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blackcherryvelvet0909 · 8 months

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Feathered Good (Crowley x GN!Reader)

Content Warning: Alcohol (no intoxication), implied depression, implied unhealthy coping mechanisms, mild angst

Note: Reader is an adult NRC staff member

A pleased hum vibrated along your lips and rumbled through your throat as a soft breeze kissed your skin. It smelt of sand and sea, beneath that the delectable scent of various dishes cooking in the restaurant kitchen. You took another sip of your drink, the taste of [favorite fruit] wonderfully flooding your taste buds once again. You savored the flavor as your gaze lingered on the view before you, out towards the vast body of saltwater beyond. It was an excellent idea, coming out here; you’d have to thank Divus for the recommendation later. This was exactly what you needed.

You were tucked into a nice little corner as well. Your table was situated on the lower deck of the restaurant - you thought it too nice an evening to remain inside. The spot wasn’t too far from the kitchens, either, so your food and drink didn’t take long to reach you. There was only one thing missing: company. When you first planned to eat out here, you thought Divus and Trein would come with you. However, as usual, their duties as professors got them into a bit of trouble, and a little injury. Thank goodness it wasn’t too bad of a fall; even so, the men had been in no mood to walk two to three flights of stairs, whether short or long.

So, here you were, split between happiness for the alone time and disappointed in the lack of friendly conversation. Your eyes made another once over of your surroundings, watching the other patrons chat and laugh amongst themselves. Just as you were about to focus back on the waning sunset, your gaze settled on a familiar figure on the floor above. You could scarcely make out his frame, but you knew that mask from anywhere. What was Crowley doing here? Well, that was a dumb question. When was the headmage not making the most of the trip - either on or off the clock, to you and your coworkers’ misfortune.

You couldn’t try and scold him, since it was technically both your off times. There was no reason to go and talk to him. Still…you found yourself rising from your seat. You placed a few madol on the table for your waiter; as you passed by the person at the register, you mentioned you were moving up to the top floor. That way they wouldn’t try and chase you, thinking you were trying to skip paying your bill. When the cashier gave you a nod and a smile, you headed up the long flight of stairs. It was a bit of a struggle to not spill your drink in your ascension, but you managed. Within minutes you reached the top - the view was even better from this height.

Crowley faced away from you, the rim of his glass pressed to his lips as he took a sip of the liquid within. You couldn’t tell if it was alcoholic or not - did he even drink? Guess it was time to find out. “I’m surprised to see you here,” were the words you greeted him with. He turned to you as you rested your glass on the wooden edge of the balcony, wide enough for patrons to settle small plates of food or beverages.

The headmage greeted you with a smile as he straightened his posture. “I make a point to visit this restaurant whenever I get the chance to travel here.” Crowley leaned against the railing, arm rested atop it, clawed hands almost folded in front of him. He looked more casual than usual - relaxed, even. If he were not a man who constantly plucked at your nerves, you’d think him rather dashing, especially since, this evening, he was not clad in that gaudy tropical shirt and khakis. Aside from his cloak, top hat, and cane, he was dressed in his usual ensemble. “Is this your first time here?” he asked.

“The restaurant or this beach in general?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Either.”

“Yes, to both,” you answered. Your body relaxed as you rested your arms against the wooden railing, glass placed next to you. “This is my first vacation in forever, I think. Usually, when I’m not working, I just hang out at home.” You chuckled, “I wouldn’t exactly call this a vacation, anyway; it’s basically a work trip.”

“True,” Crowley agreed, “but I have done my best to work some ample time for you and the other staff to enjoy yourselves as well.” You seriously questioned that, with the way the man would sometimes outright abandon you and the students in favor of some other unknown activity. He picked up his small glass with his fingertips, swirling the brown liquid within as his eyes cast back out at the waves beyond. “This is truly a charming place, despite the hustle and bustle of the tourists.” Crowley lifted the glass to take another sip of his beverage. Feeling a bit mischievous, you decided to ask him another question.

“Is that why Royal Sword and Noble Bell also chose this place to hold their field trips?” You held back a laugh as the headmage nearly choked on the drink. Patiently, you waited for him to regain himself before he answered.

“Well…I suppose that is the reason.” You could almost picture the sweat that surely beaded under his shirt collar. “As I said, this is a wondrous place! What better destination for students to learn and play?”

“It is, indeed, a place to do both - for all ages.” A little smirk played on your lips as you pried more. “It’s just strange we arrived right as the other schools did.” You lifted your drink to your lips as you added, “Coincidence, perhaps?”

The headmage now avoided your gaze - a clear sign he was nervous. “Ah…yes!” Crowley let out a nervous laugh. “Quite so! Us three headmasters must be in sync with one another. As they say, great minds think alike!”

Or a certain one didn’t want to look bad in front of his peers, you thought to yourself. For now, you decided to keep that thought to yourself. After all, there was no proof to that…yet. Divus said he would keep you posted.

“While it does allow our students to mingle with ones from other schools, it is a little chaotic.” You sighed as you placed your drink back down on the space next to you, the taste of [drink of choice] fresh upon your tongue. “I’m surprised there haven't been that many fights. Aside from Spade’s confrontation with those Royal Sword boys, there hasn’t been much of an incident. It’s either we finally have peace in the valley,” another sigh left your lips, “or all will come crashing down in the final days of the trip.”

“Come now,” Crowley chuckled. “Do you have such little faith in our flock?” You sent him a look - without words, he seemed to get the point. He nodded his head, “Yes, our students are a rowdy bunch, to be sure. But perhaps this change of scenery will calm those rebellious natures enough for them to put away their fists.”

“Hopefully,” you wished, with all of your being. You really didn’t get paid enough for the hassle sometimes.

A silence fell between you two for a few moments, nothing but the sound of distant chatter and ocean waves filling your ears. Crowley was the one to break that hush. “[Y/n]?” You perked up at the sound of your name - your first name. It was odd for him not to address you formerly, even when off duty. With your attention back on him, he continued. “What do you think makes a good person?”

“I didn’t know you partook in philosophy,” you said, perplexed by the question. Where did this come from?

“I read up on the subject from time to time,” Crowley mentioned. “Will you humor me?”

Well, you didn’t see why you couldn’t. You did yearn for conversation earlier - now you had it. For a few seconds, you thought his question over, tossed and turned it in your mind. What made a good person? “I guess it depends on the person,” you finally replied. “No one will answer the same; it all weighs on someone’s life experience, I think.”

“That was not what I asked.” Crowley’s expression was different, you realized. He looked sincere - more serious than you’d ever seen him. Even when a certain group of students overblotted in the past year, he hadn’t appeared this way. “I am asking you what makes a good person. In your eyes, what makes a good person?”

You rarely ever experienced this man look directly into your eyes. It was almost like he wanted to peer into your very soul to find the answer. The tone of his voice had shifted as well, you noticed. Has Crowley ever been so earnest? You couldn’t answer that. You said you would humor him, so humor him you would. After a bit more contemplation, you explained to him what, to you, made a good person.

The man listened intently, hung on your every word. He gave a slight nod of his head from time to time, truly taking in your beliefs. You secretly wished he’d take his work as seriously as this opinion of yours. Once you said your piece, he nodded once more, and then another long moment of silence washed over you both. That yellow gaze, obscured behind Crowley’s dark mask, was cast down to the ground. The rest of his expression, along with his body language, was almost…solemn, you thought. Did he find your answer disappointing?

Before you could ask, he raised his head and smiled at you. Though it looked a little strained, he sounded genuine. “Thank you, [Y/n]. I will keep your words in mind for the future.” You watched as he picked up his glass once more, clasped a little tightly in his palm as he held it up to his lips. He then tilted his head back and drank the entirety of his beverage in a few short gulps.

Your eyes must have widened at the display, for he let out a small laugh. “What’s that look for?”

“What was that?” you asked, pointing at his now empty glass.

“My drink?” Crowley shook the glass and the remaining ice clinked around within. “Scotch.”

“You chugged it that quickly?!” The audacity of this man. “Will you even be able to walk back to the hotel?” It wasn’t too far away, the restaurant was located just outside the resort, but…

Crowley let out another laugh, much louder than the last. “Aww, you worry for me? I’m flattered!” Who wouldn’t worry? “But I assure you I’m quite alright. It takes a lot more than that to get me tipsy.”

That was a pretty sizable amount of liquor though. Even Trein, someone who himself partook in scotch from time to time, would get a little blitzed after such a chug. How…how much did it take to get Crowley drunk? How much had he drunk in the past to build that high of a tolerance? Your expression must have revealed your inner thoughts, for Crowley let out another chuckle.

“It has been my friend on many a late night,” he explained. Crowley eyed the glass in his hand almost as though it were an old friend. He appeared…almost sad, for the way he smiled. “This evening is one of few where it is not required.”

Your heart sank. Not required? Sure, you knew Crowley was probably the type to drink a good bit, like Divus, but…that sounded rather ominous. Crowley appeared no different than the depressed protagonist in a movie. What exactly did he have to be depressed about? You thought back to the odd question he asked you minutes before. ‘What makes a good person?’

You thought about all the times Crowley praised himself. How kind he claimed to be with every little thing he did. Always out of arrogance, narcissism, maybe. Now, in light of the question he gave you, how he reacted and mulled over your answer. It now seemed those praises were affirmations to himself…assurances he was doing good. The confidence he showed when he made such claims always fueled the frustration within you. When put in this light though, it sounded like…like a man desperate to be a good person, when he didn’t know how to be.

“Dire-”

Your elbow hit something as you adjusted your position: Your glass. You gasped as it fell over the railing; you were just in time to watch it fall down to the sand three flights of stairs away. Thankfully it didn’t hit anyone on the way. A few guests and servers looked up in confusion - you suddenly felt embarrassed. You nearly jumped out of your skin when Crowley belted out in laughter. “It happens to the best of us!” he reassured. “I can’t count how many times I’ve made such a blunder.”

With a wave of his hand, he called a waiter over. “Would you get my companion here another -” he glanced over at you “ - what were you having?”

“[Drink of choice],” you mumbled, still flustered beyond belief.

“[Drink of choice]!” Crowley repeated to the waiter. He handed them his empty glass as he added, “And another glass of scotch for me, if you wouldn’t mind.” Crowley slipped the waiter a several madol as a tip - or as a way to get your drinks quicker. Either way, the waiter uttered a ‘yes, sir’ before they headed down to the bar. As they went out of sight, Crowley turned back to you. “Where is that smile from before? You’re not the first to knock over a glass, you know.”

“I know…” You shied away as you rubbed your arm. “I just hate someone has to pick it up.”

“I’m sure that isn’t the worst thing they’ve ever done.” Crowley sat himself in a cushioned chair at the corner of the floor. You followed suit and took the one across from him. “If it broke, I will pay for that as well.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t I have to pay for it?”

“Usually,” he rested his chin against the back of his hand, “if I were not treating you.”

Dire Crowley, the stingy headmage of Night Raven College, treating you? You couldn’t hold back the small laugh that escaped your throat. “I didn’t know you had a sense of humor,” you quipped.

He scoffed, taken aback by your statement. “Whatever do you mean? I have a great sense of humor! And that was not a joke: I intend to pay for the drinks you may have in my presence.”

Who clocked him over the head? “You’re serious?” you questioned with a skeptical raise of your brow. “Not going to take this out of my paycheck or something?”

“You think me that cruel?” He seemed to flinch by the look that crossed your face. “No no, I’m not going to take it out of your check - or any thereafter.” Another smile twitched at his lips. “Consider this my thanks for your company - and for answering my question.”

You wanted to ask more - more than him treating you. Yet something told you to hold back for now. Apparently this man was more cryptic, held more mysteries than you ever thought him to. There likely wouldn’t be anything to garner from his question - tonight, at least. Might as well take your good luck and accept the offer, before he changed his mind. You put your skepticism aside and smiled. “Thank you - I really appreciate it.”

Those masked eyes seemed to brighten a little at your gratitude. His posture straightened a bit more, his characteristic confidence back in full force. “Of course! I cherish the opportunity to reward one of my fellow peers for their hard work. After all,” his smile wavered into what looked like a smirk, “I am ever so kind~”

Another reassurance…to you, or to himself? You seriously would question that from now on.

If only you knew just how much Dire Crowley valued your opinion.

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weirdraccoon · 14 days

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Depressed MC

*Implied self-harm but nothing graphic, not even a hint.*

Also, I just went through something, so, I can say that if you feel like self-destruction is an option, I will tell you that no, it is not. But if you still wanna do it, at least text me and we can self-destroy together. That could be a good first step for healing (how can we come back to the surface if we don't reach rock bottom? Follow me for more unhealthy advice lol)

also @theauthor2103 here it is, finally! I'm sorry it took so long, as previously stated, I was at rock bottom, but I'm climbing back, tripping here and there, and going down a few times, but coming back slowly and surely!

Ominis sensed her running around. It was common on her, true, but after all that happened with the repository and the goblins, Ominis thought she’d want to take it easier this year.

And, there was something just out of character with the way she kept running from one place to another. Talking to more people than she used to, meeting with strangers at Hogsmeade to socialize. Keeping herself as busy as possible, be it with homework, favors, or her new so-called friends.

“She’s just expanding her social circle, Ominis,” Sebastian would say. “She looks fine.”

However, Ominis sensed it.

Something was not right.

So, he kept an eye on her. Well, his wand to be more precise. Which was more difficult because she tended to disappear a lot. And no matter who he asked, they all said she looked just fine.

“She’s even more friendly this year,” Poppy said. “Even helped me with some puffskein offspring last week. And you know how she hated their fur on her robes.”

Ominis simply hummed and continued his watch. If she realized he was stalking her, she didn’t say anything.

Not even a joke.

Yes, Ominis was worried.

And then, one day, she just stopped.

Ominis waited for her to arrive at breakfast.

He waited for her to run around as usual.

He waited for her to show up to class.

“Mr. Gaunt, Mr. Sallow, did Mrs. Seaburgh mention going out? Or feeling sick?”

“No, professor,” Sebastian frowned. “We can go check on the infirmary if you want?”

“No, no, that’s all right,” Fig shook his head. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

Ominis frowned.

He might not be able to see, but he could hear. Fig was worried.

That got him more worried.

“Let’s look for her,” he whispered to Sebastian.

“But Fig said-

“Come on, Sebastian,” Ominis muttered, rolling his eyes. “I know you two had a fight but aren’t you a little bit worried? Let’s just look for her and make sure she’s all right.”

Sebastian sighed.

“All right,” he drawled. “But I bet she’s sleeping off whatever she had yesterday. Did you notice how she left with those seventh years? I didn’t know she cared so little about us.”

About me.

Ominis remained silent. He’d known Sebastian for a long time, and he knew his best friend could be dense most of the time.

They didn’t find her in the infirmary, the library, or the gardens.

“She’s in the dormitory,” Natsai told them. “She wasn’t feeling too well this morning, but she made me promise not to tell the professors. Light food poisoning according to her,” she shrugged.

“Told you,” Sebastian whispered. “Food poisoning, more like a nasty hangover or even more mallow sweet than her usual.”

Ominis pursed his lips.

Em-Sea was absent for another day, and when she came back, an odd odor was following her. Not like mallow sweet or butter or even whisky, something… unpleasant.

“Ugh, do you think she’s taken a shower at all?” One of the seventh-years near them grimaced. “Can’t believe I humped that.”

“What did you expect from a mud-blood,” another one said. “I told you it was a bad idea.”

“Hey, it was great at the moment,” the first one shrugged. “Somewhat desperate and whiny for my taste but you know how girls are.”

Sebastian was already gripping his wand so tight, Ominis feared he would break it under his own hand, stopping him from doing something idiotic in the middle of the Great Hall.

“Those- That- What was she thinking!”

“Sebastian,” Ominis tried.

“No!” He yanked his hand from Ominis’ and stormed off, muttering about her not caring and not loving him or herself and how he’d blow their bodies to pieces.

Ominis sighed.

When he tried to look for her again, she was already gone.

And she stayed gone for another two days.

Until Fig asked him to accompany him to the infirmary. It was a scary day, for him, when Fig almost begged him to follow him and help her. He thought Em-Sea was dying.

He wasn’t too far off.

Em-Sea was lying on a hospital bed. She was awake. But she was silent.

“Here Em-Sea,” Fig said, pushing Ominis to sit on the bed at her feet. “If you won’t believe me, then listen to Mr. Gaunt. We all know he doesn’t lie and he never sugarcoats things. If he tells you you are loved then will you believe it?”

Ominis blinked, feeling flabbergasted and a bit out of his depth.

What exactly happened?

“Em-Sea? Are you all right?” He asked, squeezing her leg and tightening his grip when she tried to pull away.

“If yo don’t tell him, I will,” Fig threatened. “This is no joke,” he- he cried. “I don’t know what push you to it but your friends will find out sooner or later.”

Ominis’ insides froze.

“What did you do, Em-Sea?”

He knew.

He knew she had been acting out of character. He knew she had been on a journey of self-destruction. He knew she had been keeping busy for a reason.

He had felt the need too.

Before.

But she was better. She was sun and light and love. Everything he was not.

“Em-Sea,” he teared up. “You are one of my best friends. You- you are the reason I didn’t do anything stupid. Oh, lords-

He couldn’t continue, he gripped her leg and cried. Silently.

When he heard her sniffles, he threw himself into her arms. Fig followed. And as awkward as it was, Ominis stayed there, clutching the girl into his chest while Fig hugged them both.

“I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to get close,” Ominis babbled. “I knew you were hurting but I didn’t know it was this bad.”

Fig sighed, a few tears running down his face.

“At least yo noticed,” he murmured. “I thought- well, it doesn’t matter. You’ll be fine, Em-Sea. I’m here for you.”

“Me too,” Ominis reassured. “And Poppy and Garreth and Sebastian,” Em-Sea tensed. “No, listen, Em-Sea, I know you had your issues but even if never date him again he’s your friend. We all love you more than you’ll ever know and we will be here for you, wether you like it or not.”

Em-Sea teared up again. She hid her face in Ominis’ shoulder.

She didn’t say anything.

Ominis understood.

You’ll be fine. We got you.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #ominis gaunt #depressing shit #implied depression

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cluelesspigeons · 1 year

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This is written for the song “This December” by Ricky Montgomery from @drarrymicrofic

Word count: 94

Drarry microfic: the smallest gesture

Cw: implied depression

“Will you come eat something with us?”

Draco was standing in the doorway of their bedroom, the light from the corridor spilling in the room, covering Draco into a golden hue. From where Harry was sitting on the bed, wrapped in the darkness, it looked as if Draco was glowing. He looked ethereal.

Slowly, Harry stood, his knees popping painfully from sitting down for so long. He hadn’t shaved in days and his hair looked probably even worse than it normally did. Yet, he still walked towards Draco, into his waiting arms.

“Thank you.”

Prompt from December 13th

<< previous microfic

next microfic >>

#drarry #drarrymicrofic #drarry microfic #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #draco malfoy #harry potter #draco x harry #harry x draco #my writing #cp writes #cluelesspigeons #december 2022 #implied depression #little gestures #can mean a lot

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blue-nardo · 1 year

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"Shutting Down."

OOC: Soooo in case you guys weren't aware, THIS IS A STORYLINE BASED GROUP! Think fan fiction, but with characters you can interact with! This is the first plotline I wanted to run, and you guys actually helped speed it up a bit! So thank you!

No warnings apply, other than implications of depression, but nothing explicitly stated!

***

"Leo…"

Raph is worried, Leo knows that. He wouldn't be here if he wasn't, and he wouldn't be bothering if he didn't care. Leo knows Raph just wants to help, but that he doesn't know how.

And Leo doesn't know how either.

Raph let's out a sigh, and Leo keeps his head down. Mikey and Donnie are off doing their own thing, something Leo is grateful for since he can barely handle Raph's attention right now. As much as he hated being sat down like this, his brother knew better than to corner him with an ambush, and for that he was grateful.

"Look, if you don't wanna talk to me right now, that's okay. I don't want you to feel like you're not safe talking to me, but I get it. It's hard for you to let us in, so you push out yourself so we don't even try. Or… Something like that…"

Leo can't even smile at that. He's shutting down again… He hasn't done that since he was a kid…

"What I'm trying to say," Raph continues, "is that… you don't have to say anything to reach out. Remember when we taught Donnie sign language because he'd get too overwhelmed to speak? There's other ways to ask for help."

Leo doesn't know when he's supposed to ask for help, that's the issue. Raph is always stressed because of one thing or another, so Leo's always made it a priority to not have to rely on him for everything. He wants to tell Raph that he sees what he goes through worrying about all of them, that he saw Raph struggling when they were kids and decided he didn't want to be the one to make him break.

But… Words are hard… And he can't speak.

"... I love you."

He lifts his head, staring at Raph who seems so small for someone so big. Both of them are tearing up, but Raph looks closer to crying than he does.

"... I love you too," he whispers back. They don't use that word a lot. It's unspoken in everything they do, so it's not always needed. Except for the times when it is, like now. "I love you a lot, Raph…"

Raph smiles at that, and it's the dismissal that Leo's been waiting for. He stands up from the couch, and goes to leave, but he stops in the doorway, looking back. Raph has already leaned forward with his head in his hands, and Leo's heart twinges with pain at knowing he's the cause of it.

Before he'd make a joke, about how Raph was being a big worrywart for nothing. Before, he would make fun of him for having the whole Grand Canyon in his forehead, but now…

'You didn't yell because you were mad. You yelled because you were scared.'

He can't make fun of Raph when he's scared.

Silent like the ninja he is, Leo comes back into the living room, and hugs Raph from behind. He feels his big brother jump at the action, before turning around and pulling him into his chest, and they both sit there for awhile.

Leo is pretty sure this is gonna come up again, because it always does… But at least this time they got a hug out of it.

#rottmnt leo #ask leo #leo rottmnt #rise leo #ask rottmnt #ttatc #rottmnt #raph rottmnt #rottmnt raph #rise raph #plot #implied depression

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danae-darthnoire · 2 years

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Marichat May 2022 - Day 16 - Seasons @marichatmay

Chat Noir notices Marinette is withdrawn and quiet and even though he doesn't know the reason why she's so down, all he wants is to make her feel better.

Marinette is struggling with the fact she lost all the miraculous. She wants to be alone, to wallow in her own misery, but Chat Noir won't leave her be and deep down she's thankful for him.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanworks #marichat #marichat may #marichat may 2022 #implied depression #identity reveal

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nightmarehunters · 1 year

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#Nightmare Hunters #Madison Nightmare Hunters #Karolyn Nightmare Hunters #implied depression #depression tw

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death-cannot-kill-you · 2 years

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I think I have run out of life to live

Everything that happens

Has already happened

All my experiences are recycled

. . .

I am 18

. . .

But when I feel desolate and hopeless

Grey even in the summer months

I am still 14

. . .

When I cannot get out of bed

Even though there is so much to do

I am 15

. . .

I am 10 when the fear rises

And 13 when it tries to claw itself out of my chest

. . .

Stress from school work is 16

Stress about friends is 12

. . .

When I smile so hard it aches

It is every time I have ever been happy.

. . .

When I am in love I am 12-14-16 again

. . .

Heartbreak

Will always lead to 6 days before my 16th birthday.

. . .

I am the same over and over and over again

. . .

Sometimes that scares me

Is this a cycle? Is there no way for me to get out

(I feared that when I was 17 too)

. . .

Sometimes it is comforting

If this is all there is then there is only so low it can get

And 14 was bad but I survived I can do it again

. . .

Even writing this poem I am

8 and writing a story I will only get 2 chapters into

13 and writing poetry because I can’t ask for help

16 and looking for validation any way I can get it.

. . .

I am just a composite of my past selves.

They were different people than I am now

But still they find their ways into my life

. . .

I am nothing new. But neither is anyone else

#poetry #implied depression #this is certainly a poem

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stil-lindigo · 9 months

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scorched earth.

a comic about a princess who died in a fire.

(this is a sequel to bite of winter, a comic about Snow and what became of her after her death.)

creative notes:

all my other comics

store

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rockymintscollective · 2 months

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Small Neil Perry Rant from Dead Poets Society (SPOILERS AHEAD)

Okay before I continue this I must reiterate the fact that this has spoilers and will also involve heavy subjects such as suicide, death, and grief of said death. This also involves parental issues and possible alluded-to abuse. This will be a heavy rant.

Continue reading if you're fine with said subjects.

Okay I have to say I don't understand what one of my other friends (I'll call them Friend C, Friend A being the one who said positive things, but I'll get to that) said about not getting/understanding what the end of the movie was like.

I understand that it would come as a shock for most, but... The signs were right there for Neil Perry to have at least some implied depression or something to make him so affected.

Like you see it in the first scene. Or well not the first scene but one of the first interactions that Neil has with his dad.

Most kids call their parents by "Dad" or "mom" or even "Pa" and "Ma", but you see Neil calling him "Father." Not even something less formal, he calls him father. All the time. Even whenever you see him talk to Todd later on when he finds interest in theater, you hear him call his dad by father.

Also adding onto this---You see most of the other characters, such as Meeks or as Knox say "dad" or "mom" if I recall correctly. It's been a few hours since I've seen the movie but you get what I mean.

Also, adding onto the fact that Neil outright lies to Mr. Keating about his talk with his dad? Like you know that there must've been something that made him that afraid to talk to his dad about wanting to become an actor.

Not only that but you see it. Especially so whenever his dad comes and picks him up after the show, takes him home, and tells him he's going to be sent off to Military school. That shit's NOT easy, and that's coming from someone who's had military family members confess how rough it is.

Adding onto this, you HAVE to understand the fact that you have to be in that kid's shoes and imagine what it must feel like.

You're about to lose all your friends. About to lose the one thing that made you happy. About to lose the one teacher you liked, about to basically lose everything. He's also aware of the fact that when he graduates, he's immediately being shipped off to medical school.

Which, by the way, I think everyone forgets that fact. His father was that engrossed with his own life that he was going to just send his son off to medical school as soon as he finished Welton. Like he genuinely had no say about his future or his life. I'm pretty sure if his father could, he would've found him a woman to marry. /lh

Anyway. You kinda also feel like there's no other hope left, right? Basically left alone and even if you try to cut contact, you're probably still going to have constant reminders of your father and he'll probably hunt you down, either way.

So of course your last option would probably be, as morbid as it is, to. You know. Stop the clock early.

Also, can I just say, the way everyone coped with everything is so understandable? Like oh my god.

Sure you don't see much of how they react or how they feel, mostly just seeing Todd and Charlie's reactions, but my god that's enough to see to know.

Todd's utterly broken self and puking into the snow in response to everything, while all the others have to try and distract him from blaming Neil's dad. (Which honestly, if I was one of them, I too would accuse Neil's dad to be honest)

Not only that but Charlie telling them all to back off and to stop to let Todd grieve in his own way?? My god. That shit fucking felt like a bag of bricks hitting my chest my GOD.

Also I'm bringing up my mutual Wildernezz's rant in here about the scene with the punching because oh my god. Yeah. I see why it's so underrated but I agree with every single one of those points he made. Like oh my god

Also, personal opinion: The ending where Keating goes to leave and Todd stands up, with an outburst, going "They made us sign it I'm so sorry-" was so amazingly shot. Especially the scene where they also all stand on their desks. Well not all of them but you get what I mean

Like they all clearly care so very deeply for Mr. Keating and care about how he teaches. They loved him as a teacher and you can tell with how they act.

Like.... You can just tell they adored it with his class. Like

My mind's dying (/dram) right now but I still so very much am in love with this movie and I heard they had a book they made based on this said movie and I'm so interested in reading it so I'll get back to you on that

#tw suicide #tw death #tw implied abuse #character analysis #rant #rambles #dead poets society #dead poets fandom #implied depression #mentions of puking #neil perry #todd anderson #steven meeks #knox overstreet #john keating #charlie dalton

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irondadmadlads · 2 years

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Irondad Prompt 94:

Peter’s having a bad mental health day.

When Peter arrives at the lab, Tony knows something is wrong. However, Peter doesn’t know how to tell his hero he’s struggling with his mental health. He doesn’t know if he can.

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miniminiswrites · 11 months

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I will always want you... maybe

It stared at me through the store window. It was beautiful, gorgeous swirls of colorful fabric sewed together to end up as a one-of-a-kind dress (and I know that for sure because the lovely old man in the store told me so. He said it was a dress his wife made and never wore, which is how it ended up in this corner of the charity shop).

I looked down at myself... I would never fit inside this beauty as I was right now. All the wrong curves and areas of fat. Yet, after staring at the dress through the window for two weeks, I was determined. I will fit inside you one day, I promise.

With that thought spurring me on, I marched into the shop. The old man smiled at me, and finally after so long, I told him I'm buying the dress.

_____

Time went on; that day, I hung up the dress in front of my mirror at home, and used up my best research skills to find the best diet to get my body to the shape I wanted it to be. To the shape of the dress.

I started out by not buying fast food anymore. The money I usually alotted to that went into my savings, then left whenever I bought fancy diet food at the supermarket. It went well for the first couple of weeks... until it didn't. One night, I found myself ordering a box of chicken nuggets seemingly without realizing. I only noticed when I saw the empty box sitting in my trash the next day.

To compensate, I didn't have lunch for a couple days... I collapsed at work once, but it was no big deal. Every night before falling into bed, I caressed the dress. This is all worth it, I thought. I must wear you.

Months passed that way. I started losing some weight, but I still had lapses when I accidentally ate too much, or impulsively bought candy in the middle of the night, and I gained some weight again.

My friends grew annoyed of me the third time I refused going out with them. We were high school friends, and we don't see each other very often. I understood why they were pissed at me, but I had to keep going towards my goal. It was all worth it for the dress. (Even if I cried myself to sleep a few times after scrolling their happy photos on instagram. When did I last feel happy?)

On the other hand, my boss was very satisfied with me. I often ignored my lunch breaks (why have a lunch break if you're not having lunch?) and I also worked overtime a lot (why go home for dinner if you're not having dinner?) and I became the most hardworking employee in my department. My boss praised me as he sent me extra work to do. I was the reason he was going for a long vacation this year, he told me. I wasn't going on one. No need for a vacation if you're not eating and having fun.

Fun... it's been a long time since I felt that. It must've been before I bought the dress. But it's okay. All worth it. It has to be. ...Right? Right. It must be.

I fell ill the next week. I had a fever and I was stuck in bed taking care of myself. Just me and my dress in my bedroom. I spent the whole time I was lucid just staring at it.

It really was so beautiful. The colors were so vibrant, and the sewing job was excellent. Not a ruffle was out of place. It looked... it looked manufactured. Would I look manufactured in it?

I passed out from the fever before finding an answer.

_____

Eventually, my fever broke and I went back to my life, but it was like everything was moved just a little to the left. All of a sudden, I was zoning out more than usual at work, unable to do anything. At home, I stayed in bed for hours. I stopped reading my books and watching my tv shows. I still didn't eat, still lost weight, but somehow it didn't feel worth it anymore.

The dress... it didn't look beautiful anymore.

#look at me being a few hours late already...#im not sure if this is complete or if im going to add anything later #but this is it for now #mentions of food #implied depression #june writing challenge #day 1 #(it feels sooo weird to write so much all of a sudden.... pls dont perceive... im sure it has mistakes ;-;)

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