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#dps fanfiction
augiewrites · 5 months
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"secret admirer" - dead poets society
summary: y/n receives yet another profession of love under their door—too bad the hallway is always empty when they open the door
pairing: anonymous!dead poet x gender neutral reader
word count: 591
i am back two years and one english degree later to write a fic that no one asked for! now that's what i call self care!
part two
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Winter proved the student body of Welton wrong when they thought the school couldn't get any more dull. The cold can be cruel like that.
Just like the winter stripped the North of all life, Welton stripped it's students of all identity. In a place where boot licking is the norm and conformity is the goal—Y/N's only retreat was the 200 square foot box they called home for ten months of the year. The only place anyone in Welton was allowed to be themself.
That was exactly where Y/N and their roommate—Quinn—found themselves on a particularly cold Sunday morning.
Y/N sighed and looked from their homework over to Quinn, who had yet to get out of bed, "Do you know that guy that's like...scary good at latin? What's his name? Minks?"
"Hmm," Quinn hummed, wrapping the blanket closer to their body, "the ginger kid? Always hanging out with that tall dude?"
"Yeah, him," a pause and yet another sigh from Y/N, "I think I need a tutor if I want to keep an A this semester. I—"
Suddenly an envelope skidded under the door and across the floor. Rapid footsteps followed soon after and Y/N could hear a door slamming further down the wing.
Quinn rolled their eyes, "God. Not another one."
Y/N just shot them a look and picked up the envelope—one of many addressed to them and left unsigned.
"You wouldn't be rolling your eyes if you were the one with a secret admirer."
"You wouldn't be rolling your eyes if you were the one with a secret admirer mehmheh blah," Quinn mocked in a high tone, "Yeah. If they were for me, they'd be romantic. For you? Prepare to be murdered."
"Shut up."
Y/N opened the letter and dove in. Their heart was beating much faster than they would like to admit.
Lovely Y/N,
She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
I couldn't help but think of you when Keating had us reciting Lord Byron's work last week. The sun was so bright for a dreary winter day, and the rays illuminating from the window painted an image of heaven around your silhouette. You looked so lovely, I could barely register Byron's words.
I would happily go toward the light if I knew you were waiting for me within it.
Sincerely,
Yours.
Y/N could feel Quinn's eyes on them as their cheeks burst into a rosy flame.
"He's in my English class."
Quinn gasped, "Finally! We have a lead!"
"Quinn, I really don't want to play detective on this...what if I think it's the wrong person and make a fool of myself? I think I would have to drop out. Die, even."
But Quinn kept rambling on, completely ignoring their roommate's apprehension, "it's too bad I'm not smart enough for AP English—I would for sure be able to catch that creep staring you down. You're so oblivious. He could be telling you all these things to your face and you would doubt that he's into you."
"I'm not that oblivious, Quinn."
"Oh, please," Quinn exclaimed, "you're so romantically challenged! This guy has been right under your nose and you don't have a single clue!"
Y/N scoffed and returned to their homework.
"Whatever you say, Quinn. We're just going to have to wait and see."
~~~
a/n: who could it possibly be?? 🤯
part two
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dearsnow · 6 months
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ORLANDO (FIRST KISS)
- charlie, your best friend, attempts to set you up with the crush he is convinced you have. (charlie dalton x gn!reader, includes some neil being a good friend, slight angst into fluff, happy au, no beta we die like real men)
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word count: 2,646
a/n - i love charlie so much oh my god 😭 hopefully there’s more to come with him! i’m planning a very long fic for him, hopefully similar in feeling to my neil fic “the last time” :) this is slightly inspired by the song “orlando” by leith ross so pls check them out!!
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It’s 1:32 AM on a Friday night (Saturday, technically, but that rarely seems to matter), and Charlie Dalton is refusing to let you sleep.
“You’ve got to tell me. I swear, cross my heart, I won’t tell a soul.” He begs.
Charlie has been your best friend for god knows how long. You met so long ago that you don’t even remember how or why; it just was. That’s exactly what your relationship is. There’s really no rhyme or reason, considering you would detest anyone else with his personality, but you’re friends anyways, and you love him with all your heart. Opposites attract, you suppose. You don’t know why. Most days, including today, he is extremely and desperately annoying.
You slump down onto his bed, covering your eyes with your hands. He’s gotten it into his mind that you have a crush, and he won’t rest until he finds out who it is. Lucky you.
“Charlie, it’s no one.” You groan, peeking past your fingers to stare at him with a cross expression. “Even if I did like someone, I wouldn’t tell you.”
The problem is, you do like someone, and he’s sitting right in front of you with messy hair and pajama pants.
Your feelings for him, just like your meeting, are so far buried in the past that you couldn’t dig them up with an excavator. One day, you suppose, you just started to fall in love with him. He’s annoying and rich and a total smart-ass, but you love him. In some soft, quiet ways, he is the kindest boy you’ve ever met.
He notices when you get cut off mid-conversation or when you’re just a little too uncomfortable to talk to the person in front of you. He knows you like the back of his hand and puts his knowledge to use without ever having to ask, like how he always gets you exactly what you want on your birthday. He’s smart and energized and a breath of fresh air, no matter how stale the room is. And, of course, though you would rarely tell him, he is dashingly handsome.
He sits up straighter and begins listing every boy you’ve ever come in contact with. “Meeks? You always did like his type. Ooh, or Pitts? He’s a pitiful lady-killer. Todd is another good choice. Knox has got his thing with Chris, so you probably wouldn’t like him unless you’re into getting your heart broken.” He stops his ranting to take a breath, then continues on. “You cannot like Cameron because if you do, I won’t ever talk to you again. It isn’t Cameron, right?”
You scoff. “I don’t have a crush. Stop trying to guess a person that doesn’t exist.”
“Neil?” He questions. You hesitate just a bit before waving away his suggestion. Neil is a very good friend of both yours and his, and truthfully, he would definitely be the best boyfriend out of all of them. Despite that, you do not love him like you love Charlie. Not even close.
He catches on to your hesitation with scary accuracy. The tilt of your head, the twitch of your hand, the way the corners of your mouth almost curved up into a smile. Charlie feels his heart drop. “Oh my god, it’s Neil. Of course it’s Neil, it’s always Neil! You like Neil.” Neil is, unbeknownst to him, a complete catch. It makes sense that you would like him. After all, he’s kind, outgoing, and a whole lot nicer than Charlie is. That doesn’t make it hurt any less.
Like you, Charlie doesn’t exactly know when you came into his life. Maybe a stuffy dinner party or a prep event- all that matters to him is that you’re here now, and he loves you. He does, however, know when he started loving you.
It was seventh grade at a school dance, and you had decided to go with a boy he barely knew. When the boy asked you out with a pocketed rose and a shy smile, Charlie felt his blood boiling. How dare he, he thought, take you away from him? You’re his best friend. He would have bought you an entire flower shop had you said the word.
Seeing you waltz with him in your pretty outfit, as awkward and stiff as you both were, was too much for him to bear. Charlie left early, prompting you to follow him. The scene that resulted was one you both tried heavily to erase.
“Charlie, what’s wrong?” You panted, hurrying after him as fast as your pinchy shoes would allow. “Charlie. Charlie! Talk to me.”
“It’s nothing. Just go away.” He sniffled. You turned the corner to see him sitting on a curb, tears tracking down his face. If you knew one thing about Charlie Dalton, it was that he hated crying. You sat down next to him, but he turned to face the trees to his left.
“What happened?” You asked gently. How he despised your gentle care.
“I hate you. Go away.” His voice broke in the middle of his sentence. “I never want to see you again.”
Something in you snapped in that moment, something angry and sad all at once. He was hurting, and you loathed it, but Charlie always got what he wanted in the end.
You stood up and left, muttering a “sorry” over your shoulder.
He tried to avoid you for a while after that, but as with all fated things, he couldn’t stay away for long. He went back to you without a hint of apology, and you took him. Begrudgingly, you just couldn’t be without your best friend for very long.
He knew he loved you then, and that fact hasn’t changed in the present.
“I don’t like Neil.” You insist. “Trust me.”
Charlie stands to pace around his room, talking with his hands as per usual. “Y’know, you always seem smiley around him. I should’ve seen it coming, really. The way you talk to him can’t be platonic.” You sigh from the bed, and Charlie flops down beside you. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin. It’s pleasant, like a ray of sun on a cold day. You instinctively move closer to him as he opens his mouth. “I could probably get you a date with him. Not that you couldn’t do it yourself, but,” he pauses, a hint of hurt humor in his eyes, “I could be your wingman.”
He doesn’t want to be. He really doesn’t want to be, but what can he do? He would rather see you happy with Neil than miserable with no one. Despite how much he hates it, he’s gotten over most of his prepubescent jealousy. He knows deep down in the very achingly sad part of him that you don’t love him. At least, not the way he loves you.
You’re facing him, your nose inches away from his chest as your heart pounds in yours. He really wants you to get with Neil. Well, if that’s how he feels, you don’t feel the need to reject the offer. Maybe this is just the thing you need. What’s the point in pining after him when he’s actively trying to set you up with his second best friend?
“Yeah. That… I would like that.” Charlie’s heart crumbles in his chest.
“Then I’ll get right on it.” He grins. Behind the smile, sadness is swimming in his eyes, but you don’t bother to look at them.
It’s winter break, one of Charlie’s favorite times of the year, but he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this sad before.
By the time the next weekend rolled around, you had almost forgotten about Charlie’s proposed setup. But, on this Saturday when you’re cozy in your room, Neil comes knocking at your door.
You open the door, slightly surprised. He’s holding a bouquet of flowers with a small grin on his face. They’re your favorite flowers.
“Hi.” He says. His voice is breathless.
You raise your eyebrows, but for some reason, you can’t help but smile. Neil is standing in your doorway, and you feel like you know what he’s going to ask. “Hey.”
“Do you want to go on a date with me?” He implores, holding the bouquet out for you to take. “It doesn’t have to be right now, but… I’m ready if you are.” He’s dressed in a crisp suit, and if you’re being honest, you’d hate to make him go home without putting it to use.
You laugh lightly, the feeling bubbling out of your stomach. “Yeah, I’d love that. Just let me get ready and I’ll be out in ten minutes.”
Two days prior to Saturday, Charlie proposed a dead poets town trip. They were milling around, bouncing from shop to shop before Charlie clasped Neil on the shoulder.
“What do you think about Y/N?”
Neil turned, confused. “What do you mean?”
There was a smirk on Charlie’s face, but he hesitated like he didn’t actually want to say the words he was about to say. “I mean, I think you two would be a pretty cute couple.”
Neil let out a huff of air, almost in disbelief. “You’ve been in love with them since seventh grade, Nuwanda. Don’t try to act like you aren’t.”
Charlie gasped exaggeratedly and put a hand over his heart. “How dare you suggest that! I just want the best for my dearest friends.” The others laughed. Every single one of them knew that Charlie harbored deep feelings for you- and every single one of them knew he would never admit it. “Look, just one date. Ask them out on Saturday. They really like you, and I know they’re free, so they can’t pull any excuses.”
“I just don’t know.” Neil admitted. “They’re great and all, but I’d feel bad if I stole away your crush of four years.”
“You won’t be stealing anything, my boy. Just think about it.” Charlie knew he was lying, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he also knew that somehow, he was making the right decision.
Like all of your romantic endeavors, your date with Neil is slightly awkward. He’s your friend, sure, but you’ve never really thought about him like this before. You never even considered dating him. It’s always been Charlie. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to broaden your horizons.
After the initial tension, you would like to believe it went well. Neil walks you out of the restaurant, holding your arm. He’s smiling, and you feel your own expression falter. You like him, you really do, but some part of you knows that he will never be Charlie.
He leans closer to you, almost close enough to touch. Your heart pounds in your chest as he whispers something into your ear. “Don’t look, but Charlie’s watching. Pretend I’m kissing you.”
You’re taken aback as your eyes try to search for his brown hair, but after a second, you comply. You shut your eyes and thread your fingers through Neil’s. To anyone else, especially anyone inside of the restaurant, it looks like you’re smashing tongues with him.
Neil walks you home as the day fades into night, and as much as you ask, your questions are left unanswered with a sly wink.
“I can’t believe you would do that.” Charlie rages. “It was meant to be a date, not a date and a tongue fuck! That was their first kiss, Neil, and you’ve stripped them of it!” He doesn’t know why he’s so outrageously enraged. It was a quick kiss from the boy you’ve been crushing on. He should be overjoyed for you.
“It wasn’t like that, Charlie. Just ask them.” Neil is surprisingly calm, considering his friend is screaming at him. “Ask them. Go on.” He pushes Charlie’s shoulder. “I walked them home.”
Charlie grumbles, his gut twisted into shaking, angry knots. “I will. If they tell me you did anything weird, though, you’re dead.” Neil shakes his head.
“I think you’d kill me even if I didn’t kiss them.”
For the second time, you hear a knock at your door. This one is loud and frenzied, but through the haze, you can tell who it is. Who else would knock so harshly at 11:23 at night? It’s a good four hours after your date, so it definitely can’t be Neil.
You open the door, clad in pajamas and a frown. “Seriously, Charlie? You’re gonna wake the whole neighborhood.”
“Did he kiss you?” Ah, straight to the point. He’s never one to beat around the bush.
“What’s it to you?” You defend. “You didn’t care about that possibility when you wanted me to date him.” You cross your arms. Why the hell is he so upset? You don’t understand anything about this. His motives, his feelings, right now, they’re more confusing than he’s ever been. Well, save for one night. Oddly, this reminds you of that dance a few years back. You don’t want that to happen again, so whatever’s going on has to stop.
He opens his mouth and then closes it like he’s actually considering what he wants to say for the first time in his life. “I just…” A defeated expression tugs his face down. Your heart plummets. You rarely ever see him crestfallen. The last time was four years ago, and you had hoped you would never see him like that again.
He turns to walk away. He can’t do it, he just can’t. He’s walking so fast the pavement under his feet is a blur, and you chase after him.
“Charlie, what are you-“ He turns, seeing the confusion on your face.
When he looks at you, all Charlie can see is love. He loves your voice, the curve of your lips, the way you do anything and everything. In that moment, when he sees you with tired eyes, his inhibitions flee like rabbits from a wolf. Maybe, just maybe, he can.
Before you can ask, yet after you see the fire in his eyes, he grabs your arm and cuts you off.
“Can I kiss you?”
You’re taken aback for a moment, lips parted, not speaking a word. His hair is messy and the tear tracks on his cheeks glisten in the street lights. It’s like everything you’ve ever wanted has sprung to life before your eyes. “Yes, but-“
He presses his lips to yours, effectively cutting off any further communication once again. His grip on you softens as his hands reach up to cup your face. Your eyes flutter shut, and a million different things race through your mind. All you can consciously think is that you never want it to end.
When he pulls away, breathless, something new is shining in his eyes. “I hope that wasn’t bad for a second kiss.” He smiles. He’s still worried, more so than he’s ever been, but that was the most amazing thing he thinks he’s ever done.
“Second? Charlie, that was my first.”
He pauses. “So Neil didn’t kiss you?”
You laugh, and upon seeing his even more excited face, you laugh so hard you double over. He joins, and your giggles are probably too loud for how late it is. “No! God no, he told me to pretend because you were watching.” Your voice comes out humorous and strained, with so much joy behind the tone that Charlie can feel himself starting to laugh again. “Were- Were you in the restaurant for our whole date?”
“Yeah.” He chokes out. “I couldn’t just let the love of my life date some other guy without my knowledge, right?”
“Oh, totally. Maybe you should ask me out next time, then, to completely avoid this whole scenario.” He pulls you in, laughing against your shoulder.
“Sure. Yeah, I think I will. Next time, I’ll make sure of it.”
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ameriewadiasbangs · 3 months
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just found the best chat fic i’ve ever read in my life. made me laugh out loud, had super accurate and in depth characterisation, and had the ships i wanted including a pretty rare pair.
it has 8 chapters and hasn’t been updated since 2021 🫥
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gayfandomnerd225 · 1 month
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Au where Neil doesn’t die, goes to military school, loses touch with all his friends, and becomes a doctor, specifically an oncologist (cancer doctor). He starts working at a hospital and it best friends with a diagnostic doctor. Who then gets a patient with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a last name Neil could never forget, Anderson
Should I write this?
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ash5monster01 · 3 months
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Hiii. Could I request a Neil smut? Maybe it is her first time and he's all soft and sweet? Thanks!
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First Time
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Pairing: Neil Perry x FemReader
Warnings: 18+, established relationship, smut, readers first time, fluff, dirty talk, p in v, oral, nudity
Summary: it’s your first time and Neil seems like the perfect choice to take your virginity considering how gentle and caring he is.
word count: 2.2k
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You had always considered sleeping with someone before marriage. Yet that consideration wasn’t taken lightly. You had swore to yourself that if that was what you decided to do it had to be with someone who was worth it. Which never seemed likely considering Harvard was a big place with a lot of people. Yet somehow amongst all of them you had stumbled upon Neil Perry. Found him studying in library, a sadness to the air around him, but the most genuine eyes you had ever seen. It explained the reason why you had half a mind to even sit next to him in the first place. The rest was history.
You had dated almost the full four years of college and it was no doubt in your mind that he was the one for you. You were going to marry Neil Perry even if it’s the last thing you do. All of this is why you had officially decided you were ready to sleep with him. That and the fact it was getting harder and harder to pull away from him. So when he reaches your dorm room, wearing a ivy green sweater pushed up to his forearms, wire glasses hung low on his nose, and grey sweats, your excuse is you’re only just a girl. A girl with an entire meal for a boyfriend. You’re supposed to be studying but none of your books are open before you’re straddling him on the bed.
“Someone missed me today huh?” he teased with a light squeeze to your waist and you fight everything in you to not roll your hips on top of him.
“I always miss you” you tell him, hands holding yourself up on his firm chest. He had filled out since Freshman year, more meat on his bones, yet just as lean.
“Even when you’re with me?” he asks, hands reaching to remove the readers that were meant for studying he never got too.
“Sometimes, but only if we haven’t talked in a while or were busy doing other things” this sentence has him pulling you down to meet his lips which you happily accept. You can tell he’s surprised when you deepen it but it lasts only a moment until he matches the pace and dares his tongue past your lips.
“I gotta say baby, I’m loving this mood you’re in” he says trying not to sound to breathless when he pulls away and you grin, hands dancing along his chest and to his abdomen.
“What do you say we remove this pesky sweater?” you grin deviously and he raises his eyebrows as your fingers start bunching the fabric up, revealing an expanse of skin. Your mouth practically waters at the happy trail now revealed to you, hair he had also just grown in the last few years of college.
“You sure baby?” he asks but you don’t need to answer because you’re practically lifting him by the sweater to get it over his head, taking the white T-shirt underneath with it too.
“What, want me to remove mine too?” you ask and his mind actually malfunctions for a moment, unsure of how to respond because he truly had only seen you in a bra a few times. He never comes up with a response because now you’re lifting the red Harvard t-shirt above your head and revealing the white lace bra from underneath. He visibly gulps, eyes darting between your chest and face as he tries to comprehend what’s happening.
“Listen, baby. If we start this I’m not sure I’m going to be able to stop. I also have play practice in two hours and it’ll be so much harder leaving knowing I have you in bed like this” Neil tells you and you chuckle.
“Two hours is plenty of time, and you can always come back after” you tell him and his whole face reddens all the way down to his neck.
“You’re being serious, you want to do this?” he says and you nod almost instantly.
“I’ve already made up my mind, the only way I’ll stop now is if you’re not serious about me. I don’t want to do this and then have you leave me behind” you tell him and his face instantly softens towards you, hands pulling your face to his own.
“I’ve been serious about you ever since that day you sat with me in the library” and his confession is enough to make you kiss him again and Neil doesn’t miss the slight roll of your hips. You know you have his attention now based on the way he’s started to harden beneath you, no longer fighting the urge. Just as your tongue darts past his lips you grind against him again which makes him put his hands on your ass, holding you in place because one more movement and he’d be harder than a rock. That’s what you wanted anyway.
After a beat you break apart from his lips, something he protests to but stops when he realizes you’re reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. His throat has gone dry and as much as he feels panic rushing through him it is also paired with excitement. He knows not to stop you again, that you’re on a mission. So he does the only thing he can think of and just watches as the fabric loosens and slides down your shoulders. You don’t have to ask if he likes how you look considering he is now fully hard against your backside.
“It’s okay baby, you can touch me” you whisper to him like it’s your secret. He hesitates only slightly which has you guiding his hands and placing them over each breast. Your nipples harden under his palm which urges him to finally grope. The feeling of his hands and look of awe in his eyes has you grinding against him again. Now lost completely in your touch he leans up and places a nipple in his mouth. Your arms wrap around his neck as a moan bellows from you. Once he has given both breasts his attention you push him back down onto the bed, needing more skin to skin contact. His stomach jumps when you slide off him, shimmying down his body and curling your fingers into his waistband. His pants were tented and he couldn’t believe you were about to pull them off right now. Your lips meet his pelvic bone which makes him gasp.
“Shit, baby. Please” and you know exactly what he means. So you pull the sweatpants along with his boxers down, allowing him to spring free. Your brain short circuits as you look at the sheer size of him. You need to taste him immediately which is why you give no warning when you suck the head of his cock into your mouth. The precum is sweet on your tongue as Neil moans out, hips lifting to find some relief.
Seeing how well he responds you suck as much of him as you can into your mouth. He’s whining needily which urges you in to suck him for all he’s worth. Seeing how hard he has gotten for you has made you so wet you can feel it soaking through your underwear. When it all becomes too much for him he pulls you off, not wanting to finish before pleasuring you. “My turn baby, been dying to taste you for so long now”
Your eyes can barely leave his cock, now covered in your spit and hard against his stomach. It clearly needs attention but he wants to take care of you. So Neil lays you back in his spot, his own hands dipping underneath the fabric of your pants and pulling them down your legs. Neil’s eyes never leave your body as it is fully revealed to him. As much as you want to be shy you know you shouldn’t be based on the way he is looking at you, so you open your legs for him to see. “You’re so wet baby”
“All for you” you tell him and he grins, finger reaching out and sliding through your folds. Your head falls back when it bumps against your clit and Neil smiles before repeating the same action with his tongue. He had imagined how you would taste hundreds of times but this was better. You tasted so much better than anything he could’ve conjured up. Neil is no longer worried about going too far and has started to devour you like a man starved. He’s so good and you are so glad you finally decided to do this. Imagining going back to a life without Neil eating you was a life not worth living.
“Fuck, I need to be inside of you baby” and you nod eagerly, grinning at the slick that covers his chin. He watches as you reach to the bedside table, opening the drawer, and grabbing a condom you had stashed in there. Neil knows now you had been planning this all along. He wastes no time putting it on before lining up at your entrance. Your hands hold his biceps, eagerly waiting the moment he’d break that barrier for you. Officially make you no longer a virgin.
You’re whimpering as he runs his tip through your folds, on the verge of begging him to do something when finally he pushes in only slightly. You wince which makes him freeze. “It’s okay, keep going”
“You sure?” and you nod, holding him close as he slowly moves inside. It doesn’t take long for the pain to turn to pleasure and Neil closes his eyes, trying to think of anything else other than the fact that you were practically sucking him in. Usually the image of Nolan in his underwear did it for him.
“Please move” you whisper and Neil nods feverishly, slowly pulling his hips back before thrusting back into you. You don’t expect the low moan to rattle out of you due to the movement and once it reaches Neil’s ears he finds a quick pace, pumping into you like a man who no longer has anything holding back.
“Shit, you feel so good” Neil doesn’t think he has ever experienced this type of bliss before. There will never again be no better feeling in the world especially because the girl he loves so much is now marked entirely as his. You have no idea about the ring he has stashed away for graduation, and you have no idea he had planned on marrying you since the first day you both met. He would’ve been fine waiting until marriage but for once he finally understands why it was so good to wait for the right person. Yes, sex could be about the feeling but when you love the person you’re experiencing it with it adds an entire layer of pleasure. Charlie never understood that, Neil couldn’t wait to tell him. Charlie deserved this feeling too.
“Baby, I’m so close” you pant out, and Neil smiles as he leans down to kiss you. He can feel the way you clench around him and he knows he won’t last long. So he moves to speed up the process. You gasp the moment his hand meets your clit, and his mouth meets your nipple. Neil may have been a virgin but he also knew Charlie all his life. He was an expert because of his friend by senior year of high school.
The action alone has you coming undone in seconds, clenching around him so tightly Neil’s movements falter for a moment. When you relax into the mattress, a blissed out look on your face, Neil finds himself letting go and finishing right behind you. When his body weight lands on top of you, you can’t help but smile. Your hand meets the back of his head, fingers running through his hair as he kisses your neck.
“I can’t believe you expect me to still go to play practice after this and remember my lines” Neil says which has you giggling in an instant and Neil hisses when you flutter around his dick still buried deep inside of you. Slowly he pulls out, both of you breathing heavily from the action.
“I’m sorry baby, I just couldn’t wait” you tell him and he smiles as he kisses you sweetly.
“I can’t wait to tell Charlie” he says once he pulls away and you roll your eyes at the mention of his friend. One you had only met once or twice on a Winter or Summer break but knew was Neil’s best friend.
“Of course you would say that” you tell him because whenever Neil accomplished anything his first instinct was to always call Charlie. Charlie heard he got the lead in the play before you did. Yet after everything they had been through together, sometimes you just had to deal with it.
“What, he’s my best friend” Neil defends as you just giggle and pull his lips back to your own.
“Yeah well tell him he has to share”
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randomgurl2326 · 3 months
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Today I will be honoring Neil Perry, may he rest in peace. We will never know his great face any longer.
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R.I.P.
Neil Perry 🕊️
“I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately, I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life”
November 10, 1942 —
December 15, 1959
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letraspal · 1 year
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I'm gonna do it! Whether my father wants me to or not! Carpe diem!
Wolfstar x DPS AU | Vol. 1
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sandyemmar · 5 months
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shout out to neil perry, your ass would’ve LOVED asleep by the smiths
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shadowseductress · 5 months
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"My child is completely fine"
Your child's favourite movie is Dead Poets Society.
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bproccoli · 1 year
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"Todd!" Charlie threw the door open, startling the two people in the room. One of them stood on a chair while the other was half-kneeling on the floor. "What are you doing?"
"Practicing." Neil explained as he got up. "He's Oberon and I'm Puck."
"Uh-huh. Sure." Charlie leaned on the doorframe. "Well, Oberon, get your ass down that chair. We have a game to win."
"Right, the game." Todd repeated in realization. "I forgot."
"I figured." Charlie replied. "I've since learned to accept the fact that I'll always be second to Neil."
"That's not true." Neil smirked at him. "You probably rank even lower than that."
"What are you talking about?" Todd jumped down from the chair, shoving the script onto Neil's hands. "I treat everyone the same way."
Neil and Charlie looked at each other.
"No. No. There's definitely a ranking and Neil's number one." Charlie said. "Everyone can see that."
"Yeah, I'm the favorite." Neil agreed, nodding.
"No, you're not." Todd argued. He looked at Charlie's disbelieving expression and insisted, "He's not!"
"I'm not?"
"No! I don't have a favorite."
"A good moral, my lord: It is not enough to speak, but to speak true." Neil read from the script before showing it to Todd. "See? Shakespeare said lying's bad."
"Shut up. Who's your favorite, then?"
"You."
Todd, who was caught off guard, stood unmoving for a significant amount of time.
"There goes my teammate." Charlie commented by the door before turning around and walking away. "Meeks! Look for another player. We got a man down."
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inahallucination · 8 months
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famous au but um dumb
@cowboylexapro
if the poets were on social media and famous this is what they'd be known for
(age somewhere between 19-21)
todd
tumblr blog name: toad.anderson
ao3 name: toad.writes
he's technically anon but not rlly
sexiest tumblr account known to man - he's a fanfic writer and an au poster with some occasional og stuff that floods his inbox with asks begging him to publish his og work too - what fandom does he write for? all of them.
his bf proof reads them all even if he's never been in the fandom
he writes fics for his friends when they get famous
in between his novel worthy fanfics are shitty fics of his friends
his followers get rlly confused
he wrote a neil x reader fic until straight girls started claiming it and he took it down becuz the reader was him
todd on his blog: guyss… im so sorry but im taking the neil x reader fic down… im sorry if i offend anyone but the reader was me ❤️ not you - i don't like you all claiming it
after taking down the x reader, he does a neil x oc but the oc is him but with green eyes
neil, after the oc gets described: todd the only person im seeing is u tho 😦 and u have blue eyes
eventually his relationship with famous tiktoker neil perry gets revealed and ppl realize he's not just an obsessed fan
after neil says the thing blog: toad.anderson: guys my real name is todd anderson everyone: omg we wouldve never guessed
after neil and him go public and ppl dont believe that neil is gay he alternates between seething and writing neil fics and taking joy from neil's confusion
todd points out comments that are obviously thirsting over neil and neil still doesn't realize he's being thirsted over
"neil be the father of my children!" "oh i think they meant that in a godfather type way"
todd, at a breaking point, suggests that neil and him post a kissing video but neil doesnt wanna be one of those shawn camilla couples - respect
what if he posted them kissing but he made a historians will call them bestfriends joke but then ppl did🧍‍♂️
"my bestie and I 🤩 " "NEIL PEOPLE ARE GOING TO THINK UR SERIOUS"
//
neil
tiktok name: neilliard.at.julliard
accidentally tiktok famous for pretty face, charming personality, acting abilities - the theater kids had a claim over him orignially but he's pretty mainstream now
comment section full of old grandmas trying to set him up with their granddaughters
everyones dream bf until he posted about his own bf
neil: my boyfie has a big tumblr and he writes a lot and he really likes frogs and he is also blond and heres his address
hes kinda oblivious about everything
"you want a close up of my collar bones? why ?"
reading comment "'show your abs?' its nice you think i have abs! only my boyfriend can see those tho 😉 "
the comments go wild
people are stitching it screaming for different reasons
all his fans r screaming into pillows bc HES TAKEN NOOO
people are trying to figure out who this mans boyfie is
"he has a boyfriend??" "he's been straightbaiting us!" "NOO HE'S TAKEN" "IS UR BF AS HOT AS U" "look at the way his eyes lit up when he said bf i love love" "this video shows an aspect of society that-"
"tell us about ur bf" and he makes a week worth of videos but its all random stuff
"my bf looks pretty in blue" "my bf likes to put salt and pepper on his fries" "my bf has hair"
the straightbaiting comments come after him posting about pride and having a pride flag in the background of his videos <- they say things like "he's such a good ally"
people attack others in the comments who ask him if hes queer "NO NEIL ISNT GAY NOT EVERYTHING HAS TO BE GAY HE COULD JUST BE A REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY FRUITY STRAIGHT GUY WHO LIKES GIRLS"
"are you gay neil???" -> "not everything has to be gay ppl can just be allys and btw by assuming every ally is gay, ur actually hurting the movement!!!" -> "i asked becuz he said he wanted to kiss his boy best friend on the lips in highschool" -> "he meant it heterosexual-ly"
someone asks him what his type is and he describes todd to the t and they think he likes a short haired blonde
"he likes girls in sweat pants not skirts" "his type isnt ppl in skirts" -- neil would love todd in a skirt but thats not the point
his type: "he's really shy, gorgeous, short dirty blonde hair, uhhhh, really smart, and So much more :))"
he could say my boyfriend is a man who i am dating because i am gay and they would still try to straight-ify him
a grainy video gets leaked of a short haired blond guy jumping into his arms and ppl say things like "its just a girl with short hair"
todd hate writes a neil x male reader fic
he asks his friends for help and they post todd's face everywhere on his recording set
he makes a video like "meet my toddy"
in the video todd says he's a boy and he's todd and he's neil boyfriend 3485757 times and neil is like "omg babe i love u too <33" becuz he doesnt Understand
some ppl r still in denial or think he's bi w/ a preference for girls
straight girls like him becuz he has a pretty face and a general respect for women
during prom season, he gets dmed a lot of websites for buying prom tickets
"don't worry guys! i know i said my high school time was rough, but i actually did go to prom with my bf!!"
//
charlie
twitter name: therealalpha
most popular podcast name: daltons intercourse
joke/bait account ppl took seriously
The Alpha that other alpha posters bow to
says stuff like "SIGMA MALES KISS ALPHAS ON THE MOUTH TO ASSURT DOMINANCE"
the twitter alphas buy into him so bad he's making podcasts and doign interviews and he has no clue how tf he got here but he's riding the high
he advocates for being alpha via kissing ur homies
when he gets famous he begs todd to write a fic about him
todd agrees pretty easily tbh
"ARE YOU EVEN AN ALPHA MALE IF PPL AREN'T WRITING GAY FICS ABOUT YOU"
charlie posts things like "no homo" "only the real make out with their homies" over those black and white pics of muscle-y dudes w/ no context after the neil video he posts "he homo" over one of them w/ no context
at first ppl try to attack him but then theyre like wtf is going on here and realize he's trolling the alpha community
when no one realizes neil is actually gay he makes a podcast episode talking about how he thinks neil is gay gay homosexual gay - he's holding a cigar and wearing a tight hawaiian unbuttoned shirt like "lets talk about this gay gay theater gay boykisser man"
made by @cowboylexapro
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//
pitts
youtube name: gerdoesstuff
joint youtube name: idkman
homework help and crafts videos youtuber - relaxed vibes only here to be calm
he gives study and concentration tips and encourages ppl to seek help and companionship and not suffer alone
he paints mugs and looks for bugs
he was on charlie's podcast and they discussed the alpha-ness of making pottery
todd wrote a pitts x reader fic becuz ppl begged him to
pitts printed it out and framed it and put it in his filming set up
he's a regular on meeks podcast too btw and meeks is a regular on his
but when meeks is around things explode so
he has a second channel with meeks where they do silly experiments
theyre posting schedule is non-existent and they also do streams but they never tell you so their viewers just have to hope and find out
knox and him are planning on making a movie review channel but its still not fully thought out so
he makes couple mugs for todd and neil when neil asks for help
he wakes up at 2 am and sends todd prompts
anytime he learns a fun fact he sends it to todd on the off chance todd may need it for a story at some point in his life
anytime he reads anything he's like damn neil will love to act like this character and lets him know about it
he sends charlie alpha podcasters to make fun of
at some point he exposes cam's shitty handwriting for the giggles
knox
instagram name: knoxious.ur.mom.ious
he posted a short on his instagram talking about how he just learned hair grows from the head and not the bottom and blew up for being a dummy - he doesn't know whats going on but he's having a blast
he stirs up drama but on accident
he was on pitts youtube before
out of everyone here he's the only one not making content he's just vibing
eventually he ends up posting background footage of everyone doing dumb shit
when it comes out theyre friends ppl stalk his instagram to find more proof
after that he starts to stir drama but more consciously
hmm what else - idk he's just chilling, getting called out for being dumb and watching his friends do dumb stuff
oh wait when he makes that short about the hair a bunch of commentary channels post about it and he takes it like a badge of honor
cameron
instagram name: cam.studies
pinterest name: cam.studies
one of those aesthetic studying accounts on insta and pinterest - takes nice shots of his homework and his pen collections and his study desk
except its only for the pics his handwriting is atrocious - he has like one page or paragraph of pretty handwriting to post and the rest is scribbled chaos - his pens are never organized by color, theyre just thrown in a box, and his desk is filled with papers and books and never looks clean but its fine he's just here for clout
he ends up sponsoring and reviewing businesses that make those cute study supplies so now he has a hoard - or at least he did until his friends started taking them
he groaned about the cam.studies x {random ass ppl} fics todd wrote but he thinks theyre funny and has them bookmarked
he went on charlie's podcast and the two argued for half of it and then explained how as two alphas they would settle their differences by kissing
his friends help him angle his aesthetic shots at cafes and shit
he got exposed eventually as a fake becuz ppl (cough) posted his real notes which were messy and disorganized
but he played it off as a commentary about how the internet is fake and got more sponsorships
he judges todd and neil but is eating popcorn at the front seat of the drama
meeks
podcast name: chameleon hotel
youtube channel name: idkman
meeks makes a podcast for very stupid intricate crimes. he has a cult following of bisexuals
its stuff like drama over a tree being taken down
"the locals even called their beloved tree 'ole alvin'"
charlie: todd write a meeks x ole alvin fic
he has standards, so he does
he went on charlie's podcast and convinced ppl that being with other men allowed u to suck in their alpha-ness and become the ultimate alpha
but generally he just makes his little silly videos and makes cryptic posts about the neil todd drama
has a joint channel w/ pitts
is up to date with the neil thing and is the one to send neil updates
he tries to convince neil to act out his podcasts (with a lot of success lmao)
he tries to convince todd to write fics based on his podcasts (also with a lot of success)
as payback for the ole alvin x meeks fic he convinces todd (very easily) to write a bunch of dumb charlie fics and todd agrees becuz he has standards
no one actually knows that the poets know each other
they eventually post a group photo
"we need to cancel neil perry for being friends with an alpha podcast guy" "nah thats just charlie"
"yall know hes bi, right?"
"he literally has a podcast about how sucking dick as a man makes u the ultimate alpha male"
it does explain why charlie's alpha podcast go from tiktok actor, tumblr fanfic writer, instagram study blog, fellow podcaster, hw help tiktoker in between his satire of normal alpha tiktokers
half of these things are like copy and pasted from our conversation btw so dont blame me for them
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augiewrites · 5 months
Text
"secret admirer" - dead poets society (part 2)
summary: a group of boys catches y/n's eye in keating's class
pairing: anonymous!dead poet x gender neutral reader
word count: 600+
previous | next
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Keating’s class wasn’t like the others at Welton. Walking into the classroom felt like a warm embrace and Keating himself stoked the fires of his students’ creativity.
But not today—not for Y/N.
They had never been so distracted in their life. Just walking into the classroom, Y/N debated asking Keating for a pass to the infirmary. Knowing they were being observed is one thing, but knowing exactly when is a whole other scenario.
Especially when they have no clue who’s eye they’re under.
Despite their nerves, Y/N took their usual seat. Two rows from the front, on the farthest row to the left. Not too close to be the center of any teacher’s impulse, but not too far away to get distracted by the rest of the class. Today was different, though. The only thing Y/N could bring themselves to care about was their classmates.
Y/N angled themselves in their seat in order to take in the classroom as students trickled in. In honesty, Y/N should have realized sooner that the culprit was in their English class—the amount of passion their classmates had shown throughout the year had never failed to take them by surprise. After all, Welton was not a place for passion.
Their eyes landed on a group of boys huddled around Knox Overstreet’s desk. Memories of the boy reciting a pathetic—albeit sweet—love poem to the class flooded their mind. The group of boys did always seem to be more enthusiastic about the class than most.
Despite telling their roommate they didn’t want to play detective, Y/N themselves straining to hear bits of their conversation—something about a book and finding a new meeting spot. They didn’t hear much as Keating entered the room and made his way to the front of the class. Charlie Dalton caught their eye as the group disbanded, sending them a wink and making a finger gun gesture at them.
Y/N couldn’t help but roll their eyes.
Dalton was a mere annoyance on a good day.
Todd Anderson walked to his seat in front of Y/N, and gave them a sheepish smile as he shrugged a shoulder in a “what can you do” gesture.
Y/N decided that was enough detective work for the period as Keating began a boisterous speech on Romantic contemporaries. All they wanted to do was lose themselves in Keating’s whimsy for the next hour, but a familiar envelope laying inside their desk compartment stopped any hope they had of forgetting about their admirer.
Moving as discreetly as possible, Y/N pulled out the letter along with their notes and textbook. The whole world muffled as they read:
From afar, I gaze, A silent, secret admiration, Your light shines bright, In my quiet contemplation.
And when you laugh, a melody, It dances in the breeze, I cherish each sweet note, With every sigh, I'm at ease.
Oh, how I wish for closeness, To bridge this gap in fate, To hold you near, not distant, To share life's love, not wait.
x, Yours.
Y/N couldn’t help the smile spreading across their face, nor the blush that accompanied it. They were so engrossed in the feeling that they didn’t notice the satisfied gaze they were receiving from afar.
The rest of the period passed in a haze, and Y/N was thankful Keating wasn’t a fan of pop quizzes. Y/N could barely focus on where they were, let alone absorb anything meaningful from the lesson.
Their eyes locked on Steven Meeks—thank God Keating had called him by name that period—shoving his notes in his backpack.
They had to act, and it was now or never.
~~~
part three
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dearsnow · 7 months
Text
THE LAST TIME
- ten out of the countless times you have seen neil perry, and nine where you saw him alive. (neil perry x gn! implied to be shy reader, fluff to angst, canon-typical main character death, major spoilers for dps but i assume you’ve watched it before, i included my own poetry so i hope y’all like it, sad face emoji i teared up while writing this).
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word count: 9,006
a/n - thank you so so much to my beta readers @sorencd and @chuudidit for reading this massive piece, i appreciate you endlessly <3 this was definitely a labor of love, one that i took a considerable amount of time to write and edit. i adore dead poets society and poetry in general (i have written 130+ poems and never plan on stopping) so i definitely needed to put my thoughts into words lol 😭 anyways, i hope you enjoy, because i definitely enjoyed writing this for you.
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When Neil Perry first saw you, and god, did he see you, he knew nothing would ever be the same again.
You were simply sitting there under the old tree just outside the borders of Welton with a book under your nose and the soft rays of a flashlight filtering through your hair. You had one knee up, holding the book in a gentle balancing act as he stared. Charlie gave him a nudge, eyebrows raised and a tease on the tip of his tongue, but Neil couldn’t even move. He was completely and utterly dumbstruck. The moon was hanging above your head, full and bright, drowning you in a poetic haze. You flipped a page and he could feel his heart beating in his chest. He thought he had never seen anything so beautiful before, and he had no idea why.
After a long minute, he peeled his gaze away from the figure under the tree and followed the other dead poets to their second ever meeting. From the corner of his eye, he swore he saw you glance up at him when he passed, but no one else seemed to notice.
When Neil and the poets were walking back to Welton, you weren’t there- something Neil noticed instantly. Of course, being who he was, Todd noticed that Neil noticed, and Charlie noticed that Todd noticed, and before he knew it, Neil and his fixation were the new tortured topics of the evening. 
“Oh, love at first sight! The most beautiful kind.” Charlie teased, clasping his hands and spinning around. “How romantic.”
Neil shook his head, trying desperately to clear his suspicions. “It’s not like that. I swear, it’s not even a crush. I just thought it was weird.”
Cameron chimed in with a slightly hushed tone. At least he was aware of the fact that they were quickly approaching the earshot of every single person in Welton Academy. “I wonder where they came from. I mean, it couldn’t have been comfortable or safe to be out here at night. Especially alone.”
“Same. What do you think they were reading?” Neil responded, quick to try and put the teasing behind him. Despite his efforts, the teasing carried long into the night and the days following it. It seemed like nothing and no one would ever let him forget he ever saw you.
He would find out later that you were reading a poetry book.
He saw you for the second time on a trip to the main town. He recognized you instantly, from what little knowledge of you he had gained. You had the same hair, the same stature, the same book tucked under your arm as you peered into the musty old bookstore in the back corner. Just Todd was with him this time, and he definitely knew what was up.
Todd glanced at him, a warm expression on his face. Once again, Neil was entranced.
In the new glorious daylight, he noticed things he never could’ve before. The undertones of your hair, your skin, the way you seemed to glow even when you dipped into the shadows. He saw the pure beauty of you in a manner he had never seen anyone else in before. He took a step forward, pulled towards you somehow as his heart beat a mile a minute. The bookstore loomed over you, cracked and imperfect, yet casting the evening in a scene plucked out of a storybook. You turned, seeming to have seen him in the window’s reflection, and he flinched. He almost had a heart attack as his brain registered the color of your eyes and exactly how your mouth pulled up into a smile. Quickly turning away, he grabbed Todd’s sleeve and hightailed it out of there. Todd followed, as he always did. Neil was enamored, and Todd could tell.
“Do you think they saw me?” Neil gasped, pulling Todd into the square’s corner. He was panting lightly, red-cheeked, with a lopsided grin on his face. Todd had never seen him nervous, much less shy. In fact, he was the opposite- friendly, inclusive, and not the type to run away from a challenge. Something must have been different about you.
Todd raised his eyebrows. “Probably, Neil, they looked back.” He, too, saw your eyes, though he was mostly focused on the anxiety coursing through his veins rather than committing them to memory.
Neil’s gasping breaths were definitely louder than they needed to be. “Oh god, they definitely saw me. They probably think I’m a creep. Jesus, it’s definitely over.”
“What’s over?” Todd put a hand on his shoulder worriedly. “There was nothing there to begin with. They’re just a person, you’ll be fine.”
“Way to kill my dreams, Todd. Look, can you promise me that you won’t tell this to anyone else?” Neil asked, suddenly very serious. He glanced around like someone would waltz into the trash-filled and truthfully disgusting corner. The bathrooms were just around the bend, and he could smell it.
Intrigued, Todd nodded.
“I need you to say it. Promise me.” Neil whispered. His coat crinkled as he moved closer to Todd, the material dipping around his sweater. The fall air was the perfect background for whatever Neil was trying to get up to.
“I promise.”
Neil grinned boyishly and glanced around the corner again. “This is stupid, but I think I’m in love.” From the look in his eyes, Todd could definitely tell. His friend was suddenly more animated than he had been in a very long while, and he knew that he would do anything to keep him that way. His caution, however, took over.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. What if you never see them again?”
“And what if I do?” Neil breathed. “What if I see them tomorrow, or the next day, or a week from now? What if I see them every day of my life because I just went out and said something?”
Todd shook his head. “Just be careful, alright? There’s a very good chance that nothing will come of it.” Neil clasped Todd’s jacket, quirking his eyebrows.
“No.”
“What do you mean, ‘no’?”
“Just no.”
The first time you saw Neil Perry, you didn’t even know you saw him. You were sitting under a tree, reading an Emily Dickinson book you bought in the town’s bookstore. It was a way to relax to you. A way to forget all of your troubles and just enjoy the wonders of the world. You don’t know why you picked that tree, or why you stayed so long you had to use the flashlight you so hastily packed, but life has its ways of pulling you towards something you didn’t know existed.
The scenery was absolutely beautiful, even at night. You wrapped your thick coat tightly around your shoulders. The fall leaves beneath you gave a crackle and the moon hung high above your head, slightly illuminating your page. Welton Academy loomed just outside of your line of sight. It was beautiful, too, but something about the cold stone walls made you shiver.
As time slipped away, you began to hear a hushed cacophony of boys around your age coming out of the school to the side of you. They had their hoods up, laughing and giggling like they were in some sort of secret club. You looked up, and one of them stopped dead in his tracks. You could see his breaths clouding in the night as the others urged him forward. Your eyes drifted back down to your book, as if you were embarrassed. The moment broke, and he was on his way.
You weren’t there for his return back to Welton.
The second time you saw him, you noticed him a lot more clearly. You were window shopping just outside of the bookstore. Even though the building was dusty and marred, it smelled like home. It smelled like stories and adventures and comfort. You were a frequent visitor to this place, and one of the owner’s best customers. 
He often set up his new imports in the big, yellow-tinted window in front of you. As you gazed in, you noticed a face appear in the space next to you. You turned around partially, meeting his dark brown eyes. Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at him.
It was an electric moment. His lips were slightly parted, and the gray clouds above him were engorged with unshed tears. You gaped at him, dumbfounded, as milliseconds ticked away like hours.
Before you knew it, he had sped away with his friend in tow. Huh, you hadn’t even noticed he had a friend. All you could think about was the fact that he looked familiar, and the fact that he was the most handsome boy you had ever had the pleasure of locking eyes with.
His stature reminded you of the boy by the tree, the boy from Welton Academy. There was just something about him that screamed “you saw him once in a dream”.
Somehow, you thought one simple thought: you were in love with someone you did not know.
When Neil saw you for the third time, and the third time you saw him, he worked up the courage to talk to you.
Mr. Keating was instructing the boys outside yet again. They were in the courtyard, taking inspiration from the world around them. From leaves, patches of mud, anything that struck their fancy. 
You were taking a walk by campus. Once again, you didn’t know why; you just were. The boys were not a quiet group, and you could hear their shouts very clearly. You strained your ears, hoping to hear one voice in particular. Of course, you didn’t know what his voice sounded like, but you were listening anyway. If you were right, and he was a boy from Welton, maybe you might be able to catch a word or two.
That’s when Neil spotted the person walking loops around the front of campus. Maybe, for the first time, you could be his inspiration.
He looked over his shoulder, quickly trying to assess whether he could slip away unnoticed or not. No one seemed to be looking at him. He left his group behind and jogged up next to you.
You saw him coming. Even from a distance, you knew it was him. Your heart began to pound in your ears, loud and fast and just a little bit lovesick. You were right.
“Hey!” He exclaimed. You took a small step back. Your nerves were on their highest setting and your mind was reeling. What did he think of you, you wondered. More importantly, who was he?
As he approached, you put on your best nervous smile. “Hi.”
“My name’s Neil.” He said, reaching out a hand for you to shake. You complied quickly, saying your own name in turn. His palms were slightly damp, but you couldn’t blame him. Yours were probably worse.
The moment your hand held his, fitting perfectly under his fingers, he knew you were made for him. “I saw you in town the other day. Do you like books?” 
Your voice was hesitant, unsure, and Neil wished he could reach out and smooth the wrinkles in the sound like an old coat. “Yeah.”
“What were you reading?” Neil asked. He tried to stamp down his own nerves, but something about you made his breaths flutter in and out like butterfly wings. It was a feeling he was completely and entirely new to.
You shifted the bag on your shoulder to your hands, reaching in to pull out the book. “Oh, Poems by Emily Dickinson. It’s not the traditional type of book, but I love poetry.” Your cheeks began to warm. You knew nothing about this boy. What if he thought poetry was stupid, just a lesson in his English class and nothing else? How could anyone know how much those words meant to you?
Neil beamed, big and wide and lovesick. You truly were perfect for him, he thought. Poetry. You certainly were poetic, with those gorgeous eyes and an equally beautiful mind. “I love poetry too.” He breathed.
Your tense smile turned genuine. “You do? That’s awesome.” A quiet flutter started to pick up in your heart.
“Yeah. You know what?” He grinned, “my friends and I have a sort of poetry club. The dead poets society- we do readings, original works, whatever the members are feeling at the moment.” He sucked in a silent breath, pausing just enough to let his reeling mind decide on what he wanted to say. “It’s at night in the old Indian cave.” You nodded along to his words, growing increasingly intrigued the further he carried on. This dead poets society began to excite you. It was all you ever wanted in life: a community of like-minded people sharing the verses that made your heart tick. “If you want, I mean, you should go to our next meeting. It’s tonight.” Neil offered. He could tell his words were cycling through your mind, finally catching up to his proposal.
You wanted to join the dead poets society so badly it made your heart ache. A little inkling, though, in the back of your head, sparked a pit in your stomach. “Would your friends be okay with me being there? I�� I don’t exactly know them.”
Neil was head over heels. You were so wonderfully lively, in the way that a breeze touching his eyelashes with the tips of its fingers would be. You were exactly how he expected, and exactly who he needed.
He waved away your concern with the flip of a hand and a laugh. “Don’t worry about it. The others bring guests too, and gosh, I’m sure they’re going to love you! Especially Todd. I’m sure you two would get along real well.” 
“Then I’ll definitely be there.” You replied. The sparkle in your eye shot Neil at full force. You were excited, smiling, happy. He made you happy. He mentally patted himself on the back.
“Great!” Leaves rustled from behind Neil, and you could see a group of boys approaching in the near distance. “Shoot. I gotta go, but make sure to show up. I’ll be waiting for you.” He whispered, leaning in closer to you before turning around to walk towards the group. You felt cold air where he had once been, and you wished for a moment that he would come back. His friends, however, were hooting and hollering, and you thought you could hear a kissy noise or two. You shook your head, a shaky warmth creeping its way up your neck, before turning to walk away.
You were going to go to a secret meeting in a secret cave at a hauntingly secret hour, and you had never been quite so excited in your entire life.
The fourth time you saw each other was the dead poets society meeting. You were brimming with nerves beforehand, shaking fingers gathering your materials as you tried to prepare for waltzing into a place with people entirely unknown to you. The bag you were holding contained a couple of your favorite poetry books, your own poems scratched in the empty spaces on certain pages that really inspired you. You weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to read a poem out loud, especially your own work, but earlier in the evening, you resolved to “go with the flow” and do what the others were doing. You hoped you wouldn’t have to regret that decision later.
After putting everything together and making sure to turn off your light and close your door, you slipped out of your house into the black night.
The scenery on your walk was entirely too beautiful. You never noticed just how much the bark on trees formed swirling patterns, or how the stars seemed to twinkle on their own. The ground under your feet was littered with fallen leaves in fiery shades and clumps of moist dirt. You began to smile just a little bit, thinking of a poem you had written when autumn had first started. That is surely what you would say if the dead poets wanted you to speak.
Nothing felt greater than breathing in the crisp, cold air and swinging your arms as you stepped along the path less traveled on. 
When you finally reached the cave, heart significantly lighter, the sound of laughter floated up to your ears. It was bountiful and boyish and beautiful. You peered around the edge of the cave entrance, and Neil’s eye immediately caught on you.
“Come in, come in! We’re just about to begin.” He called. You stepped fully into the light and glanced around at your company.
They were giggling and shoving, gaping at you and Neil with a sort of uncertain certainty. Some were standing, some sitting, a couple moving around, and all of them male. You took a seat next to Neil, between him and the boy you saw with him in town. He gave you a meaningful nod and looked to Neil, who was opening an old, thick book. He was frightened to so much as speak in front of you, as silly as it might have seemed.
“Attention, dead poets. Today is another wonderful night.” He announced, voice deep and commanding and humorously theatrical. “I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately… I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life! To put to rout all that was not life… And not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived…” His voice trailed off, and someone from the back of the cave echoed his last word. He closed the book with a snap, and the boys began to murmur excitedly.
Neil took a seat and turned to you, a glimmer of something sweet in his eye. When he looked at you, all he saw was magnificence. “Who wants to start?”
A boy jumped up. In his fist was a crumpled piece of paper, which he made a show of unfolding. “For those of you who don’t know,” He said, with a pointed glance at you, “my name is Nuwanda, and today, I actually made a poem.”
A couple boys yelled in support, and Neil gave you a nudge. “Charlie Dalton.” He whispered, making sure to not alert the others. You thanked him with a shy nod. Then, as “Nuwanda” was starting to begin his woefully homemade poem, Neil put his arm around your shoulders. 
His touch sent jitters through your entire body, lighting you up like a firework. It just felt so right, so natural, so breathtaking. It felt exactly like shaking his hand and feeling his eyes and seeing his breath hang in the air- like it was destined, written in the stars, utterly perfect. You leaned into his touch, feeling his warm breath fanning over the back of your neck and shoulder. “To live, to learn, to die,
my boys, 
to see, to love, to burn. 
To touch, to know, to harm, 
my dear,
to eat, to reap, to sow.” 
Charlie recited. For someone who seemingly took poetry lightly, he wasn’t particularly bad. He put more passion into his words than most other boys you knew. In fact, you’re sure he would be a great writer if he put more than an ounce of effort into it.
He took a bow as the room erupted into applause, Neil’s arm still wrapped around you. He could feel it too, the electricity. He wanted nothing more than to bottle that feeling and keep it forever.
Charlie sat, staring at you and Neil with a smirk on the corners of his lips. “Hey, why don’t we let our guest take a crack at it?”
The cave filled with a rumble of excitement from all of the poets. Neil’s brows were furrowed, but he gave an urge of support anyway. “If you want to, of course.”
You wanted to. Energy thrummed throughout your company, filling you with a sense of confidence you rarely had anywhere else. For once, you truly wanted to speak up. The air was crackling with a sense of anxious anticipation, and you could smell the love each boy held for each other. They knew, somehow, that the moment meant a lot to Neil, and they were willing to put aside any inhibitions to help him enjoy the night.
“I’ll go.” You uttered. Neil’s face lit up as his previous worries slunk away into the night.
You pulled out a book from your usual bag and opened it to the page you knew so well you could recite the poem it held without looking. And, of course, your own poem was scribbled in the margins. 
Everyone was attempting to peer over your shoulder, to take a glimpse of what made you a poet. Having attention on you was an odd feeling, like ants crawling along the back of your spine. You took a deep breath. “When you die,
the beetles will still sing.
The trout will still jump,
and the earth will still rumble.
When you die, the moon will still turn
and the stars will still burn.
When you die,
The lakes will still ripple
and the trees will still creak
and I will lower you into the ground
and I will cry so hard the world stops moving.”
As the last words left your lips, a profound silence enveloped the group. Then, all at once, it exploded.
“We’ve got a real poet in here!” Came Charlie’s teasing (yet not entirely unkind) voice. “Truly Keating material. What sparked your creative melancholy?”
You felt yourself glowing as you sat. If you were being honest, you never could have imagined that anyone would genuinely enjoy your work. That notion was entirely unfounded and untrue, considering they were a group of poets, but it persisted nonetheless. “I don’t know, really. Just the notion of losing a loved one, I suppose.”
When Neil saw you, in that moment, when he heard your voice, he couldn’t breathe. He knew so little about you, yet you pumped his pulse up to be as fast as a racehorse. He wanted, no, he needed to learn everything that made you you. He needed to know what you looked like when waking up in the morning, or how your fingers felt threading through his hair, or your deepest, most desperate passions. He needed to be so close to you he could feel your heartbeat through the fabric of your shirt. He was intrigued. 
When he first discovered acting, he felt the same exact way- a burning desire to learn, to know, to discover. If you let him, he would recite his lines all the way into your heart.
The meeting continued as the sky grew ever darker, complete with poems and rhymes and words spoken in deliberately lyrical tones. You fell into every verse and every story as easily as you would if they were written in a book. You began to learn every name in the room, and they quickly caught on to yours. It was a community, a group of people that began to feel like home. 
Of course, by the time they decided to end things, the stars were full and bright. The sun would surely peek its head out of the fog in a couple hours. You were smiling harder and more genuinely than you ever had before, with Neil by your side, and Todd on your other. As they all stood up to leave with boisterous whispers, Neil turned to you.
“Will you come tomorrow? And the next, and every day after that?” His question was so excited, so innocent, like he didn’t know that you would kill for the chance to be near him and everything he held dear.
You smiled. “Of course. I’ll be a dead poet for life.”
Your eighth encounter with Neil was not a lucky twist of fate. He got permission to leave school for some something or other that you never bothered to find out. Now, it was just you two and the big town square looming in front of you.
In truth, it wasn’t that big, but when you’re standing at the beginning of a new day with the boy that holds your heart, everything feels intense.
He took hold of the sleeve of your sweater, as he so often did, and you descended upon the shops.
“Come on, you’ve absolutely got to try the milkshakes at Tom’s Ice Cream Parlor! They’re just the best. Hurry, hurry!” He tugged you along, a bright smile on his face. God, how you loved him.
You had grown closer in the past five dead poets society meetings. Often, he would stay with you in the cave long after the meetings had ended. You would talk about whatever crossed your mind in the moment, and he would spin stories out of thin air. He didn’t ever seem to talk about real life things, though. His work at school, sure, but anything outside of that was uncharted territory. When you asked him about his family, he just clammed up.
You laughed as he weaved through the clumps of people with you in tow. “Slow down, Neil! You’re gonna get us killed.”
The sound of your voice, especially your laugh, was something Neil had come to relish. He would keep you talking all day if it meant he could hear that giddy ring in his ears every time he craved your presence. “You’ve just got to go faster. The line is horrific at this time of day.” 
“This place had better be good.”
“It is, believe me. It’ll be the best you’ve ever had.”
When you arrived, bodies hot and just a little uncomfortably sweaty, the sight of the ice cream parlor was a welcome one. He led you through the doors and ran his fingers through his tousled hair. You wished you could do it for him. The line was, unsurprisingly, quite long. You made idle chat, but his words fell on deaf ears as you stared at him.
“…he was real impressed when Charlie played his sax. Mr. Nolan, though, he definitely wasn’t-“ And, before you could think about it, before the screaming in your head could tell you no, you reached up and smoothed the cowlick that always seemed to mess up his part. When you pulled your hand away, he was beaming.
“Thanks.” He said, simply. You smiled back at him.
“No problem. So, what happened to Charlie afterwards?” You questioned. Neil gave you a look, one you had come to realize meant “I’ll tell you later”.
As you stood three people away from the front counter, Neil fumbled around in his pockets. “Shoot, I could’ve sworn I brought more money than this…” He muttered. He pulled out a dime and three pennies, all slightly covered in the fuzz from his jacket pocket. “I’m sorry. I don’t know, I must’ve spaced out- I’m usually so good about things like this.”
You took his arm with one hand and slipped the other in your pocket, rooting around for any spare change you had. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure I have more than enough.”
You did not, in fact, have more than enough. You had a single quarter and a spare button. Pooled together, you could get exactly one milkshake and have his three pennies left over. Neil looked at you regretfully.
“You take it. I’ll get one another time.” He said, putting on a smile. “I’ve had too many sweet things today anyways.”
You would not accept this as an answer. Not here, not now. He deserved all the good things life had to offer, and you would be damned if he didn’t get them- starting with this milkshake. “It’s alright, you have it.”
Neil looked at you with furrowed eyebrows. “You should have it, really.” He would be damned if you didn’t get what he dragged you out here to experience. If he could see your face, smiling and sticky-lipped, after taking a sip from something he contributed to, he would be the happiest man on earth. 
The back-and-forth was getting nowhere and you both knew it. “Why don’t we just share it then? Ask for two straws?” You sighed. “It’s the best solution.”
He paused. It wasn’t ideal, and it wasn’t the life he wanted to give you (if this was any indicator), but it would work. Everything would work as long as you were there. “Okay. Yeah, let’s do that.”
There was another quick conversation about which flavor to choose, but you settled on one that you both liked equal amounts. You discovered that he had far different tastes than you milkshake-wise. If you were any less filtered, you would’ve told him his opinions were downright wrong.
You sat with him, smiling so hard you thought your face would break as he finally told you what happened to Charlie. Apparently, Nolan had reprimanded him as he so often had to do, but Charlie couldn’t stop smiling during the lecture. Eventually, Nolan just stopped mid-sentence and ushered the boy out the door. Apparently nothing and no one could ever crush Charlie’s spirit, not even the hardships of wooden rulers.
You leaned in to take a sip absentmindedly. As you reached your straw, you felt the tip of Neil’s nose brush against yours, and you realized you were so close to him you were almost kissing. You pulled back quickly, a hotness enveloping your cheeks.
“Sorry.” You uttered, trying not to look him in the eye. You were so mortified you almost killed yourself on the spot.
Neil, however, was overjoyed. He felt your breath on his chin and it was all he could think about. You, close to him, like you would’ve touched him if you hadn’t pulled away. He relished the feeling.
He shrugged, trying in vain to make it seem like he was just simply all right with it. “It wasn’t a problem,” He said, before noticing that the milkshake was running dangerously low. “Hey, why don’t you take the last sip?”
You cocked your head slightly. “Why?”
“Because I never want to be the one to end it.” He grinned. You shook your head, the corners of your lips rising up as he let out a little laugh. You adored his laugh.
“If you say so.”
That conversation stuck with you a long time after it happened.
It took four more dead poets meetings for Neil to ask you to go somewhere with him again. By the twelfth experience, though, you knew him like the back of your hand.
He loved acting. Loved it. He loved it so desperately that he was willing to face the wrath of his father to pursue the play he was casted in. Oh, and you learned about his father through whispers, mostly from Charlie. Neil, he told you, would never say a word about him. Tyrannical, inhospitable, red-hot like fire and ice-cold like ice. You knew of his mother, too, and her quiet indifference. Neil held a special place in his heart for Todd, the new boy at Welton. He loved puppies and poetry and soft scarves. Not the scratchy ones, as those irritated his neck. He wanted to be an actor in the future, but his father wanted him to be a doctor. He loved so many things, and yet could not have them; however, he definitely hated when people felt sorry for him.
So, you weren’t sorry. You felt his desires like a burning in your gut, stripped away piece by piece, but you were not sorry. You loved him.
You needed him to be fulfilled in every way possible, and you were not sorry. He was going through so many conflicting things, and you were not sorry. You were hopeful.
Life would turn around, you told him. He would see. In ten years, he would be on Broadway, waving at you and Todd and Charlie from the stage. He would be great, and you knew it.
“I’ve never skated like this before. Are you sure it’s safe?” You asked, standing at the edge of Welton’s lake. It was late in fall, with powdery snow dusting the edges of the ground, but the lake may have been in the process of freezing still. Neil took your gloved hands.
“Trust me, it’s good.”
He often asked you to trust him, and you always did. There was just something in his deep, dark eyes that whispered exactly how strong he was.
You took a tentative step onto the ice, nose already feeling the cold burn of pre-winter air. The ground under your feet was slick, but it held. Neil walked backwards, gently guiding you, and you followed.
You found a sort of rhythm in the movements, pushing off with your feet and letting them slide forward on the ice. Neil’s face was tinged with red as you skated on flat shoes, never letting go of your hands. You laughed, truly and honestly. The world spun around you in a blur, white and brown and beautiful. The air snuck through the gaps on your clothes, but you did not care. In that second, it was just you and Neil and the most beautiful day you had ever known.
His eyes softened when he looked at you. Even through the lack of words, he knew exactly what you were thinking. That crinkle by your eyes, the curve of your lips, your laugh. You were content, happy even, because he brought you here. When you reached the middle of the lake, leaning against him, trusting him, he felt a fluttering in his stomach. 
Throughout his days with you, he had come to discover the person behind the book, behind the shy smile. He could firmly say that he knew you, and he loved you even more for it.
He knew your favorite book, which jokes made you laugh so hard tears formed in your eyes, your favorite ice cream flavor. It wasn’t his, but it was completely and entirely you. There was nothing he adored more in the world than you.
You stared at him with a smile gracing your lips as you came to a stop. He reached his hand up to your face and brushed a small snowflake away from the corner of your mouth gently. His hands were soft.
He leaned in closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating from his face. It was now or never, he thought. Carpe diem.
Neil pressed his lips to yours, and all of your feelings exploded from your connected flesh like dynamite.
He was warm, so warm. You kissed him fervently with your arms wrapped around his shoulders like you were dancing. He had finally done it, put to action the kind thoughts he had expressed, and you were glowing. There were stars in your tightly shut eyes, and you reveled in how they spun.
Neil’s mind was racing as you didn’t pull away. He didn’t know what he expected, but you pulling him closer was not his first thought. He most definitely didn’t mind.
When you finally broke the kiss, you were both panting feverishly and looking starved for more. Your combined breaths hung in front of your faces.
“We should do that again.” He whispered. You huffed a laugh, feeling every bit as blushy as he looked.
“Only if you’re okay with never stopping.”
It was a week and a half before Neil’s big play, and the twenty-fourth (maybe twenty-fifth, you had lost count) time you saw him. It was also your tenth official date.
“Date” may have been a loose term, as it was more practicing lines than talking, but the atmosphere was quiet and calm at the café you sat in. There were grainy pictures of favorite customers on the wall and the chairs were just the right amount of wobbly. It felt like a place where you could relax without abandon. Neil’s hand was on top of yours and he was staring deep into your eyes as he spoke line after line, trying to steel his nerves and push past the stress of his approaching deadline.
“If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended, that you have but slumber’d here while these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream, gentles, do not reprehend: if you pardon, we will mend: and, as I am an honest Puck, if we have unearned luck…” He hesitated for a moment, eyes unfocused. You squeezed his hand in support and he gave you a small smile. Clearing his throat, he continued. “…now to ‘scape the serpent’s tongue, we will make amends ere long; else the Puck a liar call; so, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends.” 
You gave a quiet cheer and clasped your hands together. “I think that was your best runthrough yet! I’m so proud of you.”
His eyes lit up as he gazed at you bashfully. “You think?”
“Absolutely. You’re good, you’re really good. You could probably perform tomorrow if you wanted to.” He smiled and ran his fingers over his fleece sleeves as you spoke. If you were in the audience, he was sure he would be able to do anything. “In fact, you could perform any time you wanted to. You’re just that amazing.”
You were so impressed by the sheer amount of talent and emotion he had that you just couldn’t help but smother him in compliments. Every single one was true.
Neil tucked a piece of hair behind his ear, blushing like a madman. Every time you said something kind about him, his heart leapt for joy. “What about you? What have you been working on?” He posed. He had heard your poetry before, of course, but you always seemed to be creating something new.
You pulled out a book from the bag sitting next to you and flipped around. There was one specific poem you wanted him to hear. One you had written about him.
When you found it, you turned the book sideways so you both could see and pointed at it. “This one.” Neil tilted his head, opening his mouth to read it aloud. “I think, 
if I was blind,
I would still know your face.
The curve of your nose would call to me
and your eyelids would flutter under my touch.
There is no one else, no one at all
who could make the pads of my fingers
see the entire world.”
He gazed up at you with a starstruck expression. “Is this about anyone in particular?” Neil leaned forward and dipped his head down to rest on his propped-up hand. He had a grin on his face. He absolutely knew who it was about.
“I wrote that one for Meeks. He’s just so cute, don’t you think?” You teased. Neil’s mouth dropped open as his expression turned to comical shock. 
“I’m wounded, my love! How dare you.” He shouted, throwing his arms up. You started laughing as he continued his theatrical expressions, much to the dismay of the café workers.
“Be careful, we might get thrown out!”
“I’ll throw you out myself if you don’t stop laughing at my demise.” He furrowed his eyebrows and scrunched his nose as you giggled from your seat. “I’m so lucky to have you.” He murmured, suddenly as soft as a spring rain. You ran your fingers over his hand underneath the table, finding every groove like it was your own.
“And I’m lucky to have you. I love you, you know.” 
Neil smiled gently. “I love you too. So much.”
You sat in that café for a few hours more, until the workers had to politely remind you of their closing hours. You laughed and talked and felt the sheer joy of being with the boy you had begun to consider your soulmate. He was a star, shining his light and illuminating you with his rays. Too often, however, the brightest lights fade within the snap of a finger.
“I hope that when I die,” Neil wrote, right before your thirty-first meeting,
“God will send me back to Earth.
He will say,
‘Live again. Run again,
hope again,
plunge your body into ice-cold water again. 
Hate again, 
and cry again,
run your fingers through the grass again.
Kiss them again, 
press your palms to their faces again,
and lose them again.
Let yourself feel again,
and never forget
that life is what matters, 
not death.’
And I will say,
‘I promise
to do everything I have ever told myself I could not do
again and again and again.’”
He closed his journal with a thump and tucked it into his drawer calmly. That was something he would rather not share with anyone, not even you. 
The day was cold and drizzly, but he stood up with a kind of manic smile. He walked out of the doors of Welton and into your awaiting arms.
You both sat down on a park bench under the cover of a tree. Your seats were slightly wet and very cold, but it didn’t matter all that much. You were just glad to be there with him, with Neil. He was the love of your life, and any time with him was well-spent.
“What are you thinking about?” You asked softly. He was the same as he always was, you thought. But his eyes were welling up with tears and you just felt the need to ask, like some unearthly force was telling you that you needed to.
He leaned back, putting his arm around the back of the bench with a sigh. “I’m trapped.” He was smiling, but there was such an utter lack of humor behind it that it made you shiver. You shifted closer to him, leaning your head on his shoulder as a silent sign of comfort. By this point, knew everything there was to know about Neil Perry- even the parts he tried to keep hidden.
“How so?”
“I don’t even know, I just… I want to be an actor. That is what I want to do for the rest of my life. But I can’t, and I’m trapped, and no one can help me, no matter how much they try.” His voice was sullen, but he was still smiling. Curse him for trying to make you feel better even then.
You placed a kiss on the back of his hand and threaded your fingers through his. Your heart ached for him. You knew there was nothing you could do about it, though, and that’s what made it even harder. Holding his hand, telling him it’ll all work out, everything ultimately did nothing for his situation, and you cursed the being that forced him into this position. If you could scream into the night, into the big, black sky to execrate the universe, you would. You did, in the future. You regretted not doing it sooner.
“I’m sorry.” You started, squeezing his hand. “ Just keep going, alright? I promise you, in the future, none of this will matter at all. You just have to stick with it. The world will find a way of figuring it out.”
His face formed a more genuine smile as he laid his head on top of yours. “Yeah. I guess it will.”
The last time Neil Perry saw you was the night he had been anticipating, dreaming about, and dreading: the night of his play. He was prepared. He knew every line and cue by heart, and yet he was still nervous. He was so nervous he could hardly think. 
He stood behind the curtains listening to the chatter of the audience. The rest of the cast members and some of the technicians were scrambling to put everything in place, but he just stared at the dark walls of fabric separating him from his new life. That was it. He was going to put on the best performance of his goddamn life.
The lights dimmed, and he stepped away to take his place.
When it was finally time for him to make his entrance, Neil did it with flourish. “How now, spirit! whither wander you?” He spoke. Cheers came from the audience, whoops and hollers from the dead poets. He could hardly keep himself from smiling.
Then, he saw you. You were grinning wide and large from your seat, giving him that quiet encouragement he had always loved. You whispered his name, and Neil could hear it in his heart.
He was having fun. So much fun. With every line he spoke, with every movement he made, Neil was sinking deeper and deeper into the play and his love for acting. He didn’t remember the last time he had ever felt that alive. 
But with every sinking, there comes a point where one drowns.
His father was there. When had he come? Neil hadn’t seen him before. God. He was burning a hole in the back of his head with his piercing gaze, and it took everything in Neil not to turn and run. That was it, he thought. He was done. But gods be good, he was going to finish his play. He would not let his father ruin this for him.
By the time he was speaking his last lines, the ones he had practiced with you, he barely remembered his father was part of the audience. The curtains closed, and the audience exploded into cheers. He could hear your voice, he swore he could- he was the happiest man on Earth. He had put on the performance of his lifetime, and he couldn’t be more proud. Until, of course, he was dragged out the door by his father.
He was back home before he had even registered his father’s anger. All he could feel was emptiness as the gnawing hole in his stomach expanded to encompass his entire being.
“We're trying very hard to understand why it is that you insist on defying us. Whatever the reason, we're not gonna let you ruin your life. Tomorrow I'm withdrawing you from Welton and enrolling you in Braden Military School. You're going to Harvard and you're gonna be a doctor.” His father stated, eyes sharp. Neil let out a noise of protest.
“But that's ten more years. Father, that's a lifetime! I won’t be able to see any of them again, not one person I knew before. You can’t do this to me, you just can’t.” Tears formed in Neil’s eyes, and as he looked at his mother, she was feeling the same way. And yet she said nothing. He could feel himself becoming increasingly more desperate. 
His father scoffed. “Oh, stop it. Don't be so dramatic. You make it sound like a prison term. You don't understand, Neil. You have opportunities that I never even dreamt of and I am not going to let you waste them.”
Neil rose to his feet, suddenly angry. He needed to fight for this, for himself. He couldn’t just let one man take away everything he had ever loved. If he couldn’t see you, his friends, if he couldn’t act, there was no purpose in his life. “I've got to tell you what I feel.”
Neil’s mother reached for him. “We’ve been so worried about-“ 
“What? What? Tell me what you feel. What is it? Is it more of this, this acting business? Because you can forget that. What?” And just like that, it was gone. Neil sat back down, staring blankly at his lap. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do anything because he was just a stupid boy who wouldn’t listen. His father scoffed once again before leaving the room.
His mother, ever the soft one, paused.
“I was good. I was really good.” He whispered. She sighed, urging him to his feet. 
“Go on, get some sleep.”
Neil nodded, still in a trance, before trudging to his room. That was it. He was done. He would never see you again, no matter what, and it hurt him so badly he didn’t know what else to do. He ran his fingers over his things lightly before removing his shirt. That was it. He grasped his crown of twigs and placed it on his head, staring out through his open window. The cool air kissed his body sweetly, like your lips on a rainy day. He took a deep breath.
It was time for his last act, his curtain call, his final carpe diem. There was no warning, and yet there did not need to be one. That night, that cold, bitter night, he knew what he needed to do. 
The last time you saw Neil Perry, he didn’t see you. He couldn’t see you. It was December 18th, and you had been asked to read a poem at his funeral. 
God, the word “funeral” hit you like a train. Neil was dead. His sweet demeanor, his gentle words, his soft hair, they were all going to be covered in dirt within the next few hours. You couldn’t stand it. The world needed so much more of him, but terribly, horribly, the world did not deserve it. No one deserved him.
It was odd, you thought, how the sound of one gunshot could replay over and over again in your mind without you ever having heard it at all. The boom, the thud, the scream. It was all so clear in your mind.
As the priest spoke, you felt an emptiness pool in your guts. He was really gone. Your Neil, your poor Neil. You sat between Charlie and Todd, all three of your faces streaked with tears. You could feel more welling up in your eyes, and you let them free without a care. Neil was dead, and nothing else in the world mattered.
In a way, you couldn’t believe it. He was just here, warm and happy and yours. When you got that phone call, you almost joined him. Nothing was worth it anymore, nothing at all. The eulogies, the sobs, they faded into the background as you stared down at the ground.
Before you knew what was happening, you were standing at a podium with a piece of paper clutched between your shaking fingers. Neil’s mom looked up at you in silent support.
You took a breath, so much like the breaths you always took before reading a poem and yet so different. Neil could not hear this one.
“When you died,
the beetles still sang.
The trout still jumped,
and the earth still rumbled.
When you died, the moon still turned
and the stars still burned.
When you died,” Your voice cracked. Looking out into the audience, at people you didn’t know and people you knew so well you could identify them by a strand of their hair, it was too much. Hot tears slipped their way down your face as the pit in your stomach grew ever-wider. 
“The lakes still rippled 
and the trees still creaked
and I lowered you into the ground
and I cried so hard the world stopped moving.” 
There was a murmur throughout the audience, choked sobs and utters of agreement. “For Neil, who lived as he died and died as he lived.” You rasped.
You were quickly ushered away from the podium and back into your seat.
Neil was one in a million. There was no one else in the history of ever that could make you feel so amazing. Like you were a real person, like you mattered. He made everyone feel that way, but something in him burned for you in a way that you believed was unique. And, of course, you burned for him the same. 
The rest of the service went by in a blur. Everyone around you began to get up, and you knew it was time. As you sat there, still as a rock, when everyone went to say their final farewells, you were extinguished. 
You felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. When you looked up from your tear-soaked lap, Todd was there, and he clasped your hand. “Let’s go.” He whispered. “Let’s say goodbye.”
You pulled a page from the book by your feet and shoved it into your pocket. It was for him, it always was and it always had been.
“In some other universe, I found you again.
Maybe in this one we held hands, gently and honestly,
or leaned against each other’s shoulders on the train,
or sobbed against each other’s shirts when we crashed and burned,
because anything with you
means flying too close to the sun.” It read. 
As you stood in front of his casket, you could hardly bear to focus on his pale face.
He was cold, so cold. The embalmer had done well with his head, but there was so much that just looked off. He didn’t look like your Neil. He looked empty. You gripped his hand and brushed a lock of hair away from his eyes. It was winter, and he was colder and paler than the snow.
You held him far longer than what was deemed socially acceptable before tucking the page into his lapel and swiftly walking away.
You weren’t there for his burial, and you knew you couldn’t be. It was just too much. If you had seen his casket close, if you had watched them shovel dirt on top of the wooden box, you would’ve dropped to your knees and screamed. Much like you’re doing now.
You sat on that same old park bench, knees clutched up to your soaked chest, sobbing harder than you ever had before. Your Neil was gone and you could never see him again, not ever.
When you saw Neil Perry for the last time, and god, did you see him, you knew nothing would ever be the same again.
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Goodnight Kisses
Prompt: a conversation I had with @cowboylexapro :)
Ship: Anderperry
Neil always gets home late from the theatre.
More often than not, Todd is already fast asleep by the time Neil arrives back to their shared apartment.
Neil isn’t thrilled about that. He wants every second he can get with Todd.
So every night, Neil quietly moves through the apartment, taking great care not to wake Todd.
He gets comfortable in his pajamas, brushes his teeth, and tiptoes to the bed.
Once he has eased himself under the covers, pausing every time Todd so much as breathed different, Neil made sure to press a kiss to Todd’s temple.
“I love you, Toddie”, Neil whispered. “Sleep well.”
After those final words of comfort, Neil wraps an arm around Todd’s waist, sighing contently as the soothing sounds of Todd’s breaths lulled him to sleep.
Todd never knew that Neil did this little romantic gesture.
It wasn’t until he was feigning sleep one night, trying to fight his insomnia, that he felt Neil’s lips press gently against his hair.
“I hope you’re having a wonderful dream,” Neil whispered. “I love you.”
Todd had the best sleep of his life that night.
The nighttime kisses were one of the little luxuries in Todd’s life. There was never a doubt in his mind that he was loved.
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gayfandomnerd225 · 2 months
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I love dps chatfics so much. They’re so unhinged and Charlie flirts with everyone. It’s awesome. It makes me want to write a dps chatfic. Should I?
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ash5monster01 · 4 months
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hii!! could you write something for charlie dalton and an insecure reader (they are already dating)? ive been feeling kind of ugly lately😭😭 tysm
I’m so sorry this has taken me so long, I hope everything has been going okay. Insecurities can really suck sometimes, but we just have to remember we’re all beautiful in our own way <3
Perfectly Me
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Pairing: Charlie Dalton x FemReader
Warnings: fluff, self doubt, insecurities, anxiety
Summary: Dating cool and confident Charlie is proven to be hard when most of the time you’re insecure about everything about yourself.
word count: 1.1k
Masterlist
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Charlie had always been Charlie. You weren’t entirely sure where he got it from. Somehow after all these years in boarding school he had found a confidence that set him apart from the others. You had never met anyone else that had lived life with their chin so high and smile so wide. He was confident, fun, popular, and you felt everything but. When he had chosen you it was shocking. How could daring and brave Charlie seek out the only girl that kept her head ducked and mouth shut. Yet somehow he did and everyday since you had been questioning why.
Especially on days like today. Days where Charlie’s laugh bellowed loudly through the lunch room as you sat quiet as a mouse beside him. Girls looked on with adoring looks and boys laughed after every sentence that left his mouth. His presence was large, everyone saw him, everyone liked him. It was so intense that as you sat beside the boy you loved you felt more invisible then ever, especially to him. He didn’t see you, there is no way he could have. You were nothing but an inanimate object beside him and you had only ended up in this position from a cruel trick of fate. Not only were you now invisible but humiliated because you couldn’t compare to him. You never could.
When the bell sounds you’re the first out the door. You didn’t want to wait and see if Charlie even acknowledged you, it would hurt too much if he didn’t. You barely went noticed as you left anyway so it would be no surprise if he didn’t notice either. But he did. His proud look turning into one of confusion as he spotted your form rushing away. He had wanted to kiss you, stare into your pretty eyes for a moment longer, but you were gone in the blink of an eye. He wondered why, it almost feeling like you were trying to escape him. This very thought plagued him the rest of the day as he awaited a moment to see you again.
Once classes were over it took him forever to find you. He felt like he had turned Welton upside down in search of you until he finally found you curled up on a window seat in the library. Your eyes were cast downward at the book in your hands, your forehead pressed against the cool glass of the window where you sat. You were so beautiful and his heart yearned deeply for you in that very moment. He wished you didn’t feel so far away. He just wanted you two to be okay. As much as he talked about always having a girlfriend he never thought he’d be lucky enough to have one, especially you.
“Found you” you jump slightly at the sound of his husky voice. He’s lifting your feet and sliding beside you before you can react. He doesn’t make any notion that the window is cold against his back as he finally looks at you.
“I wasn’t hiding” you finally say, a bit nervous in his presence which you hated.
“Felt like it” the sad way he drops his gaze from you makes your heart clench. You hadn’t meant to hurt him but he had unintentionally been hurting you.
“I know” you whisper and Charlie looks up to see the sad expression you wear, one that matched his own.
“Can you tell me why?” he asks and you notice how small he seems here. He isn’t loud and proud Charlie, he’s your boyfriend who’s afraid you’re going to say something that hurts him and even worse you know what you have to say is going too.
“I don’t know why you’re with me Charlie” you say, officially closing your book and giving him your full attention.
“What do you mean?” he asks and you bring your hands to your face, sighing into them before looking up again.
“I’m not like you Charlie. You’re good looking, popular, outgoing. I’m just not” you say, exasperated and tired of not only being insecure about everything else in your life but about this too.
“Yes you are!” and this has you chuckling dryly, so tired of being lied to.
“No Charlie, I know it, you know it, and the rest of these imbeciles do too” you say, arms crossing over you chest and Charlie sighs as he presses a hand to his forehead.
“You are to me” he says calmly and you feel your heart rate accelerate at the confession. Charlie dares a glance at you to see your face flooded with sadness and confusion. He had never meant to make you feel small. “You’re the only girl for me. Maybe you’re not all that outgoing but that’s okay. I need someone who is going to bring me down to earth. I wanted to kiss my girlfriend today before she left after lunch and instead I watched her run away from me. I don’t try to make you feel worthless, I’m just so used to being loud and bold to hide the fact that I’m terrified my life won’t turn out the way I want it to. The only thing I’m sure of is you”
“Is that true?” you ask and Charlie chuckles even though none of this conversation is meant to be funny.
“It’s the most true thing I’ve said all week” he tells you and finally you take a good look at your doe eyed boyfriend. His floppy brown hair hangs in his eyes and the crooked smile on his face is still only ever directed at you. He loves you the way you love him, for all the things neither of you are. So you scoot forward and wrap your arms around his neck.
“I’m sorry I assumed the worst of you” you tell him and he gives you a tight lipped smile that you happily lean forward and kiss.
“I’m sorry I expected too much of you” Charlie apologizes in return and you smile before locking your lips with his own again. Pulling yourself closer to him your book slides from your lap and lands with a loud thud that has you both giggling quietly in the back corner of the library. Charlie doesn’t care about the attention it might’ve brought and kisses you good and hard again.
The best thing about Charlie is no matter how insecure you are, at least he will always be there for you. You balanced each other out and balance was the most important key to life. Balance love, balance work and art, and you shall be free.
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