#i want to have a professor like mr keating

[lamemaster]

Beginning of the End

Chapter 3: The Mortal and the Immortal

(Although you don't have to read previous chapters. I recommend that you do to follow the story correctly. Also Mr. Keating is my imagined Elros)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Summary: This Elros was more real than any vision or dream he had ever had. This was his brother whom he remembered from the very first moment of his conscience. A child who held the confidence to hold a dagger even at the blood-splattered Feanorians.

Pairing: Elrond & Elros

It was different. Unlike all the visions of the future, this was too concrete. The scene so clear as if it had been written in the past or was being written as he witnessed it.

While non-sensical or sometimes world-changing visions in form of dreams often came to Elrond, the amount of their occurrence had severely decreased ever since he had left the shores of Middle Earth. It was almost as if the visions had left after playing their part.

Yet, after so many ages they returned.

It had been an unsuspecting afternoon when Elrond had found his hroa weary and drowsy. He had not thought much of it. It was not uncommon for his half mannish heritage to present in such ways.

Professor Edward Richtofen the letters written on a wooden plank, in an unknown tongue that Elrond did not remember ever learning came to him. His eyes wander around the room.

In walks, a man with his face, and Elrond forgets to breathe, even in his dream. His brother…his twin. Elros walks in. His mannish ears with his greying hair. It’s Elros the son of Erandil and Elwing. His confident strut unchallenged like the past king of Nuemenor.

Professor Edward Richtofen held subtle signs of aging. Similar to that Elrond had seen on his brother’s face long ago.

“I hope you guys read the reading about the Rule of 9x that is due for discussion today. Can someone tell me about it?”

A woman seated in the front row of the rounded rows raises her hand accompanied by a few others. Elrond observes as Elros now Edward nods at her to speak.

“Consumers value their possessions 3 times more than their true market value whereas producers value their products 3 times more than their actual value. This causes a disparity between consumers and marketers which in turn leads to a flawed marketing strategy.” The woman answered with a firm tone without an inkling of doubt. From the expression on his twin’s face, Elrond was sure the answer was correct. They both had once been pupils, they had taught many, and overlooked several being taught.

“You are absolutely correct miss Charlotte. However, does anyone here wonder what makes us value what we own? The human psychology that goes into this entire process.” Switching the lit panels called slides (Elrond has no idea how he knew that) his brother continues as he strolls around his desk.

“The tendency to value our possessions originates from primal times when men had very little to themselves. The attachment to personal property was born out of a small evolutionary uplift that has empowered us for so long. It is this want that led to the building of homes from caves and tools from stones.”

Possession of immortality and mortality that had estranged both twins. Somehow they both grew attached to their nature. One chose eternal life while the other chose a fate of mysterious origin. But now as Elrond gazes at his twin’s face as he lectures his students, the elf can’t help but agree. Indeed their attachment led to a better world.

A world that demanded sacrifices but yielded peace for both the elves and the men in different spheres of Arda.

Elrond almost startles out of his daze when he hears a sudden movement. A woman scurries out of the room even as his brother continues teaching the basics of trade that had evolved in Middle Earth.

His brother, whose eyes glimmered with excitement whenever a student raised their hand with a question. Elros who dwelled deep into the processes and science behind even the most basic things.

This Elros was more real than any vision or dream he had ever had. This was his brother whom he remembered from the very first moment of his conscience. A child who held the confidence to hold a dagger even at the blood-splattered Feanorians.

The class ends as students rush out of the hall. Elros chats with a few students who now gather around him.

By the end of the class, Elrond follows his brother as Elros makes his way through crowded corridors. Mannish settlements had truly changed a lot and for good. Though they did not hold the splendor of Nuemenor that his brother built, it was still a worthy improvement.

Entering what seems to be a decent chamber, lit by lights unseen before, Elros deposits his books in a neat pile on his table. His room was simple but lavish with minimal furniture. Decorated with various maps and loaded with overflowing books it reeks of his brother’s personality.

A small corner full of mugs and pictures framed on the wall attracts Elrond’s attention. There he finds uncannily similar photos of his niece and his sister-in-law smiling at him. His brother stands next to them with a satisfied smile. A happy family. There are other children, ones his brother did not have in his previous life. Another son who shares features similar to Elohir, who now resides in Valinor. And in the end his eyes land on, the third child. The youngest, his Arwen stares back at him from the frame.

Elrond stares unblinking even in his dream. His daughter…lost to time. Only to find her here. He reaches out to touch the cold hard glass of the frame. ‘Forgive me,’ he whispers. For ages, he has asked for forgiveness for a loss he could not have avoided.

However, Arwen smiles in the frame. Hugged by her uncle, now her father. She looks pleased even devoid of her elven light and immortality. Despite tales of her happiness, Elrond found little solace. How could he when he had witnessed the pain his daughter was destined to face by the end of everything? Elrond’s daughter now barely in her teen-

The noise of paper ripping snaps Elrond out of his stupor. On the other side of the room, he sees his brother holding a package as he rips it open. A yellow package with something heavy contained in it.

A book. Two heavily bound books fall out of the paper bag as his brother tries to arrange them. One of the two, in particular, stands out with its cover purple with silver embellishments on its edges.

“What is this?” Elros mutters as he flips the book to read it better.

The next words shock Elrond to the core. “The Silmarillion.” Elros reads without a miss in his pronunciation. Perfect Quenya taught by their foster fathers remains untouched even through rebirth.

The other book bound with red, which he had seen long ago, glares challengingly at Elrond as he finally finds his bearings to read them with whatever bond he still carried with his brother. The red book was written by his long-lost friend Bilbo.

The Silmarillion and the Red Book of Westmarch.

Histories of Middle-Earth rested in his twin’s hands. Their past and their truth.

Arda was changing yet again and this time the change felt closer than ever. More permanent than ever.

In the Blessed, Lands Elrond wakes up more determined than ever in the longest time. The weariness of ages was replaced by a striking determination in the eyes of the former Lord of Rivendell.

#the silmarillion #tolkien #noldor elves #elves #tolkien elves #elrond peredhel #elrond #elros #elros tar minyatur #elrond and elros #mystery #arwen evenstar #middle earth #lotr

[princessconsuelafr]

Oh, to have a professor like Mr. Keating. To make me want to suck the marrow out of life. To telling me that words and ideas can change the world. To make me wonder what will my verse be.

i just want to be like him tbh.

#dark academia #dead poets society #writers on tumblr #poets on tumblr #aesthetic #movies #dark academia books #dead poets headcanons #dark academia aesthetic #mr keating

[nuwanda-speaks]

how many of yall would trade your teachers for Professor Keating?

#dont be shy raise your hands i see you #i want to have a professor like mr keating #dps #dead poets society #charlie dalton #neil perry #todd anderson #nuwanda-speaks #richard cameron #steven meeks #knox overstreet #gerard pitts

[octaviasdread]

any girls! dark academia movie recs? i really struggle to find anything not about a group of boys (as much as I love them)

SO MANY!!! This is probably a far more detailed answer than you were expecting but this is a popular question and I want to keep a list for myself and others.

Feel free to add to it/give opinions. I've tried to give a tw for anything I can remember

Girls! Dark Academia Movies/TV Shows

Mona Lisa Smile (2003)

1950s Women’s college

Art professor! Julia Roberts

She’s legit the female Mr Keating of the art & college world

Feminism vs. Tradition

Maggie Gyllenhall x Ginnifer Goodwin; their characters were more than friends. Fight me.

Does not end how you expect

Strike!/All I Wanna Do/The Hairy Bird (1998)

MY FAVOURITE!!!

Free on YouTube under one of its various names

Comedy

1960s all girls boarding school

Young Kirsten Dunst

Group of girls plot to sabotage a merger with a boys school less prestigious than their own

Secret attic clubhouse meetings of the D.A.R aka Daughters of the American Ravioli (eaten cold, ew)

girls get political & advocate for their rights using ANY elaborate and chaotic scheme

TW: eating disorder, vomiting & creepy male teacher but the girls plot against him too

The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie (1969)

based on a short book I read for uni by Muriel Spark

1930s girls school in Edinburgh

Scottish teacher! Maggie Smith, controversial with a focus on romantic ideals

Spoiler alert, the liberal teacher is actually a fascist

Her group of fave students has cult- vibes and it’s fascinating

Picnic at Hanging Rock

1970s movie or 2018 mini series

Never watched either but I plan to

Wild Child (2008)

00s romcom every UK teen girl loves

Emma Roberts as the spoiled rich American teenager sent to a strict English boarding school

Plots to get herself expelled but oh no she’s making friends with the girls who help her

And the headmistress has a hot son, and he’s nice??? Double oh no

ICONIC SCENES

Everything! Goes! Wrong!

omg she burns the school down

Feel good, comfort, nostalgia

St Trinians (2007)

English girls boarding school

The kids are all criminals, no joke

So are the teachers

CHAOTIC

gay awakening for british girls

Art heist pulled off by school girls

Government tries to shut them down but oh no, the education minister & the headmistress are ex-lovers

Colin Firth x Rupert Everett in drag

Superior cast: Jodie Whittaker, Gemma Arterton, Juno Temple, Stephen Fry, Colin Firth, etc...

embodies the phrase 'problematic fave'

St Trinians 2: The Legend of Fritton’s Gold (2009)

Mystery, pirate ancestors, hidden treasure

omg Shakespeare was a woman

girls disguised as boys to infiltrate and rob the posh boys school

Villain! David Tennant in that ICONIC boat scene

Teen girls vs. ancient misogynist brotherhood

like the first film but MORE chaotic and BETTER!???

The Falling (2014)

1960s all girls school

best friends! but its unrequited love

Agoraphobic + distant mother aka mommy issues

Sudden death and the school suppresses/ignores the students grief, sparking mass hysteria & a fainting epidemic in the girls

Cast: Maisie Williams (GoT) & Florence Pugh (Little Women) & Joe Cole (Peaky Blinders)

TW: teen pregnancy, death, vomiting, underage s*x, sibling inc*st, past s*xual assault

READ THE PLOT SUMMARY FIRST

The Book Thief (2013)

Based on an amazing book by Markus Zusak

set in 1940s Nazi Germany

Daughter of a communist whose family were taken by the Nazis/died is fostered by an older couple who teach her to read & she paints a dictionary on the basement walls

Coming of age story about a compulsive book thief. No joke, this kid steals books from banned book burnings and breaks into the mayor's library through the window

Family hides the Jewish son of an old friend in their basement and he helps her to start writing about her experiences in the war

TW: death, bombings, WW2 anti-semitism

Mary Shelley (2017)

Overall good & roughly biographical

Pretty costumes and aesthetic

Modern feminist take on Mary Shelly in her own time period

So many INACCURACIES for the drama so don’t take it as truth

Percy Shelley slander and not all of it is justified

Cast: Elle Fanning, Douglas Booth, and Maisie Williams

The Secret Garden (1993)

Based on a fave childhood book

1901 colonial India & Yorkshire, England

Orphaned, spoilt & neglected girl sent to live with her reclusive Uncle in the English countryside

Gothic elements, mysteries, secret doors/passages/locked gardens

local boy with a flock of animals, magic, kids chanting around a fire and all around immaculate vibes

Happy ending!!!

Hidden Figures (2016)

African-American women as mathematicians for NASA

1960s space project

Women balancing a career and family obligations

Deals with racial & gender discrimination

Loosely based on the lives of Katherine Johnson, Mary Jackson, and Dorothy Vaughan who worked for NASA as engineers & mathematicians

Anne of Green Gables (1985) & sequel (1987)

Adaptation L.M. Montgomery’s ‘Anne of Green Gables’ books

Canada (late 1890s/early 1900s)

Highly imaginative & bookworm orphan is adopted by a reclusive elderly brother and sister duo

Small town & school years comedic drama

Unrequited Enemies -> Friends -> lovers

Inspiring new woman teacher

Girls re-enact Tennyson’s poem and nearly drown for the aesthetic™

Dramatic poetry reading with INTENSE 👀eye contact👀

Writer! Anne & English teacher! Anne dealing with unruly girls school antics

Collette (2018)

biographical drama on french writer Sidonie-Gabrielle Collette

Victorian & Edwardian era France

More talented than her husband so she ghostwrites for him

Fight for creative ownership of her wildly successful novels

Affairs with a woman called Georgie and also with Missy, born female but masculine presenting

Cast: Keira Knightly, Dominic West, Eleanor Tomlinson (Poldark)

Enola Holmes (2020)

Netflix book adaptation

Younger sister of Sherlock Holmes

Victorian era! feminism/suffragettes

Mother-daughter focus

Mystery, adventure, secret codes, teens running away & escaping from (and eventually fighting) assassins

Cast: Helena Bonham Carter, Henry Cavill, Sam Claflin, Fiona Shaw, Millie Bobby Brown

Ginger & Rosa (2012)

1960s England

best friends since literal birth navigating troubled teen years

poet & anti-nuclear activist! Ginger

off the rails but also catholic! Rosa

Shout out to Mark & Mark the gay godfathers we all want

family troubles 

TW: older man has an affair with a 17 yr old

Testament of Youth (2014)

based on WW1 memoir by Vera Brittain

young woman (writer & poetry lover) escapes traditional family & goes to study at Oxford University

abandons to become a war nurse

romance, tragedy and war trauma

Cast: Alicia Vikander, Kit Harrington (GoT), Taron Edgerton (Rocketman), Colin Morgan (Merlin)

Little Women (2019)

Writer! Jo & Artist! Amy

Mother/daughter focus and sister dynamics

the March sisters’ theatre club is *chefs kiss*

champagne problems edits of Jo x Laurie are a mood

Ambivalent ending perfectly captures Louisa May Alcott’s dilemma with the book the movie is based on

set in 1860s America

ALL STAR CAST and a Greta Gerwig masterpeice

Lady Bird (2017)

coming of age in early 2002/2003 Sacramento, California

all girls catholic school

writer! Christine aka Lady Bird wants to get outta town and start her life again at college 'in a city with culture'

Mother/daughter dynamics - so realistic!

I live for that Jesus car stunt & the nun's reaction

school theatre program

Cast: Saoirse Ronan, Timothee Chalamet, Beanie Feldstein

Another Greta Gerwig gem

Beguiled (2017)

Virginia, civil war era

Girls school with only five students and two teachers left

Find an injured Union army soldier & bring him inside

Women & teenagers want his attention (v. problematic) before uniting against him

(tbh you'll either love it, hate it, or watch once & forget it)

Sofia Coppola film so its very feminine gaze

TW: violence, death, underage

Legally Blonde (2001)

No questions will be taken

Elle Woods was the blue print

TV series:

House of Anubis (2011-2013)

I know it’s a kids/young teen show but I still unironically love it

ANCIENT EGYPT!!!!

Modern day with Victorian era links to treasure hunters & Egyptian research expeditions (stealing from tombs)

Chosen one plot lines, curses, kidnapping, mysteries, secret tunnels under the school, elixir of life

Teens have investigate & protect themselves cus oh no the TEACHERS are involved in some shady stuff

new American kid at British boarding school is the actual premise not just a fanfic au

Nostalgic, light-hearted, funny, and kinda cheesy but I will accept no criticism

The Alienist (2018 -now)

Mid 1890s, New York

Woman’s private detective agency (Season 2)

Serial killer mystery

Woman secretary turns detective and teams up with a criminal psychiatrist and a newspaper editor to solve crime

TW: violence, child pr*stit*tion

Cast: Dakota Fanning, Luke Evans, Daniel Bruhl

The Queen’s Gambit (2020)

Woman chess prodigy

1950s & 1960s

TW: drug & alcohol abuse

Gentleman Jack (2019 - now)

Based on the diaries of Anne Lister

Victorian Yorkshire, England

Upper-class lesbians

Confident, suit wearing! Anne Lister x shy! Ann Walker

Business woman! Anne running the family mines

Cast: Suranne Jones (Doctor Foster) & Sophie Rundle (Peaky Blinders)

TW: violence

Gilmore Girls (2000-2007)

bubbly/ambitious single mom + intelligent daughter

bookworm! Rory Gilmore gets into a prestigious private school and then an Ivy League college

Small town drama is comedic gold

Fast dialogue packed with pop culture and literary references

Comforting & nostalgic

TEAM JESS

Anne with an E (2017-2019)

Loose adaptation of L.M. Montgomery’s ‘Anne of Green Gables’ books

they completely change the plot lines but it’s still very good content!

Orphan girl with trauma and a love of books/poetry is adopted by an elderly brother & sister duo, bringing light and fresh ideas to a rural community

Feminism, girls writing club, lgbtq safe spaces, girls eduction, black/indigenous representation

Miss Stacy as THAT inspiring teacher

Aunt Josephine’s lavish gay parties have my heart

TW: creepy male teacher tries to marry a student, racial discrimination, indigenous assimilation school

Victoria (2016-2019)

Adaption of Queen Victoria’s life

Victoria navigating her political, royal, and personal life

Albert’s involvement with The Great Exhibition, 1851 (on cultural + industrial innovations)

Alfred Paget x Edward Drummond is exquisite

Gorgeous costumes and aesthetics

TW: bury your gays trope

Derry Girls (2018-now)

1990s Northern Ireland during the troubles

Comedy, episodes 20-25 mins long

English boy sent to an all girls Catholic school with his cousin

✨Dead Poets Society parody episode ✨with a free-spirited female teacher

Sister Michael, the sarcastic nun who hates her job & reads the exorcist for giggles

Wee anxious lesbian! Clare Devlin (plus her friends wearing rainbow pins)

Badass with bad ideas! Michelle Mallon

Main Character! Erin Quinn

Lovable weirdo who would fight a polar bear! Orla McCool

Wee English fella & honorary Derry girl! James Maguire

Dickinson (2019-now)

Loose adaption of the poet Emily Dickinson’s life

Set in 19th century Massachusetts, US

Historical drama with modern dialogue & music that works SEAMLESSLY

gives a great understanding of Emily Dickinson’s poems

💕Vintage gays! Emily x Sue💕

Theatre club, writing, poetry, dressing as men to sneak into lectures, love letters, teen drama, feminism, and an underground abolitionist journal as a brief side plot in season 2

Wiz Khalifa plays death in a horse drawn carriage

TW: opium use

A Series of Unfortunate Events (2017-2019)

Based on great childhood books

Bookworm! brother, Inventor! sister, and baby sister with sharp teeth

Mystery, secret organisations, orphaned siblings figuring things out & fending for themselves against the villain after their fortune

Adults either cartoon evil, comedically incompetent, or SPIES

Boarding school, library owner, scientific researcher, and theatre episodes

Ambiguous time period which is really fun to try and pin point

Killing Eve (2018-now)

Classic detective who has homoerotic tension with the assassin she is tracking down

British Detective! Eve Polastri figures out the notorious assassin MI5 are investigating is a woman, is fired & then put on a secret MI6 case with a small team

Assassin! Villanelle, a psychopath with a tragic past and a mastery of both accents & fashion

Woman MI6 boss! Carolyn Martens, head of Russian section

Travel Europe following Villanelle’s killings and escaping the assassins sent by Villanelle’s organisation

‘You’re supposed to be my enemy and moral opposite but omg you’re the only one smart enough to get me and why am I obsessed with you????'

🚨 GO IN FOR A KISS AND THEN STAB YOUR ENEMY 🚨

Cable Girls/Las chicas del cable (2017-2020)

Spanish drama set in 1920s Madrid

Four young women at a telecommunications company form a group of friends and help navigate the difficult situations they are all in

Secret identities, dangerous pasts, murder, crime, lgbtq couple & throuple, trans man character, feminism/suffragists

girls commit crimes for humanitarian reasons and cover! it! up!

UNDERRATED SHOW!!!!

Gorgeous costumes and set

Haven’t finished it yet and I’m catching up

TW: abuse, violence, death

Outlander (2014 - now)

haven’t watched yet but plan to

Woman time travels to Scotland, 1743

Rebel highlanders, pirates, British colonies, American revolutionary war

Time jumps between 18th & 20th century

#CO posts #answered asks #asks #dark academia girls #dark academia recommendations #dark academia recs #dark academia women #dark academia movies #dark academia tv

[theluminoussunflower]

montpelier

tw: mention of neil's suicide

cw: one (1) suggestive moment, seriously blink and you'll miss it

amelia and todd leave welton early saturday morning, packed for one night, to leave whit's sunday evening

whit's house isn't isolated per se, but he lives in a spread out neighborhood

wealthy, you could say

he came from pretty big money and adding that with his professor money, he had a lovely three-bedroom house on appletree bay

though the appliances are up to date, the decor and overall feel of the house is rather... welton-like

lots of neutral colors, probably thousands of books

designed for comfort instead of viewing

good for family and stuff

even though todd and amelia usually stayed for the summer, amelia always calls it 'home'

all her stuff that isn't at welton is there

it's where she wants to be when all her friends are at 'home'

she has her own room that whit (allegedly) doesn't let anyone else sleep in

why can't it be home?

it's a lovely house, owned by a lovely man

when todd and amelia arrive, whit waits on the front porch for them

amelia leaps into his arms, leaving todd to get their bags from the trunk

"it's so good to see you," whit says letting her on the ground

the smell of freshly baked snickerdoodles tickles amelia's nose, and she runs into the house

"i told you she missed you," todd says dropping their bags onto the porch

whit hugs and kisses todd and says, "she misses my baking"

"ew!" amelia shouts through the living room window "get a room, you two!"

anyway

amelia and todd settle in their respective spaces

todd and whit usually share a bed, unless todd is snoring too loud and whit has to retreat to the guest bedroom

amelia's room is cozy, a room not much bigger than a welton dorm

but at least she doesn't have to share

while todd is unpacking upstairs, whit and amelia sit in the kitchen, on their fourth fifth sixth respective snickerdoodle

"so," whit says low, "you wanna tell me what this is all about now?"

"you can't tell my dad," amelia says "he'll ask all sorts of questions and i'll probably get my friends in trouble"

"well, i can't make promises," whit says, "if i think you're about to do something stupid, i either have to stop you or get your dad to stop you"

"define stupid"

"amelia..."

she quickly explains what had been going on with her, between neil and the dead poets society, and how her teachers are somehow involved, and how she wants to talk to mr keating about it

whit doesn't say a word throughout the whole thing

deep down, he knows he should tell todd about this, so he could be the one to explain himself

but he also knows that todd doesn't like talking about it

he barely talks about it with whit, and they talk about everything together

"don't you think you could get the answer out of your dad?" whit asks eventually, "if he let you in the club—"

"he doesn't know the club still exists"

"you said he gave you the book though?"

"yeah, but he doesn't know that we run off into the woods and read out of it"

whit falls quiet again

what's so wrong with that?

"how far is mr keating?"

"he's in montpelier, an hour or so"

"and you'd be back before your dad woke up?"

"that's the plan"

whit reaches into his pocket and drops his car keys on the counter "crash my car or get caught, you're dead"

"i know, and i'll leave you out of it, i swear"

"i hope you find what you're looking for"

"what are we looking for?" todd asks appearing out of nowhere

"the... thing," amelia says, convincingly (read: not convincingly)

"the thing" todd repeats

whit nods in agreement

anyway

the three had a nice saturday

todd got to put his feet up for the first time in a while

no panic attacks here folks!

amelia spoke with the elderly neighbors she had become acquainted with over the last few summers

they still think she's twelve, even though she met them when she was thirteen

and whit got to talk to someone that wasn't his bedroom wall

everyone wins!

that night, after dinner, the trio got into a very intense uno game

"YOU DIDN'T CALL UNO!"

"YOU DIDN'T GIVE ME ENOUGH TIME TO!!!"

"are you colorblind? i'm serious todd, are you colorblind?"

"two is not seven, amelia"

"i can't believe you teach vermont's brightest students the way you don't know the difference between a skip and a reverse"

"reverse and UNO"

"not for long"

slams down a draw four

it's wild

but amelia has a plan to start

so after dominating the uno game, she says "i think i'm gonna turn in"

"lame," todd says under his breath, "it's only nine, what are you resting for?"

"my health???" amelia answers "you guys can keep playing"

"nah, i'm folding," whit says gathering all the cards, "i'm turning in too"

so the trio get ready for bed, amelia in her bathroom, todd and whit in theirs

before getting into bed, todd pokes his head into amelia's bedroom

amelia appears to be sound asleep in her bed

"is she—oh she's asleep" whit says as comes up behind todd, looking into amelia's room as well

todd shuts her door, leaving it slightly open, unintentionally helping her eventually sneak out of the house

"i think welton's worn her out a bit," whit says as him and todd walk back to their bedroom

"i don't know if it's a good or a bad thing," todd got into bed "she's going to bed at a reasonable time, but at what cost?"

"amelia's smart, i'm sure she's doing all right," whit says

he props himself against the headboard and holds todd to his chest

"i thought so," todd muttered, "i don't know, i feel like she's taking on a lot... maybe too much, and i don't think i'm there for her the way i want to be"

"she might just be becoming more independent," whit says with a shrug "or maybe she's getting help from her friends, she's got plenty of those, right?"

"yeah i guess..."

"todd, what's wrong?"

"nothing"

"todd"

funny thing about whit: even though he doesn't have kids (except amelia, of course), he has an excellent Mom Voice

"i don't know, it's..." todd stutters, he hates when he stutters "yeah, she's just growing up, but... i'm not doing a very good job of letting her go, i feel like i just got her back, yknow?"

"what are you talking about? you never lost her"

"no, but we're at the same school now, i see her all the time, i don't know, i just thought it would be different"

whit thinks for a moment before speaking "she's not a little kid anymore, but she'll always need her dad, and you'll always need her"

"i can't believe how grown up she is," todd moves his head to look at whit "you know she wanted to come here by herself"

and whit knows now would be a bad time to tell todd that she had been coming to his house alone for, like, three years, so he just says, "she might be growing up, but she's not an adult yet"

"yet," todd scoffs and settles his head back onto whit's chest "i don't know, i shouldn't be thinking like this"

"don't beat yourself up, hon, i'm sure every parent with a kid at that school is going through the same thing, ask cameron"

"i'd rather wake up and still be a student at welton than talk to cameron about parenting"

whit laughs, moves down the headboard a bit, and closes his eyes, his arm still around todd's shoulders

"i just don't want her hiding anything from me," todd says

"she's a teenage girl, of course she's hiding stuff from you"

todd narrows his eyes and looks at whit again

with a smirk, he asks "do you know something i don't?"

whit cocks an eyebrow "you'll have to force it out of me"

todd lays back on the bed and turns off the bedside lamp "i'm too tired for that, night" though, he says it comically, rather than seriously

whit laughs and scrambles to grab todd by the waist and hold him close

aw, wasn't that cute?

well moving on

amelia waits about an hour until she sneaks out

she wants to make sure her dad was asleep before turning on a loud ass car and driving through a silent neighborhood

when she passes her dads’ bedroom, both of them are asleep, arms around one another

she tiptoes downstairs, through the front door (locking it behind her), to whit’s car, and gets in

sitting in the front seat, she looks at the house and the bay in front of it

this life that whit leads is a million miles away from her life at welton

the free rein of harmlessly sneaking out

allowed to wear what she wants, allowed to eat as she pleases, allowed to do what she wants when she wants

welton is not the rest of the world

it exists in a bubble stuck in a time that no longer thrives in the real world

where women are submissive, meant to aid and attend to the men in their lives

and where men are too strong for their own good, and cannot stoop to the levels of emotion, romance, and gratitude

the weakness that keeps women out of the clouds

and yet, driving through the still neighborhood whit lives in, through burlington, and to the highway, amelia takes none of welton with her

she does not know everything, and she never will

but welton’s promise of excellence is thin

amelia is excellent in whit’s house, in burlington, on the highway to mr keating’s house, the green mountains of vermont

and she is nothing but miss anderson, daughter of todd anderson, on the grounds of welton

the drive is lonely and dark

montpelier is the next shred of light

amelia finds mr keating’s house in a crowded, suburban neighborhood on the outskirts of the center of the town

the light is on the living room, as is the front porch light, inviting amelia in from the pitch dark of the rest of the neighborhood

despite the rest of the world asleep, amelia tiptoes up the driveway and knocks as though a colic baby slept on the other side of the door

when the door opens, a short, round man stands behind it, eyes twinkling like stars, wrinkles like the roads on a map

he wears bunny slippers, old pajamas under a gray robe, and thin glasses

“my goodness, amelia anderson?” he says, breathless

“you must be john—i mean, mr keating,” amelia says

“you say it, therefore it’s true,” mr keating says, “forgive my gasping, but you look just as your mother did… although, you share your father’s hair color, and his slim face, i believe that is his coat”

“i hope you thought highly of my mom,” amelia says

mr keating frowns “i still do… well come in, you must be freezing!”

amelia instantly falls in love with mr keating’s house

it’s as thought whit’s home was miniaturized for a gremlin, cozy and warm, crowded by books and flickering candles

“do you live alone?” amelia asks hanging her coat

mr keating shakes his head “my wife is asleep upstairs, don’t worry, she’s a very heavy sleeper, have a seat miss anderson” he motions to his couch

“call me amelia, please, miss anderson is for my teachers”

“in that case, have a seat, amelia”

and amelia sits as mr keating pours tea from a kettle

“do you drink tea?” mr keating asks

amelia shakes her head

“neither did your mother”

yeah, i know?

she doesn’t say that though, “water will suffice”

suffice, when do i use words like suffice?

mr keating brings amelia her water, along with his tea, and sits in the armchair facing the couch

he asks her about welton, about her dad, about her friends

he smiles hearing her friends names

“i’ve heard nothing but good things about your father as a teacher,” mr keating says, “do you enjoy his class?”

“i enjoy my father, and i enjoy poetry, i enjoy my father’s poetry, and i believe no one could teach me poetry better than him,” amelia says, “he and mr dalton are the only teachers who i feel like respect my voice, the rest try to shut me out, submit me”

“how’s mr dalton doing?” mr keating says, seemingly ignoring what amelia just said

“he’s well, seems like he’s cleaned up his act since you last saw him at welton, like i said, i feel like he’s listening when i speak, i can only respect someone who equally respects me”

mr keating goes quiet, eyes on the floor as though the response is there waiting for him

“like, mr cameron respects me,” amelia continues “and i don’t love the guy, but when we speak, he doesn’t speak down to me, so i respect him”

mr keating looks at amelia “it’s because he’s afraid of you”

amelia laughs, but seeing as mr keating wasn’t laughing, asks “are you serious?”

“you stand a thousand feet tall, amelia,” he says, “you speak with a presidential voice, and your confidence would make a black bear tremble, cameron fears you”

amelia laughs still

“i know the way cameron is,” mr keating continues, “he wants to be in control, because he thinks evil power is best kept in great hands, rather than evil hands, what he fails to realize is that evil power is best kept six feet under”

amelia stares at mr keating, trying to understand the metaphor

“now, i’m not saying welton is inherently evil, because it’s not, nor are the people who run it, teach it, or attend it—”

“the school board pointed the finger at you,” amelia interrupts, “so unless you’re not innocent of what they say, then i have reason to believe evil bounces through the halls of welton, at the least the incapability to change”

“shall i tell you then, what happened after neil died?” mr keating asks, sadness flooding his aura

“i think i know what happened, i want to know why,” amelia says “the school said you made neil obsessed with the dead poets society, which led to his suicide, is that true?”

mr keating doesn’t say anything for a moment, he stands and paces around the sitting room “you know the idea that you can say something enough times and eventually believe it?”

amelia nods “dad said mr perry, neil’s father, pushed and pushed until neil snapped, that his pressure on neil made him feel like he didn’t have a choice, that he needed control of his life, so he ended it”

mr keating sighs “that’s a rather romantic idea of the suicide of a child, that neil gained his control, at what cost?”

“that’s why i’m asking you,” amelia says, “i think you’re smart enough to tell me what happened”

mr keating turns around with narrowed eyes at amelia “i said it was romantic, i didn’t say it was wrong”

“so, what the school board said, it was wrong, you didn’t force the society on neil, he wasn’t obsessed?”

“perhaps not,” mr keating says with a sigh “but would have neil taken his life without my presence?”

“if what i know is true, it would have been earlier,” amelia says “but this idea that neil was obsessed with the dead poets society… all of the other members said it was true, except mr dalton, why?”

“they didn’t have a choice,” mr keating says, sitting again “they were children being asked why their friend is dead, what else would they say?”

“the truth”

“the truth got mr dalton expelled, or rather the denial of a lie, i don’t blame your father or any of his friends for what happened to me”

amelia and mr keating are quiet again, both intaking the others ideas

“not even mr cameron?” amelia says looking up

mr keating doesn’t answer

“just knowing about neil tortures me, mr keating” amelia says after a long silence “his damn portrait in the english hall reminds me of someone i don’t know… why would my dad ever want to walk the halls he walked with neil? why would mr dalton returned to the school that took his friend? why does mr cameron memorialize neil, yet control the same school that ruined neil’s life?”

“i wish i could tell you, amelia” mr keating says “just the thought of going back sends shivers down my spine, i don’t know how they do it, less so why”

“do they think they can change it?” amelia wonders aloud, “welton, that is”

“they may have”

amelia shake her head “welton has not changed, and my dad is naive in thinking he could be the change”

“don’t you think he’s affected his students in some way?” mr keating asks “do you believe that just because he can’t single handedly change the culture of welton that it’s not worth trying?”

“i didn’t say that—“

“that’s what it sounded like”

“no, i just mean… if you go to welton, you come from a certain kind of family, most who have to go to ivy league universities and get thriving jobs in boring work, we don’t get to choose our classes, our teachers, our extracurriculars, our roommates, nothing! our lives are planned here, what if i don’t want the life planned for me?”

“then you shall take the road less traveled by”

amelia frowns “that the best you can do?”

mr keating shrugs “your father did, i believe mr cameron did, i believe mr dalton is now… you deserve the life you want, but you have to need it to get it… and perhaps mr overstreet and mr pitts have the life they wanted and needed, even if it’s not being a best selling author, or brilliant teacher”

“yeah, except that mr pitts probably wishes the left half of his body worked correctly”

“that’s besides the point, although you are correct,” mr keating says with a chuckle

“but then i worry that the road is the same as my dad’s, and he was successful, but he was also original, and i fear i’ll be neither, and what do i do then? it makes me think i should submit, stop the dead poets society, and become what i was destined to be”

“that is?”

“a housewife”

“that’s noble work, amelia”

“i don’t deny it, but it’s not what i want”

mr keating is quiet “don’t stop the dead poets society, give your friends something to choose”

amelia doesn’t stay much longer, still feeling as though she was intruding in a space she did not belong

mr keating says she’s welcome back as she wishes, but she doesn’t anticipate needing his help again

she knows enough

the drive back to burlington was the same as the drive from it, lonely and dark

and when she returns to whit’s house, she sits in the front seat, looking at the house and the bay

she goes into the house, hangs up whit’s keys by the door, and returns to her bedroom

as though she had never left

as though, just as welton makes her think, nothing she does will dent the world enough

so don't even try

~

pls say something nice i worked so hard

what do you guys think of mr keating? i tried to capture his voice by using words like suffice

anyway taglist

@chloe-octavia

@aedan-mills

@regina-della-poesia

@justarandompjofan

@sapphicnoel

@iguanamuppet

@maisietheweltoncow

@finding-an-angle

@srj901

#dps 2: electric boogaloo #dead poets society #tw suicide mention #mr keating be like: yes child come into my house and tell me all your problems lord knows you're not telling anyone else

[mauvefayette6]

hey! could i request something with a female reader whos the granddaughter of mr nolan? shes like really nice and kind but is one of those people to cry really easily over small things. and a lot of students dont like her but she tries to be nice, and like she manages to befriend the poes. maybe she finds out about the dead poets society but instead of telling she secretly leaves new poetry books for them or leaves them food and stuff. thank you!

Goodbye Home || Poets x fem!reader

"What don't you get?!" Yelled the tutor after slamming their fists on the textbook.

"Please stope yelling!" The poor girl cried covering her face with her hands.

"Stop crying, how do you expect to get into Harvard if you can't do basic math?!" The tutor shouted again.

"I do get it I just have some troubles getting there," she muttered bringing her hands down from her face as she glared at the floor.

"This session is over, you don't have the cells in your brain to do these simple trigonometry questions." The tutor slammed the textbook closed as they stormed out the room leaving the scared young girl sitting on the desk chair.

She sighed as she got up and sadly made her way to her dorm room. She wasn't going to make it far in life if she couldn't even do basic trigonometry.

"I'm a failure," she frowned as she sat on her bed. Her roommate, Rebecca, looked over to her from her desk.

"The tutor yelled at you again?" She laughed. "I don't know why Mr. Nolan tries so hard, you'll never even make it to a community college."

"Shut up, I'm trying really hard!" She shouted as she began crying again. She stormed out the room as she mindlessly ran towards the forest.

She liked the trees and the nature, she always felt at home when she was with nature. She wandered and wandered until she heard voices. She grabbed a stick just in case she needed to defend herself.

She got closer and closer to the source of the voices until she noticed a cave she hadn't seen before. She listened in as she tried to hide herself.

"Poetry?" She mumbled surprised as she heard a line from a Walt Whitman poem. She adored poetry and often read poetry when she got the chance. Her English professor Mr. Keating gives her poetry books he thinks she'd like.

She heard them began to chant and dance around and took that as a sign to begin leaving. She ran as quickly as she could back to the school.

"Poetry? Boys in a cave reading poetry?" She repeated to herself as she walked towards her room making sure she was as quiet as possible.

She went into her bed covering herself as she stared at the blank wall. Boys, in the woods, after hours, reading poetry? Questions raced around her head as she slowly fell asleep.

"Wake up!" Screamed her roommate, this scared the girl awake from a dream she wish she hadn't awoken from.

"I'm up," she sighed getting out of bed.

"Hurry and get dressed, breakfast starts in 10 minutes," Rebecca said before walking out the room and towards the dining hall.

"My grandfather wanted to talk to me before breakfast," she cried as she hurried to dress herself. She was down the stairs when she realized she forgot her shoes and ran back to get them.

Rushing to her grandfathers room she opened the door breathing heavily.

"Sorry sir, I wasn't-" she was interrupted by him as he raised a finger motioning for her to hold her tongue.

"I'm tired of these excuses." He began, "As headmaster of this school it brings me great shame that my sons only child can't do not even the most basics of Trigonometry."

"Sir-" she began trying to explain herself.

"You stay silent whilst I'm speaking!" He shouted. She stepped back in fear as she lowered her head trying to keep the tears in.

"I cannot continue to defend you and your outrages stupidity. I'm the laughingstock of the staff, at my own school!" He continued, "look at me when I'm speaking!"

She quickly looked up trying her best to hold in her tears.

"Improve your grades and become top of the school or I'm sending you to the all girls school in France, you understand?" He asked with his best stern face.

"Yes sir," she said looking at him trying to hide her fear.

"You can go eat your breakfast, if you still have time," he muttered the last part as he continued what he was doing. She walked out, she hadn't realized that she was holding her breath. She allowed the tears to fall from her eyes as she quietly sobbed all the way back to the dining hall where she only had five minutes to finish whatever was on her plate.

"What's with the long face?" Rebecca joked as her and her little clique laughed.

"You jerk," she muttered once she was out of sight. She couldn't help but feel isolated, the whole school knew that Mr. Nolan was her grandfather.

(Y/n) Nolan, the inly grandchild of Mr. Nolan and his son Micheal Nolan. Her father passed away during a trip to Norway. Her mother was absent and frequented bars and prison.

She forgave her mother for abandoning her years ago but never forgave her father. She blamed everything on his death. Her relationship with her grandfather, her grades, and her mother alcoholism.

"Meeting tonight," she heard someone whisper. She was snapped away from her thoughts and the familiarity of the voice.

"The boys," she mumbled under her breath as she took notice of a brunette boy walking with a dirty blonde boy. "Neil and Todd?" She muttered.

Mr. Keating was her favorite teacher at Welton and the only reason her grade in English was amazing. He grabbed her attention unlike any other professor had done before. Of course Mr. McAllistor attempts to catch students attention but fails.

"Neil and Todd are Keatings favorite students," she said out loud. "Of course they would start a secret society."

"Talking to yourself are we?" She heard someone say followed by snickers. "Not only are we dumb but also crazy."

"Shit up Rebecca!" She shouted holding back her tears before storming away. No matter where she went Rebecca would be there, not even in the comfort of a dorm room could keep her away. The irony is that her entire educational career they have been roommates and never got along.

She sneaked into the kitchens knowing the cooks were on their break. She began to make her specialty. She enthusiastically mixed the ingredients as she cooked them. After twenty or so minutes it was all ready. She quietly walked out and into the woods. Of course she passed by her dorm to retrieve a certain book she adored.

"Just say hi," she muttered over and over again as she walked to the cave. It took her a while to figure out where it was. As soon as she arrived she sat on a rock debating if she should stay or if she should go.

She heard crunching and footsteps nearing. She looked at the container of food and then at the book before deciding to leave. She left the stuff as she hurried away running and running until she arrived at her dorm room.

"Mr. Nolan was looking for you, he told me to tell you to go to his office immediately." Rebecca said dully.

"Did he say what for?" She asked and Rebecca just shrugged before returning to her homework.

(Y/n) made her way towards her grandfathers office. She knocked twice before going in as she saw her grandfather pacing the room.

"You wanted to see me sir?" She asked catching Mr. Nolan's attention.

"Where were you?!" He shouted angrily catching her by surprise.

"I-" she was interrupted again,

"Never mind that! Very important people are coming in two months to observe the school and the overall average of the school," he began nervously. "We are an exemplary school, it's just you and Mr. Dalton."

"Me?" She asked astonished.

"You and Mr. Dalton are messing up the schools average!" He shouted angrily. "I want you to retrieve Mr. Charles Dalton every Tuesday's for tutoring, I need the average to go up!"

"I don't know a Charles Dalton sir," she said in her most confident voice.

"Then look for him, I can't do everything for you." He grumbled. "You're dismissed."

She walked out his office confused as she began her search for a Charles Dalton. She walked towards her dorm room and opened her Chemistry book.

"Going to try to do homework?" Rebecca mumbled her eyes still on her book.

"Yeah, why?" (Y/n) muttered back still looking at the pages of her textbook.

"I don't know why you bother. Your abilities obviously lie elsewhere." Rebecca turned to look at her causing (Y/n) to turn and look at her.

Rebecca sat there holding up (Y/n)'s private journal. An expression of shock, disgust and betrayal was summoned upon her face.

"My journal?!" She exclaimed standing up tears threaten to fall from her eyes. "Thats my private journal!"

"If it was so private why leave it on top of your desk?" She smirked throwing the journal on her bed. "Nothing interesting anyways. I couldn't imagine living such a worthless and boring life."

(Y/n) stood up and walked out tears falling from her eyes as she attempted and failed to wipe them away. Again and again the tears fell from her eyes as small sobs escaped her lips.

"I can't believe she would stoop this low. Digging in my private thoughts? I couldn't imagine why!" She cried. She was now outside with the trees and nature like she wished she could always be.

She heard laughter and boys making jokes, its the secret club she found about yesterday night. She stood up and dusted herself up as she walked back to the school determined to befriend them somehow.

She envied their friendship in the best possible way. Considering that she's only ever heard them laughing with each other. After a while of debating wether she should return to her dorm room or not. She entered it, where else would she sleep? She wasn't exactly welcomed anywhere else.

She decided to make a plan before sleeping, she'd find out their meeting days and leave them gifts (food, books, ideas, etc).

The following day she crept behind Neil and Todd as they talked to a very handsome boy about their year.

"Meeting tonight, you can't miss out," Neil smiled before walking away. This afternoon? So soon already? She asked herself as she continued to walk deep in thought.

She accidentally bumped into someone as she stumbled backwards almost falling.

"Watch it!" Shouted a boys voice as he turned around.

"I'm so sorry!" She apologized quickly, "are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. Are you?" He asked nonchalantly.

"Yeah, the names (Y/n)-" but she was once again interrupted.

"You're Nolan's kid?" He asked as she nodded. "Charlie Dalton."

"Charles Dalton?" She repeated as he gave her a confused nod. "I'm so glade I finally found you!"

"You were looking for me? Perhaps for an autograph?" He laughed smirking.

"You wish, Mr. Nolan wants us go meet up at the Library I suppose for tutoring. Every Tuesday." She smiled as Charlie rolled his eyes.

"I've been told by letter but I refuse to waste my Tuesday's on tutoring." He shrugged before leaving. She followed behind closely in attempts to convince him of going.

"Please Mr. Dalton! Mr. Nolan will be greatly angered if you don't show up! It's for the good of school!" She shouted as Charlie began to speed up.

"My father's Mr. Dalton. I'm Charlie!" He stopped angrily glaring at her as she attempted to catch her breath.

"Please go, I'll be in loads of trouble if you don't show up, please come?" She begged again with hopeful eye.

"Okay, I'll think about okay?" He said sighing in defeat.

"Thank you so much, it won't be for very long!" She smiled before walking away happily. She walked into the kitchens again and prepared her best deserts that she could think of.

She wondered the library for hours grabbing poetry books and writing down her favorite ones into a small notebook. She decided that this will be her project. She'll write her favorite poems on a notebook until she mustered the courage to befriend them.

She dug in her closet for any poetry books she had, her father was an avid lover of poetry. She smiled as she pulled out her father's favorite poetry book.

She gently put it inside her picnic basket along with the cookies as she quickly walked into the woods smiling as she heard the birds chirp. Although a rather long journey she sat in the rock she previously had.

She smiled as she sat the basket on the ground on top of a blanket she decided to bring. She smiled as she looked around. She wondered how the meetings went, if all they really did was read poetry to each other.

She heard rustling and laughter and took this a sign to hurry out of there. She ran back to the school and towards her dorm room.

"Where were you?" Rebecca asked with a smirk.

"Why does it matter to you?" She muttered angrily sitting on her desk as Rebecca shrugged and went back to her homework.

(Y/n) attempted to finish up her Chemistry project due tomorrow which unsurprisingly failed miserably. She was never good at Chemistry although she didn't completely hate it.

The next morning she woke late as ever and dressed late as ever. She barely even had time to eat a muffin before classes started.

She walked inside Mr. Keating classroom a great smile on her face as she sat in front.

Welton had barely allowed girls into the school after Henley Hall was burnt down a few years back. In attempts to make it work the girls and boys were separated, there were only a handful of girl students. The girls had one schedule as the boys had another schedule.

Luckily for the next class they'd be allowed into Henley Hall as it's quickly being rebuilt.

Mr. Keating was (Y/n) favorite teacher, she didn't have top marks in this class as she didn't have top marks in any other class but Mr. Keating didn't seem to pay much attention to that.

Classes were over as (Y/n) made her way back to the library to write down some more of her favorite poems. Maybe one day she'll be confident enough to finally talk to them. She sighed as she finished writing down the last poem.

She walked to the kitchen and baked and cooked a few things. Hopefully no ones was severely allergic to anything. She smiled at the thought that maybe one day they'll know her name.

Just like the day before she dropped the basket off before fleeing. This went on for weeks than a whole month went by and she was done writing down poems in the notebook.

"Done already?" She muttered to herself. She sighed before going back to her dorm room. She sat on the bed before checking the time. "Ten minutes."

She contemplated her next move, her grades hadn't improved neither had Charlie's. Mr. Nolan was fuming and she just knew she would soon be kicked out. She received a letter yesterday morning during breakfast.

She began getting ready, she packed ever article of clothes and items she owned. She looked at the dorm room sadly before making her way to her grandfathers office. She met Charlie half way there who didn't seem to be worried.

"Why do you think he asked to see us?" Charlie whispered and she shrugged.

"Come in!" Mr. Nolan shouted a tone of rage lingered as they entered the office.

(Y/n) stood tensely and Charlie looked unbothered and unnerved.

"You may be asking why I asked to see you two after classes," he began as he circled them. "As you may know, you two have the lowest marks at this school which is saying a lot as most don't go under a 97%."

She gulped knowing that her lowest mark was in trigonometry being a 39%.

Charlie shrugged nonchalantly, he was the richest student at Welton and if he really wanted he could use his dad's money to keep him in.

"I have talked to your father Charles," Mr. Nolan began, "he agrees with me that you must put extra effort in your marks but we have come to an agreement so you're dismissed but we will be having another talk with your father in two weeks, understood?"

"Clear as water sir," Charlie smiled before walking out of the office room.

"I'm greatly disappointed in you, you're a Nolan for goodness sakes!" He shouted slamming his fists on his table.

"I swear I've been trying sir-" she frantically attempted to explain but Mr. Nolan wanted to hear none of it.

"These are not the principles I've raised you on. Writing poetry and fantasizing about boys." (Y/n) tensed up. "Your roommate Rebecca confided in me about what you're up to."

"Sir-" she once again attempted to explain herself.

"I want to hear no more of this, you're dismissed now." He pointed at the door as he resumed the paper work. She left the room crying and she continued to cry until she reached her dorm room.

"(Y/n)?" Rebecca said in a soft voice.

"How could you? Not only did you read my journal but told Mr. Nolan?" She asked trying to wipe away the tears.

"I-" but Rebecca couldn't finish her sentence as she looked away in shame.

"It's okay, I'm leaving the school anyways. Mr. Nolan's going to kick me out so what use is there in arguing?" She chuckled sadly before once again leaving the room.

She went down to the kitchen with her poetry journal in hand. She grabbed a few cookies before heading to the cave. She was unsure if she was going to see them or not but what difference did it make?

She sat on her usual spot her journal in one hand and the baked goods in the other. She waited, she didn't care for how long she would have to.

That's when she heard laughter and footsteps. She stood ip and dusted her skirt standing tensely.

"(Y/n)?" Charlie Dalton said almost surprised as he entered the room.

"Hi," she smiled awkwardly waving.

"You know her?" Neil whispered and Charlie nodded before looking at the desserts in her hand.

"Are you the person that's been leaving us desserts?" A ginger boy with curly hair asked pointing at the basket.

"I- yes?" She said hesitantly.

"Well we finally put a face to the greatest baker in the world!" An overly optimistic Knox Overstreet smiled.

"I'm Steven Meeks, this is Gerard, Todd, Knox, Neil, Richard and as you may already know Charlie." He smiled introducing everyone.

"I'm (Y/n) Nolan, Mr. Nolan's ex-granddaughter," she laughed sadly.

"Ex? How can someone be someones ex-granddaughter?" Neil asked.

"I've been disowned?" She said in a questioning tone as she tried to hide her tears.

"Does that mean you're leaving Welton?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah, he's ashamed of me and honestly being under his rules are hell and I'd rather be by my own!" She smiled successfully.

"Good on you!" Neil said patting her back.

"Where do you plan to go?" Todd asked nervously.

"My aunt from my moms said she'd take me in, she's all the way in California, I called her and she agreed!" She smiled widely, "I leave next weekend for California."

"We'll miss you even though we barely met each other," Knox smiled bringing her in for a hug.

"I'll miss you guys too, here have this," she smiled reaching for her bag. "I gathered all my favorite poetry just for you guys to enjoy."

And just like that they enjoyed a meeting where nothing else mattered but each others company. (Y/n) left the next weekend as she had joined them for many of there following meetings.

She felt at home for once in her life although she was sad to depart them she knew it was for the best.

#dead poets society #neil perry #todd anderson #charlie dalton #knox overstreet #steven meeks one shots #steven meeks #gerard pitts #richard cameron #one shot #xreader #xfem!reader

[futurewriter2000]

Pencil

A/N: I hadn’t written a request in so long but I really enjoyed writing this one. It was such a nice change from Harry Potter world and I needed this. I actually got butterflies writing this. It isn’t as perfect as I wanted it to be but it’s just for enjoyment. Hope you like it. 

REQUEST:  I saw that you did some writing for Charlie in the dead poets society, and I was perhaps wondering if you could do a shy Steven Meeks, like he’s helping the reader or whoever with homework and Like they grab for a pencil they touch hands and Steven blushes, or whenever the reader talks to him he stutters at first, or whenever they sit next to each other they play with each other‘s fingers  and talk but Steven doesn’t look up because he’s too nervous to look at her eyes

xx

Steven was casually walking to the public library. He did not rush, nor walked to slowly- he simply enjoyed the long walk from the all-boys school Wellton and the slower he walked, more time he had to spend away from that school. He did not despise it as much as the other boys did, no. He loved studying and he loved tutoring as well. Since Mr. Keating had started to teach, he had felt inspired to become a professor himself. He knew his parents would not approve, with his knowledge and intelligence in most of subjects but there is always that hope to dream. 

He did not mind to agree to this study session. He had known you from your neighbourhood in childhood and when his father asked him to help you with some subject, he didn’t mind to oblige. He hasn’t seen in you in years, being stuck in that school and the fact that you had moved to the other side of town but the two of you were always great childhood friends. 

He walked into the library and looked around. He saw plenty of students, reading, writing and whispering to each other but he couldn’t see you. Hell, he didn’t even know what you looked like anymore. 

It was until a girl in the far corner caught his attention. Her hands were holding a book with a blue-ish sort of colour and her hair, pinned back into a bun. And there exists a hypothesis that if you watch someone for 20 seconds, they will feel it- and so you did, looking up from your book and catching his eye. You smiled brightly at him and waved at him to come over. 

It was at that moment that Steven Meeks felt his whole body burn and sweat. You had become gorgeous through the years and he had never thought that you would mature so beautifully. It took him solely by surprise to see you despite the fact he knew it was you, who he would be tutoring but he hadn’t imagined tutoring a pretty girl like you. 

He rushed to your table and smiled. “(Y/N)?” he asked just in case, though he knew that your smile was hard to forget. It always held the same light from childhood. 

“Stevie.” you smiled brightly, standing up and hugging him dearly. You noticed a red stain appear on his cheeks and that made you let out a small giggle. “You had gotten taller.” you added as you sat down, “Come sit.” 

“So did you, might I add.” he smiled, sitting down as well and placing his bag on the table. “And matured quite beautifully.” he let surpass, realising what he had said and immediately blushing to his own words. “I mean... I... I didn’t mean it.... I mean I did- you’re quite beautiful but.... uhm...”

You let out a soft giggle and placed your hand on top of his, trying to calm him down. “Thank you.”  you said, trying to catch his eyes as he avoided yours, smiling and looking everywhere but you. 

“So, how about we start with Latin?” he started pulling out books.

---

It had continued like this for the whole week. He barely looked at you when he talked and sometimes whenever he tried to explain something to you, the closer you got, the more he started to choke over his words. You always seemed to have this flowery parfume on you that caused his brain chemicals to mess with his focus. 

You didn’t notice it, though. You found him impeccable at teaching you maths and Latin, which were your worst subjects. He would always smile and get this twinkle in his eyes- maybe even start talking too fast or over-explain things. 

“Can we take a break?” you asked as you had felt as if your brain was about to explode into bitses. 

Meeks looked at you and see how frustrated you were by this math complex and so he let out a chuckle. “Yeah, sure.” 

He had gotten more comfortable around you, not as nervous the more he talked to you. He enjoyed spending time with you and most importantly, he loved talking to you during your breaks. 

“You’re doing far more better than you had when we started.” he leaned back in his chair, letting his eyes wander on you.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” you smiled back at him. 

“No, I’m being completely honest.” he continued. 

“Really? Because I feel like I’m just getting more confused, the more I know. I don’t know how you do it.” 

“Do math? It’s easy-”

“Easy?”

“For me it’s like a puzzle. You have a problem and if you know all the right steps, it unfolds so wonderfully. Every math problem has a solution, even if the solution does not exist.” 

“That’s a nice way of putting it.” you simpered at his enthusiasm and that glow he gets whenever he talks about something he adores. It even makes you like math when you see how much a person can love it. “Alright then- let’s get back to our problem.” you said, sitting back straight and tying up your hair. 

“That’s the spirit.” he let out a laugh, sitting back next to you and noticing your eyes looking around. “What?”

“Pencil. I don’t know where I had put it.” you continued to look around, lifting up papers, books and tapping around with your hands.

“Here-” he said as he tried to reach for the pencil that has caught his eye under a blank piece of paper- the same pencil that has caught your eye and before you could hear him, the two of you bumped hands to reach for it. 

And your hands just touched, they touched and stood there, your pinky finger touching his pinky finger, the side of his palm, touching your palm and as innocent it looked- it felt quite intimate. 

Meeks was the first to pull away, seeing what he had done and blushing intensely from the warm touch of your hand. He rubbed the back of his neck and then ruffled his hair, which made him only more attractive when his freckles his behind those red-stained cheeks and his red curls began to stick out in more directions. 

You let out a  soft giggle before grabbing the pencil in your hands and pulling up the unsolved equation in front of you. “Everything alright?” you asked teasingly.

“Y- yeah.” he nodded his head and tried to gather back his focus. “Let’s do this.”

---

When it was over, the two of you had decided to walk out of the library together, slightly bumping shoulders together. It caused your stomach to fill itself with roses and a flock of butterflies. At first it was always you who was engaging in it but sooner, he found the courage to walk just as close to you as you did with him. His hand would touch yours, his pinky finger taking a slight hold of your index finger. Only for a moment- to give you warmth before the winter cold reached you. 

“I don’t know where my pencils keep disappearing- I swear! I just don’t know!” you laughed and he smiled along side of you. 

“Well...” he stopped in front of you and turned his whole body to you. “I think I have quite the solution to your probles.” he grinned, letting his hand reach to your cheek and you were sure he was about to kiss you. Your heart started to race, your eyes widened, your hands even became more clammy than before... but he didn’t kiss you. His hand reached up to your ear and pulled out a small pencil. 

You couldn’t help yourself but laugh. “Oh, my God.” you continued to laugh, just as he did. “How long did you know it was there?”

“All the time.” he kept smiling.

“And you hadn’t had the decency to tell me?”

“Had to find an excuses to save the beautiful damsel in distress.”

 “By helping me with all of this school-work, you are saving me already.” you smiled, still feeling the butterflies in your stomach from when he calls you beautiful. 

“And your exam is tomorrow?” he asked, looking down at the floor and trying not to frown.

“10.30.” you looked up, trying not to frown as well. “Does that mean I won’t see you for another five years?” you asked as he lifted his head up and gave you a bright smile.

“I wouldn’t want that, would you?”

“I wouldn’t want that either.” 

“Well then...” he smiled and reached for the pencil in your hand and putting it behind his ear. “Maybe if I find that pencil of yours, I’ll bring it back to you.” he grinned and you let out a soft laugh, taking a hold of his cold hand as he took a hold of yours. 

“Hope you won’t have trouble finding it.”

“If I don’t, I might as well buy another one- maybe take you out for coffee if you’d like?” he said as his cheeks grew red again. 

“I would- uhm.” you couldn’t seem to spill it our. “I would love too.”

#steven meeks #steven meeks imagine #dead poets society #dead poets society imagine #dead poets society fanfiction

[mimisempai]

Wait for me on the other side 1/8

Summary:

Mobius, a watchmaker, and Loki, a teacher, realize that they are separated by two years of time when they exchange letters from different years in the mailbox of the house on the cliff where Mobius lives. As the two lonely hearts feel they have found their soulmate, will they ever meet?

or the Lakehouse AU that nobody asked for.

Notes:

This is my very first multi-chapter AU. I hope you'll enjoy it. Chapters will be released on a weekly basis.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32948254/chapters/81773392

3772 words - rating G

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 (End)

When two people "connect" the bond between them can be so pure and simple as to stir hearts in heaven.

When they connect in all the right places at all the wrong times, heaven weeps for broken hearts. To heal these broken hearts, heaven breaks time.

—Blithe Spiritus

Loki took one last look through the rearview mirror at the cottage on the edge of the cliff, which was getting smaller and smaller as he drove away.

Shifting his gaze forward, his face slid to the crate on the passenger seat, where Croki, his pet alligator, was sitting.

"I hope you will like your new home..." Loki sighed.

Then suddenly, he braked abruptly, holding back the cage with one hand as it slid forward. Then he backed the car up.

"Shit. I'm sorry Croc'"

He walked over to the mailbox. He put his hand through the window, opened the mailbox and put an envelope inside. Then his long fingers pulled the red flag in a vertical position, to indicate that there was mail. All this under the eyes of Croki who followed with attention all his gestures.

He tapped the top of the cage, "Come on, this time we're off for good."

He rolled, speeding up, refusing to look at the sign for the tiny village his home was in, New Asgard.  Loki rolled east, the cliff behind him, then passed a sign: New York, 35 miles.

The traffic became heavier as he approached the city.

After maneuvering through the various streets and making his way through the New York traffic, he stopped in front of an apartment building on a busy street. It was a very recent building, cold and sterile. The contrast with the tranquility of New-Asgard was striking.

He parked, got out of the car and took a moment to absorb the change in his surroundings. Then with a sigh, he began to unload his things.

**********

Loki stopped at the steps in front of the entrance to the imposing establishment - September High-School. He inhaled deeply to give himself courage before moving forward, climbing the few steps and pushing open the heavy door. He entered and walked to what appeared to be the front desk where a busy looking secretary was standing.

Loki asked softly, "Excuse me?"

"Just a minute, okay?"

Loki waited a minute, politely, then tried to get the secretary's attention again.

"Ahem... Excuse me, I need to..."

She handed him a stack of paper, while saying, without looking at him, "Just fill this out and wait for me there, okay?"

Loki handed it back to her.

"No, I'm Loki Laufeyson. I'm a new teacher. I was told to report here."

The secretary looked sheepish, "Oh, I'm sorry, Professor. You need to find Principal Romanov. She should be around here. A woman with red hair, dressed in black, you can't miss her."

He did indeed find the Principal in the hallway that the secretary had pointed out.

Natasha Romanov may have looked young to be a high school principal, but everything about her demeanor, her head carriage, her attitude exuded confidence and authority. She walked quickly down the hallway and Loki, though tall, had a hard time keeping up with her.

The principal handed him a large stack of files as soon as they arrived in her office.

"You will be in charge of the sophomores, this morning you will have three classes to teach and three this afternoon."

Loki repeated to be sure, "Three?"

"That's a quiet day, for a first day."

Loki looked a little dazed, he didn't think he was going to jump into the deep end and thought he would have some time to adjust.

The principal turned around, as if she sensed his hesitation, "The teacher you replaced let us down without notice, and it took us a while to find the right replacement, the students lost a lot of time for their final exams. We have to do our best to make sure they pass."

They walked past a student who was sitting alone on a bench, looking sulky. Romanov motioned to a supervisor.

"What's he doing here?"

The supervisor replied, "He was grounded because he took apart a computer to prove Professor Banner wrong and has to do an hour of gym under Professor Odinson's supervision. However, I can't leave the place unattended, and I was waiting for my backup to take him there.

"Peter get up," said principal Romanov in a sharp tone.

The young man stood up, a sulky look on his face.

"Professor Laufeyson, take him to Professor Odinson in the gym and then you can begin your lessons in this class."

The principal pointed to the door of the classroom in question, then turned and walked back to her office, not waiting for an answer.

"Well come with me, Mister...?"

The young boy followed his lead and replied with a pouty tone, "Parker, Peter Parker. »

"Then let's go Mr. Parker, the computer dismantler." replied Loki with a wink.  He knew he couldn't condone what the young man had done, but he couldn't help but find it amusing.

Seeing that the professor didn't look reproachful as he said these words, Peter lost his pout and got a small smile.

"Although I'm curious as to what could have caused you to disassemble a computer."

Peter seemed to come back to life, explained to an amused Loki, that Professor Banner, who taught biology, had said that nothing could compare to the complex construction that was a living being and Peter had wanted to show him the opposite by dismantling the Professor's laptop.

"But I was about to put it back together though, I don't understand why he got so upset."

Loki couldn't help but laugh.

Peter's face frowned because they had arrived at the gym.

They walked through the door and there a giant blonde man came striding in, "Peter Parker, it's been so long! Tell me what you've been up to again." he ruffled Peter's hair who tried to shy away from it, then he held out his hand to Loki who had to hold back a wince at the strength of the professor's grip.

"Professor Odinson, but call me Thor. Nice to meet you. New professor?"

"Yes, I am the new literature professor, Loki Laufeyson, but call me Loki. I'll leave this promising young man to you," He winked at Peter before continuing, "as for me I'll be teaching my first class."

"Welcome here, and good luck!" threw Thor at him before turning back to Peter, "Go change, we'll start with 10 laps running around the basketball court."

Hearing Peter's grumbles, Loki smiled as he walked away.

A few minutes later, he stopped outside his classroom door and took a deep breath.

"It takes a little time to adjust, but most of the students here are exceptional and the teaching staff is really, really nice."

Loki turned to see who had just spoken.

He found himself facing a black man, taller than him, and very impressive. But despite his imposing nature, his smile and eyes were very warm as he held out his hand. "Heimdall, art professor, welcome."

Loki grasped it and replied, "Loki, literature professor."

Heimdall gave a small nod in the direction of the door, "Good luck." then walked away.

Loki, surprisingly relaxed following this little interlude, walked through the classroom door with a confident air, placed his belongings on the desk and with an engaging smile on his lips addressed his first students, "Hello, I am your new literature teacher and I hope we will work well together."

He paused, letting his gaze roam over the entire class before continuing,"O Captain! My Captain! Who knows where that came from? No one? No idea? It's-"

A young boy raised his hand at the back of the classroom.

"Yes Mister...?"

"Keener, Harley Keener."

"All right Mister Keener, I'm listening."

"It's a Walt Whitman poem about Abraham Lincoln. And it's plagiarism of Professor Keating's introduction played by Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society."

Loki didn't lose his confidence at all and replied, "Thank you Mr. Keener. I'm not going to apologize for the plagiarism. I didn't expect anyone to contradict me since this film was released long before you were all born. Thank you, Mr. Keener, for setting me straight. I won't ask you to call me Captain, Sir, or Professor, but simply Loki. Yes, Mr. Keener, Loki, as in the Norse god of mischief... "

The whole class, including Harley, laughed and Loki thought that it wasn't such a bad start.

But he still felt exhausted at the end of the day, and he slumped into the chair at his assigned desk in the teacher's lounge. He leaned in and put his head back, closing his eyes.

"So they've worn you out already?" it was the deep voice, which he recognized as Heimdall's. He opened his eyes to see that the art professor had sat just at the desk next to him.

"Yet the Famous Five keep talking about Loki, the new professor who is super cool. It's been a long time since I've heard a literature professor on such good terms." It was Thor who came to join them and pulled a chair to sit in the space between Heimdall and Loki.

"The Famous Five?"

Thor chuckled before answering, "They're called that because they're always stuffed together, probably five of the smartest minds in this elite school, and as a result always going out on the town to..."

"…the benefit of science." finished Heimdall.

"That's their argument every time they get busted," Thor clarified.

"Who are they?" asked Loki, curious.

"There's Peter who you met this morning, he's in the same class as his two childhood friends Ned and MJ. There's Harley who talked about how you put him in his place, when he thought he had fooled you. Captain my Captain huh?"

Thor chuckled before continuing, "and finally Kamala Khan, the newest one, a little brunette, a ball of energy who always wears a big red scarf, summer and winter and who the other four have taken under their wing."

"Interesting..." replied Loki, thoughtfully.

"Wait until you're the target of their prank and we'll see if you find these kids interesting." said an unknown voice behind him.

"Bruce my friend! Were you able to fix your laptop?" exclaimed Thor with a laugh.

Loki turned around, only to find himself standing in front of a man who was a little older than him. He stood up and held out his hand, "Professor Banner, I presume."

"Am I that famous?" the man asked, raising an eyebrow as he shook the outstretched hand in a firm grip.

"It's mostly that I had the pleasure of taking Peter Parker for his grounding to Thor." replied Loki

"That brat..." harrumphed Bruce. "He's smart... but his habit of proving he's always right..."

The other men laughed in unison.

"So boys? Are we having fun?" a young woman with short blond hair stepped forward and held out her hand, "Carol Danvers, homeroom teacher at this crazy school."

"Nice to meet you," Loki replied, shaking the outstretched hand.

Unaccustomed to being around so many people and especially such friendly people, Loki felt a little overwhelmed and suddenly the fatigue of this first day seemed to fall on his shoulders to the point that he had to stifle a yawn.

Thor patted him on the back and said, "I have an excellent remedy for that."

"What is it?"

Heimdall and Thor high-fived each other and said in unison, "The Bifrost."

At Loki's look of complete incomprehension, Carol explained, "It's a bar two blocks away, good burgers, good beer and for good company, that's us." she finished with a wink.

Loki realized they were inviting him to come with them but he hesitated and finally replied, "Thanks. I better not drink tonight. I'm dead."

Bruce retorted, "We're all dead."

"Yes, but I still have a lot to unpack."

They nodded, and did not seem disappointed by his refusal, even rather understanding. Loki really wasn't used to this kind of company.

Heimdall put his hand on his arm and then said softly, "Next time, then."

Loki, not understanding why his throat was tight, simply nodded.

A little later, they separated in front of the school gates. Loki on one side and the group on the other.

" Bye Loki!"

"See you tomorrow Captain!"

Loki lived only three blocks from the school and soon arrived home. When he entered he realized how sterile and cold his large apartment seemed.

He had not yet had time to unpack all his things and the boxes were scattered everywhere. The first thing he had unpacked was Croki's terrarium, which took up a whole room.

As he closed the door, he heard Croki's typical little paws coming and rubbing against him as usual. He patted his head and headed for the kitchen. Croki was a Cuvier's Dwarf caiman. Loki had once wanted to get a dog, but in the animal shelter he had immediately felt a connection with the animal, perhaps because he was different, like himself.

Loki opened the refrigerator which was desperately empty except for Croki's fish ration. He put it on a plate and put it on the floor while commenting, "Need alligator food. And human too."

He was going to have to do some shopping tomorrow.

After snacking on a bag of chips, exhausted, he took a quick shower before going to his room.

"Good night Croki."

His room was as functional and depressing as the rest of the place. He went to stand in front of the window. Outside it was all stone buildings. It was very difficult to even see the sky. He sighed, "What a view..."

He pulled the blinds and went to bed. Once his head was on the pillow, he fell asleep very quickly, which prevented him from thinking too much about everything he missed.

**********

A red pickup truck passed the New Asgard sign before parking at the side of the path that leads to the house. Its back end was filled with furniture and moving boxes. A mustachioed man with gray hair got out. He walked toward the cottage on the edge of the cliff and stopped, hands on hips, contemplating the view.

He opened the door, looked for the electric power meter. He turned it on and went to turn on the light in the entrance and then in what seemed to be the living room.

Mobius examined the place, satisfied. There wasn't much. A stereo, some books, an armchair. But the bare and cosy furniture matched perfectly with the austere beauty of the small cottage. He looked out the window at the cliff. He was going to like it here.

It took him a good four hours to unload his pickup truck by himself and install just about everything he had brought. Once finished, he grabbed a cold beer that he had put in the cooler and while drinking it quietly walked around the house before getting in the car to go shopping at the local grocery store that he had spotted on his way in.

Once he had gone around the store, with his groceries in his arms, he went to put them on the counter.

The young owner and his wife were behind.

"Hi, are you new around here?" the owner asked him.

Mobius smiled and replied, "More or less. My name is Mobius."

The owner replied, "My name is Clint and this is my wife, Laura."

Laura smiled and added, "You're going to like it. Especially now that the weather is getting warmer." Then pointing to the groceries, she added, "We'll get you some boxes for all that."

"Oh thanks." replied Mobius.

Laura fetched an empty box from a high shelf. Now that she was no longer hidden by the counter, it was obvious that she was pregnant. Clint rushed to her. "No, honey, let me."

Mobius looked at them, feeling moved and at the same time fully aware of his own loneliness. He paid, took his box and left, but not without promising the young couple to return.

He parked in front of the small road with his groceries in the back of the truck and noticed the mailbox with its flag up. He stopped and opened it. There was an envelope.

For the new tenant.

He took in the groceries, put them away, made himself a sandwich tray and taking the letter, he went to sit on the armchair in front of the bay window. He put his tray on a small table next to it, opened the letter and started to read.

Dear new tenant.

Hello and welcome to your new home and congratulations, blah blah blah. You have made an excellent choice, New Asgard is a wonderful place and this house is a gem, as you may have already noticed.

I'm sure you'll love living here as much as I do.

By the way, I'm the former tenant, Loki.

Mobius looked perplexed but also pleasantly surprised.

The post office forwards my mail normally, but if something should happen here, because the post service is what it is and we are never safe, my new address is below. Thank you.

Mobius turned over the letter.

P.S.: Sorry for the pawprints leading to the front door. They were already there when I moved in, as well as the box in the attic. I think it belongs to the owner.

Mobius stared at the letter in amusement and could not help but check the end of the letter.

He went to the front door. The floor was clean. Inside and out.

"What did he talk about?" he scratched the back of his head before heading for the ladder that led to the attic. He opened the hatch, poked his head through and looked around. It was empty. No box.

Mobius went back down, shrugged, crumpled the letter and threw it away.

He finished his meal and went to bed.

The next day, in his clock store, while repairing an antique watch with an extremely complicated mechanism, he couldn't help thinking about the letter and its more or less strange ending when he was interrupted by the doorbell indicating that someone had entered the store.

He put down his tools, wiped his hands, and headed for the store.

"Hey Mobius! I made lunch, shall we share?"

It was the bubbly and somewhat invasive, Sylvie. The owner of the antique gun store right across from him.

He replied, annoyed, because she had interrupted his work that he loved, "I can't, I have urgent work to finish."

"Oh come on Mobius, there's nothing urgent about an old watch."

"It is to its owner."

She made a disappointed pout, "Well, okay..." she sighed and headed for the door, then turned abruptly. "Is it true you bought a house? Where is it? How is it?"

Mobius rolled his eyes, used to Sylvie's chatter.

"It's an isolated cottage, in a small village called New Asgard."

"You're sick to isolate yourself like that!"

"It's what I want and I already feel at home there. And now, if you don't mind, I'm going to get back to my work, which is not urgent." He walked briskly toward his studio, annoyed by the criticism of his choice, and didn't even hear the door close.

In the late afternoon, after his day's work, he decided to repaint the faded fences that lined the small path. The manual work, like his work on watches, helped him to clear his head.

A few hours later, as the day was getting darker, Mobius was kneeling on the steps and applying a new layer of paint to the weathered planks. He finished, satisfied with the result, and began to put his equipment away.

Behind him, a small dwarf alligator trotted along the path. Mobius didn't notice it at first. The alligator sped up and before Mobius could react, he stepped into the paint and left footprints behind him. "Hey!"

Mobius tried to catch the alligator but it ran back inside the house whose door Mobius had left ajar. Mobius was about to follow him, wondering what an alligator was doing here and if he was dangerous, when he suddenly stopped.

On the ground in front of the house, there was a trail of paw prints.

Mobius rushed to the garbage can and searched with determination through his trash when he finally found what he was looking for: Loki's letter.

He stared at it.

Sorry about the footprints leading to the front door. They were already there when I moved in, as was the box in the attic. I think it belongs to the owner.

He remained for a long moment staring at the crumpled note.

*********

Loki went out to have lunch at a place he had spotted not far from the school.

Finding the weather warm, he opened his coat and continued walking.

When he arrived at the place, he sat down on a bench and started to unwrap his sandwich, a book in his hand. He enjoyed this moment of calm, even if the place was crowded on this beautiful day.

Once finished eating, Loki closed his eyes for a moment, letting the sunlight warm him up. Just aware of the surrounding sounds, the water of the fountain, the splashes and laughter of the children playing there, an old man grumbling about global warming, the pigeons landing not far away, hoping to get some crumbs from those who like Loki had decided to have lunch here.

Suddenly, a horrible noise, a high-pitched squeal and a horn made Loki sit up. He suddenly opened his eyes and looked around.

A few meters away, in front of Loki, a double-decker city bus was trying to stop. It was going pretty fast, although you could tell the driver was trying to brake.

Loki registered it all, the noise, the bus, before noticing the gray-haired man standing directly in the path of the bus. There was nothing to be done, it was inevitable and almost immediate, the man was hit by the bus, and Loki, horrified, saw his distant figure fly ten or fifteen feet into the air before crashing to the sidewalk. The faint sound of the impact reached Loki half a second later, due to the distance.

Loki automatically took out his cell phone and dialed 911. As he walked towards the impact point, he gave all the information to the rescue workers, trying to remain calm.

Once he hung up the phone, he started to run towards the lifeless body.

_______

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 (End)

As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd and english is not my native language I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless🥰

#Lokius fic #alternate universe #loki series #loki #mobius m mobius #slow burn #time travel #thor #bruce banner #heimdall #natasha romanov #carol danvers #peter parker #harley keener #ned leeds #MJ #kamala khan #croki

[spideyanakin]

Dead Poets Society (Chapter 4)

Tom Holland x reader

Synopsis - 1959, your grandfather being the headmaster of Welton Academy - an all boys Boarding School, wanted you close to him after your parents death. Forcing you to join beyond any rules to be a student there. Despite strict rules you still fell in love with one. But Tom seems to be loosing the will to live when his strict family forces their wishes on him. Can one amazing teacher change your lives forever?

Series Masterlist 🍓

Normal Masterlist🧚🏼‍♀️

Chapter 4 - Heaven

December 15

You were terrified it was all going to come to an end. But you couldn’t believe it. No, everything was going to be fine. Fine. He was happy, happy with you, you couldn't be scared.

But then why did you have that feeling in your gut? Why was the world warning you about something?

You shook your head and pushed the shiver that had run down your spine, trailing back towards the school and knocking on Mr. Keating’s classroom.

You waited, slightly bouncing on your heels in anticipation a certain sense of nerve coming back to hunt you.

“Come in!” His voice sent a certain sense of comfort back to you. You pushed the door open and the tension that had built up in your shoulders suddenly fell.

“Oh Captain my captain?” You gripped your bag a little tighter as you put your two feet in the classroom. “I wanted to talk to you about Tom.” You bounced lightly in anticipation.

“Oh, Mrs.L/n. Yeah of course.” He nodded and you took it as your cue to sit down at your usual spot.

“Captain- I-” You sighed. “Have you talked to Tom recently?” You looked down at your hands and started nervously tracing the wood of the table with the tips of your fingers.

“Yeah.” he nodded, mirroring your frown.

“Did he tell you anything about his father? And the play? I believe he didn’t want him to do it.” Professor Keating nodded, and you met his eyes with a flash of worry passing through yours.

“Yes. I’ve talked to Tom about it this morning, actually. He told me he had talked with his father - that he let him to the play.” Keating went on but his words weighted.

“He did?” Your eyes went wide. “I didn’t know.” You looked away.

“You didn’t?” He wondered, suddenly feeling uneasy.

“No... I didn't...”

~

You entered the theater that night with a rock like-weight in your stomach.

Why would Tom lie to either you or Keating?

What was going on through his mind?

You bit your nails, something you never did but with the stress that the situation was bringing you, you didn't care of ruining your nails.

“He’s going to be amazing.” Harry bumped his shoulder into yours and you were brought back from your train of thoughts.

“Yeah.” You forced a smile before waiting until the curtain would be opened to stop biting your nails.

And when it did - you forgot all your worries.

They had all flown away by the time he said the last words of the play.

He gave you a short wink, right before the curtain decided to close again. Making him disappear behind velvet red curtains.

You pushed through the crowd out of the theater discussing the play with the rest of your friends.

Finally, you let out a large smile when you saw Tom slip out of the theater, but it quickly turned into a frown when you saw the iron grip that his father had on his wrist.

“Tom you were amazing!” Mr. Keating stopped Tom in his tracks.

“Thank you,” he mumbled not meeting the teacher's eyes. His father stepped in front of the teacher with anger-filled eyes.

“You- never talk to my son again.” Tom’s father angrily pointed to Mr. Keating and you looked at the scene with horror in your eyes. Mr. Keating took a step back, stunned.

You saw as he grabbed Tom’s wrist and pushed him towards the car. Tom couldn’t meet your eyes, he was too ashamed too.

You pushed through Harry, Sam, and your English teacher to finally arrived front to front with Tom and his father. You stepped in front of Tom as he was about to step into the car, grabbing him by the shoulders.

“Tom- Tom look at me.” Tom hesitantly lifted his eyes. “Tom you were amazing out there. Don’t listen to a word-” Before you could even finish your sentence a strong hand grabbed your wrist and you were pushed to the side, ending up face to face with Tom’s father.

“You.” His eyes made a shiver of fear pass through your spine. The grip on your wrist so tight you knew it would leave a bruise. “I don’t want to see you near my son again- understood?”

“Dad, leave her alone she has nothing to do with this-”

“Get in the car.” He pushed his son away and Tom relentlessly followed orders. The boys looked at the scene horrified.

Tom’s father was about to raise his hand but he eyed the group of people that were looking and harshly pushed you into your friends. Mr. Keating and Harry caught you in your fall and you let out the breath you were holding.

“Are you alright?” Mr.Keating frowned as he looked at you. You nodded, propping yourself up to meet everyone’s worried eyes.

They kept asking you questions but you couldn't think of a reply. Your mind went into a hundred miles per hour as you realized what might happen if you didn’t stop Mr.Holland from screaming at his son for being in a play. You squeezed Harry’s shoulder, still looking at the same spot on the ground.

Suddenly you ran off and grabbed the first bike you found, ignoring the scream of a teenage boy whose bike you had taken.

“You boys should go after her.” Mr.Keating locked eyes with the group. Harry and Harrison nodded, stealing two other bikes. The rest stayed behind.

“Where are you going!?” Harrison screamed after you as he and Harry madly peddled to catch up.

“Giving him a piece of my mind.”

“Y/n you’re crazy!” Harry screamed after you but you kept pedaling.

“I’m not crazy!” You screamed back as you put all your efforts into heading for Tom’s house. “I’m a wife who cares for her husband.” The two boys looked at each other with a smile of disbelief. You did have a point.

“Y/n-” Harrison catched his breath when he finally caught up with you. “Even if you do, they won’t listen to you.” He reasoned.

“I don’t care.” You shook your head. “I want Tom to hear what I have to say - and I want him to understand that he isn’t trapped.” You looked at Harrison. “He has a life with us and his family doesn’t need to control him. He isn’t trapped.” You said again, wishing with everything in you that Tom wouldn’t make a stupid mistake and slip away from you.

You jumped off the bike and threw it in the front yard. You saw the figures of Tom’s father who seemed to be arguing raising his hands as he spoke.

You didn’t think twice before pounding on the door - your heart beating at a thousand miles per hour.

Tom’s mother answered the door. You didn’t say hello, or even a greeting. You rushed into the house and followed the light and voices towards a study.

Tom was sitting on a chair while his father was talking, and when you entered the room - their eyes turned to you.

“Y/n?” Tom sat up as he spotted you but you ignored him and stood in between him and his father. His mother was trying to follow you - saying some kind of apology to her husband and screaming stranger danger.

“Will you shut up!” You screamed at her with annoyance in your voice. She looked at you terrified and melted on the spot. “Why are you doing this?” You made eye contact with his father.

“Sorry?” He blinked in disbelief and crossed his arms as to mentally shield himself.

“Y/n” Tom grabbed your arm but you swatted his hand away.

“I asked you why are you doing this? Why are you ruining your son’s life by forcing him to do things he doesn’t want to?”

“Young lady you have no right to talk to me this way-”

“Why? Because I’m a girl? Because I’m young? Because I don’t know your son as much as you do? Well think again. I’ve spent more time with him and than you probably ever have in your lifetime. ” You screamed feeling every single sexist comment that people had made towards you climb back up and fueling your anger.

“You think that you’re doing the right thing? Pushing your son towards medical studies when he couldn’t give a shit about being a doctor? Making him quit things that make him feel happy? That makes him feel alive? And then you blame it on money. Guilt-tripping him because you wished you had been a doctor instead of that boring job you probably have. You wished you had done something with your pathetic life. You wished you had been to University, you wished you had become a doctor don’t you? You wished you weren’t stuck inside that horrible job. You wished you could please your wife when all you do is actually complain. I bet she complains to her friends about it. And I bet you cheated on her just to feel something.” The whole room was stunned as you read them like a book.

Harry and Harrison were trying to listen from outside and the way you were screaming made it easy for them to catch the conversation.

“Well guess what? Your son isn’t you. If you want to do something with your life then I recommend you use those medical school savings you talk so much about and use it on yourself. Pull your fingers out of your ass and go to school. Let your son live the life he wants. Let him be happy. Don’t bring him down just because you feel like shit. Let him live, even if it means he’d have to live under a bridge or have the biggest villa in the world in 10 years. But let him have a smile on his face because that’s what matters the most.” You felt your eyes getting glossy and you took a deep unstable breath, never losing eye contact with Tom’s father.

He looked at you for what felt like forever but what might have been a split second before raising his hand and smashing it across your face.

The slap was so strong your body turned. You could have swore that your neck had cracked with the speed it had turned. Tom had to catch you so you wouldn’t end up crashing into his father's desk.

“Get out of my house.” He pointed his finger out the door. “Both of you.”

And the next few minutes felt like a blur.

You remembered screaming ‘I cant see’, ‘My head is spinning’ and ‘I think im going to faint’ - Harry and Harrison wincing when they saw the red mark that was slowly turning purple across your cheek.

You were too stunned to speak or think. You were wide awake but it felt like you were sleeping. Your head spinning from probably the biggest slap you were ever given, and the emotion of potentially losing Tom was coming back up all at once.

~

You blinked a few times and looked around. Realizing where you were.

Your hands were wrapped around Tom’s torso as he biked back towards Welton, Harry, and Harrison by your sides.

You took a second to think everything coming back to you. You squeezed Tom, taking in his scent and the fact that he was safe and sound all in.

“Stop the bike.” He pulled on Tom’s shirt so he’d listen to you.

“Darling, we're almost there-”

“Stop the bike right now.” Tom turned to the side and made a halt by the grass.

You took a second to find balance back on your feet and met Tom’s eyes. You looked like you were going to tear up.

“What’s wrong?” Harrison asked as he and Harry rolled their bikes towards you.

“You guys wait on the other side of the road. I have to talk to Tom. Alone.” They took it as their cue to leave.

A minute of silence fell. You had your back towards Tom and you looked down at your shoes. Your shoulders started shaking and he took a step towards you.

“Don’t ever do this to me again!” You screamed as you turned around angrily pointing at him. “Do you realize you might have created a Romeo and Juliet ending? What would have I have been without you?”

“How-”

“I’m not dumb Tom. You of all people should know that." You angrily poked his chest. "Don’t you think I knew what this whole little speech you had prepared for me was?” You screamed at him, this time it got mixed in with sobs. “I’m here for you and I won’t let you go without a fight.” You cried.

He pulled you in his arms and you didn’t fight it. “I know.” He felt the tears come up for himself as he wrapped his arms around you. “You made me realize this tonight.” He hugged you a little tighter. “I’m sorry.” This time he was the one crying. “I wouldn’t have done it” You gripped his shirt so tight your knuckles turned white - too scared he would slip away from you. “The second I saw your face when you tried to stop me back at the theater I knew I wasn’t going to be able to.” He shook his head. “I love you too much to leave you.”

A silence fell as you just held each other. Taking in one another.

“You know when they say for best or for worst?” You let out a shaky breath.

“Yeah?” You gripped his shirt a little tighter.

“Well, I think we’ve just gone through the worst.”

~

You all sat in the middle of the Welton kitchen - a bucket of strawberry ice cream on your purple cheek.

Tom had insisted on holding it up for you. So you nuzzled yourself in his arms feeling your eyes slowly close as the day was finally over.

Tom let out a sigh when he had finally finished explaining your panic to the boys around. They all looked at him with stunned looks - no words able to escape their lips.

“She really saved me in every way that a person can be saved...” He realized as he looked at your sleeping form.

“She really did didn’t she?”

The end :)

~

Taglist - @justifymyfeelings​​ @slytherinambitious​@ourfavoritesergeantbarnes​ @criminaly-supernatural​​ @trustfundparker​ @tomhollandreads​ @prettysbliss​ @ksmy-99​@sarcasticallywitty15 @bi-lmg​ @nerdy-collector-festival​ @lovely-blackinnon​ @hunnybunimdun​​ @playnineteenfifties​​ 

#Tom Holland x reader #Tom Holland x you #Tom Holland x y/n #Tom Holland imagine #Tom Holland #Peter Parker x reader #Peter Parker imagine #imagine #marvel imagine #actor imagine #tom #holland #the end #dead poets society au #dead poets society #dead poets society fan fiction

[twentiethcenturymoviesandtv]

Dead Poets Society: Facets of Filmmaking

For every film that’s ever been created, there’s a story behind its creation.

From pitch to product, writing a script, finding a director and production team, a cast, and everything before, after, and in-between is all part of a huge, collaborative effort to create the final film.  While some projects have simpler stories than others, no movie is ‘easy’ to make, and as a result, even the less interesting production stories were anything but to the people who worked on them.  Whether it’s the famed disaster of The Wizard of Oz or the uneventful filming of Running Scared, every movie has a story behind it, and Dead Poets Society was no exception.

In a way, it’s a bit of an odd film, and it didn’t start out terribly smoothly.

The script was written by Tom Schulman, a man who admittedly didn’t have a lot of experience with East Coast boarding schools of the 1950s, but still managed to imprint his own experiences from a prep school from just outside of Nashville Tennessee into a screenplay.  The character of John Keating was directly inspired by a combination of professors that Schulman had known, and many of the boys were based in part on schoolmates of his.  There was a lot of Schulman in his story, and after he had finished putting the screenplay together, it was time for him to try to find a buyer for his passion project.

Which was easier said than done.

Dead Poets Society was the first script Schulman ever sold (but not the first he wrote), and production companies weren’t exactly chomping at the bit for it.  Many studios rejected the project based entirely on the title, but Schulman stubbornly refused to change it.  Eventually, he found his buyer in Touchstone, a Disney-owned production company newly created (founded in 1984), deliberately designed to appeal to a more mature audience than their animated family pictures.

Once they’d bought the script, Disney wanted changes made.  For one, they suggested that Neil’s passion be dancing, rather than acting.  Other changes they wanted included more focus on Mr. Keating, to make the film a musical, a setting change from Vermont to Georgia, and a title change to Sultans of Swing.  Schulman outright refused, sticking to his guns, and his script.

Despite Schulman’s control over the screenplay itself, Disney had the authority to control other elements, such as casting.

Disney, and Touchstone, were absolutely dead-set on Robin Williams for their Mr. Keating, a decision that ultimately paid off, but at the time of filming, it seemed like it might be their downfall.  Disney went through multiple directors until they found one who agreed with them, scrapping casting ideas such as Liam Neeson and Dustin Hoffman before they found a director who would work with Williams.

Enter Peter Weir.

Australian New Wave director Peter Weir was anxious to continue a winning streak after directing The Year of Living Dangerously, followed by Witness and The Mosquito Coast, (the latter two starring Harrison Ford) with the rom-com script that would later become Green Card, but at the time, Weir was told he’d have to wait a year before he could make the film he really wanted.  This gave him a perfect gap year in which to direct a film, but he was far from the first person called in for Dead Poets Society.

One such director was Jeff Kanew, who had a very specific idea for what he wanted of the film, (he’s the one who wanted Liam Neeson for the role of Mr. Keating) and couldn’t get along with Williams at all.  The first days of shooting were so catastrophic that when Kanew was taken off the project, the sets were literally burned to the ground.

After a few more false starts, in 1988, Tom Schulman eventually helped the studio settle on Peter Weir.  Weir met with Jeffery Katzenberg, from Disney, who gave him the script, and, instantly taken with the project, Weir returned from Australia six weeks after the meeting to begin work on the project.

Schulman and Weir worked well together as a director-scriptwriter team, a seeming rarity in Hollywood, but there were a few changes made even now.  Weir removed a subplot revolving around Keating’s illness, feeling that it was more important that the audience focused on his teachings, rather than his health.  Still, despite a few changes, the filming rolled forward.

Weir worked with the cast to bring out as realistic and genuine performances as possible.  He forbade the cast from using modern slang off set, increasing the authenticity of the performances, and had the boys live together in a dorm to better experience the boarding-school atmosphere they were to be portraying, and encouraged them to study the 1950s.

He didn’t only work with the boys, however.

At the beginning, Robin Williams’s performance was rather stiff, and he seemed uncomfortable in the role.  Weir took Williams aside, and asked him what he wanted to teach this class.  When Williams replied: “Shakespeare”, Weir encouraged him to improvise, ending with the scene that included the Marlon Brando and John Wayne impression.  After this, Williams relaxed into the role, becoming far more comfortable, and compelling as a result.  Williams is estimated to have improvised around 15% of his dialogue for the film as a total.  

In the end, everyone’s efforts paid off.  Dead Poets Society was released on June 2nd, 1989, to great success financially and critically, winning Tom Schulman an Oscar for Best Screenplay and being nominated for three more awards (Best Actor for Robin Williams, Best Director for Peter Weir, and Best Picture overall).  Over thirty years later, it’s still remembered as a classic, a touching coming-of-age story and a film dedicated to the power of words, loved by people of all ages to this day.

And it’ll continue to be beloved as long as the human race has a place for poetry.

We’re almost finished with our study on Dead Poets Society!  Join us next week for our final thoughts, and please leave a like and follow if you want to see more of this kind of content.    Thanks so much for reading, and I hope to see you in the next article!

#80s #1989 #Dead Poets Society #Dead Poets Society 1989 #Film #Movies #Comedy #Drama #PG #Robin Williams #Ethan Hawke #Robert Sean Leonard #Josh Charles #Gale Hansen #Dylan Kussman #Kurtwood Smith #Peter Weir

[440mxs-wife]

Dream a Little Dream

Pairing: Ketch x Reader

Todd Anderson: [stands up on his desk] O Captain! My Captain!

You sniffled and felt the tears starting to form in your eyes. Even though you know what happens next, it's only a matter of time before the waterworks will start in earnest.

Mr. Nolan: Sit down, Mr. Anderson! Do you hear me? Sit down! Sit down! This is your final warning, Anderson. How dare you? Do you hear me?

Knox Overstreet: [climbs up onto his desk] O Captain! My Captain!

Mr. Nolan: Mr. Overstreet, I warn you! Sit down!

[Pitts climbs onto his desk, followed by Meeks, then over half the class, one by one]

At this point, tears are streaming down your cheeks. You wipe them away with the heel of your hand.

Mr. Nolan: Sit down! Sit down. All of you. I want you seated. Sit down. Leave, Mr.  Keating. All of you, down. I want you seated. Do you hear me? Sit down!

Mr. Keating: Thank you, boys. Thank you.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You reached for your box of tissues to wipe away the rest of your tears and blew your nose as the end credits rolled. Dead Poets Society was your favorite movie, the one you always watched with Ruthie, your best friend since high school. It was the one that always had you both in tears at the end.

Before you became a hunter, you wanted to be a teacher, to find that one-in-a-million kid that you knew would do great things. A run-in with a monster changed all of that for you, basically crushing that dream.

While you were in college, a skinwalker decided to impersonate one of your professors. Students got called into this professor's office to discuss the latest class assignment and were never seen again. Your roommate had met with him one Tuesday afternoon and she was killed. This was the incident that caught the Winchesters' attention.

You met Sam and Dean when they questioned you about your roommate's death. It was a few days before your own scheduled meeting with the professor. You agreed to act as bait so that no more lives would be lost. You went to your meeting as planned. Just before the skinwalker transformed to attack you, Sam and Dean barged in and killed it.

From then on, they took you under their wing and trained you to be a hunter. You already had excellent researching skills, being fresh out of school. As a retired hunter, your father saw to your weapons education from when you were 10 years old.

Dean trained you in self-defense, while Sam was responsible for your strength and conditioning. In return, you were chief cook and bottle-washer, with laundry, nursing and research duties on the side. The boys always raved about your home-cooking, and you taught yourself basic doctoring skills for the more serious injuries.

Every year, no matter what you and Ruthie were doing, you watched the movie together and texted back and forth as it played. You both always had popcorn and a box of tissues nearby. Sometimes, Sam and Dean would wander through the living room area and stop to watch a bit of the movie. After a while, they left, shaking their heads at you. As the credits rolled, you called Ruthie and talked for a bit. Before you hung up, you promised each other to get together soon, said your "I love you's" and went back to your separate lives.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam and Dean came down the spiral staircase, grocery bags in hand. You gathered up your tissues and headed towards the kitchen to help put away the supplies. They noticed your eyes were all red and puffy, and exchanged glances between them.

You noticed their facial expressions and lightly chuckled. "I'm fine, fellas, really. Ruthie and I just finished our annual viewing of Dead Poets Society," you explained.

Dean snorted. "Haven't you two watched that movie like, a hundred times? You both know how it ends, you both cry at the end, so why do you watch it over and over?" he asked.

You shrugged. "I don't know, Dean. It's something we've always done, just once a year, and it's a great movie," you replied. "I always wanted to be a teacher. Someone who finds and inspires that one kid who goes on to do great things in life. All because someone had faith," you remarked softly.

As you finished, you heard someone behind you, clearing his throat. "Pardon me, but where shall I put these?" he asked, gesturing to the grocery bags in his hands.

Your eyes grew wide and your hand covered your mouth as you realized who it was behind you. Arthur Ketch, you thought. What the hell is he doing here?!? I can't let him see me like this, with red, puffy eyes. I gotta get out of here, you thought. You kept your head down and stepped to the side to let Ketch get through to the kitchen. Then you backed your way out and once clear, you hurried to your room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When you determined that the kitchen was clear, you surveyed the contents of the newly-stocked fridge and pantry. You wanted to see what the boys brought home that you could use to make dinner. Sam wandered in a few minutes later, looking for something to drink. "So, what was all that about earlier?" he asked.

"I don't understand, what do you mean, Sam?" you asked.

"You were all fine until Ketch showed up behind you. Then you went running out of here like some teenage girl with her first cr--" he stopped short and grinned widely. "That's it, isn't it?? You have a crush on Arthur Ketch!" Sam gloated.

"Shut up, Sam, I do not!" you hissed.

"Oh, you so do. I saw your face, you went white as a sheet," Sam smirked.

"What is he doing here anyway?" you snapped.

"He's helping us with some case we caught that involves a djinn a couple of towns over. Heard it's pretty powerful, so we'll need all hands on deck. By the way, he will be here for dinner, so....hope you're making something good," he grinned.

You groaned. "I was just trying to figure that out. Hmm....I should make that Cheesy Broccoli and Chicken Casserole," you remarked. Sam shrugged and said that was fine with him, so you started to pull the items out of the fridge and pantry.

Once all of the ingredients were assembled, you put dinner in the oven and set the timer for 45 minutes. This gave you enough time to get yourself cleaned up. You didn't have a chance to shower before your annual movie watch with Ruthie.

After your shower, you pulled on a pair of faded blue jeans, your red sweater and slipped on your red tennis shoes. As you were walking back into the kitchen, you heard the oven timer going off. Dinner was done baking, so you removed it from the oven and hurried up to set the table.

You served a portion to each man, then you served yourself. You ate slowly, looking around at each of the guys, trying to determine how much they liked dinner. Judging by the lack of conversation, you figured that it was a success. When the pan was cleaned out, all three of the guys sat back in their chairs, having eaten their fill.

"Wow, that was great! Even better than the last time you made it," Dean remarked, patting his now-full stomach.

"Great suggestion," Sam added.

You thanked them for the complements and waited to hear from the man whose opinion interested you the most. When you didn't hear anything for a few minutes, you picked up some dishes and took them to the kitchen to be washed.

Ketch watched you leave the table with the dirty dishes. He had to admit, it had been a while since he'd had home cooking like that. And prepared by such a beautiful chef, as well.

"Top-notch cuisine, chaps. Do you eat like that all the time?" Ketch asked.

"Oh, yeah, we've got the best cook in the hunting world. If you think tonight's meal was good, wait until you have breakfast. She makes the best pancakes I've ever tasted," Dean remarked.

"Really. Well, here's to pancakes in the morning," Ketch grinned, holding up his scotch for a toast.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Ketch agreed to help the Winchester brothers with this djinn, he looked at it as an   opportunity to escape boredom. Things on the hunter front were quiet  in his sector, so he jumped at Sam's invitation to work this case. Of   course, boredom wasn't the only reason. Little did you know, he was looking forward to a chance to see you again.

The first time he'd met you, it was on a mission to take out a nest of vampires that had taken multiple hostages. You, Ketch, Sam and Dean all entered the house, but from opposite directions. With the top floor cleared, you all headed down to the basement.

Your part in the mission was to check on the victims and determine who could be saved and who couldn't be. Of the ten that were taken, only four could be saved. You released the four, who Sam and Dean helped up the stairs to wait for you, since they hadn't lost too much blood.

As you released the last hostage, a female vamp attacked you. There wasn't enough time to slice off her head with your machete, so you punched her instead. She stumbled backwards, giving you enough time to regain your stance and separate her head from the rest of her body.

You then looked up to see that Ketch was locked in battle with a vamp himself, but his blade was out of his reach. You yelled at him to get down, giving you a clear shot at severing the vamp's head and keeping Ketch from being bitten. He nodded at you in gratitude, and you gave him a wink and a mock salute before returning to battle.

Ketch smiled as he thought about that first mission. Your paths crossed from time to time on hunts over the past couple of years, but nothing really came of it. You shared a drink or two in celebration of a successful hunt, but then you both went your separate ways.

To Ketch, that was really a shame. Because as tough as you were in a fight, he could see that you had a softer side as well. You were a woman who showed her love to her family through her cooking. Who cried at watching the same movie over and over again with her best friend. Who wanted to be a teacher to inspire the younger generation to go out and do great things, follow their dreams. Oh, he thought, I'll just bet there's a wealth of passion locked within that 5'3" frame of hers. Just waiting for the right man to bring it out. And tonight,  he decided that he wanted to be that man.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After the dinner dishes had been washed, you noticed that Sam, Dean and Ketch were still at the table, talking. You stopped briefly at the table, wished each man goodnight and headed towards your room. As you passed by Ketch, he caught your hand in his then brushed his lips gently across the back. This caused you to turn and face him, blushing furiously. "Lovely dinner, darling. Must see what I can do to be invited back for more of your excellent cuisine," he winked and smiled at you.

"Th-thank you, Arthur. I'm glad you liked it," you replied softly. "By the way, gents, I made some chocolate chip cookies earlier. They're in the kitchen, if anyone gets a sweet tooth later on tonight. Goodnight everyone," you said.

Once in your room, while you absently removed your shoes, you thought about that last interaction with Ketch. He kissed the back of my hand, you thought. A grin slowly crept across your face. And, he wants to have dinner with me--us--again some night. You shook your head and your smile fell as your self-doubt crept in. Nah, he doesn't mean anything by it. He could have his choice of any woman in the world. Why on earth would he choose me? you silently wondered.

You changed into your teddy bear pajama pants and a T-shirt, then climbed into bed. You picked up your book from your nightstand and settled in to read a few pages. However, your thoughts drifted towards the handsome Brit currently drinking with Sam and Dean. The man with the smoldering blue-grey eyes, the strong jawline with enough of a 5 o'clock shadow to be sexy. Dark brown hair you were itching to run your fingers through as his lips plundered yours. You shook your head. Enough torture, you thought as you turned out the light to try and sleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Back out at the table, Sam, Dean and Ketch were having an after-dinner drink, along with some of the cookies you had baked. When the subject of you came up, Dean turned and said something to Ketch. "Dude, you must like her or something, 'cause you sure were getting your flirt on," Dean smirked.

"Really? Dean, don't be absurd. Can't afford to have entanglements, you know that," Ketch scoffed as he took a generous gulp of his whiskey. Even as he said this, he realized there was some truth to Dean's words.

"I don't know, Ketch. She's a pretty tough hunter, as I'm sure you know. And you've just seen firsthand what she can do in the kitchen. I tell you, man, it's nothing short of magic," Sam interjected.

Ketch had started to feel a slight buzz from the second scotch he was drinking. He paused to consider Sam and Dean's words before adding his own to the conversation. "Well, lads. Here's the thing. I think she's an amazing woman. She's smart, kind, has a gentle soul and a great sense of humor. Not to mention she has mad cooking skills and she's gorgeous," he finished.

"Sounds like someone has a bit of a crush on a certain lady hunter after all," Dean observed with a smirk.

"Perhaps so, Dean. Might possibly have to stick around here for a while, to see what happens," Ketch winked.

About an hour later, the boys all called it a night, and headed to their respective rooms to sleep. Only Ketch couldn't fall asleep right away, because his thoughts were all about you. He thought about your short, wavy brown hair, your hazel eyes and perfect pink lips, almost begging him to take a taste. He wondered how your skilled hands would feel as they ran over the surface of his skin or your fingers through his hair.

When he could no longer stand it, he got up out of bed for a drink of water. He paused in the doorway at seeing your figure leaning against the counter. You were looking down at your phone and absently drinking from a water bottle. He watched as you looked around, put your phone in your pocket and quietly opened the back door that led outside. Ketch decided to follow you, thinking this may be his best opportunity to speak with you without Sam and Dean around.

Once outside, your gaze turned towards the sky and the millions of stars. Your eyes were wide with child-like wonder, leaving Ketch to wonder what you may be thinking. Suddenly, he heard a rustling from behind the trees. He was horrified to see a dark figure with glowing blue eyes and skin approach you from behind.

Before Ketch could react, you had disappeared without a trace. All that was left was your bottle of water, its contents leaking out onto the ground when it fell from your hand. He knew at once that it was the djinn you all were hunting that had taken you. By stepping outside of the bunker, you were no longer protected by its warding, so the djinn made its move. Ketch ran back inside to alert Sam and Dean of your disappearance.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"What the hell was she doing outside anyway?? It's 2:30 in the morning!!" Dean thundered.

"I don't know, Dean. One minute she's leaning against the counter, looking at her phone and drinking from a bottle of water. The next minute, she's sneaking out the back door. I followed her to see what she was doing. But the djinn took off with her before I had a chance to grab hold of her hand. Sorry, lads," Ketch replied, his gaze dropping to the floor.

"Look, we have to focus on finding her. These things generally make their home in abandoned warehouses, where it's dark and there's lots of space. Sam, do a search for any of those within a 30-mile radius from here," Dean ordered. He clapped a hand on Ketch's shoulder. "Hey, Ketch, it's not your fault. We'll get her back, don't worry," Dean assured him, then left the room to pack a bag of supplies.

Sam tapped away at his laptop, to see if he could track the signal from your phone. While the online search was processing, he looked up at Ketch. "You like her, don't you?" he asked.

"Let's just say, she intrigues me. She's unlike any woman I've ever known," Ketch started, looking off into the distance. "To do this job for so long and still have a sense of wonder about the stars? To watch the same movie year after year with one's best friend, knowing how it ends and she's still emotional about it? That's endearing," Ketch finished.

Sam grinned. "Yeah, she's pretty special. By the way, she'd probably slap me for telling you this, but....you 'intrigue' her too," he admitted.

Ketch looked at Sam upon hearing this. "Thank you, Sam," he replied with a small smile.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You opened your eyes to the gentle sunlight streaming through the lacy curtains waving at the window. You sat up with a start to take in the rest of your surroundings. Fluffy pillows, soft mattress, flower-printed bedspread. This is not my bedroom back in the bunker, you thought. Where the hell am I? you asked yourself.

You turned to look at the nightstand for your phone, and your eyes landed on a picture frame. It looked like a wedding picture. Upon closer examination, it was a wedding picture....YOUR wedding picture. And the groom was none other than Arthur Ketch. You closed your eyes and fell back down onto the mattress. You quickly looked to your left hand to see a gorgeous diamond and white gold bridal set on your ring finger.

In walked Arthur, your husband, who was fixing his tie. "Darling, if you don't get up now and get dressed, you'll be late for work," his voice gently chided. He leaned over and kissed your cheek.

"Work?" you managed to croak out. Dear Chuck, he's a handsome gent. You hoped that your observation was only expressed in your head and not out of your mouth.

"It's your first day of school as the new English teacher at John F Kennedy Senior High School." he reminded you. Ketch must have seen the confusion on your face. "Are you all right, Love?" he asked.

"I-I'm fine, just not quite awake yet. I'm okay, getting up now," you said, giving him a quick smile. You swung your legs over the side of the bed, and when your feet hit the carpet, they sank into its luxuriousness. You walked over to the closet and tried to decide what to wear. You wanted something that would hopefully not draw too much attention to yourself. At least not until you could figure out exactly what was going on here.

You pulled on your navy blue pinstriped skirt and paired it with a pale blue button-up blouse. "Here, allow me," Arthur gently turned you around to face him so he could fasten the buttons for you. "Although, I'd rather leave it unbuttoned. Easier access, you know," he whispered. His index finger lightly traced your jawline and hooked under your chin. He tilted your face up so you could look into each others' eyes. Your palms ran up the length of his chiseled chest, then your fingers locked behind his head to pull him closer.

Just as Ketch was about to mesh his lips with yours, a searing pain hit your head, then you lost your footing. A vision of a dark and dirty warehouse passed before your eyes. In the corner, you saw yourself tied to a rack with tubes running from your arms. Djinn, you thought. I've been captured by the djinn we were supposed to be hunting.

You looked at Ketch and could see his mouth moving, but no sound was coming out. Finally, you heard his voice calling your name, asking if you were all right. You laid a hand on his upper arm and assured him you were fine. He wrapped you in his arms, pulling you up so you were close to his chest. You leaned back slightly from his embrace to look into his blue-grey eyes. "Shall we try that again?" you asked in a sultry voice.

You wound your hands around so they were clasped behind his head again. You gently tugged him closer, though he needed no encouragement. Your lips met in a kiss that started slow and sweet, then turned a bit more insistent, driven by need. When you broke apart, you were both trying to catch your breath. "You little minx," he grinned. "Just you wait until tonight, Love," he said as he tapped the end of your nose.

Ketch retrieved his suit coat from the back of the chair, while you finished getting dressed. As you were stepping into your shoes, he said, "Don't forget, we have reservations at Ravelli's tonight at 7 o'clock."

"All right, thank you for the reminder. Wait, are we celebrating something tonight?" you asked.

"Sweetheart, are you sure you're all right? I thought for sure you'd remember it was your birthday. Sam, Dean and your parents will all be there," Ketch explained. "By the way," he took your hand in his and pulled you closer. "Happy Birthday, Love," he whispered, brushing his lips on yours.

"Thank you, Arthur," you responded, as your cheeks turned red. "I love you," you replied softly.

"I love you, my blushing bride," he grinned. "Have a good first day of school, darling. I'll see you tonight," he promised.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Hey, Dean? Ketch? I got something! I tracked her phone to an abandoned warehouse about 25 miles from here," Sam called.

"All right, let's pack up and get going, we probably don't have much time," Dean said grimly. He did a final weapons check, then the men piled into the Impala and sped off to find you.

Ketch was in the backseat, his mind consumed by thoughts of you. Hoping they would get there in time to save you. Promising himself that when you were rescued, that he would take care of you and keep you safe. More importantly, he was going to tell you how he felt.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You had an amazing first day of school. Your students seemed to hang on your every word, and they were pleased to have no homework from you that first day. You reviewed the syllabus, only to have the conversation turn into more of a get-to-know-you discussion. In your last class of the day, you let it slip that it was your birthday, so your students sang to you. You couldn't wait to go home and tell your husband all about it.

Before you drove home, you were once again hit with the vision of a dark and empty warehouse. You could hear signs of a struggle nearby, like a fistfight going on. Soon, a man with a British accent came over to you, whispering that everything was going to be all right. He had some cuts and bruises on his face, some blood on his clothes, but he worked gently to free your hands and arms. As soon as you were disconnected, your knees gave out, but he caught you and carried you out to the car.

You sat in your car in the empty school parking lot, trying to get your bearings after the vision. The more you thought about it, the more you recognized the man who rescued you. His face and his voice matched that of your husband in this life. The car was Dean's beloved Impala.

It became clearer to you that you didn't belong here. You had to get out before the djinn managed to completely drain you, which you knew would kill you. Before you left for the restaurant, you went into the kitchen to grab a knife and slipped it into your purse. You knew the only way out was to die in the djinn world so you would wake up in the real world.

At the restaurant, everyone offered their toasts to your birthday. You blushed at Arthur's heartfelt declaration of his love for you, today and every day. Tears sprang to your eyes, knowing that while you would never have this in the real world, you didn't belong here either. You excused yourself to the restroom, bringing your purse with you. Once inside, you brought out the knife, took one last look in the mirror and plunged the blade into your stomach.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Sam! Dean! She's over here!" Ketch shouted. You mumbled something, to which Ketch responded, "Shh, darling, don't talk. You're going to be all right." He disconnected the tubes running out of your arms, then untied your wrists from the rack. Your knees buckled, but he caught you before you hit the floor.

Ketch scooped you up and carried you out to the Impala. Dean jumped into the driver's seat and started the engine. Sam helped place you carefully in the backseat, then Ketch got into the back with you. He cradled you in his arms, almost as if he was afraid to let you go. Sam got into the front seat and Dean drove off for home. Ketch placed soft kisses to your temple, while you mumbled nonsense.

Once back in the bunker, you were taken directly to the infirmary to tend to your wounds and get some rest. Sam and Dean stayed out of the way, as Ketch insisted on patching you up himself. He treated your wounds with a business-like manner, and tried not to let his emotions show. He felt somehow responsible for your abduction in the first place. He hated to see you in such a vulnerable state, because to him, you were always so strong.

While Ketch was stitching up your left arm, you put your right hand on his cheek and stroked it with your thumb. "Arthur," you whispered. He paused and looked into your eyes. "I'm all right. You found me and got me out of there safely. To me, that's all that matters," you finished, giving him a soft smile.

He took hold of your hand that was resting on his cheek, and curled his fingers around yours. "I know you'll be all right, Love. But I should have done more to protect you so that this didn't happen in the first place," he replied, his eyes cast downward.

You sat up enough so you were resting on your elbows. "Ketch, look at me. I'm not some fragile, delicate flower that needs tending. I am a hunter, and I realize that with being a hunter, there are certain risks. This was not your fault, by any means. I'm just thankful you found me so quickly," you remarked.

"Well....I saw you go out the door, so I followed you. I was hoping to have a few words with you without Sam and Dean hovering about. Then I saw you disappear with the djinn, and....my heart dropped because you were in danger," Ketch responded.

Your heartbeat quickened as you let Ketch's words sink in. You were curious, so you voiced the only question on your mind. "Sam and Dean aren't around now, so....what did you want to say, Arthur?" you asked warily.

Ketch paused before answering, making you think that maybe you shouldn't have asked. Then he leaned closer to you, his thumb caressing your cheek this time. "You are the most intriguing woman I've ever met. You are also kind,"--(kiss)--"smart,"--(kiss)--"strong"--(kiss)--"and"--(kiss)--"beautiful," he replied with a smile.

You shifted again so you were sitting fully upright and placed your hands on Ketch's shoulders. "I also have a confession. When I was under from the djinn, you were in my vision. We were a bit more than friends," you said nervously.

"Really? Hmm," Ketch commented. "I suppose I would be all in for making your dream a reality," he smirked. "I hereby apply for a transfer to the Kansas Division of the Men of Letters. To serve the remainder of my commission under the command of the Winchesters and their lovely lady hunter," he declared.

"Well, I don't care what Sam and Dean say, but I wholeheartedly approve of your transfer. In fact, I'd say it's effective immediately," you said huskily. You leaned forward and closed the gap by meshing your lips with his. Ketch cupped your face with his hands and you wound your arms around his neck. Your mouths moved together, your lips slightly parted for Ketch's tongue to move in and explore.

The sound of two people clapping broke your kiss. "I told you so!" Sam exclaimed. You buried your face in Ketch's shoulder as he cradled you close to his side. Both Winchesters then shook their heads and left the two of you alone in the infirmary.

"Welcome home, Arthur," you remarked softly.

"Home sweet home, darling," Ketch replied as he moved in for another kiss.

#arthur ketch #ketch x reader #spn imagines #spn fluff

[maritimeericandersen]

BDRP Questionnaire 

Your Name: Sidney

Characters: Eric Andersen, Clara Baudry (Euterpe), Ferb Fletcher, Pedram Ratigan, Laszlo Robinson

Pick one of your characters and talk about their growth (we recommend choosing an older character, but it’s up to you!) What about their story has surprised you? What are you proud of? How have they changed from their original inception to now?

If we’re going by oldest characters, then Eric it shall be!! 

As far as growth, I think the major thing that I’ve really enjoyed is getting him to be self sufficient and taking care of things he wasn’t used to before being out on his own. Eric had always been one of those kids who got to take a back seat to planning anything! Like doctors or dentists appointments. He never had to deal with the bank or paying for things like his phone or the internet. And for Eric, a simple boy, if it isn’t right in front of him he doesn’t think about it. Out of sight, out of mind, baby! So him being out here on his own has put all of those things in his direct line of sight. Getting new clothes, shoes, food, water, balancing all of this on a limited budget. You know, taking care of himself.  I know the bare minimum is certainly a ridiculous thing to be proud of someone for, but here I am lmao. 

Obviously a big part of him having not perished and just going back home was Mr. Moon!! Huge thank you to Lauryl and Jun for taking pity on me and Eric when we first got here lmfao.  Eric getting a job, food, boarding, and pity taken on him got him started! And getting a pep talk to actually apply and go to university! Where he’s carving out a future for himself that he chose to do and that wasn’t influenced thinking about the Order or his family or anything but him! 

I also really enjoy all the friendships he has made!!! Ollie! And Alice, and Ian, and HARU, and Henry, (but Henry he already sort of had but I’m super jazzed to see where those two can go,) and although I’ve never done a thread with any one on the volleyball team (besides Jake and Olaf, but not in the context of them being on a team!!) I’m sure Eric assumes they’re all the Very Best of Friends. So I really love that he has friends and a little community of people that he can show for himself!! 

And Eric really hasn’t changed from my original thinking of him. I don’t know if this is a good thing or a bad thing but he was always supposed to be that kid in class who showed up a little late and asked if he could borrow a pencil. I think, if anything, the things around him in his story have changed a bit in my own brain in order to fit in to the universe of BDRP now that I’ve been here a little longer (almost a year!!!) to have a better understanding of how the world works!! But yeah, all and all, he is still on the original path I had for him going into this. 

Pick another character (or the same character if you only have one) and talk a little about where you WANT them to go. What are your plans for them going into the new year?

Moving on to Clara:

What I want for her, personally, is to soften up and lean into her more excitable side. The one that isn’t so concerned with money or the way she looks or what other people are perceiving her to be. I want her to open up more!! Being a Muse will be super helpful to her because I think for a character to help someone else, they’re going to need to have a bit more vulnerability to them? Like, all mentor or helper type characters have to gain some semblance of trust from the person they're helping to get them to see that they aren’t in an environment to be judged or taken advantage of. Right? Like uh, Obi Wan isn’t necessarily up front with Luke about everything but he gives him many truths, like how he and his father were very good friends, so Luke trusts him! Or when Professor Keating is vulnerable with his students, telling them about how love and poetry and those deep dark feelings inside of you are what life is all about, and they trusted him wholeheartedly!

In order to do that, she’s going to need to let go of her own fears!! And grow! I want to see her learn that part of being people’s friends, or when being someone’s guide as a Muse. I think her coming to understand that sharing her story and history will be very helpful in her journey to becoming this generation’s Euterpe. I want to see her come into her more active magic by developing emotionally! Working through her anger and letting go of that to make more room for the part of her that wants to connect and be around people. 

I am also really excited to see where her connections take her in the coming future! The Groove Room as her first helping gig to Ber! Being in a band!! Working at Tiana’s place and performing original music there!!! Getting to talk more with Franny, her idol!!!, will be fantastic for her. I’m so super duper excited to see where she goes. 

Pick a thread or a plot that you’re proud of and talk about why you loved it. 

This is an insane question because I genuinely love them all so much you guys 😭 

For Eric: Any thread he’s had with Jun since that has helped move Eric along in getting to be his Own Person and getting his act together. Again, thank you Jun! I really really enjoyed his first interaction with Lou? I thought that thread was hilarious and yet cringed the entire time writing it because Eric is such a ridiculous person. I also liked his thread with Olaf when they went on the tour of the university!! Their conversation about the gryphons was really a challenge on Eric and having to think about hunting from the perspective of the other side, which he had never really done before. Also just him having a genuine and intelligent conversation with a fairy who is now also playing a sport with him has probably been very helpful to him!!! I love his threads with Haru because getting to write his reactions to her learning about the human world always brings me such delight. All this threads with Ollie are great because I get to write that part of Eric that is just a dumb boy hanging out with his bestie!! I love that so much since he’s so much more relaxed and I find their banter to be an easy back and forth. Getting to meet Isa for the first time was a blast, I really enjoyed their interaction. Most recently I was super de duper in love with him and Henry’s re-meeting. I hadn’t had a chance for him to really face the Order without him having to go all the way back to everyone, so getting that connection with Henry was a good inbetween and getting to write him talking to someone who knows the life and his plight was so cathartic for him! 

For Clara: Any thread between her and Franny is so fun!! Her first meeting with Franny was great because I got to try and capture one of those moments that’s like, you know and adore this person and they’ve done so much for you but they have noooo idea who the hell you are. So that was a lot of fun for me, not so much for Clara lmfao, but hey it was the first step in getting her to this stage in her relationship with Franny, which she never thought she would even have!!! I really liked the two threads she got to have with Callie before she departed, it was very kind of Pet to give me those moments of giving Clara the knowledge of what/who she was!! Otherwise she would be walking around, still in the dark about her magic! OH, I loved the thread with her and Mei Q. !! I think it was important for her to get the advice of being open to people from an outside, neutral source who had no stake in Clara at all other than to just tell her what was up. Even if she didn’t really trust it lmao, it planted the seeds in her brain. I also really liked her thread with Imelda where she was trying to finagle the truth about her and O’Malley out of her lmfao. It was a challenge for me to think of dialogue that wouldn’t give her away, so that was very fun!!! And thank you Imelda for not firing her! And then of course, her thread with Ber and getting him to let her help her with the Groove Room! It gave me a chance to use her magic and start to explore the beginnings of how she is going to approach being a Muse while also giving her the first taste of adventure. Getting to write a Clara whose mind isn’t wrapped up in her account balance and is instead thinking about the love of life is always a very fun time for me, so that thread has been nice to write. 

For Ferb: Literally any thread with his siblings. I want to take this moment to personally thank Emma and MK for giving me the Flynn’s in the span of ?? like four months?? Which was insane to me, because when I was writing his app I was like, “I will probably never get my siblings, and I will just have to accept that.” but then bam, next thing I know, there they were. So anything with them has been like my dreams come true. I loved his thread with Mei K. asking him to prom via sign!!! Too pure. The thread with Su when she was helping him work through what being a sibling is like and then cementing their friendship was really good because it got him to open up and doing that with Ferb seemed ?? impossible to me, so getting to write that was wonderful! Also his thread with JJ! Getting to gush about sign language was so much fun for for me, so thank you so much, Bee for giving me that opportunity!!! His and Vanessa’s thread at the carnival was really fun, too, especially since I made it my personal goal in that one to cut any dialogue from him and work on how he communicates without using words in that sort of fast paced situation where he couldn’t use his phone to know what she was saying, so, I thoroughly enjoyed that one, too. 

For Ratigan: I honestly find any interaction with Ratigan to be a blessing to me because I genuinely feel terrible for asking for threads with him since he is so mean. His thread with Tiana and getting her to take up his offer on a loan was awesome, especially since it was one of the first things I got to write with him!! Very much appreciate Emma for willing to put Tiana in that position! It also gave me the thread with him and Simba, which was really funny since they are such opposites and getting to write Ratigan playing nice but secretly envying everything that Simba is/has was really interesting. Both his threads with Errol of course because it just gives me the opportunity to write him being the mean spirited person that he is. I adored his thread with Franny when she told him the news that she was pregnant!!! It gave me the chance to reflect on him and his relationship with her and the fact that he actually does like her and would snipe anyone who came for her. Not that he would admit that at all. LOVE his threads with Bianca, them staring one another down like a pair of cowboys waiting to see who will draw first has been so much fun to write!! I love writing that part of him as his paranoia knows no bounds. And his thread with Zira?? Has been immaculate because writing him in a place where he doesn’t think he is the superior one in the room would never happen in any other context, so I absolutely love getting to write him getting put in his place lmao. Also, having just finished the AU thread with LP was really fun!!! I liked getting to play into the tropes and the campiness of the spy genre and getting to see what he would act like in the face of genuine emotion. 

For Laszlo: Literally all this threads lol. Writing Laszlo brings me such joy, as he is such a ray of sunshine. Him and Lachlann were a hoot and a half. I looooooooooved him and Eilonwy!! Both because she is such a treat but also because getting to write about him witnessing magic being put into his art while speaking to the person behind the magic was fantastic for what he wants to do in the future! Both his threads with Simba have been great, I love their vibe so much. The three-way thread between him, Lou, and Tiana for the mural was super fun!! I got my first taste into what discussing art would be like while also getting to think about how Laszlo would approach art while getting help from two other voices, so that whole thing was just chef kisses. His thread with Cornelius right now has been really lovely, I like getting to write them having a fun time together and being bros!! His threads with Franny have been so good, I adore them so much, their relationship is so fun to write. And of course, Marlin, too!! Their first thread was really fun and gave me the opportunity to write comedy as well as trying to figure out how he would react to embarrassment and all that. His thread with his mum is still coming along but I am in loVE with it so far. Petunia is the best, so getting to write with her and trying to figure out how that relationship has developed with them both being adults now has really been such a delight for me. I’m so happy because, bruh, like Ferb, when I was applying for him I told myself I would probably never get his intimidate family and that was going to be okay. Now look at us, who would have thought- 

In terms of your own writing, identify 1-3 strengths and talk about why you think it’s one of your strengths.

Warning: Cop Out Ahead

Hmmm, I think the only strength I can think of  would just be that I’m open to changes? I have no problems in people damaging my ego because I simply do not have one lmao. There’s really nothing I will be offended at needing to move around or change to fit. I like being able to hear what other people have to say about my writing, even if it’s to do something completely different with where I was going because I wouldn’t have ever thought to do it like that!! Which I’ve learned in rp is super great since there are so many people here with so many different ideas and perspectives and characters and it brings me such joy to hear you all talk and collab and read what you’ve written!!!! 

In terms of your own writing, identify 1-3 areas of improvement.

Oh gosh, where to even begin. 

1. I’m terrible with metaphors and comparisons lmaooo. I will attempt to write something lyrical or flowery and then I’ll come back to it and be like:

so that I definitely need to get better at!! Stop comparing things that don’t make sense!! Also not just using them to make my point as clear as glass. I think a big portion of why I write terrible, embarrassing metaphors is because I’m scared of being misunderstood so I feel like I have to give everyone a giant neon sign saying what I mean like seven times over. When in reality, everyone here is an intelligent individual who also writes very well so they will have no problem figuring out what I mean because, in all honestly, whatever I am writing isn’t going to be that convoluted!! 

2. My sentence structures are always all over the fucking place. I do run ons, fragments, repetitive, I do all the sins baby. I need to clean it up and get my act together. Which brings me to my next point,

3. Editing. I’m very terrible at editing my own work because a lot of the time I don’t want to read my own writing so it makes me reluctant to go back over and check what I did. But then when I DO go back and read it to remember what I did for a reply, I read all the easy mistakes I could have fixed which means the person I’m writing with read it, too, which makes me cringe more and makes me not want to read what I wrote all over again, and then it is just one massive positive feedback loop that ends with unedited work and a bunch of nonsense left for someone to interpret. I gotta stop it!! I either need to get some self confidence somehow or just suck it up and get to editing more so people don’t have to suffer for my mistakes. 

Pick one of your plots, or even just a character, and come up with a list of 3-5 “mentor texts” where you can look for inspiration or research, then write a short (2-4 sentences) why you picked those texts. (They don’t have to be books, either!)

I feel like I’m back at school doing a Work Cited page lmao. But okay, for Ratigan: 

Of course, the most obvious: The Adventure of the Final Problem by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Thank god this was a short story, lmao. Honestly, reading it you could tell a bitch was just trying to put a wrap on it because Doyle doesn’t really go into detail about anything besides Holmes and Watson’s road trip. Like it never goes into detail about the big back and forth game between Holmes and Moriarty, it just tells us that they had one and this story takes place at the end of it. We only ever get Moriarty through Holme’s storytelling and from afar from Watson’s point of view. So it’s kind of funny that this guy, who appears in one short story and only mentioned in one other book, who had barely any character besides being smart, has been turned into this notorious villain name. I mean….his power….

Anyways, the reason I read it was because Ratigan is the Moriarty of Basil of Baker street, so I figured it would be useful to read the source material since my only experience with the character was Andrew Scott’s in Sherlock the show and then Jared Harris’ in Sherlock Holmes: Game of Shadows, who I still reference since I think he was a brilliant casting choice and is closest to the guy described in the story besides the guy who played Niles in the Nanny showing up as him in that one episode of Star Trek Next Gen lmfao. It was actually very helpful when trying to think of how to adapt him into a person rather than a cartoon rat. It gave me more insight into the criminal world aspect of his plot, too,  and how he ran it and everything: “ He sits motionless, like a spider in the center of its web, but that web has a thousand radiations, and he knows well every quiver of each of them.” So that made me think, well why wouldn’t he want to be involved? Why would he want to sit pretty instead of being involved with things like Ratigan? Well, if I made him do it at one point and know that he hated it, then he would do everything in his power to not have to do stuff like that ever again. Hence why he was an assassin and why he worked his way to the top. This also gave him credibility and made people fear him. I also liked how petty the character was. Like the whole part about him trying to kill Holmes and paying someone to push a brick off a roof or run him over with a carriage had me laughing. “Kill him in the dumbest way to make his obituary look ridiculous!!” But yeah, aha, this was mainly very helpful to me when trying to think of how his criminal background would work. 

Die Hard (1988) because Hans Gruber baby!! He is one of my fave og villains for many reasons! He’s calculated, witty, intelligent, and dangerous. The movie does a good job of not just telling us these things, but showing us! In his scheme, in his back up plans, shooting the glass upon knowing a bitch is barefoot in there, and trying to get McClane to trust him by improvising in three seconds flat. Obviously the best part is when the police think they’ve got him on his heels by cutting the power when actually that was the plan all along to get into the vault since he knows their protocols!!! I really like that clever and planned out approach to crime and villainy for Ratigan (even if I am too dumb to know what I am doing (^: )  Like Hans, he doesn’t think that what he is doing is for the Great Good or that what he is doing is the right thing. He is fully aware that he is not a good person! He had the chance to get out, but it was of his own volition to go back to that life. I took that villain approach to Ratigan from Hans in that there is no complex reason as to why he does what he does. He’s not like the big purple grape who thinks he has to do it as a favor to the universe, he just wants money and to live comfortably, the end.

Person of Interest, for a lot of reasons actually, but mainly for the character of Elias!! And his whole organized crime operation. He is among that smart and calculated villain trope (even though he wasn’t really a villain over the course of the show lmao.) What I liked about him was that he went into the life of crime because he knew that was how things were going to get done in the world. Watching the show you see the hierarchy of the criminal underground and how he cultivated crime into an organized and sort of civil matter when given rules and regulations!! His overall poise, too, was the kind of villain I wanted for Ratigan. Also that Elias was the guy that people could go to if they needed something done that they themselves couldn’t get around or that was just too grey area for them to go through with themselves. He’ll pull the trigger, he’ll plant the bomb, he’ll ruin someone’s life. I love that concept a lot for a villain, because they already know they’re knee deep in the shit, why let someone else corrupt themselves when they can do it and do it without the whole fuss of morals. 

And now, a wishlist! Jot down a few themes or stories or genres etc that you want to maybe pursue in the upcoming year! (i.e. a good ol’ fashion forbidden romance, maybe you want to dig deep into racial identity etc) This doesn’t have to necessarily be attached to any characters or stories you have now– it’s just meant to help you see for yourself what kind of stories call to your heart.

More technology vs magic things! I feel like that theme of the natural vs the made would be fun and interesting considering the juxtaposition of the town to the forest and stuff!! 

Also, I mean even doing small, stupid shit with technology would make me very happy

More friendships!! (esp for Clara lol) More enemies! 

I would love to do something of like building a house or renovating a place together. if any one wants to go HGTV, please come see me :^) 

Scavenger hunt type deal? Like a video game! Get one thing in order to get the next thing so that you can get the next thing until they eventually find what they were looking for. 

Misunderstandings! Either ones that are funny and light hearted that result in hijinks or the good old fashion devastating kind that sets trust on the edge.  

And then to echo a few of yalls, and MK in the werewolf vs vampire chat, the opportunities of tension between those two parties. I think that would be SO cool??? not even for like a Big Boss Battle, but the build up to it would be really good! making alliances that wouldn’t otherwise be made, stirring the pot to make tensions worse, blackmail, threats. I barely have any stake in this, lmfao, but hey this question asked for things that didn’t have to be attached to my characters so. I would just be sitting on my computer with a bowl of popcorn for it. Big Vampire Diaries/the Originals Energy. 

OPTIONAL: Why do you RP?

Since this whole experience has been brand spankin’ new with my first go around in the rp world, the answer is just very simple: it is an absolute delight. 

Getting to write with people that double as this built in community/fandom that has been created is actually insane to me. It makes me so !!!!!!!!!!! because it’s so cool!! There’s really nothing out there like it! I like the collaboration aspect so much because it keeps everything exciting and fresh at all hours of the day! Not even just like within your own stories, but getting to see other people’s stories that I’m not even apart of. 

Honestly, getting to read the things you guys write for free makes me feel like I’m doing highway robbery. Every day I am a humble peasant who wakes up and is getting to feast upon what you monarchs come up with. 

Which just makes me want to say thank you to everyone here because I felt (and STILL DO) like such a fucking idiot coming in here not knowing what I was doing. But you all just welcomed me on in, made me feel comfortable enough to continue writing, and I sincerely believe you all kept me going on this wild and wacky year. I know I don’t talk at all in the big group chat because I am chicken shit!!!!!!!!!! but you’re all very lovely people, I feel lucky and blessed to have found you. Thank you for taking in a newbie like me into your long standing home!! 

#bdrptask #not me having to use a whole painting for euterpe since she isn't even in the movie

[joneswuzhere]

in anticipation of episode 4.14, i watched ‘how to get away with murder’ s1

here’s my thoughts on how rd might be playing out an homage to the show, and on what these parallels might suggest to expect from the whole ‘jughead dies’ plot

below are complete spoilers for ‘how to get away with murder’ s1, a few spoilers for s2 and s3. and also. spoilers for donna tartt’s ‘the secret history.’ cool ok here we go

- first. we’re abbreviating the title to htg

- second. htg’s plot is pretty convoluted and out-of-order, so it’s hard to mention one thing without having to explain four other things. riverdale’s format is so chill in comparison. i apologize for repetition and confusing timeline discussion

- also, maybe u watched this show! or maybe u want to. or maybe ur impatient and just here for riverdale lol. i’m not going to make u scroll through a whole plot summary of htg’s first season. BUT i did write one up here if that’s something u want to read. it will probably make the following easier to understand, but i’ll do my best to make it accessible without that

- third. like i said, my goal here is finding potential parallels and, based on that, speculating on what rd is doing with this plot. i have no conclusions but i do have some thoughts and maybe you do too

- ok the basics of htg:

- this show is the visual inspiration for rd’s flash forward hook, as well as for the murder cover up in the woods.

- the show structure is: a main timeline, intercut occasionally with flash forwards to a murder that happens at the midseason point. similar to rd

- a difference: in rd, the flashes jump to different points over a period of days - burning their clothes, the search party, body identification, then the arrests, the line up, and then back to the ‘death’ scene. in htg, all the flashes jump to different points during one particular night, and only deal with the groups effort to dispose of the body and evidence.

- where was i. oh, but there’s 2 murders in htg. murder #1 happened before the series start point. in the main timeline, the investigation into murder #1 builds up to the midseason climax that results in murder #2 (the one the group is covering up).

- after the timeline has caught up to the midseason murder, then the flash forwards are replaced with flash backs that begin to reveal past details about murder #1.

- so right away, what stands out to me is the possibility that, once the main timeline catches up to whatever happens to jughead in the woods, rd will continue to follow this format. but what would rd flash back to? hang on,

- the genre here is inverted detective story, where instead of finding out someone was killed and following along to find out who did it,, you learn right away who’s doing the murdering and how. the mystery lies in whether they’ll get away with it and/or what led up to that point.

- in htg, murder #1 is a regular mystery, and murder #2 is inverted. in rd, jughead’s death is an inverted mystery, and there’s several other regular mysteries/deaths: chipping’s suspicious suicide, the old generation of the quill & skull society, + the missing kids that jughead and betty are investigating

- so it may transpire that we see flashbacks to those missing students, like moose or the stonewall 5. or maybe context on why chipping jumped, what dupont said to him. or a glimpse into fpj1′s time at stonewall. i’m spitballing

- hm a note on genre here: maybe there’s a conversation to be had about inverted murder mysteries and perfect murders (recall, the theme dupont assigned for the class). like, crime fiction specifically told through the perspective of getting away with it. (a perfect murder is specifically a murder that resists all explanation. no suspects, no evidence)

- ok. the first half of htg s1 is the lead up to the night of murder #2. the second half of the season focuses on how participating in and covering up a murder is affecting the people involved. grief, guilt, anxiety, nightmares. strain and changes in their relationships with each other, friends, and family. again, perhaps we’ll see rd focus on this in a similar way.

- hey btw, does that sound a little familiar to u? it might if you read the secret history. we already know this book is one of the influences behind rd’s s4 plot, but i was surprised at how much overlap is apparent between htg’s plot and the book plot. i made a chart about it lmao. more on that later

- what else fits into a parallel between rd and htg?

- some similarities between characters. htg has a group of law students from privileged backgrounds who are super competitive with each other, similar to the stonewall kids. and there’s the one outsider student who gets into the class last minute, is far less privileged, and who has a tragic past and a head for snooping and investigation.

- there’s a student/teacher affair that gets violent. it goes down pretty much the opposite of in rd; the girl gets pregnant, is totally in love, suggests the affair should be revealed to the teacher’s wife, and then she goes missing and turns up dead (murder #1)

- also, unlike rd where we have only donna’s word, in htg the affair is confirmed, and revealed through a bunch of evidence - dick pics on phones and postmortem pregnancy results, etc

- some other minor details from the show that the rd writers may have reflected upon:

- a window jumper suicide. circumstances very not the same tho

- a blink-and-miss-it scene with a dog named mr. chips, which is the nickname of the film character who rd’s mr. chipping is probably named after (goodbye mr. chips)

- also, ok. the 2 murders story is the show’s long A plot, but each episode also has a short B plot in the form of court cases that annalise and her group of student/interns work on. (btw lead character annalise is a criminal defense lawyer & law professor). details worth mentioning from some of these subplots:

- there’s a case involving cult brainwashing. a former devotee is charged with something terroristic with a bomb she did years ago, idk. annalise has her visit her old cult leader in prison to ask him to help her by testifying that he forced her to participate. this backfires - she falls back under his sway, he escapes custody during the trial, and they run away together, abandoning the family she made after leaving the cult

- in this ep the patty hearst trial is mentioned - the difficulty of trying to legally prove someone acted under duress, or prove they were brainwashed. and how trying to claim both at the same time is a terrible legal defense

- in another case, a woman is charged with murdering her housemaid while sleepwalking. she resists help from annalise bc she feels so guilty. the woman says ‘can u imagine waking up to realize that you killed somebody you loved? that’s what i did.’ except she didn’t; they figure out she was being framed by the real killer, her husband, who was jealous bc he thought he was the only one sleeping with the maid but he found out his teen son was too. yikes

- there is so much cheating in this show smh. anyway,

- these subplots are interesting to compare to rd, but sort of trivial in terms of htg’s overall plot. so what happens in the A plot after murder #2?

- a catch-up if u skipped the plot summary: annalise keating, lawyer, professor, is the central character. she’s direct, takes no shit, and puts up an emotionally impervious wall that keeps almost everyone out. but it’s also apparent from ep1 that she’s really suffering - her marriage is falling apart, she’s cheating and finds out her husband, sam, is too. they agree to repair things and sam seems to be making a big effort, but she keeps catching him in lies that point toward murder #1.

- in the latter half of the season, while she’s helping make sure the kids get away with murder #2 (they accidentally kill sam while pursuing him as the murder suspect), annalise’s grieving process is a focus. there’s an emphasis on her appearance as her armor, guarding her complicated grief over the trauma of her loss and the destruction of her trust. her cold exterior is both a protection and, at the same time, a point of suspicion for police, lawyers, and public who wonder how she can be so unaffected. meanwhile, in private, she has a total breakdown.

- this builds from a parallel that’s played with throughout the season - annalise’s control of her image vs hiding or confronting the truth. like, at one point, it’s evening, she wipes off all her makeup and pulls off her wig, then turns barefaced to her husband and asks him bluntly for the truth, why she caught him in a huge lie. and the flip side, later walking around with her whole look in place, as if nothing is wrong, is part of her effort to cover up the murder.

- i bring this up bc it reminds me of something that (the brilliant, the illuminating) @bettycooperoutfitwatch​ talked about in her 4.05 post, regarding That Sweater.

- in this post, at the flash forward arrest scene, she points out ‘it’s betty cooper in disguise as betty cooper.’ which, like. i’m floored by this observation

- the persona betty originally created to conform to her parents’ unattainable expectations of perfection and normality, now (not for the first time) dialed up and re-purposed to try to disperse suspicion???? love this

- annalise and betty are very Not alike as characters. but it seems that betty, like annalise, will be involved in the murder of her loved one. i’m interested to see if rd will follow htg’s emphasis on emotional turmoil and pretense in the aftermath of trying to get away with something horrible

- oh but that reminds me, i promised a chart

- i haven’t read the secret history and i have no desire to, but i foraged enough details to be able to point out some bare bones similarities going on here. it’s important to include this bc, at the moment, it complicates any attempt to figure out which, if either, inverted murder plot rd might be paralleling at any time.

- in other words, all my speculations here about htg parallels might be worthless bc i might be looking at the wrong text. it’s cool, i think that makes it more fun

- book spoilers in here. sorry it’s small, u can try to zoom in here

- please feel free to jump in with corrections or more details if you’ve read the book

- [update as of 2/25: i’m reading the fuckin book after all, so i may make another post with an updated chart at some point. maybe]

- last thing. in htg, the inverted mystery (whether or not the kids get away with it) is resolved by annalise planting evidence that frames someone else (whom she chooses bc she’s confident she can get him safely out of the charges). the bottom line there is: someone innocent is framed for murder #2.

- and then a new development - one kid involved in murder #2 freaks out and may decide to turn the others in - leads to a 3rd death. hm (post s4 update: that’s jonathan i guess)

- actually no, the real last thing. wikipedia says there’s a subplot in htg s2 that involves blackmailing annalise and others with uhhhh creepy surveillance videos of them, some that incriminate them in murder #2.

- and then, in s3, drawn out over another series of flash forwards, there’s a character death reveal... of the guy who’s most in parallel to jughead.... lmao. and speak nothing of s6. so like, there’s definitely potential for more or continuing parallels here

- i kind of hope not though, bc i don’t have it in me to watch more of this show. it’s Very high strung, i can’t deal with it (post s4 update: no i never watched any more of this show but yes, that was all definitely used by rd)

- bonus: wait do u want some of my opinions on the actual show?? favorite characters: annalise, bonnie, and oliver. i liked the fast pace but the constant tension stressed me out. also, not enough lesbians; i kept expecting bonnie and annalise to kiss. the guy who plays wes.... not a very good actor, is he? viola davis though: amazing. that’s all. watch if u like stress. sorry i spoiled everything

#riverdale speculation #episode thoughts #least coherent thing i've ever put up here but i sure did write all of that down #anyway i love when rd's plot finds a balance of different homage #man and this isn't even touching on the agatha christie stuff. it'd be neat to see betty's narrative follow something like marta/knives out #not sure how that could work tho since riverdale lacks wealthy people of any benevolence

[youngerdrgrey]

easy there, oedipus (or, how to get away with impregnating your law professor) [DRAFTS 1]

about: alternatively titled, how to get away with impregnating your law professor and secretly parenting your child; or moments from a fic unwritten, updated and revamped for a season that only feeds into my need for Annalise and Wes to fall into the abyss together. — takes place in season 3

a/n: Drafts from before the show hurt me w/ season three’s finale; shared in case anyone wanted more of the story -- this was a deleted sequence about the night Wes and Annalise hooked up, featuring the rest of the crew.

i. step one: forget the wine (or the night of)

.

.

Laurel C. (8:10pm) // Connor’s gonna kill you if you forget the wine again.

Wes G. (8:11pm) // I have the wine.

Or, at least, he will if everyone could just stop texting him long enough for him to open the front door. Wes tries pocketing his phone again when it buzzes with another message.

Connor W. (8:12pm) // Don’t let me down, man. Michaela’s already started her Aiden’s got mommy issues rant.

Wes rolls his eyes. Replies.

Wes G. (8:13pm) // I’m on my way.

Which technically isn’t a lie, he’s on the way, just with a slight pitstop before he bikes all the way to Laurel’s apartment.

In Wes’s defense, this Thursday has to be one of the most chaotic Thursdays he’s had since they wrapped the Lila Stangard case. Normally, he goes to class, reports to Annalise’s, and then heads back to his place for a few hours of peace, but one of his loans fell through so he had to spend every minute of free time hovering in the Student Services building and trying to get his point across without having someone accuse him of being the intense, black guy pissed off in the corner.

Tough day, so the last thing he really needs is the constant barrage of texts and phone calls from Laurel and Connor and Michaela about the wine that they apparently cannot have dinner without.

His phone rings, and he answers with a huff.

“Calm down. I’m almost there,” he tells them while turning the key in the lock. The groans on the other side of the line tell him they believe him about as much as he believes himself.

Michaela groans. “Is that a key? Wes! You’re supposed to be here by now!”

He sighs. “Michaela, please don’t yell into the phone.” He shifts so he can use his weight to pry the door open. He pulls his bike into the entry way and props it on the wall. “Or, better yet, give the phone to Laurel.”

“So she can tell you this is okay? You promised you’d bring the wine tonight and—“

“And I’m getting it right now. I will talk to you when I see you, okay?”

“It’s definitely not okay.”

“I promise I will hear all about it later, but for now, I’m hanging up. Don’t call back. Or text me.”

“Wes—“

He hangs up before she gets the chance to say anything more. Then grimaces at the thought of her when he will arrive later. She’ll probably pop the cork in his direction. Hopefully, she gets some of her anger out at Connor before he gets there.

Wes pockets his phone and turns around to push the door closed behind him. There’s a nice finality and peace in hearing the click of the door in the frame, like he’s home and no one can take that away from him.

Of course, he’s not technically home, but Annalise’s house has pretty much become all of theirs ever since they started working for her. They have spare keys, which they’re basically never to use unless they think she’s dead, and they have extra toothbrushes in the downstairs guest bathroom, and — ding, ding, ding — they have a bottle of wine that they stashed in the bottom of her fridge last week that will go perfectly with the lasagna Laurel’s making for dinner tonight.

Plus, this bottle’s free so long as he grabs it and gets back out before Annalise ever even knows he came over. Brilliant plan, with the slight exception of the fact that, well, the light switches on after he’s gotten a few steps into the house, and he’s not the one who flipped it.

“Stop right there.”

He glances up from the threshold, and Annalise is on the steps, seated practically right where Michaela pushed her husband over the bannister. Wes grimaces. He’s got to start seeing something else when he looks in the entryway.

“Uh, hi, Annalise.” Another grimace. He probably should’ve called her Mrs. Keating instead. “What a great night tonight, right?”

Her hand doesn’t move from the light switch she holds it on.

“Oh, of course. What great night doesn’t involve one of my students breaking into my house?”

He winces. “Technically, I used the key.”

“And what exactly was the emergency?”

He almost doesn’t even want to answer. She’s looking down at him from the top of the world, and he’s a speck with a muddy bike that he should’ve never brought into her home and a shitty excuse.

“We, uh, left a bottle of wine in your fridge, and I wanted to get it before you noticed.”

“On a Thursday night?”

His voice gets more sheepish. “There’s a dinner tonight. I thought, free wine.”

Annalise chuckles. The stairs are quiet, but he hears her walking down them in the padding of her feet. His breath slows so his chest kind of vibrates between exhales as she gets closer with each step.

“Who’s the lucky girl?”

His eyes roll to the side. She’s nearly on the bottom step, and for a second, her eyes linger on his button-up shirt and court pants, and he honestly is a bit more put together than he should be for a night with his friends. (Although, in his defense, laundry day normally means he looks like shit or like he’s going to walk a runway; there’s not really an in-between.)

He shakes his head. “Laurel.” He watches Annalise’s eyes widen before cocking his head to the side. “And Michaela. Connor too. It’s study group dinner night.”

Thursdays are kind of the only nights they get off for sure since she’s normally out with clients, or other official lawyers, so they turned into study nights, which turned into dinner and drinking, which is kind of mostly just drinking at this point.

Maybe he should invite her. Or he could tell everyone else to come over here. She has a dining room, unlike any of them, and their dinner would probably feel a lot more like home if it were, well, in their home.

(Not that any of them would ever tell Annalise how much they loved her place. And hated it. And could never seem to stay away.)

“Would you like to come?” His voice almost sounds hopeful, though he tries to ignore that fact.

She’s already dressed from earlier in the day so it wouldn’t take much for her to come with him. Or, come over at the same time as him — not come with him because they’re not — the two of them couldn’t — she’s ready, is all he really means.

She waves him off while turning to walk further into the house.

“It’s bad enough I spend my days with you all. I won’t be giving my nights to cheat sheets and exam prep.”

Wes follows behind her. Is that really what she thinks of them? They would never use her like that.

(Well, maybe Michaela, but Michaela can’t really help it at this point.)

“We don’t just see you as a professor, you know?”

She hums while rounding the corner into the kitchen. “I’m your boss too.”

Yes, but “You’re also an amazing person. Dedicated, driven, damn near unstoppable.” He should probably stop talking, but she’s opening the fridge and going directly to the bottom tray, which means she knew they had hid it there. “Does anything ever get past you?”

She plucks out the bottle. Stands so she can turn and hold it out to him.

“Only opportunities.”

He takes the wine but doesn’t look at it. Takes the bait, more accurately.

“Like what?”

She wipes off her hands. “Like… life. A whole lot of it.”

There’s an island near him, so he plunks the bottle onto it and leans his back against the edge to face her.

“I’m all ears,” he says.

She grins, and, for a moment, he can almost hear the old kids from Willowick calling him Dumbo. Can imagine the words spilling from her lips too. Then her lips part, and he can’t stop staring at them.

Her lipstick’s almost gone, aftermath of what must’ve been a long day on her end as well. Most of her make-up’s gone, now that he’s noticing. Her skin a little more disparate and dissonant, like an unearthed galaxy or file beneath a folder.

“I thought you were leaving.”

He shrugs. “Wine emergency. It takes a while. They’ll understand.”

She pushes the fridge closed. Her hands linger on the cool metal. She admits, “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

He keeps his voice casual. “How about why you were on the steps when I got here? Alone. In the dark.”

“Who else would’ve been here?”

She focuses on the alone part of his sentence; he can too.

“I’m here,” he says.

“For a drink,” she returns.

“Still here, aren’t I?”

She peers at him like he’s a client on the stand who won’t say the exact words she needs him to. Annalise Keating always has a motive, a plan of action that tops everyone else’s. What’s she searching for?

He motions to the bottle. Nearly deflects. “Need me to open this? I hear it loosens people right up.”

A dent in her armor, a quirk of her lips and an almost self-deprecating chuckle that doesn’t quite reach the outside world.

“You don’t want to see me drunk, Mr. Gibbins.”

He hears it as a challenge, an invitation. His fingers wrap around the bottle. “Um, quite the opposite, actually. Seems like a pretty good night to me.”

She gives him another look, like she’s searching for something. He’s not sure if she finds it, but she does motion to the island.

“Third drawer on your left. Get the corkscrew, and meet me in my office.”

She walks away while he goes for it. He fetches it out, then gets his phone from his pocket.

Wes G. (8:19pm) // Not sure if I can make it tonight after all. You understand right?

Laurel C (8:20pm) // Connor’s gonna flip. (8:21pm) // Michaela too.

The light turns on in the office, illuminating a path through the house. Wes pushes the door closed.

Wes G. (8:23pm) // I’ll bring two bottles next week. Totally worth your while.

He grabs glasses and rinses them out.

Laurel C. (8:25pm) // Whatever. You better not be watching TV right now.

Annalise left the sliding doors open, so he can see her as she settles on the edge of her desk with her ankles crossed and her palms on either side of her hips. He can make eye contact when she glances up without lifting her head, so she’s all hooded eyes and shadow-kissed lips.

He probably should reply to Laurel, but honestly, she can think whatever she wants of him at this point. He’s the one with the wine, the nearly empty house, and nowhere he’d rather be.

Maybe his Thursday was turning around after all.

.

.

More drafts and headcanons to come.

#easy there oedipus #htgawm #htgawm fic #annalise x wes #annawes #annalise keating #mine #wes gibbins

[futurewriter2000]

Sweet Rebels - pt. 3

XX

Three days have passed since that night. Three most wonderful days. You were this whole new person, looking what best look to put on if accidentally you would see him. Yet that was impossible. He was in Wellton and you were... well, you were stuck here. 

“So, uncle.” you leaned on the counter and threw the apple from one hand into the other. “What’s it like there? In Wellton, I mean.”

“You mean the place where I got my education and am surrounded by stuck up elderly people and hormonal teenage boys?” he turned to you and beamed. “Fantastic.” 

“I’ve always been wondering how you run your classes. I mean that time on the football field was quite- quite...” you stopped, thinking for the exact words. “Distinctive.” 

“Nice one.” he turned around, his index finger poiting at you. “You’re expanding your vocabulary.”

“I have an English professor for an uncle. What do you expect?” you rolled your eyes, trying to get back on the topic. “So do you teach all of your classes that way or is this class something special?”

“Why?” he narrowed his eyes at you. 

“I just- uh-”

“Come on.” he was now right in front of you. “Spill it, (Y/n). What have you done?”

“Firstly, I haven’t done a thing.” -that was a lie- “Secondly, I met one of them...Knox Overstreet.”

“Overstreet.” he repeated after you.

“Yeah. At a party once.”

“A party?”

“A high school party.”

“A high school party?”

“Can you stop that?”

“Stop what?”

“That.” you pointed at his face expression and he smiled.

“So you met Knox Overstreet.” he straightened his posture and started walking to his suitcase. “So, I would have guessed you met the others as well?”

You were now quiet. There was something in his eye. Something you couldn’t put your finger on it, whether to trust or not.

“Uh...I talked to one of the others on the phone.” 

“Why?” 

“Uh..”

This was not going well. He was closing in on you. 

You shook yourself. “There’s this girl in my school. Chris. And Knox has a huge crush on her and he just asked a few questions about her. Here and there.” you wiggled your way out.

“And who was the other boy?”

“What?” you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“You said you talked to another of them on the phone.”

“Yeah.” you couldn’t stop yourself but smile when you thought of that boy. “Charlie.” you kept looking away, smiling shyly to yourself, which was not unseen by your uncle. 

“A-ha.” was all he said before firmly taking a hold of his suitcase and making his way to the door. 

“Wait.” you looked at him with wide eyes, running after. “They won’t be in trouble or anything, right?” but he didn’t answer. “Uncle?!” you kept shouting but the door was closed and you were alone. 

---

Silence filled the room after Keating put his suitcase on the desk, stood in front of it and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He was eyeing each and one of them  with a smug expression.

“Tis’ one thing to be tempted, another thing to fall.” he quoted “William Shakespear, the biggest, hopeless romantic God has ever created. “ he said and the class watched. “Can anyone guess why I have used this specific quote?” he said, looking at Knox, then at Charlie. “Dalton?” 

“Not a clue, professor.” Charlie grinned mischiviously, rocking on his chair. 

“How about you, Mr. Overstreet? Anything?”

Knox thought of Chris immediately. How could he not? Her blue eyes, her golden hair...it could only make him smile, just as you did before. 

“You see that smile boys.” he pointed at Knox and Knox immediately looked up, blushing. “That’s a smile worth living for.”he whispered to Knox than started moving to the back of the room. 

“I think most of you can remember the day on the football field when my niece made an appereance.” he was standing right behind Charlie. “I think you got a knocked off your feet that day, Mr. Dalton.” said Keating, seeing as Charlie got more and more tense. “Quite literally.” he then looked at the other boys in front, who kept grinning and exchanging looks.

“Got quite a headache.” Charlie said.

“Enough to hear me say that my niece is-”

“-off boundaries?” Charlie looked up, grinning. “Loud and clear, professor.” 

“Good. I expect you all to respect that and leave my niece alone.” he walked forward, putting his hand on Knox’s shoulder. “And focus something other than parties.” 

---

Charlie was combing his hair. Bacward. Forward. Side. Flip. Backward. Another flip. 

“Heard you had a date!” Neil burst into his room with other boys following him.

“You heard correctly.”

“With Keating’s niece?” asked Meeks.

“Yes.” Charlie kept looking in the mirror, messing up his combed hair and turning around. “Tell me. Do I look fantastic or what?” he grinned and fixed the collar around his neck. 

“Where will you even go?” Neil laughed. “It’s freezing as hell.”

“To her house.” he opened the door. “Or block. I don’t know where she lives.”

“Wh-What?” Neil started to become more and more confused. “How-”

“Seize the day, Neil.” Charlie winked before he slipped through the door and into the freezing winter.

---

“Seize the day my ass.” Charlie said as he kept looking at the second floor window. He looked around in the freezing cold, looking for anything small that would hit the window but not break it. Yet all he could see was pure, white snow. 

He should have turned back. 

He could have called you first and you would wait for him or at least told him where you li-

His thoughts stopped as he continued to look at the figure through the window. The light was on, gold and shallow and you? Well, you were just perfect

 He could have stayed in the cold forever if it meant looking at you. You wore a white tanktop, your hair tied up in a high loose ponytail and a few strands falling from the sides meanwhile your hands held a red-covered book. 

In some coinsidance, some stroke of luck, you leaned on the door frame, your eyes stuck on the book and like fate, your eyes turned to look at the outside snow, seeing a boy in a coat instead. 

Your eyes widened, his grin stretched wider. He waved and you took a few steps back first, looking yourself in the mirror then back at the window. 

“Fuck.” you mumbled to yourself. You turned to the mirror, back at the window, mirror, window... 

You ran to the window, opening it. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

“What does it look like? I’m seranading.” he continued to smile. 

“Oh, really?” you rolled your eyes. “I don’t hear any singing.”

“Well, you don’t want my tongue to freeze, do you?” he licked his lower lip and cocked an eyebrow. 

“You are unbelievable.” was all you could say before turning over your shoulder, looking at the door and focusing your ears on any sound of your uncle. “Wait here, okay?” you told him before closing the window and disappearing from the view.  

You reappeared around the corner of your block, wearing an oversized jacket, a grey trainer and large men boots. 

“Don’t you just look adorable.” he walked towards you, trying to open his arms to  you but you only took his hand and pulled him around the corner. Putting one of your hands over his mouth and the other on the door knob, you looked up to his gorgeous brown eyes and said. “I told him I accidentally dropped a book through the window as I was reading that means you’ll follow me to my room as quietly as you can.” you said and he only smiled wider under your hand, causing you to smile as well. “Okay?” 

He nodded. 

You opened the door slightly and quietly, quickly pushing him upstairs meanwhile you shouted through the hallway to your uncle. “FOUND IT!” 

“Alright! Go to sleep and turn down your music!” he shouted back and you pushed Charlie forward. 

He kept chuckling at the situation but you kept shushing him. “Just go- left- no other left!” he opened the door, entering the room as you turned around to close it behind you and at once he was already cupping your head and warming up your lips. You leaned against the door, smiling as you could feel his cold, plush lips on your own. He kissed you slowly and gently, pulling away then kissing you again. When that kiss was over, he put his finger on your lips and smiled. “What I do for love.” he wiggled his eyebrows and you snorted. 

“Become an utter idiot.” you put your hands on his collar and pulled him into another kiss. “And-” you pushed him away slightly. “-what are you wearing?” you laughed as he widened his eyes.

“What’s wrong with my clothes?”

You giggled and grabbed him by the tie. “A tie? To a house visit?”

“So that’s all it is?” he wiggled his eyebrows again, wrapping his arms around you. “A house visit?” 

“Pretty much, yeah.” you nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and gently scratching the back of it. “Though, next time you should call.” 

“Where’s the romance in that?” 

“Just take off these awful clothes.”

#Charlie Dalton x reader #Charlie Dalton imagines #Dead poets society x reader #Dead poets society imagine #Dead poets society imagines #Knox overstreet imagine