#not my hair thank god but something more sinister.... dropping out of uni
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i think i fucked up
#not my hair thank god but something more sinister.... dropping out of uni#bc i havent legally dropped out yet bc my game plan was to withdraw all the money from my student account so i wouldnt be able to enroll#but. now im thinking that might not be possible after all#and it costs around €45 to drop out and im flat broke AND i need to drop out BEFORE the academic year starts otherwise the tuition#will start coming in and as i said im flat broke so now im like . god. what do i DO#and ofc im jobless which is also terrible........... kms#piksla.txt
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hiiii i really love your blog and i may or may not have spent the weekend binge reading your posts.... 😂 anyway i’ve had a kinda shitty day and i was wondering if you could maybe write something with james x regulus? if not that’s totally fine haha thank you!!!!!!
Hi nonny! I’m pretty sure this ask is like years old and I’m really sorry it took me so long! You probably don’t even follow me anymore but if you do I hope your days have gotten better! But either way here’s a little something for you:
***
“Oi, Jamie,” Sirius said, poking his head into James’ room. “Just a reminder that my brother is coming to visit for the weekend.”
James groaned. “Sirius, no!” he complained, shutting his chemistry book. “You’ll disappear with Remus for the entire weekend and I’ll be stuck babysitting your brother, who I’ve never even met!”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “First of all, Reg is only a year younger than us, you won’t be babysitting anyone. Second of all, we’re all going to a party at Mckinnon’s tonight so you won’t be stuck alone with him the whole time.”
“Just part of the time?”
Sirius shrugged. “I mean I’ll do my best…”
“God, you’re the worst fucking friend,” James grumbled, opening his chemistry book back up and attempting to cram for his test later that day.
“Oh and Jamie?”
“Yes?
“Don’t be a prick, alright?
Sirius ducked out of the way as a chemistry book went flying towards his head.
***
“Honey, we’re home,” Sirius sing-songed as he arrived back from picking Regulus up from the train station. James sighed and got out of bed, figuring he might as well try to be nice to the intruder. It wasn’t that James was opposed to people visiting for the weekend, it was just that Sirius and Remus were attached at the hip, and James hadn’t been making any progress with Evans. He knew it was selfish, but he hated other people being happy when he was fairly miserable. The last thing he wanted to do this weekend was hang around some snotty-nosed younger sibling.
He stepped out into the hallway and saw the Black brothers together for the first time. It wasn’t hard to tell they were related, same inky black hair, same impossibly high cheekbones, matching grey eyes. But where Sirius was all rough edges and rock and roll, Regulus was all smooth and posh. Unlike Sirius, who kept his hair long and shoulder length and a decent amount of stubble on his face, Regulus had his hair styled, cut short on the side and long on top to fall into his eyes in a very chic way. He was also clean-shaven and James could only imagine he had all kinds of fancy potions and after-creams to give him that effect.
“Hello,” Regulus said, holding his hand out to James, already being ever so polite. “You must be James. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” James said, making the handshake a little rougher than was strictly necessary.
Sirius grinned broadly and threw his arms around each of their shoulders, drawing them close to him. “My two brothers, together at last!”
“Gerroff,” James growled, shoving Sirius away and into Regulus.
Sirius shrugged and hugged Regulus more thoroughly. “I’m so happy you’re here!”
Regulus blushed, his eyes meeting James and then darting away quickly. “Yes, you kept saying on the ride over here.”
James snorted. “I’ll put some tea on.”
***
The party was already in full swing by the time they’d gotten there. Marlene lived in a flat off campus with a few other girls and even though it was bigger than the dormitories, it still couldn’t really fit the amount of people currently occupying it. Just moving around the party was like swimming through jelly. James had spilled at least a cup and a half of beer on himself just from trying to navigate the party.
As predicted, Sirius ditched them the moment they got to the party and he found the familiar head of his favorite tawny-haired nerd. James hadn’t exactly been keeping the closest eye on Regulus since then but he was slightly alarmed when he realized Reg wasn’t close by. “Fucking great,” James mumbled to himself, trying to finish his drink just as someone knocked his elbow and the entire contents of his red solo cup splashed over his face. “Fuck this.”
James edged his way towards the door and somehow managed to get it open. Getting outside was a relief, being able to smell something other than booze and sweat. He shoved his glass up to the top of his head and lifted his shirt up to wipe his face clean. When he replaced his glasses, he noticed a figure in his periphery. He turned his head to find Regulus leaning against the building smoking a cigarette. He looked a bit like an ad from a magazine, the way his leg was bent so his foot could rest against the wall behind him, his face tilted back to reveal the pale expanse of his neck. James swallowed thickly. He was absolutely not going to fancy his best mate’s little brother. Regulus was Off Limits.
James walked down the front steps of the building and stood in front of Regulus. “Does Sirius know you smoke?” he asked, raising a judgmental eyebrow at the younger man.
“Is it his business?” Regulus countered, taking a long drag from his ciggy and blowing it intentionally in James’ face in a very obvious fuck off.
James waved his hand in front of his face to clear the smoke and exhaled loudly in disapproval. Christ, he sounded so much like his dad. “You’re nothing like what I imagined.”
“Yeah?” Reg said, flicking ash onto the ground below. “What were you imagining? A toddler?”
James shrugged. “You hear the words little brother and you’re not exactly what people picture, alright?”
“Sirius never showed you a picture of me?” Regulus asked, sounding a little hurt by the prospect.
“He has,” James said quickly, not wanting to give Reg the wrong idea. Sirius actually talked about him a lot, constantly worrying about Reg being stuck at home with their awful parents while Sirius was at University. At least next year Reg would be joining them and Sirius could stop being so concerned all the bloody time. “I just think most of the pictures he’s shown me were from when you were a lot younger. Still had your spots.”
Regulus smiled and took another drag. “He’s shown me pictures of you too,” he said, his smile becoming a little more sinister. “The one when you fell asleep drunk and he glued the deer horns to your head.”
James groaned in humiliation. “The next time I see Sirius he’s a dead man!”
Regulus laughed and dropped his cigarette, sliding his designer shoes over it to put it out. “What are friends for, right?”
“Yeah,” James said, trying not to sound sad as he said it. He was happy for Sirius and Remus, he really was. The first few months of Uni had been torture, watching Sirius and Remus dance around each other, both clearly interested but not saying it. It had been a relief to see them finally get over their shit and get together. But that didn’t mean James didn’t miss the old days of the three of them being friends, not that they weren’t still friends, but things had changed.
***
Sirius, of course, went over to Remus’ after the party, leaving James to get Regulus set up on their beat up old sofa. He pulled out the only spare blankets they had, just a thin sheet, and did his best to make it look comfortable. He showed Regulus how to work the telly, in case he wasn’t ready for bed, and then disappeared into his own room.
His curiosity got the best of him and he found Regulus’ instagram fairly easily. He thanked his lucky stars that it wasn’t a private account because having Reg know that he was looking was a bit too embarrassing. He began scrolling through the pictures and felt his mouth go dry. Reg knew how to take an amazing photo. James stared in disbelief that the same guy that was currently on his shitty sofa, watching what sounded to be That 70’s Show, could be the same person in these photos.
His eyes were glued to the screen as he swiped through picture after picture, his body heating up in response. Not good, he thought, trying and failing to remind himself that this was Sirius’ younger brother. Kill me now.
He was just about to slid his hand under the covers and do something about the ache between his legs when the door to his room opened. James dropped his phone in surprise and sat up, hoping he wasn’t tenting the blankets in an obvious way.
Regulus made his way over and slipped into James’ bed without asking. James stared at him, his throat working to try and swallow, and he watched in horror and Reg made himself comfortable.
“What are you doing?” James asked, his mind racing, trying to think of anything to make his erection go away.
Regulus shrugged. “It’s freezing and your sofa is a piece of shit.”
“Then go sleep in Sirius’ bed,” James said, dragging his hand over his face. This could not be happening to him.
“It would still be freezing,” Regulus rationalized, sinking further into the blankets. “This way we can share body heat.”
James stared at him incredulously.
Regulus sighed. “Don’t be such a baby, James. Just think of it as survival mode, right?”
James nodded and got back under the covers, taking care that no part of him was touching Regulus. “Good night,” he said awkwardly, his eyes wide open. He didn’t think he’d be getting much sleep.
“Good night.”
***
James woke up feeling good. He was warm and comfortable, and except for the arm he was sleeping on that had gone numb, he felt wholly relaxed. It took a moment for his brain to clear the fog and realize that he was spooning Reg. His nose was pressed against the nape of Reg’s neck and they were slotted together from that point of contact down to their feet. James’ crotch was pressed against Reg’ bum and Christ there was no way he couldn’t feel how hard James was.
Regulus began to stir, his body shifting and James’ hand flew up and grabbed him by the hips to still him. Reg turned his head and smiled wickedly. “Problem, Potter?” he teased, moving his hips just to be a little shit.
James ripped himself away and tore the covers off, heading into the bathroom. He turned the water to as cold as he could stand it and stood under the spray. Not good, he thought having a crisis right there in the shower. Sure, he’d been attracted to blokes before. This wasn’t a sexual identity crisis because James was bi and proud and would kick the shit out of anyone that had a problem with that.
The issue was that this was Sirius’ brother and James was fairly certain Sirius would never forgive him. And more importantly Regulus was only there for the weekend. There was no point to be getting all hot and bothered about it. Except that next year Reg would be at this school with them. Shit, James was so utterly and completely fucked.
Once he’d calmed down, he stepped out of the shower and slung a towel around his waist. He ventured out into the hallway and found Regulus waiting for him. “Have a good cold shower, did we?” he asked, his eyes shinning knowingly.
“Fuck off, Reg,” James growled, pushing past him towards his room.
“You liked one of my pictures,” Reg said to James’ retreating back.
“What?” James asked, spinning around, droplets falling from his skin onto the floor.
Regulus took a step towards him but didn’t close the distance between them any further. “Last night, you liked one of my pictures on Instagram. That’s why I came into your room. I thought maybe you had done it on purpose, but I guess it was just an accident, huh?” Regulus laughed awkwardly and scratched at his eyebrow idly.
James processed what Reg had just said, trying to get past his mortification at having done something so stupid, and went right to Reg coming into his room after knowing James was stalking him online. “So last night…” James started, trying to think of the night words. “Just what were you hoping for?”
“I don’t know,” Reg responded, staring at the floor. “Something like this morning except without the part of you running away like a frightened deer?”
James stepped closer, bridging the gap between them a bit. “Why?” he asked, reaching out and tugging Regulus closer by his sleep shirt. Reg stumbled a bit but went willingly. “You don’t even know me.”
Regulus blushed prettily and ducked his head down. “I feel like I do,” he murmured softly. “On his visits home Sirius would talk about you constantly. You were almost like – fuck – like a fairytale character to me. I kept pressuring Sirius for a visit because I wanted to meet you. God, you must think I’m a stupid little kid with a crush. Please, don’t say anything to Sirius about all this. He’ll never let me hear the end of it.”
“Then how will I tell him we’re dating?” James asked, smiling mischievously.
Regulus shook his head. “Please don’t take the piss right now,” he begged softly. “I don’t think my ego can handle it after this morning.”
James cupped Regulus’ chin and forced the younger man to meet his gaze. James smiled kindly and traced Reg’s full lips with his thumb. “I wasn’t taking the piss. Although I should probably warn you that I am a bit of a cock-up. I don’t think dating me will be the fairytale you imagined.”
Regulus bit James’ thumb playfully. “I don’t care,” he said, smiling at James. “Even the beast had some good qualities.”
“I notice you’ve cast yourself as beauty in the scenario.”
“You don’t think I’m pretty?” Regulus said, batting his eyelashes.
James chuckled. “I think you’re gorgeous,” he said honestly, “And also trouble.”
Regulus grinned. “You don’t mind a bit of trouble, do you, James?” he challenged, raising an eyebrow.
“Not at all.”
#jegulus#i write things#background wolfstar#university au#I've been writing a lot of those lately#long post#fluff#I actually wrote something where they don't kiss#it feels wrong
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Jonsa Week, Day 4: Modern AU
Only the Best Things Happen at 3AM [Ao3]
@jonsa-week sorry, it’s super duper late again!
Summary: When Jon wakes up to Ghost's barking at 3 in the morning, the last thing he expected to see was a beautiful redhead sobbing while cuddling his dog.
Jon likes to think he’s a fairly level-headed guy. There isn’t much that really fazes him. He’s had to grow up fast due to his mum dying when he was young, so life really has already thrown its worst shit his way. At twenty-five, Jon is confident he can handle everything else, so when he wakes up to his dog barking loudly at three in the morning, evidently not in the house, Jon is only a little concerned. Ghost is a big Husky with red eyes and most people tend to take one look at him and run the other direction.
Except it’s three in the morning and those barks don’t sound angry or territorial.
It’s not quite a cause for concern, but it does make Jon apprehensive when he unlocks the backdoor to the garden. He’s not sure what he was expecting, maybe a burglar or one of those annoying students from the nearby university that like to play pranks on the hard-working local residents. But he’s sure as shit wasn’t expecting a drop dead gorgeous girl in a plaid shirt tied in a bow just below her breasts and cut-off denim shorts that are far too short to be appropriate attire anywhere. Not to mention the even more absurd fact that she’s sobbing uncontrollably while cuddling Ghost like he’s some lap dog instead of the guard dog he’s supposed to be.
Not wanting to startle the girl, Jon clears his throat. Instantly, her eyes snap up to his, watery and startled like a doe before the slaughter. He feels guilty for it, like he’s encroaching on something he shouldn’t be, but goddamnit, it’s three in the morning and this is his house. “Are you okay, miss?” he asks because his mum did raise him to be polite. “Are you lost or something?”
She blinks, wipes the tears away with the back of one hand, while the other remains circled around Ghost, who just sits there wagging his tail, tongue lolling out like a bloody traitor. “I –” she hiccups. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” And then just like that, the girl starts sobbing all over again and Jon immediately rushes to her side despite the warning bells in his head saying that maybe this is all a ruse and she’s one of those rare female serial killers.
He places a hand tentatively on her shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m not… I won’t call the police. It’s fine. Do you need anything? Do you want me to ring someone for you?”
“Lady!” she wails loudly.
“Pardon?” Jon has to ask because he’s not entirely sure what she’s trying to say.
“Lady,” she repeats, the tears still flowing quickly down her pinkened cheeks. She wraps both arms around Ghost again and nuzzles her face into his fur. “Lady.”
“Uh… is your name Lady? Or do you want me to call someone named Lady?” He is so thoroughly confused right now, Jon can’t help wondering if maybe this isn’t just some really elaborate dream he’s having.
The girl’s head tilts upwards as she glares at him. “No! My name is Sansa.”
Sansa… A pretty name for a pretty girl. Too bad she seems completely insane, Jon thinks.
She exhales loudly, a shuddering sound, but at least the tears have stopped. He also realises then that there is a distinct stench of alcohol on her breath and she probably is one of those annoying students from the uni as well. But she’s here on her own and that can’t be good. Either, she really is bad news or she’s running from something or someone. Maybe Jon should call the police.
“Let me ring someone for you, yeah?” he tries again. “We’ll get you home, I promise.”
“No!” she shouts now, blue eyes panicked. She lets one arm fall away from Ghost to reach out for his hand. Her skin is cold, like she’s been out here in the night dressed in barely anything for hours. Jon makes a decision then, a stupid decision, but there just doesn’t seem to be a way around it at this point.
“Okay, how about this… Let me help you inside. I’ll get you something warm to wear, brew you a cup of tea and you can tell me what’s going on, yeah?” Jon says. As she mulls over his proposition, he scans her for any sign of something sinister, but the smooth expanse of skin reveal she is in perfect condition. More than perfect, Jon is ashamed to think, because really, he should not be checking out the poor girl. She’s clearly in a vulnerable emotional state.
Sansa finally nods and Jon quickly helps her up. Together, they walk into his house and he immediately goes to grab a hoodie and sweats from his wardrobe for her to wear. He also actively tries not to notice how his clothes dwarf her slender frame or the way she’s just pulled her red hair from its bun, its long waves flowing past her shoulders.
Get a fucking grip, Snow.
Once a mug of tea is placed into her hands, Sansa looks a little more put together than she did only moments before. She’s still cuddling his dog, who is lapping up the attention, and eyeing him with suspicion in her eyes.
“So uh… I don’t think I said this before, but I’m Jon,” he says, as a way to break the ice. “Jon Snow. I live here. Well, okay, you probably guessed that.” He swears under his breath. “Do you go to the university?”
She nods. “I’m in my final year.”
“Cool. That’s… cool. What are you studying?”
“Politics and International Relations.”
“Fuck, that sounds intense. Not what I pictured you doing, to be honest,” Jon tells her.
Sansa blushes and something oddly possessive rushes through him. “I know. Most people don’t. I did start with Fashion and Business, but… both my parents are in politics and I guess I just want to follow in their footsteps.”
“That’s nice. Do they approve?” he asks. “My mum was a waitress, so I don’t think she would’ve wanted me to do the same.” He laughs, a little self-deprecatingly.
“Was?”
“She died when I was seventeen,” Jon says, shrugging.
She looks uncomfortable and she turns her gaze back to Ghost. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so nosy…” She lets out a long breath. “My… um, my dad has cancer. It’s not terminal, but the doctors say the chances of survival isn’t very high.” Tears begin to form in her eyes again and she blurts out the rest of the story without his prompting. “And my dog died yesterday. She was hit by a car and I wasn’t even home to say goodbye!” Sansa then snorts. “As if that’s not bad enough, tonight, I went to this fancy dress party and saw my ex-boyfriend making out with my friend. And I know it’s stupid but I just need to get away so I ran out and I just kept on running till I spotted your dog and…” She hugs Ghost tightly. “He looks so much like Lady!”
With all of the puzzle pieces finally fitting together now, Jon’s heart lurches in his chest. He takes a risk and moves to the sofa she’s sitting on. He doesn’t touch her, doesn’t even sit beside her, but he turns his whole body to face her. “That’s shit, Sansa,” he tells her. “I don’t know what else to say, but that is fucking shit and I’ve known you for five minutes and I can already truthfully say you don’t deserve any of that. But fuck your ex-boyfriend and fuck that driver that hit your dog.”
Sansa sniffles, her lips twitching slightly. “What about my dad?”
“Fuck cancer,” he tells her emphatically.
“Yeah,” she laughs suddenly. “Fuck cancer.”
He lets silence fall between them for a moment. “So here’s the thing, you’re probably still drunk,” he begins. “And you’re in no shape to walk home so just sleep here. I’ll take the sofa. You can cuddle with Ghost in my bed all you want, okay? Tomorrow, I’ll drive you home and you’re going to get through this.”
She stares at him for a long moment before she says, “you should be an inspirational speaker.”
Jon laughs, a loud deep belly laugh that surprises him. “If you really knew me, you wouldn’t say that.”
Sansa pouts. “Why not?”
“I’ve been told I’m a broody bastard,” he tells her, smiling. “I’m not really the rallying type of guy.”
“You are to me,” she says instantly, but before he can really register the weird fluttering in his stomach, she yawns.
“C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”
After Jon gets Sansa settled, which he is silently thanking the gods that he just washed his sheets a couple days ago, he makes himself a little cocoon on the sofa to fight against the chill of his lounge. It’s bizarre, almost downright absurd, how he could care so deeply for the welfare of a complete stranger in the span of an hour, but he truly, truly wants Sansa to find only happiness in her life. And maybe if she wants to include him in that life for the foreseeable future, he wouldn’t object, but Jon is convinced she’s not going to remember their conversation in the morning anyways.
Sunlight streams through the half-drawn back curtains and Jon groans into his pillow. He is cursing every deity he can think of for his forgetfulness over the curtains when his floorboards creak and Jon bolts upright. For a second, he’s unable to grasp where exactly he is, and then in the next second, he’s staring somewhat slack-jawed at a sleep-tousled Sansa still in his hoodie and sweats. She’s in the doorway, Ghost by her side, and there’s a small, shy smile on her lips that makes that weird surge of possessiveness run through him again.
“Hi… um…”
“It’s Jon,” he reminds her.
Sansa chuckles softly. “I wasn’t that drunk.” At his speculative gaze, she rolls her eyes. “Shut up.”
Jon laughs and stretches out his limbs. Sleeping on the sofa is not so great on his back and he turns this way and that to roll out the kinks in his muscles. When he glances back up at Sansa to ask if she wants breakfast, he finds a peculiar sort of expression on her face that he can’t decipher, but then it’s gone as quickly as it came and he wonders if he imagined it altogether.
“Coffee? Cereal?” Jon asks, pushing aside that strange moment. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything else. Eating for one usually means a really shitty diet.”
“I really don’t want to impose,” she says. “You’ve already done so much for me and I… I should probably head home.”
Jon nods, disappointment pooling in his stomach. “Right, sure. I can drive you.”
“That would be great, thank you.”
He turns to reach for his keys on the coffee table when he abruptly blurts out, “you can visit anytime, you know?”
“What?” she asks, startled.
Jon stands up, the duvet falling from his lap to the floor. He rubs a hand over his neck. “I mean… for Ghost. He seems to really like you and if you need company, he’s here for you. I’m sure he’d appreciate the company.”
Sansa blushes again. “That would be nice.” She rubs the dog in question’s forehead, a fond smile on her lips. “It might make missing Lady hurt less.”
“I didn’t think I said this last night, but…” Jon swallows. “For the record, I’m really sorry for everything. You don’t deserve that.”
She inclines her head. “You said that last night too. What do you mean by that? I don’t deserve it. You don’t even know me.”
Jon shrugs. “I have a good feel for people and you’re one of the good ones.”
Sansa laughs before she steps towards him, that expression he couldn’t decipher before returning to her face. He sees it now for what it is though. It’s mischievous; it’s coy; it’s downright fucking seductive. “Would I still be considered one of the good ones if I took advantage of my host?”
“The opposite. You’d ruin my good opinion if you didn’t.”
Wordlessly, they crash into each other, a tangle of limbs, as they both hold tightly onto the other. Jon runs his tongue over her lips, pushing for entrance and being deliciously welcomed when Sansa matches him hunger for hunger. How they had gone from strangers to this in a matter of hours boggles his mind, but Jon is not going to question it out loud. He wants this, wants her, in a way that doesn’t quite make sense. It’s just Sansa. Even broken down and at her tether, she exudes a beauty that goes far beyond the physicality of it. He doesn’t know her and maybe she could still turn out be a really hot serial killer, but he does know himself and he’s never felt this kind of passion before in his life. It’s so wholly uncontained, so consuming that if he even tries to stop this, he’s sure to be burnt.
“Is it still considered a one night stand if it’s in the morning?” Sansa murmurs against him as they stumble into his bedroom, clothes flying off in every which direction.
Jon laughs into her neck as he continues his exploration of every inch of skin he can find. “It’s whatever you want it to be, Sansa.”
Nine months and six days later, it turns out what they both wanted it to be was a longstanding commitment to never letting that night (morning) end.
They try denying it for a long time, pretending it’s just casual and that it didn’t really mean anything but them trying to satisfy an itch. It might’ve worked too if they’d actually acted like normal friends-with-benefits, but Sansa basically moved in a month into their ‘thing’, citing that her department building was a ten-minute walk from his place in comparison to the thirty-minute walk from her flat. It’s just logical, she’d said.
It became even harder to deny when Jon was invited to spend Christmas with Sansa’s family three months later and her siblings all started to regularly text him about their lives. Or when her father was four months into remission and they all decided to go away together to celebrate, including Jon.
But maybe the moment when it becomes clear that what they’ve had has always been serious comes nine months and six days later on the day of her graduation when Jon scoops her up in his arms and tells her how much he loves her for the first time and she says it back with tears in her eyes and that shy breathtaking smile on her lips.
Yeah, he thinks as he kisses her, he’s in this for the long haul.
#jonsa#jon x sansa#actuallyjonsa#jonsaff#jonxsansaff#jonsaweek#jonsa week#my fics#jonsa fic#jon snow#sansa stark#game of thrones#super late#whoops
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