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An extended version of one of the endings. Spoilers for end game.
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If I don't do this now, my life will never belong to me by RemyJustice97
Fandoms: Dead Poets Society (1989)
11 Sep 2023
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His fellow actors celebrated, applauding themselves and each other (applauding him). Neil whooped in jubilation, sat with them to prolong the inevitable, listened with a serene kind of peace while they extolled each other's performances. When the director came back and told him his father had requested him, he sat with himself for a moment, thinking this might be the last moment of true comfort he had for the rest of his life.
Then he stood, picked keenly through the throng of actors, threw on his overcoat, and stepped decisively out the back exit.
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They were shitfaced. Smashed. Sloshed. Schnockered. Spectacularly so.They were kissing.
"Fuck, you're hot," House breathed, burying his face in the crook of Wilson's neck to avoid any further embarrassing confessions.
"It's narcissistic to compliment yourself out loud," Wilson bit out, the apparent boozing they'd previously partaken in husking his voice to an entirely (unfairly) erotic degree. Or maybe that was just the sound of House's ego being stroked (despite how he yearned for Wilson to stroke something else for a change).
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House and Wilson get drunk.
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wash knows he needs the reds and blues more than they need him. if they hadn’t chosen to cover for him, he’d be back in prison but even worse off. so although his entire body is alight with something ferocious and ugly, he can’t start punching walls or breaking cabinet doors or screaming until his throat caves in. he can’t let anybody here know how broken he truly is.
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“yeah, dude. i’ve rubbed out five so far.”
“five?”Bookmarked by RemyJustice97
25 Mar 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
The HOTT trans!Tucker one (in case anyone was wondering, yes, being on T really is like this)
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The Precursors may have given him his powers, but they sure as hell weren't going to teach him how to use them.
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Her pulse jumped. “For the record…” she dropped her voice, leaning in slightly, “I also have some of those.”
His smile twisted devilish. One step closer. “Is that so?” He leaned back on her desk, eyes burning into hers. “Black silk or something else?”
She kept the game going, lips curled. “Oh no, just black silk in there. The dildo drawer is actually in my bedside table.”
He choked, eyes going wide. “You did not just say that.” He started coughing from surprise and laughter. “Dildo drawer? Really?”
She grinned like a cat. “What? God forbid a girl has a few toys for lonely nights.” -
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Summary
Pansy is sick of being ignored. To gain Hermione's attention, she crawls under the table to eat her out.
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Bookmarked by RemyJustice97
30 Nov 2025

