The Secret History of Romanceopoly University
The things they don’t tell you at orientation…
Long before the TBR piles, before the annotated paperbacks, before morally gray love interests were mainstream… there was a legend.
It began, they say, with a group of romantics, readers and writers, who were laughed out of every “serious” institution for one very dangerous belief:
That stories without a happily ever after were not romances, just love stories with a tragic ending. And to call something a romance, it must have an HEA.
They weren’t trying to be cute. They weren’t reading fluff. They were building a framework: a genre where women’s pleasure mattered, where love was worth studying, and where happily ever afters were not only expected, they were non-negotiable.
These were the Founding Maidens.
They passed tattered paperbacks under desks, annotated scenes like sacred texts, and scribbled tropes in the margins of their textbooks like incantations. They wanted to understand it all: the psychology of the slow burn, the ecosystem of tropes, the physics of a good grovel.
And so, hidden in the folds of reality, where time works differently and your Goodreads goal resets with the moon, they built it:
Romanceopoly University.
The Campus That Shouldn’t Exist
Romanceopoly University has always been there, hidden just outside the boundaries of traditional academia, accessible only to those who know that love stories with a guaranteed happily ever after deserve serious study.
But how students find the university? That’s changed over time.
In its earliest known form, the campus could only be accessed through the bustling streets of Romanceopolis, a city-style board inspired by classic Monopoly. Each location represented a different subgenre or trope, and navigating it was a test of chance, strategy, and your willingness to fall in love with the grumpy neighbor or the vampire next door.
Then, as the reading winds shifted, the university cloaked itself in a softer disguise: the Seasonal Towns. Students passed through Frostwood Village, Blossom Falls, Sunset Bay, and Amber Heights, taking courses shaped by the seasons: snowbound tropes in winter, road trips during summer, and spooky vibes in the fall.
Now, in 2026, the university has restructured again, revealing itself in its truest form:
A sprawling academic campus, complete with departments, electives, clubs, and Study Sessions. Finally, the structure matches the spirit: romance is a genre worth majoring in.
The map may change, but the challenge remains the same:
Read with intention. Choose your own path. And always demand the happily ever after.
The Conspiracies
There are whispers, obviously.
- That the Crying Room is haunted by the ghosts of early readers of The Mindf*ck Series.
- That the professors are not entirely human, one may be an owl with spicy takes and zero chill.
- That if you complete every prompt in every major, you unlock the Forbidden Archives, where abandoned Wattpad drafts and old Kindle freebies go to retire.
- That Romanceopoly U is secretly connected to every Little Free Library on Earth.
Nothing is confirmed. Everything is suspiciously on brand.
The Modern Era
Romanceopoly reemerges every January 1st, restructured, reborn, and with even more monster boyfriends than the year before.
What started as just a reading challenge now became a university.
What started as a trope tracker became a campus.
What started as a genre they dismissed became the genre we write sonnets about.
Because here, we don’t hope for happy endings. We require them.
Anything less? Is not romance. And never was.
So whether you’re here to explore your villain era, swoon over a cottagecore baking romance, or scream with fellow club members over who your BDB soulmate is…
Welcome to Romanceopoly University. You’re exactly where you belong.