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chericos · 3 days ago

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SHUT UP AND DRIVE CHAPTER THREE: blame it on the alcohol

masterlist. || 2.8k

The bar is loud.

The music pulses through the club like a heartbeat, swallowing the buzz of conversation and clinking glasses of their way too tipsy patrons. You’re on your second—or was it third?—drink, a hazy warmth spreading through your chest and cheeks. Nobara and Panda are still at the bar with you, their conversation blurring into background noise but the smiles on their faces are unmistakable.

They’re having fun.

Maki is off somewhere trying to cool down after threatening one too many guys who thought they could test their luck with her. But even in your slightly foggy state, you can tell she’s enjoying herself. Something you wish you could do. It was your idea, to begin with, yet you seem to be the only one unable to let go and enjoy the night. The only one still stuck up on the past– stuck on him.

Memories cling to you like cigarette smoke, faint but impossible to shake. They seep into your thoughts without warning, thickly wrapping around you and suffocating you until you choke. His voice, his stupid smile, the way he used to look at you before everything went to hell—it’s all too vivid, too much for you to handle. Honestly, you’d blame the alcohol, but you know better to know it's more than that.

You down the rest of your drink in a desperate attempt to drown the thoughts. It burns against the back of your throat, but not enough to make it disappear. Nobaras gaze shifts over to you as you lightly slam the glass on the bar, using her elbow to nudge you back to the present. One look at her face and you can tell she's worried, her eyebrows furrowed, and her lips are tugged into a pout.

“You good?” she asks, her words slightly slurred but full of concern.

You force a smile and nod. She doesn’t look convinced, but before she can press further, your eyes catch movement near the entrance. And just like that, the air is sucked out of the room. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

The sight of a familiar figure walking in, your eyes follow him like a hawk, dread bubbling in the pit of your stomach as you realize who it is. You take another sip of your drink, but it doesn’t drown out the irritation bubbling under the surface. “What’s he even doing here?” you mutter, more to yourself than anyone else.

Panda, suddenly interested in the conversation glances over his shoulder, following your gaze. “Who?”

You don’t even need to answer before he spots him—Megumi. His dark hair is messier than usual, and his expression is unreadable as he surveys the crowd. Yuji walks beside him, grinning and chatting animatedly, with Toge and Yuta trailing close behind.

“Relax,” Nobara says, nudging your shoulder with her elbow. “He’s not here for you.”

You scoff, swirling the remnants of your drink in the glass. “Yeah, sure. Let’s see how long that lasts.”

You can feel the tension creeping into your muscles, and your grip on the glass tightens, the memories threatening to overwhelm you again. As if on cue, Megumi starts making his way toward the bar.

“Great,” you mutter under your breath.

Before he can get close enough to say anything, someone steps into your peripheral vision.—a tall guy in a leather jacket, with tattoos peeking out from beneath his sleeves and spiky buns perched atop his head.

“Choso,” he introduces himself smoothly, his voice a stark contrast to the noise around you.

You give him your name in return, your tone clipped but curious. You look back at your friends to find them giving you a playful smile, a silent confirmation that its ok for you to talk to someone else. Nobara wraps her arm around Pands neck and drags him away to the dance floor to give you some more privacy. You give them a small wave before returning our focus back onto the man beside you.

Choso leans against the bar, his attention on you like you’re the only person in the room. “You look like you could use a distraction,” he says smoothly, his voice low enough to cut through the noise.

You blink, momentarily caught off guard. “What makes you say that?”

He smirks, glancing at your empty glass. “Just a hunch.”

His confidence is almost enough to make you forget Megumi’s looming presence. Almost. But when you steal a glance in his direction, you realize Megumi’s stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene.

Choso notices, too. His smirk widens. “Friend of yours?”

“Not exactly,” you say, trying to keep your tone neutral.

“Good,” he says, “Looks like you could use another,” he says, nodding toward your empty glass.

You hesitate for a moment, gaze narrowing as you asses him but wave the bartender down. “Why not?” You take a glance back at megumi but see that he's now long gone, you don't sit on it for long, but there's a nagging feeling in the back of your mind. A warning, perhaps. As the bartender pours another drink, Choso leans in slightly, his presence both grounding and electrifying. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

Your lips curl into a dry smile. “You could say that.”

His gaze flicks to the dance floor, then back to you. “Let me guess—guy trouble?”

Your laugh is humorless, but it feels good to let it out. “That obvious?”

“Call it a lucky guess,”

By the time your drinks are half-empty, the banter has shifted into something heavier. There’s a sharp edge to Choso’s words when he mentions his reasons for being here, though he doesn’t share much. You, in turn, share yours. His eyes never waver from yours, listening to your words without judgment, and it feels nice. Nice to not have to worry about someone taking your words the wrong way– not having to worry about being the image of perfection that the world has thrown onto you. His presence is magnetizing like he's pulling you in and you're so close to falling–giving in. But when his hand brushes against yours on the counter, you feel a momentary jolt—you pull back, blinking while shaking your head slightly.

“Not a good idea,” you murmur. You know better than anyone that you're not in the right state of mind to start something you’re sure you would regret.

He studies you for a moment, his expression softening. “Still stuck on someone, huh?”

You grimace but nod. “Something like that.”

“That’s fine,” he says, pulling out a gum wrapper and a pen. You glance at him, a little confused at the sudden shift, but when he hands you the wrapper, you see his number written inside.

“Call me if you ever get over it.”

You stare at the number, stunned, as he rises from the bar, offering a smirk before he walks away.

You’re still processing when a familiar voice cuts through the haze. “Hey! Who was that?” Nobara asks, sliding onto the stool next to you, cheeks flushed from dancing. Panda follows close behind, grinning ear to ear.

You quickly fold the wrapper and tuck it into your pocket. “No one,” you reply, maybe too quickly.

“Oh, really? ‘Cause it sure didn’t look like no one,” Panda teases, nudging your shoulder as he grabs a napkin to wipe his damp forehead. “That guy had a whole vibe going.”

Before you can come up with a deflection, another voice joins in. “What guy?” Maki appears behind them, her arms crossed and a skeptical eyebrow raised. Her sharp gaze flicks from your face to the spot where Choso had been sitting moments ago.

“Some guy that was totally flirting with her,” Nobara blurts, leaning in with a mischievous grin. “He gave her his number. Isn’t that adorable.”

“It wasn’t like that,” you mumble, grabbing your drink to avoid meeting anyone’s eyes.

Maki moves closer, her tone a little more serious. “Do you know him? Or was he just some random?”

“Relax, Maki,” Panda says, waving her off. “He seemed harmless. Besides, Y/N can handle herself.”

Maki doesn’t look entirely convinced, but she shrugs. “Just saying. Keep your guard up. The last thing you need is more drama.”

Nobara groans, throwing her head back. “Ugh, Maki, can you not? We came here to have fun, not to play bodyguard.”

“Fun doesn’t mean letting your guard down,” Maki shoots back, but she softens when she looks at you. “You good?”

“I’m fine,” you assure her, forcing a small smile. “Promise.”

She doesnt look entirely convinced but she doesn’t push further. Nobara and Panda launch into a retelling of something that happened on the dance floor, their laughter loud and contagious. Maki listens quietly, staying close, and you can’t help but glance toward the crowd, where Choso vanished. The gum wrapper burns like a heavy choice in your pocket, one you’re not sure what to do with yet.

Then, your gaze drifts past the dance floor—and you freeze. Across the room, on the opposite side of the club, is Megumi. He’s lounging in a booth, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, his sharp features lit intermittently by the flashing lights. Your stomach knots when his eyes meet yours.

For a moment, neither of you look away. It’s like the crowd dissolves, leaving just the two of you locked in a silent battle. Then, he sneers. Rolls his eyes. And turns his head like you’re nothing worth his attention.

Your chest tightens, anger bubbling under your skin. Nobara catches the shift in your expression before you even fully realize it yourself. “Don’t,” she warns, her tone sharp.

“Don’t what?” you ask, voice pitched with mock innocence as you set your drink down a little too hard.

“Whatever you’re thinking of doing,” Maki adds, her eyes narrowing down at you.

But it’s too late. The alcohol has dulled your senses, and all you can think about is the smug look Megumi gave you from across the room. His sneer felt like a slap, dragging all the bitterness and unresolved anger that you oh so desperately tried to gulp down back to the surface. You slide off the barstool, ignoring Nobara’s exasperated “Seriously?”

Your steps are unsteady as you weave through the crowd, the world tilting slightly around you. When you finally reach his booth, His group—Yuji, Toge, and Yuta—are deep in conversation, but Megumi’s attention is elsewhere, following your approach with a guarded glare.

When you finally reach him, the conversation at the table halts. His eyes lock onto yours, his expression hardening into something cold and unreadable.

“You look lost,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he leans back in his seat.

“Funny,” you shoot back, your words slurring just slightly, “I was just thinking the same about you.”

His jaw tenses, but he doesn’t respond.

“What do you want, Megumi?” you press, planting your hands on the edge of the table for balance.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” he counters, his voice low, almost drowned by the heavy bassline. “You’re the one standing here.”

You’re about to snap back when his next words cut through the haze like a knife. “Get tired of your new boy toy already? You seemed real cozy chatting him up at the bar.”

The sharpness of his tone catches you off guard, but there’s something underneath it—something that makes your chest tighten.

“Why do you care?” you challenge, your voice cutting through the basting music.

“I don’t,” he says, too quickly, the tightness in his jaw betraying him.

You scoff, your fingers curling against the edge of the table. “Right. That’s why you’ve been glaring at me like I stole something from you all night.”

He doesn’t answer, but his silence is enough to stoke the fire burning in your chest.

“Are you drunk?” he asks suddenly, his tone flat but his gaze sharp, scanning your expression like he’s looking for cracks.

You laugh, the sound sharp and bitter. “What’s it to you? Worried I might embarrass myself?” You take a step closer, and he mirrors it, the air between you charged and suffocating.

“Embarrassing yourself isn’t the issue,” he mutters, his voice low enough that only you can hear it. “I just don’t want you causing a scene.”

“Bet you know all about that, huh?” you snap, your words laced with venom.

His brows knit together, his expression hardening. “The hell are you getting at?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, debating whether to let it go or let it out. The alcohol tips the scales. “You’ve got some nerve, acting like you’re above it all when you were the one who walked away. No explanation, no call, no—nothing. And now, what? You’re playing the concerned ex?”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think he might actually explain himself. Instead, he leans in, his voice barely audible over the music. “You think I owe you something? You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

Your heart clenches, his words slicing deeper than you want to admit. “I guess not,” you say, stepping back, your voice trembling despite your best efforts. “Because you never gave me the chance to understand.”

His jaw tightens. “You think you’re better than me?”

“Don’t have to think if I already know,” you snap, your voice rising.

The tension between you feels like a live wire, buzzing with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. The people at the booth are frozen, caught between intervening and letting it play out, but you’re too far gone to care.

“You think you’re perfect, don’t you?” he says, his voice dropping to a low growl. “Always acting like you’ve got it all figured out.”

“And you think running away from everything makes you better?” you fire back, stepping closer. “At least I don’t leave people wondering what they did wrong!”

His eyes flash, and for a moment, you think you might’ve hit a nerve. “You don’t know anything about why I—”

“Because you won’t tell me!” you yell, your voice breaking. “You just leave, Megumi! You don’t explain, you don’t answer, you just—vanished. How do you think that made me feel huh? Leaving me wrecked like I was the problem.” A few heads turn in your direction as your voice rises ultimately they ignore whatever seems to be happening to focus on their own conversions.

He flinches, his stoic mask cracking for a split second before he schools his expression again. “You think everything’s about you, don’t you? You’re so obsessed with being perfect that you don’t see anything else.”

The words sting, but they only fuel the fire in your chest. “And you’re so obsessed with pushing people away that you don’t even know how to let someone care about you!”

Before you know it, you’re shoving him—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make a point. The movement causes a ripple of murmurs from the nearby tables. He doesn’t move, doesn’t retaliate, just stands there with his jaw clenched and his fists balled at his sides.

“Say something!” you demand, your voice trembling. “Yell at me, fight back, do something for once instead of just shutting me out!”

But he doesn’t. He just stares at you, his silence louder than any argument. The tears you’ve been holding back start to spill over, your chest heaving as the emotions crash over you like a tidal wave.

“Damn it, Megumi!” you cry, hitting his chest with your fists. “Why couldn’t you just talk to me? Why couldn’t you just stay?”

He catches your wrists gently, his grip firm but not forceful. “Y/N, stop,” he says, his voice quieter now, but still laced with tension. “I’m not going to fight you.”

“Of course you’re not,” you choke out, your voice thick with tears. “You never fight for anything”

“Alright, enough,” Maki’s voice cuts through before Megumi can respond. She strides toward you, her expression unreadable. “Let’s go. Now.”

Nobara is right behind her, her tone softer but no less urgent. “Come on, Y/N. You don’t need this.”

Panda steps up on your other side, his presence solid and steady. “Let’s get out of here. You’re gonna feel better once we’re outside.”

“Fine,” you mutter, your voice cracking as you let Maki guide you away. Nobara slips her arm around your waist for support, and Panda moves in front of you, clearing the way through the crowd.

The cool night air greets you, but it does little to soothe the whirlwind inside. Maki doesn’t let go of your shoulder until you’re a block away from the bar.

“You okay?” she asks, her tone even but her eyes full of concern.

You shake your head, fresh tears spilling over. “I just… I need a minute.”

Nobara exchanges a worried glance with Panda before nodding. “Just… don’t wander too far, alright?”

You manage a small nod before stepping away from them, your feet carrying you without direction. The city blurs around you, neon lights smearing like watercolors through your tears.

Somehow, you end up walking aimlessly, the crisp night air cooling your cheeks as you try to piece together the complicated feelings in your chest.

pit stop!

officially calling the break rooms pit stops from now on to fit the theme

sorry for the strange posting schedule this month, I had finals but now that they're over we're back on our regular schedule

a hot new bombshell has entered the villa! welcome choso

tension was thick this chapter (sorry I love angst)

my dialogue still sucks but we can look past that

yuji and toge slept peacefully INSIDE of the house that night

well, as peacefully as one could with Mac Demarco and Mitski blasting through the houses' speaker system

just imagine that one blue-haired guy listening to music clutching himself (please get the reference); that's y/n listening to marvins room

chapter 4 MIGHT be out tmr... it's kinda long and purely text so it might take a while, we'll see.

taglist!

@s6rine @sweettenderheart @sh0ot1ngst4r @bertqut1 @favbisexualh0e @fushiguruuzzzz @harryzcherry @lightshowerrr @jasminasblog22 @gumims @yeehawnana @starrysho @1l-ynn @dovellici @moowrites @lauuriiiz @cupidsblonde @zayuriluvs @seeingivy @good-mourning0 @tlissablr @gigiiiiislife @iayanam

if your tag isn't working, please fix your setting or you will be removed!

always looking for more twt users!

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chericos · 5 days ago

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i will be back on my reblog account with comments

it's nice to have a friend

eren jaeger x f!reader

**part of my canary mate fic

previous part here

[lizontopoftheworld]: you know i’m about to do something huge today?

[busstopbilly]: We’re finally getting married?

[lizontopoftheworld]: NO

[lizontopoftheworld]: okay wait that sounded mean

[lizontopoftheworld]: like i was against the idea

[lizontopoftheworld]: not that i’m for the idea

[lizontopoftheworld]: not that i’m not not for the idea

[lizontopoftheworld]: ANYWAYS

[lizontopoftheworld]: you have to stop flirting this type of thign is not good for my brain

[busstopbilly]: Everything alright?

[lizontopoftheworld]: …

[lizontopoftheworld]: just have a lot on my mind

[lizontopoftheworld]: kind of scatterbrained

[lizontopoftheworld]: i am going to confront the prick.

[busstopbilly]: Wow, what gives?

[busstopbilly]: Give him hell.

[lizontopoftheworld]: nothing serious actually

[lizontopoftheworld]: it’s just a thing for something we’re doing together

[lizontopoftheworld]: BUT it’s a big deal because i’ve never really given input on this thing because i’ve assumed that he doesn’t necessarily want my input on this thing? granted i don’t think he takes advice from anyone but still

[lizontopoftheworld]: i know what i’m saying is right and that i should so i’m going to

[busstopbilly]: :)

[busstopbilly]: Proud of you.

[busstopbilly]: Are you nervous?

[lizontopoftheworld]: i’ve prepared three counter arguments

[lizontopoftheworld]: he literally will not catch me lacking and i’m going to try and keep my cool so that he knows that his dumb comments aren’t getting me

[busstopbilly]: This is as much rehearsing as it takes for you to speak to your sister-in-law.

[lizontopoftheworld]: god that’s a lost cause don’t even bring that up

[busstopbilly]: Sometimes it feels like you’re a little harsh on her.

[lizontopoftheworld]: SHE’S INSUFFERABLE BILLY

[busstopbilly]: I’ll table that comment for another time. You’ve got to keep your wits about you.

[busstopbilly]: Good luck, pretty girl.

[lizontopoftheworld]: what’s up with you?

[busstopbilly]: I am all types of frustrated.

[busstopbilly]: It’s really hard to figure out what to do with what I’m working on. It’s aggravating because I know that it’s something that is entirely within my capabilities but I just can’t.

[busstopbilly]: I’ve been working non-stop, been staring at my computer, and just getting so fucking frustated. It’s like I’m defective. Doesn’t help that it’s unreasonably high pressure at this point, but…

[lizontopoftheworld]: UGH im so sorry i didn’t mean to just start ranting at you with my own stuff

[lizontopoftheworld]: you know, you’re very smart and capable. you’re going to figure it out eventually.

[busstopbilly]: It’s weird. I was annoyed that I had the role I did before, but I fear I’m getting way too involved. I’m starting to care too much, which is never a good sign.

[lizontopoftheworld]: it’s a good thing that you care

[lizontopoftheworld]: and isn’t this close to like real medical stuff that you wanted to do?

[lizontopoftheworld]: just a sign that it’s something that’s actually stimulating. that you care about and want to work towards.

[busstopbilly]: You always look for the positives.

[lizontopoftheworld]: you should take notes, sweetheart

[lizontopoftheworld]: and you shouldn’t demand perfection of yourself. you are not defective if something doesn’t work out. you’re still a regular person, it’s okay to get stumped or struggle with it a little bit.

[busstopbilly]: You know, my dad DOES demand perfection of me.

[lizontopoftheworld]: and that’s why we hate your dad.

[lizontopoftheworld]: i know you demand perfection of yourself too, that wanting to do well is natural, but be a little bit nice to yourself.

[lizontopoftheworld]: you’re going to figure it out.

[busstopbilly]: Check back in at the end of the week. Hopefully, I’m still put together.

[busstopbilly]: By the way.

[busstopbilly]: Sweetheart?

[busstopbilly]: Do you mean that in a patronizing way or am I really your sweetheart?

[lizontopoftheworld]: patronizing

[busstopbilly]: You’re killing me.

[lizontopoftheworld]: i’m sorry, sweetheart <3

you find eren in the main conference room, early in the morning on thursday. you can tell that he’s hard at work – old scans from sessions printed against the wall that he’s made notes on, intelligible jargon on the glass whiteboards, and his hair an uncharacteristic mess – surely from the amount of times he’s run his hands through his hair.

you clear your throat, recalling all the talking points that you had rehearsed in the mirror the night prior, as you knock on the door and cautiously enter the room. you note that the smell of coffee is overwhelming – the freshly brewed cup sitting two feet away from you – and that the trashcan seems to be overflowing with empty energy drinks.

eren doesn’t even notice your presence, his green eyes still fixed to the scan that he’s staring at, his hand raised in the air with the pen. you note that he’s wearing his glasses, that it looks like he hasn’t slept since you saw him yesterday, as you walk up to his side.

“working hard, hm?” you ask.

eren’s startled by the sound of your voice, jumping in the slightest, as you widen your eyes and feel your cheeks flush. way to start off on a good note.

“sorry! sorry, i figured you noticed that i was here when i walked up to you.”

“were you saying something to me?” he asks.

you shake your head. you can tell that your presence has shattered some semblance of his concentration – that he’s annoyed with you because of it – as he sets his pencil down and basically collapses into the chair across from you. you follow suit, sitting down in the chair too, as you uncomfortably shift against the worn out foam.

“i’m too fucking tired to have a fucking conversation with you right now.” he utters.

you fight the urge to scoff.

“does talking to me truly take so much effort?” you retort.

eren rolls his eyes, before slumping back down into the chair.

“when you’re so hellbent on arguing, it does. and you don’t seem to talk to me otherwise.”

“you don’t have to argue if you just agree with me. and why on earth would i be so hellbent on arguing with the most insufferable person that i know?”

eren shrugs, clearly irritated.

“you tell me, y/n.”

you clear your throat, cracking all the knuckles in your hand.

“i’ve come to talk to you about colt. the trial. you can’t tell falco that he’s on the verge of getting kicked out.”

eren pinches the bridge of his nose.

“well, obviously –”

“his brother means a lot to him. his accident was really traumatic for his family, and even though he promised he wouldn’t get so self-involved, he obviously is. i mean, it’s his brother. he can’t help it. and there’s a lot of hope that this is giving him and i’d be scared to prematurely stop him in his tracks if we didn’t need to. they both talk about it so much that it would demoralize gabi too.”

“oh, it definitely would, and -”

“and they’re both sweet kids. their sincere passion and interest in the project is so sweet, i would hate for them to feel like it’s not working, to think that all of their work, our work, has amounted to nothing. i think that you and i could figure out which treatment we should do this upcoming week on our own, if you’ll take my help, and then we can go from there.”

“well, i - “

you can’t help but ball your fists in your lap.

“look, i know you don’t really like me, that you probably think that i’m being stupid and soft-hearted and whatever right now, but this means a lot to me. and i know that basically means nothing to you, but i’m just asking you as your colleague? friend? whatever it is that we are to just do this for me. i’ve never asked you for anything before, i don’t think i ever will again, and i’d just…really appreciate it if you could –”

you’re promptly cut off from giving your entire spiel because eren reaches forward, placing both of his warm hands on your cheeks, in efforts to get you to stop talking. you look forward, noting that his eyes are so deeply green – that he really does look exhausted – as he applies a firm pressure.

“stop talking please.” he murmurs, his tone soft. almost like you’ve pained him my rambling for so long.

“what?” you whisper.

eren lets go, the warmth retreating from your face, as he leans back in his chair.

“you didn’t hear a word i said, did you?” he asks, his tone rather soft.

you frown.

“did you say something?”

“i pretty much agreed with you after the first sentence, y/n. don’t know what the fuck you’re blabbing on about.” he murmurs.

“oh. really?” you murmur, slightly embarrassed. you wouldn’t have put so much effort if he was going to give in that easily.

eren gives you a thoughtful nod, before leaning his head against the back of his chair, and rubbing at his eyes.

“i’m well aware that you think i’m not capable of being fond of anyone. but i am, very fond, of both falco and his brother. i would hate to let either of them down or cause anyone unnecessary stress, especially when this entire thing is my idea, so i would like to keep it between us. i was actually intending on having this conversation with you when i arrived.”

“i’ve been here for five hours. it’s almost one in the afternoon, eren.”

eren groans.

“it seems that time has gotten away from me.”

“how long have you been here?”

“since yesterday. i can’t seem to figure out which region to target next.”

you swallow hard.

“did you really stay here the entire time?” you ask.

he nods.

“biked here so that you wouldn’t go out of your way last night.”

you sigh, as you flip through the stack of papers on the table. he’s highlighted a bunch of sentences, underlined and circled random words with questions on the side, as you reach for the closest pens.

“are you okay with me helping? more than i already am? maybe i can try some machine learning with the data we already have and use some of the analysis you’ve been using so…so we can feel more confident? i know that you don’t like me but…”

“stop fucking saying that.”

“what?”

“that i don’t like you. you’re prickly, but i don’t hate anyone.”

prickly?

“i’m consulting a bunch of people who do the stimulation, have a few meetings with specialists this week before i pick what we’re going with next week. we have to make our best chance at an educated guess.”

you nod.

“that’s smart.”

“you..you can join in the meetings, if you’d like. might mention stuff for analysis that would be useful for you to hear in real time instead of repeated from me.” eren offers.

you can’t help but smile.

“you’re really nice when you’re tired.”

“don’t get used to it.”

[busstopbilly]: Hi princess.

[busstopbilly]: Sorry I haven’t messaged in a while, I hope you know I wasn’t ignoring you.

[lizontopoftheworld]: no problem

[lizontopoftheworld]: been working myself to the bone so hard i didn’t notice :O

[busstopbilly]: Tell me about it.

[lizontopoftheworld]: any luck with your project?

[busstopbilly]: Well, I’ve somehow elicited help. She actually offered, but it’s helping things move along. I’ll be able to rest after Wednesday, I guess.

[busstopbilly]: How about you? My pretty girl’s not working too hard, right?

[lizontopoftheworld]: i fell asleep on my laptop the other day. while i was still here. but that’s besides the point.

[lizontopoftheworld]: worried about one of my children in the lab

[busstopbilly]: Your children? With who?

[busstopbilly]: We’d make cute children.

[lizontopoftheworld]: you don’t know what i look like. i don’t know what you look like.

[busstopbilly]: Oh, so you think I’m ugly?

[lizontopoftheworld]: NO

[lizontopoftheworld]: you probably think i’m ugly, you didn’t even oppose that part of that statement

[busstopbilly]: Shut up.

[busstopbilly]: You think you’re SO funny for that one.

[lizontopoftheworld]: it was kind of funny

[busstopbilly]: I know you’re beautiful. Anyways, who are these children? Why are you worried about them? Are they okay?

[lizontopoftheworld]: idk

[lizontopoftheworld]: sitting on some news that would destory them. shit at keeping secrets so i’ve been tryign to keep it together

[lizontopoftheworld]: just want to keep them from being hurt when they don’t have to be?

[busstopbilly]: Awful kind of you to take that all upon yourself. Are you talking to someone about it?

[lizontopoftheworld]: you.

[busstopbilly]: Liz.

[busstopbilly]: Besides me.

[lizontopoftheworld]: you’re enough, you know?

[lizontopoftheworld]: talking to you always makes me feel better

[busstopbilly]: Me too, Liz.

[busstopbilly]: I’d also feel better if I knew you were confiding in a friend. That someone was checking up on you if you’re stomaching something big, which knowing you, you probably are.

[lizontopoftheworld]: you are my friend

[lizontopoftheworld]: and you literally checked up on me today

[busstopbilly]: Liz.

[busstopbilly]: You stress me out sometimes.

[lizontopoftheworld]: no one asked you to invite all this stress on my behalf.

[busstopbilly]: Someone has to do it.

[busstopbilly]: Plus, it’s you.

[busstopbilly]: Kind of just comes naturally. Worrying about you. Wanting to make sure you’re okay.

[lizontopoftheworld]: you’re so cute i wish you were real

you eye the schedule that eren gave you at the end of yesterday that’s taped to the wall of your cubicle. there’s nearly seven meetings crammed into three days, each of which you’re both preparing an exhaustive list of questions for. it’s been back and forth – eren leaving comments on your document, you dropping an article into the chat between the two of you – as you read up on every last thing that you can find.

“we brought you a peace offering.”

you look up to find gabi and falco standing at the side of your cubicle, with smiles on their faces. you return the gesture as they extend their hand out to you, with a cinnamon roll slightly squashed into a napkin, that you gratefully accept from them.

“a peace offering for?”

“well, first of all, we can tell that you and eren have been working tirelessly for the grant.” falco states.

right. the grant that you already have.

not that they needed to know that.

“and no one likes to spend time with eren more than they need to. especially you.” gabi jokes.

you laugh.

“we just have a small request to make.” gabi states.

you shoot them both a look.

“gabi has to talk to pieck when we go to marley for the conference at the end of the month. and well, these type of things make her really nervous. also, i kind of told gabi that you’re not that fond of pieck and now she’s even more nervous to go there, so she really needs you there.” falco rambles.

you glare at the two of them.

“she’s not some demon you have to be scared of, guys.”

“didn’t you say that you avoid going home because of her?” falco asks.

you groan.

“i didn’t tell you that for you to use it against me, falco. and…and she’s really nice actually, it’s just me having an issue with how hard she tries to be…nice sometimes. i’m sure that she will be a perfect picture of kindness when you meet her, it’s just…”

you sigh, gesturing for the two of them to pull up chairs. the two of them give you an excited smile, both scattering to pull up chairs into your space, as you eye the cinnamon roll. it smells sweet, enough to make your stomach growl, as they attentively wait for you to talk in their seats.

you and falco had a close mentor-mentee relationship. and by that, it meant that the two of you were really just friends, and you just gave him advice here and there.

granted, you’re sure half of that is a byproduct of the fact that falco’s been alone in the dorms almost every single day since he’s one of the only students on the fellowship, that you’re the only person around to talk to, but it’s ultimately lead to some very serious conversations you should most definitely not be logging as work on your timesheets.

“well, i’ve told falco a lot about pieck. but not you gabi.” you start.

gabi offers you a smile.

“i have an older brother named porco. he’s…he’s really plucky but you’ll like him when you meet him. he works at my parent’s business back home.”

you smile.

“when porco was in highschool, he started dating pieck. she kind of freaked me out because she was super preppy. captain of the cheer team, on the student council. she went the whole ten miles and we were just…i don’t know. serving people pizza in our free time. begging our teachers to tutor us during lunch. i never really understood what they saw in each other. they have nothing in common. can barely understand each other, from what it seems like.”

“it’s romantic! opposites attract.” falco adds.

you narrow your eyes at him.

“anyways, she went to some big shot law school in a different country. i thought that she was going to break up with him to be honest, but they…they got engaged instead. did long distance their entire first year of marriage because my brother can’t really leave my parents. and she was really sweet through the entire thing, but…but i don’t know. her family wasn’t into it. the fact that we were immigrants. and even after we became citizens, they just thought that we weren’t worth their caliber. pieck didn’t seem to care, not even in the slightest, and she lives in our house now. practices in our city.”

gabi gives you a thoughtful nod.

“she gave up her entire family for your brother? is he cute? ”

you shake your head.

“yeah. i mean, i know they still send her money here and there, but they don’t speak to her at all. guess that’s their way of making sure that she’s taken care of, since they know we can’t.” you murmur.

gabi frowns.

“is she rich?” gabi asks.

falco shoves her in the side.

“you can’t just ask if she’s rich.”

“no, no. y/n’s chill, i can ask her.”

you fight the urge to laugh as you lean closer, giving gabi a coy look.

“super rich. she has a nice cushy job and again, she still gets the money from her parents. she offered to buy me a car when i moved out here so that it would be easier for me.”

gabi gives you a bright smile.

“that’s a good fucking offer. i would ask her for hundreds of things if i were you.”

you shrug.

“it’s weird. it’s just kind of…i don’t know. she offers me a lot of things like that – money, advice – she tries really hard to be a big sister to me. porco’s sweet, but there was a lot of things that he didn’t do. i’m sure he’s told her that i work hard, that i don’t really take help from people, and i guess that’s why she’s so eager to try sometimes. but it just…i don’t know, i can’t bring myself to take help from her when we don’t know each other like that.”

“she’s your sister.” falco deadpans.

you shake your head.

“it’s weird. i’m not saying that it makes sense. and she’s my sister-in-law.”

gabi gives you a nod.

“i know what you mean. you got here on your own, you’re convinced that you can get the rest of the way on your own too.”

“exactly! and i’d owe her something at the end if i did take her help.”

falco frowns at the two of you.

“you know, you both have the same individualistic behavior. i’m not sure that it serves you any purpose. you know you won’t die if you rely on people. maybe she’s just trying to help you because you guys are literally family.”

gabi shakes her head at falco.

“that’s where you’re wrong falco. sometimes, the only person you have is yourself.”

“that sounds awfully morbid.” eren states.

the three of you turn your heads to find him standing at your cubicle, backpack strung over his shoulder, as you give him a nod. you drop your laptop into the backpack, zipping it up, as gabi takes her opportunity to argue with eren.

“that’s literally something that you’ve said to me before.” gabi retorts.

“right. but i have reason to say that. you’re young. you should be at the club or something.” eren responds.

that earns him a laugh from falco, who eren shoots a wink to, before turning back to glare at gabi.

eren’s able to snag the two of you a meeting with one of the people at the forefronts of trans-cranial magnetic stimulation research. you have a sneaking inkling that eren elicited some sort of assistance from his dad to get this arranged – or that his last name was enough of a segway in the first place – and it makes you slightly nervous.

being on such uneven footing, meeting with people who are so important, when you can barely muster your one on one meetings with levi sometimes.

nile dok. he’s got a nice office in an office building downtown, one of the soaring skyscrapers embedded in the middle of the city.

“have you ever met nile dok?” you ask.

eren’s taken aback by the question as the two of you walk in through the roundabout doors, waiting in the small line at the front desk.

“yeah, uh…i’ve known him since i was a kid. he’s friends with my dad.” he murmurs.

you give him a nod, mentally deciding that you deserve a sweet treat later for being able to predict that one, as the two of you walk up to the front desk. the girl sitting at the desk has a short bob and an almost pinched smile as she looks up at the two of you.

“we have a meeting at four with nile dok. the last names are l/n and jaeger.” eren states.

she gives eren a curt nod as she quickly types the names on her computer, before giving you a satisfied smile, indicating that she’s found the appointment. she reaches to her side drawer and slides two badges across the desk, with a small paper for parking validation. but before you can reach for yours, eren snatches it out of your hand, his eyes narrowed in frustration as he holds it up in front of her face.

“what is this?” eren asks.

“her badge?” the girl retorts.

eren shakes her head.

“no, no. this is a guest pass. get her a real one.” eren asserts.

you put your hand on eren’s shoulder, squeezing hard to get his attention, as he drops the guest badge onto the desk and looks over at you.

“it’s not a big deal, eren.” you murmur.

he glares at you.

“why the hell do i deserve a badge with my first and last name on it? did i do something special to deserve that that you didn’t?” he asks.

you shrug.

“well, you were the one who got us the meeting.”

“yeah, i got us the meeting. not just me, you’re part of it too. i don’t entertain any of this guest pass bullshit, so just drop it. print her a real one, please.” eren murmurs.

he turns back to the girl sitting at the desk, who is now shooting him an apologetic grin, as she types almost frantically on her monitor. you can tell that she’s avoided confrontation too much, that eren’s eyes are a little too piercing, because she’s basically pulling the badge out of the printer to speed up the time.

and at the end of the excruciating minute, moreso for her than you, she slides a newly minted badge with your name embellished in bright bold letters. it can’t help but enrage eren more for some reason, as he turns to her one last time.

“was that so hard?” eren asks.

“it’s standard practice, i apologize. he’ll be on the third floor, last door on the right.”

eren gives her one last nod before gesturing to you to follow him, to the long glass door at the end of the hallway. the elevator is empty as the two of you step in, a sweet sugary smell – like the remnants of someone’s perfume were left over – and you clear your throat.

“thank you. for the badge.”

“just prepare yourself, that’s only the half of it. he may be useful to us now, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s going to act like an asshole when we meet with him.” eren mumbles.

the elevator whirrs to a stop and you follow eren down the hallway, your eyes whizzing past all of the certifications and awards that are printed on the wall. you note that eren’s dad’s name is included on some of them, that there are pictures of them standing on big stages – cutting ribbons together, holding glass awards – as you wait in the two chairs at the end of the hall.

“he’s an asshole now?” you whisper.

eren looks over at you, almost like he’s pissed that you’ve even stomached the courage to ask that question, before he slightly slumps in his chair. his hand is shaking at his side in the slightest, his fingers curled into a fist, as he gives you a nod.

“he’s been an asshole. maybe even bigger than my dad.”

you memorize that sentence and catalog it to your memory.

the disdain in his tone. you never realized that eren wasn’t particularly fond of his dad. and figure that it must be irritating every time he comes around the lab.

the door opens, a girl gesturing for the two of you to follow her into the office. eren gives you one last tight lipped smile as you enter the room, overwhelmed all together.

the first thing you note is the smell. it nearly burns your nose – the sharp smell of the alcohol mixed with the heavy smell of the cigarette smoke – as you sit in the chair closest to the door. eren’s at your side, taking his jacket off, before handing it to you and whispering under his breath.

“cover your legs.”

you can feel your stomach churn as you listen to his instructions, draping his jacket over the exposed part of your legs, and balling your fists underneath the fabric.

the second thing that you notice is that nile dok doesn’t look nearly as good as he did in the photos outside. you have a small inkling that the photos outside have to be photoshopped, that he didn’t look half as haggard as he did right now, slumped over his desk chair, and that most of the things that were in this room, were meant to keep up appearances.

the designer suit that he was wearing. the embossed stationery. mahogany wood.

“is this your girlfriend, eren?” nile asks.

you swallow hard. surely he couldn’t be serious.

“she’s my colleague. why would i bring my girlfriend to a work meeting?” eren seethes.

“your dad used to do that before he married carla. thought you were taking notes out of his playbook.”

eren rolls his eyes.

“i would rather roll over in my grave before i did that. and my mom was his colleague too. she wasn’t his girlfriend back then.” eren notes.

nile gives him a boisterous laugh, smacking one of his fists down onto the table – enough to make nearly all of the belongings shake on the desk – before turning over to you. you immediately divert your eyes, noting that the carpet has some very dried out stains, one that take a trained eye to notice, and that he must knock over things quiet often.

and force someone to clean it up.

“what’s your name, pretty?” he asks.

“y/n l/n.” you respond.

“l/n? are you from around here?” he asks.

you shake your head.

“i’m from marley.”

nile gives you a nod.

“what do your parents do research in?”

you bite down on your lip, enough to draw a pool of warm, metallic blood into your mouth.

“they’re business owners back in marley. they don’t do research.” you note.

“oh. what type of business?”

“they own a pizza parlor.”

nile gives you a strange look, one that’s enough to summon eren back into the conversation again.

“they’ve probably worked more in one day than you’ve worked in your entire life, nile. but that’s besides the point. we’ve come here to ask you some questions. both of us.”

“i can drive.” eren offers.

“sorry, what?”

“i can drive. you seem tired.” eren states.

you shake your head.

“i’m fine.”

“you don’t have to be so self-sacrificing all the time. i can tell that you’re tired, that the meeting was more jargon that was really relevant to us because that dumbass was trying to show off, that him being an asshole gets tiring very fast, so just let me drive us home.” eren states.

the tone in his voice indicates that what he’s saying is final, enough for you to relent and place the keys in the palm of his hand before walking around to duck into the passenger seat. and you’re not sure what it is – the fact that eren seemed to be arguing on your behalf, that he seemed more approachable when he was so tired, when the two of you had a common goal – that you ask.

“nile seems very close with your dad.”

“what?” eren asks.

you shrug.

“the pictures and the certificates and stuff. your dad was in all of them.” you murmur.

“oh, right. nile’s kind of his prodigy. he used to live in my house.”

you frown.

“nile is younger than your dad? and he lived in your house?”

“y/n, he’s only a few years older than us.”

“what? why does he look so…ugly? and old?”

eren coughs out a laugh. you look over to note that he’s smiling, that he’s got a dimple on his left side, and that he looks awfully attractive when he does that.

“that’s what being an asshole does to you.” eren notes.

you nod.

“he’s into the exact type of research that my dad does. he came from…from basically nothing and my dad helped him. gave him money for his projects, invested in the company. now, nile’s got a bigger head than he knows what to do with and he feels indebted to my dad so he kisses his ass whatever chance he gets.” eren states.

“why were you so upset about the badge?” you ask.

“they’re doing that to purposely undermine you. because you’re a woman.” eren notes.

you can feel your throat dry.

“really?” you whisper.

“i’ve met hundreds of people like nile. you’re going to meet hundreds of people like nile too. and they do shit like that – purposely choose to omit your name from badges so they can call you sweetheart, act like you’re just there as an accessory and not there to actually make conversation – that stuff. just think about it. i listed your name first on our appointment. and yet they still chose to put my name on the badge and not yours.”

you slump down into your chair.

“oh. i didn’t realize.”

“even down to the very principle, learning someone’s name is a simple sign of respect. the bare minimum of what you can do when you’re conversing with someone. and yet they can barely even humble themselves to do that, because they think they’re more important than you.” eren finishes.

you decide that it’s enough of your curious questions. only because the rest of your curious questions are ones that you sincerely can’t ask.

did they do that to your mom?

is that why it annoys you so much when other people do it to me?

is your mom still a researcher?

you reach for the aux cord that’s hanging in the middle of the seat, before navigating your way to the playlist of scores that you had made to share with eren. the music is quiet, the instrumental nearly lulling your overwhelmed brain to sleep as you press your forehead against the window.

“i like alan. from this score.”

“you’ve watched the imitation game?” you ask.

eren gives you a nod.

“it’s a good movie.” eren responds.

you smile.

“that movie makes me feel better sometimes. to know that women were part of the forefront of science, even back then. and they had hurdles, endless hurdles that i couldn’t even begin to understand, and they’ve paved the way for me.”

you take a deep breath.

“just a reminder that i shouldn’t give up when things are hard for me because they didn’t either, you know?” you whisper.

eren takes a beat before responding.

“granted, it’s unfair you’ve got so many hurdles when you’re already so brilliant to begin with. it’s honestly kind of fucking ridiculous sometimes.”

you can’t fight the urge to smile.

“you think i’m brilliant?” you jest.

eren rolls his eyes.

“oh, come on. you know you’re brilliant.” eren responds.

“what?”

“you’re the only person in the program who got in without doing the bridge program. you must have some insane work under your belt for erwin, levi, and hange to trust you after meeting you just once or twice. over people they’ve known and taught for years by the way.”

you narrow your eyes at him.

“i’m not the only person in the program who got in without doing the bridge program. you’re forgetting someone quite important.”

eren rolls his eyes.

“still. you’re brilliant. would do you well to realize that now before some idiot like nile dok tries to make himself more important than you.”

you look over at him and smile.

“okay. okay, yeah. i promise.”

“and hell. you know how to argue with people. i know you’ve got it in you. you’ve been doing with it since you’ve met me. maybe redirect some of your irritation with me towards people like him.”

you lean back.

“oh, i’ll doubt i’ll be able to do that. you just bring out something special in me, eren.” you deadpan.

“oh, i’m sure.” eren retorts back.

an: anyways

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#ANYWYAS PLEASE READ THIS GUYS I LOVE RONNIE AND HER WORKS SO MUCH!#💌 confessions.#seeingivywrites!#eren x reader #🌬️recs.

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