#dps fic

[dearsnow]

THE LAST TIME

- ten out of the countless times you have seen neil perry, and nine where you saw him alive. (neil perry x gn! implied to be shy reader, fluff to angst, canon-typical main character death, major spoilers for dps but i assume you’ve watched it before, i included my own poetry so i hope y’all like it, sad face emoji i teared up while writing this).

word count: 9,006

a/n - thank you so so much to my beta readers @sorencd and @chuudidit for reading this massive piece, i appreciate you endlessly <3 this was definitely a labor of love, one that i took a considerable amount of time to write and edit. i adore dead poets society and poetry in general (i have written 130+ poems and never plan on stopping) so i definitely needed to put my thoughts into words lol 😭 anyways, i hope you enjoy, because i definitely enjoyed writing this for you.

When Neil Perry first saw you, and god, did he see you, he knew nothing would ever be the same again.

You were simply sitting there under the old tree just outside the borders of Welton with a book under your nose and the soft rays of a flashlight filtering through your hair. You had one knee up, holding the book in a gentle balancing act as he stared. Charlie gave him a nudge, eyebrows raised and a tease on the tip of his tongue, but Neil couldn’t even move. He was completely and utterly dumbstruck. The moon was hanging above your head, full and bright, drowning you in a poetic haze. You flipped a page and he could feel his heart beating in his chest. He thought he had never seen anything so beautiful before, and he had no idea why.

After a long minute, he peeled his gaze away from the figure under the tree and followed the other dead poets to their second ever meeting. From the corner of his eye, he swore he saw you glance up at him when he passed, but no one else seemed to notice.

When Neil and the poets were walking back to Welton, you weren’t there- something Neil noticed instantly. Of course, being who he was, Todd noticed that Neil noticed, and Charlie noticed that Todd noticed, and before he knew it, Neil and his fixation were the new tortured topics of the evening. 

“Oh, love at first sight! The most beautiful kind.” Charlie teased, clasping his hands and spinning around. “How romantic.”

Neil shook his head, trying desperately to clear his suspicions. “It’s not like that. I swear, it’s not even a crush. I just thought it was weird.”

Cameron chimed in with a slightly hushed tone. At least he was aware of the fact that they were quickly approaching the earshot of every single person in Welton Academy. “I wonder where they came from. I mean, it couldn’t have been comfortable or safe to be out here at night. Especially alone.”

“Same. What do you think they were reading?” Neil responded, quick to try and put the teasing behind him. Despite his efforts, the teasing carried long into the night and the days following it. It seemed like nothing and no one would ever let him forget he ever saw you.

He would find out later that you were reading a poetry book.

He saw you for the second time on a trip to the main town. He recognized you instantly, from what little knowledge of you he had gained. You had the same hair, the same stature, the same book tucked under your arm as you peered into the musty old bookstore in the back corner. Just Todd was with him this time, and he definitely knew what was up.

Todd glanced at him, a warm expression on his face. Once again, Neil was entranced.

In the new glorious daylight, he noticed things he never could’ve before. The undertones of your hair, your skin, the way you seemed to glow even when you dipped into the shadows. He saw the pure beauty of you in a manner he had never seen anyone else in before. He took a step forward, pulled towards you somehow as his heart beat a mile a minute. The bookstore loomed over you, cracked and imperfect, yet casting the evening in a scene plucked out of a storybook. You turned, seeming to have seen him in the window’s reflection, and he flinched. He almost had a heart attack as his brain registered the color of your eyes and exactly how your mouth pulled up into a smile. Quickly turning away, he grabbed Todd’s sleeve and hightailed it out of there. Todd followed, as he always did. Neil was enamored, and Todd could tell.

“Do you think they saw me?” Neil gasped, pulling Todd into the square’s corner. He was panting lightly, red-cheeked, with a lopsided grin on his face. Todd had never seen him nervous, much less shy. In fact, he was the opposite- friendly, inclusive, and not the type to run away from a challenge. Something must have been different about you.

Todd raised his eyebrows. “Probably, Neil, they looked back.” He, too, saw your eyes, though he was mostly focused on the anxiety coursing through his veins rather than committing them to memory.

Neil’s gasping breaths were definitely louder than they needed to be. “Oh god, they definitely saw me. They probably think I’m a creep. Jesus, it’s definitely over.”

“What’s over?” Todd put a hand on his shoulder worriedly. “There was nothing there to begin with. They’re just a person, you’ll be fine.”

“Way to kill my dreams, Todd. Look, can you promise me that you won’t tell this to anyone else?” Neil asked, suddenly very serious. He glanced around like someone would waltz into the trash-filled and truthfully disgusting corner. The bathrooms were just around the bend, and he could smell it.

Intrigued, Todd nodded.

“I need you to say it. Promise me.” Neil whispered. His coat crinkled as he moved closer to Todd, the material dipping around his sweater. The fall air was the perfect background for whatever Neil was trying to get up to.

“I promise.”

Neil grinned boyishly and glanced around the corner again. “This is stupid, but I think I’m in love.” From the look in his eyes, Todd could definitely tell. His friend was suddenly more animated than he had been in a very long while, and he knew that he would do anything to keep him that way. His caution, however, took over.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. What if you never see them again?”

“And what if I do?” Neil breathed. “What if I see them tomorrow, or the next day, or a week from now? What if I see them every day of my life because I just went out and said something?”

Todd shook his head. “Just be careful, alright? There’s a very good chance that nothing will come of it.” Neil clasped Todd’s jacket, quirking his eyebrows.

“No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“Just no.”

The first time you saw Neil Perry, you didn’t even know you saw him. You were sitting under a tree, reading an Emily Dickinson book you bought in the town’s bookstore. It was a way to relax to you. A way to forget all of your troubles and just enjoy the wonders of the world. You don’t know why you picked that tree, or why you stayed so long you had to use the flashlight you so hastily packed, but life has its ways of pulling you towards something you didn’t know existed.

The scenery was absolutely beautiful, even at night. You wrapped your thick coat tightly around your shoulders. The fall leaves beneath you gave a crackle and the moon hung high above your head, slightly illuminating your page. Welton Academy loomed just outside of your line of sight. It was beautiful, too, but something about the cold stone walls made you shiver.

As time slipped away, you began to hear a hushed cacophony of boys around your age coming out of the school to the side of you. They had their hoods up, laughing and giggling like they were in some sort of secret club. You looked up, and one of them stopped dead in his tracks. You could see his breaths clouding in the night as the others urged him forward. Your eyes drifted back down to your book, as if you were embarrassed. The moment broke, and he was on his way.

You weren’t there for his return back to Welton.

The second time you saw him, you noticed him a lot more clearly. You were window shopping just outside of the bookstore. Even though the building was dusty and marred, it smelled like home. It smelled like stories and adventures and comfort. You were a frequent visitor to this place, and one of the owner’s best customers. 

He often set up his new imports in the big, yellow-tinted window in front of you. As you gazed in, you noticed a face appear in the space next to you. You turned around partially, meeting his dark brown eyes. Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at him.

It was an electric moment. His lips were slightly parted, and the gray clouds above him were engorged with unshed tears. You gaped at him, dumbfounded, as milliseconds ticked away like hours.

Before you knew it, he had sped away with his friend in tow. Huh, you hadn’t even noticed he had a friend. All you could think about was the fact that he looked familiar, and the fact that he was the most handsome boy you had ever had the pleasure of locking eyes with.

His stature reminded you of the boy by the tree, the boy from Welton Academy. There was just something about him that screamed “you saw him once in a dream”.

Somehow, you thought one simple thought: you were in love with someone you did not know.

When Neil saw you for the third time, and the third time you saw him, he worked up the courage to talk to you.

Mr. Keating was instructing the boys outside yet again. They were in the courtyard, taking inspiration from the world around them. From leaves, patches of mud, anything that struck their fancy. 

You were taking a walk by campus. Once again, you didn’t know why; you just were. The boys were not a quiet group, and you could hear their shouts very clearly. You strained your ears, hoping to hear one voice in particular. Of course, you didn’t know what his voice sounded like, but you were listening anyway. If you were right, and he was a boy from Welton, maybe you might be able to catch a word or two.

That’s when Neil spotted the person walking loops around the front of campus. Maybe, for the first time, you could be his inspiration.

He looked over his shoulder, quickly trying to assess whether he could slip away unnoticed or not. No one seemed to be looking at him. He left his group behind and jogged up next to you.

You saw him coming. Even from a distance, you knew it was him. Your heart began to pound in your ears, loud and fast and just a little bit lovesick. You were right.

“Hey!” He exclaimed. You took a small step back. Your nerves were on their highest setting and your mind was reeling. What did he think of you, you wondered. More importantly, who was he?

As he approached, you put on your best nervous smile. “Hi.”

“My name’s Neil.” He said, reaching out a hand for you to shake. You complied quickly, saying your own name in turn. His palms were slightly damp, but you couldn’t blame him. Yours were probably worse.

The moment your hand held his, fitting perfectly under his fingers, he knew you were made for him. “I saw you in town the other day. Do you like books?” 

Your voice was hesitant, unsure, and Neil wished he could reach out and smooth the wrinkles in the sound like an old coat. “Yeah.”

“What were you reading?” Neil asked. He tried to stamp down his own nerves, but something about you made his breaths flutter in and out like butterfly wings. It was a feeling he was completely and entirely new to.

You shifted the bag on your shoulder to your hands, reaching in to pull out the book. “Oh, Poems by Emily Dickinson. It’s not the traditional type of book, but I love poetry.” Your cheeks began to warm. You knew nothing about this boy. What if he thought poetry was stupid, just a lesson in his English class and nothing else? How could anyone know how much those words meant to you?

Neil beamed, big and wide and lovesick. You truly were perfect for him, he thought. Poetry. You certainly were poetic, with those gorgeous eyes and an equally beautiful mind. “I love poetry too.” He breathed.

Your tense smile turned genuine. “You do? That’s awesome.” A quiet flutter started to pick up in your heart.

“Yeah. You know what?” He grinned, “my friends and I have a sort of poetry club. The dead poets society- we do readings, original works, whatever the members are feeling at the moment.” He sucked in a silent breath, pausing just enough to let his reeling mind decide on what he wanted to say. “It’s at night in the old Indian cave.” You nodded along to his words, growing increasingly intrigued the further he carried on. This dead poets society began to excite you. It was all you ever wanted in life: a community of like-minded people sharing the verses that made your heart tick. “If you want, I mean, you should go to our next meeting. It’s tonight.” Neil offered. He could tell his words were cycling through your mind, finally catching up to his proposal.

You wanted to join the dead poets society so badly it made your heart ache. A little inkling, though, in the back of your head, sparked a pit in your stomach. “Would your friends be okay with me being there? I… I don’t exactly know them.”

Neil was head over heels. You were so wonderfully lively, in the way that a breeze touching his eyelashes with the tips of its fingers would be. You were exactly how he expected, and exactly who he needed.

He waved away your concern with the flip of a hand and a laugh. “Don’t worry about it. The others bring guests too, and gosh, I’m sure they’re going to love you! Especially Todd. I’m sure you two would get along real well.” 

“Then I’ll definitely be there.” You replied. The sparkle in your eye shot Neil at full force. You were excited, smiling, happy. He made you happy. He mentally patted himself on the back.

“Great!” Leaves rustled from behind Neil, and you could see a group of boys approaching in the near distance. “Shoot. I gotta go, but make sure to show up. I’ll be waiting for you.” He whispered, leaning in closer to you before turning around to walk towards the group. You felt cold air where he had once been, and you wished for a moment that he would come back. His friends, however, were hooting and hollering, and you thought you could hear a kissy noise or two. You shook your head, a shaky warmth creeping its way up your neck, before turning to walk away.

You were going to go to a secret meeting in a secret cave at a hauntingly secret hour, and you had never been quite so excited in your entire life.

The fourth time you saw each other was the dead poets society meeting. You were brimming with nerves beforehand, shaking fingers gathering your materials as you tried to prepare for waltzing into a place with people entirely unknown to you. The bag you were holding contained a couple of your favorite poetry books, your own poems scratched in the empty spaces on certain pages that really inspired you. You weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to read a poem out loud, especially your own work, but earlier in the evening, you resolved to “go with the flow” and do what the others were doing. You hoped you wouldn’t have to regret that decision later.

After putting everything together and making sure to turn off your light and close your door, you slipped out of your house into the black night.

The scenery on your walk was entirely too beautiful. You never noticed just how much the bark on trees formed swirling patterns, or how the stars seemed to twinkle on their own. The ground under your feet was littered with fallen leaves in fiery shades and clumps of moist dirt. You began to smile just a little bit, thinking of a poem you had written when autumn had first started. That is surely what you would say if the dead poets wanted you to speak.

Nothing felt greater than breathing in the crisp, cold air and swinging your arms as you stepped along the path less traveled on. 

When you finally reached the cave, heart significantly lighter, the sound of laughter floated up to your ears. It was bountiful and boyish and beautiful. You peered around the edge of the cave entrance, and Neil’s eye immediately caught on you.

“Come in, come in! We’re just about to begin.” He called. You stepped fully into the light and glanced around at your company.

They were giggling and shoving, gaping at you and Neil with a sort of uncertain certainty. Some were standing, some sitting, a couple moving around, and all of them male. You took a seat next to Neil, between him and the boy you saw with him in town. He gave you a meaningful nod and looked to Neil, who was opening an old, thick book. He was frightened to so much as speak in front of you, as silly as it might have seemed.

“Attention, dead poets. Today is another wonderful night.” He announced, voice deep and commanding and humorously theatrical. “I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately… I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life! To put to rout all that was not life… And not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived…” His voice trailed off, and someone from the back of the cave echoed his last word. He closed the book with a snap, and the boys began to murmur excitedly.

Neil took a seat and turned to you, a glimmer of something sweet in his eye. When he looked at you, all he saw was magnificence. “Who wants to start?”

A boy jumped up. In his fist was a crumpled piece of paper, which he made a show of unfolding. “For those of you who don’t know,” He said, with a pointed glance at you, “my name is Nuwanda, and today, I actually made a poem.”

A couple boys yelled in support, and Neil gave you a nudge. “Charlie Dalton.” He whispered, making sure to not alert the others. You thanked him with a shy nod. Then, as “Nuwanda” was starting to begin his woefully homemade poem, Neil put his arm around your shoulders. 

His touch sent jitters through your entire body, lighting you up like a firework. It just felt so right, so natural, so breathtaking. It felt exactly like shaking his hand and feeling his eyes and seeing his breath hang in the air- like it was destined, written in the stars, utterly perfect. You leaned into his touch, feeling his warm breath fanning over the back of your neck and shoulder. “To live, to learn, to die,

my boys, 

to see, to love, to burn. 

To touch, to know, to harm, 

my dear,

to eat, to reap, to sow.” 

Charlie recited. For someone who seemingly took poetry lightly, he wasn’t particularly bad. He put more passion into his words than most other boys you knew. In fact, you’re sure he would be a great writer if he put more than an ounce of effort into it.

He took a bow as the room erupted into applause, Neil’s arm still wrapped around you. He could feel it too, the electricity. He wanted nothing more than to bottle that feeling and keep it forever.

Charlie sat, staring at you and Neil with a smirk on the corners of his lips. “Hey, why don’t we let our guest take a crack at it?”

The cave filled with a rumble of excitement from all of the poets. Neil’s brows were furrowed, but he gave an urge of support anyway. “If you want to, of course.”

You wanted to. Energy thrummed throughout your company, filling you with a sense of confidence you rarely had anywhere else. For once, you truly wanted to speak up. The air was crackling with a sense of anxious anticipation, and you could smell the love each boy held for each other. They knew, somehow, that the moment meant a lot to Neil, and they were willing to put aside any inhibitions to help him enjoy the night.

“I’ll go.” You uttered. Neil’s face lit up as his previous worries slunk away into the night.

You pulled out a book from your usual bag and opened it to the page you knew so well you could recite the poem it held without looking. And, of course, your own poem was scribbled in the margins. 

Everyone was attempting to peer over your shoulder, to take a glimpse of what made you a poet. Having attention on you was an odd feeling, like ants crawling along the back of your spine. You took a deep breath. “When you die,

the beetles will still sing.

The trout will still jump,

and the earth will still rumble.

When you die, the moon will still turn

and the stars will still burn.

When you die,

The lakes will still ripple

and the trees will still creak

and I will lower you into the ground

and I will cry so hard the world stops moving.”

As the last words left your lips, a profound silence enveloped the group. Then, all at once, it exploded.

“We’ve got a real poet in here!” Came Charlie’s teasing (yet not entirely unkind) voice. “Truly Keating material. What sparked your creative melancholy?”

You felt yourself glowing as you sat. If you were being honest, you never could have imagined that anyone would genuinely enjoy your work. That notion was entirely unfounded and untrue, considering they were a group of poets, but it persisted nonetheless. “I don’t know, really. Just the notion of losing a loved one, I suppose.”

When Neil saw you, in that moment, when he heard your voice, he couldn’t breathe. He knew so little about you, yet you pumped his pulse up to be as fast as a racehorse. He wanted, no, he needed to learn everything that made you you. He needed to know what you looked like when waking up in the morning, or how your fingers felt threading through his hair, or your deepest, most desperate passions. He needed to be so close to you he could feel your heartbeat through the fabric of your shirt. He was intrigued. 

When he first discovered acting, he felt the same exact way- a burning desire to learn, to know, to discover. If you let him, he would recite his lines all the way into your heart.

The meeting continued as the sky grew ever darker, complete with poems and rhymes and words spoken in deliberately lyrical tones. You fell into every verse and every story as easily as you would if they were written in a book. You began to learn every name in the room, and they quickly caught on to yours. It was a community, a group of people that began to feel like home. 

Of course, by the time they decided to end things, the stars were full and bright. The sun would surely peek its head out of the fog in a couple hours. You were smiling harder and more genuinely than you ever had before, with Neil by your side, and Todd on your other. As they all stood up to leave with boisterous whispers, Neil turned to you.

“Will you come tomorrow? And the next, and every day after that?” His question was so excited, so innocent, like he didn’t know that you would kill for the chance to be near him and everything he held dear.

You smiled. “Of course. I’ll be a dead poet for life.”

Your eighth encounter with Neil was not a lucky twist of fate. He got permission to leave school for some something or other that you never bothered to find out. Now, it was just you two and the big town square looming in front of you.

In truth, it wasn’t that big, but when you’re standing at the beginning of a new day with the boy that holds your heart, everything feels intense.

He took hold of the sleeve of your sweater, as he so often did, and you descended upon the shops.

“Come on, you’ve absolutely got to try the milkshakes at Tom’s Ice Cream Parlor! They’re just the best. Hurry, hurry!” He tugged you along, a bright smile on his face. God, how you loved him.

You had grown closer in the past five dead poets society meetings. Often, he would stay with you in the cave long after the meetings had ended. You would talk about whatever crossed your mind in the moment, and he would spin stories out of thin air. He didn’t ever seem to talk about real life things, though. His work at school, sure, but anything outside of that was uncharted territory. When you asked him about his family, he just clammed up.

You laughed as he weaved through the clumps of people with you in tow. “Slow down, Neil! You’re gonna get us killed.”

The sound of your voice, especially your laugh, was something Neil had come to relish. He would keep you talking all day if it meant he could hear that giddy ring in his ears every time he craved your presence. “You’ve just got to go faster. The line is horrific at this time of day.” 

“This place had better be good.”

“It is, believe me. It’ll be the best you’ve ever had.”

When you arrived, bodies hot and just a little uncomfortably sweaty, the sight of the ice cream parlor was a welcome one. He led you through the doors and ran his fingers through his tousled hair. You wished you could do it for him. The line was, unsurprisingly, quite long. You made idle chat, but his words fell on deaf ears as you stared at him.

“…he was real impressed when Charlie played his sax. Mr. Nolan, though, he definitely wasn’t-“ And, before you could think about it, before the screaming in your head could tell you no, you reached up and smoothed the cowlick that always seemed to mess up his part. When you pulled your hand away, he was beaming.

“Thanks.” He said, simply. You smiled back at him.

“No problem. So, what happened to Charlie afterwards?” You questioned. Neil gave you a look, one you had come to realize meant “I’ll tell you later”.

As you stood three people away from the front counter, Neil fumbled around in his pockets. “Shoot, I could’ve sworn I brought more money than this…” He muttered. He pulled out a dime and three pennies, all slightly covered in the fuzz from his jacket pocket. “I’m sorry. I don’t know, I must’ve spaced out- I’m usually so good about things like this.”

You took his arm with one hand and slipped the other in your pocket, rooting around for any spare change you had. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure I have more than enough.”

You did not, in fact, have more than enough. You had a single quarter and a spare button. Pooled together, you could get exactly one milkshake and have his three pennies left over. Neil looked at you regretfully.

“You take it. I’ll get one another time.” He said, putting on a smile. “I’ve had too many sweet things today anyways.”

You would not accept this as an answer. Not here, not now. He deserved all the good things life had to offer, and you would be damned if he didn’t get them- starting with this milkshake. “It’s alright, you have it.”

Neil looked at you with furrowed eyebrows. “You should have it, really.” He would be damned if you didn’t get what he dragged you out here to experience. If he could see your face, smiling and sticky-lipped, after taking a sip from something he contributed to, he would be the happiest man on earth. 

The back-and-forth was getting nowhere and you both knew it. “Why don’t we just share it then? Ask for two straws?” You sighed. “It’s the best solution.”

He paused. It wasn’t ideal, and it wasn’t the life he wanted to give you (if this was any indicator), but it would work. Everything would work as long as you were there. “Okay. Yeah, let’s do that.”

There was another quick conversation about which flavor to choose, but you settled on one that you both liked equal amounts. You discovered that he had far different tastes than you milkshake-wise. If you were any less filtered, you would’ve told him his opinions were downright wrong.

You sat with him, smiling so hard you thought your face would break as he finally told you what happened to Charlie. Apparently, Nolan had reprimanded him as he so often had to do, but Charlie couldn’t stop smiling during the lecture. Eventually, Nolan just stopped mid-sentence and ushered the boy out the door. Apparently nothing and no one could ever crush Charlie’s spirit, not even the hardships of wooden rulers.

You leaned in to take a sip absentmindedly. As you reached your straw, you felt the tip of Neil’s nose brush against yours, and you realized you were so close to him you were almost kissing. You pulled back quickly, a hotness enveloping your cheeks.

“Sorry.” You uttered, trying not to look him in the eye. You were so mortified you almost killed yourself on the spot.

Neil, however, was overjoyed. He felt your breath on his chin and it was all he could think about. You, close to him, like you would’ve touched him if you hadn’t pulled away. He relished the feeling.

He shrugged, trying in vain to make it seem like he was just simply all right with it. “It wasn’t a problem,” He said, before noticing that the milkshake was running dangerously low. “Hey, why don’t you take the last sip?”

You cocked your head slightly. “Why?”

“Because I never want to be the one to end it.” He grinned. You shook your head, the corners of your lips rising up as he let out a little laugh. You adored his laugh.

“If you say so.”

That conversation stuck with you a long time after it happened.

It took four more dead poets meetings for Neil to ask you to go somewhere with him again. By the twelfth experience, though, you knew him like the back of your hand.

He loved acting. Loved it. He loved it so desperately that he was willing to face the wrath of his father to pursue the play he was casted in. Oh, and you learned about his father through whispers, mostly from Charlie. Neil, he told you, would never say a word about him. Tyrannical, inhospitable, red-hot like fire and ice-cold like ice. You knew of his mother, too, and her quiet indifference. Neil held a special place in his heart for Todd, the new boy at Welton. He loved puppies and poetry and soft scarves. Not the scratchy ones, as those irritated his neck. He wanted to be an actor in the future, but his father wanted him to be a doctor. He loved so many things, and yet could not have them; however, he definitely hated when people felt sorry for him.

So, you weren’t sorry. You felt his desires like a burning in your gut, stripped away piece by piece, but you were not sorry. You loved him.

You needed him to be fulfilled in every way possible, and you were not sorry. He was going through so many conflicting things, and you were not sorry. You were hopeful.

Life would turn around, you told him. He would see. In ten years, he would be on Broadway, waving at you and Todd and Charlie from the stage. He would be great, and you knew it.

“I’ve never skated like this before. Are you sure it’s safe?” You asked, standing at the edge of Welton’s lake. It was late in fall, with powdery snow dusting the edges of the ground, but the lake may have been in the process of freezing still. Neil took your gloved hands.

“Trust me, it’s good.”

He often asked you to trust him, and you always did. There was just something in his deep, dark eyes that whispered exactly how strong he was.

You took a tentative step onto the ice, nose already feeling the cold burn of pre-winter air. The ground under your feet was slick, but it held. Neil walked backwards, gently guiding you, and you followed.

You found a sort of rhythm in the movements, pushing off with your feet and letting them slide forward on the ice. Neil’s face was tinged with red as you skated on flat shoes, never letting go of your hands. You laughed, truly and honestly. The world spun around you in a blur, white and brown and beautiful. The air snuck through the gaps on your clothes, but you did not care. In that second, it was just you and Neil and the most beautiful day you had ever known.

His eyes softened when he looked at you. Even through the lack of words, he knew exactly what you were thinking. That crinkle by your eyes, the curve of your lips, your laugh. You were content, happy even, because he brought you here. When you reached the middle of the lake, leaning against him, trusting him, he felt a fluttering in his stomach. 

Throughout his days with you, he had come to discover the person behind the book, behind the shy smile. He could firmly say that he knew you, and he loved you even more for it.

He knew your favorite book, which jokes made you laugh so hard tears formed in your eyes, your favorite ice cream flavor. It wasn’t his, but it was completely and entirely you. There was nothing he adored more in the world than you.

You stared at him with a smile gracing your lips as you came to a stop. He reached his hand up to your face and brushed a small snowflake away from the corner of your mouth gently. His hands were soft.

He leaned in closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating from his face. It was now or never, he thought. Carpe diem.

Neil pressed his lips to yours, and all of your feelings exploded from your connected flesh like dynamite.

He was warm, so warm. You kissed him fervently with your arms wrapped around his shoulders like you were dancing. He had finally done it, put to action the kind thoughts he had expressed, and you were glowing. There were stars in your tightly shut eyes, and you reveled in how they spun.

Neil’s mind was racing as you didn’t pull away. He didn’t know what he expected, but you pulling him closer was not his first thought. He most definitely didn’t mind.

When you finally broke the kiss, you were both panting feverishly and looking starved for more. Your combined breaths hung in front of your faces.

“We should do that again.” He whispered. You huffed a laugh, feeling every bit as blushy as he looked.

“Only if you’re okay with never stopping.”

It was a week and a half before Neil’s big play, and the twenty-fourth (maybe twenty-fifth, you had lost count) time you saw him. It was also your tenth official date.

“Date” may have been a loose term, as it was more practicing lines than talking, but the atmosphere was quiet and calm at the café you sat in. There were grainy pictures of favorite customers on the wall and the chairs were just the right amount of wobbly. It felt like a place where you could relax without abandon. Neil’s hand was on top of yours and he was staring deep into your eyes as he spoke line after line, trying to steel his nerves and push past the stress of his approaching deadline.

“If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended, that you have but slumber’d here while these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream, gentles, do not reprehend: if you pardon, we will mend: and, as I am an honest Puck, if we have unearned luck…” He hesitated for a moment, eyes unfocused. You squeezed his hand in support and he gave you a small smile. Clearing his throat, he continued. “…now to ‘scape the serpent’s tongue, we will make amends ere long; else the Puck a liar call; so, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends.” 

You gave a quiet cheer and clasped your hands together. “I think that was your best runthrough yet! I’m so proud of you.”

His eyes lit up as he gazed at you bashfully. “You think?”

“Absolutely. You’re good, you’re really good. You could probably perform tomorrow if you wanted to.” He smiled and ran his fingers over his fleece sleeves as you spoke. If you were in the audience, he was sure he would be able to do anything. “In fact, you could perform any time you wanted to. You’re just that amazing.”

You were so impressed by the sheer amount of talent and emotion he had that you just couldn’t help but smother him in compliments. Every single one was true.

Neil tucked a piece of hair behind his ear, blushing like a madman. Every time you said something kind about him, his heart leapt for joy. “What about you? What have you been working on?” He posed. He had heard your poetry before, of course, but you always seemed to be creating something new.

You pulled out a book from the bag sitting next to you and flipped around. There was one specific poem you wanted him to hear. One you had written about him.

When you found it, you turned the book sideways so you both could see and pointed at it. “This one.” Neil tilted his head, opening his mouth to read it aloud. “I think, 

if I was blind,

I would still know your face.

The curve of your nose would call to me

and your eyelids would flutter under my touch.

There is no one else, no one at all

who could make the pads of my fingers

see the entire world.”

He gazed up at you with a starstruck expression. “Is this about anyone in particular?” Neil leaned forward and dipped his head down to rest on his propped-up hand. He had a grin on his face. He absolutely knew who it was about.

“I wrote that one for Meeks. He’s just so cute, don’t you think?” You teased. Neil’s mouth dropped open as his expression turned to comical shock. 

“I’m wounded, my love! How dare you.” He shouted, throwing his arms up. You started laughing as he continued his theatrical expressions, much to the dismay of the café workers.

“Be careful, we might get thrown out!”

“I’ll throw you out myself if you don’t stop laughing at my demise.” He furrowed his eyebrows and scrunched his nose as you giggled from your seat. “I’m so lucky to have you.” He murmured, suddenly as soft as a spring rain. You ran your fingers over his hand underneath the table, finding every groove like it was your own.

“And I’m lucky to have you. I love you, you know.” 

Neil smiled gently. “I love you too. So much.”

You sat in that café for a few hours more, until the workers had to politely remind you of their closing hours. You laughed and talked and felt the sheer joy of being with the boy you had begun to consider your soulmate. He was a star, shining his light and illuminating you with his rays. Too often, however, the brightest lights fade within the snap of a finger.

“I hope that when I die,” Neil wrote, right before your thirty-first meeting,

“God will send me back to Earth.

He will say,

‘Live again. Run again,

hope again,

plunge your body into ice-cold water again. 

Hate again, 

and cry again,

run your fingers through the grass again.

Kiss them again, 

press your palms to their faces again,

and lose them again.

Let yourself feel again,

and never forget

that life is what matters, 

not death.’

And I will say,

‘I promise

to do everything I have ever told myself I could not do

again and again and again.’”

He closed his journal with a thump and tucked it into his drawer calmly. That was something he would rather not share with anyone, not even you. 

The day was cold and drizzly, but he stood up with a kind of manic smile. He walked out of the doors of Welton and into your awaiting arms.

You both sat down on a park bench under the cover of a tree. Your seats were slightly wet and very cold, but it didn’t matter all that much. You were just glad to be there with him, with Neil. He was the love of your life, and any time with him was well-spent.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked softly. He was the same as he always was, you thought. But his eyes were welling up with tears and you just felt the need to ask, like some unearthly force was telling you that you needed to.

He leaned back, putting his arm around the back of the bench with a sigh. “I’m trapped.” He was smiling, but there was such an utter lack of humor behind it that it made you shiver. You shifted closer to him, leaning your head on his shoulder as a silent sign of comfort. By this point, knew everything there was to know about Neil Perry- even the parts he tried to keep hidden.

“How so?”

“I don’t even know, I just… I want to be an actor. That is what I want to do for the rest of my life. But I can’t, and I’m trapped, and no one can help me, no matter how much they try.” His voice was sullen, but he was still smiling. Curse him for trying to make you feel better even then.

You placed a kiss on the back of his hand and threaded your fingers through his. Your heart ached for him. You knew there was nothing you could do about it, though, and that’s what made it even harder. Holding his hand, telling him it’ll all work out, everything ultimately did nothing for his situation, and you cursed the being that forced him into this position. If you could scream into the night, into the big, black sky to execrate the universe, you would. You did, in the future. You regretted not doing it sooner.

“I’m sorry.” You started, squeezing his hand. “ Just keep going, alright? I promise you, in the future, none of this will matter at all. You just have to stick with it. The world will find a way of figuring it out.”

His face formed a more genuine smile as he laid his head on top of yours. “Yeah. I guess it will.”

The last time Neil Perry saw you was the night he had been anticipating, dreaming about, and dreading: the night of his play. He was prepared. He knew every line and cue by heart, and yet he was still nervous. He was so nervous he could hardly think. 

He stood behind the curtains listening to the chatter of the audience. The rest of the cast members and some of the technicians were scrambling to put everything in place, but he just stared at the dark walls of fabric separating him from his new life. That was it. He was going to put on the best performance of his goddamn life.

The lights dimmed, and he stepped away to take his place.

When it was finally time for him to make his entrance, Neil did it with flourish. “How now, spirit! whither wander you?” He spoke. Cheers came from the audience, whoops and hollers from the dead poets. He could hardly keep himself from smiling.

Then, he saw you. You were grinning wide and large from your seat, giving him that quiet encouragement he had always loved. You whispered his name, and Neil could hear it in his heart.

He was having fun. So much fun. With every line he spoke, with every movement he made, Neil was sinking deeper and deeper into the play and his love for acting. He didn’t remember the last time he had ever felt that alive. 

But with every sinking, there comes a point where one drowns.

His father was there. When had he come? Neil hadn’t seen him before. God. He was burning a hole in the back of his head with his piercing gaze, and it took everything in Neil not to turn and run. That was it, he thought. He was done. But gods be good, he was going to finish his play. He would not let his father ruin this for him.

By the time he was speaking his last lines, the ones he had practiced with you, he barely remembered his father was part of the audience. The curtains closed, and the audience exploded into cheers. He could hear your voice, he swore he could- he was the happiest man on Earth. He had put on the performance of his lifetime, and he couldn’t be more proud. Until, of course, he was dragged out the door by his father.

He was back home before he had even registered his father’s anger. All he could feel was emptiness as the gnawing hole in his stomach expanded to encompass his entire being.

“We're trying very hard to understand why it is that you insist on defying us. Whatever the reason, we're not gonna let you ruin your life. Tomorrow I'm withdrawing you from Welton and enrolling you in Braden Military School. You're going to Harvard and you're gonna be a doctor.” His father stated, eyes sharp. Neil let out a noise of protest.

“But that's ten more years. Father, that's a lifetime! I won’t be able to see any of them again, not one person I knew before. You can’t do this to me, you just can’t.” Tears formed in Neil’s eyes, and as he looked at his mother, she was feeling the same way. And yet she said nothing. He could feel himself becoming increasingly more desperate. 

His father scoffed. “Oh, stop it. Don't be so dramatic. You make it sound like a prison term. You don't understand, Neil. You have opportunities that I never even dreamt of and I am not going to let you waste them.”

Neil rose to his feet, suddenly angry. He needed to fight for this, for himself. He couldn’t just let one man take away everything he had ever loved. If he couldn’t see you, his friends, if he couldn’t act, there was no purpose in his life. “I've got to tell you what I feel.”

Neil’s mother reached for him. “We’ve been so worried about-“ 

“What? What? Tell me what you feel. What is it? Is it more of this, this acting business? Because you can forget that. What?” And just like that, it was gone. Neil sat back down, staring blankly at his lap. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do anything because he was just a stupid boy who wouldn’t listen. His father scoffed once again before leaving the room.

His mother, ever the soft one, paused.

“I was good. I was really good.” He whispered. She sighed, urging him to his feet. 

“Go on, get some sleep.”

Neil nodded, still in a trance, before trudging to his room. That was it. He was done. He would never see you again, no matter what, and it hurt him so badly he didn’t know what else to do. He ran his fingers over his things lightly before removing his shirt. That was it. He grasped his crown of twigs and placed it on his head, staring out through his open window. The cool air kissed his body sweetly, like your lips on a rainy day. He took a deep breath.

It was time for his last act, his curtain call, his final carpe diem. There was no warning, and yet there did not need to be one. That night, that cold, bitter night, he knew what he needed to do. 

The last time you saw Neil Perry, he didn’t see you. He couldn’t see you. It was December 18th, and you had been asked to read a poem at his funeral. 

God, the word “funeral” hit you like a train. Neil was dead. His sweet demeanor, his gentle words, his soft hair, they were all going to be covered in dirt within the next few hours. You couldn’t stand it. The world needed so much more of him, but terribly, horribly, the world did not deserve it. No one deserved him.

It was odd, you thought, how the sound of one gunshot could replay over and over again in your mind without you ever having heard it at all. The boom, the thud, the scream. It was all so clear in your mind.

As the priest spoke, you felt an emptiness pool in your guts. He was really gone. Your Neil, your poor Neil. You sat between Charlie and Todd, all three of your faces streaked with tears. You could feel more welling up in your eyes, and you let them free without a care. Neil was dead, and nothing else in the world mattered.

In a way, you couldn’t believe it. He was just here, warm and happy and yours. When you got that phone call, you almost joined him. Nothing was worth it anymore, nothing at all. The eulogies, the sobs, they faded into the background as you stared down at the ground.

Before you knew what was happening, you were standing at a podium with a piece of paper clutched between your shaking fingers. Neil’s mom looked up at you in silent support.

You took a breath, so much like the breaths you always took before reading a poem and yet so different. Neil could not hear this one.

“When you died,

the beetles still sang.

The trout still jumped,

and the earth still rumbled.

When you died, the moon still turned

and the stars still burned.

When you died,” Your voice cracked. Looking out into the audience, at people you didn’t know and people you knew so well you could identify them by a strand of their hair, it was too much. Hot tears slipped their way down your face as the pit in your stomach grew ever-wider. 

“The lakes still rippled 

and the trees still creaked

and I lowered you into the ground

and I cried so hard the world stopped moving.” 

There was a murmur throughout the audience, choked sobs and utters of agreement. “For Neil, who lived as he died and died as he lived.” You rasped.

You were quickly ushered away from the podium and back into your seat.

Neil was one in a million. There was no one else in the history of ever that could make you feel so amazing. Like you were a real person, like you mattered. He made everyone feel that way, but something in him burned for you in a way that you believed was unique. And, of course, you burned for him the same. 

The rest of the service went by in a blur. Everyone around you began to get up, and you knew it was time. As you sat there, still as a rock, when everyone went to say their final farewells, you were extinguished. 

You felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. When you looked up from your tear-soaked lap, Todd was there, and he clasped your hand. “Let’s go.” He whispered. “Let’s say goodbye.”

You pulled a page from the book by your feet and shoved it into your pocket. It was for him, it always was and it always had been.

“In some other universe, I found you again.

Maybe in this one we held hands, gently and honestly,

or leaned against each other’s shoulders on the train,

or sobbed against each other’s shirts when we crashed and burned,

because anything with you

means flying too close to the sun.” It read. 

As you stood in front of his casket, you could hardly bear to focus on his pale face.

He was cold, so cold. The embalmer had done well with his head, but there was so much that just looked off. He didn’t look like your Neil. He looked empty. You gripped his hand and brushed a lock of hair away from his eyes. It was winter, and he was colder and paler than the snow.

You held him far longer than what was deemed socially acceptable before tucking the page into his lapel and swiftly walking away.

You weren’t there for his burial, and you knew you couldn’t be. It was just too much. If you had seen his casket close, if you had watched them shovel dirt on top of the wooden box, you would’ve dropped to your knees and screamed. Much like you’re doing now.

You sat on that same old park bench, knees clutched up to your soaked chest, sobbing harder than you ever had before. Your Neil was gone and you could never see him again, not ever.

When you saw Neil Perry for the last time, and god, did you see him, you knew nothing would ever be the same again.

#solar eclipse. #neil perry x reader #neil perry #neil perry imagine #dead poets society x reader #dead poets society #dead poets fandom #dead poets fanfic #dps fandom #dps hcs #dps fanfiction #dps boys #dps fic #dps #x reader #angst #fluff

[ash5monster01]

hii!! could you write something for charlie dalton and an insecure reader (they are already dating)? ive been feeling kind of ugly lately😭😭 tysm

I’m so sorry this has taken me so long, I hope everything has been going okay. Insecurities can really suck sometimes, but we just have to remember we’re all beautiful in our own way <3

Perfectly Me

Pairing: Charlie Dalton x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, self doubt, insecurities, anxiety

Summary: Dating cool and confident Charlie is proven to be hard when most of the time you’re insecure about everything about yourself.

word count: 1.1k

Masterlist

Charlie had always been Charlie. You weren’t entirely sure where he got it from. Somehow after all these years in boarding school he had found a confidence that set him apart from the others. You had never met anyone else that had lived life with their chin so high and smile so wide. He was confident, fun, popular, and you felt everything but. When he had chosen you it was shocking. How could daring and brave Charlie seek out the only girl that kept her head ducked and mouth shut. Yet somehow he did and everyday since you had been questioning why.

Especially on days like today. Days where Charlie’s laugh bellowed loudly through the lunch room as you sat quiet as a mouse beside him. Girls looked on with adoring looks and boys laughed after every sentence that left his mouth. His presence was large, everyone saw him, everyone liked him. It was so intense that as you sat beside the boy you loved you felt more invisible then ever, especially to him. He didn’t see you, there is no way he could have. You were nothing but an inanimate object beside him and you had only ended up in this position from a cruel trick of fate. Not only were you now invisible but humiliated because you couldn’t compare to him. You never could.

When the bell sounds you’re the first out the door. You didn’t want to wait and see if Charlie even acknowledged you, it would hurt too much if he didn’t. You barely went noticed as you left anyway so it would be no surprise if he didn’t notice either. But he did. His proud look turning into one of confusion as he spotted your form rushing away. He had wanted to kiss you, stare into your pretty eyes for a moment longer, but you were gone in the blink of an eye. He wondered why, it almost feeling like you were trying to escape him. This very thought plagued him the rest of the day as he awaited a moment to see you again.

Once classes were over it took him forever to find you. He felt like he had turned Welton upside down in search of you until he finally found you curled up on a window seat in the library. Your eyes were cast downward at the book in your hands, your forehead pressed against the cool glass of the window where you sat. You were so beautiful and his heart yearned deeply for you in that very moment. He wished you didn’t feel so far away. He just wanted you two to be okay. As much as he talked about always having a girlfriend he never thought he’d be lucky enough to have one, especially you.

“Found you” you jump slightly at the sound of his husky voice. He’s lifting your feet and sliding beside you before you can react. He doesn’t make any notion that the window is cold against his back as he finally looks at you.

“I wasn’t hiding” you finally say, a bit nervous in his presence which you hated.

“Felt like it” the sad way he drops his gaze from you makes your heart clench. You hadn’t meant to hurt him but he had unintentionally been hurting you.

“I know” you whisper and Charlie looks up to see the sad expression you wear, one that matched his own.

“Can you tell me why?” he asks and you notice how small he seems here. He isn’t loud and proud Charlie, he’s your boyfriend who’s afraid you’re going to say something that hurts him and even worse you know what you have to say is going too.

“I don’t know why you’re with me Charlie” you say, officially closing your book and giving him your full attention.

“What do you mean?” he asks and you bring your hands to your face, sighing into them before looking up again.

“I’m not like you Charlie. You’re good looking, popular, outgoing. I’m just not” you say, exasperated and tired of not only being insecure about everything else in your life but about this too.

“Yes you are!” and this has you chuckling dryly, so tired of being lied to.

“No Charlie, I know it, you know it, and the rest of these imbeciles do too” you say, arms crossing over you chest and Charlie sighs as he presses a hand to his forehead.

“You are to me” he says calmly and you feel your heart rate accelerate at the confession. Charlie dares a glance at you to see your face flooded with sadness and confusion. He had never meant to make you feel small. “You’re the only girl for me. Maybe you’re not all that outgoing but that’s okay. I need someone who is going to bring me down to earth. I wanted to kiss my girlfriend today before she left after lunch and instead I watched her run away from me. I don’t try to make you feel worthless, I’m just so used to being loud and bold to hide the fact that I’m terrified my life won’t turn out the way I want it to. The only thing I’m sure of is you”

“Is that true?” you ask and Charlie chuckles even though none of this conversation is meant to be funny.

“It’s the most true thing I’ve said all week” he tells you and finally you take a good look at your doe eyed boyfriend. His floppy brown hair hangs in his eyes and the crooked smile on his face is still only ever directed at you. He loves you the way you love him, for all the things neither of you are. So you scoot forward and wrap your arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry I assumed the worst of you” you tell him and he gives you a tight lipped smile that you happily lean forward and kiss.

“I’m sorry I expected too much of you” Charlie apologizes in return and you smile before locking your lips with his own again. Pulling yourself closer to him your book slides from your lap and lands with a loud thud that has you both giggling quietly in the back corner of the library. Charlie doesn’t care about the attention it might’ve brought and kisses you good and hard again.

The best thing about Charlie is no matter how insecure you are, at least he will always be there for you. You balanced each other out and balance was the most important key to life. Balance love, balance work and art, and you shall be free.

#charlie dalton x femreader #charlie dalton fic #charlie dalton x reader #charlie dalton fanfic #charlie dalton dps #charlie dalton smut #charlie dalton imagine #charlie dps #charlie dalton series #charlie dalton #gale hansen #dps imagine #dps au #dps fanfiction #dps boys #dps fic #dps fandom #dps #dps headcanons #dead poets society imagines #dead poets society series #dead poets society #dead poets society fandom #dead poets society fanfiction #neil perry #todd anderson #steven meeks #gerard pitts #richard cameron #knox overstreet

[augiewrites]

“under the neon glow” - charlie dalton

summary: charlie convinces y/n to sneak out

paring: charlie dalton x gender neutral reader

word count: 1.1k

Y/N knew they were pushing their luck being in Charlie’s room so late at night, but Cameron was on a rare trip home and the couple would be stupid to pass up the opportunity.

And what an opportunity it was.

Y/N and Charlie were tangled up with each other in his small bed, the boy leaving a trail of kisses from Y/N’s lips to their neck.

“Don’t you dare give me a hickey, Dalton,” Y/N’s voice was stern, but there was a smile teasing their lips and they made no move to make him stop.

Charlie blew a raspberry into their neck before lightly sinking his teeth into the soft skin, “I wouldn’t dream of it, sweets.”

Y/N held back a squeal as best as they could��they didn’t want to take any risks to make this night end. They softly grabbed Charlie’s face and led his lips back to theirs.

“We should go somewhere,” Charlie mumbled against their lips.

“You’re joking, right?” Y/N laughed, breaking the kiss.

Charlie smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye—one that Y/N knew very well.

“Why not?”

Y/N mocked a thoughtful look, “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because your partner is currently in your bed, and your roommate isn’t here to barge in on us?”

“You know I’d never let him stop me.”

“You’re disgusting, Charlie,” the smile on Y/N’s face took any bite out of their words.

“Come on Y/N, live a little.”

“If we get caught—“

Charlie expertly untangled himself from Y/N and crawled over them and out of the bed before they could even finish their thought. He had thrown on a sweater and had one shoe on before Y/N even made it to a sitting position.

One of Charlie’s sweatshirts gently smacked them in the face and fell into their lap as they moved to pick their own shirt up off the floor.

“Really?”

Charlie feigned innocence, “I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold, Y/N.”

Y/N rolled their eyes at the boy, but pulled the sweater on nonetheless. It was one Y/N had their eye on for a while—oversized, a soft fabric of their favorite color, and (most importantly) it smelled of Charlie.

They were both aware he wouldn’t be getting it back any time soon.

“Where are we even going?”

“You’ll see,” Charlie pressed a chaste kiss to their lips before pulling them toward the door, “you’re going to love it.”

_________________________________________

Thanks to the dead poets society, the couple had become experts at sneaking away from Welton in the dead of the night. In mere minutes, Charlie had hijacked Knox’s bike, and Y/N was perched behind him on the seat as he pedaled toward town.

Y/N always felt so free when they were with Charlie. Tonight was no different—Y/N’s heart was soaring as they wrapped their arms tighter around his torso and felt the wind blowing through their hair.

Charlie was going much faster than he should have been with two people on the bike, and they arrived at their destination much faster than Y/N would have liked. Steadying themselves with their hands on Charlie’s hips, they maneuvered off the back of the bike. A bright neon sign buzzed lowly through the window in front of the bike rack.

OPEN 24/7

Charlie wrapped his arms around Y/N from behind, pressing a kiss just below their ear and murmuring, “Hungry?”

They turned their head to meet his lips, “Starved.”

He moved in front of them, opening the door and beckoning them through.

“Such a gentleman.”

“One of the last living few.”

Charlie took Y/N’s hand and led them to a booth in the corner. A bored looking waitress dropped off two menus that Charlie promptly pushed aside and ignored until she circled back around.

“What’ll you two have?” The waitress drolled.

“A basket of fries and a chocolate malt,” Charlie winked at Y/N, “two straws.”

The waitress didn’t bother to say anything, walking away once she wrote down the order.

Y/N raised their brow at the boy sitting across from them. Charlie simply smirked back.

“You trying to live out your Archie comics fantasy?”

“I wouldn’t correct you if you called me Archie for the rest of the night.”

Y/N hummed as they tapped their chin, pretending to inspect the boy’s features.

“You look more like a Jughead,” Y/N tisked, “my view from here, at least.”

Charlie held a hand over his heart and dramatically leaned forward in his seat, “I think you need a closer look.”

Y/N scooted closer to the window as Charlie moved around the table and slid into the booth next to them. He wrapped his arm around their waist and pulled them away from the window and into his side.

“How about now?”

“I think your main character syndrome is kicking in, Archie,” Y/N teased.

“Aren’t I though?” Charlie grinned. “Breaking out of prison to have a night out on the town with the most exquisite creature I’ve ever laid eyes on? Sounds like a main character to me.”

“Oh,” Y/N scoffed, “so you get to be the main character, but I’m a creature?”

“An exquisite one, Y/N.”

“You are so—“

Y/N was cut off by the waitress unceremoniously placing their fries and malt on the table in front of them. She pulled two straws out of her apron and not-so subtly rolled her eyes at the couple as she tossed them on the table. Charlie stopped the straws from rolling off as she turned and walked away.

“This diner has a Michelin star, did you know?”

Y/N burst into a fit of giggles as he blew the straw paper at their chest.

Charlie beamed at Y/N and popped a couple fries in his mouth. They fell into a comfortable silence as Y/N sipped on the malt.

Charlie moved to take a drink of the malt, but quickly darted his head to the side to press a kiss to Y/N’s cheek just as his lips were about to meet the straw. Y/N pulled back from their straw, gently grasping Charlie’s chin and pulling him in for a soft kiss.

“Can I tell you something?” Y/N blurted out as they pulled away.

“I’ve never stopped you before,” Charlie grinned, “don’t plan on starting now.”

“I think I’m in love with you.” Y/N’s cheeks flushed and their pulse quickened despite their best efforts to calm themselves.

“Well, I know I’m in love with you,” Charlie kissed Y/N again as relief flooded their system, “it’s a main character thing.”

#charlie dalton #charlie dalton x reader #dead poets society #dead poets society x reader #dps #dps boys #dps fanfiction #dps x reader #dps fandom #dps fic

[cookiesandgrapess]

did you get enough love, my little dove

why do you cry?

and i’m sorry i left, but it was for the best

though it never felt right

my little versailles.

#dead poets society #anderperry #dead poets headcanons #dps au #dead poets au #neil perry #todd anderson #todd and neil #charlie dalton #steven meeks #gerard pitts #knox overstreet #richard cameron #dps #dps fandom #dead poets in nyc #dps fic #dead poets fanart #poetry #fps #music #sufjan stevens #fourth of july #i’m sorry #artistic #concept art #dps memes #mr keating #art #dark acadamia aesthetic

[bproccoli]

"Todd!" Charlie threw the door open, startling the two people in the room. One of them stood on a chair while the other was half-kneeling on the floor. "What are you doing?"

"Practicing." Neil explained as he got up. "He's Oberon and I'm Puck."

"Uh-huh. Sure." Charlie leaned on the doorframe. "Well, Oberon, get your ass down that chair. We have a game to win."

"Right, the game." Todd repeated in realization. "I forgot."

"I figured." Charlie replied. "I've since learned to accept the fact that I'll always be second to Neil."

"That's not true." Neil smirked at him. "You probably rank even lower than that."

"What are you talking about?" Todd jumped down from the chair, shoving the script onto Neil's hands. "I treat everyone the same way."

Neil and Charlie looked at each other.

"No. No. There's definitely a ranking and Neil's number one." Charlie said. "Everyone can see that."

"Yeah, I'm the favorite." Neil agreed, nodding.

"No, you're not." Todd argued. He looked at Charlie's disbelieving expression and insisted, "He's not!"

"I'm not?"

"No! I don't have a favorite."

"A good moral, my lord: It is not enough to speak, but to speak true." Neil read from the script before showing it to Todd. "See? Shakespeare said lying's bad."

"Shut up. Who's your favorite, then?"

"You."

Todd, who was caught off guard, stood unmoving for a significant amount of time.

"There goes my teammate." Charlie commented by the door before turning around and walking away. "Meeks! Look for another player. We got a man down."

#the other player they recruited was stick #he's MY favorite #anderperry are each other's favorite #dead poets society #dps #dps fandom #anderperry #neil perry #todd anderson #dps fic #dps hcs #dps fanfiction #dps headcanons #neil x todd #todd x neil #dead poets #my fics

[inahallucination]

 knox: im just so SICK and TIRED of people telling me i have a ‘gay vibe’. like ??? straight people exist !!! and i AM ONE OF THEM! like??? I have no problem with the lgbt people but im NOT ONE OF THEM. AND IM SICK OF HAVING TO EXPLAIN MYSELF.

the poets:

the poets:

neil: knox literally a month ago you said ‘yeah, i don’t care about gender as long as theyre hot’ 

knox:

the poets:

knox: oh

//

keatings: okay now get with your assigned partner to discuss the reading

todd:

pitts:

todd, an introvert:

pitts, an introvert: 

*5 minutes later*

keating: okay did everyone discuss something interesting ?

todd and pitts, who just kind of stared at each other: *nodding*

//

keating: you have to write these responses so I know you read your readings

charlie’s response: i think willy boy here needs to stop writing plays and go to therapy

keating, nodding: yes he definitely read the plays

//

keating: okay todd, its your turn to present your work

todd: *presents*

keating, turning to the class: any commentary ?

some student: that was good, i liked it

neil, nodding immediately, not quite wiping that lovestruck look off yet: yeah, todd ! u were really good ! i especially liked *very specific detail*

todd, shyly: thank you :)

some other student: yeah i liked the second one-

neil, cutting in: I liked the second one too, but I don’t think I could really pick a favorite 

todd, literally only listening to neil: thanks neil :))

some other student: could you explain why you chose-

neil cutting in again: like wow todd, I’mma be thinking about this for the rest of the day :) you were literally amazing

todd, still only really hearing neil: jfakdsfj thank you <33

*later*

neil, ready to bring up todd for the 7534987 time: yeah I liked ur presentation sticks, that part about the butterfly reminded me of todd’s! like how todd used it as a metaphor for -

todd, blushing pretending not to hear:

the rest of the class: 

keating:

the rest of the class:

stick:

keating:

all of them, minus todd and neil: 

//

meeks: hey i know its 11:50 and our project is due at 11:59 but what if we added background music

pitts:

pitts: meeks

pitts: ur such a GENIUS OH MY GOD YES WE SHOULD

meeks: i mean it cant possibly make it worse right ???

pitts: yeah ! we’re gonna fail anyway so we might as add music at 11:59

meeks: ok turned it in

pitts: maybe the music will distract from how much this sucked ass lmao

meeks: lmao

(they both end up getting 100% becuz theyre /those/ kids

//

charlie: i am actually a very observant person

cameron: yeah i don’t beleive you

charlie: no like seriously; i take one look at people and i just know them

charlie: like, okay, see that group *points* i bet you theyre all potheads; like you cant tell but htey give off this vibe ya know

cameron:

charlie: yeah im amazing

cameron: charlie, are you talking about the group actively smoking pot ?

//

keating: like, for example, the hit song WAP

cameron: excuse me? but what’s that

the class:

keating: 

(ok probably not but he’d the only teacher who’s name i remember and that fits cam so)

//

#im just going through my drafts and publishing shit #this is shit i hear at uni btw #deadpoets #dead poets #dead poets society #dps headcanon #dps fic #dps fandom #anderperry

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

#dr james wilson #dr james wilson x reader #house md #james wilson #dr james wilson x peds!reader #house x wilson #dr house #dr house x reader #house x reader #james wilson x peds!reader #dead poets society #dps art #dps fic #dps headcanons #todd anderson #todd and neil #todd anderson x neil perry #todd anderson x reader #dead poets memes #dead poets aesthetic #dead poets fandom

[the-stars-laureate]

𝚂𝚘 𝙺𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝙼𝚎

steven meeks x fem!reader

summary: a cute study session between friends turns into a budding romance. Short and sweet. notes: My first dps fic!! hope you enjoy!!

The November chill infected the dorm room’s air as the two friends attempted to revise for upcoming exams. One, a dishevelled red-head, sat stooped over countless textbooks, notes, pens and paper, his round glasses nearly falling off of his nose. The other was his much less motivated best friend. She was sprawled out across a small but comfortable bed (which belonged to the aforementioned red-head) staring out of the rain splattering across the windows, instead of the chemistry notes in her hands.

“Stevie… I don't know if I can take much more of this nerd stuff. I’m cold! And bored!” The whine in her voice was desperate. Chemistry sucks.

“I'm nearly done, I promise. If you're that bored, why don't you listen to your music? And grab a jumper to warm you up.”

Using all the energy left in her body, she rolled off the bed and headed for Steven's wardrobe, found the comfiest looking jumper available and pulled it over their head.

“You know Steven, some might consider this a grandad jumper, I feel about eighty in it.” she teased, turning to the record player.

“It’s a good job you’re not one of those people then. Don’t let that get too loud, we’ll get in trouble” his voice was just above a whisper, thick with exhaustion.

No response was voiced, but the record player clicked on. Fingers sorting through the selection of vinyl, she came across the album ‘Sixpence None the Richer’. Carefully, she took it from its sleeve and let it begin to spin before flopping back on to the bed.

As the third song reached its middle, Steven suddenly stood up from the desk before dramatically flopping next to the girl on his bed. By the beginning of the fourth track, the pair had managed to sit up on the bed, facing one another.

“This one is your favourite, right?” Steven asked her. Of course he knew, he knew everything about her.

“It is, I'm sure you’re sick of it but I just can’t get enough.”

“If you like it, then i could never get sick of it,” He looked at her as if she was the most incredible thing in the world. To him, she was. If only he could tell her. “You look very pretty this evening, I'm sorry I've ignored you all night.”

“You’ve hardly ignored me, the whole point is that we were supposed to study, i just get bored easily,” Had she heard him right, had he really said that? “You think I'm pretty?”

Carpe Diem. Seize the day.

“Always have, just never had the guts to say it,” He leaned in close, sweeping a bit of hair behind her ear. At this distance, he could feel the warmth radiating from her heart.

“Stevie, listen to the song”

“Huh?”

“Kiss me, Meeks. Please.”

He didn’t even have to consider it. His slightly chapped lips were on her soft ones instantly, engaged in an intimate romance the pair had separately daydreamed of for years.

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” He asked his love, before they began to kiss once again, passionate but slow.

Eventually, the pair fell into the bed, but their lips never parted for long. For the rest of the night, they shared languid kisses and a warm embrace, before finally falling asleep tangled in each other's arms. They’d have to discuss this new found adoration for one another in the morning, but until then, they slept safe in the knowledge that they had finally expressed their desires.

#steven meeks #steven meeks x reader #meeks #dead poets society #dps #dps boys #dps fic #neil perry #charlie dalton #todd anderson #fanfic #allelon ruggiero

[sulsulellison]

hello! I would like to know if you could do something where Meeks is starting to date a girl and he is still very shy or also something where Charlie the other poets discover being cute with his girlfriend and he gets a little shy about it

the shy type

steven meeks x fem!reader

dating a shy person can be nerve wracking (especially if both parties are shy)

dates werent bad in any way but they tended to be on the down low

like study dates in the library, going out to eat at cafes, and movies in theaters

one might hear that and think he was a 12 year old boy asking out his first crush on a date

steven just likes quiet spaces where talking too much or too loud is looked down apon

that was all fun and just being with each other was enough

however, one day, meeks wanted to stay in his dorm room and sleep rather than go and study

as you and him were lying on his bed reading, charlie came in looking for gerards notes to steal (instead of camerons for once)

in typical fashion, charlie didnt bother to knock

his jaw dropped (hes dramatic)

keep in mind, moments before this only your best friend and gerard knew about you and steven

he felt like he had just caught you two red handed

"since when?" "wait, how? how did HE get a girl to like HIM?"

no time was given for you to respond before more of the guys to walk in on you and steven

cameron simpily hit charlie on the head and told him to leave you two alone cause, quote, "no one needs him in their relationship"

which surprisingly worked for the time being (aka a week)

since being seen by charlie, meeks started to be more public with you but only with the other poets and some of your friends

dates didnt change much but you did get invited to one of their dead poets meetings

it was exciting for you

especially when steven went to hold your hand, he was extremely hesitant, and you could still feel his hand shack as he held yours

once it was his turn, he continued to hold yours as he read off a poem, he recently found about some pretty mountain range

he has a nervous studder like most shy people, but you had never heard it as prominent as it was now

he didnt want to mess up in front of you (and all the poets shooting curious and excited stares at you and meeks)

(^they are very happy for you both but are still surprised that he knows how to show love with how shy he was known to be)

it took him a few months before he even dared to kiss you or even just on the cheek in front of everyone

he wasnt big with pda

but neil found your relationship endearing and would take goofy, paparazzi like pictures of you and steven in the halls or the library to later send you and make lighthearted jokes (theyre hilariou)

#dead poets society #dead poets headcanons #dead poets society fandom #dps #dps boys #steven meeks #steven meeks x reader #dps steven #charlie dalton #neil perry #dps fandom #dps fanfiction #dps fic #dps hc #fandom #fanfic #dead poets fanfic #comfort #fluff #headcanons #stephen meeks #meeks #dead poets society x reader #dead poets live #dead poets society characters #dead poets aesthetic

[theeslutintheroom]

NEED

MORE

CHARLIE

DALTON

IMAGINES

#charlie dalton #charlie dalton x reader #dps fandom #dps fic #dps fanfiction

[slugtowns]

Writing a fic and got to a part where Todd shows his parents something he was proud of only for them to brush it off and talk about his brother and as I was writing, the "always an angel never a god" part of Not Strong Enough came on and I just had to sit back for a second and be devastated because why does it fit so well and right as I was writing that part too :')

#dead poets society #dead poets fandom #dps fic #dps #todd anderson

[applebyraven]

or: “Food?” Meeks appeared, perplexed, but his expression brightened upon glimpsing Neil's culinary creation. “Food! Actual food that looks edible!”

just posted the third chapter of our ours! (dps anderperry-centric fic with chameron as the side pair and mitts if you squint in which the poets buy a house together after welton and have found-familystic shenanigans) - you can read the latest update here!

#anderperry #dps #dead poets society #our ours #chameron #mitts #neil perry #todd anderson #charlie dalton #richard cameron #gerard pitts #stephen meeks #knox overstreet #dps fic #dps fanfiction #anderperry fic #anderperry fanfiction

[ash5monster01]

hey, could you do a neil perry x fem!reader where he (and maybe the boys) comfort her..maybe she’s ill/period or even just a nightmare.

it’s okay if not !

Sick Days

Pairing: Neil Perry x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, mentions of being sick, language

Summary: Being sick is easily the worst thing that can happen at Welton but at least you have the absolute best friends in the world to make it better, especially your caring boyfriend.

word count: 1.1k

Masterlist

Nothing is worse at Welton than being sick. Being sick was guaranteed to put you behind in classes, get other students to avoid you at all costs, and keep you from spending time with your boyfriend. On top of all of this, you also had your period. Nothing was more demeaning than being the sick girl at a mainly boys school with your time of the month tagging along. So even though you weren’t a very emotional person you had found yourself softly crying in your dorm bed after the nurse had told you to stay on bed rest for the rest of the week. What a load of crap.

The other bad thing was if you missed classes absolutely everyone knew. You were more than likely the talk to the school by third period because absolutely nothing else of excitement ever happened here. So while you were locked away in your dorm room everyone got to gossip about your absence. Which was how Neil had found out. He had confirmed the information with your roommate who had been given permission to sleep in another dorm until you had recovered. If he knew you like he thought he did you were no doubt heartbroken that you now had to die of boredom alone in your dorm. You’d rather go to class and that was saying something.

So with this information he devised a plan. One his friends help set in motion considering they all loved you just as much as he did. They snuck out of their dorms often for Dead Poets meetings in the old Indian Cave so what could it hurt to sneak out and hold a very silent meeting in your dorm. Neil knew you’d be awake, upset and bored to death from having to spend the entire day alone with piles of homework dropped off in your dorm. So it’s no surprise when he opens the door to your dorm and your head lifts from your bed at the small creaking noise that came from it. “Neil”

“Hey baby, how’re you?” he whispers out, heart aching for you and how sick you look. Your covers are wrapped tightly around you and your face is quite pale. The bed infront of you is covered in the homework you must’ve been actively working at, desperate to keep yourself ahead even if you are sick. He doesn’t miss the way your lip quivers at his question and he feels guilty for asking. “Oh honey”

Neil doesn’t care about getting sick, he sits beside you in the bed and pulls you into his arms. It was his job to comfort his girl after all, so he kisses your head, and holds you while you softly cry into his chest.

“I hate being so secluded” you tell him with teary eyes and his eyes soften towards you as he uses his thumbs to brush them away.

“I know, it’s the worst. Which is why we’re here” he tells you and your eyebrows furrow in confusion as he says we’re.

“Did the boys come too?” you ask and Neil chuckles and nods before pressing one more kiss to your face before he gets picked on for doing so.

“They didn’t want our best girl being lonely either” he says as he stands and goes back to the door. Your heart clenches from him leaving your side, needing him close to you. He opens the door and you’re met with the smiling faces of each of the boys who file into your room, some sitting on your roommates bed and the others on the ground.

“Hey guys” you smile widely at them, the whisper falling from your lips.

“Hey doll, feeling better?” Charlie is the first to respond, his signature flirty smirk on his face.

“I am now” you tell him as Neil comes back to sit at your side, arm wrapping around you.

“Our first silent meeting” Neil whispers to the group and the boys whisper hoot and cheer which has you giggling lightly into Neil’s shoulder.

“Should be easy for Todd” Knox teases and you all silently laugh at the blonde boy whose cheeks have now burned red.

“Impossible for Charlie though” Cameron adds and Charlie kicks the boy with his foot from where he sits on the bed which instantly has the red headed glaring at him.

“Alright, settle down gentlemen. Let’s take a look at our refreshments” Meeks says, reaching into the pockets of his coat and pulling out mountains of snacks him and the boys had collected. Your stomach grumbles at the sight, thinking of the chicken broth and crackers you had been brought for both lunch and dinner. You were practically starved.

“Oh Pitt’s, please pass me a cookie” you call out and the tall boy obeys, plucking a cookie from one of the snack piles and leaning over to hand it to you. You smile thankfully at him and stuff half the cookie into your mouth.

“Someone seems happy?” Neil teases as you finish the cookie and you smile at him.

“So happy, I wish I wasn’t sick so I could kiss you right now” you tell him and the boys quietly ooh which has Neil waving them off.

“I’ll be waiting the moment you get better” he tells you and you smile softly at him, wishing you could show him how happy he has made you. You vow the moment you are better you’ll kiss the shit out of him.

“Okay lovebirds, let’s get this meeting started” Charlie says a touch too loud with the clap of his hands and the boys instantly shush him. He holds his hands up in defense and Neil chuckles before pulling the book out of his jacket. You watch him fondly as he reads the opening statement and when he finishes you place a kiss on his cheek.

“We can leave if you ever get too tired or don’t feel good” Neil whispers to you and you shake your head, looking fondly over each of the boys.

“No, stay. I want you all to stay” the happiness of the others surrounding you being the only thing to make you feel better all day.

“Even if Charlie reads a stupid poem?” he asks and you chuckle and nod.

“I’d actually prefer it” you tell him and he grins, eyes also glancing at his friends who were so good to come and help cheer you up. The only girl he has ever loved.

“Then we’ll stay, until you feel better” and you nod, content with that answer and content with the friends you were so lucky to have.

“I want you all to stay forever”

#neil perry x femreader #neil perry fic #neil perry fanfic #neil perry x reader #neil perry imagine #neil perry #neil perry blurb #neil perry series #neil perry smut #dps imagine #dps au #dps fanfiction #dps headcanons #dps boys #dps fic #dps fandom #dps #dead poets society imagines #dead poets society neil perry #dead poets society series #dead poets society fanfiction #dead poets society #dead poets au #dead poets fandom #dead poets fanfic #dead poets headcanons #charlie dalton #knox overstreet #todd anderson #steven meeks

[ameriewadiasbangs]

i finally gave in and started a dead poets chatfic because we’re starving for still updating content

pls enjoy

#dead poets society #dps fandom #dps fanfiction #dps #dps boys #dps fic #chat fic #chatfic #archive of our own #ao3 #dead poets fanfic #anderperry #knarlie #todd anderson #neil perry #charlie dalton #knox overstreet #steven meeks #gerard pitts #richard cameron #yes im adding a million tags because this will find the right audience #dead poets fandom #dps chatfic

[cookiesandgrapess]

Dead Poet Headcannons

- neil is a huge hopeless romantic, and is constantly professing his love to others wether he means to or not

- neil and charlie have a long running competition from their first year together of seeing who can take the quickest shower (neil has never lost)

- todd is incredibly good with animals and like to feed birds and squirrels when he goes on walks

- charlie loves to have his hair played with but he won’t ever admit it

- neil started smoking when he was 12 because of his dad. and he can’t get himself to stop

- meeks sorts his halloween candy by color

- cameron sorts his halloween candy by size

- pitts thinks both of them are stupid and usually eats all his candy before he even gets home

- todd owns at least 20 sweaters and has one in every color. half of todd’s sweaters are too big on him but they fit neil perfectly so he keeps them

-knox has no sense of direction and gets lost in the woods almost every time they go out

-the first time todd and neil kissed infront of the poets was when neil almost blurted out a secret of todd’s and todd kissed him to get neil to shut up.

- pitts is a huge softie for romcoms and cries at almost every one he’s ever seen

- neil has constant nightmares that todd has to help him with almost every other night. neil finds them embarrassing but todd just likes the excuse of being able to be near neil

-charlie gives all the poets nicknames that are both incredibly endearing and funny

- the poets have only seen todd angry once and that was after someone insulted neil in front of them. ( poets have never been more scared of todd in their life and they refuse to ever get on todd’s bad side)

- the first thing todd ever noticed about neil was his eyes. he likes to tell neil they are kind and loving looking and it makes neil cry every time

- meeks’s favorite animal is a cat and he has a tabby named Einstein.

- neil loves hugs and constantly asks todd for them as well as charlie

- neil doesn’t think he deserves to be loved after his father. and charlie thinks he’s unlovable

#i’m sorry #lovers #dead poets society #dead poets headcanons #dps au #dead poets au #neil perry #todd anderson #dps #poetry #charlie dalton #gerard pitts #knox overstreet #richard cameron #anderperry #dead poets in nyc #dps fandom #dps fic #steven meeks #todd and neil #dead poets fanart #fps #dps headcanons #headcanon #romance #gay romance #neil and todd #mr keating

[bproccoli]

of transcendent longing

a dead poets society au

screencaps from here

#this was supposed to be for day 7 but i might be a bit busy by then so i'm uploading early #wishing everyone a happy anderperry week ♡ #dead poets society #dps #dps fandom #anderperry #neil perry #todd anderson #dps fanfiction #dps fic #dps au #anderperry week 2023 #anderperry april 2023 #my fics