i am once again in that stage during the academic year where i have to romanticise every work-related tear and late night cry with classical music, gallons of coffee and the thought that mr. keating would be proud.
here is a quiz (and coincidentally my 400th post) for all you procrastinators to motivate you all through this season of spook.
NO BECAUSE MY ENGLISH TEACHER ASKED WHAT CARPE DIEM MEANS!!! MY ENGLISH TEACHER ASKED WHAT CARPE DIEM MEANS!!! SHE JUST PULLED A MR. KEATING AT US-
I know we all love to write Jeffery as the guy who was perfect at everything and always had a bunch of friends and that made Todd feel left out, but have we ever considered that before Todd transferred to Welton neither of them had any friends?
Like, Jeffery would have been swamped being the golden boy and constantly trying to be perfect for his parents and, unlike Neil, I don’t think he would have bothered to make friends because he didn’t really have any passions. We all know Todd is a social wreck, so it’s obvious he wasn’t all too popular when he was younger, but the idea that Jeffery was in the same boat is really realistic to me for some reason?
Imagine you’re eighteen, you’re graduating at the top of your class and going to Harvard next year. The only friend you’ve ever had has been your little brother, who’s only friend he’s ever had was you. He’s transferring to the school you just graduated from, you warn him it’s gonna be hard, you worry he’s gonna be a bit of an outcast because you’re related, yada yada.
And then he makes more friends than you could have ever imagined having. Actively interrupts your weekly phone calls with ‘Oh, sorry, [one of his friends] is calling me I think I gotta go’. Talks more about them than he has about anything in his entire life.
He has friends, you don’t.
It’s gonna piss you off. Severely.
aye you think if keating and his wife ever had a kid that they’d somehow try to incorporate neil into their name?
like do you think they’d make it a middle name or something and when the rest of the poets find out its like this sad little bittersweet moment of silence?
it is almost midnight and my fall break ends tomorrow
yet here we are
new fic babes! ✨
dont imagine todd listing to ‘the night we met’ after finding out about neil…
don't think about him crying and wishing things were the way they used to be…
don’t think about how hard the line “i dont know what i’m supposed to do, haunted by the ghost of you” hits him…
where are MY best friends to read poetry in a cave with?
don’t imagine todd and neil playing the marble game.
don’t imagine meeks and pitts playing the marble game.
don’t imagine charlie and cameron playing the marble game.
LOOK AT WHAT I FOUND
THE DELETED SCENE OF THE MEETING AFTER NEILS PLAY. THE ONE WITH KEATING AND TODDS POEM!!!!!
-dead poets in nyc edition-
“can i get in the video tape, can i get in the video tape, MY FRIENDS? NO, THE ANSWER IS NO” “of course not”
✨post audition trauma✨
“i feel like a baked potato”
“i'm nervous *stutters”
“acting, what a tacky business” 2x
“josh we heard a lot of screaming in there, what was that about?”
“wouldn't you like to know”
what fun boys they are
one word: booked
“i'm still a little shOoK up”
✦─day six: sick/hurt-comfort
✦─genre: angst (pretty heavy, ngl), hurt-comfort is it really tho??, on and off relationship, poetry/verse, just overall very sad sjfhdjghdf
content warnings (tis how yknow its gonna get bad): su*cidal/s*lf h*rm thoughts; brief mentions of guts, organs, and such in a mildly grotesque way [pls do tell me if i need to mention something else in here!]
✦─fandom: dead poets society
✦─pairing: anderperry (todd anderson x neil perry)
✦─summary: neil hasn’t been in the mental space for years now. the last thing he wants is to hurt the only good thing that has ever happened to him. he often runs away from him, trying to disappear from his life. but he always comes back, and todd’s always waiting for him by the door.
✦─inspired by the song neptune by sleeping at last
✦─banner made by @regina-dei-fiori (aka, moi), beta reading done by the beautiful @iemondropsss <33
✦─ao3 link to be added soon
[ day one | day two | day three | day four | day five | day six | day seven ]
a/n: is this prompt a day earlier? yes indeed. do i still have to complete a bunch of previous prompts? absolutely. but as one very famous poet once said, ✨let’s forget how any of this works✨ anyways, hello besties, today i have chosen violence sdkfhdjfgfd
quick side note, you may or may not have seen that i said i wouldnt be posting the anderperry week on schedule anymore (i only lasted one day smh) due to the existence of e x a m s. thankfully, i already finished all of them, so i’ll get into writing asap.
so, my favourite thing (for both writing and reading purposes) is angst/hurt comfort, so i had a blast with this one, lemme tell you. writing sad shit helps me get bad feelings out ig, and it also helps me remember that im alive lmao
my other prompts are going to be pretty fluffy, i was just not in the mood to write something cute. i dont want peace, i want problems, always >:))
moral of the story, dont let me write angst (too late tho). enjoy yall lol <33
I'm only honest when it rains If I time it right, the thunder breaks When I open my mouth I wanna tell you, but I don't know how
I'm only honest when it rains An open book with a torn out page And my ink's run out I wanna love you, but I don't know how
-Neptune, by Sleeping At Last
For as much as I’ve tried to escape, to keep distance, it is, in a way, incredible how I always come back to the same place. My feet truly are more independent than I initially thought.
I write about my regrets everyday, did you know? I count them down, with paper and pen. I write down: I regret ever wanting to live different lives, with costumes and scripts. I write down: I regret ever loving the people I wasn’t supposed to love. I write down: I regret not having controlled my black holes in time, the ones that suck the life out of me without mercy. I write down: I regret forgetting who I really was.
I write my regrets down everyday. And even though it’s always on the tip of my tongue, your name I have never written. Todd Anderson. It jumps around, inside the walls of my mind, like a bird trying to escape its cage. It wants to be free, I know. It wants to travel cities and seas, it wants to see the cliffs and the bees. It wants to rip the most violent scream out of me. It wants me to jump in front of traffic and wait for the sweet embrace of the afterlife. Todd Anderson. My light in my darkest nights, the air I breathe when there’s no oxygen around me. O me, o life.
But would you believe me if I told you that you’re not one of them? I’ve made so many mistakes in my life, so many impulsive decisions. But you're the thing I'm most sure of. You’re the only good thing I’ve ever had between my arms, as I felt our inevitable end surrounding us. Our terrible fall. So terrible, that we haven’t stopped falling since.
I regret so many things in life, but not you, my love.
Who would regret meeting the personification of the moon herself? Quiet and serene, wild and captivating. Caring and loving, with a smile that carries the light of moonshine; that has the power to move oceans.
Who would regret endless nights in which we thought our crazy fantasies could become reality? Jumping and dancing and singing at the top of our lungs. Thinking we were the only ones, thinking we were on top of the world. The pills that I keep in my bathroom drawer will never compare to what you make me feel, to what you make me see.
Who would regret waiting years to see the cocoon finally crack, only to see the most beautiful wings emerge? Butterflies aren’t able to see the patterns of their own wings; they’ll never know the beauty they hold. You’ll never fully understand how much you make me want to rip my skin off, how much you make me want to run away to a lost country and never look back. When you laugh, when you talk, when you speak, when you cry. When you look at me like I’m the most precious person in the room, and when you look at me like I’m the scum of the earth.
You're not a regret of mine, honey. But am I not one of yours? Don't you regret ever believing that I carried the magic that I've always faked? Can’t you see that you sold away your sanity the day you laid eyes on me?
I don't deserve the things you think I do. Congratulations, you have fallen into the trap! The one everyone falls inside of when they meet the mighty Neil Perry. The one everyone wants to pay attention to. The one everyone trusts to be the truth. The one you can now see through, my love. I don't deserve any of the things that you do. It's a facade, an act. Can't you see? Can't you just run away from me, instead of making us reach our painful end?
I live with maggots inside of me. Eating me alive, eating away my brain, my liver, my lungs, my heart. Eating away my feelings, my emotions. Contaminating the memories. Our memories, my darling. I’m nothing more than a lifeless shell. I’m a dead man walking. We both know that death is the only thing men can never escape, my darling. Who can love a man that can no longer love? My departure will be as insignificant as my arrival. You should start planning the way you’re going to keep on living without me, love.
I’ve noticed the way you look when I completely lose sense of myself. I’ve noticed the terror in your eyes, I’ve noticed the way your feet make you go three steps back, I’ve noticed your hesitant arms as you ponder if it’s a good idea to give me your warmth or not. I’ve noticed, don’t you try to bullshit me. I know I scare you, Todd. I know how much you wish I’d just never exist. Or at least not in your sight.
When I erase myself from the phase of earth for a moment, there’s not a step I take without you in my thoughts. There’s not a second I don’t consider running up the stairs of that building we used to go to, and just go ahead and fly with the stars that show up at midnight. At least I would die out in a place where we’ve kissed a thousand times, at least I would vanish on the rooftop we claimed as ours.
Why do you keep following me, in my days and in my dreams? Why do you keep embracing my dampened body when we lock eyes in the doorstep of the apartment that was supposed to be home? Don’t you see the way I only search for your touch and forgiveness when the waves are already drowning us? Don’t you see the way I start being honest only when the rain starts flooding the city that was once ours? Don’t you see that I’m making you sick? Don’t you see the way my eyes lose their spark more and more each passing moment? Don’t you feel sorry for yourself, for dealing with this corpse before you? The one you once wanted to spend your whole life with, the one you once called your lover.
Who am I to ask you to stay? And who are you to stay even when I don’t ask you to?
And yet… And yet, my body is not strong enough to move away from your touch. And yet, my lips aren’t strong enough to stop the tenderness in which you kiss my tears away. And yet, my mouth’s not strong enough to tell you to escape from this disgrace of a man I have become. And yet, my mind is too stubborn to want any of this to go. To let this go. To let you go.
I know, I am aware. I’m probably the most aware of both of us: I’m selfish.
Let me spill my guts on this wooden floor. Let me rip my ribcage open, and let my heart be exposed. Let the amount of tears I’ve dropped make me weak. Let me wail and cry and scream. And then hold me, my love. Even if I’m up in flames, even if my skin stings, even if the cloth from my clothes becomes velvet. Your touch makes me believe that not everything that is warm burns. Your arms make me believe in a fortress that mad hands who tear my skull in half cannot enter. Your pulse reminds me that my whole world’s beating still. Your lips melt like sweet chocolate between mine. You are the reason I believe living is a blessing.
Because I am selfish, honey. I know. I am aware.
Todd Anderson. My moon on an empty sky. The butterflies that fly in spring. The brown leaves that fall in autumn. The sunsets that you can only enjoy on top of mountains. The one that has loved me in a way no one else ever could. The only thing worth living for.
Would you let go of me if I asked you to?
tag list: @cupiiid @aedan-mills @pelicanchaos @tuskofthyme
Modern dead poets society except they have a movie night every Saturday￼
HELLO IM SCREAMING WHY AM I SEEING THIS JUST NOW???¿?
pittsie gets competitive when it comes to playing ‘just dance’ every game night
the results are in and here's what we've got!
oc name: alexandria "alex" newman
her "in" with the poets (who introduces her to everyone): charlie dalton
love interest: knox! bit of a surprise but i'm happy nonetheless
archetype: the jester (i think y'all knew this was coming)
how she got into welton: my oc's father is a lawyer who threatens to sue welton for not allowing her in (the all girls schools she went to didn't challenge her enough and welton is, after all, the best preparatory school in the country).
a few extra things: anderperry WILL BE A THING, i'm going to give chet more "screentime" because he's amazing, lots of chris and ginny content ofc, and perhaps the most important: neil doesn't die
i am so so so so so SO excited to start drafting this fic, it has literally been sitting in my mind for months and now that i have the details it's go time.
reply to this post if you want to be added onto a taglist for the fic!
dead poets society and lyrics