he had died in the initial wreck before the engine even caught on fire. kento had crawled out of the passenger seat, bones snapped in half and stabbing through his skin, before crawling back in when he realized yu hadn’t come out yet. bleeding and broken, he had cradled yu’s lifeless body on the touge of mount fuji until help finally came to him. kento has never raced since.

“thank you, ken,” you whisper. you know he's dead serious, he would never say such a thing if he didn't truly and absolutely mean it.

kento pulls you in for a swallowing hug, the musk of his cologne filling your lungs as he wraps you into his chest.

“damn,” you turn at satoru’s teasing voice. “someone take a picture, ken’s showing emotion.”

the trio enters the garage with drowsy faces, reeking of tobacco. kento lets go, you pray they only caught the last part of your conversation.

“all cleaned up, huh?” suguru whistles.

your brother steps between you to lean over and closely inspect the glowing red paint, kento stands stiffly on the other side of him. you glance at him. he has a soft, knowing look in his eyes, and dimples emerge in his cheeks as he puts on gentle smile. you have complete trust in knowing that kento will keep your secret safe as he opens his mouth to speak.

“yeah. all cleaned up.”

✰✰✰✰✰

all week long, you wake up early and stay up late. the boys work with you every day while your papa tinkers alongside you between his own clients. shoko stops by after her shifts for a beer and cigarette to watch the boys work. 

the first engine modifications include a better cold air intake and exhaust, while kento insists that he reprograms the ecu so your throttle response is absolutely perfect. suguru orders brand new coilovers while satoru and your papa lightly argue over which strut and sway bars will be best for you. 

the five of you spend an entire day on new tires and cambers until the angle is exactly the way you want it, and another few days installing a gorgeous wide body kit for the wheels. papa focuses on replacing the stock clutch and gear shifter. kento helps you with the brake calipers and pads. you thought you knew plenty about cars and motors, but each hour you feel like you’re being introduced to a new component or tool that you didn’t know existed. 

at the end of every night, you’re leaning against the shower wall with sleepy eyes trying to scrub the grease and oil from the crevices of your skin and the bed of your fingernails. you’re not sure the dark smell of the motor will ever leave your hair, but you slide into your bed light-headed and happy knowing your family loves you enough to provide so much for you.

you don’t talk to takuma much as week passes, only a few messages here and there. you’re too busy feeling filthy with guilt every time the boys open up a box of brand new parts for your car. but every time you start to say something, someone is shushing you. you know how expensive each part is, and on top of the expense of the car… you feel sick to your stomach just thinking about how many digits follow the dollar sign.

although you’ve taken your new silvia for a few spins, you’re itching to get out to the mountain as the week comes to an end and the car comes closer to completion. it’s all you’ve wanted to do all summer, all you’ve wanted to do for years, and now you finally have your very own vehicle to do so.

the large door of the garage is wide open and the sun is setting, shooting rays of gold into the garage and over the silvia. warm summer breezes sift through the shop. suguru talks you through properly applying a sticker on your back windshield. it’s the same one you’ve seen on all the boys’ cars; a bright white hooded ghost figure with glowing red eyes— a phantom. when you’re finished wiping it down, your brother ruffles your hair and smiles.

“let’s go to mount hakone.”

you truly couldn’t be happier. there’s no races tonight, but there’s still a few scattered cars hanging out around the straight. a few of them take casual passes through the mountain, but nothing high stakes. you recognize a few familiar phantom faces and make sure to take the time to greet them and show them your finished project, thanking them incessantly for helping your family purchase the silvia until they’re practically begging you to stop.

everyone shows respect when suguru announces he wants you to have a turn through alone. they stay back on the shoulder to wait until you come back through again, giving you supportive words as you start warming up the engine. suguru hands you the black helmet from the passenger seat for the nth time.

“where did you even get this?” you ask him as you pull it over your hair. “you’ve never even owned a motorcycle.”

“it’s for your safety,” he reaches over to make sure the chinstrap is tight enough.

“i asked where, not why,” you giggle.

“i don’t even remember. it’s been laying around in my closet for a while.”

“it’s a cool helmet! practically brand new.”

“you’re the only one to wear it.”

you fasten your new seatbelt across your chest, a red racing harness that matches the maroon paint of the silvia. suguru does the same before pulling on your straps once more.

“i got it!” you whine. “it’s tight enough.”

“i just need to be sure,” he settles back in the passenger seat. “let’s run it.”

you press the gas, making the glistening new tires spin in place against the rough concrete until your gut tells you they’re sticky enough. your foot lifts from the brake, and the car is set free. your mind thinks of nothing except redlining the engine and the upcoming turn the entire way through.

your mind has made friends with each bend, rock, and tree along the path. every time you come to mount hakone, your confident builds higher and higher. and with the silvia now in your control, you’re raring to go. each day that passes means your time in japan is getting shorter, and you want— no, need— to get faster.

back at the straight, suguru whistles as you pull the handbrake for the final time and take out the key. the engine stands still and hot, you can hear the faint tick tick ticking under the hood as you tear off the constricting helmet. your hair sticks to your forehead, damp with sweat, as you try and catch your breathe. suguru shows you his phone screen.

8:42:35

it’s nowhere close to suguru’s. although unofficial because of its illegality, all the street racers in tokyo know that your brother holds the fastest time at mount hakone— 6:48:02.

“8 minutes?” you whine, even though it’s a whopping 5 seconds faster than the last pass you completed.

“this is an insanely good time,” suguru chuckles.

“no it’s not! it’s over 2 minutes slower than you.”

“relax, clutch—”

“—and a minute and 40-something seconds slower than toru.”

“you’ve already gotten so much faster since you—”

“—and a minute and 38 seconds slower than kento!”

“cool it,” suguru warns against your rare show of brattiness. “don’t pout about it. this is still faster than a lot of racers around here.

you’re still panting. you unclasp the seatbelt, slouching as your head falls back into the black suede of the headrest and close your eyes.

“you’re right, suguru. i’m sorry,” you say softly. “i’m sorry, i’m just tense from all that. it’s a good time, i know that.”

“don’t apologize, it’s alright,” he reassures. “let’s take a break.”

you pull your car to the shoulder and practically kick open the door to get out. although the icy air you had blasting during the race kept your skin cool, the cool mountain air made you feel as if you could actually breathe again. a handful of phantoms come over to you, complimenting your improving time and suggesting helpful tips while another round of racers loudly speed into the mountains.

a pair of boys your age stand off to the side, listening closely until the others leave. the dark-haired one with sleepy eyes holds a hand out to your brother first. unlike takuma, it seems like he already knows how not to piss suguru off.

“geto-san, nice to meet you,” he smiles. “my name is yuta okkotsu.”

suguru returns his smile and shakes his hand. okkotsu and his friend turn to you with a small bow before he places a hand on the shoulder of the smaller blonde boy wearing a black mask over his mouth and nose.

“this is toge inumaki,” he continues. “he’s mute, but he can hear you just fine.”

“oh, nice to meet you!” you smile.

“inumaki was wondering if you’d like to race tomorrow night, before ino-san and gojo-san,” okkotsu explains with his eyes trained on you. you look back at him but your mind is elsewhere. you didn’t know takuma and satoru were set to race tomorrow.

“uh, me?” you ask. you’re a little surprised, you weren’t expecting someone to approach you first, especially knowing now that people didn’t want you to race. inumaki raises his hands, fingers swimming through the air as he signs to okkotsu.

“if it’s alright with the both of you,” he explains. you can see the raised cheekbones of inumaki’s smile from under his mask. “inumaki just started racing as well, he thought it would be good experience for the both of you.”

“what’s your time?” suguru asks, but he speaks directly to inumaki. the boy’s eyes dart from suguru to okkotsu, nervous that suguru won’t be able to understand him. but he raises his hands anyways, and the slender fingers start to move.

eight. three. nine.

“8 minutes, 39 seconds?” suguru clarifies, inumaki nods. he clearly doesn’t care that the boy can’t speak, he just wants to know how fast he is.

“and what team are you two with?” he asks.

“we aren’t on any team,” okkotsu answers. “we’re pretty new to the scene, we just race for fun. and we don’t race for pinks or money.”

“how old are you two?”

“…17,” the boy smiles sheepishly. your brother chuckles lightly.

“well, how ‘bout it, clutch?” suguru hums. “you wanna race this guy?”

“…can i?” you respond. you’re asking suguru if he thinks you’re ready for a true touge race more than you’re asking for his permission to.

“if you want. i think you’re ready.” you smile at your brother and turn back to the boys. you hope you don’t seem too giddy, but your heart pounds with the anticipation of your first real race.

“let’s do it, inumaki-kun!”

he puts his hand to his chin and out, thank you. then, a fist with his pinky and thumb out with a gentle shake, shaka. you giggle lightly as you mimic his hands.

“but first,” suguru steps forward, towering over the boys. “we’ll do three practice passes right now with the two of you. she’s never gone through with a second car. we’ll take it slow and easy, keep your distance from her.”

inumaki nods and your brother turns to you.

“i’ll ride with you in the first round, but that’s it,” it’s your turn to nod to suguru. “helmet on, clutch. let’s go.”

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

redline masterlist // previous: chapter 2 // next: chapter 4

tag list // @stillnotherapy @rieamena @magiamad0ka

© vorfreudevortex | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, repost, or otherwise share my work.

[mmfpeg]

jorge martin rode 28 perfect laps of the german gp.

a shame that the race was 30 laps long, isn't it.

under the cut: broken bones, brotherly love, resurgences

jorge martin had pecco bagnaia beat in the sprint. but pecco, admittedly after getting beaten up a little bit during the starting stages, emerged as the second fastest man on the field. the two of them took off from the rest of the field, pecco needing to catch up from a long way to martin to even keep the last lap move on. martin's nice enough to be like, hey, you've tried hard enough, here's one for free :) and thus pecco bagnaia was home free, a whopping 5 seconds clear from _marc marquez?_

i don't even know why marc marquez was there. he had said that he needed a perfect weekend to reclaim his sachsenring throne, and so he proceeds to break his bones and ribs at t11 on friday. scrappy qualifying with faulty bikes and interruption from Testing Legend stefan bradl in his final hail mary run left him stranded in q1. he was a non-entity on the sprint and everyone was like. well, very understandable. and then sunday came and he somehow kept himself in the shop window. his secondhand bones became thirdhand(???) after franky morbidelli clattered into him at t1, which made him headbutt a part of his windshield clean off. somehow he picked up his momentum right away and retook his position from an enea bastianini cheeky move, and his late pace gave him the ultimate consolation prize of p2, from his brother alex marquez. he _loves_ that p13-to-p2 races, don't he. four weeks until the next race, thank god: go get some fucking rest man

no, their bones are not okay. also actually they’ll be starting both races this week. thanks for the concern though :)

alex marquez was all too happy to let marc by; by the late stages of the race, marc was .5 per lap faster than him. though, for most of the grand prix, alex had looked the fastest marquez, and in turn the fastest gp23 on track. probably helps a lot that he had intact ribs. but this marquez double podium marks the first brotherly podium in the top class since nobuatsu aoki and takuma aoki 27 years ago. which is about time, to be honest: both brothers are world champions. somehow their times of having a consistent podium-capable ride under them never really crossed paths until now. so it's nice to be able to cross that item from the bucket list.

it's so pleasant to see franco morbidelli fighting up front again. we got a brief dare to dream moment with jorge and him in p1 and p2 for the pramac double, before franky ran out of frontrunning pace and got get by pecco. he wasn't necessarily down for the count; for a few laps he kept on running wide on t1 (one of which led to the aforementioned clatterance with marquez), and so he fell back into enea bastianini's grasp. but damn if he didn't go down without a fight: after a last turn move by bestia to take the then-p5, franky came back and _took the tight inside line on t1_ to get his position back, the same turn he's been running wide at the previous laps before. enea got him in the end, but the franky redemption tour is genuinely go.

miguel oliveira got a solid p6 after a very strong weekend from him and trackhouse in general: both got into the front row, miggy got a superb p2 in the sprint. a good aprilia representation, seeing that aleix is out with an injury and maverick _double_ highsided in qualifying (maverick also pulled off a brilliant threading-the-needle move between raul fernandez and enea bastianini during the early part of the race; shame that he skipped along the gravel not long after. didn't fall down, though! able to get back into the points at the very least).

shout out to pedro acosta in p7; first points after being pointless in catalunya and assen. he's not slumming it at the front where he would probably like, but if he stabilizes and this is his floor, which is to say, _the best ktm_, in front of 2023 best of the rest brad binder, he's _probably_ gonna turn out fine.

[sun-sandwich]

19 Years old Boys in World trigger

Since the 19 years old boys are my favorite group in World Trigger I decided to gather all the info I know about them so far (That connect them to each other) starting with...

Jin Yuuichi - The eldest brother (fake)

• Calls Ikoma (Ikoma-chi)

• Told Osamu that Iko is the best Senku user

• Calls Yuba (Yuba-chan)

• According to the CD drama and Smash Borders, he helps Arashiyama in his PR work

• Asked Arashiyama to spend his day off in Tamakoma

• Share the same Silhouette with Jun

Ikoma Tatsuhito

• Poked Arashiyama's cheek right after he finished the match.

• Couldn't fight Jin because of Tachikawa so he invited himself for a peek

• Created his senku to counter Yuba's style

Yuba Takuma (The real big brother)

• He plays the role of the eldest brother who tightens the reins on Jin, Ikoma, and Arashiyama to prevent Kakizaki's death from overwork

Arashiyama Jun (The composed mediator)

• The one who manages their Kyoto trips

• His relationship with Jin is labeled with the word "trust"

• Forces Jin to walk with Koro

• Ex mates with Zaki

• Loses his mental stability with Jin & Iko (as long as Zaki is there, I see what you are doing Jun…)

• According to Jin he visits Tamakoma a lot, when he comes back from college or when he misses the train (to the point he knows where they store the instant coffee and is so familiar with everything in there)

• Made a silly joke about Jin, something like (haha you drink BLCAK coffee because you are a BLACK trigger user)

• In one of the Extras, Mitsuru Called him and Jin (Twins)

Kakizaki Kuniharu (The youngest yet the Father)

• The guardian of Jin, Iko, and Arashiyama

• He wants to go on the expedition with Iko and Yuba

• Has driving license so I'm sure he's the one who takes the kids to Kyoto (As I said… the Father)

Random info

• Iko and Jun are both possible candidates for Tamakoma's triggers (Arashiyama\Geist) & (Ikoma\Fullarms)

• Jin, Ikoma, Yuba and Arashiyama are compatible with the Fujin

• Jin, Arashiyama, and Zaki studied together

I need more info about Yuba (because The big brother part was expected I need more!!! like... an explanation of why does Konami call him little Yuba? you know... more silly info)

[briefencountersofthefantasykind]

THE PROMPT: You have arrived at the next point of interest. You come upon it suddenly. On a glacier, you find plants and other immobile forms of life. (Floating flowers, giant ferns, etc.) Please record your findings. Conclude your log with END OF FILE.

Originally shared in response to https://twitter.com/among_stars_ , the Twitter bot version of the game Alone Among the Stars by Takuma Okada

[CONTENT WARNING: This story contains some body horror towards the end.]

THE PROMPT: You have arrived at the next point of interest. You come upon it suddenly. On a glacier, you find plants and other immobile forms of life. (Floating flowers, giant ferns, etc.) Please record your findings. Conclude your log with END OF FILE.

The flora here has clearly evolved to be highly resistant to the cold. I used my thermoscanner on the leaves and petals of multiple different plants, and they all register far warmer than the air. I wish I had an actual xenobiologist here with me. I wish I had any of the team.

Okay, enough of that. I'm going to try touching a leaf with a probe... [several seconds of dead air, followed by a sharp intake of breath] That was... unexpected. Um, multiple... fronds? tentacles? Okay, Kee, just describe, you don't need scientific jargon.

I touched a petal on a rose-like plant with the probe - the petal is a foot wide! Tiny tentacles rose from the surface of the petal and explored the probe. The whole petal surface is covered in tentacles. There was a brief indentation on the surface, shaped like the probe.

I'm going to try... what the [expletive]? Uh, sorry. A bud just formed on the stem, grew, opened, and there was a replica of the probe tip, same color as the petal, made of plant material. Perfect replica. Is this thing sentient? [expletives for several seconds]

Is that even a mark of sentience? Dammit, knew I should have taken that minor in psych. Why couldn't I have gotten the [expletive] virus instead of Farakh? Lot of good xenolinguistics is when the subject has no hands or... mouth. Oh. Wait, no, that'd be nuts! Observe and return.

That's what the captain said. But xe was coughing and xer antennae didn't look great. If I could communicate, if they are sentient, if they even -have- language, if I can manage diplomacy, if they're friendly, we might have a shot against the virus. Lot of ifs there.

Aileen, calculate breathability of atmosphere. Oh! Finally, something positive. Aileen, calculate time until irreparable frostbite to face without helmet. Ugh, Aileen, disable suit warnings for the next... 5 minutes. Authorization Keyosha 5692. Okay, here goes.

I'll either end up in a textbook or a memorial garden. Time to see which. Aileen, switch to external suit mic. Raise external camera. [sound is muffled briefly] Oh, [expletive] that's cold! Okay, in for a credit, in for a cruiser.

[No audio, but video shows Ensign Keyosha lowering her unhelmeted face into the petal. She remains there for 73 seconds, then lifts her face from the petal, and puts her helmet back on.] Aileen, switch to helmet mic. Enhance thermal scan on external camera. I hope this works.

Geez, this rose is showing way colder now than the other plants, even the other roses. Does it have to divert... energy? or whatever to make things? Ugh, that's like basic bio, Kee, come on. Is anything even happening? I see a bud, but it's the same si.... Wait. It's growing.

It's so slow! I guess I'm more complicated than a probe. Now I wait, I suppo... Of course I have "alien material" inside me, Aileen, I just stuck my face in an adieb ... oh fub oh fub oh f... [A sound is heard that coincides with the face shield of the helmet shattering.]

[A vine appears from Ensign Keyosha's mouth and nose. There are brief signs of breathing distress, before Ensign Keyosha falls unconscious, as confirmed by her suit telemetry. However, her oxygen levels quickly stabilize, and her skin appears impervious to the temperature.]

[After several minutes, the bud on the plant opens, and a perfect replica of Ensign Keyosha's face appears. The vine emerging from the ensign grows towards the replica, and enters its mouth and nose, departing Ensign Keyosha's. Signs of consciousness begin to return.]

I better get a [loud expletive] medal for this, that's all I have to say! Ugh, I'm dripping, but wearing all this is easier than carrying it. Just a couple more minutes. [3 minutes and 42 seconds pass in silence. Ambient sound indicates there is not a gap in the audio.]

All those years my mom tried to teach me patience, and it was a giant alien rose that managed it. Plant time is really... odd. Anwyay, there are my doses! [The camera shows the ensign gently collecting pollen from newly bloomed flowers on the stem of the alien lifeform.]

Thank you. [Ensign Keyosha touches fingers to her nostril and tongue, then touches them to the petal.] There's a language I never imagined. Guess it's the textbook for me after all. Okay, time to cure friends, avoid a court martial, and see if I have superpowers now?, I guess?

END OF FILE

[cantuscorvi]

strawberryxdreams​:

‘Your arrogance will be your death.’ Oh how hilarious. It was a young Takuma all over again grabbing at his shirt and keeping him from a massacre that probably would have resulted in his death. Stupid Nakamura and being right. Ugh, he supposes that’s why the Asuka group was in the position it was, wasn’t it.

Raum’s finger’s against his skin feel cool, oddly nice, a balm to the burning wound and it makes his eyes close again briefly. How embarrassing would it be to ask the man to just lay his hand there for a moment. Just a moment! But he wasn’t quite that desperate. 

“Will it scar doctor? And how much does the visit cost me?” The corner of his lips lift, a small smirk despite his fatigue. It lightens Miya’s face just a bit.

Raum started to apply the strip to one side of the cut. He smoothed it down flat against Miyasaki's skin, resting his wrist against the man's abdomen for stability. It was delicate work, and if his fingers trembled at all then it would be crooked.

He made a little noise of affirmation at the question, but didn't look up until he was finished with placing the first half of the strip. "It's likely, yes. Especially if you don't look after it properly."

His gaze darted up briefly, pausing to catch the smirk playing at Miya's lips, before Raum met his eyes. Only to let out a little amused, ha! "Oh, much more than you can afford. Not to worry -- we'll set up a payment plan. Low interest, since we're partners."

Raum's other hand came up to twist open the liquor bottle and offer it to Miyasaki. "You're going to need this now," he said, giving the other man the sort of no-nonsense expression which meant he wouldn't be accepting something like 'I can take it' from Miya's bravado.

After a moment of waiting, he continued regardless, and began to pinch together the wound so that he could close the butterfly strip. No doubt it would be painful for the sensitive skin, but he resolved to get it over with as quickly as possible.

[oc-lootcrate]

THE CREEPIEST THING ABOUT YOU IS….??

tagged by: no one

tagging: everyone <3

Ari got: 

Results: You Are An Emotionally Volatile Nightmare

Your heart guides you and sometimes that's not as dreamy or romantic as it might sound. It's true that your feelings often inspire you to heal and create, and as long as those feelings don't steer you wrong, you're capable of truly visionary accomplishments in the name of empathy and love.

Feelings, though, aren't always gentle and sweet. You know that better than anyone because your own emotions - the same overwhelming forces that inspire you to make the world a better place - can take you to very dark places, especially if you believe that the subject of your ire has shown unwarranted cruelty toward you or something you hold dear. You know that your feelings aren't necessarily rational, but that doesn't stop you from dramatically blaming other people for causing you pain. Of course, you might not even stop at crying; that notoriously brilliant creativity might even spur you to express your wrath artistically - nothing says “emotional stability” like a morose, vengeful poem.

Takuma got:

Results: You Are Shockingly Violent 

There's no getting around this: you desperately need to attend anger management. You're just as headstrong and opinionated, and your energy and enthusiasm can turn into explosive violence at the drop of a hat. You're a walking time bomb of seething rage, and the more you try to hide it, the more it escapes in unpredictable, volatile mood swings. Do yourself a favor and invest in a stress ball or a gym membership before you do something you'll really regret.

Kimashi got:

Results: You Are An Emotionally Volatile Nightmare

Your heart guides you and sometimes that's not as dreamy or romantic as it might sound. It's true that your feelings often inspire you to heal and create, and as long as those feelings don't steer you wrong, you're capable of truly visionary accomplishments in the name of empathy and love.

Feelings, though, aren't always gentle and sweet. You know that better than anyone because your own emotions - the same overwhelming forces that inspire you to make the world a better place - can take you to very dark places, especially if you believe that the subject of your ire has shown unwarranted cruelty toward you or something you hold dear. You know that your feelings aren't necessarily rational, but that doesn't stop you from dramatically blaming other people for causing you pain. Of course, you might not even stop at crying; that notoriously brilliant creativity might even spur you to express your wrath artistically - nothing says “emotional stability” like a morose, vengeful poem.

Kyo got:

Results: You Are A Disturbing Control Freak

Caring for people and things does not work the way you think it does. You are so invested in making sure that everything around you is perfect that instead of showing you care, you plan and control without asking for any input (which, of course, you justify by telling yourself that you aren't burdening anyone else with extra work). You show dedication and attention to everything the same way you would a bonsai tree: meticulous maintenance, control, planning, and foresight. You call this “dedication,” but it's not - it's needing personal control so badly that you've confused it for real connection - which is not really a great quality in a friend, but a very helpful quality in an aspiring serial killer.

Senri got:

Results: You Are A Disturbing Control Freak

Caring for people and things does not work the way you think it does. You are so invested in making sure that everything around you is perfect that instead of showing you care, you plan and control without asking for any input (which, of course, you justify by telling yourself that you aren't burdening anyone else with extra work). You show dedication and attention to everything the same way you would a bonsai tree: meticulous maintenance, control, planning, and foresight. You call this “dedication,” but it's not - it's needing personal control so badly that you've confused it for real connection - which is not really a great quality in a friend, but a very helpful quality in an aspiring serial killer.

Kenji got:

Results: You Are A Disturbing Control Freak

Caring for people and things does not work the way you think it does. You are so invested in making sure that everything around you is perfect that instead of showing you care, you plan and control without asking for any input (which, of course, you justify by telling yourself that you aren't burdening anyone else with extra work). You show dedication and attention to everything the same way you would a bonsai tree: meticulous maintenance, control, planning, and foresight. You call this “dedication,” but it's not - it's needing personal control so badly that you've confused it for real connection - which is not really a great quality in a friend, but a very helpful quality in an aspiring serial killer.

Daichi got:

Results: You Are Shockingly Violent

There's no getting around this: you desperately need to attend anger management. You're just as headstrong and opinionated, and your energy and enthusiasm can turn into explosive violence at the drop of a hat. You're a walking time bomb of seething rage, and the more you try to hide it, the more it escapes in unpredictable, volatile mood swings. Do yourself a favor and invest in a stress ball or a gym membership before you do something you'll really regret.

Sato got: 

Results: You Are A Two-Faced Liar

Your friends know you talk behind their backs. Not that you're a bad person - you just can't help letting other people know how you really feel about some of the crazy stuff your loved ones have told you. Unfortunately, you've talked and talked and talked, and now, they all know you'll talk if they confide in you. You know it, too, and you still can't help it. No matter how hard you try, you simply can't force yourself to be as loyal or honest as you want to be. At least you're charming enough to keep making new friends and replacing the ones who felt too hurt or betrayed to trust you again.