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writersmacchiato · 1 year

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Charlie Dalton? Got into a real dps mood after watching the movie lol

part time lover, full time friend (anyone else but you by the moldy peaches)

. . .

charlie dalton.

you had known him for years. there wasn't a part of you; for better or worse, that he hadn't seen. and you had seen him, for him, those moments that were so fleeting because he kept his true self so hidden from others, from you.

it was only natural that you developed feelings that veered toward the more romantic sort. of course, you were content to only be part of his life as a friend. it was easier that way.

and it was only natural that charlie ruined the content delusional world you lived in when he kissed you at a party.

full of liquor, feeling like you might be sick any minute, that all vanished when charlie placed that gentle kiss to your lips. full and sure of himself.

his thumb swiping over your cheek in a tender moment that twisted your heart painfully because...

because it was one thing to dream and fantasize about what it would be like to have this moment with charlie. to love him. to have him. but now that you had a small taste, it made the longing harder to bear.

especially when it happened again. and again. and again. until you came to expect it at least once when you attended a party with him.

it was only a matter of when, not if, your heart would give out - unable to take any more of this torture.

. .

charlie was a coward.

he knew it with every sweet kiss he bestowed upon you, it would be easier if they were passionate, lust-filled. an easy excuse. but it was never like that with you.

you were safe, you were comfort, you were home.

so of course he fell in love with you. he just couldn't tell you that because it was selfish, you deserved better than him.

he couldn't help, though, the careful way he touched you after a kiss. wanting the moment to linger, waiting for his heart to steady, hoping you would say something this time.

instead he pulls away, and instead of taking the risk, acts like the friend he's been for years until he can't resist his heart's pull to you.

. .

you're waiting for the train, shivering from the wind that is blowing through the open station. charlie leans against you, arm offering warmth, and maybe something else. you don't know anymore.

the train is late, the attendant had said so, but you didn't mind much.

conversation had been flowing for a while but dropped off into silence. and you didn't mind that either.

it was exhausting talking to charlie like there wasn't a giant elephant in every moment with him, screaming 'i love you i love you i love you'.

the train whistles and you look down the tracks to watch it approach, but you sigh when it's the wrong one. more waiting. passengers get on and off.

it leaves the station and there is a sudden darkness that takes over the area. you can see a few splatters of stars in the sky.

you turn to charlie, he's been too quiet, but when you turn he kisses you softly. a barely there peck.

completely sober, not an ounce of inebriation, looking at you with a look that sets your heart racing.

"can you forgive me for being a fool?"

you kiss him somehow, it's clumsy, you're smiling too much. and you almost knock charlie off balance, but he remains firm. returning the kiss with force.

"i think i can."

full time friend made into a full time lover.

#charlie dalton x reader #dead poets society x reader #dps x reader #dps imagine #charlie dalton #dead poets society #dps #dead poets society imagine #charlie dalton imagine #cam's ask game <3 #<<<< that will be my tag for the ask game !!#i hope you enjoy this!!

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the-bisexual-and-damned · 8 months

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neil and todd are the type to go to the dining room section of an ikea, pretend like a married couple on the brink of divorce, in this big blowout and then not be able to speak to each other for days

#this was when they started dating #this did not help neil remembering his arguments with his father #and todd remembering arguments between his parents #they still see each and other and kiss each other goodnight #but neil had to go up to todd and ask ‘did something happen between us?’#and todd goes ‘no - not at all’#and they don’t mention it ever again #dead poets society #dps #neil perry #todd anderson #anderperry #todd x neil

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poetici · 2 months

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Hi can you give me some tips to improve my writing

Hi there. So I made it into a mnemonic, hope it's helpful.

IMPROVE

I - Intention

Set an intention first. It could be as simple as 'I love writing' or something like 'I am the greatest writer in the world.'

M - Make mistakes

Writing is a holistic process. You are bound to make mistakes while drafting, editing, etc. Don't be afraid to make mistakes but also learn how to correct them.

P - Practice

It goes without saying. Practice, practice, and loads of practice. Rome wasn't built in a day.

R - Reading

Just as food is fuel for the body, reading is fuel for writing. Read something everyday, be it an article or a poem or if you have the time, a book. Join a book club maybe. Or explore different genres.

O - Order/Routine

If possible, set a routine for your writing. Have a scheduled time in the day to write and make it a priority.

V - Vocabulary

Look up new words as you come across them. Experiment with words in your drafts. It will greatly polish your writing.

E - Enjoy the process

Most importantly, even if you don't follow any other tips, you should definitely enjoy your writing. It's a process of creation, so have fun with it and don't pressurise yourself!

You will find so many rules and tips online and offline both that can help you improve your writing. You will also find that different people have different writing styles and tips.

One important tip is that there are no rules!!

Yet these are a few that I could simplify for you to remember.

Happy Writing!!

#poetici #poets on tumblr #writeblr #writers and poets #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writing #dead poets society #excerpts from a book i'll never write #writing tips #writer #tips #writing advice #tips for writers #improve your writing #mnemonics #improve #poetici ask #dear friend series

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perksofbeingpoet · 5 days

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new headcanons!

☆ THE POETS AT THE CINEMA ☆

(this got really long bc i love them so much aahhhh i hope you enjoy these headcanons as much as i do-)

CHARLIE: his favourite genre is comedy, plus movies about outlaws and teen rebels, says "so me" all through the film. oh yeah he doesn't shut up ever, talks the whole time until someone tells him to please stop talking because the movie's more interesting than how he'd dress as a pirate. every time there's a kissing scene, he turns to the poet sitting next to him and wiggles his eyebrows with a smirk. a nightmare to clean up after, his popcorn ends up all over the floor and himself. BUT all this doesn't apply to emotional movies. if a movie is sad, charlie is silent the entire time, doesn't crack a joke once and comes out of it with half his popcorn left.

KNOX: cries when watching romance, tells the poets he's not crying!! just the dry air of the cinema getting to him. insists on taking pictures of them in front of the movie poster. has accidentally thrown his ticket away instead of the receipt on several occasions. if there are cardboard cut-outs of characters at the cinema, he needs to take pics with all of them. eats a strange mixture of snacks, popcorn, pretzels and ice cream. asks "whAT?" at least five times through the movie bc he can't follow the plot. really fun to watch a movie with because he'll audibly gasp at every plot twist. idk him at the cinema is really cute guys i swear.

PITTS: needs a toilet break three times throughout the movie (tall guy small bladder king). his legs get cramps from the rows being too narrow but he doesn't care, pittsie LOVES going to the cinema. will most often go with knox and meeks, they're the best film trio. knows loads of lore about all sci-fi movies they watch, and acts annoyed at people asking questions because OF COURSE ni-bo64 has to destroy Leobor. eats salty snacks and always chooses the biggest cup of soda (meeks points this out every time pittsie has to squeeze around him to go to the toilet). loudly shouts "YES" when something he approves of happens. is the best sport about charlie's smirks in kissing scenes, he just like puts his hand on charlie's thigh really slowly and mouths 'hi'.

MEEKS: really likes movies with a hidden message, is the only one charlie will watch emotional movies with. but also just a huge nerd, him and pittsie watch sci-fi stuff together and then talk about every plot point for an hour. ORANGE SODA. really big fan of good film music. can't sit still and always steals the arm rest. doesn't talk but says "WHAT??" way too loud when a plothole occurs or a thing he was hoping for doesn't happen. is the one to buy the tickets.

NEIL: loves the comfy velvet seats. always has half a breakdown about "omg maybe i should go into film instead of stage acting??" after seeing a movie he really likes. is a little movie nerd, especially for superhero movies! loves the moment of stepping out of the cinema into the fresh night air. his snack is sweet popcorn or gummy bears. gets so excited when something cool is about to happen, he's waving his arms and being like "oh- ooohhhh- oooohhhhhh" until the cool thing actually happens. makes sure everyone has their tickets (goes into airport dad mode). laughs a lot and looks around at all the poets like "did you see that??" as if they're not all watching the same movie.

TODD: too anxious to complain about sitting behind a tall person, he'll often try to sit on top of his balled-up jacket to be a bit taller and see enough of the screen. pitts notices after a while and is like "hey todd, could we swap seats? i'd love to sit next to knox". todd only realises what that was about a few hours later and is silently soo grateful for pitts not embarrassing him. likes artsy movies where not a lot happens, and LOVES reruns bc then he already knows the plot and can relax. doesn't ever talk throughout the movie but laughs SO MUCH. mouths the lines when he already knows a movie. when there's a kissing scene he'll get embarrassed. doesn't buy snacks cos they're "too loud" and then eats all the other poets' snacks. every time. likes watching the ads before the movie.

CAMERON: asks "does anyone need to go to the bathroom before the movie starts" like fifty times before they watch the movie. hates sitting next to strangers during the movie because then he's always hyper aware of his behaviour and can't really focus on the film. likes historical movies and will watch them with todd (no one can tell me todd/cameron friendship isn't real, it makes so much sense). salty popcorn kinda guy. knows the names of all the actors and actresses.

#dead poets society #dps fandom #dead poets headcanons #i woke up from my nap and needed to talk about my boys #oh also thanks greenie for your kind words about my exam and sleep #to the people who have asked about the podcast #(yes i am aware that it was only two BUT STILL)#i won't be able to do anything until after i've finished my exams #but i have a really fun concept for that podcast i think!#so it will happen! just after my finals #didn't already wanna make a post about it bc i don't wanna get people's hopes up #dps #dps headcanons

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thiamblogger · 10 days

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wondering if she asked josh and ethan cause todd and knox were her favs?

#she could've asked the others but she didn't?#maybe cause they still act?#but as far as i'm aware bobby still does..#and my girl isn't about realism up in here.#dead poets society #neil perry #todd anderson #knox overstreet

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justforthepoets · 4 months

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Something that ironically stuck with me upon my first viewing of Dead Poets society was the scene of which the birds flying away after being chased. What at first glance seems like an insignificant scene meant solely to enhance the movie's visual effects ended up having deeper meaning than I had anticipated.

Birds are often associated with freedom and possibly unity due to their flocking behaviour. The lack of personality that the boys experience is symbolised by these birds. The birds are nearly always depicted in groups. With few differences between each individual bird, they move as a single unit. This is a representation of the boys' mindless compliance that their parents, the school, and, to some extent, even themselves, demand of them. In one moment in the movie, numerous flocks of birds are shown flying away. As the boys descend the crowded stairs on their first day, the boys' bickering is layered on top of the birds' bickering. The boys and the birds travel in unison with the flock, not asking any questions about their destination or reason. The boys are directly compared to birds in this scene. Despite the birds ability to fly out and be free in any direction, they are particularly compared to a flock of birds who stick together and mimic the flight patterns of those in authority. The boys can frequently be seen scattering the birds by running into them, forcing the birds to make their own judgements (as we can see with Knox riding towards them forcing the birds to move more haphazardly and by their own decisions) as they progress and adopt some of Mr. Keating's principles. In the end, this symbolises the boys' development and their foray into independent thought, showing them that they are capable of thinking for themselves and defying the herd in addition to holding on to conventional beliefs and flying with the flock.

To me, it's just beautiful how much effort was put into this film to bring it to life. How much meaning every frame holds.

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askthedeadpoetssociety · 21 days

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MY FIRST ANIMATIC!!! Featuring AnderPerry 😲😲😲

:D Also Featuring the time Neil heard Todd’s poem!

#anderperry #dead poets fandom #dead poets society #animatic #Ask The Dead Poets Society #todd anderson fan art #Neil Perry Fan art #dead poets society fan art #Dead Poets Society Animatic #DPS #todd and neil #neil and todd #the sillies #first animatic

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deepfriedpaddymayne · 11 months

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girls when they remember that wilfred owen was killed in action A WEEK before the armistice was signed

#look. it's a dead gay world war poet it goes with the theme of this blog.#wilfred owen #oscar rambles #i was rereading wild with all regrets which is the alternate version of a terre #he wrote it a little less than a year before he died and dedicated it to sassoon.#and i can't stop obsessing over the fact that the final lines #the ones about the soldier dying and his friend grieving him #almost feel like a premonition. he is going to die and his friend is going to grieve him. i feel insane #been on the verge of tears about this all day #also person who sent me an ask two days ago if you see this i have NOT forgotten about it #i just unfortunately have a long rant so i'm waiting for the time to type it all out rip #oh just cause someone mentioned in the tags this is ok to reblog #we are all sad about the gay ww1 poet sometimes it's okat #also omg i had completely forgotten that wo was also in a magnus statement

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good--merits-accumulated · 18 days

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do you take requests🧍‍♀️

LMAO I don't know if I would write full versions of these, but I can do some short snippets of each!

I. writer! Todd and vampire! Neil neighbours

Nicolas bared his teeth – and they were not just flashing white as Andrea had seen, but long and pointed, and curved like the canines of wolves. And they were no longer white, but slick and dark with blood. Of course. What a fool he had been. Nicolas moved closer and put one hand on Andrea’s throat, one cold relentless hand, so that they could both feel his pulse jumping between them. Behind him, pinned to the metal wall, Clara’s stake lay clenched in his hand.

“No, no, no,” said Neil cheerily across the space between their balconies, “you’ve forgotten that Andrea wears that necklace.”

If it had been six months ago, Todd would have – and had – turned red, snatched his laptop off the flimsy table, and scuttled away into the sanctity of his own apartment, imposing a state of self-exile from the balcony for several more weeks. Fortunately it was not. He twisted around in the chair, shot a half-despairing glance at Neil’s grinning face, and asked, “Have you never heard of privacy once in your entire life?”

“I have many times heard of l’intimité,” said Neil, grinning wider, “and of einkalíf, and even yǐnsī. Privacy, however. That’s a new one. Pri-var-see. Is that how you say it?”

He was incorrigible. Todd had discovered quite early on in their friendship that Neil had had some huge measure of life experiences which allowed him to come up with a rebuttal to every situation, and even earlier on that allowing him to run his mouth in French was a dangerous thing to do to himself. He was best humoured. “You’re in a boasting mood,” he said, pulling the laptop towards him. “I’ll bite. What’s wrong with his necklace?”

“You’re the one writing with your screen brightness all the way up on an open balcony,” said Neil mildly, but acquiesced when Todd shot him a threatening look. “Sorry. Lips sewn. Anyway – whatever gory hand-to-hand combat scene you’re working on there can’t go if he’s got the necklace on.”

“Well, why not?”

“It’s a fish,” said Neil, with some measure of surprise.

Todd fixed him with a look. “Neil, Andrea is a marine biologist.”

“A marine biologist wearing an ancient symbol of Christ around his neck,” said Neil. “Nicolas – he’s the vampire, yes? – he wouldn’t be very partial to that, I imagine.”

“A fish?” said Todd, surprised. “Well, it's not exactly a cross.”

“Hurts just as bad,” said Neil, making a face. “I mean, I would reckon. You know the ichthys actually predates the cross by two centuries? Bit more power to it, wouldn’t there be?”

He squinted and turned around fully. In the faint light spilling from his flat – the light from his flat was always faint – Neil looked loose-limbed and relaxed, draped over his balcony with his customary easy smile on his face, and his perpetual air of someone who knew more than he was letting on. Infuriatingly, the air was alluring at the best of times. But there was no hint of a lie or a joke on his face. “How on earth do you know that?”

“I’ve got time,” said Neil, “I read.” Then, with a shrug affecting casualness, “Could come over to yours and explain it more to you, if you want.”

“Well,” said Todd, and then, “well.” It had been six months they had known each other. He supposed that was enough time. But it had not happened before. For a moment a terrible feeling of anxiety overwhelmed him – something prickled over the back of his head like a hood, and a cloud crossed the moon, so that for half a second all was plunged into darkness. He shuddered. But then the clouds cleared and a ray of light struck Neil’s face, and illuminated it for him; he looked a little bit sheepish and a little bit pale, with nervousness perhaps. His hands twisted, one after the other, on the railing of the balcony. He was looking determinedly down. “I suppose it’d be helpful,” he said, and Neil looked up with a smile, suddenly blinding.

“Really?” he said.

“Well, don’t make me recant the offer.”

“Of course. Invite me in?”

He jerked a thumb in the direction of the door, standing up. “No,” said Neil, in a voice that was soft but carried nevertheless, and filled with laughter. “I’d like to hear you say it.” He was full of odd little idiosyncrasies like that, and despite himself, they were all endearing.

“You – are – ridiculous,” he said, punctuating each word with a movement; standing up, shutting the laptop, tucking the chair in behind him. “Are you recording that, or something? Come on over to the door. Of course you can come in.” He left Neil’s smile and the laptop behind him and slipped back into his flat, to stack the cushions back onto the sofa and check his hair in the mirror.

It did not occur to him until much later the point that should have been obvious from the start – that their balconies were much too far apart to see well, and that his screen brightness, despite Neil’s insistence, had not been turned up all that much at all. But by that point, he could no longer quite bring himself to care.

II. vampires! Todd and Neil forced to plan museum heists

Languages tended to blend into one another these days; they evolved so much over these many hundreds of years that dialects, once sisters, became distant cousins, and then ceased being on speaking terms altogether. It was awfully difficult to keep up, at least without looking like a fool or a grandfather. Despite that, some languages had, throughout the years, impressed themselves onto certain parts of Todd’s moods. Corsican when he was feeling playful, Old Norse when he had just woken up or was particularly vulnerable – English for almost everything else, except in those rare cases where he felt something unimaginably distressing had happened, or that some unforeseen calamity was tearing at the bounds of his reality, demanding to be given voice and a few more vowels. In those cases it was invariably French.

“Merde,” he said, staring in dismay at the display case, “oh, merde.”

“Fill de puta,” agreed Neil gloomily.

Staring back at him was five sheets of stained paper, covered densely from margin to margin in a scribbling hand he knew very well, seeing as it was attached to his wrist. They had been arranged with the utmost care on a transparent support, and although he had not read the contents of the label next to it, he could, very clearly, see its proud, bolded title: The Met Museum presents – “His sweet mouth”: Love Letters Through Time.

“Fill de puta,” Neil repeated. This time with a touch more horror.

“That must have been one of your letters,” said Todd faintly.

“The first time I used the phrase,” he rejoined, “le Roi Soleil was already dead.” He gestured at the line before them that read 15th century, exact date unknown. “That was you. Remember?”

He remembered, unfortunately, in excruciating detail. That had been a particularly thrilling night – a young man, one of Borso’s hanger-ons – a moonlit chase through the Castello Estense – him and Neil had been younger then, and had spilled more blood than was strictly necessary in the process. But it had been wonderfully romantic, and shortly afterwards, when Neil had gone off to Venice to do something with alum and Todd had remained in Ferrara, he had sat at his desk and remembered the moment; their hands and mouths meeting in that dim corridor of the Castello, the soft chimes of their laughter, the taste of the courtier’s sweet blood lingering still on his tongue. Enamoured, and in a mood much more befitting to a youth, he had written the letter and sent it off with a kiss.

It had been well received at the time; Neil had come back from Ferrara early and they had gone off for a third honeymoon in Milan, and stayed until the whole business with Galeazzo Maria had forced a quick escape. When asked where the letter had gone Neil had only assured him that he had kept it, with the kind of dashing prince’s bow he had favoured at the time. Looking at him now, both of them were remembering it.

He looked a little closer, just making out a particular line of Italian which had not been fit for public company in 1469 and was certainly not more so now, under hundreds of thousands of visitors’ eyes. “You said – ”

“I may,” said Neil, a little shamefacedly, “have lost it.” He rubbed at the back of his neck and added ruefully, “1844.”

He put a hand over his eyes. “The Oregon Trail?”

“It was quite windy.”

He pointed accusingly at the letter, and Neil winced. “Not windy enough to destroy the damn thing.”

“Well, it could be worse.”

“Worse!” One or two people looked over; he pulled Neil with him into the corner of the room, away from the damning glass display cases. “Neil, not only has our property been stolen – ”

“Lost.”

“Yes, because you lost it. Not only that, but now thousands of people are looking at it under this – damn – ” Lost for words, he pointed at the sign above them as they had walked into this particular exhibition room, reading, quite damningly, Eroticism and Sensuality, 1300-1550. He took one deep breath and compressed all the forcefulness and anger into a single, low, “Merde!”

“It was quite a good letter,” Neil offered. “I was flattered. Particularly the passage about my – ”

“There’s nothing for it,” Todd decided, firmly cutting him off. “Does Charlie still have all of his equipment from the ‘60s?”

“Good God,” said Neil smilingly. The good thing about having known each other for over a thousand years was that, at this point, they could have been the same person; he had not surprised Neil in quite some time with his actions. “You don’t mean to break into the Met?”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

Neil blinked at him slowly, and pulled him a little closer, so that they were pressed close enough together to be mistaken for young lovers. A middle-aged woman pushing a stroller shot them a smile as she walked by, and Todd smiled back, close-lipped. “I certainly haven’t been arrested in quite some time,” Neil mused.

“And you can’t be hung for it any more,” Todd pointed out, putting his head on his shoulder. “The stakes are exceedingly low. Neil, I really do want that letter back.”

When he looked up at him again he was smiling; the wide flashing smile which exposed all his teeth and the fangs jutting sharp onto his bottom lip. The light in his eyes had long since died but in the reflected glow of the spotlights they looked almost alive again, and dancing with mischief. “Well, if you wish it,” he said. “Then I can’t say no.”

Notes:

I: languages Neil uses in succession: French, then Icelandic, then Chinese. Take all the stuff about the icthys with large grains of salt - I did like 3 seconds of research for this and it was all on Wikipedia! Also I do think Andrea wears specifically the icthys, and not just any old fish.

II: Todd is of course using French, but Neil uses Catalan. Maybe I've been reading too much Aubrey-Maturin. The Borso mentioned is Borso d'Este - highly recommend reading more about him if you like Quattrocento things. Similarly Galeazzo Maria is of course the real Sforza who was assassinated in 1476!

#sorry about the delay i was sleeping + debating the merits of consuming jesus' stigmata with some friends. you know how it is #anderperry #dead poets society #anderperry fic #tristan writes #thanks for (sort of) requesting! it was nice to stretch these particular writing muscles #tristan stop bringing everything back to Quattrocento courtly dynamics challenge. failed #ask

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octaviasdread · 2 days

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Mrs Perry, the 50s Housewife & Neil

This entire post is inspired by a discord discussion so I can't take all the credit, but Mrs Perry gives off alllll the signals of a 50s housewife reliant on emotional suppression and prescription pills to cope with the demands of post-war society.

'They used barbiturates to aid in sleep, minor tranquilizers to ease anxiety, and amphetamines to help lose weight and boost energy. [...] Women’s pill consumption signals their difficulties, at times, before feminism of the era explicitly touched upon them' - Erin Brown, You Go to My Head: Women's Prescription Pill Use in Postwar America

Her smoking while she waits for Neil to return with Mr Perry from the play suggests a habit to cope with stress. It’s also notable that she hurries to put it out. Is this a further sign she’s smoking to relieve anticipation, or is it something she doesn’t want Neil to see?

And Mr Perry? His treatment of her can partly be explained by patriarchal family structure. What Mr Perry wants, Mr Perry gets. He is head of the family, and takes the lead in family communications with Neil, so much that beneath Mr Perry's repeated use of 'we,' it's difficult to discern how Neil's mother feels.

In the scenes set in the Perry house, we mainly see the family in Mr Perry's study. This direct parallel to Nolan's office INSIDE Neil's home emphasises the rule of authority over his life, and the extent of how trapped he is.

The parallel is important because Nolan's office is shown as a place of punishment for the students, and a reinforcement of their lack of agency.

More specifically, the deleted scenes show school clubs being dictated to the boys as they stand in front of Nolan’s desk. This confirms that school annual - and the editorial position that Neil earned - is taken from him on Mr Perry's whim, just as his whole life is ripped away the next time he stands beside a desk in Mr Perry’s office.

The hurt and betrayal Neil feels in these early scenes is hidden from Nolan, and he submits to the authority of his father. But Neil can no longer hide his hurt by the end. He has gained and then lost too much to accept the stricter controls Mr Perry is imposing.

So what does Mrs Perry do when faced with her son's obvious distress? Almost nothing.

Her worry for her son is real, but she shows no true support that Neil can rely on. He looks to her for help and comfort twice. The first time, she looks down, then back at Neil, and says nothing. The second time is after she begins to speak, but her one attempt fails, and she falls back into passivity.

She stands aside. It's as if Mrs Perry isn't really there, stuck behind an invisible boundary observing the damage as the scene unfolds.

It's only when Mr Perry leaves that she provides some fleeting comfort - but this comfort doesn't feel present to Neil. She doesn't articulate her support, doesn't touch him, or make signs that Neil can grasp without doubting her belief in him.

Instead of prioritising her son, she follows Mr Perry without complaint, leaving Neil to grieve alone for the loss of everything he holds dear.

This tiny scene says so much about the dysfunctional family dynamic Neil has been raised in. It's impossible to say when it started, or when his mother stopped advocating for Neil's emotional wellbeing, but there's definitely a bond - however strained - between mother and son that isn't shared with Mr Perry.

As @desire-mona has said, Mr Perry uses his wife and possibly her health to guilt and manipulate Neil into following his demands. There's definitely an argument to made for Mrs Perry having fragile health. If this is physical, or a 'nervous' ailment historically diagnosed in housewives, or a combination of the two isn't clear. Whatever it is, she must not be upset.

This puts a lot of pressure on a child, and Neil (understandably) complies under the threat. As the above scene implies, Neil is blamed, and likely blames himself, if Mrs Perry's symptoms get worse around the time he disobeys, or just fails to please his parents.

The Perrys different reactions to stress are clearest at the discovery of Neil's death. The shock causes Mr Perry to bypass anger (although anger returns in his search for someone - i.e. Keating - to blame) and his care for Neil surfaces. This is the first time his care is shown through sympathetic emotion rather than demands for Neil to succeed.

Mrs Perry hurtles into denial. Her body is reacting to distress, but she can't comprehend reality. 'He's alright,' she repeats, retreating into a fragile imagined safety to cope.

@pencileraser1 has also linked the parallels between Mrs Perry and Neil smoking to the possibility of an inherited mental illness.

Being raised in an emotionally abusive household, and internalising the shame of not conforming to Mr Perry's ideal would be enough to contribute to depression in Neil. But I think both mother and son could share dissatisfaction and a desire for escapism.

When faced with the constraints of the larger system they live under, their mental illness plays out in different ways.

Neil finds a healthier outlet behind the backs of authority through the club, acting, and finding an adult mentor to support him, while Mrs Perry has little to no opportunities to escape the confines of the home or the scrutiny of her community.

Once these opportunities (and coping mechanisms) are taken from him, Neil doesn't turn to smoking, escapist poetry, or other forms of temporary numbing. He's seen his parents suburban lives, seen the life they want for him, and perhaps he can't and won't live in quiet compliance the way Mrs Perry does.

I wonder how Mrs Perry copes afterwards? Does she see a decent therapist? Separate (but not divorce) from Mr Perry? Does she take pills and numb herself further? I don't think I want to know.

#you know its exam season when I start posting essays no one asked for #but i was listening to fortnight and thinking 50s housewife thoughts and ended up here #mr perry only breaks his favourite toys indeed #CO Posts #dead poets society #dps #neil perry #dead poets fandom #mrs perry #dps fandom #mr perry

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