#like you’ve studied a lot of literature and history

[boysnberriespie]

Kind of annoyed with the amount of creative writing professors that get online and are like “ALL of my students can’t do this!!! We’re doomed!!” And they just describe writing style changes 😩 Hmm maybe consider that literary norms and styles are changed and affected by time and societal experiences/expectations, and you are just… from a different generation

[moonstruckme]

Glad your back love! I have a request if that’s alright. Remus and reader going on a bookstore date and lunch or something!! That would be so cute. Imagine how excited both of them would be picking out books and being affectionate. Just a lot of fluff and cuteness. Thanks sweetness hope you enjoyed your break!

Thanks for requesting sweetness!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’re feeling a bit guilty about the teas you’ve snuck in, but if there are two people who can be trusted around books, it’s you and Remus. He takes a careful sip as he leans in to skim the titles, sticking one hand in the pocket of his pants. 

“Island of Love,” he reads, amusement lilting his tone. “Original.” 

“I think I’ve actually read some of that author’s stuff,” you say. 

Remus quirks a brow at you interestedly, hand coming out of his pocket to pull the novel from the shelf. “Let’s see, a summer wedding, the groom’s brother and bride’s maid of honor hate each other, but—oh, he’s frustratingly attractive…and something about passionate summer heat.” The corner of his mouth twitches. “Wonder what that could be alluding to.” 

“Alright.” You steal the book from him, slotting back into its space. “I never said this stuff was, like, literature to be studied at Oxford. If you’re going to disrespect my section, run along to yours.” 

“Fairly sure it’s considered rude to abandon your date,” he muses. “What’s my section, by the way?”

“Depressing stuff.” 

“Oh?” 

“Mhm.” You take a sip of your own tea, trying not to fluster under his attention. You scan the shelves idly for a distraction. “It’s all rather doom and gloom. Very well-written doom and gloom, to be fair, but I’m not always looking to have my life changed. This stuff is fun, at least.” 

“I see,” he hums. “Oh, this looks familiar.” 

You turn to see him holding up the shiny new version of the worn and waterstained paperback that rests perpetually on your nightstand at home. 

“How do you know about that?” you ask him. 

Remus smiles. Your heart flutters. “It was on the coffee table when I was over last week. Are you rereading it?” 

“Yeah.” You shrug, turning your eyes away from him. “I reread it a lot, it’s my favorite.” 

“Mm, I noticed it looked fairly battered.” 

“Well-loved,” you correct him. 

He chuckles quietly, and you grin because you can’t help it. “Right, so sorry. My mistake.” 

You brush a piece of hair out of your face, slotting it behind your ear. Watch Remus’ eyes track the movement. “So what’s your battered book?” 

“Hm?” 

“Your favorite,” you clarify. “The book that’s all war torn and full of nonsensical annotations.”

He thinks for a minute. “I’m not sure,” he admits. “I have a few I go back and forth between, but lately it’s been The Secret History.” 

You have to cover your mouth with a hand to hide the full breadth of your smile, and Remus narrows his eyes at you. 

“What?” he asks.

“That book is so depressing.” You shake your head, delighted at being so right. “I mean, it’s beautifully written,” you amend. “Really gorgeous. I’m just not sure I found the plot as compelling as the prose.” 

His mouth actually drops open. You can’t tell how much of the shock is teasing and how much is real. “You thought that book had no plot?” 

“No, I mean, plenty happened.” You turn to face him, forgetting about the books around you for a moment to focus on this one. “But I felt like it happened so slowly, and there was so much in between that was just tons of description. It was like they almost skimmed over the murder part! There were so many plotlines that were brought in and then just disappeared, though I guess I can respect the ways in which it reflected real life.”

You think for a second that Remus might argue with you (he should, really—it’s his favorite book and you’re slandering it), but he keeps his mouth shut, watching you interestedly. 

“And don’t you think Richard was a bit passive? Henry and Bunny had so much going on, but the narrator could have literally been a fly on the wall the whole time. He kind of reminds me of Nick Carroway, you know?” 

“From the Great Gastby?” He tilts his head, eyes squinting a bit (it’s devastatingly cute). “How’s that?” 

“Just, they’re both such flat characters.” You frown. “I don’t really think either of them needed to be in the story at all. I mean, having a narrator that’s a character with no personality is effectively the same as having a non-omniscient third-person narrator, right?” 

Remus is biting the inside corner of his lips like he’s trying not to smile. “Right.” 

“What?”

“I’m just thinking that I need to get you talking about books more often,” he says. And that’s real affection in his eyes, mixed in with the humor. 

You look down, grinning at the front of your shirt, but his little smile doesn’t waver. 

“Shouldn’t be hard,” you say. An awkward, obvious sidestep of the compliment, but he lets you get away with it. “Your turn. Let’s go to your section.” 

He shrugs. “If you think you can stand it,” he says, but starts moving in that direction. You notice he’s still holding the copy of your favorite book. 

“Aren’t you going to put that back?” 

“No.” He doesn’t need to look down to know what you’re talking about. “You’ve already torn one of my choice novels to shreds, now it’s my turn to read yours.” 

A little bite of nervousness snips behind your belly button even as his sidelong look lets you know he’s only joking. “You could always borrow mine.” 

Remus blinks. “I’m flattered that you’d trust me with it,” he says, and it almost has you blushing again, that he knows the significance of you offering him your copy, “but I think I’ll read the un-annotated version first. But if the offer still stands after I’m finished, I’d love to read your thoughts on it.” 

He says it like it’s nothing. Like taking the time to read your favorite book twice, just so he can get to know you more thoroughly, isn’t the sweetest thing anyone’s ever so much as thought of doing for you. You worry that if you look down, your heart will be glowing right through your shirt.

“Alright.” You muster your courage, taking him by the hand. “But now we also have to find one to read together.” 

Remus has looked down at your joined hands, something like shyness coloring his expression, but he looks up to quirk an eyebrow at you. “Are you so sure we’ll be able to find something we can agree upon?” “So long as it involves a main character that actually does something, I think we can manage.”

[zynari]

♨ Of Cheesecakes and Reports

― Barista!Kazuha x Gn!reader

― Sometimes, a little connection could make all the difference, and even the smallest gestures could spark hope and warmth in our busiest lives.

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 665

Notes: Half of this are based on my own experience hehe. Thank you for 100+ followers! Enjoy reading!

The aroma of freshly ground coffee filled the room as you sat at your regular table in the corner of the busy coffee shop. Even in this warm environment, you could feel a storm building within of you. Various tabs, research articles, and an incomplete report that appeared to be mocking you every time you looked at it cluttered your laptop screen. You massaged your temples in an attempt to release the tension there, but it didn't help.

Your mind was racing with deadlines and grades as you sipped your half-cold cappuccino. Snippets of laughing and conversation came from the other tables, but everything seemed so far away. Your worry made it harder to focus, and the outside world became a haze.

Damn reports…

All of a sudden, a cheesecake appears on your table and you look up.

There, stood a guy who appears to be the same age as you. He’s wearing an apron so you thought that he works here.

“Hey,” he said, offering a smile. “I noticed you’ve been glaring at your laptop screen for a while now. Here's a cheesecake to cheer you up. It’s on the house.”

You shake your head, surprised. “Oh, I couldn’t—”

“Really, it’s just a little pick-me-up. Trust me, it helps,” he insisted, carefully moving the plate of cheesecake next to your laptop.

You hesitated, but the sweet scent was irresistible.

“Thanks,” you said softly, taking a small portion and tasted it. “This is amazing.."

He smiled wider, glad to see a flicker of joy in your expression. “I’m glad you like it. It’s a new recipe I’ve been experimenting with.”

You took another bite, feeling a small wave of comfort wash over you. You look at the nametag on his apron. “Thank you, Kazuha. I really needed this. I’ve been stressing over this report for days.”

Kazuha came back to the counter and continued wiping the cups.

“I get that,” he said, leaning against the counter. “I’m a college student too, and it can be overwhelming. What’s your report about?”

“It’s about history, timelines and origins. You know how difficult science can get sometimes.” you sighed, “I just can’t seem to organize my thoughts.”

Kazuha nodded, genuinely interested. “That sounds difficult, indeed. History can be shits sometimes.”

“Right?” you sighed and leans on your chair.

Feeling comfortable, the two of you continue talking and sharing experiences about your college life.

You were surprised when Kazuha said that he studies at the same university as you. He’s also a year older than you, that’s why you never see each other at school. He said that he’s taking up computer science since he failed to secure a slot with his desired course, which is literature.

Part of you secretly wished that you see or bump into each other at school one day, and you mentally smiled at the thought. It sounds impossible given your busy schedules, but a simple wish can still be considered a hope.

After a while, you glanced at the clock, realizing you had been talking for nearly half an hour. “Wow, I didn’t mean to take up your break.”

“It’s all good. I enjoyed it,” Kazuha replied, “Sometimes you just need a little distraction.”

“I really appreciate it. You’ve made my day a lot better.”

“Anytime,” he said, a hint of warmth in his voice. “And if you need another cheesecake or just want to chat while you work, I’m here.”

You nodded, experiencing a level of comfort you hadn't anticipated. “I might just take you up on that.”

You noticed that you were less nervous and more concentrated when you went back to your report. You struck into a typing session, your fingers caressing the keys with newfound enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, from behind the counter, Kazuha observed you with a faint smile. Feeling lighter and a little bit proud, he went back to his work, secretly hoping that you would come visit again.

[yall-batman-fanfic]

Another Chance | Bruce Wayne/Batman x Reader!Magician

Synopsis: Vivian finds out she’s pregnant and has mixed feelings about it.

All of them had the same result as the first. All of them were positive. It was impossible, she thought. The doctor said that the bullet wound made the possibility of her ever getting pregnant again was low, then there’s the fact that this would be considered a geriatric pregnancy, there are many cases of successful pregnancies at this age but that percentage that means that it could fail haunted her.

Vivian wasn’ sure if she could take another miscarriage.

“Vivian, is everything alright?” Bruce knocked on the bathroom door. 

Vivian quickly grabbed all the tests and shoved them in her drawer in the bathroom before calling out. “Yeah, I’m okay! You can come in.”

Entering the bathroom, he looked around and found her leaning against the sink with a contemplative look on her. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything’s alright,” Vivian smiled but it was fleeting. “I guess I’m just nervous.”

“About what?”

“Well,” She held his hand that cupped her face and nuzzled her face to his palm, finding comfort in his touch. “The Dean called to see me.”

“Any reason?”

Vivian shrugged. “He’s been giving hints about retiring.”

Bruce smiled. “Could it be…”

“I think so but I don’t want to get my hopes up.” Just like with this little one.

“Vivian, if it is what we think it is, then it’s something to celebrate. You deserve this, you’re a tenured professor and you’ve  given Gotham University so much… unless there’s a reason for the hesitation?”

A lot.

“There are other universities that have expressed their offers to have me with a good raise and a Dean position too. One of which are still in Gotham. And the fact that if I do take this Dean position, it would mean I have to let go of some of my part-time classes in other universities.”

Bruce pressed his forehead against hers. “Whatever you decide, we got your back. Remember that, alright?”

Vivian smiled and nodded. “I know.” She kissed his palm. “I should get going, I don’t want to be late.”

“Okay,” Bruce kissed her lightly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Another kiss and Vivian left the bathroom to get to work.

~*~

They were right, it was an offer of a promotion that the Dean called her for a chat in his office with lunch. Professor Grant has been Dean of their campus for almost a decade now, Vivian has worked with the old professor since she started at Gotham University. He was making a study on the origins of meta-humans and their part in the evolution of society. 

Dean Grant mentioned how she was his first choice and as well as the board. Vivian Pryor-Wayne is a name that’s been frequent in their academic circles, not just in Gotham but in America as well. Some student applicants would make Gotham University one of their choices because of Vivian’s expertise in their field. Then he mentioned that he knows that there are universities who have been sending proposals with offers to joining their research team to study new findings in history and literature, some old texts.

“This is really an honor. I’m honored, Professor Grant. Truly,” said Vivian. “It’s just — not that I’m a flight risk, Sir. But there’s something that I have been thinking of… I guess what I’m saying is, the announcement is still far off and I just don’t want to jinx it.”

That’s right. It’s too early to mention anything.

So much could happen before it comes.

It’s best to just hold off the news until they’re sure right?

But then it’s not just her concern. This also concerns Bruce. 

Dean Grant chuckled. “Right, right. Of course, but if there’s anything you should discuss with Mr. Wayne, go ahead. But Vivian, I’m telling you now, the possibility of you taking my place is high.”

They finished their food and Vivian left to head back to her classes. When she went home, she mentioned to Bruce that their guesses were correct, it was a promotion of a promotion. Rather, a promise for one to be Dean, but it was still something that the board needed to finalize with the paperwork. So, she’s not expecting too much. Still, Bruce celebrated with her with a nice dinner out.

For the next few days, she’s been thinking about everything that’s happening to her. And on one of those days, she went to her doctor’s appointment, meeting with her OB/GYN to make sure what she was seeing was real, and it was all real. She was pregnant.

Returning home, no one was there but for Alfred, who was concerned with her sudden reservations, but Vivian wasn’t sure what to say to him so she said that she was just feeling under the weather. He offered her a scotch but Vivian declined and said that she’ll just take a nap.

But it wasn’t in the master’s bedroom she went to. Vivian went to the room where they had set up the nursery when they were expecting the first time. The room was empty but for the bed that was already there the moment they set it up for the baby. Vivian wanted to keep the bed in case she wanted to sleep there and be with the baby or for when the baby grows up. 

“You’ll never know, they do grow up so fast,” she said then. 

Was it right to set up the nursery here again for another baby? 

There was only one way to find out.

“Morpheus.”

There was a shift in the wind.

“You called,” Dream appeared before her in his black robes. “What is the matter?”

“I want to know… does it go well?” Vivian said. “Will this time happen or is it going to be heartbreak again?”

“You are with child,” said Dream.

“Yes.”

“Does your husband know?”

“Not yet. I don’t know what to say to be honest. Or how to say it. I just want to know now first — can you ask Destiny if…”

Dream sat beside her. “You forget. The Book of Destiny cannot find the Pryor line in its pages. Destiny cannot know for certain what will happen. To live freely without the ties of destiny, is that not what you fought for? Why do you cling to destiny now?”

“Because I’m scared,” she whispered. “I’m so scared. I don’t want to go through it all again.”

“You forget again. You defined that moment into one tragic event. Yes, it was a tragedy but there was happiness too. The happiness Helena brought to you… the hopes and dreams you and your husband shared. Taking the words of your first son, your ward,” Dream smiled, “Take a leap of faith.”

“Dick has always been our anchor,” Vivian smiled.

“But it is from you that he learned so much from… you have been so scared for so long that you forget what it is you teach your children. Fear has a tendency to do that,” he reached out and wiped the tears that were building up. “Do not fear the unknown, Vivian. Do not fear of what could be, embrace what is here now.”

Vivian reached for her necklace and opened the locket. It now holds two photos, one side having a group photo of Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian, then at the other side were Cassandra, Duke, and Steph. Helena’s petal was still there too. 

The knock on the door brought Vivian back from her reverie, and one moment Dream was beside her, the next he was gone. The door opened before Vivian could answer. It was Bruce.

“You’re home early,” Vivian said to him.

“Alfred mentioned that you looked troubled. I wanted to see how you are,” Bruce sat beside her on the bed. “Vivian, what’s wrong? You’ve been acting strange for the past few days. I didn’t want to ask too much about it because I wanted you to tell me in your own time but seeing you here, it’s worrying me. Is it about the promotion? Or maybe you want to take another offer. If it’s the location you’re worried about, I’m sure we could figure something out.”

“It’s not that — well, it’s a little bit but mostly it’s about the promotion,” Vivian took a breath. “I think it’s just wrong timing, you know.”

“Why? Vivian, you’ve been working in Gotham University since you graduated. Or maybe you do want to move to another university?”

“No, no,” Vivian chuckled. “I’m happy with how things are now. With my job, my part-time ones, my part in Wayne Enterprise. I’m just thinking about taking a sabbatical, that's all.”

“A sabbatical?” Bruce’s brows furrowed. “You never mentioned that before.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for some time now but never thought about it seriously until now.”

“Why now?”

“Stest dna srepap ot ym dnah.” They didn’t land in her hands but they did land on her lap. The hospital results and the many pregnancy tests she took. “I was late, and I thought it was just normal, but then I started noticing some changes in me so I took a test. I’m pregnant, Bruce.”

Bruce took one of the tests and saw the positive result. The same result appeared in each one, and to solidify what he was seeing was true he read the doctor’s report. Vivian was pregnant. 

“Do you not want this?” Bruce asked. ‘Is that why you’ve been distant lately?” 

“I do, but I’ve been so scared of what could happen and I… it was wrong of me to not tell you immediately, I know but I don’t want to get our hopes up,” Vivian couldn’t look him in the eye. Not after hiding something like this from him. 

Bruce pushed away the tests and the papers and brought Vivian to his embrace, letting her feel that she was not alone. He said no words but Vivian could feel what it was he wanted to say to her and she held him tight. 

“Do you want this?” Vivian finally asked.

Bruce held her by her arms and looked into her eyes and said: “Yes. I know that we haven’t talked about trying again since Helena, but Vivian if this is our second chance, I want this. I want this with you… but do you?”

Vivian nodded. “I do. And that’s why I’m turning down all the offers and the promotion because I want to do this too. I want to be here for them fully and not just when I get home from work. I want to do this right. That’s why I was thinking of going through that sabbatical. It would also mean keeping them safe from whatever there is — but that doesn’t mean I’m locking myself in here until the baby comes, I just…”

“I understand… I find it unfair that you have to put a pause in your life just so we could get to do this.”

Vivian smiled. “Well, someone has to keep working to keep the roof over our heads, right?”

“And with this one coming, Batman has his hands full too… I want to make Gotham a safe place for our child to grow up in.”

Vivian reached to brush his cheek, running her thumb over his stubbles. “But don’t work yourself too much, Batman. I want you to enjoy this too. I want you to still be here when they come.”

“I won’t. I promise,” Bruce kissed her palm. “So when are you going to tell Grant about it?”

“Tomorrow, before the board makes their decision. He’ll understand.”

“And the family?”

“Tomorrow too. For now, let’s have this moment, just the two of us.”

Bruce nodded. He then laid down on the bed and reached for Vivian to be at his side. With a hand on her belly, Bruce and Vivian stayed there in silence and found comfort in each other’s company. Finding the courage to face their fears and accept the beauty of this moment.

They were given another chance, just as Bruce thought he had used up all his luck in second chances after the deaths of Jason, Damian, and Vivian, and then all came back to life. All of them came back to him. Now this. No one can ever replace the child they lost, so this was them moving on and accepting another chance to start again. To open the possibility of dreaming of raising a child together from the very beginning too. 

~ Many Months Later ~

The cake was strawberry with chocolate icing for its coat, and a white icing for the words that says: See you in a year, Viv! And standing at the very middle was Vivian who thanked her colleagues for the little party they threw for her honor before she heads off for her maternity leave and then her sabbatical. She won’t be back for a while. 

But that wasn’t the only cake there was, her students – all who have graduated and those she won’t be seeing for their graduation, sadly, came to give her gifts and a cake for congratulations and a farewell until her return to the university. 

The party was held in her favorite classroom. Justin made sure to get her away from the room and from walking into the classroom before it was set up by taking her on a one last tour before she takes a break from working to focus on her family. 

They had to take a couple of breaks as Vivian’s pregnant belly was already big and it was tiring her out to walk around that much. By the time they arrived at the classroom, everything was set, and she was surprised with a ‘see you later!’ banner on the board, and gifts from everyone in there.

“Thank you, everyone, for all of this,” Vivian said to them. “Just for the record, I’m not leaving academia, I’m just taking a break. God knows I need one after all these years… and as you all know, history, art, and literature are my passion and teaching has always been my calling. I enjoy teaching everyone about what I’ve learned and what I love. So, if I can, I will continue to do so until my dying breath. But for now, I want to give time to something important to me too.” She rubbed her pregnant belly lovingly. “I’ll try to sway this one away from corporate life and into academia.”

“We’ll keep in touch,” said Justin. “Give you the latest drama there is on campus.”

“Yes, please,” Vivian chuckled. “Please, enjoy the cake, and thank you all for these gifts… It's been a fun and interesting few decades working here in Gotham University.”

“We’ll make sure to save your kid a spot here too,” said Grant. “Give them a discount too — she is a legacy of two former students here.”

The door of the classroom opened, it was Jason who was carrying a box of her things from the faculty room. “We’re heading to the car. Take your time with all this,” he told her.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. We’re done with the cake anyway. And my feet are killing me. Where’s your father?”

“Right here,” Bruce appeared with Damian and Tim. “Ready to go?”

“I am,” Vivian took her bag and asked her sons to get the gifts from the table too. Turning to her colleagues and students, Vivian waved goodbye and took Bruce’s hand as they left for home. 

“I’m going to miss this parking space,” said Bruce.

“Me too. But one year and some change will be fast for us. We’ll be back here,” said Vivian. 

“All set,” said Jason. “I’ll drive behind you guys on my bike and meet you at the manor.”

“Jason, that’s not necessary,” Vivian sighed.

“Agreed,” said Damian. “Drake will be driving Father’s car, he’ll take point and make sure that it��s safe to proceed.”

“Damian, that’s a little excessive. We’ll be fine!” 

Since telling the family about her pregnancy, everyone was overjoyed with the news but also became protective. Jason has been frequent in the manor and would always accompany her whenever she leaves the place to head to work or go out shopping with Veronica Vreeland for baby things. The woman was also pregnant, she just found out a couple of weeks ago and was preparing just like her. 

Then there was Damian who made it his mission to ensure Vivian’s safety, Cassandra too is on high alert whenever they leave the house. The only ones who were acting normal in the family were Dick and the others. 

“Nothing will happen to you, Mom,” said Damian.

“Just get in the car,” she told him. “I want to sleep.”

“I think it would be best if I sit at the front.”

“No. I easily get car sick now, so back.”

“Fine.”

With Jason getting on his bike, and Tim in Bruce’s car, Vivian sighed once again and rubbed her pregnant belly. “I feel sorry for our daughter,” Vivian chuckled. “She’s got four nosy brothers, Duke is probably the only sane one there is.”

“I see it as a good thing,” Bruce smirked.

“I find it unfair that you’ll be subjecting our daughter to the typical dad who will chase away any boyfriend she brings, but didn’t do the same with Cass and Steph.”

“Cass and Stephanie are on my side with this too.”

Vivian pouted. Bruce chuckled and helped Vivian into the car, then got in himself and drove away. 

“Poor baby,” Vivian joked as she rubbed her pregnant belly. “Your brothers and sisters are going to scare away any boyfriend or girlfriend there is.”

Damian scoffed. “I dare them to even try to date her.”

“But you’re the luckiest one too because you got the greatest superhero team there is as your teachers and bodyguards – I think she likes the idea too,” Vivian laughed.

“Why?” Bruce asked.

“Because she just kicked.”

“Really?” Damian leaned forward and placed his hand on Vivian’s belly. “She’s moving around a lot.” He smiled. 

“Don’t tire her out, I also want to feel her,” Bruce chuckled.

“I’m telling everyone in the group chat that the baby moved because of my voice,” Damian sat back and began typing. Not long his phone started to get notifications from everyone, and so did Vivian and Bruce’s. 

As Damian was occupied with his phone, Bruce reached out and placed a hand on Vivian’s belly and under his palm he felt the baby kick too.

“She knows it’s her Dad,” Vivian told him. “In a couple of months we’ll get to hold her, Bruce.”

“I know. Just a few more months.”

[mueritos]

Hi matteo! I think you’ve talked about gay and lesbian books you like, but I was wondering if you have any that you think every trans person should read?

hai!! good question :) I have a couple I can think of but they're definitely not very different from the ones Ive already offered. I think trans and cis queers should be reading the same literature, but I do also understand the want to find trans specific literature.

Transgender History by Susan Stryker...a good start but definitely not the most expansive look into trans history

Trans Sex by Lucie Fielding...this is definitely a more clinical book for folks who work in therapeutic settings with trans people, but reading it before I even decided to go into clinical social work gave me a lot of tools, knowledge, and lived experience to draw upon

The Trouble with Normal by Michael Warner...posted about it before but I do think its a must read for any freak/pervert/degenerate out there looking to academically justify "freakdom"...aka lets stop normalizing ourselves into the us imperial regime!

Trans Studies: The Challenges to Hetero/Homo Normatives...havent finished reading this but ive picked at some of the essays...some don't land all too well if you're BIPOC, but nonetheless are informative

Sex Wars by Lisa Duggan and Nan D Hunter...not necessarily a trans history book but I think its a book essential to understanding how radical feminism historically veered into conservatism...not to mention all the foreshadowing of language/policy/scapegoating being used by TERFs today...lol

The Joy of a Castrated Boy by Joon Oluchi Lee...def need to reread this because it was like so fucking epic for my brain but...you'll get it when you read it (he's also a fellow virgo)

Ill leave it at that lest I just bombard you with more readings. I actually have a queer theory google drive here if you're interested in checking out some readings/lists I have on file. Haven't had time to read everything in there but golly! lots of great places to start :)

[ausetkmt]

When Donald Trump talks about undocumented immigrants, he often brings up genetics.

Immigrants are “poisoning the blood of our country,” he said at a rally last year.

“Many of them murdered far more than one person, and they’re now happily living in the United States,” he said earlier this month. “You know, now a murderer, I believe this, it’s in their genes. And we got a lot of bad genes in our country right now.” 

The former president’s language underscores a larger trend, experts tell STAT. The eugenics movement is once again taking center stage in the U.S. — both in the immigration policies and rhetoric promoted by Trump, and through a rise in race science in academic literature.

Eugenics — the pseudoscientific idea of fixing social problems through genetics and heredity via policies ranging from selective breeding to forced sterilization and genocide — was popular at the turn of the 20th century, before the devastation of the Holocaust quelled public support for it. The reasons for its resurgence include an increase in funding of race science from private donors, as well as proponents of scientific racism and white nationalists manipulating the push to make science more public. 

Even well-intentioned scientists have fed into this shift by promoting genetic determinism — the idea that genes are the primary driver of traits and behaviors — and by platforming problematic work in the name of academic freedom. 

“I wasn’t surprised that people are being demagogic about this stuff, but I am a little surprised that they’re so clearly not even hiding [it],” said Paul Lombardo, a professor of law at Georgia State University who has done extensive work on the legacy of eugenics. “This is not just saying the quiet part out loud. This is coming up with quotations in which, instead of using quotation marks, you’ve got swastikas at each end of the sentence.”

‘Bad genes’ and the birth of eugenics

Trump is frequently accused of racism, but the fact that he is embracing eugenic thinking has not drawn sufficient attention, according to Shannon O’Brien, a political scientist at the University of Texas, Austin, who has written a book on eugenics in American politics. 

While racists harbor hatred for others because of their ethnicity or the color of their skin, eugenicists take it a step further and “like to legislate people out of existence,” O’Brien said. “They are OK with sterilization. They’re okay with extermination, and they believe that certain groups are superior and it’s OK to enact things that make it difficult for other ones to exist. I find that far scarier than racism.” 

Asked about Trump’s rhetoric and the eugenics movement and his remarks about “bad genes,” Karoline Leavitt, the campaign’s press secretary, told STAT, “President Trump was clearly referring to murderers, not migrants.’’

The former president also has a history of statements suggesting that certain people are genetically superior. A 2016 documentary pointed out Trump’s father, Fred, introduced him to “racehorse theory” as a child — the idea that “that if you put together the genes of a superior woman and a superior man, you get superior offspring.” He’s used this idea to promote his own intelligence as well. “I had an uncle who went to MIT who is a top professor, Dr. John Trump. A genius. It’s in my blood. I’m smart,” he told CNN in 2020. 

This way of talking about genetics is rooted in a long history that begins with the English anthropologist Francis Galton, who took his cousin Charles Darwin’s theory of evolution and applied it to humans, first using the term eugenics in 1883. The nascent field of eugenics matured into a full-fledged field of study in the United States. Much later, in the 1990s, the sequencing of the human genome inadvertently created a new surge in eugenics — emboldened by the idea that scientists could isolate genes responsible for complex behaviors, like poverty, crime and intelligence. 

How companies like 23andMe bolstered genetic determinism  

Those affiliated with the Human Genome Project hoped sequencing the genome would end notions that genetics created significant differences in different groups — “that it would lead us to this post-racial world,” said Aaron Panofsky, the director of the Institute for Society and Genetics at the University of California, Los Angeles. 

“But it turns out that both scientists and the public spend all their interest in the 0.1% of genetic variation that makes us different, not the 99.9% that makes us the same.”

In promoting their research to the public and getting research funding from the government, geneticists often hyped up the role genes play in people’s lives. The Human Genome Project “was a huge public undertaking,” said Emily Merchant, a historian of science at the University of California, Davis. “It was almost $3 billion and took more than a decade to complete. So it needed a lot of popular support. The scientists who were trying to generate that popular support did it by promoting genetic determinism.”

This sentiment persisted in ensuing years because of popular genetic testing companies like 23andMe and Ancestry.com, which marketed its products with the premise that an understanding of genetics held the secret to good health and could quantify people’s sense of belonging to racial or ethnic groups. 

In the early 2010s, there was another shift in how mainstream academic circles discussed ideas that intelligence was genetic or that race had a biological basis. Richard Lynn, a psychologist who claimed that people from certain countries had lower IQs, promoted a biased dataset on IQ differences between countries that became increasingly widespread in academia. Another theory, called “differential K theory,” began to circulate around this time, stating that Black people have lower IQs and are more aggressive. 

“The national IQ database, differential K theory, they should have died the death bad science deserves to die. They have no scientific merit,” said Rebecca Sear, an evolutionary behavioral scientist at Brunel University who has documented the resurgence in eugenics in demography. “They’ve both been extensively critiqued. They are both currently thriving in the academic literature.”

While controversial among the scientific community, ideas like Lynn’s continued to spread in academia, in part because of the ethos of academic freedom — the idea that scholars should be able to research and debate any issues in their field, and that rejecting a paper based on problematic findings is tantamount to censorship.  

“That’s a very, very problematic argument, but I think it is quite widespread,” Sear said. “Academic freedom isn’t the freedom to say literally anything in an academic forum. It’s the freedom to say anything with a sound methodological basis.” 

While these ideas lacked scientific rigor, Sear explained, they were often not intended for other scientists. “Scientific racism really is not aimed at academia. It’s aimed at the outside world. And this, I think, is why it’s so often such bad science,” Sear said.

The appropriation of open science 

The open science movement around this time also proved to boost the spread of flawed research on race, ethnicity, and genetics. Academic journals increasingly were publishing papers without paywalls, so anyone could access them, and often requiring the data underpinning research to be available. 

Some scientists had also begun posting early drafts of their work, called “preprints,” on public forums. By doing science in the public square this way, people with explicit political agendas could access, manipulate, and reinterpret published research in a way that sometimes took academics by surprise.  

Online, white nationalists used popular genetic testing websites to prove how white they were, and reanalyzed scientific data with a bent to affirming biological differences between races. They also seized on uncertainty among biologists about how to discuss race in the academic literature. Discussion forums on the subject might lean on anti-science conspiracy theories, but users could sometimes make sophisticated arguments about statistical uncertainties or the distinction between correlation and causation.

“They read both against and with the scientific literature, and that’s the way in which it becomes a very complicated dance that they sometimes make,” said Panofsky, who has studied the ways that far-right movements weaponize genetics. 

The solution to the weaponization of genetics isn’t gatekeeping research, experts studying the issue agree. But, they say that academia hasn’t confronted the ways science can be used to embolden bigotry. 

“We have basically a metric for how much Nazis like your research,” said Jedidiah Carlson, a population geneticist at Macalester College who led an analysis of how preprints circulate among right-wing extremists online. But it’s not a feature many are interested in. He wants to see researchers more attuned to the long-term impact of their work. 

Incentive structures in research are also responsible for the continued popularity of research on topics like the links between genetics and intelligence or educational attainment, Carlson said. It’s “easy to get money for it, because you can say this has immediate policy implications for education and immigration policy … It’s just treated as this generic ‘apolitical’ research when it never has been.”

Challenging the idea that genes are ‘in the driver’s seat’

The failure to deeply engage with the dark history of eugenics and the way it’s informed a number of academic fields is linked to current political hostility directed toward immigrants, according to Marielena Hincapié, an immigration scholar and lawyer at Cornell University who hosted a symposium on the 100-year legacy of eugenics and the Immigration Act of 1924. 

She points to recent attacks on immigrant communities carried out by people that believe in the Great Replacement Theory, a conspiracy that posits there is a concerted effort to diminish the power and influence of white people in the United States. The gunman behind one such attack, in Buffalo, New York, directly cited genetics research in his thinking.

The incident sparked some soul searching within the genetics community, which has also pushed back on problematic use of its research. In one case, a genetics consortium challenged the use of its data by a private company to screen embryos. On another occasion, a now-defunct app claimed it could test users on whether they had genes associated with same-sex sexual orientation, drawing on a paper published in Science. That prompted a protest petition signed by more than 1,600 scientists. 

There’s also growing interest in the scientific community in how social determinants, such as economic policies, racism, and climate change, shape people’s health, and in the field of epigenetics, which studies how the environment affects gene expression. These paradigms open up an understanding that “genes are not necessarily in the driver’s seat, but they’re in an interactive relationship with a whole bunch of other factors,” said Panofsky. “They seem to open a door to a post-deterministic biology and genetics.” 

Even so, the field has yet to truly rethink its buy-in of the idea that genes play a central role in people’s abilities and behaviors, Panofsky said. That thinking can inadvertently support the kind of problematic rhetoric Trump has applied to immigrants. While much of the U.S. has moved on and forgotten about its eugenic past, the country hasn’t done the work to refute the ideas it made so popular. 

“We presume that we’ve done the work of rooting these matters out of our society,” said Michele Goodwin, a professor of constitutional law and global health at Georgetown Law. “But that presumption is proving to be quite thin and weak in these times.”

Just over 100 years ago, eugenicist Harry Laughlin testified before the U.S. House of Representatives that “The character of our civilization will be modified by the ‘blood’ or the natural hereditary qualities which the sexually fertile immigrant brings to our shores.” His argument wouldn’t be out of place today.

[paintedvanilla]

i’ve been thinking about marla an INSANE amount these last few days. specifically about the relationship between her and the narrator (i love their little toxic frenemie schtick they’ve got going on).

would love to hear some more headcanons for them/ how you’d imagine their relationship progress over the years if you’ve got any🤭

YEASSSSS OKAY HAIIIII PHIN thank you for sending this ask I’m gonna EXPLODE

Okay so like. One of the fics I’m working on (I told you about this on our DM’s…) has to do with Marla and the narrators dynamic immediately after he and Tyler get together and how their friendship actually like. Calcifies into something bearable to him. Because like. Really genuinely prior to this. The narrator could not stand Marla. And then the events of this fic happen and he like. Ctrl alt delete and manually operates his empathy for a few hours and comes out of it being like… actually this woman is my friend. And I care for her. He still acts like a hater to keep up appearances tho.

I think a lot about the way Marla is characterized in the book. Particularly the scene where she’s giving herself cigarette burns and the narrator describes her as a woman who’s afraid to commit to the wrong thing so she doesn’t commit to anything. That makes me want to chew glass. ALSO. IN THE BOOK SHE ACTUALLY HAD CANCER?? I FEEL LIKE THAT WAS KIND OF BRUSHED OVER. BUT ANYWAY.

I’m of the firm belief that the narrator and Marla hang out pretty regularly. She’s the only person the narrator talks to who like… isn’t Tyler. So he can talk to her about things he can’t talk to Tyler about (or just doesn’t want to). This gives him an avenue to bitch about Tyler from time to time (Marla can corroborate his bitching because she’s also dealt with Tyler). But also he talks to her about other stuff. I think she’s the only person who knows he wishes he’d studied literature in school. I think he shares the literary magazines he reads with her and tells her which stories he actually likes (he gatekeeps these from Tyler)

Additionally, Marla talks to him about her stuff. She talks to him about all her boy problems (I love in the book Marla’s “I used to have a boyfriend who…” talk, she has an ex-boyfriend for every occasion and the narrator finds this kind of fascinating). She talks about her home life and her history with him (she’s originally from New Orleans, she wanted to move to New York City but only got as far as Connecticut). They go to the thrift together. They go to lunch together (the narrator pays). Sometimes the narrator goes grocery shopping with her (he still pays).

They talk about sex. They talk about their childhoods. I think the narrators dynamic with Marla reminds him of the dynamic he used to have with his sister, where she’d just talk and he’d just listen. Marla doesn’t care if the narrator doesn’t respond to her, she knows he’s listening.

I think one of the reasons their relationship works so well, and in particular one of the reasons the narrator keeps crawling back to her, is based on one simple foundation: they talk to each other and really listen, they don’t just wait for their turn to speak. They picked that up in the same place, and they always employ it with each other. Tyler sometimes doesn’t do that for the narrator. But marla always does, and the narrator does the same.

They still go to support groups together, sometimes. Marla did drag him to debtors anonymous. Sometimes they go to the testicular cancer group for the sole purpose of catching up with Bob (I think the narrator genuinely likes Bob. Like. As a person). Marla told him that the narrator got himself a boyfriend and he had to jump through hoops explaining that one (he can never admit to this man he never actually had cancer).

Sometimes they go to groups and make up elaborate backstories for one another and use fake names. Marla likes to go and pretend they’re having marital problems, the narrator reluctantly plays along sometimes. They go see movies together. They go to museums together. Like. They’re besties. They bicker, but they’re besties. The narrator would kill for her (or, at the very least, beat a man to the brink of death, castrate him and pull out his molars for her to make into earrings).

[obsoleteozymandias]

hello dearie, i saw your trade request. here's my info!

please do not match me with the first years. my info is as follows: pronouns: she/her/they/them personality indicators: intj 5w4 ; melancholic-choleric signs: pisces sun / taurus rising / taurus moon hogwarts house: ravenclaw alignment: neutral good alignment preferred gender to be matched with: male

personality: studious, business-minded, tech-savvy, a little bit of a perfectionist, highly values knowledge and intelligence, tends to overwork, stubbornly independent, calm and composed, intimidating at first glance (according to colleagues), reserved and extremely introverted, protective to loved ones, obedient and respectful to authorities but will not hesitate to call them out if necessary, blunt, idealistic, but ends up being a little pessimistic and/or realist when stressed, highly organised, loves to play video games or read and write books on spare time, passionate, drawn to mysterious, historical, gothic, and horror subjects

hobbies + likes: researching abandoned and haunted places, writing, reading, exams, stationery, business-related topics (esp finance), coffee shops, bookstores and libraries, electronic shops, technology, video games, dark royalty / dark academia aesthetic, classical literature, classical music, detective/crime/mystery/horror stories (esp. from 19th century), cats, history, listening and belting out to musicals when alone, greek mythology

dislikes: bugs, studying repetitive subjects without gaining new knowledge, failure to meet own expectations, unnecessary change

fashion choices: gothic, elegant, classic, vintage, and formal fashion styles

partner preference: someone gentle yet authoritative, smart/highly intelligent and has a lot of knowledge generally or on a certain subject

i think that's more than enough. that's all, thank you!

Here ya go! I hope you enoy this, and I’m very much looking forward to seeing what you have to say for mine! Feel free to send any more requests my way <3

== Twisted Wonderland ==>

I match you up with…

Idia Shroud

Pre-relationship:

Idia doesn’t truly get along with anyone well at first, let’s be honest. He’s reclusive, and although you’ve got a lot of shared interests, he can’t get over his fears of others, even if he does find you interesting.

I like the imagine in this case that you’d be sorted into Ignihyde, given your knowledge of technology. Maybe you’d even become the vice housewarden with your talent for staying calm and realistic. 

Either way, I think your mature attitude would mean he ends up relying on you quite a bit, and so he comes to trust you, although it’s a VERY long road to true friendship. 

When you do become better friends, he comes to appreciate your maturity, passion for knowledge, and your unique hobbies and interests. I think it would be cute to buy him some dark royalty clothes, and watch him flush when he changes into them for you. 

He challenges you in terms of intelligence and technology. He has fun coding challenges and creating problems for you both to solve. 

I think he falls for you long before he admits it, both to you and to himself. Your maturity, intelligence, and the ways which you both complement and yet contradict one another. 

What can I say, opposites attract!

Confession: 

He’s definitely confessing to you in person, even if he feels like he can’t do it. He knows that he needs to face his fears to be with you, and he knows that you bring out the best in him. 

He stutters and blushes his way through it, but he is earnest and speaks words of absolute adoration about you. 

Relationship:

I think you and Idia spend a lot of time alone together. You may sit in the same room and cuddle up close while playing separate games, but he’ll absolutely be placing sporadic kisses on you. 

If you ask, he’ll shower you with all his knowledge and trivia on anything. He’ll learn all of that for you! If you’re interested in something, he’ll go out of his way to learn about it so that you two can chat. 

He’ll want to spend every second of his waking hours with you, and all the sleeping ones dreaming of you. 

[discoddity]

OK i’m definitely doing history and psychology for a-levels but what should my 3rd choice be

don’t vote yet please!!!

don’t vote yet!!! read below the poll first pls

pros and cons

media studies

pros

• i think the lessons would be very interesting

• we are exposed to media everyday! so i’d understand something i see all the time a bit better

• two of my english teachers that are also media studies teachers said i should do it

• i’d have the potential to make cool video essays and tumblr posts …

• coursework might be fun

cons

• i’ve never done it before so i don’t actually know if i’d enjoy it

• i also don’t know if i’d do well in it bc of that

• i often struggle to understand picture sources in history (media has a lot of analysing of pictures i think)

• i understand words better than pictures

• coursework might be stressful

• i want to do the other two aswell :(

english literature

pros

• i understand words better than pictures

• have been doing it at school for like five years now #experience #XP

• i get good grades at it in gcse, so i will probably be able to do well at a-level too

• i know i usually enjoy it

• i like reading

cons

• the fact that an english essay’s marks could change from examiner to examiner makes me nervous, what if i get all the angry examiners who want to watch the world burn.

• what if i don’t like the books we learn about?

• idk what i’d do for coursework (comparing books you’ve read i think)

• apparently it is very different at a-level and more work / stress .. EEK!

• i want to do the other two aswell :(

spanish

pros

• my teacher really wants me to do it

• have been doing it at school for like five years now #experience #XP

• i get good grades at it in gcse, so i will probably be able to do well at a-level too

• i think learning a language can be a v useful and good thing to do

cons

• i want to do the other two aswell :(

• i struggle with the speaking and listening parts sometimes

• don’t think i’d be able to understand a full book or film in spanish yet (but ig thats the point of learning it,,)

[yellowtansies]

⌜ sabrina carpenter, cisfemale, she/her, ⌟ welcome back to hogwarts, TANSY TWILIGHT ! according to your file, you’re a TWENTY-FIVE year old HALF BLOOD as i’m sure you remember, last spring had its challenges, but i’m confident you’ll take your studies more seriously this year. as a SEVENTH year HUFFLEPUFF, focusing on HISTORY OF MAGIC, you’ve got a lot on your plate. our records show that you're SWEET and OUTSPOKEN however, they seem to have left off that you're BRAZEN and LOQUACIOUS. if i’m correct, you’re siding with THE LIGHT , which makes sense considering you’re known around the castle for the gentle chirp of baby chicks, the sound of a brook babbling across smooth rocks, the scream before your body hits the water with a splash, the rev of a four wheelers engine, the hoots and hollers of a pasture party as dusk sets in, sunflowers moving in the breeze against the backdrop of a clear blue sky. let’s hope you make it through the year in one piece.

statistics // tag dump // pinterest

if you know anyone you know tansy twilight

a school socialite and one of the only foreigners tansy has been at hogwarts since she was 18 and has been a well known hufflepuff because of bubbly southern disposition

her mother was a pureblood and her father a muggle

she was born and raised in madison, georgia and will not hesitate to tell you if you cant already hear it.

the brightest smile in the galaxy, will talk to anyone

has run for many student councils and student government positions and won.

known to remember everyone's names and for her southern charm and hospitality as well as cooking.

she is the middle of 5 children, being the only girl and was heavily spoiled and treated like it

growing up she was really close to her mother, she taught her and her brothers everything they know about witchcraft and wizardry

her mother was well versed in traditional witchcraft, charms, manifestations, deity work, crystals etc.

openly a witch her mother often was the subject of ridicule of their small town, leading for their family to move out into a big yellow and white southern style home on the outskirts of the city. it was large and old and the seven of them ran around it and their farm living in their own little world.

tw:// s*xual assault her move to the madison high school from another small town school after a sa. her brothers handled it and they had to get out of dodge, but its something tansy is still dealing with to this day, which her bubbly and open personality to mask it is a testament of

growing up with brothers made tansy tough, she isn't afraid of getting down and dirty or any little critters and often is the one getting rid of pests humanely in the hufflepuff dormitory

wizarding wireless president and known for her smooth southern drawl on the schools radio airways.

when she was thirteen her mother was killed in a burglary gone wrong, to which until this day tansy believes is linked to them being witches and wizards.

for the rest of her life she grew up as the singular girl in her home, and outside of her wardrobe it shows

brazen and bold and sure of herself, never really takes no as an answer if it has to do with her abilities

is seen in cowboy boots or no shoes, no in between.

her magic specializes in working with special forces to enhance her charms and potions.

is a big book reader and LOVES history and literature. because her mom was so knowledgeable about her people it let tansy into wanting to dig more into the research or history of witchcraft and wizardry which lead to her current major

is in dueling club because it makes her feel like she's at home with her brothers again.

loves getting down and dirty, will play in the mud or go dance in the rain.

misses her farm dearly

brought her two snakes and a piglet named itsy with her to school. (yes she caught the snakes and delivered the pig herself.)

all in all she's a super bubbly girl, the definition of the color yellow and gives off the vibe of the girl everybody knows even if they aren't close. she's outrageously kind, but morally grey as she can understand the meaning behind certain behaviors. shes got some religious

[liber-at-domum]

💬 👻 🎙️🎓? Hehehehe^^

hi!! thank you!!<3

💬 best comment you’ve ever gotten on your work?

"perfect, I can't add anything, completely correct"

"...Like she showed us in her wonderful presentation..."

"...You set a high standard for the rest of the class now..."

Basically any type of appreciation for my work and its quality.

"Are you a master's student, what do you mean your a first semester student?"

explanation: I joined courses outside my field and for master level and the professors were always impressed by my contributions to class.

👻 share an academic horror story! (bad group projects, missed an exam, etc)

It was a group project but the other student never messaged or replied to me so I did almost all of it alone. He had his own presentation slides but it was horrible and he was overall arrogant and never said anything useful. Fortunately, although it was supposed to be ungraded, the professor noted that I was doing it by myself, mostly.

Another one is that I failed an exam solely because of time management issues and when I took it a second time I did pass besides time issues but in the end it was unnecessary as I switched majors and won't need it any further.

And last but definitely not least was this one lecturer, very young, freshly done with his undergraduate studies, and extremely arrogant who never gave us instructions in a first/second semester course and when I handed in an obligatory paper on exegesis, he basically said I had to improve my native language, my writing is awful, I can't even write properly in terms of grammar and basically insulted me. I think, he also asked me if my native language was even German or if I didn't learn it as a child. I was incredibly angry and upset, everything I accomplish will partially out of spite for people like him.

🎙️someone in your field, dead or alive, that youd like to have a conversation with?

Theology: Jesus obviously, Helena Augusta, and all of the Church Fathers especially Tertullian.

Cultural Anthropology of Textile: a Sardinian woman from the early 20th century (apart from my family) to talk about the art of Sardinian weaving but besides that, I can't think of any. Maybe because I'm new in that field and haven't had much to experience and learn yet. Perhaps Magdalena Buchczyk

Literature and cultural studies: Jane Austen, Mieko Kawakami

I know these aren't actual academics for the most part but instead subjects to my studies, yet I find a lot of them more interesting.

🎓 a teacher/mentor figure that has had a huge impact on your studies?

Dr. Andrei Zavadski, a lecturer and writer who is settled in Dortmund and Berlin, did change and broaden my horizon recently on how to views museums, or furthermore different methods of museums to handle and display Textiles in consideration of remembrance, post-colonialism, tactility etc.

A few years ago, Dr. Sebastian Hanstein, used to teach at the University of Cologne but now transferred to Siegen,helped to spark my interest in church history and ancient sources. I was really enjoying it and I attended more courses than I was obliged to because it was so much fun to read and discuss the letters and books of the Church Fathers like Tertullian, Ignatius etc.

[therapeuticmonologues]

GQ: You’ve studied the prosperity gospel—this idea that in return for faith, God will provide for you—but have you also studied other, non-faith-related self-help as well?

KB: Well, it’s a common misconception that self-help is not a spiritual genre, which it is. It's largely based on the metaphysical tradition that imagines that our minds are powerful incubators. It has formed some of the primary assumptions of what we call the American Dream. It’s individualistic, and assumes a very inflated sense of agency. It's hyper instrumentalist, meaning it always assumes that you don't just have truth, you need tools, you have to make everything into a strategy. All of those are really based on beliefs that have a long religious past. That metaphysical tradition believed that the mind was the most important spiritual generator, that our minds were the thing that aligned the power of the universe with our own abilities. That was the beginning of “good vibes only.” [laughs].

It's the beginning of this obsessively modern iteration of the self-made man, especially the self-made businessman. It came out of the rise of cities, rise of income inequality, people started selling these cheap self-help books on street corners that tried to explain why some people rose and other people fell. There's different versions, but all of them have the same belief in a rabid individualism. Some look explicitly religious, others look Pentecostal, others look like just cowboy movies, people who can always do it on their own.

It slowly grows into this stable of literature we call self-help, which is there to support the idea that if an individual just takes on a certain set of habits and mindsets, they will be able to conquer any of their circumstances. That little set of beliefs is the heart of self-help, and it just has a very long history in American culture.

From "Why Simply Hustling Harder Won’t Help You With the Big Problems in Life: A conversation with author and self-help historian Kate Bowler about how productivity culture is a lot like a religion."

[cambion-companion]

Hello! i imagine aemond follows the trope "bad to everyone but you", so you could write a one-shot where they grow up studying together in childhood, the reader loves history and he is completely whipped by it

One-shot time!! Aemond x reader

No content warnings | lots of fluff | Aemond being a nerd

Most children liked to play outdoors, running wild and scraping up their knees. You, however, were not like most children, preferring the company of books to that of your peers.  You took shelter often in the library of the Red Keep, surrounded by dusty old tomes stacked to the ceiling.  Shortly after your eleventh name day, one particular afternoon, as you sat nose deep in Chronicles of Ancient Targaryen Philosophy, the usual heavy silence of the room was broken as someone opened the heavy oak door and entered.

You looked up from the page, eyes taking a moment to focus on the young boy now walking over to join you.  “Aemond, I haven’t seen you in a while.”  You had grown up practically at the young prince’s side, only being a year apart in age, and would even have called him “friend” had he not changed so after the incident with Rhaenyra’s children.  The left side of his face, still heavily bandaged, was taking a long time to heal.  The maesters had been unable to save the left eye. Aemond had become much more withdrawn into himself and prone to fits of temper ever since, despite what he had said about it being a “fair trade” for Vhagar.

Aemond sat himself to the right of where you were currently studying, grabbing a book at random and opening it with a dull thud.  “Leave me, I wish to be alone.”  The boy snapped.  Mildly hurt but not surprised, you sighed softly and made to exit the room with the silent library keepers.  Aemond placed a hand on your arm as you moved past him, “Not you.”

Reseating yourself next to the prince, you reopened your volume and stared at the words, unable to concentrate.  Your eyes darted up to where Aemond sat and found him watching you with his one eye, “What are you reading, Y/N?”

You shifted the book towards him so he could look at the text, “It’s a study on the ancient traditions of Valyria, I’ve already finished most other books that cover the topic and am finding this one to be the most comprehensive narrative.”

Aemond didn’t look away from your face, “I’ve taken more to reading the writings of history and philosophy myself…as well as studying the blade.  It is difficult, however, what with…”  He gestured to his face and sighed, flopping back against the chair.

“Are you alright?  We haven’t spoken since-”

“Do I look alright?”  Venom dripped from Aemond’s voice as he snapped out the words through gritted teeth.  You withdrew slightly and his tone softened, “Tell me what you’ve learned about Old Valyria, distract me Y/N.”  It was more a plea than anything you had heard before from your friend and you wanted desperately to help in any small way you could.

So you regaled Aemond all you could remember from the many volumes of history, literature and philosophy you’d read.  Many hours were spent with the two of you up in the library together, hours turned to days, days into months, and months into years.  Your fondness for Aemond only became stronger as he grew into a handsome young man, cunning as well as a fearsome warrior.  He wore an eyepatch to cover the eye he had lost, and you were the only lady who knew what truly lay beneath.  

Aemond, for all his mastery of blade and book, was never able to completely control his temper.  Except around you.  

One drizzly autumn day, as you watched him train with Sir Criston from the shelter of the stone hallway, another young warrior jeered from the sidelines as Aemond barely dodged an attack aimed where you knew his blind spot to be.  It was a small thing, at least so it seemed, but Aemond whirled on the man, grabbing the front of his shirt with one hand and raising his sword with the other.  

“Aemond, leave him!”  Sir Criston tried to pull the prince off to no avail.

You gathered your skirts and hurried down into the courtyard, your boots sinking into the soft mud as you approached the struggling men.  “Aemond!”  Your hand found his and you gently pried his fingers away from the other man’s tunic.  “He’s not worth it.”  

Your voice was soft, but it seemed to break Aemond out of a trance.  He pushed away from Sir Criston, lowering his sword and turning to you.  You squeezed his hand briefly before dropping it, all too aware of the many curious eyes on the two of you.  Nodding to Sir Criston, you made your way back to the Keep, not before you thought you heard a muttered “thank you” coming from Aemond’s lips.  It was so soft, however, you couldn’t be sure you hadn’t imagined it since your friend hardly ever said those words.

That same day as the sun rode the western sky, turning the trees golden as it sank toward the horizon, Aemond found you in your usual place next to the fireplace of the empty library, your head bent towards a book.  You felt a warm familiar hand on your shoulder and looked up with a smile, “I’m glad you found me.”

He huffed out an affectionate chuckle, briefly running the back of his finger down your cheek, “It’s not exactly difficult Y/N, you have very few refuges of habit.”

Aemond pulled a cushioned chair nearer to you and sat, thrumming his fingers on the arm.  You closed the History of Dragonriding on your lap, turning in your seat to face him.  Your knees almost brushed as he mirrored your movements, “Something is on your mind.” It wasn’t a question, you could read Aemond like any of the books in this library.

“Something is always on my mind, Y/N, but…you are right. I have been preoccupied of late.”  The flames from the fire were casting shadows across Aemond’s face, his eye roved across your features, lingering on your mouth.

“You have been my good friend, and a friend to my family, all my life Y/N.”  His hand reach across the distance separating you two and rested atop your own, “You possess an intelligence many lack, I never grow bored of our conversations.”

You smiled ruefully, “I’m thrilled, Aemond, truly…but why are you telling me this?”

Aemond leaned forward, long silver hair spilling over his shoulders, “I wish to court you, Y/N.  I want you to be mine.  You will be mine.”

You stood in alarm, a look of incredulity on your face.  Leaning over the prince, you touched the back of your hand to his forehead, “You must have a fever Aemond, it has burned away all sense from your mind!”

You let out a small sound as he grabbed your waist and tugged you forward causing you to collapse into him, straddling his lap.

“This is hardly proper!” Your words stirred the strands of shimmering hair caught on his face.

“I don’t care.”  His breath smelled of spiced apples.

“Aemond, someone will see!”  You pushed fruitlessly against his chest.

“I don’t care.”

You stopped your feeble attempts to free yourself, your hands splayed across his chest.  

“Look at me.”

You obeyed, looking fully into Aemond’s face.  He brought his hands up to cradle your head and brushed your noses together affectionately.  “There is no other woman in the world I could love, Y/N.  You are the temperance to my rage, the half of myself I lost all those years ago.”

You breathed out his name, Aemond’s violet gaze dropped to your lips.  You both moved as one, bringing your mouths together in a kiss that now seemed years overdue.  The firelight danced across your joined forms, the only witness to a blossoming love that would last more than a lifetime.

[natsbaby]

The Contract [18+]

Pairing: Professor!Natasha Romanoff x Student!Reader

Summary: you go meet with your professor for the requested 8 pm and it opened the door of opportunities for both you and Nat

Warnings: a LOT of sexual themes that leads to sex (mentions of foreplay but not like sex-sex, mommy kink, Dom and Sub contract), cursing, mentioned drinking

(Long) A/N: this might be the closest you guys will get to smut from my end (for now 👀) but thank you guys so much for loving this little projected fantasy- story of mine! It’s officially my birthday so this is my way for thanking you guys for being my 2021-2022 plot twist by opening this new “mini series”!! It’ll take time for me to actually update this and I don’t have an idea how many parts this will be so lets see!! Hope you guys enjoy 🤩

Tags: @jayxxace @readings-stuff @romaaa28 @yvungmxshroom @karmasgxrl @hallefuckingluyah @donnietarantino

Staring is Bad [pt 1]

“Oh my god? oh my god…. oh my god???!! oh my god!!!!” you say animatedly through all the emotions while staring at the piece of paper in your hands.

This is literally what you’ve wanted since the moment you stepped into the lecture hall and saw your professor writing her name on the board. On one hand, your logical brain is thinking that this is an absolute horrible idea through and through. If people gets the idea that there’s anything between you and Natasha then welp, goodbye future. But on the other hand thats curious and will benefit your you-know-what, this could be a fun experience and maybe no one will find out! Its college, you’re both adults and there’s no rule with student-professor relationships.. that you know of.

Before you could even put the paper away, a sudden weight falls on your back side causing your knees to buckle. Luckily, you caught your balance on time as your attacker giggles at your suffering.

“My gosh Ellie!” You groan as she gets off you causing her to laugh.

Ellie’s your classmate in a lot of your mechanical engineering classes and you’d normally hang out with her when your normal best friend is in her other english major classes. She became your best friend too throughout then years you’ve known each other here in college.

“You were so deep in thought, you okay?” She asks with a tilt of her head causing you to sigh. She’s heard of Natasha, but honestly who doesn’t?

Natasha, alongside some other professors, are known to be this group of really attractive set of professors throughout the different majors. Professor Stark for the engineering classes, Professor Rogers for the economics and history classes, Professor Maximoff and Professor Romanoff for the literature classes, and Professor Danvers for the aviation classes. Honestly they’re all annoyingly attractive it isn’t fair at this point.

“So I’m guessing this is a girl problem?” She teases as she glances at the piece of paper clutched against your chest. Your reaction just gives it away as she gasps in shock and excitement. “So it is??”

You think about it for a moment, not wanting to show off as a booty call but luckily Nat didn’t put any initials or alike so you can pass this off as a student than a professor.

“You’re so not ready for this” you chuckle softly as you hand her the piece of paper. She excitedly takes the paper, reading it and she gasps at the end.

“Oh my god!! Who is this? Do we know them?? Are you going?” She asks excitedly, bouncing at the balls of her feet that it reminds you of an excited child who was given permission to eat ice cream for dinner. You shrug in response as you take back the paper.

“I’ve been thinking about it, might be fun but on the other hand, I’m busy and we have school” you rationalize as you both start walking to your next class. She scoffs at that, rolling her eyes in response.

“Come on, We’ve been friends throughout college I already know you at this point. You don’t study so it just means you’re considering it” you grin at her as you bat your eyelashes innocently.

“Of course, I’m also not stupid when the opportunity to meet with someone hot after class hours comes along”

The cold night air blows causing your skirt to fly up a bit, and a shiver run through you. You’re wearing a black mini skirt and a black button down thats tied at the front and 2 of those button are unbuttoned to show your cleavage a bit more than normal, just enough to tease. You’re also wearing your black kitten heels to put the look together with your normal makeup and wine red lipstick. You had to make sure Ellie nor your best friend would catch you, so you made sure to make something up and prepare for the worse.

According to your best friend who graciously helped you get ready since she’s the only one who knows about Natasha, you look great and you honestly do feel great. You start to feel your hands clamp up as you walk closer to Natasha’s office. Your heart starts to increase in intensity of heart beats as you finally reach her door with the “Professor N. Romanoff” plate on it. You take a deep breath as you raise your fist to the door, silently praying to whichever god is watching over you at this moment.

You gently knock on the door, waiting a few seconds and finally heard Nat saying ‘come in’. You open the door and the first thing you noticed is how dim it actually is at night despite the yellow fluorescent lights giving the room that dark academia glow. It’s your first time to be in her office and you can’t help but glance around at awe at the ceiling to floor bookshelves, full of literature books of all languages.

“Wow” you say softly as you look around while going in the room, and blindly closing the door behind you. Nat chuckles at your reaction, smirking as she leans against her table behind her.

“Welcome to my office, your first time?” You nod in response as you notice the dark brown leathered furniture, specifically a really comfortable looking couch at the back of the room. You hear Nat’s heels clacking against the wooden floorboards causing you to look at her, her dark forest green eyes looking at you as if you’re her prey and ready to pounce. She stops right in front of you, raising her hand to your cheek and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You look absolutely delicious, darling” her seductive tone causes a shiver run through your spine, Nat’s perfume invading your senses as if its an aphrodisiac and your brain just short circuits.

Nat’s smirk widens as you unconsciously whimper at her actions. She takes a step forward, causing you to take a step back until your back bumps against the door, letting out a thud from the sudden impact. Nat places her hand against the door behind you and uses her other hand to trail her finger up and down your arm, sparks flying as she does that.

“I’m glad you came” she says as she slowly leans in then down, your eyes widening and swallow deeply to get rid of the lump in your throat.

“R-r-really?” You stutter as you unconsciously glance down. Due to Nat’s heels, she’s towering you at this point and it doesn’t help that her cleavage is almost literally right by your face.

“I wanted to offer you some wine, have a small conversation before I make a move but..” she trails off as she gently presses her lips at the spot behind your ear. You feel a hot spark go down to your lower region at that, gasping as you feel her warm breathe.

“It’s hard to control myself when you’re here looking so sweet and pretty for me, ready to spread your legs for me with just one look from me” she says softly, almost sweetly if it weren’t for the seduction and want dripping thickly in her voice.

She presses another kiss at the same spot, placing more kisses trailing down your jaw as you let out a series of whimpers and grip into Nat’s arm that’s now trying to open your top. She smirks smugly at your reaction to her actions, she continues her kisses down to your neck. You gasp at the sensation of her lips against your neck, feeling your knees weaken. Nat notices this as she continues her kisses and uses her free hand to hold you by the waist and pulls you against her.

“You’re mine now sweetheart, and I’m not letting you go”

“You seriously took your- OH MY GOD Y/N!” Your best friend/roommate exclaims as she sees you the next day. Her jaw drops as you look like you’ve been through absolute hell with all the hickeys on your neck, your top wrinkled from your last night’s events and half-hazardously buttoned up causing a button to be out of place and your stockings basically gone. You smirk at your friend as you put down your phone and wallet on your table as you start to grab some clothes from your side of the closet.

“Gosh that was such a great night” you sigh dreamily as you lean against the door of the closet so you could face your friend who’s on her bed, now sitting up intrigued with what you have to say.

“You look like you’ve been to a brothel” she jokes but scrunches her nose in disgust as she catches a whiff from you. “Gosh you smell like it too, I’m guessing she’s that good?”

“Yea” you say with a dopey smile as you recount last night’s events. “But don’t tell anyone or I’m gonna kill you”

Nat crashes her lips against yours, kissing you such intensity and conviction that makes you melt against her. You drape your arms around her neck as she paws at your breasts through your top, growling against your lips as she notices your lack of bra. She slightly swipes her tongue against your lower lip, you open your mouth slightly allowing Nat to push her tongue in to messily make out with you against her door.

“She did not” your best friend says in shock as you get out of the shower in your dorm room, rubbing your towel against your hair to remove the excess water. You chuckle at your friend’s dumbfound look, nodding in response.

“I know she’s physically hot but wow that woman knows her shit you know” you say as you sit down on your friend’s bed. “Anyway”

Nat picks you up by the thighs and leads you to the couch in her office, placing you down and hovers over you as she attacks your neck. She’s a woman on a mission and she hums in appreciation as she finds your soft spot and your little sigh in pleasure turns her on even more. “Professor-“

“Call me Natasha” She mumbles before sucking harder, nipping and licking at the area to form a hickey as your hips unconsciously move to find any source of friction to ease the warm and uncomfortable sensation at your lower region. Nat pulls back and smirks at your whimper from the loss of sensation.

“Will you be a good girl for mommy?”

Your best friend gasps as she violently whacks your arm and leg as you laugh hysterically at her reaction.

“Oh my god Professor Romanoff has a mommy kink oh my god????” She says in complete disbelief as she stares at you with wide eyes.

“That’s all I’m telling you okay? I honestly shouldn’t have said more but PROMISE don’t tell anyone okay?” You look at her seriously who agrees to not tell anyone at all.

You smile and stretch, a satisfied groan leaves your lips as you lay down. “Gosh that was so great”

“Will you two doing whatever relationship this is? Or is this a one time thing?” She asks as she lays down besides you. You shrug as you sigh.

“I hope there’ll be more, but you never know right? She said she’ll call me but let’s see” as if on cue, your phone rings causing the both of you to jump as you scramble for your phone and answer it.

“Hello?” You ask as you both look at each other with confused looks.

“I’m surprised you can still talk properly from all the screaming last night” Nat teases over the phone as she waves goodbye to the last student as they leave the room. “I’m sorry for making you leave in the morning, normally I would cook you something and stay in but I had a morning class”

“It’s no problem, I get it” you say as a grin forms on your lips as you watch your best friend’s mouth ‘oh my god??’ while waving her arms frantically. “Do you still have any classes today?”

“That’s why I called actually” she starts as she quickly glances at her calendar on her table. “Can I see you? To make up for this morning”

“Sure I’d love to” you say with a smile as you try really hard not to laugh at your friend’s shocked and excited expression. “I don’t have any classes today so I can meet you in 15 minutes?”

“Perfect, see you in my office” Nat ends the call and you slowly put your phone down.

“Oh my god I’m meeting her in 15 minutes” you say in disbelief as your friend squeals loudly causing you to squeal with her.

You finally arrive to Nat’s office, raising your first to knock but the door suddenly opens revealing a different professor.

“Professor Maximoff?” You ask as you quickly glance at the name plate on the door. Wanda chuckles softly at your shocked look, giving you a kind smile.

“Ah, Y/N it’s been a while. How’s Y/B/F/N?” She was your best friend’s professor for a few classes and you’d normally wait for her outside of the lecture hall to hang out. After some times of you doing that, Wanda would notice your presence and sometimes allow you to sit in so you wouldn’t wait outside, basically being an honorary member of the class.

“She’s doing alright” you reply as kindly as you clasp your hands together behind your back. “Is Professor Romanoff there?”

“Wanda, stop terrorizing my student” Nat scowls as she walks up to the both of you. Wanda smirks at Nat as she gently pats her cheek gently.

“I’m not, I happen to know Y/N as well” Wanda says nonchalantly as she looks at her wrist watch. “Anyway, I have a class to teach so I’ll see you for dinner Nat?”

“Of course, see you” Nat waves at Wanda as she leaves, making you also wave goodbye but you stop halfway as Nat pulls you into the office, closing the door behind you and crashes her lips against yours causing you to groan.

“Let me make it up to you from this morning, alright?” Nat mumbles against your lips as you whimper in response causing Nat to smirk a little at that. She pulls back after some time causing you to gasp out and breathe in some air. She gently holds your wrist and leads you to her table and you see a small stack of paper with a bold title on top.

“Submissive Contract?” You ask as you pick up the top page as you read it.

“I’m a dominant outside my teaching profession and I’d love to have you as my submissive. It’s alright for you to say no but-“ you cut her off by plucking the pen out of her right breast pocket, leaning over her table and signing your name on the dotted line. You hand the pen back to Nat who’s looking at you with a shocked but amused look.

“You’re not even gonna question it?” You shake your head no then smile at her innocently, sealing the fate of your journey with Nat.

“You had me the moment I walked into your classroom, now you can have me for as long as you want. I believe it’s a win-win situation for the both of us, don’t you think?”

[eastern-lights]

Eastern Lights’ Guide to Classical Philology Courses

Introduction to Classical Philology - You come to your first class. You are alone. The doors creak. A pile of books enters. “Oh, welcome. I just brought some of the dictionaries I’d recommend getting,” says the prof barely visible behind said pile.

Latin Morphology - You never thought so many suffixes even existed. Turns out the Romans had a verb form expressing a tense you never even heard of.

Latin Syntax - The only place where “I spent the whole night studying all kinds of cum” is not sexual in the least.*

Ancient Greek - lol you thought latin was bad - enjoy learning three asses worth of declensions written in physics formula

Everyday Life in Ancient Rome - You feel kinda bad for the prof with four academic titles having to answer questions like “How did the Romans, like, deal with being gay?”. (The answer was “They had gay sex.”)

History of Ancient Art - witness various artists from multiple cultures go on a millenium long quest to depict the tiniest possible dick. You also get travel recommendations from the prof, down to which metro lines to take.

Greek Mythology - there’s always at least one Percy Jackson smartass who will get their illusions shattered

Greek Literature - go back to a simpler time when “an old lady told me” counted as a valid academic source

Roman Literature - taught by the same man who taught you Intro to Classics and Life in Rome last year. He assumes you’ve become fluent in latin since then. He assumes wrong. He’s not mad, just disappointed.

Reading of Latin Texts - Ovid is the first author you read. Not Caesar. Not Sallust. Fucking Publius Ovidius the-noun-and-the-verb-don’t-even-share-the-same-zip-code Naso. Silver lining is, you now know how to describe a loom in latin.

Interpretation of Latin Texts - Reading on steroids. Taught by the man who taught you Roman Literature. He’s still disappointed. Any attempts to translate Catullus’ profanities with anything less than R-rated language will be taken personally. Leave your euphemisms at the door.

* cum is a conjunction that has a lot of meanings depending on context

[alluringjae]

until dawn - 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: 14k

⤑ genre: fluff, humor, angst | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, college!au

⤑ warnings: jaemin mentions onlyfans as a joke, references to actual historical figures (some try to flirt with jeno lol) and literature, explicit language

⤑ author’s note: wow, i’ve had this idea for almost two years! this one was inspired by one of my favorite childhood movies, night at the museum. it definitely required a lot of research and brainstorming, and finally i brought it to life! it was so fun to play around with the characters, and even if majority of them are real people, this is all still fiction.

i also wanna mention one of my moots, marge for enlightening me about her life as an architecture major.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome​ (dm me if you want to be added) 

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Dormitory rent was another thing to worry about aside from the inflated university tuition per semester. Although he’s lucky to have his parents backing him up already on it, paying the monthly rent for his dorm was the remaining objective on Jeno’s list.

Plus, money for food. The man was a heavy eater, following the whole “gym is life” mantra.

Splitting it already with two of his dorm mates turned best friends, Renjun and Jaemin, his plate felt lighter. But the question still lies: where on earth was he going to get the money?

He’s practically checked out every available part-timing job in university and anywhere near campus. Barista at the same café Jaemin works at, teaching assistant for an art school for kids, convenience store cashier, library assistant, all taken in a heartbeat. The burden of his friends paying his debt these past months took a toll on him, almost to the point he almost considered making an Onlyfans.

“Yah, just find something else! Part-timers are in demand right now!” Renjun intensely closed his laptop before his older friend gets any suggestive thoughts.

“I mean, you didn’t work out your body to look the way it is for nothing.” Jaemin pitched otherwise, lifting the front back up. “When do you want to start filming? Loads of chicks would dig a piece of you!”

The contradicting opinions of his friends were like the devil and angel debating on his shoulders. Useless, he gave this worry a rest and returned to drawing new plates. A common thing when you’re an architecture major. Those deadlines were nearing. Looks like he’ll pull another all-nighter again.

Good thing most of his classes were late in the morning until 6 pm.

As if someone from above heard his petition, Jeno saw a help wanted sign posted on the bulletin board outside of the university museum. He initially went there to document some artwork and architecture models from Greek and Roman times, further analyzing how they’re still apparent in modern buildings.

The sign explained the need for one part-timer from any college to cover the night shift of the museum due to the current night guard’s full semester absence. He only had to come in 3x a week, choosing his days since he was still a student. Even the pay was above average, considering that most part-timers never go beyond midnight. Jeno would, on the other hand, always staying for his projects or gaming with the boys. Drinking sometimes during late-night Fridays with his entire college crew.

The pay would leave him a load of extra cash for himself, thus he sent an application to the museum office right before he left. A week later, while he was out with the boys, he got a text from the office that they wanted to meet him again for a final interview first thing on Monday.

Perhaps it was having architecture as his course and a healthy physique that landed him the part-timer position. Mainly, the latter because guards required strong endurance and fighting skills when worse comes to worst. It would start at 9 pm until 6 am the following day, and there was a designated uniform of it too. Blue blazer with matching trousers, white dress top, and loafers.

Aside from the typical museum etiquette the head director instructed him about, there was an unofficial list of tips written on paper given from the night guard on leave when the director handed you over his box of office-related things.

Only read at the night guard office once you’re the remaining staff left.

He did as he was told like an obedient son, flipping the succeeding page.

 To my temporary replacement,

This part-timing job is nothing regular than the other jobs. You’ll witness things as you’ve never imagined them to be, almost like witchcraft. You’ll be lost and maybe frightened, or that’s how I felt the first time because no one led me through it all those years ago. Lucky for you, I made this small guide on how to properly take care of the place that the other staff doesn’t know about.

Before you proceed, I request you take a 5-minute stroll around the lobby first to understand what I’m talking about. After such, go back to the office or somewhere quiet then browse through the guide as quickly as you could.

Art is timeless here, so they need to be taken care of.

Good luck!

 Park Sanghoon

Night Guard on Leave

 Nothing could’ve prepared Jeno for what’s to come once he unlocked the office door. They say that art brings so much color to our life, allowing us to feel all sorts of emotions in a glimpse. But no one ever interpreted art to be literally alive and walking in the halls.

Behold, random wax figures and marble sculptures that he’s seen in the past roamed the hallways, as well as the paintings were interacting with each other side by side. Even the standee of a puppy from the entrance played fetch with one of those sculptures. He swore he looked like Hermes the messenger god from his arrow headpiece and sandals.

It made more sense why the guard on leave explained his feelings during the first day because it resembled Jeno’s. But unlike that guard, Jeno sucked it up. No one ever does well on the first day, even if others say otherwise. The first day was a learning experience, so he collected his thoughts even though the goosebumps triggered his body during that one rotation.

There was an indoor garden, already locked by the day guard earlier. The only room without any art piece, where students lounge to study the plants or relax in nature.

The sculptures section ahead, showcasing various fictional figures specifically from Greek mythology, chattered away about family drama and beliefs. The sculptures of Hades and Zeus, according to their title plate, argued relentlessly about power while Athena always intervened by shouting or even throwing arrows or daggers to any of the lightbulbs there.

That was one rule in the guide, but Jeno didn’t know yet until he came inside the room and swerved the attention of the arguing duo.

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeus, in the center, straightened his posture on his throne to present himself in a more regal way. “Are you perhaps the temporary replacement of Sir Sanghoon?”

“Sir Sanghoon’s stand-in is rather good looking, don’t you think?” Hera mused, stepping down from her throne beside Zeus to take a closer look at the taller male. Her cold fingers trailed his jaw until his chest, where his heart was beating intensely. She even pinched his toned bicep, mouthing wow.

“Truly handsome you are, my dear. So full of life, please introduce yourself to us.”

While Jeno introduced himself to everyone in that room, he answered any sorts of questions they had for him too. From his age, educational background, hobbies, Aphrodite just had to ask him if he had a girlfriend because he was that handsome.

“Nope, I’m single. With my degree in architecture, the requirements are so heavy I can’t even try dating.”

Mentioning his degree excited the gods, telling him how their people created and designed all these temples to house them and perform rituals. They loved it so much. This was a copy-paste of what Jeno learned from his history classes, and for a first, he’s hearing the perspective of the Greek gods.

Mind-boggling that he hasn’t fully freaked out yet. That’s what Athena anticipated when Sanghoon told her about his short leave, putting her in charge of everyone for the meantime while the replacement settled down.

The college museum was built during the late 70s as a gift from one of the alumni. It was for the purpose to preserve history and educate college students outside the classroom. The Greek mythology exhibit was the oldest one, making Athena have more seniority. Over her stay, she’s seen every new guard lose their senses during the first night. Some not even returning for a second night. She got used to every outcome, and so far, only 8 people lasted after the first night. A couple of students in the 70s and 80s, Sanghoon in the 90s, and now Jeno was one of them.

“Jeno, aren’t you terrified by us? You just got a job in a museum that comes to life every night, and it’s not a normal thing.”

“Well, I’m still shaken up about it. But it’s my first night, and it’s when I learn everything about the place from head to toe. Plus, I really need the money.”

“Money for what? But you’re young, a student even!”

“Yes, I am. However, I do pay for the rent in my dorm. So, this job is like my first big responsibility, and I want to perform well.”

Athena commended his sense of authority, capable of leading himself. She noticed how well-spoken and poised he is, respecting and listening to everything the gods and goddesses said even if they were nonsense. She never liked to compromise with her power, taking a while to like Sanghoon back in the day. Though Jeno looked like a natural leader on his first night. If he could take care of himself well, he’s skilled to take care of the rest in the museum as well.

Plus she had full control on the nights he won’t be there, especially the weekend.

With his potential, Athena mentored him the entire night about the gist of the entire museum. Every upcoming leader needs an intelligent mentor, right? She was naturally gifted with worthy leadership skills, managing Jeno like her own child.

Athena explained how the museum came to life, which was through a royal golden plate from the Oriental room. It was a gift from a popular sorceress in China to an affluent family from the Han dynasty, who wished them a long life after she was saved from invaders due to them. The plate preserved over time, becoming an artifact. Its power remained immortal, mutating to bring life wherever it goes. In this case, the museum since its arrival in the late 70s as well.

“That’s why the Oriental room must be locked always so no one could touch or break the plate.”

After she ordered Jeno to lock the mentioned room, alongside the Foreign Art Exhibit Room which he checked out for his class, she led him to the best view of the entire museum. Center of the second floor, where stairs were on both sides. Jeno marveled at the vivacious atmosphere, witnessing actual art living, breathing, and enjoying themselves.

“Unreal, right?” She leaned in the railing, scanning through the chatty paintings.

Jeno also leaned down, deep in thought and wonder. “Absolutely, Athena. How come no one knows about this? Art coming to life? It’ll invite more students to the museum.”

“That goes against a golden rule as a night guard in this museum.” She replied bluntly. “The life that goes on inside this museum at night must remain a secret to the public.”

Jeno predicted this kind of response, having watched too many films where anything supernatural mustn’t be revealed. Although he liked the advantage of knowing something this powerful, he’d never abuse it.

Athena’s intellect was beyond the world, seamlessly reading Jeno’s expression and what he was thinking. He had good intentions even if he’s a bit mischievous. She needed to keep a keen eye on him, but for now, he needed to explore on his own.

“Anyways, Sanghoon still left out some other details. So if you have any questions, I’ll be at my exhibit trying to shut my father and my uncle up again.”

“Can you not use any weapons to do so?”

“Can’t make any promises, Jeno.” She slyly cracked her knuckles and neck as if she was fighting another battle.

Jeno was silently left with himself, finally browsing through Sanghoon’s guide while seated in one of the museum benches.

It consisted of 25 rules, wherein the first two rules consisted of locking up. One, for the doors and gates of the museum, so no art piece could escape. If they do, they will turn into dust when the sun is out according to Athena. Two, locking the Oriental and Foreign Art Rooms, which was already done.

Rule #5: Let Mochi the puppy from the lobby tag along with you; feed him treats if you have any.

On cue, the little guy barked from the corridor and raced to his side. Jeno carried him, babying him for a little and letting him lick his face a few times before putting him back down. He’s surely going to the pet store first thing in the morning with the museum allowance the director gave him.

Since he was on the second floor, he read and followed the rules that fit in before returning downstairs. On the other side of the floor were the wax figures exhibitions: one for prominent men in history while the other for prominent women. Well, more people to get acquainted with.

It’s the exchange of gasps and profanities he received when he chose the latter room. Seeing their faces, these were women he’s learned in school and online. Now in the (fake) flesh. Except for one girl he’s never heard of, unbothered in her corner sketching her life away in a sketchpad. But before he could check who she was, a suggestive touch on his arm distracted him.

“My, oh my, Hera wasn’t lying when she said that the new night guard was a fine specimen.” By her dark blue eyeshadow and eyeliner with the snake-like crown, Cleopatra studied him like he was one of the most renowned art pieces. Even patting his chest, abdomen, and arms with both her hand, Jeno caught a suggestive glint in her eyes and a smirk across her red lips.

Rule #13: Reject Cleopatra’s seductive advances at all costs.

“Goodness, Cleopatra. It’s only his first night, and you’re scaring him.” With her accent, round eyes, and a chic formal outfit, she carried a posh aura while unhesitatingly scolding the Queen of the Nile.

“Come on now, Diana. He’s stunning, who wouldn’t go after him?” If no one knew her, you’re not reading up on your world history. She’s said to have been a lovely and intelligent woman, gone so soon. Jeno definitely understood why after she detached Cleopatra’s raging hands off him.

Rule #14: Treat Princess Diana and Hera like your own parent.

“Your highness.” Jeno nodded at her out of respect, only making her chuckle uncontrollably.

“No need to address me like that, love. Now, come here.” She widened her arms for Jeno, hugging him amiably. He sensed her motherly warmth, accepting such a gesture. “You remind me so much of my youngest son, Harry. Welcome to the night shift of the museum, love.”

Similar to the Greek mythology exhibit, he introduced himself and responded to any questions that the women wax figures may have. Good for him, they weren’t crossing any borders and kept him at ease.

“A student like you working at night to pay rent?” Katherine Johnson, an African-American NASA mathematician whose calculations led to the success of a lot of famous spaceflights, cannot believe her ears. Students must only focus on school, nothing else. “What about your studies, boy?”

Rule #15: Engage in academic discussions with Katherine Johnson whenever you can.

“Most of my classes are in the afternoon, Miss Katherine. So I’ll sleep in the entire morning later and study during my breaks.”

“Mr. Jeno, what do you like to do outside of work?” Anne Frank, a German-Dutch teenager whose revolutionary diary that documented her life in hiding from the Nazis gained popularity worldwide after publication dreamily asked from her section of the exhibit. Her life was robbed of greatness merely because of her religion and war.

Rule #16: Bring delicious food or gifts to Anne Frank.

“Well, I like to bike with my friends, exercise, and draw whatever comes into mind!”

Everyone he’s met so far acquired pleasure in knowing about who he was and his passion for architecture, ridding the “freaking out” phase Athena assumed he had. Yet not everyone in this exhibit bothered to give him a shot.

Jeno’s attention from Anne talking about her crush towards Peter van Daan, a teenage boy who lived with her, switched to the section beside her, where an unacquainted figure was zealously sketching as if something was due to the following day. It reflected how he’d look when he’s cramming one of his plates due to first thing in the morning. While he properly excused himself, he quietly gazed at the way this woman scrunched her eyebrows when she erased something then drew it again. She was someone he’s never seen or heard before, reading the information plate in front of him about her.

 (Y/N) (Y/L/N), Explorer and Author. (1854-1900)

 Wealthy women in the Victorian Era only served one purpose in society: marry a man from a prestigious family, have his children and join whatever interests they have. However, for (Y/N), she wasn’t going to conform to those standards.

Born into the affluent house of (Y/L/N), she was the youngest of 8 children. She was said to be the kindest and sweetest sibling out of everyone, not capable of hurting anyone or anything. She said it herself that she can’t throw away a dying flower because it’s too painful. While 5 of her older brothers were sent to school, she stayed at home with her 2 older sisters Cecilia and Amelia where she learned how to play the piano and take voice lessons from impressive teachers. Due to the huge age gaps between them (12 and 8 respectively), she never felt close with them. She was only closest to the 6th and 7th siblings, her twin brothers Benjamin and Liam whom she only had a 2-year gap. She was also best friends with one of the scullery maids her age, Lily, because she found her amusing that than the boring rich girls her mother forced to interact with.

The moment it bothered her that she wanted to live a more meaningful life was when Amelia got married. She was 12 years old at the time, and it left her as the last unwed daughter in the family. Badly did she want to revolt, which she gradually did. Instead of practicing piano, she’d sneak in to read every book in her father’s office. She secretly studied the notes of her older brothers from school and even dressed as a boy numerously thanks to Benjamin and Liam to join their classes or field trips.

This was her routine up until the age of 18 when she stomped her foot down and expressed to her parents that she wasn’t going to let Victorian society dictate her. The night before her parents were bound to send her to her great aunt’s home down South to sort her out, she successfully snuck out her house thanks to Lily, Benjamin, and Liam. It’s another good thing that she saved a lot of money for that moment.

Off she went across Europe first, then sailed to America and even parts of Asia. Initially under the name Lilibe, coined from picking the first two letters of her brothers and best friend, she documented her days and nights through her journals and sketches. Over time, she sent them to her brothers for publication. It started the franchise, “The Adventures of the Young and Free Lilibe”. There are 10 books under it.

She learned French, Spanish, Mandarin, Japanese, and Korean by herself as she made friends from those places. It was rare of someone like her to be fluent in Oriental languages, surprising locals every time she spoke to them. She was the only explorer to vividly describe life in different Asian lands in English, talking about their history and culture. With her accurate drawings of diverse citizens and their daily lives, it educated a lot of those living back home in Europe about them rather than speaking lowly of them.

In Seoul did she stayed the longest until her death from pneumonia at the young age of 46.

In her posthumous work, Finding Me, did she reveal her real identity, dedicating it to her parents whom she apologized and expressed her love for them despite everything that occurred between them. She talked about the last years of her life in Seoul, how locals were so nice and inviting to her, and how she adopted kids instead of having her own through the years.

“It’s not because I never found love in men. It’s more like I found love in doing things I’m passionate about. Traveling, learning new cultures, it outweighed the human need of romance.”

Due to her thrill in taking risks and embarking on wondrous adventures, it brought inspiration to a lot of young girls pressured to marry at that time to pursue what they really want.

 A remarkable background you had, Jeno contemplated. How come no one discussed her in his classes?

You kept brushing the bangs of your hair back as it fell repeatedly. But you got irritated instantly because it sabotaged your drive, you brought out a hairpin from her desk and attached it on both sides. But when you shifted your angle of focus, the corner of your eye locked with Jeno’s attentive gaze.

He didn’t flinch, even he should’ve. He wasn’t one to linger his look on anyone’s physical appearances, but your story and the passion on your face as you sketched mesmerized him. He was charmed, to say the least.

“Uhm, hello there?” You broke the silence due to your uneasiness about it. What’s his deal?

Jeno bowed, reintroducing himself to you. As soon as his presence settled in the room when Cleopatra attempted to hit on him, you could’ve cared less. Though this man was a first for you, a first in a long time as all guards would feel intimidated by you during the first night. Even your sharp tongue didn’t faze him. “Staring is rude, sir. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

“She did,” He wandered through the exterior of your section, by the fence that separated you and him. Not breaking eye contact, his eyes turned into moon crescents as he smirked with trouble. “Though she also told me to appreciate the art too.”

Snorts noisily exhaled from Cleopatra, who took the center section of the exhibit, succeeded by Princess Diana’s whispered gasps and Katherine’s side-eyeing Anne beside her while she taught her math. That was an odd way a guard conversed with you, but Jeno was merely doing what the rules stated. Partly, he was impressed with his cheesy pick-up line, partly embarrassed because he’s never spoken like this to anyone.

Rule #17: Act playfully around (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to break the tension; she’s a harsh one.

There was irony between the information he read about your life versus the wax model. Even when you faced sexism and ran away according to your history, never were you impolite to anyone in your life. You couldn’t even kill a lurking fly when it roams around your food! It showed Jeno a possibility that as much as you’re just a wax version of someone famous in the past, maybe the external environment around you had a heavy influence too.

“You fool!” His confidence exasperated you, urging you to persistently throw balls of paper with your failed sketches at him. No one dared to talk to you like that, most especially a night guard. “Take that for your comment!”

If you thought he’d scram away and act repentant, you were proven wrong. His reflexes were parallel to a spider, capturing every single paper ball without fail. Up and down his body went, one arm held on to them and no more were left on your part. Never a single defeat during the first meeting in years, but that seemed to alter now.

“Give up already, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” Jeno remarked vibrantly as he discarded your mess in the trash bin behind him. If he managed to get everyone to like him tonight, he wanted to make sure to have you onboard too.

Whatever agenda he had, you weren’t up for it. You’d treat him the same way you usually treated Sanghoon for the past 20 something years: cold and ignorant. From your stool, you left your comfortable position to come face to face with this man. He better be grateful for that barrier in between you, or else you would’ve caused mayhem.

“Never in your wildest dreams, Mr. Lee.” Your mouth gave a half-smile, clenching on the bars to liberate your annoyance. Before you could fend back, that’s when Princess Diana intervened between your heated dialogue.

“Oh heavens, children!” She stood by the barrier, mostly to protect the newbie Jeno with her body. “(Y/N), he just wanted to know you. Must you be so cross?”

This Princess Diana embodied all the traits the real one had: soft-spoken, intelligent, and protective. She’s gotten so used to your gradual temper, staying on standby whenever anyone tried to mess with you. Even if it was harmless, you could get so mean!

“Diana, he was mocking me! Saying such a sleazy phrase as if to amuse me, ha! Not a chance, I hate people like that.”

“Not us women though; you just despise men in general.”

“And you’re absolutely right!” With a smug smile, you greedily rejoiced. “Anyways, escort this disgrace out. I’m not in the mood to get angry when I have a lot of inspiration on mind right now.”

While you resumed your sketching to let go of that extra steam, Jeno was left with Diana who apologized on your behalf. Your pride was too high to do that, and as the motherly figure among them, she always took care of things in your exhibit.

“I’m so sorry for that, Jeno. She’s not really like this, but I know how much you tried your best. It was quite a fresh spectacle honestly.”

Whatever was responsible for your abrasiveness, Jeno yearned to know. He couldn’t understand who you were yet even knowing your life story. All he wanted was to get along with everyone. It was the key to successfully maintain his job for the next 6 months.

“How can I make her come around then?”

A demanding question that no one had a solid answer to. Diana recalled how much Sanghoon didn’t let your dislike for him get to him, maintaining a respectful boundary in between each other after his past attempts. Though with Jeno, observing how he riled you up and your focus entirely on him, she hasn’t seen anything like it since the 80s.

There was something in Jeno that may just get you to warm up and return to your kind nature.

“Aside from acting playful, as Sanghoon recommended, I can think of two ways, love.” By the doors of her exhibit, where Jeno was already waltzing the corridor to visit other rooms, she suggested smartly. “One, argue back to her opinions. She hates whenever anyone tries to get her way, but boy, you’re just as wise as her. No one was brave enough to peeve on her until you came.”

“How about the second way?”

“Do your research, love. Aside from libraries, you have those small technology devices that allow you to search up anything.” She tousled Jeno’s brown locks as if it were her actual son’s. Some habits just don’t die when you do.

“Brush up on your history, Jeno. Not only will it help you with (Y/N), but it’ll serve purposefully with the other art pieces here.”

Boy, he was ready to crash in his bed for a few hours after all those interactions. His introverted nature required to be revitalized.

Towards the last hours of his shift, the art pieces who’ve strolled in the first floor lessened his plate by not leaving any major clutter behind. As if she listened to him, Athena didn’t break any lightbulbs too.

His main highlight would be meeting the men of the historical male section, who flaunted a more humorous ambiance. Freddie Mercury from Queen insisted he drink a glass of his wine and to bring more wine next time, which he denied since it would against Sanghoon’s rules. King Sejong the Great and Martin Luther King Jr. argued back and forth over the most random things (pineapple on pizza specifically), while Steve Jobs mediated whenever one crossed the line. Meanwhile, William Shakespeare was too preoccupied in his writing and speaking to himself about his books, wondering how to improve them.

During one of his breaks today, he multitasked drawing a new plate with his research on every art piece to know them better. He started with the exhibit of sculptures of the Greek gods and goddesses, which were Zeus, Hera, Hades, Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Artemis, Dionysus, and Circe. They weren’t the complete roster because the rest were in other museums across the globe, as said by Athena before sunrise. The majority of them he knew what they were in charge of, but the rest were foggy to his knowledge. Typing away and jotting notes down, he started downloading his favorite jazz songs too.

Rule # 4: Play jazz music to the paintings on the first floor so they can relax and dance within their frames.

Circe is a minor goddess, the daughter of the sun god Helios. She’s recognized for her versatility in incantations and herbs, capable of transforming people into animals. From Jeno’s perspective, she’s mostly within her space with her journals and magic wand, trying new spells or combinations of herbs. For the latter, he had to keep a closer eye on.

Rule #9: Don’t let Circe, god of potions, into the Oriental Room to get plants and herbs.

He discovered that Dionysus is the god of wine, happiness, and theatre. That’s why every god in the exhibit had full wine glasses during their gathering. It also added up why Freddie Mercury always comes to him when his bottles run empty, though he mustn’t go overboard.

Rule #18: Make sure Freddie Mercury doesn’t get too drunk from the wine of Dionysus; he might make numerous scenes if he does.

After his lone studying session, he took a short trip to the pet and convenience stores to buy food. He got a dumbfounded look from Jaemin back in the dorm room, who was studying for one of his quizzes in Biology in a couple of hours.

“Woah what’s with this stash? Is it for yourself or something?”

“The museum surprisingly has a lot of tasks needed to be done at night. And no, not from my wallet but the allowance they gave me before you get a heart attack.” Jeno plopped on his solo bed, covering his face with a pillow.

“Thank God.” A relaxed sigh escaped Jaemin’s lips, taking back his balled-up fists meant for his roommate. “I think I would’ve stormed that boring museum if they made your broke ass spend a cent.”

“Boring?” Jeno removed the cushion hastily, eyeing his busy and coffee-high roommate. The scent of black coffee from his mug spread in the room, assuming that this upcoming test was testing his roommate’s patience again.

Not even trying to look at Jeno while reviewing his handwritten notes, Jaemin continued giving his opinion. “Museum culture is dead, Jeno. Not everyone has the time to roam around one, plus people can always look up the artifacts online these days.”

People were entitled to their own opinions on numerous things, though Jeno begged to differ with his roommate’s. Especially after witnessing the magic of the night shift, you shouldn’t merely judge a book by its cover. In this case, you shouldn’t judge an artwork or art piece merely on its history and legacy.

Maybe because his roommate was in the science department, he thought this way. A lot of art students regularly visit the museum both for fun and for their classes, and Jeno was one of them. Though he was too sleepy to explain his side, he let it slide for now and snoozed throughout the late afternoon.

An hour before the start of his shift, Jeno promenaded the emptying museum to inspect anything else he might’ve missed out on from last night. There were two areas according to his rotation, both in the first floor.

One was the Diorama Room. Divided into 4 sections, highlighting some of the well-known ancient civilizations in world history. Ancient Egypt and Ancient China to your left, Ancient Rome and Ancient Maya to your right. They acted as if they were the actual people during those times, giving Jeno a laugh when they cracked jokes in between. Such tiny figures, yet the rule for them said otherwise.

Rule # 7: The small figurines in the Diorama Room are feisty, so make sure they don’t fight with one another again.

The remaining room left was the Theater Room. He’s never been here, though his art friends have for film festivals held by the university.

The interior of it was set to look like an actual cinema place you’d see in a mall. There was a mini lobby with a few posters of iconic films over the years. Singin’ in the Rain, Back to the Future, Titanic, those were some framed and hung on the wall. There were two other doors there: one leading to the chairs and the other where the movie projector was. The latter room was pretty riveting, wherein you can choose to watch old short films through an 88mm film projector or switch to a cd player for the newer releases.

Back to those posters, they weren’t an exception to the magic and a simple rule was left for Jeno to do.

Rule # 10: Chatter with the movie posters in the lobby of the Theater Room; they love meeting new faces.

Since there wasn’t anyone checking out the Art Rooms on the second floor, he closed them. Though as he was about to lock the Oriental Room, the ravishing plants around the royal plant appealed his interest. Said to hold magical properties from his research, Jeno was reminded of another rule to keep in mind for later.

Rule # 3: The fake flowers in the Oriental Room come to life too at night, so when no one is lurking, water it diligently.

Instead of lounging at Sanghoon’s office first, he brought his important items to the front desk of the lobby and continued sketching his plate. He wanted to watch the art come back alive with his two eyes. Usually, he’d have coffee when he does his work, but due to another crucial rule in the guide, he’d rather not take the risk.

Rule # 6: The lobby room can get rowdy, so keep any drinks away from important items.

On the dot, the cries and yawns from the art pieces around him reverberated. Closing his sketchpad, his night guard mode was on. Connecting his laptop on the aux cord of the museum speakers, he tapped play on his playlist of jazz music that’ll last for the entire shift duration. As the first notes flooded the entire vicinity, sounds of joy left the lips of each painting. Some were humming, dancing, and even singing along.

“You can never go wrong with Frank Sinatra!”

“This Jeno lad really did the heavens’ work quick!”

Having the sense of accomplishment on his sleeve, the small barks of his fluffy pal reached closer to him. As he kneeled to find him, he was only taken by surprise as Mochi excitedly jumped on him. Tumbling over, Jeno chuckled innocently as Mochi licked his face numerously. This puppy was friendly, easily liking everyone at first sight. He wasn’t as choosy like Daegal, the puppy of his friend Chenle studying Business Management.

Once he composed himself and cradling the dog like his own, he fed him a dog treat from the desk.

“Good boy, Mochi!” He rubbed his fur while the puppy happily munched on it, ready to fulfill more of his duties.

He skipped the Greek mythology exhibit since Athena was doing a good job not letting anyone go overboard with their powers, though he’ll check in again in a few hours. He met the posters of the theater room, who were celebrities he grew up watching on tv. Sanghoon was right; they were the kinder group in the entire museum because they were more laidback.

On to the second floor, all the female wax figures lounged by the male section due to another lecture from Shakespeare. Although the guide informed him that most of the time it could get boring, this lecture was more stimulating. On his platform, he elaborated with conviction the lines of one of his famous books, Romeo and Juliet. A must-read book back in his high school days, there’s no way Jeno could’ve missed that out.

From the looks of it, Jeno perceived that Shakespeare was performing spoken word poetry due to him reading only Romeo’s lines while Cleopatra read Juliet’s beside him. This kind of show was one of the sources of entertainment to these figures, so Jeno leaned by the side of the door to listen. After all, the famous author of it was a few feet away. Cleopatra channeled such a naïve character to her ability, absentmindedly saying as she clutched her chest.

“O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”

“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”

“'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose-”

The flow of an engaged Cleopatra was abrupted by the loud yell from Shakespeare in front, specifically to an amused Jeno. “Jeno, my boy! Welcome back!”

Such an announcement diverted everyone’s attention to the back, some running to Jeno to give their respective greetings. It’s rare for everyone to feel at ease with a new guard, taking them weeks to approach them due to the intimidation. Though Jeno’s bright presence felt welcoming, so they accepted it. Perhaps it’s because of his youth, it reminded them of theirs too.

Shakespeare highly requested (or forced) Jeno to take his part as Romeo, intrigued to watch someone younger read his lines. Since most of the male wax figures were aged, it never satisfied Shakespeare so he jumped on this opportunity as quickly as he could. With the roaring cheers from the other figures, Jeno might as well give it a try. It wasn’t like his friends were here to clown him like they usually would if he did something humiliating.

Jeno shockingly liked this activity as he wasn’t much of a performer on stage, but someone who does the behind-the-scenes of it. He realized as he read the lines from the book Shakespeare asked him to follow along with why people held university-wide spoken word shows a few times per semester. He was no actor, but it’s delightful to have tried it at least once in his life.

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” As if the edge of the platform was the balcony of Juliet (or Cleopatra rather), he knelt as he ardently spoke his lines. He’s emphasizing this rush of uncontrollable desire for her, rambling whatever he would do to get the girl.

“What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?” Cleopatra questioned from her chair, inching closer to the young boy. Even outside character will she attempt to charm Jeno, but Jeno was quick to catch it and kept his distance.

“The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.”

“I gave thee mine before thou didst request it, and yet I would it were to give again.”

“Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?”

“But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

Everyone was condensed by their top-notch acting, as if this was the actual play unfolding before them. Jeno wasn’t so sure how he got himself in character without preparation, yet he felt what his character felt. He comprehended the material a lot better now than when he was still in high school.

However, there was always that one killjoy to ruin the heartfelt mood.

“How dumb is it to say that you’re in love after the first glance?” You opposed, putting the spotlight on you. This book was said to be a classic in literature, but as you matured physically and mentally, you could no longer agree with it. “Isn’t love the same thing that killed Romeo and Juliet in the end?”

Remembering what Princess Diana told him, he wasn’t going to let this pass. He wanted to give a piece of his mind too, caring less if the show must be paused. “Love is an emotion we don’t ask to feel. It’ll come to us when we least expect it, even when the timing of it can be crucial.”

“Of all the people Juliet could’ve gone for, it just had to be the enemy.” In all the years you’ve been brought to life, no one dared to test your opinions because they were aware of your intelligence, from the streets to the books. When someone bark, you’d bite back. Hard. “With all due respect, I love your works, Shakespeare. Yet the fate you’ve given these two at a young age was grave, could’ve you given them a better outcome or another character to love instead?”

“Giving them extra characters to love won’t address the horrific life fact that love can be dangerous. Regardless of what status you’re in, you can’t stop the attraction towards someone. The heart wants what it wants.” Jeno pressed his hand to his chest, pumping it a bit. Unknown to you and him, the audience found more entertainment in your argument. Anne, who was munching on the popcorn Jeno gave her earlier, passed the snack to Katherine who just couldn’t stop watching.

If this man wanted a challenge, you’re all ears. Who was he to compete with you? Was he not intelligent to know who you are?

“So are you insinuating that we just go with the flow? Be a slave to our emotions too and let them dictate our next motives?”

“Slave is such a strong word to use, (Y/N). But it’s not like we can’t choose who want to love because we actually can. In this case, Romeo chose Juliet and vice versa.”

“But what happens if the person you choose doesn’t choose you in return?”

“At least you tried your best, right? It’ll hurt like hell though, but it won’t last forever.” From his kneeling position, Jeno strutted his way with confidence. Trying not to let it mess with you, your extreme stare at him as if they’ll shoot lasers. Inches away from you, Jeno declared. “Love always has risks, that’s a given. Romeo and Juliet still tried and followed their hearts despite the downfall. But it was a needed downfall to get the message across.”

“No one would be that foolish to risk their lives for love though, right? Life is so precious, why would they do such a thing?”

“Even if they knew what their lives were without each other, they still preferred living a life where they were both in the picture. Therefore, they tried all they could that time because the regret of not doing anything at all carries a heavier burden.”

Whenever anyone argued with you, their debating points they spat back would further piss you off because most of the time, it never made sense. Back when this rude man told you to go home and be a wife in your earlier years of exploring, you civilly told him to fuck off, kicking his balls because he cornered you in an alley. For the first time, a man who tried to challenge you actually made sense. Was it because he lived in a modern time, where minds were more open? Because of the amount of sexism you faced in the past, you’ve turned a blind eye to the current period.

But your high pride maintained, not submitting into anything he said. “I still think it’s stupid to risk your life for love. There’s no such thing as having only one true love anyways, and you have to be alive to see it.”

“Fair point, but again, the feeling of regret and carrying it your entire life doesn’t fade easily. It’ll make you reflect on the what-ifs, and it’s heart-wrenching.” Jeno digressed, walking around you in circles. He’s intentionally trying to drive you mad, but he could care less. He wanted someone to put you in your place and open your mindset. “The question stands: would you rather try and go for it even knowing its risks or regret not even trying for the rest of your existence? Quite ironic for me to ask you that, don’t you think?”

Past the information board, Jeno researched more of your life history online. Your whole life was grounded on risks, from breaking the standards of your society, leaving your family and home country, to fending yourself from disrespectful men. Rather than living the original life expected from you, you chose not to because it didn’t make you happy. Such a risktaker he knew you are, but with the topic of love, he wondered why you were on a fence with it. Though some records stated you’ve had rendezvouses with a few men in your journeys, love was never in the equation. The single life was what you chose and you were more than satisfied, plus your adopted kids filled that supposed void anyways.

This man may have studied your history, but so much he still doesn’t know. Information that never made the books because you chose not to write or tell anyone about it. Aside from the discomfort growing in your chest, everyone else felt the awkward tension when you were lost for words.

Never been defeated in an argument, until tonight. Your mind lost its drive and willpower.

“Touché, Lee Jeno.” Indeed, his name you’re acquainted with. Numerously passed around in your exhibit, mostly from the lips of Cleopatra, who’d fantasize all the graphic things she would do to him. Too much information, least of your interest. “Please excuse me. I’d like to work on my sketches to ease my mind.”

As you quietly exited the room, an all too familiar sculpture leaned against the railings overseeing one side of the museum. Just like you, she hated accepting defeat or compromises. She always rooted for you to win. With a faint chuckle, “Facing a loss for the first time, I see.”

“Don’t even lecture me about it, Athena. I’m still fired up, and I need to relax.”

“Jeno is a different breed, isn’t he?” She stuck to your side, strolling wherever your feet led you.

“Different as in he’s a man? Yes. What else is there to it?”

“Men these days aren’t as trashy as those back in the day though. Shouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“Last time I did, it destroyed my heart. I’m not allowing myself to let men in even as a friend, Athena.”

She knew exactly what you were referring to, not touching on it further. No way will you let heartbreak or disappointment from men bother you. Even Sanghoon’s sweet company took a while to tolerate. You really needed to sketch this out on your pad right now, excusing yourself from Athena’s presence. Isolation wasn’t new to you; it’s what’s protecting your entire being. Immortal as you are, you had to recover from the past pain so the next decades won’t feel as brash.

You hoped to return to your old self when you were a fresh new figure in the 70s. So naïve, only proud of your accomplishments, and purely happy.

While Jeno continued to finish his scene in respect to Shakespeare, he received a standing ovation for his mini-show. Cleopatra didn’t expect such talent from him, growing fonder of the younger male. Whether she seduces him or not, he was never afraid to try new things and she liked that about him.

“Bravo, love!” Princess Diana praised, clapping at him.

Although Jeno appreciated all this positive attention, his thoughts bounced back to your and your stance on love. The debate earlier was just out of being playful, interested to hear your opinions. Though, he’s worried that he might’ve offended you. It may have been time to finally witness something like that, but then again, he was sure he touched something personal to you. No matter how you tried to fight it off, your eyes can’t lie. Staring down at him, there was pain beneath it. Your eyebrows scrunched to the center, thinking deeply yet remained utterly speechless.

A win he didn’t feel good about.

“It’s time she encountered something new in the years she’s been here. Give her some space tonight, then try again to reach out to her. Kindly this time; I’m not in the mood for another brawl that could end up like the Greek gods’ past fights downstairs.”

These clever words shared by Katherine loitered his mind for the rest of the night, eventually going back to finishing his current plate since everyone was behaving well. As great it is to get the approval of the majority, he tried brainstorming ways to make you like him too.

He understood the whole “men are trash” concept in today’s modern society, but if he could prove it wrong to at least one person, it would be you. Whatever is holding you back, he only hoped that you’d let it go. Questionably unsure as to why he was so persevering, he concluded that it was so he could perform his job better as the night guard. Set higher standards than Sanghoon even.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Weeks passed, and his attempts continued to be unsuccessful.

The capability for you to ignore his efforts remained strong, whether he was pestering you over small things or debating with you again about anything. Life, books, morals, the two of you always head butt each other. Anything good he did, you searched for a flaw in it. Whatever acts he’s tried and continued trying, not one flinch from you ever.

Even if that’s his state with you, his job no longer felt stressful nor strenuous. He’d try to sleep more on days he was off-duty. Although the fatigue of staying beyond his usual sleeping time was inevitable, he compromised to take a nap lasting an hour or two when the art pieces weren’t acting frisky.

Plus, there have been multiple times they adapted to any alterations so his physical well-being wouldn’t fall sick. Per order of Princess Diana and Hera, who by instinct became his motherly figures here, only wanting what’s best for the kids.

He became accustomed to everything that went on at night, discovering things on his own without Sanghoon’s guide. Anne talked about how much she missed biking in her neighborhood, so one night, Jeno snuck his bike inside and let her use it around the first floor. With proper monitoring so none of the paintings would be unbothered or pieces wouldn’t tumble.

Hermes the messenger god was fluent in every language possible, so every so often, Jeno would freely speak to him in Korean because sometimes he felt he could explode by the amount of English he used every night. Bilingual things, you know. He knew you were multilingual too, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t converse with you.

Because Jeno was heavily favored, that should’ve been enough to push through his night shifts before the end of the semester. In addition to that, the hourly rate was above the average of whatever Jaemin or Renjun was earning. For the past 2 months, Jeno paid upfront first, even paying back all his debts. It almost made Renjun want to switch jobs with him.

“Trust me, Renjun. You don’t want it, being the lowkey scaredy cat you are.”

Work no longer felt like work, and that’s what everyone aspired to feel. Nevertheless, he tended to worry over you mid-shift, glancing at you from his side view. Sketching, reading, and writing were your default actions. No matter how many times he said to himself not to let your dislike for him affect him, it’d always backfire.

Why were you so cold?

What made you lose your fire from all the research he did about your lively personality?

When morning arrived and he gathered his stuff, you’d be the last thing he’ll check on. Frozen in your standing pose, smiling as you held a book and a pencil, he detected how fake it was. Bystanders would only assume your happiness was from your achievements, though Jeno’s gut firmly pried that something grand overpowered that happiness. And definitely, not in a good way.

Out of all the art pieces, he investigated on you the most. Skimming through every material in the library, endless searching on the net, even asking professors from the History department thanks to Renjun, he did whatever he could. People may already think he was obsessed with who you are, but only little did they know.

Another plate was done and submitted, and he promised himself to look you up one last time before surrendering. For someone who’s rarely given up on a challenge, this one was really out of his control. Maybe he should follow Sanghoon’s footsteps now.

You lived centuries before him, and there’s limited material of you left. Rather than learning of your adventures again, he dug through what things you liked over your life. Maybe by giving one of them, it’ll lessen the tension from a 100 to 99. Maybe you preferred gifts over words, he’ll never know until he tried.

Boom.

According to one of your journal entries, there’s a fond liking you’ve acquired for lavender roses from Benjamin and Liam when they visited you in Paris in secret because of how much you missed them. It went both ways, praying your family ties could be recovered.

It’s a good thing he needed to refill his stock of items for the art pieces so he could pass by the flower store a few blocks away from his dorm. That night, without further words, he graciously offered you a fresh lavender rose in between your new sketching session.

“I may not know exactly why you’re spiritless around me, but with this rose, I hope we could work something out.”

Your frigid face of disdain, keeping your chin high and squinting your eyes with judgment, began to crumble down.  Of all things as a peace offering, he gave you that? Then again, it’s not like he knew that an item you liked so much became something you’ve grown to hate and why so. No history books could teach him that.

Vulnerability was a normal thing, yet feared by many. Once one uncovered your weak spot, they could harm you. You still couldn’t trust Jeno fully, not willing to show your helplessness nor were you ever going to tell him. Hidden from his knowledge, everyone else including Sanghoon were familiarized as to why this kind of flower tormented you.

You sprinted like thunder out the exhibit room to wherever it’s private to control your senses. You may not have a physical heart, but your emotions were just as actual as a human’s. You needed to regulate your panting breath. In the past decades, you’ve not shed a singular tear but the cycle broke when they streamed out your miserable eyes like a flowing river. Quiet sobs, an empty corner near the fire exit was where your wobbly legs faltered, the painful memories of the past replayed in your head. Once beautiful, but now an agonizing reminder of what could’ve been.

Katherine, Cleopatra, and Anne were swift on their feet to hunt you down, anxious of what you may do next. Seeing or the mention of these flowers still affected you despairingly. Sanghoon must’ve forgotten to write them down, or perhaps he didn’t know either about this fact during all the years he’s worked there.

It’s one of the biggest secrets of his museum. By the clueless face Jeno had with his eyebrows raised, mouth, and small eyes slightly open, he repeatedly asked what he did wrong and adding that he never meant to harm you. Indeed, they knew that yet what occurred involved a secret in the list of museum secrets. Confidential only between art pieces according to Athena, none of the male wax figures spoke a word, only pitying the boy.

“I wasn’t here yet that time, but they said that it was once beautiful, but now it’s a rough period.” With hesitation, Princess Diana chose to reveal it to rid Jeno’s misery. She didn’t mind having to argue about it with Athena later on, as this may further affect the two of you later on.

“A long time ago in the early ‘80s, there was a night guard around your age named Junmyeon. Also, a college student, trying to make ends meet. He did it for 3 years until he graduated. Though within his stay, not only was he such a delight to everyone, he broke a golden rule in the guide. I believe you do know the guide much more now, Jeno?”

“Yes, I do, Princess Diana. Memorized it even, but which one specifically?” Jeno’s desperate eyes pleaded, only hoping for the best and to fix what he messed up.

“You can form friendships with the art pieces, but nothing more.” Princess Diana replied bitterly. “Junmyeon was an aspiring painter, a different path from his business-oriented family. He was seen as the black sheep. She resonated with him, sharing the burden and lifting it by doing whatever fun they could in the museum. In time, they both fell in love with each other; they were each other’s first loves.”

“Why must something beautiful like love be broken? It’s not like you can control it. That golden rule makes no sense.”

“It does, unfortunately. Wax figures like me cannot age, while humans like you can. None of them could accept the reality, always pushing it away. Until Junmyeon’s last week in university, he broke it off with her unexpectedly. From there, (Y/N) was heartbroken for decades. With heartbreak, giving the cold shoulder and bitterness followed. Then with the lavender rose you gave that she used to love became a flower that she associated with Junmyeon too because he gave her one almost every night for those past 3 years.”

Things finally added up, and the guilt in Jeno’s gut expanded. His major lightbulb moment was a major failure.

“Has Junmyeon ever returned to try and win her back?”

“Well, there was one time he did come back for an art exhibition for his paintings in the 2000s. I was already here, then he had a woman around his shoulder with an adolescent boy holding his hand. He roamed around our exhibit and kept gawking at (Y/N). We may be asleep, but we remember the conversations exchanged in the room. So, his son then asked him if he knew who she was.”

“What did he respond?” Jeno attentively listened, on the edge of such a hurtful tale.

“He knew her name, praising her for historical achievements. However, nothing as a former friend or lover. From what I predict, he ingested one of Circe’s potions.”

“But I thought Circe isn’t allowed to make potions for actual consumption. She’s not even allowed to enter the Oriental Art Room.” Jeno pointed out, overwhelmed at the puzzling past. Princess Diana was mindful that she had to stop spreading too much information, so she had to end her discussion with the lost boy.

“There are a lot of secrets about this museum, Jeno. Unfortunately, I cannot reveal to you to protect our peace.”

With due respect, Jeno quit his follow-up questions and concerns. The only thing he wished to do was mend his relationship with you. As vague as to where you even stood in the first place, he unintentionally crossed a line due to his selfish intention to befriend you.

“What can I do now, Princess Diana? You know I’d never push her buttons like that, even if I’m a whimsical person.”

“Oh, my boy.” Princess Diana soothed, holding both her hand on his sweaty palm and cupping his cheek. “For the meantime, give her space. No taunting for a while, and just observe her from a distance. Though do not fret the slightest; I’m sure she’ll be okay again.”

During that interval, you were hunched on the wall, bawling and weeping like the wound was brand new again. While Katherine and Anne stood by your side, on the lookout for anyone who’d be spying on you, Cleopatra knelt in front of you as your infinite tears gushed down.

“My dear,” She tried to wipe some of them while holding your hand. “It’s been years, and Jeno didn’t know a single thing. He didn’t mean to do it.”

“I don’t care, Cleopatra! He should’ve stopped trying to socialize with me because I won’t ever live down my experience with Junmyeon.”

“As if crying like this will bring Junmyeon back to your life,” Cleopatra exclaimed, holding in her temper. Acquainted with heartbreak, it’s awful that it changed you entirely, but you should’ve found a way to heal. Throughout your attitude change, it’s mostly you in pain, not those you inflict it to. “My dear, I love you a lot. But this Jeno boy is different, and you know it.”

“He’s still a nightguard, for Christ’s sake, Cleopatra.”

“You shouldn’t generalize that all night guards are bad just because of one encounter that occurred at the wrong time.” Brushing some strands stuck by your wet visage, she professed to you bluntly. “You’re never going to know how good Jeno is unless you slowly open up again, (Y/N). Not forcing you the slightest, but healing started once you’ve acknowledged the past and move on from it.”

“But I’m scared, Cleopatra.” You restlessly admitted, hunching even more against the wall. Your poor, metaphorical heart could only take so much. You barely expressed sorrow towards others as you always held a strong exterior, only letting it out alone. Not holding back anymore, Cleopatra brought you in for a hug. The last time she did that was the first night after Junmyeon left, calming your intensified emotions so you wouldn’t do anything dumb that night. No violence, just pure sorrow.

“My dear, it’s alright.” She whispered while stroking your back upwards. “But you’re a risktaker; that’s how people remember you. Now, you must challenge yourself to move on from things that didn’t work out. Because once you do, it’ll put your heart and mind at ease.”

“Do you think I’ll be okay again?”

“Yes, you will be, my dear. You are not alone, and never will be.”

Acting like the dutiful son he always was, Jeno distanced from you.

He still cracked jokes, chatted with the art pieces, and followed the rules, yet never did he utter anything to you. You’ve proudly anticipated it since day one, not wanting him up in your business or teasing you ever. But this time, it felt odd.

On nights he didn’t report, you’ve unconsciously wondered what he may have been up to. A job like this at his age was just as Sanghoon once said: nothing in the regular.

Was he with his friends?

Was he resting well?

From the moment you chose to let go of your limitations and old thoughts, it included your grudge against past guards. Asking for forgiveness to Sanghoon when he returns was on the top of your list, however, that’ll take a while to happen. In the start, you’re baffled as to why he no longer picked on you like every night he’s been present. Somehow, it became a habit you’ve gotten used to, having so many comebacks planned to fend yourself. But you didn’t want to concede to it, maintaining what was left of your pride since that breakdown.

While on the subject, you suspected if anyone told him anything that night because that also indicated the last time he reached out to you. By anything, it would be your unwritten past with Junmyeon. A part of yourself in the museum that you didn’t want to disperse like rapid-fire again. It would be the last thing you wanted Jeno to know.

To your misfortune, Princess Diana came clean due to your growing concern over it. Although your attitude changed and people got used to it, you could only blame yourself that you were responsible for Jeno’s change.

“All he wanted was to understand and enlighten us with his likable presence. Then with you, you were his challenge because of your high walls. Out of everyone, he tried to learn everything about you. From my observation, whenever he has a goal, he’s determined to achieve it.”

“But I’m trying to be better now, Diana. Why did he stop?”

“He may have determination, but he knows where the boundaries lie.” Princess Diana patted the side of your arm, giving you a half-grin. “It hurt him when he hurt you, even if it was accidental. So he opted to give you space; that way, you could catch a breather and he wouldn’t harm you anymore. It was what you wanted from the start anyways, right?”

A hard pill to swallow, though it was a fact. It’s just that now, you’re slowly willing to release yourself from the dark. It’s been decades, and more to come. Nothing can move on unless you do.

“Where is he, Princess Diana?”

Just as she predicted right on the edge, Diana completed the grin on her face and led you to the entrance of your exhibit. She may be younger than you, but you’re reverted in your twenties while she remained in her mid-thirties. Gaping the wide museum from the railing, starting from the painting exhibit in the lobby to across the other side of the museum, Diana spotted the black hair of the boy in the Foreign Art Room.

“Over there.”

Observing where her eyes focused, you caught a glimpse of a recognizable side profile. The owner’s eyes were completely taken by whatever he was drawing on the fold-up desk he brought out from the storage room. By the tedious action of his right hand going up and down, you’ve gotten so used to his part-time identity as the night guard to entirely dismiss his current status as a university student.

Architecture specifically as he first introduced himself to you. The same path your oldest brother, Christopher, worked in. The look of tenacity Jeno presented as his eyebrows continuously scrunched, his crescent orbs hastily spied his work for any unnecessary details and his veiny hands brushed his already messy hair, you were profoundly reminded of Christopher when he was designing his possible future house. You were 8 years old, and he was 22, who just got married. He explained how many floors it’ll have, what rooms to put and what extra furniture he’ll place to make it feel more at home.

Seeing how exceptional his art skills were, you started to sketch like him. With flowers first, it turned into bedrooms and sceneries of your neighborhood. You felt your shoulders rise in accomplishment when you were able to accurately draw people. As much as you credited Benjamin and Liam the most in your works, it’ll only be within yourself to know that you also held a soft spot for Christopher.

Excusing yourself to Princess Diana, you bravely yet quietly ventured into the Foreign Art Room. Hiding first from one of the cement columns, you resumed watching him sketch. Instead of a pencil, he used a black pen with a tip as thin as a pencil. Your assumptions would be it was for a class, basing it on him informing everybody earlier that he’ll be inactive for the remaining hours of his shift to focus on his midterm requirements. That must be difficult to balance, yet he still does everything expected from him. Maybe the second cup of iced coffee beside him stimulated his bones and mind, letting his imagination free.

Through the limited space, you tiptoed whilst holding the side of the column to make up his work. There were 2 and a half rectangular shapes stacked on top of each other, the third one he was still tracing. A sign encrypted with tiny written words you couldn’t decipher, the beauty and modernity of Jeno’s plate cannot go unappreciated.

“That’s absolutely beautiful.”

Sweet words you didn’t think would bounce back in the room, Jeno’s pace ceased whilst you hid again. Art pieces capable of walking weren’t allowed here, he locked the door even beforehand! Or he thought as he was rushing to get his work done because one of his terror professors moved up the deadline to tomorrow morning. Not even 25% finished, he petitioned for everyone’s cooperation just for tonight.

He used up his 2 days of not having the night shift for other projects, and not wanting to ruin his perfect attendance, he proceeded to show up.

The voices from the foreign paintings around him hushed for him out of respect. So possibly someone snuck in, his head looking around for intruders. But only did he quit it when he saw your blurry reflection leaning against the column. The glass windows slightly mirror back what it sees, without you knowing that.

Not to mention, the small bit of your lilac dress was left out. Of all people, it was you?

“Do my eyes deceive me or is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) inside when she’s not allowed so?”

To break the killing tension, he tested the waves with an innocent taunt. Never did you reach out to him, so least to say he was entertained whilst keeping his distance.

Fixing your proud stance, you responded in a low baritone voice you used to persuade numerous men in her adventures. “Uhm no, I don’t know who she is.”

As intelligent as you were, Jeno was a few steps farther than you this time. Educated about the risky ways you’d get around and one of them was changing the pitch of your voice, he heartily laughed at your unsuccessful attempt.

“Okay don’t lie, (Y/N). I can see a trail of your dress and your cloak. Oh, your reflection too.”

Damn, you peeked a little to realize that he was correct. Hauling your dress back in to readjust your outfit, you pushed your hair back before appearing to him. Though when you did such, you didn’t suppose that he was practically beside you the entire time. Bumping into his towering stance of 5’10 while the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, your proud posture loosened up. He even discarded his blazer. A few more inches, he could’ve cornered you on the column if you didn’t take another step back.

Has he always been this tall or were you so used to your boots having high heels under? Oh wait, maybe because you wore flats this time because it’s making your toes sore. Your head bowed from struggling to maintain eye contact with him, your palms caressing your cheeks that suddenly heated up. Clearing your throat, you straightened your back again like nothing happened.

Jeno thought otherwise, shrugging his shoulders as he chuckled. He’s never seen you get shy, not that it was a bad thing either. The temptation to play around it more was there, but he was running out of time for his assignment.

“Come in. I’ll let you off the hook this time.” His arms opened up, allowing you access to such a wonderful exhibit. Paintings from different European periods, miniature versions of famous infrastructures inside glass containers, and replicas of Greek columns in the front entrance, no wonder it’s important to protect them all.

“Are you sure?” Watching him return to his spot, which was a bench in the center of the exhibit with a table in front, it didn’t process that you were gawking at his toned back. His broad shoulders and the evident muscles in his arms while he stretched, your eyes were speedy to look away when he tried to take a glance at you.

“I don’t think the paintings here and I mind.” Sitting down again, he tapped the vacant space beside him. “Feel free to watch me draw if you want to.”

Settling by his side, he recommenced where he left off. Now with a closer view of his piece, it did look like a building as you thought. He was sketching the remaining outline of the 3rd floor of this hypothetical place, continuously checking his ruler to monitor if the lines were consistent. Able to pick up on the words of the sign beside the building, you wowed with one hand on your lips.

“You’re redrawing Seoul National University Museum of Art?”

“One of my plate assignments was to visualize a renovation of a certain place, so I chose the museum.”

“Why so?”

“Well,” Jeno shook his pen so the ink could come out. “This entire place comes to life with the royal plate, so I think we should expand the space and bring in more art pieces to life if we add another extra floor. A rooftop area for visitors and events would be fun. And definitely, we should modernize the exterior and interior a bit because it looks outdated personally. That’s also what my friends think too.”

Noticing the minor details of his plate whilst removing any unnecessary pens so it wouldn’t smudge, “Huh, I quite agree with you.”

For the first time since his night shift, you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), came into an agreement with him. He became so accustomed to clashing opinions that now, you had no contrasting points to make at all. A good change perhaps was what he’s witnessing.

“Woah, who are you agreeing with me and where’s (Y/N)?” He creased his brows whilst locking eye contact with you. This time, you didn’t wince away and just nudged him on his shoulder to get back to work.

“Hush, Jeno. Isn’t that due later? Get to work, I’ll roam around here for the meantime.”

After decades in this museum, you’re enlightened with the foreign paintings in which some you’ve heard of in your younger years and some that were created beyond your time. The Birth of Venus, Liberty Leading the People, Girl with a Pearl Earring, there’s an advantage of learning about their stories that humans couldn’t interpret. Logical that this section must be off-limits because these pieces were extra special, yet there’s so much more than what meets the eye.

There’s peace in silence while you wandered around, though it doesn’t hinder only at the art. Jeno hasn’t uttered a word since he got back to drawing, and once you asked him what’s doing now, still no answer back. Odd, he’s constantly awa-

Oh, my. You must’ve jinxed it.

Your eyes laid on Jeno leaning forward on his desk with his arms serving as his pillow, resting his head sideways. Soft snores and minimal movement in his upper body to shake the growing cold temperature of the room, he was sleeping like a log.

Putting into perspective, he hasn’t acquired enough rest specifically this past 2 weeks. The endless number of plates due making him work extra during his shift rather than sleeping in the slightest, exhaustion must be an understatement. Coffee no longer pushed him to his maximum for this week even.

But this was the path he chose, and it’ll have its challenges. Still, if you could relieve the stress in any way, you would. This would be one of the ways to repay for all the rudeness you’ve passed on him. Scurrying to his side, placing the plate on the side with his other things. You returned the caps of his open pens so they don’t spill. They must be expensive, recalling how Jeno shared the cons of being an architecture major to Princess Diana. One was the pens needed for sketching, and any tiny damages to them meant buying them again.

With his watch on clear display, he only had 2 hours left until his shift was done. Then, 4 hours until his plate assignment was done, and his current plate was far from done.

The blunt impulse to wake him up slithered your mind, though his calm state deflected your duty. As if you were on board a ship again for your explorations, you paid attention to the view with a relaxed mindset.

Lee Jeno specifically was the view.

His coffee-stained lips were parted and his sharp nose breathing in and out at a relaxing pace, he must be dreaming a happy moment the way half his lips curved into a smile. If he’s resting well, then you too would be calm.

Because of your past disinterest in him, only at this moment did you observe how sharp his jawline was and the cuts on his arms he sought refuge in. No matter how many times you tried to deny Hera’s compliments of him on the side, you couldn’t.

Lee Jeno embodied attractive features; both physical and emotional.

Back to his plate, it’ll put him at a disadvantage if he submitted the way it looked before he passed out. But you remembered all those extra details he mentioned and wanted to add to this project. Being an explorer, you documented all your ventures through words or drawings. You’re fast to adjust to anything new too.

For all the good he’s done for everyone, he only deserved some help in return.

Your version of help was sketching the remaining details of this plate, using other pens for more emphasis. It’s a risk also, but no way could you turn a blind eye on Jeno this time.

Around 5:30 am, Jeno’s eyes blinked open due to a brightening light from the outside. Stretching his limbs, he finds a velvet cloak wrapped around him like a blanket. But before he could question it, he pulled his arm in to see the time on his watch.

“Fuck!” He cursed, realizing that his so-called 10-minute snooze break aborted.

“Oh my, you’re awake!” From his frazzled state, there you were. So put together yet active, some strands of your hair falling down your face even with your hair up in a ponytail. “How was your sleep?”

This whole time he could’ve been woken up, yet you chose not to. You’re aware of his deadline, yet you let him rest entirely. He could’ve burst out in stress, yet he didn’t. You and he may have started on the wrong foot, yet it’s impossible of you to do such an evil thing. He’ll just have to tolerate the outcome later today.

“Refreshing. I really needed it.” Packing his things in his bag and closing the table, you trailed along as he exited with you. Locking up, he has 30 minutes left to accomplish the cleaning. A long good morning indeed.

But his worry of that vanished when you admitted that you had it all covered.

“Everyone helped out in cleaning, plus there are no damages made either.” From your hand, you returned one of his keys that was on his guard blazer. “I double-checked the Oriental Room and locked the doors again.”

“Why are you suddenly so nice to me, (Y/N)?” He questioned with confusion, wearing his blazer again and patting away any creases. He placed your cloak over you again like a true gentleman.

Without a word, you simply invited him to walk you back to your exhibit as parts of the sun began to rise. As you returned to your section, your fellow figures readying themselves to pose again,

“It’s my way to apologize for my very rude first impression and the succeeding moments after. I was too cooped up in my past that I was too afraid to let humans in again, night guards in particular.” You admitted, removing your cloak and placing behind your chair like always. “I’m so sorry, Jeno. Everyone was right about you and your kind heart.”

“About time.” Cleopatra’s sultry voice cut in, laying on her day bed.

Before you had the chance to flip off, Jeno mediated swiftly. With a gentle smile, “No worries about it. I’m just happy you’re okay, after all you’ve been through.”

“Can we start over then?”

“Absolutely.” With his free hand, he brought it out. No matter what kind of introductions, shaking one’s hand was the best way to start a friendship. “Good evening. I’m Lee Jeno, the new museum night guard.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), explorer and author.” Sighing at his humor, you still replied by shaking his hand. “And I believe you’re mistaken, Lee Jeno. It’s a good morning.”

Seconds after, you imitated your typical pose and smile. Only now, the latter was more genuine. Finally, a fresh start to end your agony.

Once the sun fully revealed itself, every figure including yourself froze back to sleep. Something Jeno wished to catch up on if it weren’t for his damn plate. He was so screwed, already contemplating his next steps if he does fail this class. The possibility of getting delayed in all aspects, he dreaded it already.

Heading back to his dorm, where both his roommates completely passed out from soju on the couch, he sat by his work desk and turned on his night lamp for more light since the sun wasn’t strong enough yet.

With another cup of coffee, he cracked the joints of his knuckles and laid out his pens. He had 2 hours left to submit this plate, and at most he should accomplish 50% of his initial plan. However, he didn’t anticipate such a gorgeous outcome when he brought out his plate.

Picture perfect of every detail he desired, even adding a rooftop area with that he’d love to have if ever the museum does go under renovation one day. Rather than setting the plate during the day, it was at night as the skies were dark and bright specks of yellow inside the building symbolized light.

So much for wasting coffee, he’ll just give it to Jaemin when he wakes up later. Below the final product, a note written in cursive was stuck on it.

 I knew you wanted to get this specific plate done, but you mustn’t compromise your sleep for it. It’s your inhumane professor’s fault!

To make up for my faults, I wanted to help you out. I paid extra attention to the details you spoke highly about, so I only hoped that I interpreted it correctly. It’s risky, but as someone who researched so much about me, would you be surprised that I did such a thing?

PS: Get back to sleep. I’m quite sure your desk is laid out the same way in the Foreign Art Room.

Respectfully,

(Y/N)

 Turning off his lamp, Jeno jumped the covers of his bed to continue his lost sleep. Without an ounce of care that he hasn’t changed into cleaner clothes, he’s relieved that he won’t flunk his class.

Most of all, he’s relieved that you’ve melted the ice in you and allowed kindness to come in. Jeno may never understand how hard that must’ve been for you, yet he raved you for it.

“Oh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Surprise is an understatement when it comes to you.”