#kinesthetic learner

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

Abstract Many teachers and researchers, among others, continue to believe, despite the lack of evidence, that learning will be more effective if educators match their teaching approaches to students’ alleged learning styles. Scholars have called for more research on why the belief in learning styles is so appealing. This conceptual paper suggests four moral intuitions or sensibilities that underlie the appeal: (1) the desire for rational control, (2) our sense of justice, (3) the feeling that everyone is unique, and (4) reverence for the natural. Speaking to these intuitions could strengthen efforts to debunk the myth of learning styles in teacher education.

[..] Experts aren’t sure how the concept spread, but it might have had something to do with the self-esteem movement of the late ‘80s and early ‘90s. Everyone was special—so everyone must have a special learning style, too. Teachers told students about it in grade school. “Teachers like to think that they can reach every student, even struggling students, just by tailoring their instruction to match each student’s preferred learning format,” said Central Michigan University’s Abby Knoll, a PhD student who has studied learning styles. (Students, meanwhile, like to blame their scholastic failures on their teacher’s failure to align their teaching style with their learning style.)

Either way, “by the time we get students at college,” said the Indiana University professor Polly Husmann, “they’ve already been told ‘You’re a visual learner.’” Or aural, or what have you.

The thing is, they’re not. Or at least, a lot of evidence suggests that people aren’t really one certain kind of learner or another. In a study published last month in the journal Anatomical Sciences Education, Husmann and her colleagues had hundreds of students take the Vark questionnaire to determine what kind of learner they supposedly were. The survey then gave them some study strategies that seem like they would correlate with that learning style. Husmann found that not only did students not study in ways that seemed to reflect their learning style, those who did tailor their studying to suit their style didn’t do any better on their tests.

Husmann thinks the students had fallen into certain study habits, which, once formed, were too hard to break. Students seemed to be interested in their learning styles, but not enough to actually change their studying behavior based on them. And even if they had, it wouldn’t have mattered.

“I think as a purely reflective exercise, just to get you thinking about your study habits, [Vark] might have a benefit,” Husmann said. “But the way we’ve been categorizing these learning styles doesn’t seem to hold up.”

Another study published last year in the British Journal of Psychology found that students who preferred learning visually thought they would remember pictures better, and those who preferred learning verbally thought they’d remember words better. But those preferences had no correlation to which they actually remembered better later on—words or pictures. Essentially, all the “learning style” meant, in this case, was that the subjects liked words or pictures better, not that words or pictures worked better for their memories.

In other words, “there’s evidence that people do try to treat tasks in accordance with what they believe to be their learning style, but it doesn’t help them,” says Daniel Willingham, a psychologist at the University of Virginia. In 2015, he reviewed the literature on learning styles and concluded that “learning styles theories have not panned out.”

That same year, a Journal of Educational Psychology paper found no relationship between the study subjects’ learning-style preference (visual or auditory) and their performance on reading- or listening-comprehension tests. Instead, the visual learners performed best on all kinds of tests. Therefore, the authors concluded, teachers should stop trying to gear some lessons toward “auditory learners.” “Educators may actually be doing a disservice to auditory learners by continually accommodating their auditory learning style,” they wrote, “rather than focusing on strengthening their visual word skills.”

In our conversation, Willingham brought up another study, published in 2009, in which people who said they liked to think visually or verbally really did try to think that way: Self-proclaimed visualizers tried to create an image, and self-proclaimed verbalizers tried to form words. But, there was a rub, he said: “If you’re a visualizer and I give you pictures, you don’t remember pictures any better than anyone who says they’re verbalizer.”

This doesn’t mean everyone is equally good at every skill, of course. Really, Willingham says, people have different abilities, not styles. Some people read better than others; some people hear worse than others. But most of the tasks we encounter are only really suited to one type of learning. You can’t visualize a perfect French accent, for example.

==

Considering the sources of teacher training, Ed Schools, are extremely highly ideological, the perpetuation of this "neuromyth" is probably not an accident or misunderstanding.

These are the schools that have attached quasi-religious overtones to their preferred, but ineffective, process of teaching kids to read, and have been denying evidence-based methods for decades.

[er-cryptid]

Kinesthetic Learner Preferences

[studyrights]

Kinesthetic Learner: Engaging with Education Through Movement

For kinesthetic learners, traditional study methods like reading textbooks or listening to lectures might not always be the most effective way to absorb information. Instead, kinesthetic learners thrive on hands-on activities and physical engagement with the material. If you're a kinesthetic learner, here are some strategies tailored to your learning style:

Interactive Study Tools: Look for interactive study tools and resources that allow you to engage with the material in a tactile way. This could include physical models, manipulatives, or educational apps that offer interactive simulations or games related to the subject you're studying.

Hands-On Projects: Incorporate hands-on projects into your study routine. Whether it's building a model, conducting experiments, or creating something related to the topic, actively engaging with the material through practical applications can deepen your understanding and retention.

Role-Playing and Simulations: Role-playing scenarios or participating in simulations can help kinesthetic learners grasp complex concepts by immersing themselves in real-world situations. This could involve acting out historical events, simulating scientific experiments, or engaging in mock debates or discussions.

Physical Movement: Kinesthetic learners often benefit from incorporating physical movement into their study sessions. Consider pacing while reciting information, using a standing desk or exercise ball, or taking short breaks to stretch or engage in light exercise to keep your body and mind active.

Study Groups and Peer Teaching: Joining study groups or finding a study buddy can provide opportunities for hands-on learning experiences. Work together to solve problems, conduct experiments, or teach each other concepts through demonstrations and collaborative activities.

Field Trips and Experiential Learning: Whenever possible, take advantage of field trips or experiential learning opportunities that allow you to explore concepts in real-world settings. Visiting museums, nature reserves, or relevant industry sites can provide valuable hands-on experiences and deepen your understanding of the subject matter.

Use of Gestures and Visualization: Incorporate gestures and visualization techniques into your study process. Use hand movements to represent concepts or draw diagrams and charts to visually represent information. Engaging multiple senses can reinforce learning for kinesthetic learners.

Practice-Based Learning: Focus on practicing and applying what you've learned through hands-on activities and real-world problem-solving. Whether it's solving equations, conducting experiments, or practicing skills in a simulated environment, active participation is key for kinesthetic learners to solidify their understanding.

By incorporating these strategies into your study routine, you can capitalize on your kinesthetic learning style and enhance your academic success. Remember to experiment with different approaches to find what works best for you, and don't hesitate to adapt and modify your study methods as needed. With dedication and perseverance, you can harness the power of hands-on learning to achieve your academic goals.

[ouaw-facts-i-just-made-up]

Gideon leans into the whole "big dumb idiot" thing, cause folks are gonna assume that about him anyway, but he wishes people saw him as smarter. Learning from books doesn't come naturally to him, but once he gets his hands on something *real* he'll have it figured out quick. People don't really give him the chance, though. It makes him feel a little bad, like he's too stupid to be let in on things or give input on anything.

[ragnar0c]

The rest of Oracle of Stars chapter 4's artwork. (Her Teachings) Snippets from Hana's notebook!

I thought it'd be cute and fun to add since Hana carries it everywhere. You can see her more fun childish side here with the doodles, I thought about adding a bunch of eye drawings too (in typical beginner artist fashion). VS her thoughts and monologue where she takes herself sooo seriously. Too seriously. And her actions which are less fun.

At the end of each chapter, the author's notes are usually that Hana mentions. Why not use the notebook to show her takes too? It's so fun and I think it matches the pencil artworks too!

Thinking about adding chapter 1's A/N images to this book template or trying to draw parts of the cel arc for chapter 2's A/N. Thank god Hana is an amateur bc if I draw it poorly I can pin it on her lolllll

[theflyindutchwoman]

Listen… Lucy recording audiobooks for Tim is probably my favourite moment. The way she just made him feel seen and helped him understand that what society deem is a learning disability, is actually a strength… And his little bashful and shy smile after that… That was such a big moment for them. So to have Tim acknowledge how Lucy helped him score so well in the sergeant's exam is perfect. As is his desire to help her study this time. It's the best kind of parallel. But it's the timing that makes it even more special… Because Lucy just found out that her five-player trade, that thing she did to help Tim get a better job (and promotion), might actually bite her in the butt and hold her back for her own promotion. Her future is a little more uncertain now so that support becomes even more important... She's always the one who helps others, so she needs to have someone in her corner, ready to go the distance for her as well. And you know that Tim is going to come through and be his supportive self.

[strawberri-syrup]

who wants to learn about blood vessel physiology???????

[memorylanediaries]

The Art of Individually tailored Learning Styles and Abilities

In 2013, I was a young student in Grade 7 at a prominent traditional high school in the parish of Manchesterin Jamaica. My classmates and I were navigating a tumultuous time, as we were fresh from the loins of our loving and patient preparatory school teachers, whom we even referred to as aunties and uncles. I'd say we struggled to integrate ourselves into the new environment and culture of high schools. After all, we were all students of different learning styles and abilities.

I was lucky to have a teacher, Mrs. Johnson, who recognized that each student learned differently. She encouraged me, a visual-kinesthetic learner, to express my creativity through art and craft while also providing extra support to my peers who needed it.

One day, we were assigned a project on the different religions in history. While others struggled to memorize dates and facts, I created a 3D flip book depicting the different religions and all that they encompassed.

I was fortunate enough to also have a mom who enjoyed putting time and effort into assisting me with completing my assignments, especially if it required a hands-on creative touch.

Mrs. Johnsons approach helped me excel, and my project became a catalyst for all her class discussions even after I moved on to a higher grade level.

This experience taught me that learning styles and abilities are diverse and valuable. It showed me that embracing individuality and creativity can lead to profound understanding and growth.

This belief has stayed with me, and I believe that education should foster inclusive and adaptive environments, celebrating the unique strengths of each learner even up to the tertiary level of learning.

[pathologicalreid]

bringing your work home with you | S.R.

spencer shares details of a case with you - with a hands-on learning approach

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: case information from 10x17 "breath play", erotic asphyxiation, choking, fingering, praise kink, aftercare, explicit consent, softdom!spencer, sub!reader, dacryphilia (ish), established relationship dl;dr. word count: 1.74k a/n: im no longer afraid of being perceived on the internet (lie) and will begin writing whatever i want (truth). including this.

“How was work?” You asked hesitantly, looking across the couch to where Spencer was sitting. He was lost in thought, although, you supposed if you had just returned from Wisconsin, you’d feel relatively similar.

Spencer hummed absentmindedly in response while flipping through the pages of the file he brought home with him. “The UnSub certainly had a unique signature,” he answered, dragging his thumb across his lower lip in thought.

You tilted your head to the side in curiosity, “Oh, yeah?” It wasn’t often that Spencer shared details of cases with you, usually because the information he’d be divulging was privileged, but you shuffled over a cushion in hopes that he’d share with you. “What was it?”

He reached over and ruffled your hair affectionately, “He had a particular affinity for erotic asphyxiation. Each of his victims had read this book, Bare Reflections, and that’s how he found them – through sexual fantasies.”

Furrowing your brows, you rested your face in your hand, “So like… sex choking?”

“Yes, love. Like sex choking,” Spencer said, not without humor, before getting up and going to the kitchen, asking you if you needed anything as he did.

When he returned, sitting down on the couch and flipping the file back open, you leaned to the side and said, “I never got the whole choking thing. Not being able to breathe never seemed very sexy to me.”

At that, Spencer closed the file he was scribbling in and set it on the coffee table, “It’s not meant to fully restrict your breathing. At least, not if you’re doing it properly.”

“And you know how to do it properly?” You challenged, raising a single brow at your boyfriend.

He laughed breathily at your test, “I know human anatomy well enough to know not to press on your trachea.”

You fail to hide the way your eyes widen when he speaks to you, his use of the words ‘your trachea’ implying that he is now thinking about choking you. “Cool,” you responded, your brain spinning as you began to think about Spencer’s hand on your throat.

“Come here,” Spencer spoke up, already grabbing your waist and sliding you across the worn leather of the couch. He carefully guided your body over his own until you’re straddling him – one knee on either side of his hips. “You’re a kinesthetic learner, you’ll do better with a hands-on approach.”

Letting a shuddered breath loose, you met Spencer’s eyes, “Hi,” you whispered, keeping your voice low as if you were sharing a secret in a crowded room. Without waiting for him to move, you ducked your head and pressed your lips to his. Quickly, Spencer’s lips coaxed yours open, allowing for his tongue to slip into your mouth.

Spencer’s arms wrapped tightly around you, pressing your chest to his so that you could feel the buttons of his work shirt through the thin cotton of your t-shirt. You were severely underdressed compared to him, lounging in just a t-shirt and underwear while he was wearing his work attire – it just added to the power dynamic you were navigating.

Gently, Spencer tugged at your lower lip, taking the flesh between his teeth before pulling away from the kiss. “Do you trust me?” He asked, loosening his hold on you, and instead running his hands down your arms in a soothing manner.

Straightening up, you nodded, “Yes,” you responded, reaching a hand up and grabbing a fistful of his shirt.

Lifting his dominant hand to your neck, your breathing faltered as he put his hand at the front of your neck, the thumb on one side and the remainder of his fingers on the opposite. “Is this alright?” He murmured, using his free hand to trace small circles on your inner thigh, leaving you wishing you could press your legs together in a desperate attempt for friction.

“Yes,” you repeated yourself, taking the inside of your cheek between your molars and sighing when he moved his hand from your leg.

Nodding assuredly, Spencer brushed your hair from your face, his dominant hand never straying from its newfound home on your throat. “Good, I’m going to keep asking because we’ve never talked about this before,” he informed you. “I won’t fully restrict your airway. If you need me to stop at any point, just tap my arm three times.”

His words led you to relax. The two of you left almost everything on the table, and you were usually good about discussing things ahead of time. You were sure he’d start doing things he knows you like in order to put you at ease. “Thank you,” you whispered, studying his golden irises.

“Such good manners for me, angel,” he praised you, noting the way your back straightens up when he does so. “When I squeeze the sides of your throat like this,” he said, keeping his voice gentle as his hand tightened around your neck, “I’m stopping some of the air from getting to your brain, which makes you feel lightheaded, and when I let go,” he released his firm hold, “You feel a release of dopamine, serotonin, and endorphins that make your head spin.”

As Spencer guided you through the process, you felt yourself getting needier. Humming lowly as you came down from the high, you noticed Spencer’s hand back between your thighs – you couldn’t tell when he had moved his hand, you were too preoccupied.

You held your breath as his hand slipped into your panties, “Hey,” he chided, snapping you out of your anticipation. “Don’t hold your breath,” he says sternly, “I won’t touch you if you hold your breath.”

Pointedly taking a deep breath, it took all of your focus to maintain your breathing as he gently slid a finger between your folds, the wet noise only muffled by the fabric of your underwear. Tentatively, Spencer slipped his finger inside you, swirling it around your inner walls before pulling it out and pushing it back in, squeezing the sides of your throat as he started fingering you at a steady pace.

“Do you feel that?” He asked, continuing the pace he had set, keeping his voice low as he spoke to you. “How when I squeeze your throat your cunt tightens around my finger?”

Reaching a hand up, you gripped his forearm and placed your other hand on his shoulder, trying to steady yourself and desperately needing something to do with your hands. You let out a soft moan as he easily added another finger to his ministrations, your volume growing louder as he released your throat. Your skin flushed as you bit your bottom lip and looked up to the ceiling.

Quickly squeezing your neck, Spencer brought your attention back down to him, “Keep your eyes on me, love.”

You nodded almost imperceptibly in response, blinking rapidly, but leaving your head where Spencer held it – gently forcing you to maintain eye contact with him as he started curling his fingers inside of you, pushing his fingertips against your inner walls. “Spence,” you whispered, letting out a low whine as you feel your orgasm beginning to build in your lower belly.

“Did you wanna cum? Make a mess all over my hand?” Spencer asked tantalizingly, resuming pressure on your throat before you even had a chance to respond to him. He was enjoying this just as much as you were.

As you maintained eye contact with Spencer, he began to press the heel of his palm against your clit, the pressure only adding to your lightheadedness. With his hand on your neck, your moans come out garbled, forcing their way through your body. “Fuck,” the word came out as a hiss as tears gathered in your lower lash line. Between the pressure on your clit and throat and the continuing ministrations of his digits, your orgasm built up quickly.

In-kind with the pressure on your throat, you squeezed firmly at Spencer’s forearm, and he watched carefully to make sure that you weren’t trying to tap on his arm.

Your tears flooded over the edge, slowly streaming down your cheeks. You blinked to clear your eyes, but you didn’t let your eye contact with Spencer waver.

A small whimper escaped your throat, and Spencer hummed, “There you go, angel.” He said, nodding as his fingers continued working you to your peak, “I know,” he cajoled when you whined again. “I know. Let it go for me,” he murmured, watching as your body shuddered.

Once your orgasm hits its zenith, Spencer released his hold on your neck, moving his hand to your shoulder to keep you upright while your pussy spasmed around his still-thrusting fingers. Endorphins flooded your mind, prolonging your orgasm for god knows how long until he finally withdrew his fingers from your underwear.

While you remembered how to breathe, Spencer moved his hand from your shoulder to your back, gently pressing on your spine and letting your body fall forward. “I knew you’d like that,” he whispered mischievously, and if you had the energy, you would have rolled your eyes. “How are you feeling?”

Groaning, you buried your face in the crook of Spencer’s neck, “Jell-O,” you responded simply.

Your eyes were barely open as Spencer reached over for a tissue box, wiping your slick off of his hand before slipping his hand beneath the waistband of your panties. You whined and tried to push his hand away, “I know, baby. I just want to wipe you up a bit.” He told you before gathering your wetness on the tissue, wrapping it up and placing it on the end table.

“Toss it,” you mumbled sleepily, ignorant of the fact that you’re still in his lap.

Wrapping an arm around you tightly, Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “When you feel like moving, I’ll clean up.” He reached over for a glass of water from the end table, grabbing it from its coaster and trying to hand it to you, “Come on, you need water.”

Sighing, you forced your eyes open, “’m tired,” you told him, reaching a shaky hand up for the glass.

Spencer kept a hand on the glass as you drank from it, setting it back down when you were done and smiling softly at your sleepy nature. “Rehydrating is a nonnegotiable,” he whispered gently, but you were already asleep - or close enough to it that you didn’t respond.

[tutordoctoraus3]

Discover the best study techniques for kinesthetic learners in our latest blog post! 💪✨ If you're a kinesthetic learner, you thrive through action and movement. In our article, we've gathered effective strategies that will help you maximize your learning and information retention.

📚💡 From incorporating games and physical activities related to the subject matter to creating interactive diagrams and mind maps, we provide practical tools for you to make the most of your unique learning style.

✏️🎨 Don't miss out on our creative ideas to turn your notes into visual and tactile artworks. You'll explore techniques such as using colors, handwriting, and creating models or prototypes that engage your kinesthetic mind while diving into the study material.

🌟✋ Get ready to experience a new level of engagement and understanding as a kinesthetic learner! Check out our blog now: https://tutordoctor.com.au/blog/study-techniques-for-kinesthetic-learners/

[prettieinpink]

CREATING A STUDY SCHEDULE/ROUTINE 

PLANNING/SCHEDULING

LIST YOUR ACADEMIC STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES. This is so you can allocate time accordingly and avoid wasting any time. 

PRIORITISE ANY SUBJECTS. These may be subjects that will help you in your future career or just a subject you especially want a good grade in. Anything for these subjects then becomes the most important on your to-do list.

DIVIDE TIME EACH DAY. Not all days you are going to be able to sit down at your desk at the same time. Instead, according to your energy levels and planned activities, divide your time.

E.g I have cheerleading after school and I'm going to be so tired, so I’ll do my studying in the morning instead. 

ESTABLISH BREAKS. Depending on how long you can study for, place a suitable break in between. This helps make studying more productive, but only if your breaks are. 

CREATING

USE YOUR TIMETABLE. On days you don’t have a specific subject, dedicate more time to that one. 

CONSIDER YOUR LEARNING STYLE. This helps to be a bit more specific when creating it, instead of winging it and just doing anything. Having a consistent way of studying helps us learn better. 

E.g I’m a visual learner, so I’ll watch animations. I'm an auditory learner so I’ll watch a video of someone explaining it. 

KNOW WHAT YOU WILL DO DURING STUDYING. Do not just wing studying, it’s unproductive and you’re more likely to waste time instead of using it.

 Before you start studying, write a to-do list of everything you need to do during that session and how you will do it. Less time time-consuming and allows you to use time productively. 

SAMPLE – this is Lanny’s daily study routine without any upcoming tests, as an early bird, kinesthetic learner and needs breaks to think with clarity.

Morning

Review my flashcards in preparation for any test. 

Write/note any flashcards I'm struggling with. 

 Afterschool

Check seqta/school website to access my courses, in which I’ll write down which subjects I had. 

Do a few quick blurts on paper of everything I learned in those subjects with prior reading. I only do this for HASS, math and science + any electives that require it. (blurting method)

Then I recheck my blurts, add in anything that I’ve missed and correct with a different coloured pen. 

After, I push those papers aside but I do not discard them. I’ll then complete my online science homework + class workbook. If I happen not to understand anything I’ll watch a video on it and then complete some questions on that. 

I’ll take a break around now because, on an estimate, it has been around 20-40 minutes since I started depending on how my science homework is. I usually eat something and then get back to it. 

Math is next. I’ll complete any math homework, then I’ll practice doing math questions on my own. What I like to do is watch a math video, pause the question without the answer then watch to see if I got it. Effective because they explain it and I can see where I went wrong without analysing my working out which is rather time-consuming. 

I take another break. Math stuff usually takes around 20-30 minutes. 

I then do HASS, which is the easiest. I usually read an article or watch a video on hass then apply that knowledge by answering questions OR doing assigned chapter work. 

I do not study English after school, but I usually read an assigned passage/book and then try to apply any techniques/knowledge by taking that paragraph apart and analysing it. Sometimes, I write my paragraphs using any taught techniques and then mark them. 

Then, I redo my blurtings again but without prior reading then recheck and correct. Then I am finished for the afternoon!!

Evening

Review flashcards then watch a video/read an article on what I was struggling with in the morning but I do not do anything to consolidate this knowledge. 

That is all, please feel free to ask me about any questions about studying as I don't really post much about it, I'll love to help out any fellow students! 

[kari-sims]

thanks for the tag @lostinsixam, now that was an adventure! literally did it twice and still got broccoli, oh well... lol

tagging @oatberrytea, @butteredfrogs, @changingplumbob, @living-undead feel free to do it if you want, just have fun! <3

HEY EVERYONE;

here's mine! tag your mutuals!

@veone @bunmou @kosmokhaos @cavernsofdarkness @shandykey @vampiremilfs @bri-rawr @non-sims-4 @rollingsim and anyone else!

[smartgirrl]

tips for different learning styles

we all learn differently, so tailoring your routine to your unique needs can make a huge difference in how effectively you study.

for visual learners

create color-coded mind maps -> link ideas with arrows and branches, using different colors

red for key points, blue for examples, green for definitions

use diagrams and charts ->detailed diagrams and flowcharts used to illustrate processes

highlight key text -> use a highlighter for dense readings to create a clear structure

watch educational videos -> subject-specific videos and pause them periodically to take notes on key visuals

Crash Course - they have pretty much every subject Khan Academy - also a lot of subjects Amoebea Sisters - good science explaining (esp biology) Brilliant - has great diagrams + excersizes

˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ ·

for auditory learners

record yourself reading key notes -> and listen to the recordings while reviewing.

study with a friend and explain concepts to each other out loud.

if a reading is especially dense, explain them step by step

use podcasts or audiobooks -> use podcasts or audiobooks related to your subjects as a way to absorb information on the go.

Hardcore History Science Vs Math Ed Podcast College Info Geek Podcast

˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ ·

for kinesthetic learners

space while studying -> try studying while moving, like walking around or pacing, to keep your body engaged.

hands-on-learning -> participate in hands-on activities like experiments or creating models to better understand abstract concepts.

create interactive flashcards -> shuffle flashcards and lay them out on the floor or a table, grouping related concepts to create a physical connection between ideas.

˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ ·

for reading/writing learners

summarize in your own words ->re-write the key points of a reading in your own words

create a one-page summary for each chapter and try to condense the information into a clear structure

annotate as you need -> jot down important ideas in the margins

underline significant concepts and write your thoughts or questions directly in the text

use practice tests -> review your practice test carefully, writing down why each choice was correct or incorrect, to reinforce your learning

[mischiefbuckley]

lucy recording an audiobook for tim because he’s a kinesthetic learner like lucy cares about him so much what isn’t he seeing and then her offering to set him up in the following episode is so crazy

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #55] Secrets

warnings: he he he, healthy communication!! wahoo!! shower (act surprised), a lil jealousy from koo, mentions of past escapades with jimin, jk with a point to prove!!, jk is a very bad housemate in this one (but he's sexy so tis okay), scene of the crime: jimin's room, spanking, fingering, dominant koo, GASP! a bird!!! in the middle of business!!!!, hehehhe, confessions, a very lovely shag <3

wc: 14K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

Every job you've ever applied for, and every resume you've ever sent, tells the same little white lie: great at working under pressure.

While it could be argued that you are perfectly capable of functioning through high-pressure situations, it's more so that you've just mastered the art of masking how stressed you truly are.

It starts in your head. The constant reminder of how much work you have to do, how much time menial tasks will take, and how it will impact the time spent on worthwhile jobs. Then, you deliberate over that: What is worthwhile? Who decides? You?

These insidious thoughts coat your brain like gasoline and drip down your spinal column. Make themselves known in your chest. Flood your heart, until it feels like it's gonna burst.

Your lungs are robust, though. They function normally. Filter out the smoke that inevitably fills them once you spark and find yourself ablaze with the catastrophic consequences of overworking yourself.

Still, you work, work, work until you're burnt from the inside out.

Leaning your head against the cold metal of Jeongguk's apartment complex elevator, the change in temperature is welcome. Respite. Comes with the territory of being close to him, you think, regardless of the steel doors. You hear a ding. Step back. Watch as they open, and consider letting them close again. Going back down. Away from him, and the inevitable conversation that is about to happen.

His voicemail had been ominous. You're not sure if it was intentional, but you do know he'll have just gotten home from therapy. You tell yourself that's it; he just wants to share how it went.

But you're not stupid. You know his voice well enough now to know his tells. He's annoyed, and it would seem that you're the person he's taken issue with. Nobody's perfect, and that extends to the both of you. It's not always gonna be plain sailing. You'd get bored if it was.

Taehyung's words have been ringing in your ears ever since he first spoke them aloud, echoing a statement you'd considered yourself: remember who you're doing this for.

Secrets have been kept for Jeongguk's benefit, but the closer and closer you get to his door, the more stupid it all seems. Perhaps that's why you'd been so insistent on keeping it hush-hush, though. You knew he'd have a problem with it. Likes to fight his own battles. Doesn't enjoy leaning on others for support.

That's the thing, though. He's trying to learn how to, now—trying to understand himself a little bit. Regulate his emotions.

With this, naturally, comes the establishment of firmer boundaries; the acknowledgement that his feelings are valued and justified, and deserve to be known just as much as anyone else's. No more burying his upsets just to keep peace.

Or at least, his therapist said something of a pretty similar sentiment during their session. If he's shelling out the amount of money he is on therapy in an overly beige, awfully pleasant office, then he may as well learn the lessons he's being taught.

He's always been a kinesthetic learner. Has to put theory into practice.

And if you've ever taught him anything, it's that his emotions are safe with you. Never belittled or ridiculed.

Which is probably why he opens the door with a smile. Forgets his upset, for he's blinded by stars.

You're a little less glittered up than usual, but there are sparkles on your skin regardless. There always is.

Easy, it is, for Jeongguk to be distracted by you. His thoughts drift to and fro, like tiny speckles of glitter in water. Ebbing and flowing from thought to thought, his brain is constantly in pursuit of you. No guided meditation video on YouTube or breathing exercise could ever calm him like you do.

Which is why your urgency (and hard-to-hide frown) confuses him as you ask, "Is Jimin in?"

His brows pinch together in an almost comedic fashion. Why would you want to see Jimin?

"No?" He questions back, a little childishly. It'd make you laugh if you weren't so nervous.

"Okay," you breathe out a sigh of relief, thankful for privacy as you step beyond the entrance to his apartment without waiting to be invited in. The door just shuts behind you, and Jeongguk remains in place, entertained by the thorny attitude you seem to have. Shoes off, coat up on a peg, you're at one with the furniture. Are exactly where you're supposed to be. Jeongguk loves having you here. Loves it so much. "Good."

As he turns to face you, a look of bemusement rests upon his pretty features. It's been a couple of days since you were last within touching distance.

He's forgotten all about his earlier irritation. Thinks the perplexion on your face is from—well, he doesn't really know. He just doesn't realise he's to blame.

"Hi," he smiles, all dreamy and entranced by the mere sight of you, and it makes you want to cry.

So pretty, is Jeon Jeongguk in all of his dishevelled glory, his busy day weakening his product's hold on his hair, dressed down in sweats 'cause he figured he wouldn't see you this evening.

Hair dark and lightly waved, it frames his features perfectly. A little grown out, the cut has lost its initial shape, which means he has to style it if he wants to look half decent, but you always secretly prefer him like this. As he bites down on his bottom lip, there's that fabled glisten; his lip ring doing the thing that always makes your stomach flip.

But your stomach is in bits, and he seems to wise up to this as his brows crease together.

"What's up?" he asks, strolling to close the gap between you both. Reaches out to place a palm on either one of your shoulders. Tilts his head like a sweet puppy as he asks, "Hey?"

And now you're confused, because he's the one who left you with a voicemail explicitly stating that you need to talk.

"You're annoyed with me," is all you say, because it's all you know.

The thing is, he doesn't seem annoyed. In fact, he appears perfectly lovely.

"But also," you add. "How was therapy?"

"Who said that?" He protests your first point. "And was fine—will tell you later. Tell me what you're on about first."

"Sure?" You check because you genuinely want to know how it went. "And you did!"

"Sure," he nods, but then lets his features snap back into a state of confusion. "But when did I ever say that?!"

"The voicemail?"

"The—Oh, no," he laughs. Like, really laughs. Heartily. Heavenly . Celestially . Lets a small space form between you both so that he can use his hands to express himself a little. "B, no."

In all honestly, he was annoyed.

Fresh off the bat from his very first therapy session, which he still wasn't convinced was the right thing for him, he'd been greeted home with a flyer to Taehyung's next show.

It wasn't anything bad, but it also wasn't anything you had clued Jeongguk in on. There were mentions of his friends and their respective businesses under the heading: Skills Auction.

Secrets had been kept, and from the looks of it, everyone was in on it.

He took it personally.

Didn't understand why you wouldn't tell him whatever it is that's going on. Considered the possibility that the reason went beyond inconsideration. That it was deliberate .

Once he noticed what the auction was for —to 'help with a local start-up'— he knew he needed to speak to you.

He chalked up two possibilities.

One: you really just didn't care to tell him, and the auction was to raise money for something totally irrelevant to him, or two: you deliberately didn't tell him, 'cause his restaurant is the start-up.

He's not sure which idea bothers him more; you forgetting him, or you keeping things from him.

That's a lie. Truth be told, it's the idea of you forgetting him that really shatters his soul.

You hadn't heard the voicemail until a little while later, so Jeongguk had the chance to simmer and dwell upon it all. Has found his annoyance wilting over the course of the afternoon, and now adoration blooms in its place with just a single look at you.

"But you said we need to talk," you say with a slight pout that you're really trying not to let show.

You hate feeling this feeble, but when the words 'we need to talk' echoed into your ear, you'd almost cried on the spot. Called a cab immediately. Have Jeongguk on your family location app (at his request during a night when he was behind the bar in Dionysus and wanted to make sure you got home safe), so knew he was home. Welled up a couple times in the taxi, too.

Your new fear of losing him is well and truly established, now.

"Because we do ," he says with a soft smile, as if he didn't use potentially the most alarming phrase he could have done. "But not like that ."

"Then why would you say it like that?!"

"Because I didn't think you'd take it like that!"

He's laughing, but he's also trying to soothe you. It's not that he's laughing at you, or at least, not in a mean-spirited way. He thinks it's all rather cute.

"Christ alive, B," he shakes his head, his smile not once ever faltering. "You think I'd have gone to all that trouble trying to get you, only to go and break up with you a week or so later?!"

The way you gasp is comical. Deserving of an Oscar, he thinks. There's a glisten back in your eyes, evidence that you're a little calmer than you had been, as you begin to playfully bend his words.

"Oh, so first you wanna break up with me, and now even dating me was trouble," you joke, knowing that he didn't mean it like that in the slightest. Given the fact you've already had one overreaction, a second one is amusing to you both. Far less serious, this time around.

"Fuck off," he laughs, pleased that your humour is back to biting point. He could have phrased his need to speak to you a little better, but honestly? To see you this worried? To know how much you care? Oh, it's nice. Such a simple declaration of how you feel for him, without uttering a single word. He thinks he should return the favour. "No. Don't twist my words, Byeol. You know you're my favourite thing ever—"

Or at least, he tries to. You're just in too much of a teasing mood now that your woes have been remedied to let him.

"So now I'm a thing , too?!"

It's been said before that the good is never easy, and the easy never good—and in his eyes, the way you get a little difficult at times like this just makes you so much better. You scratch that teeny tiny part of his brain that sits between his unbridled loyalty and complete adoration. A spot reserved just for you.

"Mhmm," he nods, closing the gap between you. Doesn't stop until he can smell your perfume. Cups your jaw, and presses an incredibly sincere kiss to your lips. Soft and hard all within the same second, Jeongguk is a man of complexities. Perfectly imperfect. Just right. "The prettiest thing. Mine, all mine."

The way he nudges his nose against yours feels like he's welcoming you home. Says a silent 'hello ,' or 'I've missed you so much.' Both would be applicable.

"So you don't wanna break up?" You ask, pedantic just for the sake of being so. You know the answer. God, you've never felt so sure of someone in your entire life.

"How are you both the smartest girl I know and also the dumbest?" he grins, before kissing you gently to make up for the fact he called you dumb (and also the fact he's about to call you stupid). "So stupid—" he laughs, tucking hair behind your ear. "—but so goddamn pretty, B. God, my gorgeous girl. Have you spent all afternoon thinking—"

"No," you pout, cutting him off because it's so embarrassing that you actually let your mind fret like that.

"You could have just called."

"Was scared."

"You know how crazy I am about you?" He insists, pulling you in for an all-encompassing hug. Squeezes. Might crush you. Good . You'd welcome it. "You literally never have to worry about that."

Arms strong, he keeps you enclosed as he waltzes you both to his room. Giggles along with you as the awkward footing makes it so much more clumsy than it really needs to be. Refuses to let go of you until you reach the foot of his bed. Gets you right where he wants you: on top of his sheets, trapped beneath his body, even if you are both fully clothed.

"So what did you want to talk about?" You ask, knowing that it's best to get it over and done with now. You aren't stupid—even if he did lovingly say you were earlier—and it doesn't take a genius to figure it out. There's only one thing you've done recently that you haven't discussed with him, which you really should have done.

"Take a wild guess," he says with a slight smirk.

It's almost as if he knows you'll still think he's the sexiest man alive regardless of the fact you're about to be reprimanded.

In fact, the telling-off might make him even hotter. The way you bite down on your lip is accidental, but the thoughts of being bent over his knee are a little too tempting.

Jeongguk's usually good at reading your tells but thinks you're just cutely holding back the truth, so he doesn't think much of it, as if he isn't highly aware of how naturally your legs wrap around his body and how perfectly his chain dangles just shy of your chin. He's too hot. Too goddamn hot for you to think straight most of the time.

He's also been in this position too many times before, and knows exactly what it leads to, for him to not get a little excited . You both ignore it, for now.

Instead, you pout. Close your eyes. Whine a little, but are interrupted when Jeongguk starts kissing you again. Couldn't help himself. You look too cute. He really likes how you've done your hair today. Your outfit, too. The way he can't figure out what colour your glitter is, 'cause it shines differently depending on the light. The fact you're wearing his favourite of all your perfumes. And you. Just in general.

God, he just likes you so much. Forgets everything whenever you're near. All he wants is to indulge in the way it feels to be with you. Never let it go.

Lips pressing into yours, the rest of his body kind of follows suit. While one of his arms supports him by the side of your head, the other hand roams. Feels. Squeezes and strokes wherever it can; the base of your throat, the curve of your waist, the fullness of your chest. It's not without reciprocation, though.

Your hands are just as familiar as his - one in his hair, the other squeezing at his ass. A rhythm is set. Hips languid. Effort minimal. The way you rut against one another is lazy, neither of you really aiming for sex—but also neither of you would be mad if it was the inevitable outcome, either way.

Eventually, though, he pulls back. Is a little out of breath. Lets his nose nudge against yours as he shakes his head.

"No," he smiles. "Can't distract me."

"You started it."

"True," he admits, stealing a single kiss and then rolling off you to stare at the ceiling. There's just a single bird above you, now.

It's taunting Jeongguk. He knows exactly what it says. Has only lasted so long because it was strung up after that first Busan trip. Has a little more longevity than the others did.

He reaches over to grab your hand. Ignores the fact his sweats are making his desire for you abundantly obvious. Instead, he links his fingers with yours and holds them on his stomach. Says, "Jimin left the flyer for Tae's next show on the counter."

"Shit."

Jeongguk laughs. It's quiet, but you can feel his chest thud a little from the contractions of his lungs.

He isn't really sure what reaction he was expecting, but is pleased that you aren't trying to deny anything. While you both may bullshit a little from time to time, you'll always admit to it if you're called out on it. You're only human. Not saints, but not sinners, either.

"Yeah, B," he says with a small laugh. " Shit ."

There's gasoline in your heart again, but then Jeongguk squeezes your fingers, and it seems to pump the fluid out. Clears your system. Assures you that everything is okay.

" Skills Auction ," Jeongguk quotes the flyer.

"Mhmm."

"To help support a local start-up, huh?"

You glance across to him, brows a little furrowed, penance prevailing. You really do feel shitty for not including him in on the plans, even if your intentions were good.

"Mhmm."

He twists his head now to meet your gaze. Tries to read your expression. Doesn't try too hard, cause he'll get distracted again, no doubt.

"So why are all the boys listed? Or their workplaces, at least?" Jeongguk asks, and you know exactly what he's talking about.

Advertising space in the local paper, thanks to Namjoon. Custom furniture, courtesy of Min's Studio. A year's free consultation with Jimin's interior design firm. If one of your friends has a sought-after skillset (of which they all do) then they've been roped in. Even Taehyung; a chance to win an original work of his.

Perhaps 'win' is the wrong term.

It's an auction, after all. Bids will be made. But you hope they'll be made competitively. Drive the prices up. Force people to spend pretty pennies—which is exactly why people from Shilla Finances had been added to the guestlist.

They're assholes with money to burn, and they all like to win. You reckon if you have them competing against each other, you'll rake money in.

Before you get a chance to start explaining, he adds, "And where do I fit into all of this?"

"Good question," you say quietly. There's no point in denying it, now. You're not stupid but nor is he. "Look, before you say anything— I was gonna tell you."

"But you haven't ," he reminds you of your wrongdoing. Just like that time he lied about texting a girl to hang out all those months ago, and you refused to go easy on him, he's gonna make sure you learn your lesson. "The show is next week."

With a nod, you know you need to be straightforward with him about your plans. "But I haven't, you're right."

It's not without reason.

Jeongguk is stubborn at best; proud at his worst. Hates accepting help. Even Yoongi had to convince Jeongguk to let him in on the business proposal to take to the bank—and Jeongguk feels ever so embarrassed that Yoongi saw him put in so much hard work only to achieve absolutely nothing. Makes him feel inadequate.

But the restaurant is Jeongguk's dream .

And if you can help him achieve his dream, of course you're gonna try.

Ever since he got the call from the bank, there's been a quiet disappointment in his eyes whenever moments of contemplation have washed over him. Sloped shoulders, firm pouts. It's been hard to watch.

Jeongguk doesn't have the capital to purchase the retail unit outright now that it's for sale, and the bank wouldn't wanna take a chance on an inexperienced businessman like him. Fresh out of university, he doesn't have the credentials built up, yet.

But what Jeongguk does have—and what you'd argue is his absolute strength when it comes to his business plans—is people who love him and want him to succeed. People who will do all they can to help him out in times of need, just like he would for them.

And so when the idea to do a skills sale came into your head, you just sort of ran with it.

The concept is simple: get punters to bid on prizes. Highest bidder wins. The competition aspect will surely propel prices, and the prizes are things that money can't buy, or at least not easily.

The funds raised, once small fees are settled?

Jeongguks, to help with the restaurant start-up. A gift from you all, really. Not just you, even if you are the mastermind.

You didn't even realise how much momentum the entire thing had gained until you were putting together the finishing touches with Taehyung earlier that day.

The collection he's showing is small. Postcard-sized, intricately detailed moments of time spent with his friends, captured in an abstract medium. They're reasonably priced—a little lower than his going rate, to ensure sales—and after the costs of his materials is deducted, the proceeds will go towards the 'start-up'.

The start-up or Jeongguk's dream. Whatever you wanna call it.

The rest of his friends have all donated their time and efforts free of charge. You've even managed to rope in a few companies to partner with the auction. Bartered with Taehyung, and asked if the commission he once promised you as a thank you for helping with the show could be redeemed in the auction—and he agreed.

It's the hot ticket item, you think, although you are severely underestimating how much companies will pay for front-page advertisements in the city paper. They're often booked out well in advance, so for Namjoon to swoop in and reserve it off thanks to an unpaid invoice leaving a slot free next month? Oh, it's like Christmas come early.

And so you tell Jeongguk everything; how the ball started rolling, and how you've been unable to stop it. He listens, and doesn't say a word. Is conflicted.

"I know I should have told you what I was doing," you stress, eyes on the ceiling, just like his. "I just thought you'd tell me no—"

"I would have done."

" Exactly ," you say. "Like I wasn't trying to meddle, I just want you to have options, yanno? Money is the only obstacle. And I just—you've done so much for me. I wanted to return the favour."

"B, there's a favour, and then there's this ," he gently says. He's still holding your hand, so at least he's not mad. That's something.

"I know." Truthfully, you do. It's why you've been so torn up. You knew you should have told him earlier, but also knew he'd probably feel guilty accepting help like this. "I just saw how disappointed you were after the bank called, and like, the only thing standing between you and getting that restaurant going is money and—"

"But it was my call to make, B," he interrupts softly. "What happened with the bank was shitty, and yeah it really sucked for a while, but I would have figured it out. Like, what if I didn't even want to run a restaurant anymore?" You know he does. "What would I do with the money then? They'd start calling me a fraud, or some shit like that. Sue me, probably, for false advertisement. Run me into the ground before I even have a chance to get something going."

With a nod, you don't try and defend yourself. You know he's right—but you also know Jeongguk's achieving his dream regardless of his current difficulties. He's too determined not to achieve his goals.

Instead of trying to reason any of this, you offer an apology.

"I'm sorry," you promise. "Tae said something earlier that kinda made me realise I'd had tunnel vision with it all. I know it'll sound like bullshit, but I really was going to tell—"

"I hate that I didn't know," Jeongguk cuts you off. His interruption is stark. Leaves a cold tail of wind as it escapes his mouth. "I mean, I'm the only one, right?" He frowns, now. "Everyone else knew. They had to, if they're on the flyer. And I just wasn't told. By anyone."

"It's my fault," you say, quickly coming to the defence of his friends. You masterminded it, after all. "Gguk, I literally begged them to keep it quiet until I figured out how to tell you. It's on me. Yoongi said I should tell you. Jimin straight-up told me I was being dumb. The only reason they didn't tell you is 'cause of me. It was a bad judgment call on my part. I'm sorry."

Jeongguk could pretend like he cares about the secrecy.

He doesn't.

He understands why the secret was kept, and why it began. He doesn't see it, really, as deception or as a lie. Is familiar with the concept of surprises, and how they work. Trusts you not to ever lie about personal matters, but does find it a bit baffling nonetheless.

The thing that does upset him, though?

Being left out.

"Just feel stupid," he mumbles. Rubs his thumb against yours. Finds respite in it. "Everyone knew except for me. Feel like a charity case."

"I didn't even think of it like that," you quietly admit, turning to face him again—but he's avoiding your gaze. "Just wanted to fix things for you. Take the pressure off. I should have told you. I really am sorry I didn't."

Jeongguk purses his lips, and his lip ring flips ever so sweetly in the corner of his mouth. He's so handsome, even when he's pouty.

You both show affection and care through acts of service. It's nothing new. He understands the thought process and the good intentions that come with it.

With a sigh, he leverages the grip he has on your hand and pulls you a little. Encourages you onto his lap. It's a position you ease into without difficulty, knees either side of his waist, ankles by his hips as you straddle his body.

Jeongguk holds onto your thighs while your hands ball at the material of his shirt. Eye contact is shamefully avoided, until he sighs once more. "Look, I see what you're trying to do, B. And it's sweet, and I appreciate it. I really do. You just can't keep shit like this from me, okay? Not if it directly concerns me."

You nod, watching your own hands as he clasps them in his own.

"We're a team, right?" He gently says as he encourages your body to lay on top of his. Wraps his arms around you. Holds you close as you nod again into the crook of his neck. "You can be team captain all you like, baby—just don't keep me on the reserves bench. If there's a homerun to be had, I wanna be the one hitting it. Okay?"

"I really am sorry," you say again, 'cause you kind of feel like he's the one trying to make you feel better, which isn't the point of an apology at all.

Thing is, Jeongguk isn't annoyed. Really.

He's a little annoyed at himself for not thinking of the idea first, and a little sad he didn't get the chance to work on it with you—but he's honestly been feeling so stuck about the restaurant for weeks. Spent most of his first therapy session talking about how gutted he was over it all.

And so even though yes, you should have roped him in—or hell, even asked his permission—it kind of feels like you've thrown him a lifeline.

"I still wanna speak it over with Yoongi," Jeongguk tells you as he rubs his hands up and down your back. "Just get his opinion on things—and hey, there's no guarantee we'd actually make any money, right? From the auction?"

It feels different, now, thinking about the restaurant as if it's something that could come to fruition again. Raising the funds for a deposit on the building would alleviate one of the biggest financial burdens. Sure, there's no certainty he'd get approved for a mortgage, or if the bank would even still consider a loan for the refurbs and start-up costs, but it's better than going in empty-handed.

"Totally," you nod, thinking that Yoongi is probably the best person to discuss this all with. "And, actually, that's something else I need to speak to you about."

"Go on," Jeongguk purrs.

"Well, the goal is to raise capital without the need for investors," you say of your thought process behind the auction. "Get their money in exchange for goods or services—not for a stake in your business. Thing is—"

"All the rich twats we know are from Shilla Finances?" Jeongguk grimaces as he references Seokjin's workplace. Can always tell whenever one of those wankers is at Taehyung's show. They all wear Invictus, or 1 Million, as if Paco Rabanne is the scent master of class and wealth, and not just responsible for the cloud of air that hangs in a high school boys' locker room after gym lessons.

"Yeah," you grimace right back. "Chances are, they already know about the show—we always have a few in attendance. Tae's pretty popular with them. I'm pretty sure one of them mentioned some of his work being in one of their meeting rooms at the last show."

You say chances are, because you haven't sent out personal invites yet. That was one of today's tasks, but after speaking with Taehyung, you chose against it. Knew that he was right. That you did have to speak to Jeongguk before going through with it.

"They've got money," he assesses. More than him, by a long shot. Pool their resources, and fuck it—he really might be able to make enough for a deposit on the unit.

"They do," you nod, then begin to explain your theory.

It's not foolproof and there's no guarantee any of them would care particularly for the things on offer, but Taehyung's kind of dominating the local art circuit at the moment. There's a buzz around him that everyone wants to get in on. For flashy, wealth-obsessed wankers who love to keep up with the latest trends, an original commissioned piece from Taehyung would make them the talk of the office for at least a day or two.

"Get investors without getting investors," Jeongguk muses. The idea of being tied to your ex in even the smallest of ways makes him feel physically sick, but this a loophole he could grow to like. "Fuck it. Do it. Invite them. What have we got to lose?"

There's something intrinsic about the way Jeongguk groups you in together with him like this. Your burdens are his burdens; his battles, your battles. He really does view you as a team and intends to keep it that way.

"You sure?" You question, just to confirm it's what he actually wants.

He nods. Adjusts you slightly so that he can look into your eyes as he says, "I'm sure, babe—but if your ex is there, I'm taking you straight to that janitor's closet again."

The boyish charm to his smile makes your eyes roll, but his sentiments do get you a little flustered nonetheless.

"For a chat?" You tease, knowing perfectly well what he means.

Jeongguk just smiles. Plainly states, "No. For a fuck."

"You're so romantic."

"I am," he agrees, ignoring your sarcasm. Smirks as your hair pools around his face, nose nudging up against his. "Gonna fuck you so hard you can't walk straight, and then I'm gonna hold your hand all night to make up for it."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhmm," he purrs, pressing a fleeting kiss up to your lips. "Gonna introduce myself to everyone as your boyfriend. Oh, you know the curator? Yeah, she's my girlfriend. I'm her boyfriend. Gonna make sure everyone knows, B. I'll bet you that all those finance bros fancied the shit out of you when you were with your ex. Bet you they're hoping they can make a move on you now. Fat fuckin' chance. Over my dead body."

His tendency to get a little jealous has never been a secret, but you must admit you enjoy seeing it boil to the surface every now and again.

"You're so dumb," you giggle as he begins to press kisses down your throat.

Oh, the jealousy is potent . Has his tongue flicking against you; teeth nipping at your skin.

"Nah, you're just right," Jeongguk husks against your neck. "I am proud. My pride does get in the way. But when my girlfriend looks like you? Fucking hell, when my girlfriend is you? Jesus, B. Hard not to be proud."

"Stop," you smile, pulling back, knowing that you're both gonna take it too far. "You'll give me a big head."

"Then you really will look like a disco ball," he tells you with a straight face, but just can't help himself from letting a grin escape.

"Fuck off," you laugh, but he simply doesn't let you. Pulls you in for half a dozen teeny-tiny kisses, then decides they're not enough, and gives you half a dozen more. They're fleeting and they're fast, but they're all for you. You know it's only a matter of time until you'll be under his sheets instead of on top of them. "Wait, wait, wait—are we good?"

"Course we are," he says as you sit back up on his lap, and your assumptions about his state of desire are proven correct. "Just don't keep shit from me, okay?"

You nod. Know that the way you felt earlier when you listened to his voicemail was enough to scare you into never doing it again. "Promise."

"Then, yeah," he assures you, stroking your thighs, and looking at you with the softest eyes known to man. "We're good, B."

Amazing, what a little bit of open communication between you both can do.

Has you thinking maybe you should admit how terrified you were on the cab ride over—but then he's pulling you up with him, grabbing the pair of towels he keeps neatly folded on a shelf, dragging you to the bathroom.

He's already had one today, and so have you, but he doesn't care. Wants you naked. Wants to prove how 'good' you really are together. Wants to give you reasons to never keep shit from him again. Reward you for your honesty, as if you're a puppy in need of training—which is funny, 'cause when his hair gets all wet beneath the shower and his eyes are so delightfully wide, he's the one who looks like a puppy dog.

The way he leans into your touch as you shampoo his hair? Gets a little whiney when you scratch at his scalp? Oh, he's such a puppy dog. So cute, and cuddly, and—

"Oh, fucking hell," Jeongguk cuts off your train of thought when he turns to face you. Body covered in soapy bubbles that drip down your skin like honey, he's somehow surprised by how badly he wants you. As if he doesn't always want you.

He's never wanted to be shampoo before, but— fuck —he wants to be on you like that. Doesn't care to think about the physical logistics of it all. Just gets your back pressed to the wall, a hand on your waist while the other holds your throat. Forgets the pretty kisses he usually greets you with. Gets his tongue in your mouth, and your whines in his throat. It's messy, and it's feral, but fuck if it isn't just so indicative of how much you crave each other.

It goes beyond that, Jeongguk thinks. Not a want, but a need.

Even though you'd been playing it off like a joke earlier, he's highly aware of the fact you thought he might end things earlier. He never wants to give you that kind of complex. Wants you to know that a few words would never be enough to break what you have together.

So even though Jeongguk is like a puppy dog in how sweetly he adores you, he's also fierce in how defiantly he wants you.

Hair up and out of the stream of his shower, you didn't want to wash it twice in one day, which actually makes things a little easier for him. Means he won't have to wait out your conditioning time. Instead, he reaches across, and shuts off the shower.

Nudging his nose up against yours, he mumbles, "We don't have to, but I totally wouldn't be opposed if you wanted to fuck right now."

"Huh," you hum, letting one of your hands drop from his waist, to delicately trail around the base of his incredibly hard cock. "You wanna fuck? Hadn't noticed."

When he laughs, you feel the air escape his lungs and settle on your skin. It's something so innately human that reminds you Jeongguk is real; that he's yours, and that you'd be a fool to waste such opportunities.

"Said I'm not opposed," he corrects you. "Up to you. I can make you feel good, B, or we can get dressed and do crosswords like an old married couple."

"You've never done a crossword in your life," you guess, narrowing your eyes.

"And I don't really intend on starting now," he smirks.

"Well then you're in luck," you concede.

"You wanna fuck?"

"That rhymed," you say as he pulls back to grab the towels. He gives you yours first, wrapping you up before he reaches for his own. "Maybe you are good with words. Maybe you should do the crosswords, instead." He raises a brow as he shakes his towel through his hair, not caring for the fact he's stark bollock naked. "Jimin's still out, right?"

"Company dinner," Jeongguk says, as he finally begins to wrap his towel around his waist. "Probably won't get home till the early hours."

You nod. Accept this reality. Say, "Good."

And then Jeongguk is left to watch on in a state of disbelief as you rid yourself of his fluffy white towel and toss it his way before walking to the door. Turning to glance over at him as you push down the handle, you're amused by how endearing his surprise is.

"Well, are you coming, or what?" You tease.

Barely a foot out the door, and Jeongguk's wrapping his arms around you. Covering your modesty, while also letting his towel fall to the floor. You're giggling as his lips press wet kisses against your throat, the pair of you so adorable it would make anyone else sick.

"What if he snuck home, huh?" Jeongguk playfully husks against your skin. "Then what?"

"Then it would have been a nice surprise for him," you tease right back. "Give him something to think about when he—"

"Don't," Jeongguk almost fucking growls .

While this might have been true a year ago, Jimin would most likely feel incredibly awful seeing you in such a state of undress, now. Doesn't associate who you are now with the girl they all met at Dionysus way back when. His encounters with you weren't particularly unique, nor meaningful. He doesn't think of them.

Thinks of you now like an add-on of Jeongguk. Both annoying. Both people he's entirely comfortable around. Both improve his mood during bad hangovers. Both are responsible for many of those hangovers. You're a package deal, and he'll forever be grateful for Jeongguk not being weird about things, like he knows many people would have been.

In a similar fashion, Jeongguk doesn't think about it—except for rare occasions, for no better reason than to let himself lean into a little bit of toxicity.

"Don't what?" You feign innocence, but you recognise the look in his eye; a little wild and ever so dark, even if there are still stars in them. "It's not like he's never—"

"I don't care what he has done," Jeongguk cuts you off, and hooks his arm around your waist. Doesn't give a shit. Picks you up, and gets you over his shoulder. You yelp, as if it's not exactly what you were anticipating—but what does surprise you?

The direction he takes you in.

"Gguk—" You laugh, but he's having none of it. Those earlier thoughts of being bent over his knee are remedied as he spanks your ass to assert a little dominance.

"Don't give a fuck what he has done," Jeongguk repeats as he kicks open the door to a bedroom that doesn't belong to him. "'Cause we both know you never fuckin' came in here, did you? Huh? You ever orgasm in here?"

Part of you is in a state of shock. He cannot seriously be thinking about having his way with you in his housemate's room. Anywhere else? Fine. Sure. Have already been there, done that, got the t-shirt. But Jimin's room?!

That part of you is silenced by the keenness that comes with such a sordid act. Of all the times you've ever told yourself fucking Jeongguk is wrong, you know that this time, it really is.

It's a confusing paradox; he's your boyfriend. Fucking him is a-okay. But fucking him here ?! Oh, God, you're going to hell.

"Where's that smart mouth of yours gone, huh?" He smirks as he uses his spare hand to pull out Jimin's desk chair. You're lowered down from Jeongguk's shoulder, and he's pleased to see how wide your eyes are. Likes how needy you look. Steals a kiss. Husks, "Not so loud now, are you, baby?"

How you're even supposed to articulate a response to that when your heart is in your throat, you'll never know.

Jeongguk presses his tongue to the back of his front teeth. Breathes out a stifled laugh as he smirks. Shakes his head. Says, "Knees."

And— fuck —you don't know when you became this pathetic and feeble, but his display of dominance has really done something to you. There's no pushback. No defiance. Just compliance as you do as he says and get to your knees. Eyes on his, always.

"Wait here for me, baby," he says softly, stroking your cheek with his thumb. Is tender in how he's touching you, but the obscured light filtering in through Jimin's blinds makes him look so much more sinister than usual. You're surprised by how much you like it. "Don't move. Okay?"

You nod, Jeongguk's hand still gently cupping your cheek as his thumb traces your lip, then pushes into your mouth. The wet warmth of your tongue makes him fuckin' twitch. He wants you so fucking badly. Doesn't know why he's torturing himself.

When he leaves, you don't move a muscle. Just listen intently to try and work out what he's doing. You hear the manual lock of the front door go first, so even if Jimin does get home early, there's no way he's getting in. Part of you knows Jeongguk likes the risk factor of shit like this, so it's nice to know where his boundary lies. The pad of his footsteps grows quieter, so you can only assume he's in his room.

You sit on your knees, palms on your thighs. Your poise is well-maintained; a little feline in how you hold yourself. The one thing you do change is your hair. Fix it into a ponytail, instead. You know he likes having something to hold onto, and all you want is to give him the things he enjoys in life.

There's a coolness to the air in Jimin's room. Your nipples are hard, and you know there's a mess between your legs already—which only doubles with anticipation as you hear Jeongguk heading back in the direction of Jimin's room.

Unbeknownst to you both, the closing of Jeongguk's bedroom door creates a stir in the air. Wraps around the only bird left hanging—and then all very suddenly, Jeongguk's ceiling is empty, the final fear nestled in his sheets.

When he enters, unaware of what's just happened, he's so pleased to see you did as you were told… almost .

"It's different," he says of your hair, lifting the ponytail to run his palm down it. You're a little bit disappointed when he doesn't yank it, and kind of question your sanity when you realise what you wanted him to do. "Pretty."

He's pleased to see your cheeks apple as he compliments you, your smile a little shy. As he stands in front of you once more, you notice what he's carrying: the tie of his you're far too well acquainted with.

"Lift your hair up for me, baby," he says, and has to admit, the way you just comply to his every whim makes him so fucking twitchy. Wrapping the tie beneath your ponytail, he brings the ends to the top and ties a pretty (even if a little messy) bow. "Keep that safe for me, yeah? Gonna use it later."

You nod, 'cause what else are you gonna fuckin' do? Say no? Fuck that. You can't remember the last time Jeongguk made you feel this submissive. As much as you like switching up the roles, there's something about relinquishing power to him that really shatters your hard exterior. You wanna be vulnerable for him.

Sinking into the desk chair, you half think Jeongguk is vying for a blowjob—of which you desperately want to give. He notices your eyes, and the way your lips hungrily fold in on themselves as you look towards his cock. Smirks in satisfaction.

"Not yet, baby," he tells you. Holds out his hand to help you up, and uses the other to pull at the lever on the bottom of the chair, lowering it as much as he can. There are no armrests to the chair, making it perfect for what Jeongguk wants—and what he wants isn't so dissimilar from your earlier desires. "Told you not to move, didn't I?"

You stand in front of him, looking down at him in a somewhat odd shift to the dynamic—yet he's still entirely in control as his hands stroke up your figure. Warm and wide, you love his hands. Always have done. Always will.

Nodding, you give no verbal response. Don't feel like it's needed.

"But your hair changed, didn't it?"

There's a softness to his voice that makes everything about this so much more intense than an overtly masculine display of dominance would give. It's the way he holds power, in abundance, without raising his voice or scaring you, that makes your heart feel like it will beat out of your chest.

Again, you nod.

"Not very good at following orders, are you?"

This time, you shake your head.

Feels like there's not a single thought up in your brain right now. Everything has been pushed to the side to make way for the anticipation of what's to come.

Jeongguk's tattooed hand trails down you arm, then wraps around your wrist. Pulls you closer. Turns you slightly, until you're standing next to him, staring yourself out in the mirror. He glances across to it, meets your gaze, and says, "See. Told you so. Pretty."

You hide your smile well, you think. Watch your face in the mirror, and realise that it's impossible to hide how Jeongguk makes you feel, for it blooms over your entire being.

"Just 'cause you're pretty doesn't mean you can break the rules, though, B," he reprimands you, and encourages you to lean over his knees.

The chair's height isn't ideal, and you thank your lucky stars Danbi forces you to pole every other week so you at least have a little power in your legs to keep yourself supported.

Jeongguk wises up to the height issue pretty quickly—but he wants you looking in the mirror, so knows a little compromise has to be made. He supports your body with his forearm, holding you up across the front of your shoulders, his hand curling around your arm to keep you steady.

The sight in the mirror is sin; how Jeongguk is surveying your body, eyes trailing down the dip of your spine to the pert rounding of your ass. The strain on your legs means your brows are already a little furrowed, one of your hands resting on the edge of the seat for extra support, while the other grips onto the arm of his that's keeping you steady.

As his eyes rake down your body, his hands stroke. Grapple. Soothe. Get reacquainted with that ass of yours that he loves so much.

"What's the word?" He asks.

It's a simple phrase only ever uttered in moments of impiety. Lets you know whatever he's about to do goes beyond the realm of your usual encounters and it only serves to get your heart racing even faster.

The whiplash of your earlier upset, and current desperation just makes you so much more pliable for him. So agreeable. You'll do whatever he wants. Are his to use as he pleases—which is funny, because all he wants is to please you .

"Chess," you say, breath so shallow it's almost a whisper.

"Good girl," he says just as softly. He's teasing, and he damn well knows it. Is gentle in how he speaks to you, 'cause he knows he's about to be anything but gentle. "See, you do know how to behave, don't you?"

You nod—then find yourself gasping as the hand that had been softly stroking your skin cracks against it. The force makes your body jerk, but he steadies you just as quickly as he spanks you.

"Words, baby. Tell me."

You try again. Give a pathetic 'yes' , only to be sent reeling once more.

He has the audacity to laugh, and it just makes you fucking drip . The glisten of your pussy leaking onto your inner thighs gets exposed with every spank, and Jeongguk just can't help himself. Lets his middle finger swipe between your soaked folds, before sinking it into your entrance with zero resistance.

The way you moan is like a fucking symphony, he thinks. Mozart would have a field day with the noises you make. Vivaldi would name a season after you. He wishes he had his phone on him. Wants to record your sounds; your bated breaths, your soaked cunt, your desperate gasps, moans, whines—all of it.

Long, slow strokes; his middle finger pumping into you elicits the most pathetic noises from you, eyes fastened shut from how euphoric it feels. It's too bad. He wants to see them. Wants the intimacy that comes with it.

"Eyes open," he tells you.

You try, but it's just too good. You can't help but let your eyes roll back into the pleasure, lids closing as you succumb to the way he feels inside you. You hear the softness of a small laugh, but the words that follow are stern.

"Open, or I'll stop."

"You're so fuckin' mean," you whine, forcing your eyes open—and it really is a struggle, especially when he begins to increase his pace.

His middle finger continues to fuck itself into you, his speed building, the noise of it all so fucking lewd. Shivers run through your body, thanks to the loss of autonomy you always seem to have whenever he's inside you.

"Watch your language, or I'll stop," he threatens, but glances over to the mirror to meet your eyes. You're so headstrong, so stubborn, and yet for him? Oh, you're pathetic . He loves it. "And I can be meaner, baby. Trust me."

"Gguk—"

He pulls out from you quickly, delivering a sharp spank to your ass. The crack echoes into the room, your body jolting, a pathetic whimper mewling from your lips as he steadies you.

As quickly as he withdrew from you, he sinks his finger back into you. Gives you no fuckin' respite. Keeps his momentum up.

"Don't call me that," he husks. If you were to have any cognitive thoughts in this moment, you'd be a little confused. It isn't a name that usually has too much of an effect on him. You just don't realise that that's the issue; he wants you to address him by names only you can say. "Who am I? To you, who am I?"

"My— oh, fuck —you're my boyfriend," You whimper. Admitting it like this gets you feeling all kinds of fucked up. "Shit. Gguk— fuck ."

"Yeah, I am," he grits, a little aggressive in the way he's fingering you, but in such a way that makes you feel like a fire has been sparked inside you. All pleasure, no pain—until he reprimands you for your foul language again.

He pulls out. Spanks you. One cheek, then the next. Is quick in his succession, giving you next to no time to register the sensation, and then is plugging you again with his fingers.

Is gritting his teeth as he growls, "And I'm making you feel good, yeah?"

Clutching his arm so tightly you're gonna leave nail marks, you nod. Gasp. "So good."

His cock is so hard; his tip hot as it throbs, resting up against his lower abdomen. Is trapped between his body and yours, and with every movement he dictates out of you, he's also getting a little friction. Is all desperate and needy, in the way it leaks a pretty bead of precum from the slit, smearing on his skin. Yours, too.

He ignores it as best he can. Is only thinking about you.

"That's right," he says a little breathlessly, a little surprised by just how much he feels like he's out of control, despite having complete authority over you. "So watch your language, and don't call me what everyone else calls me. You've got privileges, baby. Use them."

And then it clicks.

You've got privileges, baby.

It's different to the usual teasing. He doesn't want you to stroke his ego. He wants you to hold his heart.

"I'm sorry," you breathlessly plead for forgiveness, as if he actually gives a shit about your sailor's tongue, and isn't just looking for an excuse to spank you. A second finger of his pushes into you, desperate to elicit more delicate moans. This time, you do watch your language. Do exactly what he wants of you. "Oh, God—" you almost feel like you're gonna cry. "—That's it, babe. God, that's it ."

Babe .

He might actually fuckin' nut from just hearing you call him that.

If he were to really be in control, he'd tell you off for such blatant blasphemy, or some shit like that—but he doesn't care, and can't think straight enough to pretend he does.

"So fuckin' hot," he mumbles instead, as his fingers keep up the pace that's gotten you all shaky for him.

You're really not supporting yourself anymore. It's his hold on you that's keeping you locked in position. Every couple of strokes, your legs shake just a little bit more, and your whines are so breathless he knows you're nearly there.

"Tell me how I make you feel," he husks, voice soft. "Tell me how close you are."

"Close," you whimper, because it's all you can manage. "So close, babe."

"Gonna cum all over my fingers, aren't you?"

"Gguk—" you gasp, mind numb, body burning. He doesn't reprimand you, this time. Keeps his pace. You try and muster an apology for disobeying him, but find it impossible. "Oh, fuck —"

"It's okay," he grits through clenched teeth. You manage to open your eyes for a moment, and just a single glance at his face—his knotted eyebrows, tense jaw, parted lips, damp hair, undeniable beauty—seals the deal. The shaking of your legs gets harder to handle. Knees weak, you really do sound like you might fuckin' cry. "Be a good girl for me, yeah? Cum for me."

It's a request, not a demand, but the pace at which he's fucking you with his fingers makes it impossible to refuse.

The sensation of pleasure that waves over you travels from the tips of your toes to the top of your head, sparking as it reaches its climax. Body tense as your muscles struggle to deal with the lightning that's cracking through your veins, you shudder for him. Don't have to fake a single thing.

Jeongguk's no stranger to what it's like to have you like this, but each and every time it happens he's stunned. Can't form a single cognitive thought, let alone a sentence that makes any sense. Just curses.

"Fuck," he exhales, a fucking laugh stifling in his throat as your orgasm soaks him. You didn't squirt like you sometimes do, but it doesn't matter when he makes you as wet as he does. His fingers and palm were already coated, but you're all over his thigh now as well as your own. "God, this pussy, B," he praises. "So fuckin' perfect."

You give an exhausted giggle, the laughter making your pussy get even tighter around his fingers. Body well and truly spent, it's a miracle you haven't actually fallen to the floor—but his grip on you is so protective, he'd never let that happen.

What he does do, is slowly pull his fingers from you, and stroke at the peachy pink marks left by his palm. "You okay?"

Nodding, eyes closed, you're all pliable for him. Limp and lethargic. Need a moment to recover before you can return the favour. There's a serenity to you, he thinks, as he watches you in the mirror.

Though he doesn't wanna break the moment, he also wants you in his sheets. You look so sleepy, and honestly there's nothing he'd love more than a lazy little fuck with you right now; like a pretty bow tied on top of a present just for him.

Easing you up, Jeongguk makes sure to keep you supported, moving you into a straddle position over his lap. Your ass is closer to his knees than his cock, and it's deliberate, 'cause he doesn't trust himself. Arms draping over his shoulders as his hands grip your waist, you let your foreheads meet, noses not quite nudging.

"Hey," he greets you with a soft whisper. Fixes the issue of your noses not nudging. Cranes his neck a little to get his stroking up against yours—but then pulls a little higher, so he can press a pretty little kiss to the tip of your nose.

"Hi," you reply, dreamy and dulcet in how wrecked you sound.

Nose nestling back against his, you let his lips press down into yours. In search of refuge, they're so pouty that it takes next to no effort.

You grant him the shelter he's seeking; give him a home between your lips as if you don't know you're silently stealing his soul in the process.

Pulling back, even though he really doesn't want to, Jeongguk gets to his feet, wrapping your body around him as he does so. Your arms are secure over his shoulders, legs around his waist.

Head nestled into the crook of his neck, he's reminded of his tie as your hair presses against his jaw. Had intended on using it way before you came undone but kinda got carried away. It's no huge loss. Will just use it later, he's sure.

With a smile, his arm holds you securely in place as he tucks the desk chair back in place.

"We leaving?" you ask, as if you really care.

"Want you in my bed," he simply says, without clarifying. Could be for sex, could be to sleep. Again, you don't really care. Just wanna be stuck to him like glue.

His job in Jimin's room is done. Just wanted to settle that little part of his brain that would sometimes taunt him about your time spent in there. Wanted to rewrite your memories, and is pretty certain he achieved his goal.

Careful as he carries you through the apartment, he knows he's definitely gonna get some negative karma points for what he just did. If Jimin ever found out, he'd probably skin him alive. It's boyish, how Jeongguk smirks to himself, and tightens his grip around your body, thinking to himself that it was worth it.

Setting you down on his bed, he doesn't notice the slight sound of crumpling paper—but you feel it. Chirp a little confusion, which has Jeongguk asking, "Wassup?"

Adjusting slightly, you reach behind yourself.

Jeongguk looks up, just to check on the birds—and that's when he realises.

Bird in your hand, you look up towards him with a loss of autonomy. Forget you have ownership over the birds, too. Don't even think to open it, or at least not until Jeongguk panics and snatches it from you without saying a word.

"Woah, woah, woah," you laugh, your fucked-out soul finally returning to your body. You reach for his hand, but he pulls it back. Doesn't let you take the bird. "Excuse me?!"

"No can do," he shakes his head. "It's wing's broken. You can't look at it. Not yet."

An odd thing for him to say, you think.

Very odd indeed, considering he strung it up after your first trip to Busan, and has had ample opportunity to make any amendments, if he wanted to. You don't know any of this, though.

"Why—"

"Just because!" He interrupts, but he's smiling, at least. Is also naked, and given the fact you're sitting at the end of his bed, he should really be more careful about how vulnerable he is right now. You could sack-tap him, if you really wanted. Forcefully regain access to the 'broken' bird.

Silence lingers between you both, the tilting of Jeongguk's head puppy-like compared to the feline narrowing of your eyes.

Chalk and cheese, you really are ever so different and yet intrinsically fated. Aligning stars and strings of fate are weak in comparison to whatever it is you have between the pair of you.

Glitter and gold, are you and Jeongguk. Cosmic and yet entirely of this earth. Exactly where you're meant to be. Feet on the ground; heads in the clouds.

"Let me see it," you implore, reaching out to pull him onto the bed with you. He complies to this, at least. Even though he's on top of you, he ignores the nakedness, and the almost guaranteed sex he was about to have. Can't think about that right now. "There's nothing to be scared of, remember? It's just me. Just us."

Jeongguk lets the angle of his head drop ever so slightly as he shakes it. There's almost a sense of shame that washes over him; as if there's nothing more embarrassing than the words scrawled onto his bird.

"You're never normally this nervous over birds, Gguk," you smile, reaching up to rake your fingers through his messy, still damp, hair. A smile tweaks at his lips as you do so, his eyes lifting to meet yours. You can't help but notice the glisten of his lip ring from your peripherals. Even now, it still makes your stomach flip. "Nothing you could ever write on those birds would change the way I feel about you. You know that, right?"

Jeongguk barely registers the fact he's speaking out loud when he says, "That's kinda the issue."

With a groan, and a pitiful laugh, he rolls off you. His back thumps against his bed, and just like that, you're a pair of stars looking up to the skies once more. It's as if you're both aware you're meant for more than this world.

But Jeongguk's spent years staring at the ceiling. Never realised it wasn't the plain white paint that was keeping his attention, but his inevitable pull to the galaxies above and beyond.

It takes a second for the realisation to sink in, but once it does, it's stark: there are no birds left on Jeongguk's ceiling.

"How is it an issue?" You laugh, finding his sudden shyness endearing. It's not entirely unlike him, but he's usually far more confident in himself when it comes to the birds. Just a natural consequence of working through so many of them together. "Unless it's a break up bird—but you told me there weren't any."

"And there aren't," he laughs right back, sighing once the joy settles into the atmosphere around him. "It's just…"

You wait for him to carry on, turning your head to look at him. There's a smile etched into his cheeks, eyes starry as they look up towards the nothingness above him—and when he turns to face you too, it's like a meteor shower is happening right before your very eyes.

Silent as he passes the bird to you, silent permission is granted. What's his, is now yours.

"Read the damn bird," he quietly implores you, tucking loose hairs behind your ear. He doesn't need to. Is just preening for the sake of it. Because he can. Because he wants to. Because he needs distraction.

It's kind of funny. His heart was all out of sync when he strung the bird up, but it's calm now. Almost as if it was waiting until the right time. It fell at this very point in time, because divine intervention can exist. When it comes to you and Jeongguk, it seems like it always has done.

A hundred and one crossed paths brought you to this point; placed you right here, right now.

Maybe if you had paid attention during mindless Tinder scrolls and actually replied to the rogue guy who had your favourite Wave to Earth song as his 'anthem', Jeon Jeongguk could have been a casual hookup instead.

If you'd have been the one working on the till instead of serving tables at the cafe you used to part time in, Jeongguk might have dropped his change when he was distracted by your glitter.

Perhaps if you'd have paid more attention to the kind strangers grabbing you their favourite vodka in the supermarket aisles, or the boys you kissed at parties during your reckless university years, you'd have never ended up in Dionysus that night. Or at least you would have, but Jeongguk wouldn't have been a stranger.

If he'd have attended an event with Namjoon two years ago instead of bailing for the chance to grab coffee with Hayun when she was in town, he might've seen you rolling your eyes at the pompous chatter of the city's wealthy. He'd have laughed. Might've struck up a conversation. Probably would have felt guilty afterwards, as if he was doing something wrong. Maybe it would have made him realise Hayun wasn't right for him a hell of a lot sooner.

See, you've been orbiting one another for a while now. Since the dawn of time, really. Your paths just took a little while to align. Now that they have, they'll stay on this path forevermore.

Astronomers have learned that skies are largely made up of binary star systems; two stars orbiting one another. Half of all stars in the sky, or so they say. Some are so close that they even share the same atmosphere.

Collisions of these orbiting stars are rare, and almost impossible to predict. TESS data from NASA predicted such a collision would occur in the constellation of Cygnus, only for the data to have been incorrect. No merge to be seen with the naked eye; no new Red Nova to fill the skies.

Jeongguk half thinks perhaps astronomers had predicted his orbit incorrectly, too; as if they'd aligned him with a meteor when he should have been with a star.

S'why he thinks it took him so long to wise up to his inevitable collision with you.

Now that things have been recalibrated, and the data checked, it seems ridiculous for him to have ever thought a meteor was the correct pairing.

A star is what he needed. What he found in you.

As your fingers hook beneath the paper, and a coy look is thrown his way, Jeongguk realises that none of it matters.

He could blame this on the stars, or the astronomers, or the powers above—but you and Jeongguk are the product of conscious choices. Bad decisions, and good ones, too. Some pretty fuckin' fantastic ones, if you ask him.

There's a speck of glitter on the paper as you unfold the bird. It seems to take hours, Jeongguk thinks - he just doesn't realise he's impatient for you to know what is written inside it.

You give him one final glance before you look down at the paper, drinking in those dark brown eyes that are glittering with the reflection of you, then let your eyes drop.

Part of Jeongguk wants to snatch the paper back, again.

To make a fuss and make a nuisance. To tell you that it was just a fear, and that he didn't really mean it.

But that's the thing.

He's not scared.

And he really did mean it.

Lips parted, there's an endearing confusion lacing your features. Though his handwriting isn't anything to write home about, it's perfectly eligible. He knows you've read his words.

Tell B I love her.

Eyes flicking up to meet his, all wide and without reservation, they're accented with sweetly furrowed brows that just confirm to him that what he had written remains inexorably true.

He is in love with you.

It's sort of charming, how delicately he bites down on his bottom lip, nerves taking hold of his face.

So pretty, is Jeongguk whenever he's unsure of himself. He's strong far more often; confident in a way you don't think you'll ever truly master, but there's something about how dainty he becomes with vulnerability that makes your heart swell.

And God, you don't think your heart could swell any more. If you're not careful, it'll burst, and out will pour liquid gold; origami birds swimming in the essence that makes you live.

It takes you a moment to gather any words, so scared of saying the wrong thing.

"Do you?" You eventually manage to ask; not because you don't believe his words, but because you can't help but second guess.

Are so scared of looking foolish, that even though you know it's not some kind of sick joke, you just want to be sure that he's sure. That the way he felt when he strung that bird up is how he feels now. That the bird was strung up with intention .

There's a timidness to your voice, and that scares him . "Do you want me to?"

Part of you wants to laugh. It's such a cop-out. Can't answer a question with a question.

But you also can't let him doubt himself. Not now. He's given you the moon, and it's time you give him a little something in return.

"Yeah," you say quietly. A shy smile cracks on his pouted lips. "Yeah, I want you to."

And so it comes naturally when Jeongguk matches your tone, and shyly admits, "I do."

He breathes out a laugh, as if he can't believe he's just said it, then realises he hasn't said anything. Not really. He's not verbalised it, and so—

"Love you, I mean," he corrects himself. "Like, I— Well, I mean— Fuck. I just love you. Like, I really fucking love you, B."

"You love me."

"I love you."

"You love me," you say, giggling now.

Oh, it's all so sickening. Disgustingly sweet. Adorable, how your soft hands clutch his sharp jaw, pretty kisses being gifted to his lips.

"You know I do," he mumbles into your lips. "God, you know I do."

"Say it again."

"I love you."

"Again."

"I love you—now are you gonna say it back, or are you gonna keep laughing at me?"

"Not at you, Gguk," you grin. " With you."

"If you could hurry up and make grand declarations with me instead, it'd be much appreciated."

"Why?" You beam. "You think I don't?"

"Well, you've never told me you do."

"Hold that thought—" you clamber off of him and hurry to his desk. Pull open the drawer, with zero questioning from Jeongguk, 'cause what does he have to hide? You know him better than he knows himself. There's no part of him, not even secrets hidden at the back of his drawers, that he wouldn't share with you.

Taking a moment to pause, you reach up, loosen the tie around your hair, and toss it back to him.

"Eyes," you instruct. "Cover them."

Reaching to grab the silky material, Jeongguk just does as he's fuckin' told. After being so dominant with you earlier, he takes solace in letting you lead. Is so pretty, when you glance back, eyes covered, nose dewy, lips pink and perfectly aligned. Gorgeous.

Rummaging for a second, you pull out a fresh sheet of origami paper, and reach across to steal a pen from his pot. It's a black biro, nothing special, but the worlds you scrawl onto the paper? Oh, they're etched from stardust.

Turning to face him, as you fold up your very own bird, you climb back onto his bed, right where you left him. Straddled over his waist, you let the bird drop from your palms onto his chest.

"Oh no," you feign distress, carefully pulling down the tie to ensure it doesn't catch on his lip ring before it rests at the base of his throat. Nod towards his chest where the bird sits. "It fell."

Jeongguk can't hide his smile as he reaches for it. Holds it up to get a good look at it.

"Long lost brother of Perry," he assesses, still amazed at how uneven your folding can be. "Takes after his mother."

"Should read it," you say. "Then you'll know it really takes after its mother."

Of course it does. Is full of adoration for him.

A little hesitation prolongs Jeongguk's opening of the bird. It's like the build of a rollercoaster, and he's trying to ride the high before the drop. He keeps his eyes on yours as he unfolds it. Doesn't look down to read it.

Just looks at you.

Says, "I should have told you sooner."

The smile already on your face blooms a little wider. You just shake your head. Think he timed it just right—or that the birds did.

"Fell when it was supposed to," you promise.

And you're right. Even the birds you thought were too bold, or extreme at the start fell when they were meant to. After all, they lead you here.

Glancing down to your bird, Jeongguk inhales a sharp breath. Knocks his head to the side, hair ruffling against the pillow. His smile grows. Grows and grows and grows. Dimples make themselves at home, and stars litter his eyes.

The words are clear as day; biro on paper, ink on skin, stars in eyes.

I love you.

Looking back up at you, he cheekily asks, "Do you?"

With a roll of your eyes and a smile that Jeongguk thinks is so pretty he should learn how to write poetry, you sink into an all too familiar position with him.

The way your bodies move together is intrinsic; like trained dancers who have been rehearsing their steps for years. When you lead, he follows, much like he is now as your nose nudges up against his. Lips close enough to brush, you giggle. Almost pull back, because you feel all bashful and shy, but know that you can't. Not now.

"Of course I do," you whisper. It's so dumb that he even has to ask, but neither of you have been entirely foreboding about your true feelings. Always kept them squirreled away. Safe. Free from the prying eyes of those who wouldn't understand.

That's the thing though; astronomy is complicated, and tricky, and well above your pay grade, but everyone can see the stars. Everyone loves them regardless. They look to them. Wish upon them. Put faith in the way they move, even if the science makes no sense to them.

The same could be said for the pair of you; Galileo and his Saturn.

"Say it," he teases, lips brushing against yours.

"Say please," you tease right back.

"Not gonna beg you to love me."

"Hmm," you hum a noise of contemplation. Even though he's joking, you realise that there could be a little honesty behind the jibe. "You're a tough bargainer."

"And you love it," he says, because he needs to hear you say it.

There's really no need to play coy. Not now.

So you don't. Just nod. "And I love it."

"And you love me," he chances.

"And I love you."

The way Jeongguk kisses you now goes beyond just a simple meeting of lips. All-encompassing, he cares not for breathing, nor for the fact you're separate human beings. Your lips, your tongue, your moans, he wants it all. Needs it.

And you need him.

"Fuck me," you mumble into his mouth. "Please."

"Yeah?" He asks as if you're not already adjusting, amorous in the way you refuse to part.

Nodding into the kiss, you line yourself up with him. "Yeah."

The first push is slow; a welcome intrusion. You're still a little tender, and he doesn't personally care to be rough with you. Just wants to be with you. To fill you. To be as close as he can, as he mumbles candid declarations into your ear.

You beat him to it, though, as you sink down onto his incredibly hard cock.

"Fuck," you moan, all breathless and feeble despite no real action taking place. Clutching at his jaw, you rest your forehead against his. Swallow back another moan. Swear, through stifled breaths, "I love you."

He laughs. Oh God, he laughs, and you think he's never sounded more beautiful.

"Don't say shit like that," he smiles. Is breathless, too, when he laughs. "I'll die."

And die he does, not even five minutes later, in a mess of slow thrusts and deep confessions that he never thought would see the light of day. With their freedom comes his liberation; the knowledge that he can love and be loved in return. That it's reciprocal.

The way he comes undone for you is celestial; pretty whimpers and kisses that blossom and fall like cherry trees in the spring. Heaven on earth, even when committing acts that'd land you a permanent prison in hell. He'd take it, if it meant he got eternity with you.

That's the thing about love. There are no limits. He'll follow it to the edge of earth; the end of time. You'll encourage him on the chase, not because you're running from him, but because the idea of ever stopping fills you with dread. If eternity is an option, you want it. Want it with him.

Hips jerking beneath you, his back arching ever so slightly as his shoulders press into his duvet, Jeongguk is heaven-sent. There's a shudder to his chest. A haze to his dark eyes; stars sparking with every jolt of his muscles. Neck thick as he strains, the vein that runs up the side of his throat is begging for kisses.

Nodding, you encourage him.

"Please," you mewl, grinding your hips for him. There's a serenity to your skin; dewy and warm, just how he likes you. Cheeks pink, lips even pinker, he wishes he could preserve this moment forevermore, but has no idea where the fuck his phone is. Has to revel in it instead. Pay attention to every single one of his senses just so that he can recall it in his memories for years to come. But then you speak, and he can't compute fuckin' anything. "Cum for me, babe. Show me how much you love me."

He pulls you back down, not to kiss you, but simply hug you as his hips thrash up into you. Something about the way you call him babe just makes him feel so adored. Precious. Pink. Arms strong around your back, he presses kisses against the curve of your neck. Promises, "Oh, God, I love you."

He repeats it like an oath. A sacred prayer. Again and again, until he can't take it any longer. Asks where you want him to finish, and doesn't get a verbalised answer. Just gets your lips on his, whines in each other's mouths. Tongues, too. Teeth clashing, and absolutely no fucks given. It's frankly a mess, but fuck if it isn't the most at-one with another person he's ever felt. Just makes it so easy to unload himself into you; to fill you with everything that he is.

Hand gripping at the base of your ponytail, he pulls you back. Wants to look at you as the final ropes of his cum escape his body and find a home in yours. Eyes hazy and a little fucked-out, desperately trying not to get distracted by the glitter sparkling on your skin, he nods to let you know he's done.

Repeats, once more, "I fuckin' love you."

And then you're bashful. Giggling, as if he's just said the most sordid thing in the world. He winces a little from the pressure around his sensitive cock, but doesn't pull out. In fact, he keeps his hands firmly on your hips, keeping you in place.

Leaning down to deliver an incredibly sweet kiss, one that he'll want to lick from his lips forever, you whisper, "Good. I am your girlfriend. Would be super awkward if you didn't love me."

He rolls his eyes. Shakes his head. Laughs, now too, then taps your thigh to encourage you off of him, but doesn't let you get too far away. Pulls you in for a hug as soon as you're beside him.

"This shit'll never get old," he says, as he toys with your hand, lacing your fingers together with his. "God, why did it take us so long?"

It's a good question. One that you could theorise answers for—but you're sleepy, and you need to shower again.

"Stupid," is all you reply, pulling away and grabbing a fresh pair of Jeongguk's boxers to slip on just for a little dignity before you walk to the bathroom. He did finish inside you, after all. Is never the neatest of situations. Turning as you reach the doorframe, you're so incredibly enamoured with the way his eyes have followed you, chin pressed to his chest, face a little round from the angle. He's so cute it's hard to remember quite how domineering he had been earlier. "You coming with?"

"Shower?" He asks, to which you nod. "Go start it up. I'll sort the sheets, then join you."

"Want a hand? With the sheets?"

Shaking his head as he gets to his feet, he shoos you off. "I'll be, like, three minutes."

And because you're pathetic and hopelessly in love with the man in front of you, you say, "I'll miss you."

"Gross," he replies with a smirk. "Almost like you love me, or something."

"Nah," you shrug, matching his playful energy. "We're just friends."

"My cum is literally inside you right now."

"Okay, fine ," you exaggerate. " Best friends."

"Get the fuck outta here with that best friends shit," he laughs, as he sets about stripping the bed. "Go. I'll join you."

Eyes trained on you as you walk away, Jeongguk bites down on his bottom lip. Shakes his head. Hates how much of a softie he's being, but just can't help himself.

"Hey, B?" He calls after you.

"What?" You yell back from the bathroom, door ajar to make things easier for him. Expecting some dumb remark, you're grinning from ear to ear because of how easy all this is.

Things are finally falling into place.

As his voice echoes through the apartment, it seems like they're falling right where they were always supposed to.

"Love you."

[preg-canis-limus]

Someone teach me how to make babies, I'm a kinesthetic learner btw