clapton and riley gifs!! pt 1
me and @missoverstreet are lit platonic clapton and riley
obsoTUTley that is ussss
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Show & Tell
Peter Solarz
Xuebing Du

titsay

ellievsbear
Cosimo Galluzzi
Sweet Seals For You, Always

Product Placement

oozey mess
sheepfilms
dirt enthusiast

⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ
YOU ARE THE REASON
d e v o n

Andulka
Sade Olutola
Misplaced Lens Cap
Not today Justin
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@missoverstreet
clapton and riley gifs!! pt 1
me and @missoverstreet are lit platonic clapton and riley
obsoTUTley that is ussss

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I know for a FACT that Mr. Keating not once blamed Cameron for squealing/getting him fired. He would not approve of how some of yâall treat him. Cameron was a victim of the system just the same as the other boys. He was scared, he was a TEENAGER.
Watching people mischaracterize Knox Overstreet on this app pains me đ
due to recent posts in the tag
*clears throat*
Neil ; Billy Joel, the Smiths
Todd ; Leonard Cohen, Florence and the Machine
Charlie ; David Bowie, Queen
Knox ; the Beatles, Elvis
Pitts ; ABBA (and it's non negotiable)
Meeks ; Janis Joplin, Stevie Nicks
Cameron ; Simon & Garfunkel
KNOX BEATLEMANIA YESSSS
everybody is so hype for dps on netflix cause they arenât on my level. i have that movie downloaded- i can watch it whenever i want. yeah, thatâs right, im infinitely better than you. iâm going to spend this evening curled up in bed watching my favorite movie while youâre counting down the days.

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my headcanons for Knox Overstreet!!
heâs bisexual but absolutely clueless about it. heâs only ever really crushed on girls and never even considered the possibility of him liking a boy. heâs not homophobic or anything, it just genuinely never crossed his mind
I imagine eventually he might have a crush on a guy and be like âwait a minute- oh.â and then just move on with his life as if nothing happened
he probably never officially comes out to the dead poets either. at some point he just starts yapping about a boy heâs crushing on without any further context (and nobody is very surprised)
his love language is gift giving, particularly gifts he made himself (e.g. poems!!)
on that note, he loves crafting. he likes to tear out empty pages out of his notebooks (or pages he doesnât need anymore) and make little origami butterflies or hearts or foxes out of them
(he usually slips these into his friendsâ bags or leave them in their dorm rooms. Todd was so confused the first time he found a little paper fox on his bed until the others told him âoh, thatâs just Knoxâ)
he also likes to draw, but he doesnât tell anyone because 1. heâs convinced his drawings suck and 2. heâs just generally embarrassed about it for some reason
siblings or dating?
istg i feel like crying whenever i see richard cameron because omg he's so misunderstood
why they are so adorable đĽšâ¤ď¸âđŠš
(sorry for images quality, I save photos from Pinterest)
Hey isnât it cool how the oldest fic on ao3 is a Dead Poets Society one?

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Watching people call themselves nuwanda and continue to say that shit while itâs been known it has racist undertones is crazy.
Like coming from an indigenous woman, get a grip and SHUT UP PLEASEđ
Literally, it's not that hard not to use that nameđđ just call him Charlie
DEAR DPS FANS ON PINTEREST
STOP CALLING CHARLIE FUCKING NUWANDA
HE HAS A NAME. CHARLIE DALTON
sincerely, an angry duck
Everytime I listen to the cranberries I think of Anderperry đ
ROBERT SEAN LEONARD as DANNY
IN THE GLOAMING (1997) dir. Christopher Reeve
@ang3l1cx

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thinking about richard cameron and literally near tears.
the other poets donât (at least i chose to believe for my own mental health) intentionally leave him out. i just think when your in a big group like that itâs easy to get left out.
what that thing? âthereâs always a duo within a trioâ?
i donât think they leave him out or push him aside on purpose. i just think including cameron, whoâs a bit odd, a bit of a kiss ass, isnât on the top of their priority list.
And to add on to thatâ i donât think cameron puts himself on the outskirts bc be thinks himself better. i think if you really watch the movie critically you see him wanting to be included at every turn.
he goofs off with the boys at dinner, he goes to the meetings even though he thinks them dangerous, he helps them study (idk about you but i have NEVER helped someone i didnât like study..)
the poets donât intentionally leave him out but they donât make concentrated effort to bring him in. itâs no wonder when the group heâs never felt fully a part of disintegrates, heâs the first person to offer a tell all.
he wasnât a terrible person plotting against them from the beginning. he was a 17 year old kid looking for approval from his peers.
he wanted what we all want, community, and i think itâs exponentially tragic that he never got it.
dead poets society but they're all girls
I walked across the campus, not taking in my surroundings, lost in a haze of worryâthatâs the moment I ran into Cornelia Perry. I didnât know who she was in that moment, but I would soon. She wore a pastel blue dress and a simple white cardigan. Her long brown hair was perfectly curled, and she was beautiful, but that wasnât quite the point. There was a confidence in the casual smile on her face, in the carefree way she had been leaning on a column, and the way she quickly shook my hand: âSo I hear weâre going to be roommates. Cornelia Perry.âÂ
I was processing all this, much too slow, but after an awkward pause, I mumbled, âDorothy Anderson.â In situations like this, there is much you think you are supposed to say, but nothing that you really know to say.Â
I kept walking, slowly, to my dorm, but stopped when I heard Cornelia say, âWhyâd you leave Balincrest?â
So, she knew some things about me. I didnât exactly know how to feel about that. In general, I liked not to be perceived. âMy sister went here.â
âOh, so youâre that Anderson.â
I didnât say anything in responseâwhat was there to say? I was used to being compared to my sister.Â
Especially by my parents.
***
I finally got to my dorm. Itâs simple. You know, what you would expect out of a dorm: two single beds, two closets, two desks, a window. I stood near my desk, unpacking my suitcases and wishing I could hide there forever, but then I heard footsteps coming from the hallway. I heard the door creak open and turned my head sharply to see Cornelia walking in. I didnât say anything to her, just turned my head back down to my desk.Â
I heard a voice, making my head jolt. I must have looked rather ridiculous, what with all the head-turning I was doing. A girl with reddish-brown hair and similarly-colored freckles popped her head in. âCornelia, study group tonight?âÂ
Cornelia responded, âYeah sure.â
âBusiness as usual, eh? Hey, hear you got the new kid. Looks like a stiff!â The girl started laughing before catching my eye. âOops,â she said awkwardly, though not as awkward as I felt, before walking away down the hall.Â
Cornelia smiled at me somewhat sheepishly, and I got the feeling she was trying not to laugh. âListen, donât listen to Cameron. She was born with her foot in her mouth, you know what I mean?âÂ
I did not, in fact, know what she meant, but I was saved by a group of girls appearing in the doorway. Why did I have to be roommates with the popular one?Â
Two of the girls both had long, brown hair, and the other short, curly blonde hair. Focusing on the hair was easier than looking them in the eye. One of the brown-haired girls leaned on the doorway and pointed at Cornelia. She had a smug expression on her face when she says, âRumor has it, you did summer school.â
Cornelia smiled. âYep. Chemistry. My father thought I should get ahead.â She moved her eyes as if she wanted to roll them but stopped herself. âHow was your summer, slick?â She smirked on that word: slick.
âKeen.â
The girls entered the room. The smug girl whipped around and told the blonde, âMeeks. Door. Closed.âÂ
Meeks nodded dutifully, closing the door while saying, playfully, âYes, maâam.â
Cornelia leaned casually on the window sill before saying, âLadies, what are the four pillars?â
âTravesty. Horror. Decadence. Excrement,â they all said in unison before laughing. The familarity between them all was obvious, and I stuck out like a sore thumb. Well, not really. I was too invisible to stick out at all. I just kept unpacking my luggage.Â
The smug girl said, âOkay, study group. Meeks aced Latin. I didnât quite flunk English. So, if you want, weâve got our study group.â
Cornelia shrugged. âSure. Cameron asked me too. Anyone mind including her?â
Smug girl seemed to pretend to consider this for a moment. âHmm. Well. Whatâs her specialty, boot-licking?â She plopped herself down on Corneilaâs bed.Â
âCome on, sheâs your roommate.â
Smug girl scoffed. âThatâs not my fault.â
Meeks seemed to notice me for the first time. She smiled at me. She had a lopsided sort of smile. âOh, Iâm sorry, Iâm Stephanie Meeks.â She pushed her glasses up her nose.
Cornelia got up from her place on the window sill and wrapped her arm around me. I was noticeably uncomfortable. Well, I thought itâs noticeable, but Cornelia didn't seem to notice. âThis is Dorothy Anderson.â
âNice to meet you,â Meeks said.
âNice to meet you,â I mumbled.
âCharlotte Dalton,â smug girl offered. âBut everyone calls me Charlie. Suits me much better.â
The other brown-haired girl offers her hand to me. âKnoxleigh Overstreet.â I shook her hand.
âDorothyâs sister was Elizabeth Anderson,â Cornelia explained, sitting down at the window again.
âOh, yeah. Valedictorian. National merit scholar,â Charlie said.
âWell,â Meeks said with a slightly defeated tone of voice. âWelcome to Hell-ton.â
âItâs every bit as tough as they say,â Charlie warned, âunless youâre a genius like Meeks.â Her smirk seemed to grow when she mentioned Meeks.
âShe flatters me. Thatâs why I help her with Latin.â
Charlie coughed. âAnd English. And trig.â
Well, theyâre nice enough, I thought. Iâll just stay out of their way, and it should be fine.
Thereâs a knock on the door. âItâs open,â Cornelia called out.
The door opened, and a woman with a stern expression and even sterner eyes walked in. Cornelia practically jolted up from the window, her posture suddenly going rigid. âMother, Iâd thought youâd gone.â Thereâs a slight voice crack on gone. The other girls stood up too.
âKeep your seats, keep your seats,â Mrs. Perry said. âCornelia, I've just spoken to Mrs. Nolan. I think that you're taking too many extracurricular activities this semester, and I've decided that you should drop the school annual.â
Cornelia shifted uncomfortably. âBut Iâm the assistant editor this year.â
Mrs. Perryâs expression seemed to soften. âWell, Iâm sorry, Cornelia.â
âBut, mother. I canât. It wouldnât be fair.â
Mrs. Perryâs expression turned cold again, and she walked out to the hallway. Cornelia hesitantly followed.
I could hear their conversation, and I couldn't help but eavesdrop. Sometimes thatâs all my life wasâexisting, observing, and having no choice but to eavesdrop on conversations nobody cared if I listened in to or not. Â
âDonât ever dispute me in public. Do you understand?â
âMother, I wasnât disputingââ Corneliaâs tone was bordering on frustration, but I could tell she was trying to keep it in check.
âAfter you've finished school and find a suitable man to marry, you're on your own, then you can do as you damn well please. But until then, you do as I tell you. Is that clear?â
âYes. Iâm sorry.â Corneliaâs tone turned empty.
âYou know how much this means to your father, donât you?â
âYes, mother. You know me, always taking on too much.â
âWell, thatâs my girl. Now, listen, you need anything, you let us know, huh?â
âYes, mother.â
Thereâs a moment of silence, then Cornelia walked back into the dorm, face expressionless.Â
Charlie was visibly irritated. âWhy doesnât she just let you do what you want?â
Knoxleigh nodded. âYeah, Cornelia, tell her off. It canât get any worse.â
Cornelia scoffed. âOh, thatâs rich. Like you tell your parents off, Ms. Pre-Law and Ms. Pre-Med, even though neither of you actually get to become lawyers or doctors.â
Charlie shrugged, defeated. âOkay, so I donât like it anymore than you do.â
âWell, just donât tell me how to talk to my mother. You guys are the same way.â
âAlright, alright. Jesus,â Knoxleigh said. âSo. What are you going to do?â
Cornelia slumped against the window. âWhat I have to do. Drop the annual.â
âWell, I wouldnât lose too much sleep over it. Itâs just a bunch of jerks trying to impress Nolan,â Charlie said.
Cornelia crossed her arms. âI donât care. I donât give a damn about any of it.â
Meeks looked awkwardly around before saying, âWell, uh, Latin, eight oâclock in my room?â
âYes,â Cornelia said, a bit too forcefully and gruffly.
âDorothy, youâre welcome to join us,â Meeks said.Â
I twisted my hands together, nervous at her mention of me.
âYeah, come along,â Knoxleigh agreed.
I finally peeled my eyes off the spot on the floor I had been staring at. âThanks,â I said, even though, of course, I wouldnât be going, and I knew very well none of them would care.
[ @jamroses you asked to be tagged so there you go :)]
KNOXLEIGH IM GIGGLING