#cause it's a museum. And most of them are historical figures or made up ones from particular time periods. cough. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alluringjae · 4 years ago

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until dawn; pt. II - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 12.2k

⤑ genre: ANGST, fluff, romance, smut (f receiving, dom!jeno waow, dirty talk, wrap it everyone) | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, enemies to lovers!au, college!au, night at the museum-inspired!au

⤑ warnings: references to actual historical figures, explicit language, graphic details, major heartbreak caused by another party, expect time jumps too

⤑ author’s note: happy jeno day!! i’ve been so excited to post this part, and i’m happy we’re here!! perhaps, this is the last long fic i’ll write for a while so i can rest, but i’ll still be posting short stories within the weeks to come! i’m excited for may to say the least hehe

btw, for the smut scene (indicated with **), i highly recommend you listen to strange (feat. hillary smith) by kris bowers!! this song is from the bridgerton soundtrack, and oh man, the feels!!

with that, enjoy!

italicized text either means they are personal notes or flashbacks.

this was meant to be more angsty, but either way, i screamed every time i wrote something gut-wrenching.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome

⤑ ctto above!!

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism, or hellos!

“You ready to get your butt beaten by me, Lee?”

“Prepare your final words when I win instead, (Y/L/N).”

Mischievous banter exchanged between you two became a new norm. Almost every night, someone within the art pieces established a contest over anything and it released the competitive sides of you two. So far, Jeno has been winning. Not like it hurt your pride, but maybe just once, you could conquer one game to feel better. Not only that, there’s a mini penalty for the loser. So far, you’ve cleaned up the lobby yourself and acted cutely to everyone the entire evening (or aegyo as Jeno called it).

Tonight, a game of archery was held by the Greek gods. They pushed away any extra pieces away, leaving the whole room vacant with two boards right beside Zeus’ throne. Numerous arrows were produced and sharpened, Zeus in the center announced to everyone participating.

“It’ll be 1 on 1 games. First to go are Jeno vs (Y/N), followed by Athena vs. Hermes, Cleopatra vs. Freddie, and last would be Hades vs Aphrodite.”

Cutting the chase, you didn’t expect Jeno to be that good at archery. Sure, he told you that he took classes with his friends for fun when he was younger, though it showed that he’s a fast learner and even hit one bullseye in the middle of the game.

Not slightly threatened until the last rounds, you fixed your aim and lessened your overthinking when preparing to shoot. Thus, you scored 2 bullseyes shot. It was a close fight, having the audience on the edge on their feet again because it’s the two of you. Your dynamic with the night guard always elevated the mood, shifting their bets over and over again.

By 1 point, you received your first victory against Jeno. Unlike you, he showcased his sportsmanship sweetly without any comments of disbelief. He’s never bragged about anything big in his life, not unless it’s a high grade for his plate. Normally, he celebrated wins in a laid-back manner. But don’t be fooled: he loves giving penalties.

“This is why I don’t make bets with my friends because I really go for their weak spots.”

“You’re cynical, Lee Jeno.”

“Only if you’re close to me, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Aren’t we already past that stage?”

Almost halfway through his job, he sustained a meaningful friendship with you. Out of everyone, you were his default person to hang out within the nights he had a shift. If he wasn’t present, he made sure to give you small treats or gifts as much as possible. An innocent friendship, it was that the world would’ve never believed in.

Or was it?

“To celebrate your win, what do you want me to do?”

“You’re too kind for me to play around with, even if you’re the complete opposite of me.”

“I’ll make it simple and worthwhile since I don’t know when I’ll win a game again.” As your finger tapped your temple as you pondered deeply, a smart idea came through. “Grant me 3 wishes.”

He chuckled, lowering himself to view you better. “Am I like some genie now to you?”

“No room to complain, I won, didn’t I?” You grinned, raising one brow to show your dominance.

“You’re petty in your own way, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps. Now come on, I want to use my first wish.” You shrugged it off like no big deal, loving the high feeling of triumph. You lead him to the center of the lobby, where a beautiful grand piano only selected people get to play during exhibits. “Open the museum piano.”

Ever since you were brought to life, you never used it. Tempting but because people from the outside might here, maybe it’s time to try something new. A new challenge, and besides, you missed entertaining people through it. The last time you touched the delicate piano keys was to your family before you ran away.

It’s a good thing that in the shackle of keys Jeno held, the needed key was there. Unlocking the lustrous black instrument, you sat by the matching black bench. Crackling your fingers, you tested by pressing a few keys to get the hang of it again.

“What are you planning to play, (Y/N)?” Jeno leaned against the side, his arms crossed.

Humming the first notes of your piece, the nostalgia ran through your veins. “Nocturne No. 2 in E flat by Chopin.”

Your fingers took off and played each chord slowly and calmly. This piece reminded you the most of your mother, who sat by the couch in front of your old piano with your father while guests from the party they hosted crowded around you. Being the youngest, they often requested you to perform as entertainment so you always put your best foot forward. Or so you tried.

Nevertheless, no one else in your family was capable to play this piece as perfectly as you. By the way your eyes closed and your body swayed to the mellow tune, Jeno observed how you memorized this piece by heart. A passionate flame you were, outshining every pianist out there.

He wasn’t surprised at how multi-talented you were, though there’s a different kind of aura you present when you played the instrument. From your hard and tough front, you could be soft and sweet to the right people.

In a way, you showed your comfort toward the boy by serenading him with the piano. Sketching him with him in the past was one thing, but this was another. You’d sketch with people you’ve grown used to, but you play piano to people you want to cherish in your life. As dangerous as it seems, Jeno was someone special to you, only wanting to have good moments with him.

Junmyeon will always have a huge part in your museum life, but Jeno filled the emptiness that he left behind. This loneliness for a human friend vanquished thanks to Jeno, and you didn’t want to jeopardize it at all. Sure, whenever he acted like a gentleman around you, let you inside the Foreign Art Room, or brought you food sometimes, you couldn’t help feel honored.

Though lately, every time he showed off his strength when he defeated Zeus and Hades during an arm wrestle game the god held again. You seriously had to catch a breath at every flex his arms made, like the goddesses. Maybe how he pushed his black hair back when he’s drawing another plate, you’d give yourself a few extra seconds to see his long fingers skim through them. He’d bit his lower lip when he’s in too deep with his creativity, wondering if he’d bite the lower lip of the girl he’d ki-

All right, (Y/N), relax. Maybe you’re thinking this way because it’s been decades since your last relationship. You wouldn’t want to fall for another possible trap and hurt yourself again, right?

Ever since this job, Jeno’s university life drastically changed. Yes, he still hung out with his friends and performed extremely well in his classes, though he prioritized anything related to the museum wherever he was. If they were drinking out, he’d buy an extra bottle of soju for you on his way back to the dorm. Rarely does he get shitfaced anyways.

If he and Renjun visited the bookstore to purchase pens or any art-related materials, he always bought either an extra sketchpad or set of pens. Even if you were simply a figure to everyone else, he appreciated the bond you both developed.

Every night, he’d tell you about his day from the start. Normally, it consisted of a lot of schoolwork and coffee, some stories about his roommates too. Speaking of them, he’d insert a lot of humorous words about his entire group of friends, whom you learned their names too.

Mark, Jaemin, Renjun, Jisung, Chenle, and Donghyuck, each of them presented a different color in their group. Jeno, who’d admitted to being shy and quiet, grew out of his shell because of them. A friend of Jeno’s would automatically be a friend of yours, if only you were allowed to leave the museum or become a human.

Jeno learned more about your past explorations that never got documented because you no longer had an interest in jotting them down. They were adventures you’d kept to yourself, memories only close to you then would know. Except now, Jeno was another addition. You’re not the type to instantly open to people, though again, a sense of relief surrounded him every time you encounter each other. It grew gradually like a warm hug, softening your heart and breaking your walls.

The more he spent time with you, nothing feared Jeno the slightest. He’s always maintained himself intact, avoiding lines to be crossed and giving respect to those who deserve it. However, he began to question himself where exactly his feelings lie with you after Jaemin tried to set him up on a blind double date just so the best friend of his date wouldn’t feel left out.

He’s rarely one to get crushes on people, even when other girls in his college openly showed their affection towards him. Valentine’s Day or his birthday, several girls sent him chocolate or flowers. Jaemin and Renjun got sick of girls reaching out to them first so they could reach him. It’s not because he’s not the dating type, but because he’s so goal-oriented that unlike his roommates, he doesn’t have a slight clue about dating.

Though one-night stands while at a party and dating were completely different, he’d still say he had experience with girls. Plus having an older sister, he never took advantage of them. He’d rather tell them in person that the feelings weren’t mutual than ghosting them. He’s not like Jaemin anyways.

With that, he’s so lost when his heart beats twice as fast the second you’ve woken up from your posing slumber. He doesn’t comprehend how flustered he’d be when you highly insist to help him with his plate or how cute he finds it when you’re playing fetch with Mochi. On top of it, when you chose to sketch each other for one of your sketching sessions, he’d take a longer stare at your visage before he drew some strokes.

A lot of historical accounts mentioned how your beauty was the standard of the Victorian era, wherein you were the jewel of your neighborhood and numerous men wanted your hand. Women envied you, especially having high intelligence skills that were equivalent to a man. That time, that felt like a threat to most men. Though surprisingly, it turns out there were men who liked intelligent girls.

Jeno knew he liked you as a friend, though liking you past that he didn’t intend. Nor was it allowed because it’ll break one of the golden rules. Before he’d go beyond contemplating, he had to stop himself. This was so unlike him. The feelings will fleet away, he’d repeat to himself. Don’t waste a great friendship because of your silly emotions.

Individually, both of you swallowed these harboring feelings down your guts and simply kept your friendship status safe. Doing your typical activities or whatever else you could think of, none of you minded to change it whatsoever.

Unknown to you though, it was obvious to the other art pieces ones that you two practically passed off as young lovers. Although they know that pushing one towards the other went against the rules, Aphrodite begged to differ.

“Holding them back from expressing what they really feel just because of the law here is a tragedy. They should at least try, you know?”

On another typical night, Jeno invited you to the Theater Room for a movie marathon. After finding out that you’ve never seen any moving pictures, he wanted to be there to introduce it. Luck was on his side to not have plates or requirements due for the week and everyone was behaving themselves, so he started with rolling out short films from the 88mm projector. Having premade popcorn and drinks, the two of you shared roars of laughter and emotional tears.

Switching to the cd player for longer and clearer films, you’d opt to believe that you were born at the wrong time. With all these advancements, it came with a lot of new beliefs. One of them was allowing women to study and work. Then again, she was a pioneer according to historians. Without her, it wouldn’t help shape society as it is today.

Nonetheless, this movie Jeno played on the big screen was what he defined as “one of the classics”, 10 Things I Hate About You.

This outspoken character named Kat was presenting a poem to her class, trying to hold in her raw emotions towards Patrick, the boy who broke her heart. Too engaged, you didn’t notice how Jeno stretched his arms out so he could wrap one around your shoulder. Not that you were complaining, his warmth reassuring you safety.

“I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme. I hate it, I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie.” The way she attempted to keep her strong ground only reminded you of where you were weeks ago, especially once she excruciatingly broke down.

“I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.” Only when you leaned back to the chair, you felt his arm. His thumb caressing your covered shoulder, you peeked him a little bit. His eyes fixated on the screen, absorbed in the acting and how Kat’s tears weren’t scripted as she stormed out of the classroom.

Not that you were her, but it sparked the past memory of how you merely disliked him because of his job. But as a person, not even close, not even once did you hate him. How blessed that he never judged you for it, staying patient all this time.

Right before he could look back at you, you moved your face back to resume your watching. Jeno definitely noticed what you did, though not sure as to why. Whatever it was, it wasn’t harmful.

Once the film ended, Jeno checked his watch for the time. 4 am, he wanted to do something else now instead of film viewing. You were on par with it, wanting to walk it out after being seated for hours. As you both cleaned up and bid the posters outside goodbye, the doors to the museum were locked unexpectedly. Impossible on Jeno’s half because he had the keys for every room, but he double-checked his bunch.

Alas, the keys for these doors specifically were missing. But there was no other way anyone could’ve gotten it, plus it’s not like the last person he talked to, which was Aphrodite, would need it.

Or did she?

Rather than putting any blame on each other, your only wish now was to return to your section before sunrise. You and he could just relax momentarily before yelling for help.

“Maybe we should watch another film first?”

“Alright, you choose while I return the rest.”

As Jeno inserted the cd of Cinema Paradiso inside, the background music of the opening played. He hummed the first notes, already feeling the love from this film. Another must-see classic as recommended by Renjun, he wanted to rewatch it with you.

Slowly returning each cd and film roll to their respective drawers, the melodious theme had you waltzing in the small space. Even beyond your life, classical music never gets old. Aging like fine wine, sounding spectacular as time passes because of people’s creativity.

Jeno gazed over your sudden movements, smiling uncontrollably at how immersed you were as you multi-tasked. However, you took a wrong turn by the desk and almost dropped a priceless film roll. But before you fully slipped and fell, a pair of strong arms caught you at the right time. Panting from the nerves, mostly when he was inches from your face. Never has he pressed his body this close to you to protect you, and never have you seen his captivating eyes this up close.

As enchanting as the background music of Ennio Morricone was, it only became noise once Jeno took ahold of the film roll on your hand and placing down on the desk. Taking another step closer, you were backed up by the edge. Not to mention how his height dignified his impact on you, your arms were still situated by your side with nowhere else to go.

That was until his finger elevated your chin so he could meet you on eye-to-eye level. His other hand gripping your waist, you became brave enough to place your hands by his broad shoulders. Licking your lips, you glanced at his lips quickly. But he noticed it, and as risky as this was, it was a leap of faith to take.

“May I kiss you?”

Always such a gentleman, even when he already knew how much you desired him through your returning affections. Calming your breath patterns by the speed of everything occurring, you came back to your senses. He’s the one who constantly told you not to forget your roots, so you were going to take this one.

You trust him, and he does too.

“Yes.”

Since the first film, some kind of tension increased the closer he moved or intimate his actions were towards you. You kept pushing it back in hopes not to ruin what you both have. But it only turned out to be mutual, especially how none of you held back as soon as his lips passionately clashed yours.

Tangling your arms around his neck, you stood on your tiptoes to press even closer to him. Feeling his lively heart pumping against your hollow chest, you bit his lower lip. Something you’ve secretly craved to do, he growled from the pleasure. He hoisted your waist to the desk, his impatient hands earnestly traveling all over your body. While your legs locked around his torso, your feisty nature leaned back so your entire body lied on the small desk.

Jeno was on top, placing one hand down to hold himself while the other squeezed your waist firmly. Even if you’re made of wax, you’re like an actual living woman at night. Everything about you becomes real until dawn. You emitted vulgar moans, giving him more access to your neck. Peppering a mix of soft to hard kisses, your hand teasingly snaked under his shirt. He really wasn’t joking when he bragged that he was quite ripped since he enjoyed sports and going to the gym, cupping a part of his toned abdomen.

“If you want something, all you have to do is ask.” He sluggishly sucked the area between your ear and neck, one of your weakest spots. “What’s on your mind, baby?”

The growing moistness in between your legs left a stain in your panties, trying to close your legs out of embarrassment. It’s been decades since you’ve been stimulated like this. However, Jeno beat you to it as he trailed the hand that was on your waist and lowering it right above your covered sex. He cupped it agonizingly slow, making you folding your leg from the pleasure. For a man who doesn’t date around, he knew exactly what he’s doing.

“I just kissed you, and you’re already this soaked. Can you handle me, baby?”

As the strong woman that you present yourself to be, it would selfishly take the right touch from the right man to weaken you. With his savage lips back on yours while your hands clutched on his shirt, he was simply waiting for a verbal answer, yet driving you completely mad. Everything was happening so fast, and here he was to please you in anywhere you seem fit.

You were deprived, and oh, you needed it more than ever.

However, seconds before you replied, there was loud rumbling from the main doors which stopped your devilish antics. As Jeno moved back from you to see the ruckus, you lifted yourself back up, pulling back your dress sleeves and flattening out the creases. The last thing you wanted was a trail of familiar red marks from the aggressive male, finding any reflective surfaces to check.

“I wouldn’t be that dumb to leave you hickies now, would I?” Jeno ended your worries as he placed his hands by your side again. His face leaned towards yours again, reliving the warmth in your cheeks. His lips were plumper, catching traces of your coral lipstick smudged there down to his jaw. He slotted himself again between your legs, grazing a hand on your waist and the other to your warm cheek. “The door’s unlocked now, and it’s 5 am. Do you want to clean up now?”

You playfully scoffed, aware that neither of you had plans to do that yet. Such a player while in the heat of the moment.

“Spare me 15 more minutes with you first.”

Hiding the romance you’ve both built failed without trying. Aphrodite spotted all the signs from your open physical affection and words of admiration, calling you two out in front of everyone without shame. She is the goddess of love, after all. You couldn’t fool her even if you tried.

Plus, she’s the one who locked the two of you up in the Theater Room that night. But neither of you know that.

“Sketch my ideal home?” Jeno bent down to the table, testing out his newly bought pens so they wouldn’t spill.

“Isn’t that why you decided to pursue Architecture in the first place? Come on now!” You pestered across him, opening your new sketchpad since your last one ran out of pages. As expected, Jeno bought you one when he went to the bookstore. As much as you insisted not to because he should use the money somewhere else, he did it anyway. He loved your works, encouraging you in any way he could.

When he was reminded of his humble beginnings of his passion for architecture by you, never had he envisioned exactly how his perfect home would be like. Settling down was so far beyond his mind, only focusing to graduate university then study for the licensure exams. However, he did miss drawing something for fun, not as a requirement. He also was the one who took charge of designing his dorm.

“Fine, only if you draw what your ideal home would’ve been if you never left London.”

Now as lovers, the only addition to your relationship were the public and private exchanges of affection. Deep conversations, film viewing, back and forth banter, you’re both still the same competitive duo everyone expected to be together. In public, the two of you held hands, hugged, kissed each other cheeks too when it felt right. Cleopatra’s face of fake nausea was priceless every time, while Princess Diana, Anne, and Katherine enjoyed it. It’s been years since they’ve seen this glow of adoration in you. Bit by bit, you’re going back to the old you. Except now, you’re a lot stronger.

Perhaps, this version of you proved wrong for the need for romance. Even if you made the choice not to settle down then, it would’ve been different if Jeno was in your universe then.

“Are you done there?” Jeno asked while you were finishing up your masterpiece. Life in London sounded fun when you were younger, having all these ideas on interior design and the like. An innocent time.

Instead of replying, you strode to his side and compared your pieces together. He pictured a two-story home, with a backyard and rooftop area. He definitely wanted to stay in the city as his whole life was based there. Although you preferred living in the countryside more for more freedom, you gave it a shot by pinpointing every detail of a wealthy typical Victorian-era home you liked. You desired a spacious lobby with a grand staircase in the middle, a crystal chandelier there too. The living room would have a small library and a grand piano, where wide doors leading to the grasslands were beside it.

Considering you two lived from different times, in a way your ideal homes were similar. Somewhere private, surrounded by nature and minimal furniture, you’re curious as to how it would look if the two of you fused them together. A mix of old and new, will it look pretty?

“What will look pretty?” Jeno questioned your random thought, looking back and forth at your sketches. “You know who’s pretty though?”

“If you say what I think you’re going to say, I’m lea-”

“You.”

Jeno has gotten flirtier since that night, always finding the right opportunity to flatter you. Although you denied them out of embarrassment, the butterflies in your stomach can’t lie to you.

You’re so smitten, and so was he.

Jeno’s always one to follow the rules, but so far, he’s been breaking some of them already.

Just last night, he gave Renjun access to the lively museum because he needed more research regarding you. Initially, he practically interviewed Jeno for every piece of information he gathered because he used to be so deep in the books to study everything about you. Now in the past, Renjun still couldn’t forget how Jeno drunkenly admitted how crazy he was going to be over you and your coldness whilst sobering up in the dorm.

He didn’t understand one bit by that, especially when you’re technically dead. But by the sight of the first piece Renjun saw alive, which was Zeus, he almost passed out. Piece by piece, he viewed these artworks come to life from his fresh eyes. Right before he could’ve screamed when Athena shot a lightbulb in their exhibit, you happily called out Jeno’s name.

Renjun froze on the spot upon seeing your wax figure come to life. He’s browsed through this museum numerously due to the new exhibits, but lately, he checked your section out to find any tiny details that were linked to your life. Aside from the sketchpad, compass, and hairpins, he wanted to know if there was more to your life as an explorer.

As human interactions except the night guard weren’t allowed, Renjun needed help for his project in Women Studies. Just like Jeno’s assignment, you aided him. Fruitfully answering every question he gave you, Athena popped out of nowhere to inspect Jeno.

“I see you’re breaking another rule.”

“I’m sorry, Athena. He was desperate, and it would be selfish of me to let him fail.”

“This is the last one I’ll let slide, alright?” Athena huffed, not impressed by the reckless behavior Jeno acquired over time. She saw this coming, but for a change, she couldn’t punish him. He was a young adult, still learning more about life. Only will she step in if things turn for the worst. “I can’t believe I’ve gained a soft spot for you.”

Jeno laughed, hugging the figure like his older sister. “You love me though!”

Glad to say, Renjun aced his project and kept his word of not telling anyone about the happenings in Jeno’s job. Jeno even made a makeshift non-disclosure contract so Renjun wouldn’t spill the slightest details.

Lately, so much has been happening in the museum that having alone time with each other was rare. And when you did, the two of you made sure to maximize it and make every intimate moment count. From each touch, each longing kiss, each moan, and groan, never were you left hanging whether you’re at the Theater Room, Jeno’s office, or the Foreign Art Room.

The only time the two of you went beyond the boundaries was at the indoor garden. Jeno managed to get the key to it, lighting up some candles before you invited you inside. Thanks to the magic of the Greek gods, the cameras were bewitched to display fake imageries when security checks in the morning after.

Upon your deep conversations, you’ve mentioned once or twice about the indoor garden. It was the latest addition of the museum, opening in the early 2000s. Because it was a sacred place, no art piece was ever allowed inside.

Yet again, Jeno challenged the rules again when he invited you inside. A few minutes before, he set up some lights along the hallway of the garden, where he placed a blanket, a picnic basket, and his laptop right at the end of it. The best place to view everything, he just knew you’d love it.

He was undoubtedly right once you gasped at such a pretty sight. Seeing the silhouettes of various flowers and plants together with the night sky with all the stars sparkling, it was like you’re attending another ball with your sisters, who were looking for suitors then.

Once Jeno leisurely led you until the end, he brought out all the delicacies from the basket. One of them was this Italian savory dish of dough with toppings such as cheese and pepperoni, or pizza as they named it. The next ones were fresh strawberries and melted chocolate, followed by grape juice.

“I’d drink actual alcohol with you again, only if I didn’t get shitfaced and do my job properly.”

“Point taken. Besides, this is close enough. So pour me a drink please.”

Perhaps this was the closest to a date Jeno could ever ask you out to. With the restrictions and being constrained with time, he brainstormed all sorts of ways to bring the outside world to you. From simply letting you wander around this fascinating room, he unleashed the inner romantic in him. None of his friends would’ve thought since they never asked him about it, so he kept it to himself only. Finally, he’s satisfied with what he prepared. After eating, the two of you would watch more films before the sun rose again.

You’re just the right person for him at the moment he can act that way.

After your quiet stroll and sitting back down, Jeno surprisingly handed you a tiny box.

“A gift?”

“Open it.” He sipped on his juice, paying attention to your actions. Gently untying the box, the amazement in your eyes couldn’t fathom such a lovely present. No words were required to verify that Jeno outdid himself again, just your facial expression alone is enough.

When Jeno said that he pays attention to the tiny details, he doesn’t bluff. Throughout your growing relationship, you’ve cited how you wanted another special flower in your life. Just because you couldn’t view lavender roses the same way ever again, it didn’t mean you wanted to kick them out of your life. Flowers were one of nature’s beautiful creations, so you’re wishing to find the love you once had for lavender roses in other ones.

Thus, you came across what you thought held the highest form of meaning: red roses. Despite its thorns, it’s still a marvelous flower. Innocently, you told him that just because of the memory of your father giving them to your mother on her birthday yearly.

Red roses represented true love and romance, a discreet message only those eager would know.

Jeno was one of them, which was why he reserved this gift for this very moment. It was a necklace he found through a college fair recently, a subtle red rose pendant in the center. Since he couldn’t give you huge gifts, he settled for something light. Something none of the guards or the director wouldn’t pinpoint out when they do their inspections.

“Do you like it?”

Not one utter from your mouth since you’re so hypnotized, your lips quirked up in a charming smile. “Is that even a question? This is astonishing, Jeno.”

After you attempted to put it around your neck, Jeno sighed and stepped in to help you out. “Turn around, (Y/N). Let me.”

The tension gradually heightened once you held your hair up so Jeno accessibly viewed your clean neck. Clasping the lock, it took all his might to hold himself back from you. Even from behind, your silhouette was attractive to him. The lights he set up weren’t helping the slightest of what he’s thinking to do with you.

“Done.” He breathily whispered in your ear.

If he thought he was the only one feeling something powerful, he’d be more than wrong. The lingering sensation of his slim fingers gracing your décolletage area unhinged another kind of want, the one you’ve only imagined in your mind when you were needy and alone. It shouldn’t be a sin unless you’re with the person you’ve fallen for, right?

Facing him again, the eye contact didn’t last long when you were the first one to strike a move. Jeno kissed back right away, his hands pulling you closer by your waist. Whatever sultry music Jeno played, it gave you the perfect momentum to grind on his lap. He groaned against kisses, adding his tongue. His thumbs sensually rubbed your hipbones, one of your hands toying around with his hair while the other one balled up his shirt by the chest. None of you cared if anyone caught you.

The last time you’ve been this aggressive was at the Theater Room, which eventually increased the hidden lust you’ve had towards each other. Taking things slowly at first, it’s about time to delve in for more. The mood was already set from the start, even if Jeno didn’t plan this to happen here. But being the prepared man he is, he did have a condom in his back pocket.

Your fingers trailed from his neck until his crotch. He was hard, sensing how suffocated he must be. But he kept himself in control. Locking eye contact, you sweetly spoke.

“Grant my second wish, Jeno.” That same hand of yours held one of his, planting it in your breast. “Make love to me.”

Giving the go-signal, he crashed his lips on yours while stripping you off your dress. Carefully, he turned you around to untie your tight corset. Once it fell, your neck leaned sideways as his lips attacked it madly. Your breaths were tremulous, placing both his hands on your freed breasts to knead with. His touch felt like fire on your skin, yet you couldn’t stop.

“Jeno,” Obscene moans from your lips choked out. You desired more, shifting back to face him again to attack his lips. Slowly feeling one of his hands laying you down, you spread your legs with ease just for him. He parted after your head landed on the cushion to unbutton himself. The way your mouth dropped to selfishly stare at his bare body, flexing them before getting back into position. He was fit and toned just as Cleopatra predicted.

As much as Jeno knew how wild your thoughts were getting, he was more taken aback by your perky chest.

“Fuck, you are divine.” He sucked one nipple as his fingers ventured to slip your panties down. So much was going on, you didn’t know which stimulated you more. You tried to close your legs around his hand, but he slapped your inner thigh to stop you.

The cool breeze shivered you, especially from your core. Jeno’s fingers adventurously grazed from your hip area to your lower lips. He teasingly rubbed it up and down in your essence, his index finger settling it right at your needy clit. Another moan escaped your lips, an opportunity for Jeno to slide his tongue in your mouth. Enjoying the moment, his fingers dipped inside you. A gasp broke your kiss, making him giggle in your ear.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Oh, angel. The things I want to do with you.”

Sliding them back and forth, curling it even, you squirmed for more. Dropping himself to meet your core, Jeno placed your legs on his shoulder. Pushing you closer, his steamy breath felt like friction. Your hips grinded against it, so he gripped on them so you stay put.

“Angel,” He chuckled darkly, his crotch tightening at how powerless you looked. “You’re so pretty.”

You were drenched from arousal. But to Jeno, you were glowing under the lights. He wanted to take his time to admire what he had done to you. His independent girl, only weak for him.

His fingers unfolded in your lower lips, diving in to your orbit. You could hardly speak from his skilled mouth, especially his tongue savagely lapping your clit in numerous paces. You’ve only daydreamed about what it could do aside from kissing, and it exceeded your expectations. By the heated sensation that had the heels of your feet digging his back deeply, you affirmed to have seen more stars than the night sky above you.

Your back arched uncontrollably while his hands grasped your hips to stay in place, the tears in your eyes formulating while tugging on his hair. Your thighs clenched around his face, but his broad shoulders widened it to taste more of you. No use of pulling away when his grip on you was tight, so you could only cry out from the pleasure.

“Fuck!”

The ringing sounds in your off were going off, your throat drying up from moaning once another orgasm was about to hit. Once the knot in you snapped, nothing could hold back your screams of pleasure whilst panting for air. Sensitive as he licked every remaining essence he caused, he smirked as he got up to unbuckle his jeans.

Oh, boy. He got quite a package behind his boxers.

Even while you were overly sensitive, you had to grasp it in your hands. He was yours, and you were his.

The way you clenched around his protected length, pausing to readjust yourself to the feeling. The foreplay deemed helpful, though the girth of him overwhelmed you. He stretched you out so good.

“Are you okay, (Y/N)?” The stunned face you made was expected, still feeling worried that it may be too much.

Biting your lip, you moaned once everything felt bearable. “You can move, Jeno.”

None of you could track exactly how many rounds you went through. Even in the semi-public area, it didn’t hinder either of you. There’s that thrill, and surprisingly enough, you both shared the liking of it. Always switching the positions, you decided to call it quits after another sloppy round in missionary. Something seeing Jeno on top, fully submitting yourself to him, made you feel calm to be vulnerable. It’s really the trust you’ve established from the start, making you rely on humans again once you’ve let the past be.

Jeno brought out another blanket, initially meant for cuddling. It was still applicable though, curling your body into a spoon towards his racing chest. Music was no longer noise, the intimacy creeping back instead of lust this time. The afterglow of Jeno, sweaty and knackered as his legs sprawled under the sheet, was a sight for sore eyes. He’s always been handsome while on duty, but post-sex gave him an extra boost.

Plus there’s pride from the red marks courtesy of you on his chest, grazing over it softly.

Jeno chuckled softly at your smooth fingers, lifting them up to kiss them tenderly before kissing your lips again. Only humans were capable of and to love, but you’re some kind of an exception. Regardless of the magic from the plate, you’d be able to love too if it weren’t for your background.

There’s so much love Jeno wanted to offer you, even if he hasn’t said it out loud yet.

Perhaps one reason was because time was beginning to tick. Finals were a few weeks away, then the one-month long semestral break until a new semester kicks off. Time really flew by, and his bank account and heart expanded too. Enjoying the now was all he could think of doing, but those uncertainties bothered him.

The biggest would be where you and he would stand when his job ended.

Jeno was too absorbed in his internal debate, as portrayed by his eyes staring off in space and running his hand in his hair repeatedly. Something was disturbing him, and you’re concerned as to what it was.

“Jeno,” Around his arm, you tapped his chest to get him out of it. “What’s going on in your head?”

Jeno approached every obstacle he faces straightforwardly, not wanting to let him hold back. Rarely did he keep secrets, especially from you. Instead of hiding away, he voiced it out.

“(Y/N), will we work out?”

“What do you mean, Jeno?”

You’re so occupied in the present that thinking of the future was never in your field. Like him, you’re just enjoying being in the moment. Though after tonight, it’s making you wonder if there’s a future.

“Well,” He placed his hand on top of yours, affectionately observing you. “Times flies faster when you’re having fun, and well, the semester is ending.”

His last words crushed a part of your heart, remembering his initial plan. None of you expected your friendship to bloom into what it is now, but life was just full of surprises without a schedule. At the same time, none of you wouldn’t have it any other way.

It may have been a few months since you two committed to each other, but the spark was still strong. It wasn’t like a summer romance kind of feeling. Time was not a determinant of love either, which you were certain of it with Jeno. A lot more than Junmyeon.

It should’ve frightened you when you realized your love for Jeno, but it didn’t. Even if you didn’t age physically, your mindset did. You’ve learned to forgive your younger self, and through Jeno, you let your guard down completely. From that, you let love in. Platonic to your fellow art pieces, and all of the above to Jeno.

Throughout your relationship, you regained all confidence in yourself and everything you set your mind to.

“I wouldn’t want to worry too much about it if I were you.” Your body flipped to lie on your stomach, resting your head on your palm.

“Why shouldn’t I, angel?”

Gazing back at him, you left a velvety kiss on his lips to rest his thoughts. His hand wrapped your neck, deepening it. But you pulled away with a giggle, all too knowing of his secret intentions as his cock began to harden again. His eyes narrowed down and his lower lip stuck out at your attempt of being a tease.

But enough about sex, you wanted to address a point.

Lee Jeno was going to be the biggest risk you wanted to take and fight for, and no one should try to stop you.

“I’ll ask Circe for a potion. For me, for you, for us.”

If it weren’t for insistent questioning towards every art piece, who kept their mouths shut, only Circe herself banished him from his suffering. Her series of potions varied, and the one you requested years ago which you threw out was capable of turning any art piece into a living human. No potion of Circe ever failed, so you entrusted your life for the day you do drink it.

“Are you sure, angel?”

Jeno knew about that one specifically, and as great to hear that you never threw it out, he never put pressure on you. He wanted you to do whatever felt right, even if deep down, he wished you’d use it. He was only worried about how the flow of the entire museum would be disrupted.

Typical Jeno always looking out for you, but you saw right through his concern. Here you were, caressing his check as reassurance. With an honest smile,

“I’ve never been more certain with anything in my life here until you came, Lee Jeno.”

Jeno opened up more to his life outside the museum, telling all sorts of experiences not just his days as a university student. From his childhood, his family, his travels, heck you even want to meet his friends at this point!

Newly, he shared with you how the sunrise and sunset looked like in Seoul with much vivacity. It’s a luxury as a human to witness as day breaks and ends, so you could imagine by yourself how it would look like. Sure, you had drawings and all, but that was from the real (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

This version of you wanted to live more; that’s your greed now.

“You’ve never touched snow too, right?” Jeno, who had his arm wrapped around you, silently watched the first batch of snow from inside.

“Yup, that’s the thing when you’re imprisoned in this place.” You sulked by his side, earning a chuckle from him who pulled you in closer.

“Don’t tell me now that you despise this place.”

“I don’t, but it hinders me to experience new things. The whole pattern of being awake at night by a plate gets tiring, Jeno.”

All Jeno would do when you’re frustrated was placing your head on his shoulder, listening as you talk.

“I know, angel. But it won’t be long until you leave this place with me, right?”

“You know it!” You interlocked your hands with him, eyes trained at every falling snowflake.

Sometimes, moments in silence with Jeno were all you needed for the night. Being within each other’s presence, focusing or admiring something from afar, it was all the peace you’ve needed from the bustling art pieces.

This week was the last of the semester, and Jeno’s off duty for tonight to focus on his exams. You’ll see him tomorrow night, which was his last shift ever, and also yours too.

Perhaps the biggest milestone you’re committing to without any regrets.

However, it took an unnecessary conversation you accidentally eavesdropped on to rock your decision.

You needed more ink after running out mid-way of sketching the sculptures as a secret parting gift. Before you could take a single step inside your exhibit room, a series of voices were full-on arguing. Booming back and forth, you peeped your ear out whilst hiding against the door.

“Athena, how dare you did to her?! She’s done so well from moving on from it, falling in love even! And now you’re telling me this?!” The distinct voice of Princess Diana, who spoke sweetly most of the time, boomed towards the Greek god. “You’re heartless.”

“I did what I had to do for the sake of this place, Diana!” Athena raised her voice, the lightning in her hands holding back from lashing out. She hated it when anyone argued with her, especially when she does things according to what she believed was necessary. Out of everyone, she had more leadership. “She had to know that her place is here as a wax figure, not outside. Talking Junmyeon out of it was for the best, plus it’s ideal when he drank the potion of memory loss from Circe.”

“But it tore her apart when he left her, and it’s going to tear her again if you do the same with Jeno.”

“How else are you going to approach the situation then, Diana? Those two have broken the highest golden rule, so they need to wake up.”

Right when she celebrated within herself for healing, hearing the unbearable revelation behind the past devastated you. This whole time, she internally blamed herself for being ageless and lashed out at others. The scary past barged back in, and you couldn’t handle it anymore.

Somewhere in the corner, you wept without a trace. You could care less about Athena’s opinions, but you found yourself agreeing to some of her words. You had a role to fulfill, and leaving that behind would be selfish and it could make the museum go topsy-turvy. As painful for Junmyeon to leave you, it was because the truth hurts. Nothing could change it, even if Circe could be your solution because it’ll leave a lot of questions. You didn’t want Jeno to be seen as a suspect.

Oh, Jeno.

There’s nothing wrong with falling in love either, you didn’t intend it to happen. But it becomes unfair when it compromises with your purpose, and that’s not how you are. You’ll always remember Jeno as your biggest risk, though it’s time to end things. Treacherous as it was to accept for you, risk-takers have boundaries too.

Fast forward, on the night of Jeno’s last shift, you’ve cherished every second with him. Playing around, chatting with other art pieces, kissing in private, you made it count. Before dawn broke, that’s where you chose to come clean by the garden, your sacred place. Not even your self-reassurance could prepare you to witness the hurt and confusion Jeno felt.

“You’re a mortal, and you still get to choose your path. Mine is already predetermined here as a wax copy of a historical figure.” You advised as you held both his hands, your voice shaking at the reality.

A few days ago, you were beaming with exhilaration at a new journey but now you’ve permanently backed out. Jeno couldn’t comprehend, and as much as he tried, he couldn’t. A life without you by his side would be empty and dull. “Even so, there are things about you that the original person didn’t have.”

Arguing with him wasn’t your favorite, and it’ll leave the two of you in a bad mood. But there is no way to negotiate this; you’ve already made up your mind. “We must end this, Jeno. You need someone who can grow old with you, and I can’t be that person for you.”

“But we can make it work!” His hands gripped on your slumped shoulders, whilst your face avoiding his to spare yourself from the heartache. “There’s still Circe.”

“I know, but recently, I found out that she’s an indirect cause of my misery.” Pulling away from his touch, you belted with frustration. “I cannot do this anymore, Jeno.”

You’ve always fought for whatever you wanted in life, and Jeno knew he was one of them if it weren’t for you telling him that. So he did the same, thinking of ways to make you feel whole. Now, he couldn’t tolerate the sudden crumbling of his heart from your outburst, and all he wanted to know was why you felt this way. How could he help you?

You don’t keep secrets from Jeno, but the truth behind your harsh actions cannot be revealed for the sake of the museum. Plus, you didn’t want him to despise this place he admired. Causing him pain wasn’t on your list, but keeping him safe was. It may be shown differently and he may not understand it now, but over time, he will.

“Jeno, you’ll find someone better out there. Someone with their whole life ahead of them, who’ll love you for everything that makes you who you are.” Repetitive punches in your guts urged you to barf at your half-lie, but you held it in.

“Why are you pushing me away? What happened to taking risks, (Y/N)?” Jeno interrogated, taking your hands in his hands again. They unconventionally quivered, like his lips. Jeno has never cried in front of anyone, not even when he was younger. Though for you, he just might. “Am I not worth it for you?”

Dear heavens, he was wrong. You internally screamed that, but you can’t let your selfishness seize the night. As Athena said, you had to wake up from your dream. “Committing to you was my biggest risk of them all, Jeno. Everything else that went along with it, I don’t regret it one bit. But time’s really up for us, and we must resume our normal duties.”

“I can’t lose you, (Y/N).”

“You never will, Jeno.”

He crouched lower to meet your height, his finger moving your head so you’d look at him back. Weakly enough, you did. “I want you to be a part of my normal life, angel.”

“I’ll always be here, you know. I’ll be standing in my usual spot upstairs, and you can drop by whenever you can.” You pressed your lips, lifting your head to avoid incoming tears. Meanwhile, he began shedding a few. You’ve hurt him big time, and you’ll never forgive yourself for this. “I still have one wish, right?”

Jeno’s sorrow was beyond his capacity, leaning his forehead against yours to kiss it. No matter what he could say or do, he already knew it won’t be effective. You’re affirmative in your choices, yet he still wanted to challenge it. All he wanted to know was why you’re doing this.

“Let me walk you one last time to your section.”

The black night sky had remnants of blue, motioning that dawn was approaching. Other figures gave their goodbyes to Jeno earlier, cleaning up their areas before they pose. Though none of them anticipated such a cold atmosphere between you two, they could only spy on what was bound to happen.

“My last wish is for you to let me go, Jeno.” You avowed, blinking your eyes with faux positivity. Your hands patted his blazer so it wouldn’t crease. “I already have a role to fulfill here, and you’re on the way to yours, future architect.”

“I love you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Only tonight did he muster his courage to finally admit it to you after giving himself more time to analyze it. Timing was always crucial, and the badness of it showed.

Deep in your heart, you resonated the feeling. But it’ll make things more complicated, and it was the final thing you’ve wanted to occur. Someone had to be the strong one, and now, it should be you. With one more compassionate kiss on his lips, you stepped inside your section and readied your position.

“Goodbye, Lee Jeno.”

The sunshine brightened the room, and you’ve frozen to slumber again.

All Jeno could do was drop on his knees, sobbing over your rash actions. Unknown to him, a single tear left your eye as you posed.

Regardless of what status you were in, the pain of it all remained.

Jeno spent most of his semestral break with his friends to travel or whatnot, trying to forget it all. Even if he aced all his finals, his efforts felt like nothing if he never had you by his side to celebrate.

The sting over his short-lived romance with you never diminished the slightest, no one whom he could express his pain about it to especially when Renjun drank the memory wipe potion that Athena initially left for Jeno by his desk.

Forget it all, and live a peaceful life. You have so much potential, my mentee.

- Athena

Perhaps this was the same thing Junmyeon drank all those years ago, but unlike him, he didn’t have the guts to. He still wanted another chance.

So every day since the new semester began, he spent every afternoon break at your section. He’ll be seated by the bench, doing his assignments and talking about his day while sometimes stealing a glance of your figure. Some habits don’t change.

He never got sick of the same smile you exemplified, falling even more for you. He’ll often wonder what you’ve been up to.

What are your new sketches?

Are you taking care of Mochi well?

Have you apologized to Sanghoon yet?

Speaking of him, he surprisingly scooted over to Jeno’s side. This was the first time Jeno met the man, and politely enough greeted him. Sanghoon interviewed the boy, asking all sorts of questions that Jeno had every answer to. The biggest change that Sanghoon noticed since he left was your personality. You no longer bite, but treat everyone kindly without bias. You’re always active to help him out in cleaning the lobby, and you don’t go easily defensive.

Once he found out that Jeno was the reason for that, he was overjoyed at the start and wanted to meet him some way. You were a tough cookie, but now you relaxed. That was all that mattered to him, hoping to know more about him from you. That was until Diana stepped in and told him everything that happened. Mostly, the bad.

Playfulness eventually bore love. The last time you fell in love was in the 80s and Junmyeon pushed you away, he recalled. This time, you’re pushing Jeno away because you simply agreed with Athena’s points.

This wasn’t right, but it wasn’t his place to interfere.

But then again, he finally caught Jeno for the first time today and this time, he was open to hearing his side of the story. Lessen his misery too.

“No matter how stubborn she is, she loves you.” He advised him, bringing out one of your full sketchbooks. As Jeno opened it, the majority of the portraits were him. Sleeping, smiling, laughing, you drew him from every minor detail you could spot like the mole near his eye and his crescent eyes.

A handsome face I would never get sick until the end of time. Someone I want to wake up to every day in the morning if it weren’t for that plate.

- (Y/N)

Towards the end, a sketch of a house unfolded. The interior was a fusion of modernity and old royal design due to its white walls, wide space, and the placing of less furniture, plus an open backyard. There’s another tiny comment on the side from you.

I was right. Joining our varying designs together is pretty. Maybe Jeno and I could live in a house like this one day.

- (Y/N)

If you loved him so much, why did you let him go then when you had all these plans with him? Even if he tried to understand, he just didn’t.

“Don’t give up just yet when she told you to.”

“Are you just saying this or something?”

“Well, Princess Diana passed this message on but after everything, I believe that she’s right.” Sanghoon gave his opinion, but Jeno was reluctant to accept it.

“I never got a proper explanation why she suddenly changed her mind, Sanghoon.” He ranted, raking his hand through his hair from puzzlement. “Did I do something wrong?”

Sanghoon pitied him, having the upper hand and questioning himself whether to reveal the truth. However, since this boy took the job, he’s succumbed to secrecy. Without any transparency, it could drive someone mad. He’s too young for that, so Sanghoon breathed in defeat and placed his hand on Jeno’s shoulder.

“Promise me you won’t be mad when I tell you because I was when I found out; almost screamed even.”

Jeno nodded, listening to whatever Sanghoon had to say.

Of all people, he never would’ve expected Athena to do such a brash thing. Someone he respected and trusted, only to betray him by doing something she believed was good for all. Except it wasn’t, and it ended up hurting you all these years. The woman he loved, now he’s a clearer understanding of why you did what you did. Yet, it can’t fix his excruciation.

Heartbroken was an understatement; he had no one to rely on. With Sanghoon, he finally had a proper breakdown. The older man could only comfort his quietly, picturing him like one of his sons going through a hard time in school. But if it involves the heart, it’ll take more time to recover.

“You’re always the one adjusting, Jeno. But I think this time, you’re the one who needs space.”

A Year and a Half Later

“Jeno Lee!!!” Jaemin roughly wallowed his best friend in a hug when he arrived in their dorm room for the first time in a long time. “You dyed your hair blonde again!”

Renjun, who was behind the two of them, only rolled his eyes as he helped carry Jeno’s bags. “God damn it, Jaemin! You’re supposed to be helping me first!”

“I know, but give me a few seconds! I’m just happy our group is back together!”

Jeno laughed at his friends’ annoying yet silly dynamics, giddy to be back home. For a year, Jeno spent his 3rd year of university in Rome, Italy after one of his professors brought up to him about a scholarship program there for his course. At the time where he needed a change of scenery, he sent his application form and got interviewed.

Acing it, he had the opportunity to fly across the world to study and travel. His English skills surely improved, even picking up Italian words along the way due to a required class for it. He studied the history of different locations and how they were built.

He also went on field trips almost every day if it weren’t for the Italian students assigned to tour him around, academic and non-academic. Nights he spent on drinking wine on the rooftop of his dorm with them, screaming his complaints in the world with them.

It didn’t hit him that his stay was reaching its end until he submitted his final plate. His goodbye party didn’t even feel like one, but a see you later in the next few years after he becomes a licensed architect with money. His goal of it felt more realistic, motivating him to excel in his remaining years in university.

After unpacking half of his things, he was reminded of an email from one of the head professors, who requested another copy of his confidential documents from the Italian university he went to as soon as he’s back on campus.

He raced to the department with a folder of them and luckily encountered the said professor. Handing it to him, this professor questioned how he was and what experiences he gained from the trip. With excitement, Jeno spoke all sorts of tales from his adventures, highlighting how determined he was now to be an architect.

“That’s great to hear, Jeno!” He celebrated, checking on his watch, and widened his eyes. Frantic at his colliding schedules, he asked Jeno for a favor. It turned out that at the same time as his emergency meeting, he’s supposed to tour the new transferee student around campus.

“Only if you have time, Jeno! I could always ask another student, plus you just came back and need rest.”

“It’s not like I left for a decade, sir. No worries, I’ll do it.”

“Oh, bless your soul.” He put his hands together in prayer position, bowing back and forth with gratitude. “Wait, she’s right outside! Go ahead and introduce yourself.”

Jeno nodded, exiting right through the department doors. This girl had her back turned, inspecting her surroundings. She wore a black and white tweed blazer that matched with her skirt, black high heeled boots, and a black handbag. She must be a foreigner, Jeno thought.

“Excuse me, are you the transferee in the department of Architecture?”

Jeno didn’t brace himself for the surprise he’d face once this girl reacted to him calling her out. Her face was one he could never forget, no matter how many times he told himself to. The same face he convinced his heart to stop beating for, yet it lied.

This radiant face was none other than yours.

Jeno almost dropped his phone. He tried his best to hold on to your promise, but he failed. It was the main reason he studied abroad; to forget and focus on his career path. So the least thing he could’ve done was to study hard for his dream career.

Just a glimpse of you projected back every single memory you’ve had together. Beautiful yet heart-wrenching, he kept his emotions to himself.

You even wore the rose necklace he got you. Could it be?

“It’s been a while, Lee Jeno.” You took the metaphorical scissors to cut the tension, trying to contain the crushing feelings. The faculty center was a public place, yet it’s like the two of you were on the main stage.

“Do you remember me?” Astounded, you nodded. Every single detail.

Jeno could’ve ran away, but didn’t. He could’ve left you hanging, but didn’t. He can no longer count how many times you’ve appeared in his dreams, only to be disappointed when morning comes to not have you in his arms. He took one step closer, taking his time.

“How do you know me?”

“You’re the boy whom I helped with his assignment, argued with me over Romeo and Juliet,” You mimicked his move, making you one step nearer to him. “And most of all, the boy I once gave my entire heart to.”

Another step, leaving a few inches between the two of you. His heart palpitated without caffeine. What if he was napping in his dorm again? It was all surreal. “Is it really you, (Y/N)?”

Hearing your name from his lips lowered your guard, you pleased him with a hopeful grin. “I’d be dust by now if I didn’t drink Circe’s potion, right?”

That’s where Jeno unchained himself from his emotions. He engulfed in a warm hug, one that has no plans to let go when his chin planted on your shoulder. You returned the gesture, dropping all your worries away along with your bag and papers as your arms snaked through his neck.

You knew you had to part ways for a while after everything, though you were unsure how he’d feel about it. You recalled every time he visited you after his job ended up until his intense chat with Sanghoon, where he bawled his heart out. You couldn’t take it anymore after trying to stay strong, crying as soon as you woke up that night.

All your fellow figures could do was soothe you down like before to the best of their abilities, yet this time, it was unsuccessful. You’re filled with misery, realizing later how much of a big mistake you’ve made.

You’ve isolated yourself again for a while, but less rudeness and more silence. It was until Circe visited you. She doesn’t like getting involved with drama, though now was different. She, alongside Hera and Aphrodite, couldn’t withstand you tolerating the heartbreak again. So they went behind Athena’s back on this one time and created a potion together just for you. But with a compromise.

“This potion can turn you into a human. However, there’s only a 10% chance you’ll regain all your memories from this place.”

“So I’ll forget everyone and him?”

“Yes, unfortunately.” You’re about to shoo her away, not in the mood to do something drastic as that. But Circe grabbed your arm again. “I strongly believe that if you and he meant to be, then there will come a time these past memories will suddenly surge at you.”

“Must I need to forget to live properly?”

You’re stubborn, and Circe expected it. “You’ve broken so many golden rules, (Y/N), so it must be done. I’ve gone against Athena for this potion, and rarely have I done that. So rather than wallowing up in misery, you should focus on yourself. Do what makes you happy because this place is trapping you from every great thing out there.”

Those were the word that the actual (Y/N) (Y/L/N) lived by, nevertheless, you’re unique from her. You built a separate identity from her. “But Jeno-”

“At the right time, (Y/N). Pull yourself together and do all the things you’ve dreamt of before he came into the picture. I just know he loves you that much, and that he will wait for you.”

That same night, you gathered all your senses and drank it. The transition was fast as lightning speed, and behold, you were like a new person. You’re back in London, with a family that closely resembled your former one; only 3 older siblings, making you the youngest. You also had a new set of memories, from childhood until your adult years.

From (Y/N) (Y/L/N), you became (Y/N) Edwards.

It took one drunken night out with your university friends for the unlikely surge of old memories to speedily hit through your intoxicated state. Way beyond a dream, you’ve dropped your shot glass and broke down in the bathroom of your dorm room. You left something unaccomplished, and you had to do something before it’s too late.

Thus, you rushed to Seoul thanks to your parents’ support as they agreed that exploring outside your home country was a great experience. The only excuse you gave to your friends for the sudden transfer was you finding a new calling.

Sure, studying abroad was an exciting thing but you’re more determined to reunite with him. Even if this encounter was unforeseen, it was bound to happen one day. It so turned out that you had the same major in your former university and this new one.

Head to toe, you remembered everything.

“I’m so sorry I took so long.” You cradled your head on his chest, unaware of how your new life left Jeno so troubled.

“That doesn’t matter anymore.” Jeno tightened his grip, scared of releasing you again. Those two years felt like a breath of fresh air and a punch in the gut. “I tried to live up to your last wish, but I really can’t.”

“I want to take that wish back, Jeno. I wasn’t thinking right and only ended putting you through so much.”

“Oh, angel. I slowly understood why you did it.” Before he got too fragile, he softened his grip on you and showed his face again to you. He wanted a better look at his pretty girl, his fingers brushing strands of your hair behind your ear. Heart-fluttering, you bit your bottom lip. “What would you want to wish for instead?”

“Instead of you letting me go, I wish you could take me back and love me again. I can’t undo the past, but I’d still like to think I’ve tried my best.” That was the only wish you could ever think of. As huge as it was, it was something he may not accept. Yet you gave it a go, risking it all. “I don’t deserve you at all, Jeno.”

“Don’t say that, (Y/N).” One of his hands grabbed yours, putting it on his cheek. Cupping it, “I’ve never stopped loving you, you know.”

Oh, love. An all-too familiar emotion that either makes or breaks you. Of all the times you could’ve said those words, you held back, especially that wretched night you two broke it off. Although you showed it, being able to say it to someone felt more empowering.

This was finally the chance you’ve unconsciously waited for.

“I’m stupid for not saying this sooner.”

“What is it?”

With intimate eye contact, you drowned in the comfort of his brown orbs. You trusted him then, and you trusted him now. “I love you, Lee Jeno.”

Secretly, Jeno anticipated for the day you’d say those meaningful 3 words. Just like you, he showed more affection through actions than words. He only admitted when he lost you, and never would he do the same mistake again. If he felt that the love was strongly present, he will say it aloud.

“I love you still, (Y/N).” His arm around your waist tugged you in further. “I loved you as (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and I will continue to love you as (Y/N) Edwards.”

He peeked on your ID earlier, but regardless, he stood by his truth. You’re still the same (Y/N).

Finally, he closed the limited space between your lips. The memories of your past romance replayed in sync of every touching kiss, popping one leg up like in the movies. The Princess Diaries, specifically. Like in the museum from your unbearable parting, one warm tear freed itself down your cheek.

The sweetness of being reunited with you again beat the torturous wait of Jeno. Time really made your hearts grow fonder. As everyone said, if the love between two people is real, then it’ll find its way back to each other.

The world must be on your side too because no professor called you two out on your public display of affection. Jeno pecked your lips one time before stepping away, picking up the things you dropped.

“Now come on, I have to tour you around as instructed.”

You stomped on your feet, rolling your eyes from being left hanging. He’s still the same tease from before. “After that kiss though, I would’ve thought we could reschedule it.”

“No can do, Edwards.” Passing over your things, he wrapped one arm around you as he escorted you out of the building. The university was huge, with more buildings and green fields surrounded everywhere. “Left or right? There are a lot of places you missed out on all those years.”

“Point taken. Then you lead the way, my love.”

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soulfullofold · 2 years ago

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🪄🪄🪄 zapzapzap!

(vibrating) SO NORMAL. SO NORMAL. like a microwaved ant.

you might be spoilin’ me [with too much love] flowers on the hillside, bloomin’ crazy crickets talkin’ back and forth in rhyme blue river runnin’ slow and lazy I could stay with you forever and never realize the time yer gonna make me wonder what I’m sayin’ yer gonna make me give myself a good talkin’ to yer gonna have to leave me now, I know but I’ll see you in the sky above in the tall grass, in the ones I love yer gonna make me lonesome when you go

Bob Dylan is such a formative artist for me. He might have fueled my #notlikeothergirls phase a little but he's the favorite musician of another formative mentor figure for me. One of my Really special formative childhood experiences was going on these school road trips themed around american history (led by the 8th grade history teacher) and I got invited early to go (as a 7th grader) and got invited back afterwards (as a 9th grader). I could get out of the house and go on these awesome trips to see historic sites...idk it really made me into the person I am and sparked my interest in museums & museum design & the conversations around historic sites in general. God I get emo about it anyways we would get to pick the CDs we listened to and Bob Dylan was ofc in there. My big introduction into folk music was through Dylan & I really enjoy his songwriting. This one is... kind of a silly song to pick but I think it's the one I'm the most not normal about. Whhhheeennn I was coming out to some of my childhood friends, I wrote some fiction with some old old old shared OCs of mine and it was basically songfic about this character going on a solo roadtrip and listening to Blood on the Tracks and realizing that she wants to break up with her boyfriend. That it's gonna be painful because she DOES love him and always will have a love for him, but damn, it's not right, it's all theater for her, and not fair to either of them to let them stay trapped. ASIDE from all the Baggage I have with this song I just adore the lyrics & they're some of my favorites from Dylan. ;m;

this growing old is getting old I often find myself here thinking about the birds, the boats, and past loves that flew away or started sinking and it's crazy here without you I used to think this all was ours we'd stay up late, debate on how we'd find our way say it's all up in the stars well, some nights I rule the world with bar lights and pretty girls but most nights I stay straight and think about my mom oh god, I miss her so much and there are people on the street they're coming up to me they're telling me that they like what I do now and so I tried my best when I took the fall to get right back up, back in your arms if you're out here why do I miss you so much I just need a helping hand I close my eyes and think about tomorrow it never came true and you, you're always holding on to stars I think they're better from afar because no one here's gonna save us don't you wish on me why can't you see that no one's gonna save us? no one's gonna save us no one's gonna save me now

A teenager scream-in-the-shower song for sure. Lots of feelings around the mom lines 🤪 & lots of anti-religious feelings bottled up in my young body lskfjaslk. I did cry when I heard this live thanks

believe me I never wanted to be this way never thought that I'd be this age and fail so soon we'll settle down out west look at the cage I've been caught up in look at the way I've been brought up look at the pain I called my God, I never wanted it bad enough, well bury me in some fashion in something fashionable with a procession whose words / with dirt and words that sound like a song I used to know but never wrote 'cause it was beautiful and predictable like oh, oh, all I ever wanted how'd I ever fail so soon?

aha L;FJSADKFL it's a cute nugget of a song that just gently guts me like im a crab being shelled and dipped in butter.

#asked and answered #old jams #ask box meme response #music #pinyonrice

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stylesberries · 5 years ago

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Stay With Me

Summary: You meet Harry on his trip to Italy in an art gallery. You fell in love to the art and architecture of Rome.

Genre(s): fluff

Word Count: 3.4k

Warning(s): none. (Except the unbounded sweetness.)

“Why is it so hot?” You whined to yourself, walking along the pavement, trying to make your way around the wide trunks of old stone pines.

You unscrewed the cap of a water bottle off and took a sip. The ice-cold water you bought from a food stall by the Trevi Fountain was already a little too warm for your liking. Trying not to mind it too much you emptied the bottle at one gulp.

“Did the food stall keeper tell me to turn right here or go straight ahead?”

You tried to playback on the conversation you had a little over fifteen minutes ago, but you couldn’t get yourself to focus. It was so hot.

You walked through the narrow side streets of Rome. Little souvenirs shops surrounded you from both sides as you made your way along the lane without turning, trying your luck.

When you reached a wider street that opened to your view as you left the tight space, you could breathe the fresh car exhausts again. There it is.

Barberini Palace.

Home to the National Gallery of Ancient Art - the main reason why you were so determined to find this place.

With newfound determination, you moved along the pavement to walk up to the fenced area that belonged to the Palace. You prayed that it was open today. You checked online, but you still felt a rush of worry fill you when you saw the door closed and not wide-open like it usually was in museums like this. The reason for it being that there were so many tourists at all time walking in and out of these historical places that there was no reason and no point to keep closing and opening the door.

You closed your eyes as you reached for the door handle and pushed it. It is hard to describe the sense of pleasant surprise you felt when the door obeyed the force applied by you.

As the heavy door lets you inside of the little room where the tickets were sold, you let your eyes scan over the interior. The ceilings were tall and a beautiful fresco of heavenly bodies and angels was spread across them.

After you got tickets you walked further into the spacious room and walked up the creme marble stairs that the lady at the door told you to follow.

As you made your way up the stairs, in the corners of which stood tall marble sculptured of Roman men and women, you felt eyes on you.

Eyes of all of the heavenly bodies that dwelt at the surface of the frescoes and those who stood in cold marble prisons and watched you walk by so freely.

“What a beautiful place!” You talked to yourself once again.

You came to Rome alone. A getaway trip - as you like to refer to it. You needed to spend more time with yourself and yourself only. Just you and the ancient art of Rome. At least just for now.

You made your way through the gallery, analyzing every painting a bit too long for most people.

That’s why you came alone. You could now stand by every piece of art for an indefinite amount of time. You could stand by this painting for the whole day until the guards kick you out. Nobody was here with you to keep pulling you to the next painting. You could finally find peace and relaxation.

You slowly made your way to the biggest frame you’d seen so far. There was a place to sit in front of it, so you sat down, as the painting was full of the smallest details, and you were determined to only leave when you take note of every one of them you could see.

You sat there for fifteen minutes and didn’t notice as time went by. You were so focused on the see of little creatures that hid behind tall oak trees, children that ran around the flower field chasing baby ducks and a group of women that bathed in light fabric and wallowed in the warm rays of the sun.

“It’s beautiful,” you muttered under your breath and situated your elbow on your knee, letting it hold your chin.

“It really is.”

A voice took you by surprise and made you tear yourself from the picture.

You turned your head, which was still situated on your hand, towards the sound. There stood a young man in wide-leg white pants, a T-shirt, and a think blue cardigan on top of it. A beige cap covered his hair, but you could still see some curls on the sides of his head.

He didn’t exactly look dangerous, but the voice in your head kept screaming “CREEPY GUY AHEAD OF YOU! RUN BEFORE HE MAKES A MOVE!” Growing up a woman taught you too many lessons.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. You probably want to sit down. I’ve been sitting here for so long!” You abruptly got up from your place and grabbed the bag that you threw to your side on the seat.

“SHOOT HIM A SMILE AND GET OUT!”

You smiled at him and went to turn around, but he talked back to you.

“No, no. You shouldn’t have gotten up. I could tell y’wanted to take some time. I understand. The painting is full of detail. Please don’t go. I didn’t mean to disturb you, I’ve just never seen anyone sit in front of a painting for so long.” The guy smiled at you with his cheeks starting to turn rosy.

The second you heard him seemingly judge you for staring at the picture for too long, you turned back with a frown on your face ready to clap back before he continued.

“You looked very passionate and I would love it if we could sit and discuss it maybe? I know it sounds weird coming from a stranger-” He paused.

“You bet, crazy man.” You thought to yourself and giggled softly, realizing that the possibility that this ball of nerves is a human trafficker is close to zero.

“You just seemed nice.” He finished, paying no mind to your giggling.

“He isn’t trying to come to close. Hasn’t called me anything weird yet. Looks like he reads a ton of Joan Didion. Why not?” The voice inside of your head was now protecting this stranger from you, which happened very rarely.

“We could.” You finally answer him, after making him stare at you expectingly.

It didn’t take you a while to figure out who he was. When you sat next to him to talk to him and finally looked at him properly, without trying to run away, the realization came upon you. You were a fan and you loved his music, but you could tell he didn’t want the conversation to be about him, so you talked about one of your favorite things in the world - art.

You talked about the painting in front of you and after you had already discussed every little detail you noticed, you moved to the frescoes on the ceiling. Harry seemed surprised at your knowledge of art and kept getting more and more into the conversation with every new word that left your mouth. After talking about frescoes Harry asked you about the purpose of your trip. You told him everything as it was. Still, to this day you were surprised about the honesty that you showed a man that you had never met before that.

Later, when you were both making your way down the marble stairs, Harry asked you if you’d like to have lunch with him the next day, to which you agreed to, knowing that you have nothing better to do and you were quite enjoying his company.

In the following weeks, you exchanged numbers and texted whenever you weren’t able to meet. Harry would send you pictures of art and architecture of places he visited for his new Gucci campaign. You would reply to him with pictures of an antique fountain outside the Contemporary Art Museum you went to.

Harry seemed surprisingly normal for a man who starts a conversation with strangers in art museums. He would invite you over to his hotel to go get some gelato together and talk about the highlights of your trip. It became an everyday thing for you to walk around in parks by the palaces or get lost in the labyrinths of tightly packed buildings in the city center.

You spent two weeks of your life with a complete stranger that by the end of the trip seemed closer to you than any friend you had before. Harry would listen to your rants and venting without making you feel bad for sharing certain things with him. He would talk to you about any exciting thing that happens to him throughout the day with an adorable look on his face. You didn’t know what caused the gleam in his eyes, but you were glad he was enjoying his time in Italy just as much as you did.

Harry had never enjoyed a trip to work this much before. He was full of excitement and positive energy. He would wake up every day thinking about you and places he could take you to. It was a little strange to be so vigorous, even for him. Skipping breakfast, in order to have ice-cream with you was something he had never done before for anyone.

What Harry didn’t know that the quivering and light trembling he felt every time he thought of you was none other than aborning love - the kind that gives life a meaning.

Harry knew that you didn’t live in Rome and you would have to go back home after your trip is over. However, the heart-sinking that Harry felt when you told him that your flight was in two days was indescribable. Was this really the end?

He was being a little bit dramatic, as you did exchange numbers, so you would be in touch, but it still wasn’t enough for him. The reason behind it was still a mystery to him.

When Harry invited you for dinner a day before you had to leave back home, you couldn’t hold back a genuine smile that made his heart flutter.

Here you were now - getting ready to go out to dinner with Mr. Harry Styled himself.

After applying a green graphic liner all over your eyelids, putting on a little bit of blush and a lipgloss, you stepped into your rufous-brown flares. You tugged a plain white T-shirt into them and put on a blue linen blazer. You walked out of your hotel room in brown loafers, grabbing the key and your bag on the way out.

You took a taxi to get to the restaurant where Harry was waiting for you. On the way to the restaurant, the butterflies in your stomach made themselves felt, surprising you.

“It’s just Harry. Why am I so anxious?”

When you paid the driver and walked out of the taxi, you could see a beautiful building in front of you. Its exterior reminded you of the Venice style of architecture. Dark olive tree leaves flooded the street, after being torn from the comfort of their branches by the cool wind.

You made your way to the entrance, where the doorman let you in and greeted you. The hostess came up to you and asked you about your reservation.

“Mr. Styles. I think he should already be here.” You answer her.

When she heard the name she turned to the doorman and asked him to escort you to your table. The doorman then leads you deeper into the restaurant, where the private booths are situated and pulls on a curtain of one of them to let you in.

You are greeted by a dreamy view.

Harry sat at the table in a creme colored suit and a white tank top. The candles in front of him illuminated the booth and their light reflected from him collar bones, so you could see the wings of his sparrows tattoo.

“Hi, Y/N! You look beautiful.” He softly smiled at you and you could see a light shade of pink appear on the apples of his cheeks.

“Hi, Harry. You look beautiful as well.” You smiled back at him and sat down opposite to him.

You could see his eyes scan your outfit and makeup.

“Does he think it’s too much?” Immediately, blood rushed to your cheeks as you blushed in embarrassment. “Here am I scaring people off being extra again. Great.”

Before you could let your mind sneer at you further, Harry spoke up.

“I love your makeup. I’ve never seen someone do their makeup like this. I guess it’s out of most people’s comfort zones. Looks beautiful on you. I-I mean everything does.” Harry’s voice died down by the end of the sentence, but you didn’t pay it any mind.

“Thank you so much. I try to experiment with clothes and makeup as much as possible. Makeup especially. I like using my face as a canvas. It takes time to get proper supplies to paint, but makeup is always around so I try not to lose any opportunities to have fun with it.”

While you skimmed through the menus, you discussed how you applied the wings so evenly and promised him to do his makeup one day. After choosing the main courses, Harry started telling you about the Gucci photoshoot that was now wrapping up.

“We’re almost done, so I think by the end of next week I’ll be going back home.” He started.

“That sounds wonderful, Harry. Do you think that you could send me more pictures when I leave? I’ll be far away from this beauty and I wouldn’t want it to leave my sight.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Harry muttered to himself.

“Hm?” You asked.

“No, no, nothing. I said I’ll make sure to send you as many pictures as I can.” He tried to brush it off, looking at you intently.

“Weird,” you thought but didn’t worry about it too much.

Throughout the dinner, you and Harry discussed so many different topics that you lost count by the end of it. Harry kept making jokes just to make you laugh over and over again, loving how the corners of your eyes creased when you laughed and how you had to wipe the tears his jokes caused to see clearly.

By the end of the dinner, the laughter died down and Harry’s mood became the opposite of what it was when you entered the booth.

“Hey, is something wrong? You seem upset.” You carefully started.

“No, everything is alright, love, don’t worry.” He quickly answered.

Love. That sounded so nice.

You chose not to bother him further and chose to tell him pleasant stories instead, but he wouldn’t let this weird melancholy go. Even the sweetness of dessert didn’t make it better.

“My mom used to tell me that if even a dessert doesn’t make your problems go away, you’re in deep shit.” You tried to lighten the mood.

You could now see a little smile growing on Harry’s face. The little smile slowly grew into a wide grin, which later on grew into a burst of guttural laughter. Harry kept laughing so hard that he felt the need to cover his face with his hands. Saying that you were proud of yourself was an understatement.

You just sat there with a stupid smile on your face staring at him in awe. “He’s really cute.”

When Harry’s laughter died down he looked at you with a sad smile on his face.

“I will miss y’so much.” He looked at you full of sincerity and tenderness.

You furrowed your brows at him and you let your chin fall on your palm, as your elbow found its place on the surface of the table.

“But I’m here.” You gave him a soft smile and let your eyes run over his frame. He looked completely defeated. There was nothing left of the happy, constantly-beaming-with-life Harry that you’ve spent the last two weeks with.

“You’re leaving tomorrow. You won’t be here anymore.” He let his eyes fall on the candles that slowly melted to their death. As the white wax dripped down the side of the candle, Harry could feel his time with you slip away as well.

“We can still text, right?” You tried to soothe the pain that he seems to be going through.

“That’s not the same.” He lets out a sigh full of frustration before looking up at you with sadness dwelling his eyes.

“I want to be around you. Physically. You made this trip the best one in my entire life just by blessing me with your presence.” Harry felt the now-familiar fluttering in his stomach as he let those gentrice words leave his mouth.

You couldn’t stop yourself from frowning, confused by his honesty.

“How am I supposed to go on with my life when I always feel the need to be around you? And I’ve only known you for what? Two weeks?” Harry speaks again, letting all of his frustration with the situation out.

You kept looking at him not knowing what to say. “If he’s being honest, I should be honest, too.” You thought and let your heart guide you.

“I don’t know why, but I feel the same way. You’ve made these two weeks magical and I don’t think I have ever been happier. I don’t want to leave.” You were the one to watch the candle melting now. With every drop of hot wax, you had less and less time together. It was closer and closer to the time of your departure. You felt unbounded sadness overflow you.

Harry looked at you and you could almost see gears turning in his head.

“Stay with me,” Harry asks you, staring right into your eyes, which were now staring back into his.

“What?” You ask confusingly.

“Stay with me. Don’t leave.” Harry spoke softer this time.

Harry knew it was a lot to ask of a stranger, but he also knew that you were far from being strangers after these two weeks full of tenderness and growing adoration for life. It felt like you’ve known each other in past lives. Like you were meant to meet in Rome and never part again.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and let yourself reach for his hand, which laid on the table.

“Stay with you?” You repeated his words under your breath.

“Stay with me.” Harry whispered. His face softened as he let his face come closer to yours with the table still between you.

You mirrored his actions and let your eyes fall on his pink lips. He noticed you looking and took it as a sign to come closer.

“I will stay.” You answered him. Your faces were a few inches away. When Harry heard you, his eyes went wide and he moved his face even closer to yours to a point where your lips were almost touching.

“May I?” He asked not allowing him lips to touch yours yet.

What a fucking man.

“Kiss me, you fool.” You spoke into his lips.

Harry chuckled, pushing his lips to connect them with yours.

Your kiss was interrupted by the waiter, who opened the curtains of the private booth. When he saw you kissing, he felt blood rush to his face.

“Oh, Io chiedo sinceramente scusa.“

The waiter seemed so flustered that he forgot all the little English he knew.

Harry moved away from you and turned to the waiter, who stood by the table with the receipt in his hand.

“Non ti preoccupare.” Harry spoke back to the waiter, surprising you both and reached for his wallet.

He placed his credit card in the receipt folder that the waiter passed him and thanked him, turning back to you.

“You speak Italian?” You asked him for completely bewildered by your new finding.

“That’s the Italian I know.” He smiled at you and reached for your cheek.

“That was so awkward, Harry.” You mumbled against his hand, closing your eyes in embarrassment.

“Oh, c’mon. Could it really be more awkward than trying to kiss properly with a table full of burning candles in our way?” He joked before pulling you closer and letting your laughter intertwine with his breath before continuing.

“Let’s pick it up where we left off now.”

——————————————————————————

Io chiedo sinceramente scusa. - I sincerely apologize.

Non ti preoccupare. - Don’t worry about it.

#harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles masterlist #harry styles blurbs #harry styles italy

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thatesqcrush · 4 years ago

Text

Change of Plans, Pt. 3

Rafael Barba x Reader. F/u piece to “Best Laid Plans.” For Kink Bingo: 69, which gives me one more complete row. My final piece for the kinkbingo challenge. I know kikntober is over, but hey lets give a welcome to kinkvember.

WC: 2805

AN: Another p*rn without plot. Like, pure filth.

CW: p in v sex, male & female receiving oral sex, dirty talk, an*l sex, this is MMF and MFM. Also language. NSFW, so heed those warnings.

Sleep befell you three quickly. In the morning, you woke up alone. The room still permeated with scent of sex. You stretched, arching your back and elongating your limbs, enjoying the way the expensive sheets felt against your naked body. You sat up, pressing the flat sheet against your body. You reached for your phone, to check for any messages.

The sound of the elevator arriving caught your attention and you quickly ran your hands through your hair, in an attempt to smooth out any bedhead. You smiled when you saw Rafael. He was holding a shopping bag and a tray of two large drinks, which you had hoped was coffee.

“Good morning.” Rafael greeted as he set the tray of coffee down. “Bryan took the liberty of sending for a new pair of shoes for you. He had to go into the office for a few hours but he plans to meet us for brunch. For now, it’s just you and I. I brought coffee. I thought we could go get whatever you needed for the weekend.”

“You are a godsend.” You exclaimed, wrapping your arms around Rafael and pulling hi into a hug. Rafael smelled like warm spicy citrus and just the scent alone evoked memories of the night prior. Your body ached in the best way.

Rafael nuzzled your cheek, before dipping his head to capture you lip with his. The kiss was soft and passionate, and warmth spread throughout your body, reigniting the fire from the night prior. Rafael slanted you head further, wrapping one hand around the nape of your neck, deepening the kiss. His other hand skated up your body, to the top of the sheet, pushing it down. That same hand then returned to the soft swell of your breast, squeezing. You let out a soft moan as your nipples tightened in response, eager for more.

The shrill of a phone ringing, interrupted the two of you. You both let out equal sounds of disappointment. Rafael looked at his phone and he answered it, standing. “Hola Yelina.”

You had taken enough Spanish to make out parts of his conversation – he was returning to New York the day after tomorrow – someone named Alex needed him. The tone of the conversation was stern and you could feel the tension as he clipped his responses. You climbed out of bed and figured which coffee was yours. You watched Rafael as you drank your coffee – his back was to you. Certain that the mood was spoiled, you took another swig of your coffee and then made way to the bathroom, the door closing with a soft click.

Twenty minutes later, you emerged from the shower feeling like a new person. You wrung your hair with the fluffy towel and found your clothes. You sniffed them – they would pass until you got home. Rafael was watching CNN, listening to Anderson Cooper talk about the upcoming election.

“Everything OK?” You asked as you found your jeans. You bounced in place, tugging the denim on.

Rafal looked up at you. “Of course; just some stuff from home. Nothing that can’t wait.” He stared at you intensely and you felt yourself blush under his gaze. You turned away to hide your discomfiture and instead focused your attention on the shopping bag. You opened the bag and took out the box – you let out a whistle at the pair of camel leather Nisolo smoking shoes. You knew the shoes were more expensive than you’d ever pay for yourself. You slipped them on and your feet were in heaven with the cushioned interior.

“Bryan did well.” You murmured to yourself. You finished getting dressed and used a claw clip to put your damp hair up.

“Ready to go?” Rafael asked. You nodded and as you both left, you didn’t miss how his hand wrapped around your waist.

The ride from the hotel to your apartment in East Hyde Park was not even thirty minutes. Rafael noted that the neighborhood had a strikingly serene setting considering that it was located in the middle of a large city such as Chicago. The neighborhood was bustling with young professionals. You gave Rafael a quick history lesson of the area – situated just south of Chicago's Loop, the area experienced rapid development in recent years, particularly in the South Loop neighborhood. The area boasted several historically-significant buildings and landmark districts. Cultural opportunities were abound, with various art galleries and museums were located in the area.

Rafael whistled at the lakeview you had from your apartment. “What a view.” Rafael complimented. You hummed in agreement, standing beside him, watching as waves of Lake Michigan crashed against the shoreline.

You turned back to pack some belongings for the weekend. You packed some clothes and then a lingerie bag with what you had that could pass off as your most sexy. You were pretty sure that it wouldn’t last long on you anyway, but you still wanted to wow them. You finished packing and then stripped to change into fresher clothes.

As you bent over to fish out another pair of jeans, you felt Rafael approach you from behind. He pressed himself against the curve of your ass, and you could feel his hardened cock. You stood straight, and Rafael pressed you flush against him. His lips ghosted the curve of your neck and you let out a small whimper of anticipation as he nipped your neck.

“Lets finish what we started before we were so rudely interrupted.” His voice was low and dangerous. Desire flooded your body once more. You turned around and stood on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck. Rafael’s green eyes were blown with lust. Rafael grabbed you by your thighs and hoisted you into his arms. You let out a squeal as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Rafael dropped you onto the bed, and you watched as he stripped his clothes. You eyed the large tent in his boxers, feeling your arousal flood between your thighs. You were already so wound up from earlier, you didn’t want to waste any time. You wanted his mouth, his cock, his hands on you and in you at once.

Rafael crawled up your body, kissing you passionately before working his way back down. He hooked his thumbs along the sides of your panties and tugged them. You raised your hips to help him remove them and he dragged the materials down your legs, before tossing them to the side. Rafael went to his knees, between your spread thighs. He pressed a kiss to each thigh before settling at your core, his breath ghosting over your clit, which was aching with need. Finally, Rafael dragged his tongue along your cunt, licking a broad stripe. His large hands held your thighs aside as he devoured you.

“Oh god, fuck, fuck!” You cried out, your hips undulating against his mouth.

“I fucking love this sweet little pussy.” Rafael mumbled before capturing your clit and sucking.

“I…I… want…” You had a hard time forming words as his tongue rolled over you repeatedly alternating with licks and sucks, causing your back to bow.

Rafael snaked a finger from beneath and slid it into you. He removed his mouth briefly to question you. “What do you want?” He took the opportunity to insert another digit inside of you.

“I… oh fuck!” You wailed as he curved his fingers, hitting that sweet spot. You pushed against his hand, trying to deepen his penetration. Your thighs trembled and you knew it would not take much longer to fall apart. You sucked in a breath. “To suck your cock.” You choked out.

Rafael removed his fingers completely and made a big show of sucking his fingers clean. You shuddered, watching him. “Then come sit on my face.” Rafael commanded, with an authoritarian tone that caused you to shudder. Rafael laid on the bed and he helped guide you over his face. Rafael pulled you down and returned to eating you out while you lowered yourself so you were face to face with his cock. Rafael massaged the flesh of your ass as his tongue lapped at your cunt. You pointed Rafael’s cock to your mouth and opened your mouth wide, feeling his erection push into the back of your throat. It was heavy and warm on your tongue as you wrapped your lips around him. Rafael paused again, letting out a hiss in response. You spluttered around his length as you bobbed rhythmically. Your bedroom was filled with the wet sounds of Rafael’s mouth and tongue on your pussy and your mouth on his cock.

“That’s it… suck that cock like a good little girl.” Rafael crooned before pulling your hips down onto his face even more, delving his tongue inside of you as far as it could go. It didn’t take you long to fall apart, with you crying his name. Coming only spurred you and you returned your attention to his cock fervently. You used your hand to jack his cock while you cradled and sucked his balls with your mouth and tongue. A rumble emanated from deep within Rafael. “Y/N, I am going to come!” You took him in your mouth once more, as deep as you could go and within moments you could feel his cock pulse and twitch, his seed spilling down your throat hot, salty, and thick.

Rafael grunted once more and then smacked your ass. You removed your mouth from his cock and swung your legs off of him. Rafael pulled you to him and you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, showing him how clean it was. He pulled you close to him and you dipped your head to his shoulder, pressing a kiss.

You both stayed there like that, wrapped in each other, with Rafael stroking your hair. Finally, Rafael looked at the clock on your wall. “We should get going – Bryan doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

You both arrived at the restaurant, choosing to sit outdoors, rather inside as it was unseasonably warm. The restaurant itself was one that was notorious for being obnoxiously hard to get into, with a waiting list that spanned months but one phone from Bryan had opened up seats easily.

Bryan arrived and he greeted you with an open mouth kiss and then one to Rafael. He looked at Rafael curiously and then at you. “I can taste her on your lips.” Bryan grinned wickedly. “Safe to say you already ate.” He quipped, causing you to choke on your water.

“Y/N, save the choking for later.” Bryan continued as he sat down.

“Don’t quit your day job.” You quipped right back, feeling your cheeks burn.

Rafael took the liberty of ordering ahead for the table. The fare was simple but flavorful - kale and cheddar quiche, country paté with pistachio and foie gras and vanilla bean pancakes with pure maple syrup and blackberry compote with copious amounts of coffee and cocktails to be had.

It felt strange to sit at the table while both men talked about work. It jarred you back to reality that whatever this weekend was – was just another marker – another notch of fun for them and come Monday you’d all be back to your respective lives. The air was fraught, the conversation a sign of things changing.

You toyed your empty wine glass and then cleared your throat. “Why don’t we go do something… fun?” You suggested.

Something flickered in Bryan’s eyes at your words. “I suppose we should. I’ll send for an Uber.”

Back at the hotel, each man took turns undressing you and then each other. The air was charged and hot. Bryan and Rafael each licked up the opposite slopes of your neck and you softly sighed, clutching onto each of their bodies.

You kissed each man and then sauntered over to the bed where you laid back and spread your legs. “Bryan…” You beckoned, curling your finger. Bryan approached the bed and went to his knees. His hands were on you, spreading you wider and rolled his tongue over your clit.

“Still so wet from earlier.” Bryan noted.

You threw your head back and your eyes fluttered closed as Bryan put his tongue to work on your pussy. The bed dipped and Rafael was at your tits, sucking on them and rolling your nipples with his fingers. You lost yourself in the pleasure and wrapped your fingers in Bryan’s dark hair, keeping him in place in between your thighs.

“Make me come Bryan.” You whined.

Bryan responded by going down on you with eager gusto, slipping a finger inside of you while sucking on your clit. You cried out and Bryan looked up. “Rafael, hook her legs up.”

Rafael did as told, holding your legs up to where you ears were. From that position, your ass was exposed. Bryan pressed his mouth to your puckered rosebud. He kept his tongue loose and open and used a lot of saliva. Bryan licked you up and down using his tongue and made a circular motion with it around and over. Meanwhile, Rafael reached below and used two fingers to rub concentric circles on your clit. Bryan spat on your puckered opening and inserted a finger inside of you. You let out a sob, feeling your orgasm peak and wash over you. Bryan moved his tongue from your ass to pussy, licking and sucking through your orgasm. Rafael kept rubbing your clit, occasionally pinching it gently. Another orgasm washed over you, and you came hard over Bryan’s face and Rafael’s fingers.

Bryan winked at Rafael as he lowered your legs back to the bed. Rafael was on Bryan instantly, kissing him. The two men rubbed their bodies against each other, each pumping one another’s cocks. You crawled between their lower halves and alternated sucking and jacking their cocks.

“Yes, suck his cock.” Bryan praised as you ran your tongue over the head of Rafael’s cock.

“You look so pretty with a mouthful cock.” Rafael complimented, his hand wrapped in your hair, guiding you. Bryan shifted and he joined you in sucking Rafael’s cock. You would pause to make out and then resume blowing Rafael.

Bryan stopped what he was doing and got the lube. He drizzled it over his cock and pumped it a few times, getting it good and slick. He motioned with his hand for Rafael to lay down and he did so. You watched as he slid into Rafael, buried to the hilt and then started to fuck into him with slow, steady thrusts. Bryan turned to you, stilling. “Climb up there sweetheart. Go ride that cock.” You grinned and moved to Rafael. An idea came to you, and you climbed onto Rafael. You slid onto Rafael easily, letting out an “oh” as he filled you up. You began rock and bounce on his cock, in tandem with Bryan’s thrusts. The tempos increased from you and Bryan as you chased your orgasms. Growling curses emanated from deep within from Rafael.

“So close, so close.” Rafael chanted. You bounced on his cock harder, your ass clapping on his thighs with every downstroke. As you all fucked, the voice of truth in your mind affirmed that these two men ruined you completely – there would be no normal after this – how could you go back to normal after this. With them all you knew was pleasure and decadence. You felt used and dirty, in the best way possible. Being their plaything was the best thing that had happened to you.

Bryan reached around you, finding your clit and rubbed. You stiffened, coming hard around Rafael’s cock, wailing both their names. Rafael let out a grunt coming hard inside you, so much that it seeped out of you while still connected. Bryan’s strokes broke and he pulled out, coming on your ass in white hot ropes.

You all collapsed in a mix of limbs and sweat. A goofy grin broke out on your face. “When can we do that again?”

“Dirty girl.” Bryan husked, nipping along the shell of your ear. He snaked his hand to your overstimulated cunt and cupped it possessively. You let out a soft moan and then turned to Rafael.

“Do you really have to go back?” You asked. The wistful look on you face turned into a haze of pleasure as Bryan sunk a finger in you.

“Lets not worry about that.” Rafael murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. His hand then slipped to your throat and he gently but firmly, squeezed.

Truth be told, both men didn’t want whatever this was to end. They just each wanted this for as much time they could carve out. Tomorrow would come soon enough. Today. Today and tonight was all they had. And for now, that would be enough.

FIN.

{Tag List} @madpanda75 @tropes-and-tales @delia26 @mgarner1227 @beardedmccoy @youreverycolor @neely1177 @the-baby-bookworm @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03 @beccabarba @garturbo @lovebennycolon @imjustreallynosy @sweetsummertime99 @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @annabelleb49 @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid @redlipstickandblacktea @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @misssirenlove @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @mishaissocoolike @thefanficfaerie @theenchantedgalleryofstories @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty @ktiz90 @evee87 @itsjustmyfantasyroom @blk0912 @detective-giggles @rampantmuses @jazzyjoi @caked-crusader @rachelxwayne @prurientpuddlejumper @lv7867 @permanentlydizzy @bisexual-dreamer02

#thatesqcrush kink bingo #rafael barba smut #bryan kneef smut #bryan kneef x reader #rafael barba x reader #bryan kneef imagine #rafael barba imagine

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sartle-blog · 4 years ago

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Reimaging a Renaissance Man: Leonardo da Vinci in Fate Grand/Order

(Source: Aniplex)

In Delightworks's mobile game Fate Grand/Order, you’re challenged to save the world with the help of historical figures and legends. In most cases, those historical figures turn out to be far different than you’d expect. Sometimes a person like the famous shogunate swordsman Okita Souji is changed to a female without explanation, but more often than you’d expect, the game is surprisingly clever in how it incorporates historical facts about the characters into their design. If you go into a history class and start to argue that King Louis XIV was secretly female, you might get kicked out. Looking past the anime images on the surface though, there is some art history to be learned from Fate.

(Source: Aniplex)

Leonardo da Vinci in particular is a great example of this. Leonardo is genderbent to be female, with the explanation that his search of perfection and beauty led him to redesign his body into the Mona Lisa. Also, she’s a little obsessed with the painting.

Left: Mona Lisa by Shimokoshi (image: Aniplex) Right: Mona Lisa by Leonardo da Vinci in the Louvre

Fate also features a lot of art, called “craft essences” that come with effects to assist you while equipped in battle. Most of which have no historical basis except for, obviously, the Mona Lisa.

(Source: Aniplex)

As a mobile game, Fate rotates time-limited events and one called “Da Vinci and the Seven Counterfeit Servants” featured three craft essences inspired by famous masterpieces. They were earned by collecting Leonardo’s famous manuscripts and counterfeits of all his masterpieces and writings.

Left: Maiden Leading Chaldea by pako (image: Aniplex) Right: Liberty Leading the People by Eugène Delacroix in the Louvre

Collecting Leonardo’s manuscripts rewarded you with Maiden Leading Chaldea inspired by Delacroix's Liberty Leading the People. In it, Liberty has been swapped out with Joan of Arc, referred to as Jeanne D’Arc in Fate, whose flag is as inspiring to your in-game army as Liberty’s was to France. In the bottom left, you can spot Gilles De Rais, who was a close ally of Jeanne, but this is the Bluebeard version of Gilles, not the noble warrior he was prior to Jeanne’s death. In history, Gilles de Rais was a companion-in-arms who fought alongside Joan of Arc. But after retiring from the military he became known for an interest in the occult and was convicted as a child serial killer. The story of his horrible murder spree was the inspiration for the Bluebeard fairytale.

On Jeanne’s right is Hans Christian Anderson who’s holding up papers in place of guns because words are his weapons and the pen is mightier - well you get the picture. In the back are other in-game characters, but neither have a historical counterpart, so moving on.

Left: The Merciless One by Aoi Tsukimoto (image: Aniplex) Right: Pietà by Michelangelo, in the Apostolic Palace

The counterfeit manuscripts give you The Merciless One, based on the Pietà by Michelangelo who was a close friend of Leonardo (in Fate lore not so much in real life). This features Jeanne D’Arc Alter who is a dark version of Joan of Arc. In the image she’s cradling the pre-Bluebeard version of Gilles de Rais, the noble warrior who fought bravely by her side. The art mirrors Jesus being held by Mary after his crucifixion with Gilles de Rais’s fall into evil.

Left: The Scholars of Chaldea by Cherokee (image: Aniplex) Right: The School of Athens by Raphael in the Apostolic Palace

The last famous art inspired craft essence of the event was The Scholars of Chaldea. You received this one by collecting fake copies of Mona Lisa, Self Portrait, and Vitruvian Man. This piece was inspired by the painting The School of Athens, but specifically just Plato and Aristotle in the back center. In it, Dr. Roman (your in-game boss essentially) and Leonardo are featured as the two great minds whose partnership will help save the world.

Leonardo Da Vinci also has two side quests focused on her, both of which, while fictional narratives, feature a few winks and nods to lesser-known facts and paintings from the artist’s life.

Tobias and the Angel by Andrea del Verrocchio in the National Gallery London

In the first, she’s traveling with you to London and casually mentions she was the model for the archangel Raphael in Verrocchio’s painting in the National Gallery. Based on that brief description it's most likely Tobias and the Angel to which she is referring. There’s no historical evidence to back her claim as a model but it's possible (the real-life) Leonardo did assist in the painting of the piece and if so it's his earliest work as a painter.

(Source: Aniplex)

You don’t get to visit the National Gallery to see the piece, instead you make your way to the British Museum to see Leonardo’s old friend “Mikey”. It’s the only appearance that Michelangelo makes in Fate so far, and Leonardo makes a point of saying that he’ll be unable to return in the future. She speaks of him fondly as a dear friend, calling him the other “uomo universale” but since he’s a lingering ghost and the game is mainly combat-based you do have to kill him. Rest in peace Mikey.

In real life, Leonardo da Vinci and Michelangelo were known rivals. Their best known interaction was a pair of commissions that put them in direct competition with each other. They were hired to paint battle scenes on the same wall of a Council Hall in Florence. Long story short, neither finished their work and they parted on unfriendly terms. But, it is thought that despite their rivalry they both had a private respect and appreciation for the other’s work.

Drawing of Michelangelo’s David by Leonardo Da Vinci in the Windsor Castle, The Royal Collection

At least on Leonardo’s side, we know Leonardo did a sketch of Michelangelo’s David for example. In Fate, Leonardo mentions more than once how much she admires David, but in real life Leonardo likened Michelangelo’s depiction of human musculature to a “sack of walnuts.” Maybe he meant that, maybe he was just bitter.

If Michelangelo ever drew any of Leonardo’s works we’ll never know since he torched most of his sketches right before he died. At the core of their interaction in Fate, Leonardo is basically saying that Michelangelo was the closest she ever had to a true equal to her level of genius, at least in the field of arts. That aspect might have held true for real-life Leonardo.

Virgin of the Rocks by Leonardo da Vinci in the Louvre

Leonardo’s second side quest focuses a lot on her mother and the painting Virgin of the Rocks. It’s not known if she’s talking about the one housed in the Louvre or the one in the National Gallery. She’s referring to both but mentions she can’t remember if one was painted by her apprentice. Based on the museums’ descriptions of the two versions, they were both done by Leonardo himself. She says that while painting the Madonna she found herself longing for her mother and that’s what prompted her to bring her mother to come stay with her in Milan.

Leonardo says this with a twinge of regret, remarking that by moving her mother to Milan she may have unknowingly shortened her life and caused her to fall ill. In actual history, there isn’t much known about Leonardo’s mother. He writes in his journal of a Caterina, who is strongly believed to be his mother, that visited him in Milan but died within a year. Her cause of death is also up for debate so the tragic narrative suggested by Fate’s Leonardo does seem to be a fictional invention. It’s been theorized by some that Mona Lisa is based off of Leonardo’s mother. When asked about this in Fate, she says no but adds she’s sure her mother had a wonderful smile.

In the side quest, Leonardo also mentions going way past the deadline for the commission of Virgin of the Rocks and getting really annoyed when she found out how much the patron wanted to pay for the piece. This has some historical basis, the description of the version in the National Gallery says it was possibly made to replace the original since Leonardo wasn’t paid adequately for the first and sold it elsewhere.

(Source: Aniplex)

Next in the side quest, you encounter Leonardo’s assistant Gian Giacomo Caprotti who she refers to as Salaì. How she describes him in the above image seems to be historically accurate. Salaì is a nickname that means “little devil” and he stole from Leonardo often. Leonardo da Vinci wrote of him frequently in his journal, mostly documenting what he broke and how much Salaì’s father would have to repay him.

Despite all of his antics, Salaì lived with Leonardo for thirty years and was even left half a vineyard in his mentor’s will. So when you run into his ghost in Fate, it's pretty clear Leonardo was hoping for a real reunion but since he’s an evil ghost who can’t talk you have to put him out of his misery just like with Mikey. Rest in peace little devil.

(Source: Aniplex)

Lastly, Fate introduced a second Leonardo Da Vinci, called Da Vinci Lily, and she is a reference to a unfinished masterpiece of Leonardo’s. This version is also known as Gran Cavallo, the name of a horse sculpture the real-life Leonardo was unable to ever complete.

(video source: Aniplex)

She’s also supposedly modeled off her childhood appearance... if Leonardo looked like the Mona Lisa as a child.

Design for a fighting vehicle by Leonardo da Vinci in the British Museum

Da Vinci Lily is in command of an armored vehicle called the Shadow Border. The Shadow Border, which was built/designed in part by Da Vinci, bears some similarity to an armored tank Leonardo designed in his journals.

Studies of Horses by Leonardo da Vinci in the Collection of the Royal Library, Windsor Castle

In real history, Gran Cavallo was to be the largest equine statue ever created, but at the time Leonardo’s attention was divided between The Last Supper and countless other projects. He created a clay model of the piece meant to be later cast in bronze, but French bowmen used it for target practice when they invaded Milan. He was never able to recreate it and the story goes he never stopped mourning the project.

Left: Bella Lisa by Simosi Right: Mona Lisa by Leonardo da Vinci in the Louvre

Da Vinci Lily also got her own version of the Mona Lisa, called Bella Lisa.

On the other end of the spectrum of historical accuracy in Fate, Thomas Edison is a lion, for reasons having nothing to do with his life or career. So while the same can’t be said for every Fate character, the design and writing around Leonardo da Vinci feels like a loving homage to the life and work of the universal genius.

By: Danielle DeVeaux

#leonardo da vinci #fate grand order #mobile games #art references #art in video games #art history #fun stuff #history of art #renaissance painters #mona lisa #michelangelo

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aflyingcontradiction · 4 years ago

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The Magnus Archives Relisten: Episode 116 - The Show Must Go On

I curse the name of Wolfgang von Kempelen and all his vile machinery, and there is no greater hope within me than that I should never again be required to lay eyes upon the Mechanical Turk. - Statement of Abraham Janssen

Have I mentioned that I love it when TMA just takes an actual person from actual history and goes "Ours now"? Cause I kinda do! (And for once, I was actually aware of the historical figure in question, or at least of the Mechanical Turk anyway).

For as long as I knew him, his manner caused me disquiet, and I attribute the continuation of our acquaintance in no small part to our difference in language.

Wow, that is quite a burn. "If we fully understood each other, I wouldn't be able to stand the guy."

Most notably, a grotesque speaking machine, that he insisted would someday be capable of mastering human speech. I saw many of his designs. The bellows that aped the work of lungs, the wooden box of valves and pipes, and that most grotesque mouth he had constructed of some awful undulating substance he claimed was derived from an Indian tree.

This is also based on models that von Kempelen actually created, though unfortunately I wasn't able to find a picture of what the one featuring an Indian rubber mouth (which also apparently actually existed at one point) looked like and whether it was actually anywhere near as bizarre as TMA makes it sound.

Its coat was not as I had seen it, the fine fur now gone, and in its stead something hairy, coarse, and brown that hung loosely about its shoulders.

Wait, is this the gorilla skin?

A long, curved sword was gripped in its rigid fingers, the point aimed squarely at the chessboard in the table before it.

This moment, just before the death, was actually more horrifying than the actual stabbing of the person presumably still among the Turk's gears.

The sightless men, and the unknown soldier in his bloodied uniform...

I just wanted to point out that I wonder whether the use of the phrase "the unknown soldier" was deliberate here, a subversion of "the unknown hero who died for his country" to "the unknown killer who killed to sate his bloodlust" ... it just made me go "Huh, I wonder if this was accidental".

Elias: Excellent. Well, it’s a three-hour trip up to Great Yarmouth. I had Rosie book you all into a bed-and-breakfast near the museum. (...) Oh, that reminds me. Make sure you keep any receipts for expenses, assuming you wish to claim them back.

I love the nonchalant organisational efficiency here. "I found a lovely bed-and-breakfast where you can stay the night before YOU RISK YOUR LIFE TO STOP THE END OF THE WORLD! Make sure to submit the paperwork for the expenses on time."

Jon: And assuming we don’t, you know, die. Elias: Yes. If you die, I’m afraid you probably won’t be able to claim your expenses.

I like how he sticks the 'probably' in there because, well, you never know...

My impression of this episode

This one was certainly quite memorable - it takes a while to get going, but the description of the Unknowing 1.0 is weird and terrifying and confusing, just as it should be. And then there is the post-statement conversation, featuring a lot of hints at future plot but also a whole lot of character building, both of which I enjoy.

Favourite quotes

But the chair was nothing but a stone, and his face was too much of skin not to scream.

Nothing was anything, and nobody was what they did not pretend to be.

#tma relisten #the magnus archives

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springfieldblues · 4 years ago

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my long ass review for S32E03 Now Museum, Now You Don’t

warning: LONG because i rambled about history more than i thought i would

id been looking forward to this one because i like art history, especially after seeing how they tried their best to stick to historical accuracy in the previous episode I, Carumbus. this time however….they didnt try that hard. i dont know why i thought theyd go through that sort of trouble again LMAO

but its okay, i dont really expect the simpsons to be the paragon of historical accuracy or anything. especially in anthology episodes told through a particular character's lens (in this case, lisa, whos already feverish so whatever)

first i just wanna say that this is, i guess, less of a review and more of an accidental list of history fun facts. so im just gonna get my general thoughts out of the way first.

the episode was fun! to me at least haha. i mean it got me to think and do a lot of research on my own so that must count for something. besides a couple of really weird ones, the jokes were good. anthology episodes tend to be….not that good but i thought this one was one of the better ones so far. idk.

anyway on to lisanardo da vinky its the renaissance! jesus christ the italian accents in the beginning of this segment were annoying as hell but i also feel like that was the joke lmao. ill be real i kind of tuned out for a second there when grampa started rambling so idk what he said.

i told myself i wouldnt get nitpicky with historical accuracy if the jokes were funny (final edit: so that was a lie) but this meh bit with the pizza guys and mascots was really not worth ignoring the fact that its impossible for italy to have any tomato-based food in the 15th century (tomatoes were brought to europe from the americas in the 16th century, and pizza as we know it today—flatbread, cheese, tomato—originated in the late 18th century)

oh this next part was kind of legit tho. lisanardo, like the real leonardo, became andrea del verrochio's apprentice at his workshop. i loved this next bit:

"Whoever paints the sweetest cherub will have the honor of having MY name signed on their work. That's what great artists do!"

SO YEAH as it turns out, lisanardo painted the sweetest cherubs. the painting here is called The Baptism of Christ, and the real leonardo assisted verrochio in finishing it. specifically, he painted the cherubs in the corner.

this causes verrochio to quit and go someplace with less talented people: a music school (yes, verrochio did quit painting after getting owned by young leo and his mad angel painting skills. he never did anything with music tho, he was more of a sculptor)

alongside lisanardo, in mr largo-verrochio's workshop we have barticelli (botticelli bart), dolphatello (donatello dolph), ralphael (raphael...ralph) and mediocrito (no one that i know of. sorry milhouse) (and kearney i guess but they dont refer to him by name). botticelli and donatello are said to have also been apprentices at verrochio's workshop, but raphael came a couple of decades later so he couldnt have been there. and donatello was too old so that claim is a bit questionable. but anyway

it IS true that leonardo's peers envied him, to the point where he was anonymously and purposefully accused of being gay (a major crime punishable by death in 15th century florence) while he was still working at verrochio's workshop

we are then treated by what im pretty sure is the fourth time the show has used 'at seventeen' by janis ian, this time sung by a dejected lisanardo (man they really do keep making yeardley sing these days huh) who only wishes to be appreciated and not envied.

"I'll show them all! I'll show them all in a secret diary that no one will decipher for 400 years!"

some of lisanardo's future inventions. who wouldve known

so after barticelli, for some reason (revenge??? or something?? what was his plan here idgi) steals lisanardo's diaries full of blueprints of her inventions and takes them to mr burns who i have to assume is pope alexander VI here, they decide to use her inventions for war.

"With these, we can kill the most evil people in the world!! ....Slightly different Christians."

leo actually did this of his own accord. im surprised this is what they decided to do with lisanardo instead of talking about leo's love of nature and vegetarianism (not a single mention of that in this episode? come on...) then again, trying to do good only to end up indirectly making things worse is a very standard lisa storyline. i guess they didnt want to miss the chance to have evil pope burns (very fitting, especially for that era since they were all about money and controlling the people)

so lisanardo decides to leave for france, unlike the real leonardo who was more or less persuaded by his ultimate fanboy king francis I to move to france.

"Lisanardo, I have many questions. Why are you hitting yourself? A nerd says 'what'? And how is it possible that I am rubber and you are glue? Et cetera, et cetera."

that line may seem a little random, like hes just nelson saying nelson things (and i mean, obviously he is) but the real francis also "had an unquenchable thirst for learning, and Leonardo was the world’s best source of experimental knowledge. He could teach the king about almost any subject there was to know, from how the eye works to why the moon shines." so yeah, he did have many questions and lisanardo, finally being appreciated for her intellect, was happy to answer them all. its very interesting how lisa assigned this role to nelson in her retelling of da vinci’s life :^)

and so she lived the rest of her days in france, nat king cole's 'mona lisa' plays because duh, and they make a da vinci code reference because duh. and the segment ends. and not a single time did they show the actual mona lisa painting. the fuck?

(ngl i was fully expecting bart to say 'leonardo da vinky' for a second here)

so this next segment is about french impressionist painters, most likely the batignolles group, a name adopted by the early representatives of impressionism. its much more vague than the lisanardo segment since no one here is referred to by name (except moe, more on him in a sec) but i dont feel like it really matters in this case. bart is prrrrooobably claude monet but its hard to say, this segment is kind of a mish-mash of a lot of things. also i gotta say i really liked how lisa introduced the story to bart with an 'if you hate the formal study of art' and not 'if you hate art' because thats exactly my headcanon. i LOVE the concept of artist bart and whenever its referenced it just makes perfect sense to me.

anyway the segment opens in 1863 at the école des beaux-arts (back then it was actually known as the académie des beaux-arts), preserver of traditional french art styles. skinner reviews his students’ paintings one by one. praises the plain, unimaginative paintings depicting your typical european countryside landscapes. very run-of-the-mill (haha get it...cuz theres….a windmill) (although the real académie didnt approve of such basic stuff, they wanted artists to draw epic historical and mythological scenes) then he gets to barts painting and he gives him an F- because the painting made him think.

(the paintings in this scene arent real famous paintings as far as i know but they are inspired by real paintings enough to get the point across)

in comes barney dressed as bacchus as a model for the students to sketch, which i just loved:

barney: “You prefer robe open or robe off?” skinner: “Just cover your privates with this walnut shell.” barney: “Whoa!!! So roomy!”

skinner gasps in horror at bart’s sketch, which “looks nothing like him” and bart explains that “it shouldn’t; we’re making the art that we feel because we can’t compete with a camera.” damn, you go bart. take that, realism. draw what you feel!!

(also no, you didnt need to hold still for 17 hours for a daguerreotype. 30 min tops.)

nelson haw-haw of the week: FOIE-gras!

so here they are at the moulin rouge (“enjoy it before baz luhrmann ruins it” hey shut up. i love that movie), which wouldnt be built for another 26 years, but it is the most widely known gathering place for bohemians in the public consciousness so i can understand why they went with the moulin. nelson delivers this anachronistic line:

“This époque keeps getting beller and beller!”

which alludes to la belle époque, the golden age of france usually dated from 1880 to 1914. made me snort so ill let that slide

and heres moe! as henri de toulouse-lautrec, who was actually born a year after the year this segment is set in. yo moe szyslak he was just 1

toulouse-moetrec introduces himself as the chronicler of the demimonde (not an actual job). an iconic figure associated with the moulin rouge (largely due to his affinity for alcohol and prostitutes), toulouse-lautrec was also a painter, having illustrated a series of posters for the moulin himself. he simply had to be in this segment, anachronisms be damned, just because they decided to include the moulin. cant have one without the other.

and yes he did have a walking cane where he kept his liquor.

i love how everyone drinks absinthe in this place. theyre bohemians what else would they drink

toulouse-moetrec points out that barts paintings are the greatest thing hes ever seen (and hes seen like five things!) and that hes a genius. milhouse realizes that they should stop doing what the teacher says and use their own minds to instead...start doing what bart says lmao. to the easels!

next we have skinner hyping up chalmers about the art his students made for the salon de paris, an art exhibition that the emperor of france will attend. he assures him that none of these paintings will encourage debate, provoke thought or be out of place at a dentist’s office. when they unveil the art, theyre both SHOCKED at how scandalous the paintings actually are.

this reaction was kind of accurate. impressionism was severely rejected at the salon de paris, due to paintings not looking finished enough to them, they thought they were ugly and vulgar for depicting nudity in a contemporary setting (historical and mythological nudity was fine). these impressionist paintings were sent to the salon de refusés, which is. yeah. the place where they sent the rejects. the salon de refusés does not make an appearance but this scene makes a reference to it when the artists get expelled from the royal salon. also:

“What about our student loans?” “Oh they’ll be refunded. We are not barbarians, I mean, come on.”

(god if only)

so the painters are down because they want the emperor to actually see their paintings. toulouse-moetrec pipes in once again with an idea.

“There is one thing the emperor loves more than anything.” “France?” “No, he hates France.”

apparently the emperor really loves cheese, which makes sense since its napoleon III (who loved cheese) and homer (who loves cheese.) so the painters roll into the salon inside a giant wheel of cheese (obviously.) as lenny said, “Eh, you know French cheese. Very runny.” napoleon III chases after the wheel into a room, where the wheel falls apart after getting chomped on by the emperor. now that they got his attention, the painters proudly show the emperor their impressionist art, which he couldnt be more indifferent about because he just wants to eat his cheese dammit, and he awards them with the royal medallion just to kind of get them out of his way. skinner immediately starts kissing ass (as he does) until marge’s like ‘hey wait a minute. you expelled these students from the royal salon’ and an executioner immediately starts ominously measuring skinners neck.

“Uh, sir...is your tongue sticking out because you’re dead or because you’re mad at me?”

and thats the end of that lmao (gore in this episode, gore in the last episode, and next week we’re getting gore too cuz its THOH, what the hell is goin on)

we get a short intermission with maggie, who wants a story for her too! lisa tells her that renaissance artists loved to put babies in their paintings, especially baby angels.

here she is showing her The Triumph Of Galatea by raphael:

King David Playing The Harp by peter paul reubens:

and a very simplified version of pretty much any depiction of hell by hyeronimus bosch lmao:

not much else to say about this one, really. but i really liked that sky!

the last segment is about frida kahlo and diego rivera. or as bart puts it ‘the one about a fat guy whos wife is too good for him.’ i was REALLY looking forward to this one because i love frida and i thought itd be a cool opportunity for animators to go bonkers and do really cool shit with her art as inspiration…..but the segment is not about frida, its about diego and his selling out to capitalism. and its also yet another story with homer and marge drama. no funky cool animation here. sigh i guess i’ll take it

the story begins in 1929 at la casa azul, frida’s home (now museum dedicated to her life and work.) frida and diego are getting married. this courtyard definitely did not look this way yet back in 1929. also theres something very cringy yet funny about lovejoy saying spanish words the way he does, i honestly cant decide how i feel about that one

the writers know theyre being cringy with their gringoness so they go along with it.

moe: “Spanish for ‘best wishes’!” mel: “Spanish for ‘congratulations’!” bumblebee man: “Spanish for ‘muy bueno’!”

OH YEAH BUMBLEBEE MAN this is his new voice actor, eric lopez! hes not mexican but its still great to finally have a latino actor voicing a latino character and hes very excited to be part of the show so i hope to hear more of him!! im rooting for him

el barto/zorro makes an appearance which i am very confused about. he has jack shit to do with frida and diego and mexico in the 20s-30s. el zorro was set in the spanish california of the early 19th century. their use of the original theme song makes me think they just wanted to flex their disney privileges tbh

lets not talk about that that whole scene was bad

anyway diego announces he and frida are going to new york, without even asking her first. frida is obviously pissed.

“Don’t worry, as a woman, you’ll be treated with much more respect in America.”

so in new york, diego is having a bit of a business meeting with mr burns as one of the members of the rockefellers, who is commissioning him to draw a mural for the rockefeller center. its kinda funny how he refers to him and frida as socialists even though they were very much communists lmao its okay you can say it. ok so far, but then frida says ‘yes, we hate the capitalists! right now, a young socialist is being born who will take them down! mr. bernie sanders. i hope hes quick about it’ and that was a simple enough joke and couldve been left at that but then its immediately followed by this weird as fuck family guy-esque cutaway gag to bernie as a baby:

“Getting a cootie shot should not cost your lunch money. And if you don’t listen to me, listen to the Bernie Babies! What? Everybody’s got goons.” *larger babies start beating up this other baby* “I disavow that, and welcome it.”

this confused me so much that i had to ask one of my american friends to help me understand, but even she was like ‘uhhh yeah thats a weird joke,’ especially now that hes been out of the race for months (then again these episodes take almost a year to produce. i guess they couldnt be bothered to replace it with something more relevant.) whatever that was weird and confusing and unfunny moving on

frida is pretty irked that diego is going through with this deal. after all, it goes against everything they believe in. im not sure how the real frida felt about diego doing the mural, but she did feel a bit of rage during her visit to the united states, especially the obvious disparity between rich and poor. she hated having to interact with capitalists and found americans very boring. in this segment, frida seems to be acting more like the american communist party, which diego got kicked out of for accepting commissions from wealthy patrons. in any case, frida is pretty upset about this whole thing.

and finally we get the first and only kind of surreal frida moment. kinda. maybe. its more cartoonish than anything but im desperate ok

interesting how they felt like they had to add a “don’t smoke” in big letters after showing patty and selma flying away on their giant cigarettes. i wonder if this is something theyre making them do now? i remember hearing something about them toning down patty and selma’s smoking

diego comes home to frida, drunk as hell, followed by the marx brothers. i cant believe they didnt make a marxism joke come on it was RIGHT THERE. THE MARX BROTHERS. KARL MARX. COME ON

frida paints her feelings.

this makes diego realize that frida is a genius and he is not half the artist she is. he proclaims he will now show his awe of her by sleeping with other women, starting “an hour ago.” to which frida replies, “and i will start sleeping with other women, starting two hours ago.” yes this was pretty much their relationship. though im just wondering how the hell did diego not know frida was this kind of artist until now? i know homers an idiot but jeez. art was how frida and diego met, diego knew from the get-go that frida was an incredible artist. i guess the fame got to his head or something. again, homer just being stupid.

“well enough already, while the art is still deco, okay?”

its time for the mural diego painted, Man At The Crossroads, to be unveiled:

rockefeller examines it. good and great so far, and then...uh oh

“Who’s that fellow…? With the beard, and the bolshevik smile…” “That’s the founder of Soviet Russia, Lenin!”

“B-b-but he’s a communist!” “Oh he just attended a couple of meetings.”

rockefeller will not have this communist in the temple to capitalism that is the rockefeller center, so he orders diego to paint over it. diego stands his ground and refuses. despite rockefeller’s threats, diego says that theres only one person he wants to be proud of him no matter what and in true homer & marge fashion, frida is touched by this. they happily leave the rockefeller center.

now, the real story of Man At The Crossroads and the rockefeller center was actually not that different. as soon as the rockefellers found out diego had snuck in a portrait of lenin into the mural, they ordered him to paint over it, to which he refused. diego even offered to include abraham lincoln and even american abolitionists in the mural as a compromise, but the rockefellers simply did not want any references to communism whatsoever. they did not complain about the hammer and sickle, though. yes, they did know diego was a communist and hired him anyway. what did they expect? lmao. diego said:

"Rather than mutilate the conception [of the mural], I shall prefer the physical destruction of the conception in its entirety, but preserving, at least, its integrity."

so they decided to destroy the mural before it was even finished and they never talked to each other again.

diego then repainted the mural at the palacio de bellas artes back in mexico, this time known as Man, Controller of the Universe. this new version included even more communist leaders and a depiction of john d. rockefeller jr. drinking at a nightclub, right underneath a depiction of syphilis bacteria. cue nelson haw-haw:

this was the version they used in the episode also, since the original was, well, never finished and also destroyed. only a black and white photograph of it exists, taken by diego before it was destroyed so he could remake it.

right so, homer!diego then pulls a Barthood and finishes the episode with a large mural summarizing the entire episode. he says some rick and morty thing i didnt get because i dont watch the show idk idc

the end

ALRIGHT NOW ITS TIME FOR THE STORY OF VINCENT VAN MOE

#if you read all of this bless you #the imageless gdocs version of this is 8 pages long #hope you...enjoy?!?! these art history fun facts?!?!#dont let me do something like this again but also let me know if i should do something like this again #i was really only motivated to do this because im already passionate about the subject so idk if i could do it otherwise #anyway. this took me all day yesterday because the power kept going out #but im finally done #bye

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bangtan-madi · 4 years ago

Text

All Of Our Lifetimes — Eight: Camera Shutter

Pairing — Taehyung x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Taehyung, husband!Taehyung reincarnation au, lovers to strangers and to lovers again, established relationship, implied soulmate au

Genre — fluff, angst, crime (ish)

Word Count — 4.2k

Summary — Does love ever truly end, or does it simply take another form in a new life? The cycle is like clockwork: your lives end and you’re reborn again. You’ve lived it over and over. Each cycle, one of you loses your memories and is tragically unaware until the other finds and awakens their lover. After all these eons, all these lifetimes, is it possible to find each other again—even when neither of you awakens with your memories?

Part — 8 / 15

Warnings — language, stalking

Previous — Next

The first item in the box a plastic bag. From the label of the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency on the surface, the Korean Eagle's wings spread over the mugunghwa flower, you sense that this item is from the very end of the story. The inside is full of clothing articles. Even without opening it, you see a suede trench coat, a dark sweater, and a purple scarf. Another bag has a pair of men's boots, dark slacks, and a button-down dress shirt. All of the items are covered in blood.

Taehyung takes the other bag, the one with the men's clothing, and closely inspects the label on the surface. Your eyes remain intent on the lavender scarf. Something about the item causes your heart to ache, and you replay your nightmare over in your mind in an attempt to identify it.

"Look here," he murmurs, pointing to one of the lines on the plastic. Glancing over, you see that a name is scribbled on the surface.

His name.

You should be shocked, but at this point, the number of odd coincidences that have come up the border on the insane. Instead, your gaze shifts to the bag in your lap. In your heart, you already know what name you'll see. The other Taehyung didn't reveal his wife's name in his portraits; he only referred to her as the sunlight through the rain.

Kim [Y/n].

Taehyung glances at the name, tilting his head slightly in the process. Heaving a sigh, he glances up to you. "I guess that settles it, then?"

You push the crime scene bag further away on the table, motioning for the box instead. "Let's keep going."

Between the two of you, the rest of the contents of the box are divided and browsed through in less than a half-hour. The box has everything from personal items to jewelry to documents and all sorts of things in between. It's surprisingly little for what Ms. Jwa stated it was, the entirety of Taehyung and [Y/n]'s life.

Like everything in Seoul, there's a familiarity that envelopes you. It's more than just that, though. You feel as if these things belong to you. In some strange way, you feel like you've caught a little piece of home. As bizarre as it is, with Taehyung beside you and these belongings strewn across the table, you feel a sense of peace wash over you.

Peace and closure.

Closer to the bottom, you find a handful of items that appear much older than the 80s and 90s memorabilia. A silver hairpin with an intricate swan on one end and a key-like appearance at the other, a series of handwritten notes dated around the time of the Korean War, and a pair of tiny shoes that look like they once belonged to a small child. The bottom of the shoes have the inscription of the name Kim Sung-ki, and the dates 1905 — 1909. Surely, these items couldn't have been the Kim's. Maybe they belonged to their parents or grandparents?

As you're occupied with the tiny, children's shoes, Taehyung retrieved the last item from the very bottom of the crate. It's a smaller, metal box sealed with a lock. The brunet looks around for a key, mumbling to himself under his breath.

You shake your head slightly and place the shoes to the side. "Here," you reply, picking up the oddly-shaped hairpin and offering it to Taehyung. "Try this? It looks sorta like a key at the smaller end, doesn't it?"

He tilts his head, eyes glancing over the item in your hand before he takes it. He places the pin into the lock, gives it a slight turn, and watches in awe as the lock pops open.

The silence continues as Taehyung removes the metal lid. Inside, you see two distinct items: a photobook and a film reel. Reaching first for the photobook, you scoot your bench closer to Taehyung's so that you can both peer inside at the same time.

The first page says that the book belongs to Kim Taehyung. It gives his address, an apartment not far from where you are now, and his contact information at work, aka the Museum you're under right now. The second page gives the first date, only the year of 1975. The handful of pages that follow are filled with polaroid photographs. Some blurry and out of focus, but always of the beauties of daily life. There are even one or two of Kim Taehyung himself.

The man in 1975 is young, probably not even twenty. Despite the different era, it's clear to both of you that he's the same man as the one sitting beside you.

Half of the photobook is more of the same, covering the latter part of the 70s and most of the 80s. Daegu and the Korean countryside seem to have been his home for most of his childhood, teenage years, and early twenties. His art has a veil of innocence and peace about it.

As the years progress, Kim Taehyung's photography skills become more refined and his camera quality improves. The digital era of the early 90s is when you truly see him start to take off. From 1985 onward, there are images of downtown Seoul; he must have moved sometime in that year. A plethora of urban photographs follow, as well as images of his work for the Museum.

In 1994, the images slowly shift from everyday life and scenic landscapes to a woman. Pieces of her are everywhere this year. Like the Museum, this private gallery has mostly aesthetic snapshots that make it hard to tell who she is. However, every few pages, there's a full portrait of this person, this woman who's caught Kim Taehyung's attention.

And she is you.

The last photograph is once again a polaroid. It's of Kim Taehyung and Kim [Y/n] sharing their first Christmas together. Snow flurries everywhere around Taehyung as he struggles to hang the lights on the small apartment window. His face is hidden by a familiar purple scarf, and it's turned in the direction of the camera. A hand adorned with a wedding band reaches out to him.

"Is this the person you've seen in your dreams?" Taehyung inquires, pointing a slender finger towards the last image.

Biting your lower lip, you nod once. "That's him, exactly like that."

Taehyung glances at you, dark eyes focusing intently on your face. "I don't think there's any denying it anymore. Too many things have added up. The timeline, the appearances, your dream...even finding each other in Seoul, at the Museum of all places, no one can convince me those are all coincidences."

"So...what does that mean?"

Your companion flips the pages back to the clearest portrait of the other Kim Taehyung and Kim [Y/n]. "I think—I know that in another lifetime, you and I were these two people." There's a pause as he takes a deep breath, nervousness filling his baritone voice. "What about you? What do you believe?"

Despite your shaking hands and quiet voice, you clear your throat and muster the courage to turn and return his gaze. "I've known you my entire life—and I think before it, too—so this feels more like a confirmation than a discovery."

Taehyung's hand flinches, and for a second you think he's going to reach for yours, but he pulls away and diverts his attention to the photobook. "Where does that leave us?"

"Maybe...Maybe we can see what's on the film? Maybe the Kims left us answers."

The brunet hops up from his seat, hair hiding his face as he pulls the reel from the metal box. "There's no projector. Do you think the Curator has one somewhere around here?"

Following his lead, you go back to the cabinets in search of the device. Finding nothing in any of them, you venture back into the warehouse. In the back, next to the cases of historical films, you find exactly what you're looking for. A huge grin spreads across your face as you trudge back to Taehyung, the surprisingly heavy device in your arms.

"Will this—oof—ah shit, don't fall! Will this work?"

Taehyung chuckles as you try to balance the item in your arms, haphazardly trying to keep it from falling. "That's perfect." He quickly takes it from your grasp. "So long as you don't drop it."

Heat rises in your face, and you pat your chilly palms against your cheeks as Taehyung sets up the device.

"Hit the lights," he asks over his shoulder as he places the reel onto the side of the projector.

As darkness descends, the gears begin to turn. Images flicker to life, grainy and dim against the empty wall. Taehyung sits cross-legged on the floor, and you join him. The tiny date stamp in the corner marks December 8, 1993, 12:01 A.M.

A woman sits in front of the camera. Though the area around her is hardly lit, there's an obvious ambiance of a hotel room. There are two beds, and she sits on the one nearest to the large window. Travel guides are strewn across the bed, along with a small suitcase and purple scarf.

The lone figure appears to be distressed; her hair is in disarray and her clothes are rumpled. The bags under her eyes show her exhaustion, and the way the room is hardly set up tells that she's only just arrived. She bites her lower lip in anticipation, a small smile crossing her face as she stares ahead into the camera.

There's no possibility that anyone could miss the resemblance between you two. Her hair is styled in a typical 90s fashion, and her clothes would now be considered retro, but the face is the same. Even if a bit more aged.

"I made it to Seoul," she sighs. "Finally."

Her voice even sounds like yours. It has an American lilt that's unmistakable.

"Shit, what timezone am I in? What time is it?" She glances down at her watch, which is no help due to travel. With an eyeroll, she turns her head towards an unseen clock on a nearby wall. "And it's my birthday. Happy birthday to meee." Though she draws out the last word sillily, her voice is quiet and disparate.

"I'm thirty-seven today. Thirty-seven." The other [Y/n] stares up at the ceiling for a moment. "I don't know why I'm making this now. I just...turned on the camera and hoped for the best, I guess?" She turns back towards the camera. "I wanted—I was hoping to document my search in Korea. Going to Europe, to France, that did nothing. He wasn't there...he never is...but damn it. I was hoping something would be different this time around. And getting into South Korea was near impossible, and I'm only here for a few weeks at a time due to my job..." She trails off, then pats her cheeks in an attempt to get her to focus.

"I'm not making any sense. Let me start over." As she straightens, [Y/n] takes a deep breath. "I'm making this mostly for the one that comes after me. This means if you're watching this, then I've already died." A sad smile tugs at her lips. "Not a fun thought, but that's reincarnation for you. I wanted to film this lifetime as much as possible so that the next time around, you don't have to wait so damn long to find each other. Next time, it can be faster. Next time, you won't waste all these years looking for each other."

She adjusts her position on the bed as she continues. "Every time Taehyung and I die, we're reborn into new bodies and new lives. It's been this way for centuries, but I'll get into the origins and the why's later. For now, all you need to know is that when you—when we die, that's not the end. Never is for us. I don't know about others.

"The next thing you need to know is that it's never as easy as retaining your memories. When you're reborn, you forget everything. All about your previous life, all the lives you had before, they're all gone. That is, until one of you turns twenty-one. That day is special for reasons I won't go into; just trust me on this one.

"Every other lifetime, one of you will remember at age twenty-one. Taehyung and I have alternated this story for lifetime upon lifetime. Last time, he was the one that woke up and found me. He had to get me to remember who I was, who he was, who we were, and everything after that. Once you find each other, the memories will start to come back. Given time and self-discovery, you will both remember. And no, it's nothing as cliche as true love's kiss or some bullshit like that."

She laughs softly, and shakes her head. "Taehyung found me last time, so this time it's my turn. I got some of my memories back when I turned twenty-one, and they've been showing up in dreams ever since. Slow at first, always the same one—the events that led up to my death—and then they started piling up. I knew I had to find him; he won't reawaken without me. And if one of us dies without remembering?" She shivers at the thought. "I don't know what might happen. Will that break the cycle? What happens if we both die at the same time? I don't have those answers. All I know is that once I had a name a little over two years ago, I've searched the world far and wide. South Korea is the only place left to look. I have plans to get to Daegu one of these days, and Seoul is massive, but things are still tricky here so I can only stay for small spurts."

There's a long pause where she stares out the dark window, shoulders sagging and eyes downcast. "I have a name now. I can feel him so close. Everything about Seoul is terrifyingly familiar. He has to be here. He has to be. Otherwise..."

The camera turns black, and the film reel keeps rolling. New images appear, B-roll from [Y/n]'s travels around Seoul. The city in its late 20th Century splendor is a welcome sight.

The next lengthy shot is of [Y/n]. She's turned the camera towards herself, an awkward angle on such an old device. "I looked for two weeks. Didn't really come up with anything, but I'll be back next month. Maybe the new year will do me good." She forces a smile, and the camera turns towards Incheon International Airport. "Cheers to 1994."

The projector ticks on, and a black screen flashes before the next shot. The timestamp says January 15, 1994, 3:34 p.m. [Y/n] sits on the balcony of the same hotel. She turns the camera around to view the city before settling it on the table to film herself.

"I've decided to move to Seoul," she announces. "Quit my job last week. I'll be moving here permanently once my visa is approved. There's a much better chance of finding him if I stay for longer than a few days." She wags her finger in the direction of the camera. "Kim Taehyung, if you're watching this, you're damn near impossible to find. Maybe try making yourself easier to find next time?"

Both she and you give a small chuckle at the same time. Easier? That he most certainly did.

The montage that follows is of the Seoul Museum of Art—the exterior, the interior, and the people. From behind the camera, [Y/n] says, "This view might be familiar to you next time. I got a job as a curator. Finally, a way to put my art degree to good use!"

Cut to a week later. [Y/n] records from a new location, one you assume is her new home in Seoul. Her face is drained of color, and her eyes are wide and watery. She stares ahead, not focusing on anything in particular, letting a small laugh slip out.

"I...I finally found him. T—Taehyung. Holy shit, I can't believe it. After all these years, of all the places he could've been, he's been under my nose this whole time."

Shaking her head, she tries to get a semblance of focus back. "Sorry, I'm not making sense. Taehyung's a curator and artist at the Museum I started working at yesterday. I didn't meet him my first day because he was out, but when he came in today, I just about collapsed. I couldn't believe it. I still can't."

A tear slips from her eye, and she wipes it away quickly with the back of her hand. A smile spreads across her face, one of relief and joy and peace. "He doesn't remember me, but that's okay. I didn't expect him to. That'll come in time. At least...At least I have him back. The rest can work itself out."

The clips that follow are sporadic and unplanned. Clips of [Y/n] and her companion at the Museum, at cafes, on the streets of Seoul. You never quite see either of their faces, but from the voice, you know it has to be Taehyung. From the laughter and flirty-aura around the various conversations, you realize that these videos—which span the time from winter to spring—are the months that they fell in love.

Towards the end of the last small clip in the montage, [Y/n] is filming the skyline from her apartment. The night is dark, but the buildings twinkle like stars. "Look how stunning Seoul is," she murmurs.

A voice from behind her says, "Not as stunning as you, Jagi."

[Y/n] gives a hearty laugh. "If you keep saying cheesy things like that, I might just film you."

"Against my will?" Taehyung gasps playfully.

His companion turns the camera towards the interior of the apartment. Reclining in the chair across the space, Taehyung holds a book in one hand. His attention is split between it and the camera.

Once again, you're taken aback by the resemblance between both this person and your dreams, as well as with the man sitting silently beside you. Glancing sideways, you look at Taehyung for the first time since the projector came to life. He hasn't uttered a word, and his dark orbs are glued to the wall.

"You say you hate being filmed, but you're too pretty not to, Tae."

"I'm an artist. I prefer being behind the camera."

"But you're art, too!"

Taehyung scoffs, shaking his head as his gaze evades the camera.

Another cut to black, then [Y/n] appears again. It's a month after the previous scene, and she breathes a heavy sigh from her usual spot in front of the camera.

"I told him everything," she murmurs, running a hand through her hair. "I don't think he believes me. He's remembering some things, I can tell that much, but he's still not quite there. It might take time, but I—I don't want to lose him between now and then." She shakes her head and lowers her face into her hands. "Did I speak too soon?"

Another pair of scenic shots later, and [Y/n] is all smiles again. The date is June 21, 1994, 11:10 a.m. "Taehyung remembered something big," she states with joy. "He told me he's been having dreams of his past life, and he's seen me in them. The longer we're together, the more he's remembering. He says he's been putting things together since we met but that he didn't want to believe it. I think everything's going to be okay!"

The projector continues to roll. When you glance back at it, you see the film roll is more than halfway done. Nervousness fills your stomach. The summer of 1994 was the last your previous life had. Every filmed moment that passes only brings you closer to that death.

"At first, these films were to create a shortcut for my next self," [Y/n] states with a grim demeanor. The date is July 2, 1994, 11:23 p.m. "But now I think I need to film this because I want to preserve this life, this love. It's been over six months since I met Tae, and we started dating shortly after that. It's been the greatest half-year of this lifetime, but I'm terrified it's all going to come to an end."

She clears her throat and shifts her eyes away from the camera. "There was an incident at the Museum yesterday evening. A guy showed up with a knife. I don't know how he got it through security, but he went to Taehyung's office and threatened him, screaming something about the order of things and how off-balanced the universe was. I wasn't there. I didn't see it, but Tae looked shaken. He's tried to hide it, but I'm too good at reading him. He's sleeping here, at my place, for now. Just to be sure. I had to hold him to get him to sleep."

She glances back at the door behind her, one you assume leads to the bedroom where Taehyung slumbers. "It was such a great day up until that happened. We went out, Taehyung only had to run by the Museum to grab something, and..." She sighs, then holds up her left hand. There's a glittery addition to her ring finger. "It was the best day."

The next several minutes show a montage of scenes. A rehearsal. A wedding. A dance. A view of Paris from the air. A pair of newly-weds exploring the city that they both remember from lifetimes ago. For a moment, there's an aura of pure joy and happiness and hope.

Then the shot changes. The camera shakes in [Y/n]'s hands as she aims it towards the window of the Parisian apartment. From the second story, the silhouette of a man can barely be seen. He stands across the street, clothed in darkness, veiled in an ominous aura. Between the shaking hands and pitch-black darkness, you can't quite make out his face.

You don't need to. You know exactly who that man is.

And from the way Taehyung draws in a sharp breath, you sense he's starting to put things together as well.

"Get away from the window, [Y/n]," the other Taehyung whispers from a place behind the camera.

"He can't see me," she retorts, voice trembling. "I wanna get him on camera."

The man walks away, heading in the direction opposite the apartment, and [Y/n] drops the camera onto the nearest table. It doesn't turn off, continuing to film as the woman stumbles into her husband's arms. Her breathing is erratic as she buries her face into his shoulder.

"He—He followed us to France," you murmur into his sleep shirt. "Why does he always find us? W—Why does he keep showing up all the damn time, and why us? Why you? Why—Oh, god."

Taehyung holds her tight, pressing constant butterfly kisses against her hair. "Shhh, love. You've gotta calm down. Just breathe. I got you." To put emphasis on his words, he clasps one hand on the small of her back while the other tangles in her hair. "You're safe; we're safe. He's gone. You're safe."

"Are we? Are we really, Tae? He could've killed you in June. He's been shadowing us for months. I never thought he'd follow us on our honeymoon, but he—shit, he was right outside!"

"I won't let anything happen to you," he reassures in a soft timbre. "Neither of us."

"You can't promise that," she whimpers, clutching him tighter. "Time has told me that. What happens if he finds you again? Or worse, what if he finds us both? What happens if we both die at the same time, Tae? Would—Would that be the end?"

A remorseful expression crosses Taehyung's face, but he quickly hides it as to not risk his wife seeing it. "I know I don't have all the answers. There's still a lot I don't remember, but I know this: I will protect you. My memory is getting stronger every day. I love you and it feels like we wasted so much time already, trying to find each other in a world that feels too big. And me putting up such a fight against the whole idea of past lives. We got through all of that. I won't lose you now. Not ever. Not in this life or the next. You hear me?"

[Y/n] offers a small nod as she pulls away slightly. Her eyes evade his, but when he cups her face in his hands, their gazes meet. Taehyung offers her a small smile, and she returns it.

"I love you, too," she murmurs.

Taehyung brushes his thumbs across her cheeks as his grin widens into a signature boxy smile. "That's my girl." Another kiss to the forehead, and he nods to the dresser. "Grab your things. We're leaving for the airport."

You hear a clicking as the last frame freezes. Both you and Taehyung look over your shoulders, seeing the film reel spinning to its end. He hops up to stop the machine, and the last picture disappears from the wall.

Taglist — @just-call-me-trash-can, @jaienn, @happyhrsme, @butaes, @peter-pan, @twoteen-yup, @dreamcatcherjiah

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