all work an no play makes jack a dull boy

the no bullshit guide to getting your shit together: for the lazy student

Let’s be honest: time management and organization? They’re really hard. Sure, at first you might feel like you’ve gotten the hang of them, that you’re in control of your life. But how often have you fallen off the wagon? Procrastinated on one thing and the next moment, you’re behind in all your classes? I know that sometimes laziness feels like a part of who you are, but honestly, fuck that. Do you really want to give up your success for the disinterest of a moment?

If your answer is no (it better be no, or you really need to get your priorities straight), let’s get to it. 


“This class doesn’t even matter.” “I don’t care about my grades.” “I can finish this the day before.” Sound familiar? You might feel great now, but when you’re staring down at your report card later, it’ll feel like you just got punched. 

This is a cliche, but the greatest obstacle to your success is yourself - especially the lies you tell yourself! Sit yourself down and be honest about what you need to improve on. Be as blunt as you can, but for god’s sake, don’t throw yourself a pity party! There’s no use agonizing over what you can’t change. Instead, set realistic, achievable goals, and make a game plan. Struggling with math? Go to extra help. Behind in all your classes? Stay in for a couple nights and actually work. 


Now you know what your goals are, but maybe you want some inspiration, so you log on to tumblr and are instantly bombarded by all these beautiful, well lit shots of the most gorgeous bullet journals, planners, and notes. Impressive, right? Well, I’m gonna let you in on a little secret: they’re all useless! A simple phone planner works just as well, if not better, than a fancy agenda, because you’ll always have it on you, it’s not a hassle to carry around, and you don’t feel obligated to make it look pretty. 

Riddle me this, where are you going to find all this extra motivation to keep prettying up your bullet journal? To write all your notes in perfect, colour coded printing? There aren’t many times in life where taking the easy was out will actually benefit you, so take advantage! Stop wasting your time; get a phone planner and write your notes in your natural goddamn handwriting. 


Yep, your entire room - not just your study space! This one can be put on the back burner for a bit if you’re on a really pressing deadline, but I wouldn’t recommend it. I’m notoriously messy, and if I don’t watch myself, I’d find myself in dirty-laundry-and-old-notes hell. A little bit of organized chaos is fine, I even encourage it! But try working when your desk is covered in mounds of paper and you have nowhere to put your laptop – it’s just not conducive to success. 

Keeping your entire room clean is a way to stave off stress, frustration, and even embarrassment, because nobody wants to show potential roommates how much of a mess they are. 


Yeah, I know what you’re thinking: “actually work? Who does this girl think she is?” I’d probably think the same thing, except I’ve learned the valuable lesson of sucking it the hell up, and you will too. When you get home from work, grab a snack and work. When you have a free period, figure out what’s due and work. Stop reasoning yourself out of work: you’re not going to finish this later, and that will be on the test. There’s really not much to say about this one, because it’s the step that requires the most raw effort, and you’re really only going to find that within yourself. Tell yourself what’s at stake, and realize that, by setting the standard for your mediocrity now, you’re potentially trapping yourself in a cycle that will last for years. 


Maybe you’ve been on top of your shit for a day, a week, or even a month, and that’s really great. But then… you fail. You miss a deadline or you bomb a test. So what do you do now? Do you allow yourself to fall back into your old habits? Fuck no! Everyone fails, even that studyblr with those perfect bullet journal photos and a perpetually clean study space. I’m going to tell you something that’ll sound really strange: you should value your failures, especially if you worked hard to avoid them. What?! Be HAPPY about failing when I actually TRIED? Yeah, you heard me right. If you don’t know how to handle failure, then when you inevitably experience it, your reaction will be much worse. 

Failing hurts, and boy, I know how embarrassing it can be. But learning how to deal with failure, and especially how to keep trying after it happens, is an invaluable lesson. 


Disclaimer: I’m not suggesting you treat yourself after the most basic of tasks, because please. Treat yourself when you know you goddamn well deserve it. Remember that “all work and no play makes jack a dull boy.” If all you do is study and do your homework, then, pardon my french, your life sucks. If you don’t have friends, play a video game! Eat an entire jumbo chocolate bar! Indulge in whatever the fuck you want, you deserve it. I’m someone that has trouble prioritizing future benefits over immediate gratification, so by allowing myself little pleasures, I save myself from crashing and burning. 

Hope these tips helped, but remember to take them with a grain of salt - you’re you and I’m me, and different things work for different people. Good luck!

we know the game

on Ao3

nothing like some good old fashioned nonsense

this is basically crack. right well, i should stop writing after 11pm


Marinette has a few rules when it comes to her partner.

  1. Don’t let him take patrols on his own. He’ll fall asleep on a random rooftop somewhere because he likes to stay out until the break of dawn, watching over the city as it sleeps.
  2. If he calls after midnight, always answer.
  3. Don’t trust him with gifts. He always goes unnecessarily over the top and spends far too much money for her (or anyone else) to be comfortable with it.
  4. Don’t put him in charge of food. For the same reason as the gifts, but also because he’ll eat half the food before she shows up.
  5. Don’t smile at him too much in class. Alya is getting suspicious.

But it turns out that Marinette has to add a new rule to the list:

  • Don’t let Alya and Nino plan anything for the four of them.


“Are you sure you can’t come?” Marinette asks, pacing back and forth as Tikki watches her burn circles in the floor from the desk..

I really can’t,” Alya apologizes over the phone. “We can’t find a sitter this last minute and there’s no way my mom is letting Ella and Etta stay home alone.

“Could you bring them?” Marinette tries. “Because I can just bring more food and—”

Marinette,” Alya interrupts gently. “With this last week of akumas, I don’t think my mom wants even us going to school. A park without adult supervision? No way.

Marinette chews on her bottom lip and resists the urge to ask ‘what about superhero supervision?’ Instead, she asks, “Are you sure?”

Positive.” Alya sighs. “I’m sorry, I really wish I could come. But you’ll be with Nino and Adrien, you’ll still have a fun time without me there.”

Keep reading


Hey guys! So I’ve been wanting to write this fic for a super long time, but it deals with pretty tricky subject matter so I’ve been a little nervous, but you guys responded so well to my last angsty fic I thought I’d give it a go! This one is superrrr long and I’m sorry about that, but once I got going I just couldn’t stop!

She stared down at the bright pink, sugary drink sitting in front of her. The intense smell of strawberry, sugar syrup invading her nose. Nudging the picture perfect milkshake out of her line of Vision, she couldn’t stop thinking about what her mother had said,

“You’re looking very puffy Elizabeth, I can’t believe all the weight you’ve put on. It’s all those sugary drinks you’ve been consuming, Polly would never let herself get this way.”

“You okay B?” The feminine voice of her gorgeous raven haired friend broke her out of her thoughts. She would give anything to look like Veronica. Her body was lean and her slender face held none of the baby fat Betty was sure held permanent residence on her own face.

“Yeah! I’m fine. Just thinking.”

Veronica and Kevin fell back into conversation about Audrey hepburn.

“You haven’t touched your milkshake, is it too cold?” The moody, beanie wearing boy beside her questioned, pulling the straw into his own mouth.

She smiled, admiring the way his muscular arms stretched across the booth, he could eat whatever he wanted and never gain a pound, she had just recently discovered how built his body was underneath all those layers on clothing. It was a well kept secret. Well if you weren’t Betty cooper who couldn’t manage to keep her hands off of him.

“No , no it’s fine.” She dipped her finger into the whipped cream shooting him a smile and popping it into her mouth.

He raised an eyebrow, smiling hesitantly.

The conversation continued for the next hour until Veronica’s mother came to pick her up, Kevin hitching a ride.
“Walk me home?” she whispered

“You got it Juliet.” He winked

She giggled as they hit the street, they walked in comfortable silence before Jughead broke the quiet

“You okay bets? You’ve been quiet all day.”

She smiled at his concern,

“I’m fine juggie, just a lot on my Mind.”

“Well my favorite blonde, I suggest you stop thinking so much, all work and no play makes jack a dull boy.” He smirked as they reached her house

“Thanks jug, I’ll keep that in mind.” She rolled her eyes, smiling.

“Your castle awaits” he said gesturing towards her front door.

“Thank you my prince.” She curtseyed, “I’ll see you tommorow.”

As soon as she reached for the doorknob he called her name “Betty?” She turned around raising a brow

“If you ever need to talk, I’m always here.” He said smiling softly

“Thanks juggie.” Before the door closed and he headed in the direction of his house

Something wasn’t right about Betty, she was hardly eating anything, he watched her skip over lunch, pushing food around her plate. And dinner at pops was almost nonexistent. She looked tired and he noticed the way some of her clothes hung off her shoulders. It made his stomach clench and his chest hurt. This was Betty he was talking about, if she was hurting she would tell him



Turning to face herself in the mirror, betty lifted her sweater over stomach, running a hand over the almost flat area. She punched the skin there and frowned. Her mom was right , she was getting big, sure her pants were loose on her but she couldn’t see any difference, her thighs still jiggled a little bit as she ran the track and her cheeks were just as chubby as ever.

A knock on the window scared her, causing her to rip her sweater back down over her body. Turning she spotted Jughead scaling the ladder he had placed by her bedroom window. She smiled and went to help him lift the window.


“What’s up?” He climbed through the window smiling confused at her.

“Just getting ready for school, what are you doing here so early?”

“Thought I could walk you to school, we can grab breakfast on the way.” He raised a brow, waiting for her answer.

“Oh juggie, I was gonna run the track a few times before first period, raincheck?”

He sat on her bed

“Bets you’ve rainchecked me all week, you’ve run that track so much I’m surprised you still have feet to run with.”

She smiled nervously
“Come on, don’t be silly, exercise is good for you.” She grabbed her bag, moving to climb out the window.

He watched her for a second, his eyes moving to the mirror he caught her staring at herself in just minutes before. What was happening to her?

She talked the whole way to school, leaving him no time to ask her anything.

“Okay juggie, I’ll see you after school, I hate tuesdays we don’t have any blocks together.” She pouted.

He smiled softly

“It’s not my favorite day of the week either, you sure you don’t wanna grab something to eat in the caf? I can bring you something?” He asked a little desperately.

She shook her head placing a hand to his cheek,
“I’m okay juggie, I’ll see you later okay.” He nodded silently, it felt like he was always watching her walk away these days.

The day went by so incredibly slow for Jughead, all he could think about was Betty and that fact that her collar bones were becoming more and more prominent. It didn’t make any sense to him, he loved food, he would never pass up food especially not willingly.

Kevin seemed to catch on that something was on his new friends mind,

“Penny for your thoughts” he said in jugheads ear, causing the dark haired boy to jump.

“Jesus, Keller you can be really creepy you know that?”

Kevin smiled “you flatter me, anyway what’s on your exceptionally intelligent mind?”

Jughead allowed himself to stroke his ego at the compliment, before instantly frowning again.

“It’s Betty, I don’t think she’s eating, I mean it’s so obvious she’s losing weight, she can’t afford to lose anymore weight she’ll waste away. And all she wants to do is run on that damn track, like I know she loves to work out but it’s getting crazy, she’s gonna run herself sick, and I tried talking to her but..”

Kevin cut him off with a shake of his head
“It’s just like last year.”

Jugheads head snapped up

“Last year, this already happened?”

Kevin sighed sitting down
“Last year, Betty tried out for the cheerleading squad and was turned away, Cheryl told her she was too fat and Betty pretty much lost it. She wouldn’t eat, she wouldn’t talk to anyone and she pretty much locked herself away in her room. It took the health teacher to finally get her help. It was scary, I thought I was gonna lose my best friend.” Kevin choked up a bit, shaking his head to rid himself of his tears.

Jugheads jaw clenched, no. He wasn’t gonna let that happen, Betty was beautiful and whoever was telling her differently was gonna have to speak to him.
“Thanks Kev, I gotta find Betty. I’ll see you later.”
He threw his books into his bag, Betty had said she’d meet him by the lockers but she wasn’t there. He waited about ten minutes before he shook his head. He knew where she was.

Taking off he practically ran to the track field. Sure enough there was Betty, sneakers pounding the pavement her chest heaving, her slim legs pumping and she came to a halt, bending over and placing her head in her hands.

Alright, that was it.

“Betty!” He called.

She whipped around , her eyes going wide when she caught his “what time is it?! Am I late?! I set my alarm, it was supposed to go off I was gonna meet you by the lockers!” She breathed heavy

“But you didn’t, you’re here. Running. Again.” He said trying to remain cool.

She raised a brow, confused by his tone

“If you’re Angry I’m late, I’m sorry I lost track of time I..”

He cut her off

“You aren’t eating.” He said bluntly.

Her eyes widened

“You’re not eating, you’re skipping meals, you won’t talk to me, all you do is work out and You look so tired Betty.” He said softly.

Her eyes welled up and she looked away avoiding his eyes

“I’m fine juggie. I’ve just been busy.”

His hand went to her chin pulling her face up and towards his

“And now you’re lying to me.”

Almost in an instant, she broke down, her knees giving out as his arms went to hold her upright, wrapping around her waist.

“Jughead ..” she choked

“It’s okay bets, it’s okay”

He let her cry for a few minutes before gently pulling away.

“Talk to me ” he said with pleading eyes.

She took a deep shaky breathe,
“I’m gross, I’m huge, I.. I run and run and I’ll never look like Veronica, I skip meals and I’m still bigger than Polly. Everyone can see it. I don’t know what else to do.” She sounded so broken it made his heart physically hurt.

“No. you’re wrong, you’re beautiful. There is nothing wrong with your body. You don’t have to look like Veronica or Polly or even Cheryl, you’re gorgeous the way you are.”

She looked into his eyes, lip quivering

“But my mom…”
He cut her off

“Is unhappy with herself so she takes that out on you, she wishes she looked half as good as you do. All the girls in this school wish they looked like you Betty. You’re making yourself sick, I can see how tired you are and your clothes are hanging off of you. You need to eat, you need to sleep. Let me buy you dinner okay? Then I’ll take you home and you can sleep.”

Her eyes softened, only a few remaining tears leaking out

“…you really think I’m beautiful? I’m not too big?”

He clutched her hand in his bringing her even tighter against his chest .

“The most beautiful girl in this damn school , and you’re not even close to being big, you’re too small, but even if you were I wouldn’t change a single thing, you’re my favorite person Betty and I don’t appreciate you trying to take her away from me.” He smiled down at her.

She giggled lightly, reaching up to press her hand to his cheek.
“Thankyou juggie.”

He smiled clearing his throat

“Also” he choked

She looked at him confused and waiting


He just stared at her. Was now the right time? he didn’t want to take advantage of her, but damn did he want to kiss her.

“What” she spoke again, this time smiling her eyes darting down to his lips

Screw it.

His mouth was on hers before she even had time to process what was going on. He was stroking her face gently and he couldn’t help but moan. Damn she was a good kisser. That familiar taste of peaches and cream he always smelt on her didn’t disappoint, she was gorgeous and soft and he never wanted to let go.

Pulling away he sighed out of relief, how long had he been waiting to do that? Too long.

She was smiling at him eyes closed when suddenly the sound of a gurgling stomach caused her to look up, blushing.

“Well I think that means it’s time to head out” he held open his palm ready to thread their fingers together. She obliged happily, snuggling into his side.

It was gonna take time but he was gonna help Betty Cooper slay all of her dragons.

One by one.

european stereotypes as i’ve encountered them

austria: germans who love schnitzels, strudels and skiing. the sound of music fanatics.
switzerland: heidi and guns. money hoarders. 
italy: pizza and coffee mafia. do not mention ketchup, pineapple or starbucks.
belgium: fake country. beer and waffles. the place where all “faceless evil bureaucrats” come from. 
russia: ice ice baby, communists, insane drivers and furry hats.
netherlands: gays, bicycles and weed.
poland: more catholic than the pope. appointed jesus as their king.
belarus: modern soviet union.
estonia: godless, nordic wannabes.  
portugal: spanish people who speak brazilian and love football.
finland: takes ‘personal space’ to a whole new level. saunas, depression and heavy metal.
romania: drunk, poor vampires always ready to protest.
france: pastry, wine and sex. they invented french fries just ask the belgians. 
ukraine: rip
germany: all work and no play make jack a dull boy, where humor goes to die, socks and sandals. 
greece: invented democracy but did not put a trademark on it so now they broke.
spain: fiestas and siestas ftw. old british people retire here, god save the spanish
hungary: goulash, paprika and chill
ireland: drunk leprechauns
united kingdom: posh americans, football hooligans and tea
turkey: kebab and fascism


What’s in your Sims’ bag?

I was tagged by @lyrea ♥ some time ago. And now have time for this.

Rules: Choose a Sim of yours, post a picture of their bag content and tag 10 of your friends/followers/favorite Simblrs! Please tag #inmysimsbag. :)
It can be done with any Sims game.

I tag @mysimblruniverse @aoihana2510 @sim-bubble @yumiaplace @ooobsooo @foulballoonkid @femmesim @something-wicked-sims


A little moment I love in The Prince of Egypt:

This fleeting little scene in Through Heaven’s Eyes is one of my favourite little Moses moments in the film. It shows that deep down, Moses really was one of the most giving and loving people in the film, willing to open his heart to anyone regardless of age. As we see later in “When You Believe” as well, he really seems to love kids, and they too are drawn to him because of his good nature and open heart.

Also the fact that he’s seen here juggling fruit goes to show that while he has matured from the spoiled brat irresponsible, impulsive person he had been, he has not lost his playful nature. This teaches viewers that while one day they will mature into responsible adults, that does not mean they cannot keep their compassion, love, and playfulness. After all, as the old adage goes, “all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.” Adults need play just as much as children do (just for different reasons, obviously), and I love that Prince of Egypt has this lesson as well.

Moses has grown up, but we can still recognise him as the Moses we met at the beginning of the film. He has lost his irresponsible and reckless habits of teenhood, but retained his innate love, compassion, and ability to just relax and be playful, especially with other children.

Stanley Kubrick was known for many things, but chillaxing sure wasn’t one of them. He would routinely force dozens of takes for insignificant scenes until the actors got them just right and/or the voices in his head subsided. As we’ve covered before, he was a particular butthole on the set of The Shining, traumatizing poor Shelley Duvall and making his secretary spend months typing up individual, unique pages of Jack’s manuscript. 

But Kubrick’s weaponized OCD didn’t stop there. Kubrick, it seems, thought the impact of the manuscript scene would be diminished if foreign viewers had to read a subtitle explaining what it says in all those pages (as opposed to, you know, reading the pages). On top of that, there’s the repetitive phrase itself: “All work and no play make Jack a dull boy.” While the words could certainly be translated into other languages, the saying itself only exists in English, so it would lose considerable context and meaning. But hey, who gives a shit about this one line of idiom in a two-and-a-half-hour film, right? Kubrick, of course.

6 Famous Movie Scenes You Never Knew Were Different Overseas

Premonition (m)

Originally posted by bangtanboys-official

Rated m for fingering, dirty talk, ddlg kink, public sex

Summary: What if you had the power to dictate your future? What if the things you wrote down on paper became reality?

Word Count: 6,980 words

The words on the piece of paper blur together before your eyes, and no matter how hard you try to focus them again, it doesn’t work. Heaving a sigh, you toss your assignment rubric aside and slam the lid of your laptop closed.

The noise attracts the attention of your roommate, Do Yeon, who is sprawled out on her bed working on her own research assignment, and she shoots you a concerned look.

“You alright ____? I haven’t seen you this stressed about an assignment since… well never. What mod is it for?”

“It’s for Creative Writing with Prof Park… ugh I can’t seem to get a single word out without just deleting it all. I’m screwed this time, it’s due in a week!” You thread your hands through your hair in desperation.

Do Yeon let out a mock horrified gasp, “And you always need to have all your assignments written and proof read at least 2 weeks before! You’re dead this time ______.”

You give her an eye roll in response, not bothering to come up with an actual retort.

“You need to relax Y/N ah, you still have a week to go! You should come out tonight with me and the guys from the basketball team, it’ll be really fun I promise!”

You narrow your eyes at her, unfolding your legs from your seat at your desk and joining her on the bed.

“Ya, since when did you get to know guys from the basketball team? Is there something I need to know? Kang Do Yeon, you’d better spill right this instant!” You reach towards her waist with threatening fingers, knowing exactly where her weak spots are.

She squeals in response, wielding her laptop as a shield as she scrambles back on the bed. “It’s nothing, I just met them when I decided to take up a sports elective! There’s nothing to update I promise, unless you count a teeny tiny kiss and hand holding as the start of something…”

It’s your turn to let out a gasp. “Details, now! What’s his name? Major? Does he live in the dorms too?”

“You’ll know everything if you come out with us tonight… maybe we could even find you someone,” Do Yeon says with a saucy wink.

You groan audibly and sit back on your heels. “Yeon-ah you know I don’t like to go out when I have unfinished assignments… where are we even going?”

“It’s a secret, but I promise I’ll tell you everything. You’ll even get to see him in the flesh! C’mon ______, all work and no play makes Jackie a dull boy!”

“It’s Jack,” you grumble under your breath, almost ready to cave in to her pleading. Glancing at the clock on your desk, it reads 8pm. “Alright, if I can get at least 2 pages written before 10, then I’ll come along.”

The following exclamation of triumph is nearly deafening, and you push yourself off her bed before Do Yeon can envelope you in one of her bone crushing hugs.

Situating yourself at your desk again, you plug your earphones in to drown out the sounds of your roommate chattering about plans to someone, probably the mysterious guy, on the phone and try to focus on the five thousand word assignment that lay ahead.

The clatter that sounds in the adjoining bathroom is enough to alert you that it was already almost 10. Blinking wearily and rubbing your eyes, you indulge in a luxurious stretch before saving your work and skimming it briefly. Not bad, almost 2k words in and your plot was developing nicely.

You pull your headphones out and decide to get dressed, heading to your shared closet and giving its contents a critical once over. Do Yeon emerges from the bathroom, already dressed in a crop top and mini skirt combo, putting the final touches on her makeup. Seeing your hesitation, she nudges you aside and selects a hanger from her side of the closet, pulling it out to reveal a glittery black bodycon dress.

Putting two and two together, you take the hanger from her. “So, we’re going to a club tonight?” You surmise, immediately stripping and pulling the dress over your head. It reaches slightly above your mid thigh, a little shorter than you were used to. You release your hair from its bun, causing it to cascade in loose curls over your shoulder as you reach for your foundation compact.

“Yeah, but it’s not just any club, and the company we’re going with is to die for I promise. Did you get your work done?”

“I guess… Prof Park specified a realistic romance this time, and I just don’t want it to be cliché or too cringe worthy, y’know? So far all my protagonist has done is make out with a guy in a club,” you mused grimly. Swiping a little gloss over your lips, you step away from the mirror and gather your essentials for the night into a small purse and slide into your favourite pair of strappy heels.

“Well hopefully that’s what you’ll be doing tonight too…” Her voice trails off when you shoot her a look. “Just forget about it for tonight… I’ll help you proof read it when you’re done, if that makes you feel any better.”

You give her a thankful smile, watching as she locks the dorm room. “Where are we meeting this company that’s ‘to die for’?”

“We’re meeting them there directly. Come on, let’s go.”

“Where are they? Did they ditch us?” You struggle to be heard over the loud bass sounding throughout the dance floor and the mesh of sweaty bodies around you. Do Yeon only shakes her head in response, mumbling something that gets lost in the cheers and hoots when the beat drops yet again. You see her turn around suddenly, and glance up behind her only to see a mint haired boy greeting her with a smirk upon his lips.

Ah, so that must be her mystery guy. Not bad, he had an air of arrogance about him that only seemed to add to his attractiveness, and his milky white skin stood out even in the darkness of the club. You follow his piercing gaze to somewhere behind you, and it registers that the rest of his friends must have arrived as well. Do Yeon’s cheery smile and wave confirms this, and you spin around. Surely enough, there are three others standing behind you, but your eyes are drawn to the tallest of them.

His silver hair is swept off his forehead and styled in place with gel, but his dimples had to be his most defining feature. You faintly recognise him from one of your classes, but he usually dons a pair of wire glasses and wears his hair down then, sporting caps or beanies that allows him to hide his bright hair and blend in with the rest. His gaze pins you in place, and the sexual attraction is undeniable. Suddenly aware of your staring, you immediately shift your gaze to his companions, thankful for the dim lighting of the club.

You catch a glimpse of Do Yeon’s teasing smile from the corner of your eye, and shoot up a desperate prayer that she wouldn’t do anything embarrassing, at least not in front of this handsome not-so stranger. A sudden nudge at your lower back catches you off guard, causing you to stumble straight into his arms. The firmness of his chest against your cheek makes you gasp in mortification.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, did I step on you?” You sputter, all semblance of coherence and calm vanishing at the feeling of his large hands settling on your waist.

A low chuckle emits from his chest, one that you feel more than hear, and it sends shivers down your spine. He brings his plump lips closer to your ear, and you tell yourself that it’s because of the sheer volume of the music in the club that’s playing, not because of anything else.

“Not at all. We’ve met before, haven’t we? In Prof Lee’s psychology class. You’re ____ right?”

It’s an uphill battle with your racing heart as you struggle to get your next words out without your voice trembling. But it’s a relief to finally place the handsome, tall boy.

“Yeah! You looked so familiar, you’re Namjoon right? The one who questioned me continuously for five minutes about my presentation on the spotlight effect.”

He chuckles again, and you suddenly feel like you would do anything if only to hear the rich, melodious sound from him again. You remember him as the studious one in class, always asking questions and raising doubts with whoever was presenting content. It would have been weird to be discussing a presentation whilst in a club with anyone else, but with Namjoon, it feels perfectly normal.  

The crowd of people around you are moving along to the beat, but Namjoon and you are relatively calm in the sea of bodies. He pulls you in closer to his chest so that you can stay out of the way of a stray elbow, and you relish the feel of his strong arms around you. The warmth of his lithe body is intoxicating, and before long you find yourself winding your arms around his slim waist as well, leaning your head onto his chest and feeling more secure than you have in a long while.

His proximity serves a dual purpose when he tilts his head down, “I’m glad you came out today, ___. I’ve been wanting to ask you out for ages.

His blunt words shock you, and you glance up at him uncertainly. But his brown eyes are unwavering, and his unbridled honestly brings a flattered smile to your face. You’re unsure of what to reply to such an outright statement. Instead, you reach up to run your fingers through his silvery hair, something you’ve been wanting to do ever since you saw him. Your next move shocks even you, and you’re not sure if it’s Namjoon’s spicy cologne that draws you in or the three shots of liquid courage that Do Yeon forced down your throat earlier on at the bar, but as you reach up to press your lips against his, the bugging question lingering at the back of your mind is finally answered.

His lips are as soft as they look.

The loud blare of your alarm the next morning jolts you out of your sleep, and you awaken with a groan. Fumbling in the sheets around you to locate your phone, an unusual grin makes its way onto your lips when you see the message waiting there, even though it’s only 8am.

Namjoon: Hey I’m really sorry last night got cut short because of Taehyung… but I’d love to see you again. Have dinner with me today?

You allow yourself to stare at his message with a grin on your face for a while longer, before realising that Do Yeon is still asleep and about to miss her morning lecture.

“Ya Kang Do Yeon, it’s 8am, you’re going to be late for Econs!” You flip the covers off the lump in her bed. She whines in response, and you have to physically drag her out of bed and push her into the bathroom before she’s awake.

You’re just typing out a response to his message before Do Yeon’s hung over voice sounds from the attached bathroom.

“So… how’s you and Namjoon? I hope you guys were safe last night.” Her words elicit a blush onto your cheeks, and you quickly exit the app on your phone before you mess up and send something unintelligible.

“We didn’t do anything for your information… he had to go take care of his friend who was drunk off his ass and making a scene. And you didn’t spill about yours like you promised!” Your effort to change the topic succeeds, and there are gargling sounds before Do Yeon replies.

“His name is Yoongi, and he’s majoring in architecture. He’s pretty chill, I kinda like him. Pity last night had to end so soon huh?” She steps out of the bathroom in a manner too calm for someone who’s late for class. Sensing that she’s about to question you about Namjoon once more, you stand and grab her bag from her desk and shove it into her hands, pushing her out the door.

“You don’t have time to waste, you’re late for class! We’ll talk later, bye!” You slam the door in her face, heaving a sigh of relief at her retreating steps.

Pulling up the message on your phone once more, you type out a proper response before setting your phone aside and pulling your laptop towards you to work on your assignment. The moment the word document comes up on your screen, you frown as you glance over your brief attempt at writing, finding it a little too similar to what actually happened.

You brush it aside. People make out in clubs all the time, and this happened to be a coincidence. There was no way you’d predicted meeting Namjoon and making out with him at the club last night. He’d simply lingered in your sub-conscious since you knew him from another class, and it all just ended up on paper. Right?

But every detail, even the silver hair and his black dress shirt paired with dark washed denim jeans ripped at the knee down to the scruffed brown Timberlands were exactly on point. A chill comes over you, and you sit back in disbelief. The faint buzz of alcohol last night may have prevented you from realising anything at the club, but at the very moment, even with the slight pounding headache of a hangover, everything is crystal clear.

No way. Such things only happen in the realm of fiction. Your phone buzzes with an incoming message, and you glance toward it, a flutter of butterflies erupting in your stomach when your eyes scan over Namjoon’s affirmative reply.

It clicks, and there’s only one way to prove your crazy theory wrong. You take a deep breath, and begin typing at your laptop furiously.

The strain of sitting through 2 lectures after a late night out has taken its toll on you, and you tiredly massage your shoulders while balancing your laptop in one arm. You rotate your shoulders and sigh in relief, your thoughts flashing back to your assignment that you’d slaved over that morning. Finishing the dinner date that was about to happen left you about a thousand words from the limit, but you can’t decide if your newly discovered ‘power’ is an advantage or not. What’s the fun in being able to predict everything, leaving nothing to chance? Variety is the spice of life, the more rational part of your mind argues. It’s as if you are dictating someone else’s thoughts and actions, and it feels wrong. A rush of nerves floods your chest as you glance at your watch, standing outside the café you and Namjoon had agreed to meet at earlier.

He was late, just as you had written him to be.

Telling yourself firmly that it was another coincidence, you push open the glass doors of the café, deciding to get a table first. Situating yourself in a cozy corner, you close your eyes briefly and try to fight the tendrils of fatigue tempting you to call off the date and snuggle in your bed back at your dorm.

Before long, there are footsteps coming toward your table in the relatively quiet café, and the drag of a chair against the floor alerts you to his presence. You keep your eyes closed for a moment longer. Maroon shirt, black snapback and black ripped jeans. You pray that you’re both right and wrong.

“Do I put you to sleep already? Am I that boring?” His timbre voice sounds from directly in front of you, and you can’t avoid the moment any longer. Opening your eyes, they immediately land on his, taking in the silver blob of hair poking out from his black snapback positioned backwards on his head. His smile is broad, and it makes the corner of his eyes crinkle in the most adorable way, but you can’t focus on that right now. Especially when you see his maroon shirt with sleeves that cut off at just the right length, exposing his toned biceps.

You’re shell shocked and tongue tied, and it doesn’t help when Namjoon engulfs one of your hands in his in concern.

“____, are you okay?”

His words bring you back to the situation at hand, and you blink rapidly to focus again.

“Yyeah, just tired from a long day. How was yours?” You manage a smile as he runs his thumb across your palm soothingly.

He launches into a description of his classes for the day, and you’re happy to settle in and listen to him speak so passionately about his major. A waiter brings the menu to your table, and you open it, scanning down the dinner items briefly. Deciding to test things out once more, you glance back up at him.

“How do you feel about the bacon and mushroom truffle cream pasta?”

His eyes widen comically in disbelief, “I’ve been craving that ever since I woke up this morning. It’s like you read my mind or something.

The uncomfortable semi truth in his words makes your heart skip a beat, and you laugh it off. “Really? Nah, it’s only because I was craving the exact same thing,” you lie, passing the menu back to the waiter after placing your order.

“You look beautiful today by the way.” His sudden compliment surprises you; you hadn’t written that into his speech. Maybe there were some things you couldn’t predict, and a sense of relief threatens to overwhelm you.

“Namjoon, can I ask you something? You’re majoring in psychology right?” You continue on at his answering nod. “Is there a theory or something where um, a person is able to predict future events of their lives? Like they can tell the immediate future, kinda like premonition?”

Your cheeks heat up once your words are out. His nose wrinkles a little in the most attractive way as he seriously considers your question, and you appreciate that he doesn’t immediately burst out in laughter at your question.

“Hmmm there is something called correlation and prediction, but that’s more to do with data collection. I don’t think you meant that right? There’s also something called the schemata theory, which has to deal with the way an individual’s preconceived notions and beliefs affect the way they interpret new situations and knowledge. But that’s not really it either…” His voice trails off apologetically as he meets your eyes again. “Why do you ask, though?”

You smile at his genuine attempt to answer you, and pat his hand gently on the tabletop.

“Hmmm nothing, it’s just a thought I had while brainstorming for my creative writing minor I’m taking.” It’s not exactly the truth, but you’re not sure how he would react to the idea of you dictating his every action, so you decide that this has to be the most you can divulge.

“Damn, your mind never stops working, does it? You’re out on a date with me and all you can think about is school.”

You’re about to accuse him of doing the exact same thing, but his smirk tells you that he’s only teasing. You roll your eyes, “Excuse me, who said this was a date? Are we officially dating without my consent now?”

“We have been ever since you eye fucked me at the club last night. It would have ended differently had Taehyung not messed things up.” He licks his lips, and his gaze is almost predatory as it drops from your eyes to your own lips. The sight of his tongue sends naughty thoughts coursing through your mind, and you wonder just how good he is with it.

His boldness is unpredicted, and so are his chuckles as he reaches up to remove his snapback, running his fingers through his silver platinum hair the exact same way that you did last night. You’re unable to look away from his long, slim fingers, and suddenly you wonder how they would feel like inside you. That thought causes heat to flare in your lower belly, and you clench your thighs together, thankful that he can’t see it from his seat.

You’re caught between trying to meet his smoldering gaze and wondering where the limits of your predictive ability lie, since there were several things that didn’t go as planned. You’d intentionally written the night to end in a rather PG rated way, since you couldn’t exactly turn in erotica for 40% of your grade. Prof Park might be open minded, like most of the arts faculty, but it was still a risk you were unwilling to take. The thought disappoints you a little, but your thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of your food. Despite yourself, you reach for your phone and send a text to Do Yeon just in case.

Our room might be otherwise occupied tonight. Come back at your own risk.

The night air is serene and there is a comfortable silence between you and Namjoon as the both of you stroll leisurely back towards the dorms. You’re again reminded of just how tall he is when you barely reach up to his shoulder, and you’re just waiting from him to grab your hand when you feel his warmth as he interlaces his fingers with yours.

You squeeze his fingers a little in response, and the question he asks next is one that you remember writing into his dialogue, so you already have a response at the tip of your tongue.

“I can’t believe you almost didn’t recognise me at the club yesterday. Even after almost half a semester together, am I really that forgettable?” He feigns a hurt tone, and you reach up to poke him in one of his dimples.

“You’re always wearing a snapback or a beanie so your hair is hidden… and I usually sit at the front row too.”

“Noted. Ditch the headgear. And I’ll start sitting at the front row from the next lecture onwards, so save me a seat.” A wry grin makes its way onto your face at his inner dork.

He walks you all the way back to just outside your door, and your heart is in your throat as you try to stall for time, fishing around for your keys in your bag for as long as possible.

“Do you have a black hole in there or something?” His playful question lets you know that you’re out of time, and you sigh mentally before pulling them out and unlocking your door. You’re just about to step inside when he stops you with a hand on your wrist, and your heart skips a beat, though you try to conceal it as best as you can as you slowly turn around.

But he doesn’t ask for an invite in, neither does he push you against the door in a heated kiss like you hope. Instead he does exactly as you’d written him, placing a chaste kiss against your forehead and muttering a soft goodnight. The feeling of his lean body reminds you of the previous night in the club, and all you want to do is grab him by the collar and pull him inside and straddle him on the bed. It’s all you can do to keep the disappointment from showing on your face as you wish him in return, and gently close the door.

You immediately head towards the drawer by your bedside, withdrawing your little orange vibrator and it’s a long, heated night filled with images of his wet tongue and and glimpses of silver hair between your legs, but you’re nowhere close to satisfied by the end of it.

The next few days pass in a blur, and your progress on your assignment is at a standstill. It’s more than just a simple writer’s block, and you’re at a loss of how to end your protagonist’s romance without effectively ending yours as well. The thought of having to relive whatever scenario you write next dampens your mood somewhat, and you begin to curse whatever deity who had bestowed this ‘power’ upon you. Suddenly, being able to dictate your future doesn’t seem all that appealing anymore, and the weight of your unwritten words weigh heavily upon your shoulders.

Do Yeon offers to proof read whatever you have up to this point and give tips on how to continue, but you reject her offer vehemently. It feels much too private to let anyone but yourself be privy to, and you almost consider scrapping the whole assignment and starting from scratch again. But the deadline looms in less than a day, and you have no idea what rewriting your assignment would mean for your relationship with Namjoon.

So you have no choice but to soldier on. You pick up your rubric again, and slowly tick off every element that Prof Park mentioned he’d be looking out for. All but one item remains to be checked off: Creativity and originality. There is nothing that original so far, but a thousand words is enough to change that, with a drastic twist. You decide that the only way to achieve that is for your main characters to break up, contrary to the romance theme.

Not everything happened accordingly the last time at dinner, and it’s all you can hope for as you dredge up your muse and craft an argument to split the couple up, ticking off the last box on your list as you go.

Your calves are burning as you hurry in the direction of your psychology lecture after turning in your paper. Your vision is bleary from staying up half the night to finish your assignment, and as a result you almost miss the silver head in the front row.

You plop down beside Namjoon and he turns to look at you.

“What happened to saving me a seat? Whoa wait, let me guess, late night?” He asks as he takes in the dark circles around your eyes and your messy hair thrown in a bun.

“Yeah, pretty much. Was rushing an assignment for another class.” It’s the first time you’ve seen him ever since the previous night, and a sudden blush blooms across your cheeks as you recall your pathetic attempts at satiating your need. Thankfully, before he can ask any questions, the professor begins the lecture, and a hush of silence falls upon the entire lecture theatre.

The professor leaves you all with a partner project regarding behavioural studies, and Namjoon turns to you, using an index finger to push his glasses back in place. “What do you think of working on cognitive dissonance for our project?”

You’re distracted by his long, slender fingers again, but the flurry of students packing and leaving around the two of you buys you some time to answer him. “Yeah, sure. Let’s meet in the library later to get started.”

The walk to your next class just so happens to share the same route as Namjoon’s, and along the way he’s chatting your ear off on possible references and angles to take on your research project. But you only hear half of what he’s saying as you try to agree with everything, not wanting to tempt fate or whatever mysterious forces at work by disagreeing and signalling the start of an argument.

“Did you think of me after I left that night?” His sudden question has no link whatsoever to his previous topics, and you stop in your tracks, causing a few other students to nearly crash into you.

“Wait what? I thought we were discussing our project.” Your deer in the headlights look is much too telling, and your curse your inability to put on a proper poker face.

“I thought about you for the rest of the night, babygirl.” His blatant statement, along with his neutral expression, as if he were discussing the weather, causes a rush of arousal to slam into you, and you’re speechless as a result. Trust Namjoon to go from nerdy, studious dork to unabashed sex god in a span of less than a few minutes.

Your floundering doesn’t affect him in the least, and he only smirks at your lack of a response.

“Don’t forget, babygirl. 3pm in the library.”

You spend the rest of the day highly aware of the dampness in your panties. Your sexual escapades weren’t much to boast of other than a few bouts of vanilla sex with several exes, but Namjoon’s newly coined nickname for you ignites a heat in your lower belly, and you curse at the thought of having to endure your meeting with him in the library before you can head back and have another session with your vibrator.

3pm comes all too soon by the time you finish your last class and head for the library, both dread and excitement warring inside of you. The more you hang out with Namjoon, the higher the chance of things turning out the way you wrote them to be, so logically, you should end things with him as soon as possible and there might be a slim chance of you remaining friends.

But you were never a logical person at heart.

The library is almost empty, with mid terms just over and you claim a study pod the very back near the psychology section with your belongings. You decide to get a headstart and pick out some of the references he’d mentioned earlier, sending Namjoon a brief text to let him know you’re already here.

By the time he arrives, your cosy study pod is already piled high with books, and you’re so immersed in your research that you don’t realise he’s here until he slides into the seat next to you. The proximity of his jean clad thigh next to your own bare one throws you off focus, and you have to read the same sentence three times before finally grasping its meaning.

Wanting to get your meeting with him over and done with as fast as possible, you shift away a little to regain your focus and keep your eyes fixed on the text in front of you. “The references you stated earlier don’t really fit the angle we’re going for, I think we should- why is it so dark in here?”

“Oh. I drew the privacy screen when I came in. There were a couple of consultations going on outside and I didn’t want us to be interrupted.” Namjoon pulls off his hoodie as he speaks, leaving him in just a thin white shirt that makes you swallow hard. His double entendre, along with being alone with him in such a small, enclosed space reignites your arousal, but he seems totally unaffected. “What were you saying earlier?”

“Um, it’s just that uh, I think we should change our topic, since Prof already lectured quite a bit on it today. It wouldn’t be very impressive if we just copy all his references.” Your voice trembles at the start of your sentence, but you manage to regain your composure by flipping to the notes you’d copiously taken earlier that morning.

Namjoon frowns in disagreement, “But if we can put a new spin to whatever Prof mentioned and convince him that we’re right, it’ll be more than enough. Isn’t that what you did for your last presentation?”

“Yes but that was a brief presentation, this is an essay assignment. I’m not so sure how effectively we can go against years of research done by renowned scientists and still sound reasonable.” Your voice is raised now, eliciting a few hushes from outside and that’s when you realise the pod isn’t soundproof. Your heart sinks as you’re suddenly aware of the escalating argument, seeing as neither of you are the type to give in when it comes to academics. You decide to take the passive aggressive approach and pacify him.

Lowering your voice, you stand slightly and grab your laptop that’s sitting right in front of him, having prepared a few other theses to persuade him to change your essay topic. “Maybe we could work on these instead, I’ve already-“

“You’re so wet that I can smell you from here.”

And there he goes again with his out of the blue sexual comments that affect you way more than they should. Your frustration with him has reached a peak and you consider throwing one of these heavy tomes of research books at his smug little head, but considering you’re in a library, it doesn’t seem like it’ll go well.

“Shall we see if you’re as wet as I think you are?” His hand crawls up your inner thigh, causing the hem of your skirt to rise higher and higher. You open your mouth to protest, but he silences you with a hand cupped over your core. “What a naughty girl you are, so wet for me, in the library too…”

“I’m going to ask you a few questions, and you’re going to be a good girl for me and answer them truthfully. Or else I’ll put you over my lap and spank you so hard the entire library will hear.” His voice is calm and collected, as if he’s still discussing your project, but there’s an edge to it that makes you nod in reply.  

“Did you touch yourself after I left that night?”

“Yes.” Your voice is small and meek, but you admit to it nonetheless. Namjoon smiles in satisfaction, and dips his hand beneath the waistband of your underwear, fingers seeking out your clit. He rewards you with three swift, quick strokes, and you whine in protest as his fingers still again.

“Did you want me to come inside and fuck you till you forgot your own name?”

“Yes,” it comes out in a gasp, and his fingers dip down toward your entrance enticingly, gathering the evidence of your arousal and glossing it over your sensitive bud with his coated fingers.

“What do you want me to do to you babygirl? Use your words.” The nickname has you squirming in your seat, trying to angle his fingers to where you need them the most.

“I want to feel you inside me. I need you to make me cum,” your eyes lock onto his own lust filled ones, pupils blown wide, and you realise that you’re not the only one who has been spending the entire day in low key arousal after all.

His long fingers surge into you, and you’re so wet that he slides right in. The resulting noise that echoes in the study pod is positively filthy, but the delicious stretch distracts you and you thrust your hips up towards his hand. His tongue traces the shell of your ear, and you turn towards him, desperate for more friction, for more of his touch, for him in his entirety.

His lips meet yours in a heated kiss, and you moan into his mouth when he grinds his palm onto your clit, and you tighten around him.

“Fuck babygirl, you’re so tight.”

The thrusting of his digits accompanied by the swirling of his thumb around your clit makes the heated coil in your belly tighten even more, and the white hot pleasure has you gasping for air, writhing under his touch. With each stroke of his talented fingers, Namjoon brings you closer and closer to the edge, and towards an orgasm better than any that you’ve ever had with your vibrator or even your previous exes. He seeks out the spot within you that makes you grasp onto his shoulders and bite your lip in an attempt to hold back the sounds of your ecstasy.

You angle your body toward him so that he can reach deeper inside your slick cunt, and one of your hands makes its way up his thigh toward the tent of his jeans. You fumble at the zipper for a few seconds before grasping his steel length from the opening of his pants, and swiping your thumb across the engorged, red head weeping with precum. He mumbles a curse under his breath and you’re delighted to be able to have such an effect on him, but at that moment, his fingers dance over that spot once more, and combined with the consistent pressure against your nub, hurtles you off the edge. You’re too consumed in the feeling of bliss that spreads from your core all the way down to your toes that you slacken your grip on his cock.

Namjoon helps you through your orgasm by giving you a few more thrusts with his fingers, before withdrawing them entirely and you watch with hooded eyes as he licks your essence off each finger individually.

“Take your panties off and straddle me.” His commanding voice has you sitting up and pulling off your white cotton panties off with one hand, and he snatches the garment from you, tucking them into the back pocket of his jeans.

“White hmmm? You’re pretending to be so innocent but here you are, fucking me in a study pod in the library,” his baritone voice and filthy words send shivers down your spine, and he reaches for your waist and helps you to situate yourself over him. His grip prevents you from sinking down onto his cock, and you whine when the tip of him grazes against your still sensitive clit.

“Please,” you rotate your hips helplessly over him, trying to angle yourself just so that he can slip in.

“Please what babygirl?”

“Please fuck me.”

“Say that we can keep this topic for our essay, and then I’ll pound you so good, _____.”

“What?? Namjoon I swear-“

“Come on _____, you’re just one word away from another mindblowing orgasm,” he grinds the head of his cock into your slit, and you try your best to force your weight down on him, but his wiry strength keeps you in place and you almost sob in frustration.

“Cocky bastard, who said I enjoyed the last one?”

“I think the scratches on my shoulder and your bleeding lip might attest to just how much,” He buries his face into the crook of your neck, and you can feel him sucking a bruise into your skin.

You’re so wet at this point that you’re practically dripping onto him, and the feeling of his tongue laving over your sweaty skin is more than you can bear.

“Ok we can keep it so just fuck me already!”

His grip on you loosens at once and he slides in to the hilt, and the sensation of being stretched so wide leaves you breathless and gasping for air. For once, Namjoon’s just as affected as you, as he throws his head back against the headrest, digging his fingers into your thighs so hard that you can already feel bruises forming.

The feeling of your heat gripping him tightly has him panting in your ear, and you realise that he’s just been hiding his arousal all this while. Feeling a sudden rush of empowerment, you tighten your muscles around him, causing his thighs to tense into steel beneath you.

“Fuck, why are you so tight? You’re dripping wet on my cock, do you want to cum?” His penchant for dirty words only fans the flames of your orgasm, and you forget entirely about teasing him.

You place a hand against his chest as he bounces you on top of him, and every stroke fills you perfectly to the brim. He reaches down to roughly stroke your clit again, and his hips surge into yours repeatedly. Namjoon’s harsh, staccato breaths alert you of his nearing climax, and you bring your lips to his ear.

“I want to feel you cum inside me, can you cum for me Daddy?” He lets out a deep growl in response, and his hips start to stutter, thrusts becoming sloppy as he nears his orgasm. He gives one last flick to your clit, and the tension in your core is released, and you clamp your walls down around his pulsing length.

White hot bliss erupts from behind your tightly shut eyelids, and beneath you, Namjoon gives a few more sharp thrusts before painting your walls with his hot cum, and you relish the warmth as you slouch in his arms.

“That was an interesting method of conflict resolution,” you say as you climb off his lap, feeling some of his cum leak out onto your inner thighs. “Can I have my underwear back now?”

“I didn’t know how else to make Miss Top Student shut up. And it worked, didn’t it?” He tucks himself back into his pants, but makes no move to return your panties.

You roll your eyes in exasperation, tugging your skirt back into place and standing up so you wouldn’t stain the seat. “If you think you won, then you’re so wrong. But I guess it’s a lot better than the other alternative I imagined. Panties, now.”

“I like the thought of you walking out of here with my cum dripping down your thighs.”

You punch him on the shoulder for his lewd comment, but by now you’re already used to them. He follows your cue as you gather your things, holding the door of the pod open for you.

“What other alternative were you thinking of?”

“Well, let’s just say it was a premonition.”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading!!! I hope you liked my twist on the overly done college AU. Hopefully it wasn’t too confusing? I’ll leave the actual details of how her premonition works and all that ambiguous, but let’s just say that small details can be predicted, but bigger ones are sort of undetermined.

A HUGE THANK YOU to @ohmanholyjungkook and @blame-bts for kindly offering to beta for me!!

I’ve also posted this over at my side blog, @btsmutimagines so yeah haha. 

I would love to hear your feedback ♡

I said, I’m not gonna hurt ya.  I’m just going to bash your brains in.

Because how could I not?  Also because I recently got a Jack Torrence Funko Pop and that inspired me.  And thirdly because I think it’d be fascinating to see Ben portray Jack in a remake or something.

@wadeyourebarelyalive @zoesmama2024 @losethehours @fancydaddyfic