#until years later it comes up in frat conversation and they're both like '????'

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

I think Eldigan makes a post titled "AITA for disapproving of my friend marrying a woman he first met less than a month ago?", which, due to particular details and phrases in the original post, devolves into multiple commenters asking OP if he's sure that he and his friend weren't actually dating in college, and remains up for only about two hours before Eldigan deletes the post and nukes his entire account.

Several years later, the post is still a regular point of reference among certain friend groups at Garreg Mach University.

So most of the main casts in the Three Frat Houses Extended Universe are people who are probably more likely to try to work out interpersonal conflicts by talking directly with the people affected and getting advice from other friends/family/colleagues/classmates, rather than taking the conflict to an anonymous jury of the internet to be judged; however, given everything we've established in this setting, there's got to be at least a few absolutely legendary "Am I The Asshole" posts floating around.

[zambehnation]

so this came about because S2 Jaskier looked a little emo and my brain was like S1 Jaskier= romantic, breezy, alt-folk music think The Lumineers and S2 Jaskier= MCR and I was listening to "I dont love you" and thought what if Jaskier veered into the black eyeliner, dark reds and black clothing emo musician phase of the 2000s after a "break up" with Geralt?

Geraskier Modern AU prompt:

Jaskier and Geralt met in college. Jaskier was a double major in musical theory and theater with an alt-folk band that played in that one hipster cafe across campus that catered to art students in the late afternoons and held dnd nights for the nerdy kids every tuesday evening. He knew everyone on campus, was well liked, was invited to every party by every kind of student from the goths to the frat boys and one friday evening after midterms- when everyone else was out getting plastered and making bad choices and he, himself was drunk off his ass, thinking the library would be a decent place for a nap, he'd come across Geralt looking miserable and lonely and studying what appeared to be a giant tome with numbers and drawn figures on a friday evening!!! And he'd just felt bad and Geralt had pretty white hair and he couldnt help the clawing need in his gut to adopt this person like one of those grumpy stray cats he sometimes feeds outside the dorms. Ofcourse, Geralt had hissed and clawed when Jaskier slid into the seat across from him and tried to strike up a conversation. Ofcourse, Geralt eventually ran out annoyed but Jaskier was nothing if not a persistent little shit that kept showing up, unexpectedly until Geralt begrudgingly gave in and they became friends.

Ofcourse, they also fall in love at some point, because why not? but neither of them want to destroy a good thing and Jaskier thinks Geralt is straighter than an arrow and Geralt thinks he couldnt possibly compete with all the beautiful people Jaskier falls into brief and intense situationships with and though Jaskier flirts he'd never be seriously interested and really theyre both just morons.

Fast forward 10 years into their unlikely friendship, Geralt with a not exciting but stable job as an engineer, met Yennefer at some company gathering and he and Jaskier have a falling out because Jaskier doesnt like Yennefer but he was trying so hard not to show it and come off as a jealous bitch and Geralt wants to try with someone else because 10 years is a long time to be in love with someone who was unable to be serious about anyone and he thought he wanted normal- white picket fence, and a kid, kind of love not the wait for your messy bestfriend to get his shit together and actually see you kind of love and yes, they're morons.

Fast forward, a kid, a divorce, 5 years later and Jaskier becomes a successful musician and Geralts teenage daughter Ciri loves him and Geralt, wanting to make his adopted daughter happy is on a mission to get tickets to a sold out concert for her birthday. Only, can he really just slide into the dms, hope for the best and not reopen old wounds?

And what if, after all this time, there's still something there?

[ripspaghet]

bff | 03

↳ series m.list | 00 | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 |

→ pairing: yoongi x reader

→ word count: 4,062

Prologue Summary; Your best friend’s boyfriend takes an unhealthy interest in you and just as he shows up something from your past starts to creep up on you again. Could this strange and mysterious man have something to do with it? And should you trust him, or your instincts to run far, far away from him?

→ warnings: none yet.

“____, come on. I know I can be boring when I teach but, please, at least act like you’re listening?” The odor of old books and dust wafted through musky air. Rarely any students come here anymore, opting to study elsewhere or not at all. So, it’s fairly quiet except for the few crickets jumping around outside the glass doors of the stuffy library. 

“Ah, uh, sorry.” You pull your attention away from the tiled floor to look at your friend. He’s leaning over the table your both sat at. His long body looks awkward scrunched up in the small library chair, almost like he’s a grown man sitting in something made for a toddler. 

 A sigh passes his lips, “Let’s just call it a day. If you can’t focus it’s better to just get some sleep and study another time.” You nod along with his suggestion. He was beyond right. There’s no way you’re gonna be able to focus any time soon. Not when those dreams are still looming around in your mind and you remain unable to properly remember anything, which is no surprise but only furthers your annoyance.

“Oh, that reminds me! Sorry, I almost forgot to tell you. I’m going to be out of town for the next few days and won’t be able to help you study. Don’t panic though, I have a friend that agreed to help you until I’m back. He knows all about this stuff. He took it last year.”

Your shoulders fall limp, “You what?”

He began sliding his textbooks back into his bag with his other belongings, “I know, but it can’t be helped. My family is having a getaway and my parents wanted me to take a break with them.”

You click your tongue, “Only Kim Namjoon’s parents would want their kid to take a break from school. My mom might have my head if I ever even thought about taking a break. She’d think I was trying to drop out.”

Namjoon chuckled heartily, “I’ll be back before you know it. Don’t stress. My friend probably knows more about this stuff than me anyways. I’ll text you his number.”

“Is your friend Einstein??”

“Something like that, I guess.”

“Seriously,” You groan, losing your composure, and leaning back into your chair, “how could you do this to me? What if this guy tries to assault me or something? You can’t just leave me with some random.”

“You know, the more you hang out with Jimin the more you start to sound like him. This guy isn’t like that, trust me.”

“Jimin? What’s that supposed to-” A fist slams down on the table and you and Namjoon nearly jump out of your seats, “You’re leaving?!”

“Oh, Taehyung,” Namjoon laughs nervously, regaining his composure. 

“Who’s gonna help me with my creative writing class?! I came here to ask you for help.” 

You raise an eyebrow at the boy, “What the hell are you in a creative writing class for?” Taehyung doesn’t spare you a glance, keeping his eyes fixed on Namjoon, who’s checking twice for all his belongings.

“____ can help you with creative writing. She’s good with that stuff.”

Taehyung’s head whips over to you his eyes widened, “Really?”

“What?“ You adjust yourself to sit up straight in your chair, "Namjoon, don’t tell him that, I’m too busy as is. I can’t help him. Absolutely not.”

“Surely you could squeeze in a minute or two.”

“Namjoon,”

“It can’t be helped.”

“Namjoon.” 

He just smiles at you knowingly, “I’ll be going. The weekend calls. Have fun you two.”

“Wait-”

“Bye, ____. Get home safe.” Your eyes flicker over to Taehyung and you squint up at him in irritation. He’s looking at you expectantly, tapping his foot.

"I’m sure Jimin can help you." 

"You-”

“I don’t have the time.” You gather up your belongings, not sparing Taehyung another glance as you make your escape.

You’d made a habit out of avoiding Taehyung since you’d met him, as you did for all the frat guys at your university. It wasn’t anything personal - it's just that the whole school knows that they're bad news. In other words, party every night until we can’t walk straight anymore and mess around with as many girls as we want, types of bad news.

Your feet drag lazily across water-covered concrete once you make it outside. It had stopped raining for the time being, but that didn’t change the fact that it was now below freezing out due to the sun being replaced by a moon that was hidden behind dull rain clouds. The streets were empty aside from the few people making their way home from a late shift at work. 

“You will soon.”

You grimace. Why is it so familiar? A voice very gravelly and intense, where have heard it before? You purse your lips in thought. Just at the remembrance of a voice, red begins to color your cheeks and your hands grow clammy. What is this? You’d never felt this way before. Except when reading something similar to a thrilling romance book. The dream had been so seemingly real, the voice so close to your ear that it was impossible to deny how intimate the situation had been.

You groan in frustration. Jimin can’t possibly be right about it being a wet dream though. “Right, because you never talk with any other man besides me.” You roll your eyes. You should’ve punched him in the gut right then. Plenty of guys talk to you, it’s just that you’re so obviously uninterested that they grow bored easily. You’re not interested in just some fling.

“Excuse me?” A tap on your shoulder drags you out of your whirlpool of thoughts, “You dropped this.” You turn, a bit startled to see a gold necklace dangled from elegant fingers, the gold clashing with the pale skin it rests on. 

Deja vu.

“Oh, thank you.” You take the necklace from his fingers. It must have fallen from around your neck without you noticing.

“Oh,” 

You lifted your gaze up from the gold now resting in the palm of your hand and meet brown orbs, that almost come off as black under the harsh yellow-toned street lamps. His dark hair hangs just above his eyes in unruly waves.

“Yoongi, ” 

An expression of slight uninterest bores into your eyes despite his surprised tone, “What are you doing out so late?” Your hands attempt to bury themselves deeper into their pockets, a knot forming in the pit of your stomach as a familiar feeling of warmth consuming your chest.

“It not that late, is it?” You force a small smile that probably ended up looking a nervous cry for help. 

He glances around at the dark city surrounding the two of you, “Seeing as it twelve o'clock at night, I’d say it is.“ 

"I was studying at the library with a friend. Lost track of time I suppose.” Another awkward smile.

“I’ll walk you home.”

“N-no, I’m fine. You don’t need to do that. My place isn’t too far and I always walk home late. I’ll be fine.”

“I insist.” His voice is firm and strict, making his words come off as more of a demand, rather than a suggestion.

“Ok, I-I guess it’s fine, ”

The walk home is quiet. You don’t spare another glance in Yoongi’s direction despite the taunting urge to. It didn’t help any that it felt like his eyes were constantly glancing over. How had the atmosphere between the two changed so much in such little time? How come you felt so utterly scandalous under his gaze? You can’t help but feel your insides coil as silence settles over the two of you and remain in it for the rest of the way to your dorm. And despite a nagging feeling telling you otherwise, nothing happens.

The next day is another cold one, but instead of there being snow, there’s a thin layer of ice stuck to the ground as gentle rain pats down against it. Namjoon texted you his friend’s number and address this morning and informed you he’d already talked to him about it. And as per usual, decisions were made without your consent. It was bad enough you had to get up early on a weekend for work, but now instead of head straight home to bed, you have to rush off to study with some random.

"I’m so sick of the smell of coffee. I go home, my clothes smell like coffee. I go to bed, my bed smells like coffee. Drag my ass out of bed and come here, to smell what? Coffee. It’s not even nice smelling coffee either. It’s bitter and too strong, like diesel gasoline.” You keep your eyes fixed on the coffee shop’s glass doors, opting to wait for the next custom rather than acknowledge your babbling coworker. 

Namjoon told you that his friend had no other free time to spare. So, it was in the morning, or never.

“I mean, can’t they at least make it smell good? Heaven knows it already tastes like crap.” You learned rather quickly after taking this job that entertaining this man’s ranting would only add to the flames. You pity the people who walk in unknowingly and spark up a conversation with him simply for his good looks, to later find out that his mouth never shuts while doing something he despises, which would pertain to his entire job. 

“____, are you even listening to me?” His voice goes up an octave, bringing his eyebrows along for the ride.

Reluctantly you turn your head away from the doors and stare blandly at his wide rounded eyes and parted lips, “Yes, Seokjin, I’m hearing every word of what you’re saying.”

He studies you for a moment before speaking again, something he rarely does, “Ah, that’s right, you’re not a morning person. I’m sure you have it much worse. I can’t imagine already being in a bad mood and having to come here.”

“Mhm,”

“And the customers are always so rude in the morning. I don’t know how you manage." 

You don’t know how you’ve been able to keep yourself from shoving a bag of coffee beans down his throat, "Yeah,”

Work drags on as normal and as soon as the clock strikes 9:40 am you hang up your apron and fly out the door with the speed of light, completely ignoring Seokjin who calls after you, nagging about you not bothering to even tell him goodbye. 

Once outside you follow your phone’s navigation down multiple streets, your hood up while you grip an arm around your waist in a sad attempt to retain even the smallest amount of body heat. Winter, what a season that you hated to love.

“You have arrived at your destination.”

You halt. Well, that wasn’t all too far. Looking up your gaze meets a tall luxurious building.

“Madam, may I assist you?" 

You startle not realizing the man standing next to the building’s entryway, "Uh, yes? Maybe? I’m meeting a friend of mine. Would you happen to know someone by the name of Namjoon?” In your awestruck confusion, you figured that maybe the mention of Namjoon’s name would help in some way. You mean, Namjoon is the one who recommended the person who supposedly lives in, what appears to be, a tower of silver and gold.

“Ah, yes, follow me, Madam. I will show you to the floor." 

"Ok,” Your voice turns into a small whisper as you look up the building again, feeling the sheer intimidation it radiates. This can’t be the place. 

You follow the doorman inside as he leads you to an elevator at the center of a spacious lobby. Seeing as how early it is in the morning it’s not unprecedented that the whole place is empty. Most rich people probably leave as early as five in the morning to get a head start for the day, you’d assume.

“The Master is in the penthouse so we will be going rather high up. If you have a fear of heights I’d recommend avoiding the windows.” Your stomach turns as the elevator doors shut and you’re lurched up. The elevator dings each time it passes a floor and eventually you start to think that, maybe you’re going to hurl out of the top of the building and fall all the way back down to the ground because how could there be this many floors?? You supposed it was a fitting fate for one as tired as you. At least then you be getting some kind of rest.

“The Master?”

“All will be explained by the Master himself.” The doorman doesn’t even spare you a glance, his attention remaining on the rising floor number. 

“Oh,” You nod and look away wondering what exactly Namjoon had signed you up for this time. Perhaps you were about to mean a famous business leader or a master of the arts? Knowing Namjoon had set this up left nothing off the table. That guy could probably arrange a meeting with the president of the United States with his whole family’s well regarded social status.

“Here we are, Madam. Be sure to push the doorbell before entering. The Master treasurers his privacy."  The doorman bows his head and you step out of the elevator before closing the doors with the press of a button and ascending back down. 

You turn to face the other way and push the doorbell to a pair of tall smooth wooden doors as instructed. But as you wait nothing happens. You hear nothing as a whole minute ticks away and you debate just going back down in the elevator to head home for your bed. Failing any of your classes isn’t an option for you though. You hesitantly ring the bell again and pull out your phone double-checking the address just in case. It wouldn’t be all too surprising if you were in the wrong place. What kind of person around your age, that just finished school a year ago, could afford a place like this?

Once again no one comes to let you in and your impatiens begin to teeter. You swear, if this guy made you come all the way out here this early in the morning just to stand you up, you’d kill Namjoon. So, with that thought in mind, you place your index finger back on the doorbell and let it have a piece of your mind. The dinging rings out over and over again. And finally, after what felt like a thousand dings you hear a door slam from somewhere inside the penthouse, then muffled swear words and stomping just before the large door is swung open so fast you feared it might be yanked off its hinges.

"What the hell do you want from me?!” A familiar head of messy black hair, that’s even messier than normal is laid over the wrong side of his head makes you gasp. His eyes are squinted and puffy as they stare back at you in an uncouth manner.

“Uh-”

“Wait,” He’s eyes get bigger and he reaches up to rub the sleep out of his eyes almost like he’s seeing things, “____?”

Your eyes dart away awkwardly as you try to find words to say in response, “I’ll be leaving now.” You turn on your heel to run for the elevator.

“Shit, are you Namjoon’s friend that needs tutoring? Fuck, I completely forgot about that.” You could tell from the sound of his voice he was running his fingers through that messy black hair of his, but you continued walking. Fuck that guy for being attractive. You’re getting the hell out of here. No more coincidental run-ins.

“Quite alright, no need to apologize. I’ll be going now.”

“No!” He ran out in front of you to block the elevator buttons, nearly falling down in his haste to stop you, “I mean, ” He paused hardening the expression, “I promised Namjoon I’d help you. You can’t just leave.” You looked him up and down. It was strange seeing this, a side of him normally only a girlfriend or best friend would see when you’d only just met. And you barely being qualified enough to be called an acquaintance made it so it shouldn’t have been a problem to feel so awkward, if it hadn’t been for a tiny part you that was thinking about how good Min Yoongi, not only looked in casual clothes but looked without a shirt in black baggy joggers, with bedhead, sporting a sleepy voice. In fact, the more you looked at the man the more pissed off you became. How dare he tempt you in sullying your friendship with Mina by looking like that.

Suddenly taking notice in your lingering gaze Yoongi tried composing himself, putting his hand atop his head in an attempt to hide his mess of hair, “Namjoon will kill me if I go back on my word. Just come inside.”

“Put some clothes on.” You spun around in annoyance, striding into the penthouse. In all honesty, you’d rather jump from this floor to the ground than stay here, but Yoongi had reminded you why you were here. Namjoon is gone and won’t be back until the day of the presentations and you know there’s no way in hell you’d manage on your own with an unfinished project that you knew would remain that way if not given a helping hand. You know yourself well enough to know that being uninformed and out of ideas would lead to you throwing in the towel without having even tried to make a fully finished piece.

Yoongi was close on your heels, shutting the door behind him, “Actually, I thought I’d tutor you naked. Just to switch things up a bit.”

“Excuse me?!” You spun again almost sure you’d get whiplash. Yoongi was just watching your reaction in amusement and it dawned on you he was being sarcastic.

“Just a joke, ____.”

You glared, “Yeah? Well, I’d appreciate if you didn’t joke about such things with me.”

He chuckled almost endearingly, “Why?”

“Why? What do you- You know what? This is inappropriate. I’m leaving.” Judging from this conversation you had no doubt in your mind that this man had the capability of cheating on your best friend. 

You went for the door but Yoongi grabbed your upper arm before you could get past him, “You really shouldn’t take me seriously, ____. Now, stop being a child and let’s get this over with.” He removed his hand from around your arm as if it had never been there, to begin with, and walks away from you. “I’m going to put a shirt on and I’ll meet you back in here. Make yourself comfortable.” You feel like you’ve just undergone a full 360 in a short amount of time since you entered his home. Why are you here again?

Surveying up his home you walk further into what seems to be a rather cozy living room. All the colors in the room are either warm or extremely dark, except for the occasional white pillow or blanket laying around. Even the floor is tiled with warm reddish wood. The pitch-black walls contrast against the brightness flooding in through a window that covers the whole outer wall of the room. It’s similar to homes you’d only ever seen in magazines or movies.

“Wow,” you breathe out and take a seat down on a long black leather couch in the center in the room. The place has probably been professionally decorated just to Yoongi’s liking.

“Would you like something to drink? Have you eaten?”

You jump, startled, “N-no, I’m alright.”

He nods and holds a notebook out to you now sported a baggy black sweatshirt and unruly combed hair, “Here,” You hesitantly take it from him as he takes a seat next to you, “these are my old notes from when I was in school. They should be helpful. Is there anything in particular that you’re having trouble with?”

“Ah,” Right that’s what you came here for, “I’m not very good at this music stuff which is why I needed Namjoon’s help. Its extra credit for me is all. I’m majoring in film.” You pull your bag from your side, taking out all your own notes, a few hefty textbooks, and your laptop.

“What is your focus for the project then?” He leans over you watching as you open up all the proper program on your laptop. You nervously fidget, feeling your skin heat up and try leaning away from him without it being noticeable, “I want to present a completed song.” Yoongi gives you a look of ‘You can’t be fucking serious right?’ And you sigh, “Listen, I know I don’t even major in music and don’t really know what I’m doing, so it’s dumb of me to try this. But, I have a great love for music even though it isn’t my major. If I do something with this,” You point at your laptop screen, “I want it to be my very best. I really wanna try at it and I think I can hit all the points, I just need the opinion of a professional.”

He looks at you for a while before finally speaking, “You know, me helping you with this is kind of cheating.” You rose an eyebrow at him, gesturing that he elaborates. “It wouldn’t be fair to all the other students. Can’t you just choose a different route? Like, I don’t know? Doing a piece you’d put into a film or something? Something a little more down your alley?”

You shake your head, “I’ve already started. I don’t have the time to scrap anything and restart. Here,” You turn your attention back to the laptop and plug in a pair headphones then hand them to Yoongi, “Just listen and give me your thoughts.” Reluctantly he takes the headphones from you and puts them on. You press play and watch him closely, gauging his reaction as his breathe hitches not even five minutes into the song.

You quickly pause it and he takes off the headphones confused, “Was that you?”

“Was it bad? I suppose I can use auto-tune. That’s not breaking any rules right?”

“No, no, I mean,” He stops mid-sentence staring at you.

You turn away, facing your laptop, “You’re right, maybe I should just scrap it and start over.”

“No!” You flinched away from Yoongi at his sudden outburst, “No, you shouldn’t do that.” He’s to the laptop this time, studying all of your work, “It’s very good. It caught me off guard.” He puts the headphones back on then presses play again. You stare at him, in a loss for words. It was one thing to have Namjoon tell you your work was good when he was still in school, same as you. Yoongi, on the other hand, is already a music producer and judging by your surroundings he’s a very successful one.

“Is this all you have so far?” Yoongi slides the headphones back off, eyes on the screen of your laptop.

“Yeah…This is more of the ending rather than the beginning. I have parts written out and I’ve tried doing them myself like this but it just doesn’t sound the way I want it.”

Yoongi nods, “This has lots of potential. I’d like to see the beginning half. I think you can make an amazing piece with just this alone. I like how you’ve mixed the two genres. I can understand that it wouldn’t translate when using only your voice. With the way it flows, you’ll need to almost flip back a forth with two voices. Doing that will also add to the overall emotion in the song seeing as it’s a romantic piece. You’ll need someone with a lower octave that balances while with your own sound. Finding someone to do that should be hard as your voice is pretty enough on its own to captivate any listener. The difficult part is blending the just right amount of both that’s not overdoing it.”

You nod trying to ignore the flush you feel in your cheeks as you watch him flip from line to line on your recordings. 

“I’m impressed.” He looks up to you and instantly looks away.

“Thank you.”

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tags

@im-emo-motherfuckers @team-wang-puppy @seokchella