Hi my name is Robert Se’an Angel-of-Death
Pope Leonard and I have floppy evil brown hair (that’s how I got my name) with bangs and a white zucchetto on top and chocolate brown eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people get me confused with Matt Damon (AN: if u don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Jude Law but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a vampire but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I’m also the Angel of Death, and I go to a gay school called Welton Academy in Vermont where I’m in the seventh year (I’m forty seven). I’m a goth pope (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly regalia. I love the Vatican tailor and I get all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing my papal vestments with matching white gloves and a shining wand, pink fishnets and loafers. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was walking outside Welton. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of interviewers stared at me. I compared my family to tarantulas at them.
You were home alone, doing your homework until you heard someone at the front door. Through the window you could see the one and only Todd Anderson
*flashback* *random woman starts to play the harp* (A/N: who is that lady??)
You had met Todd at the first day of school at Welton Academy. You were helping your little brother with his suitcase. Until you ended up bumping into someone and falling. You waited for the impacked to come, but it never did. When you opened your eyes you saw a slightly blushing boy holding you by your waist. ‘Sorry about that’, he mumbled. You smiled and said: “it’s alright, I'm (Y/N) and you"
“That’s a beautiful name, I’m Todd Anderson’, he smiled while still blushing. At that moment you realised, even though he has already helped you up, he was still holding you by the waist. When he noticed this, he quickly let go. Before any of you could say anything, your father yelled at you to come to him, you were leaving.
You began to walk away when you felt a hand grab yours, “wait… do you.. eh… maybe… wanna go for a coffee sometime?” You smiled brightly and agreed to his invitation and gave him the number to your home phone. At this point you have seen each other multiple times and you had to admit, you really liked him.
*end of flashback*
You opened the door for him and smiled: hi Todd, I wasnt expecting you.
“Uh hi (Y/N), I know this a bit on short notice but eh…"
Todd was interrupted by a boy in the car behind him who yelled: hi Todd I didn’t know your girlfriend was this hot!!
Which cause the both of you to blush furiously and the other boys in the care to yell “shut up Nuwanda!!”
“Anyway, Todd continued, “I was wondering if you’d like to you to a play with is, our friend Neil had the lead role in “midsummer night’s dream”.
“I’d love to but I have nothing nice to wear.” You were wairing a plain (f/c) dress and your favourite shoes.
“No you look beautiful”, he said without heditating for even a second. You blushed: “okay than.”
Todd offered you his hand and you took it. After a few steps he stopped walking and turned back to you, but looking at the ground: “I’m really not good at this, but ehh.. would you maybe want to be my ehh.. girlfriend?”
You smiled brightly and hugged him: “yes, I’d love to.” He hugged you back after a few seconds.
After a while you both pulled away, but before you could say anything you felt Todd’s lips on yours. It took you by surprise but after a while you started to kiss back, wrapping your arms around his neck while his wrapped around your waist.
Both of you were oblivious to the whistles of Todd’s friend and the boy you now knew as Nuwanda saying: “that’s mah boy.”
218. In 1989 a muggleborn student fell in love with the message of individuality, learning, and freedom of expression they discovered in the new movie ‘Dead Poet’s Society’. Inspired by Mr Keating and his impact on the lives of the boys at Welton Academy, they decide to set up their own Dead Poet’s Society. To this day a group of ravenclaws still meet by candlelight in the room of requirement and share their love for the written word
I’ve never hated a film quite the way I hate Dead Poets Society. I expect that them’s fighting words, at least in some quarters; at least I hope they are. Because I’m trying to pick a fight here.
I was in the last year of my English literature PhD program in the summer of 1989, when Dead Poets Society was released. My younger brother Scott, who really didn’t have the money to spare, slipped my wife Robyn & me a ten-dollar bill (these were simpler times) and told us he’d watch our kids so we could go out to see it. No one in my family quite understood what I wanted to do for a living or, having finished my bachelor’s degree, why I’d spend seven more years in school to do it; but having seen Dead Poets Society, Scott believed he finally had an idea of what I wanted to do with my life, and more importantly, why.
We went to the movie and watched, often swept up in the autumnal New England beauty of Welton Academy (the real-life St. Andrew’s School, Middletown, Delaware). But I walked out horrified that anyone would think that what happens in Mr. Keating’s classroom—or outside of it, because so many of his poetry-derived “life lessons” are taught outside the classroom, after all—had anything to do with literary study, or why I was pursuing a graduate degree in English. I think I hate Dead Poets Society for the same reason that Robyn, a physician assistant, hates House: because its portrayal of my profession is both misleading and deeply seductive. For what Keating (Robin Williams) models for his students isn’t literary criticism, or analysis, or even study. In fact, it’s not even good, careful reading. Rather, it’s the literary equivalent of fandom. Worse, it’s anti-intellectual. It takes Emily Dickinson’s playful remark to her mentor Thomas Higginson, “If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry,” and turns it into a critical principle. It’s not.
I do know how to update stuff but i don’t know how to think of good titlesThe third chapter of my SoMa College AU! Part I is here x Part II is here xAs always, I hope you enjoy!Sorry about the formatting, again, Tumblr is being a stinker.*Sidenote: Kinda spoilers for “Dead Poets Society” in here. Never actually says anything that happens, but if you literally have never seen or heard anything of it and plan to watch it….it will probably stir up your curiosity more than anything. But yeah, I thought I’d warn in case. Don’t need pissy people on my case.*When she approached their table the next morning, she found him in one of his brooding moods, hunched over his plate with a deep scowl.“What’s eating you?" "I caught the stupid college cold.” He grumbled, ignoring her little attempt at a pun as he stabbed his eggs with a resounding clink. His voice was indeed more nasal than usual, and his normally tan cheeks seemed flushed. “Happens to everyone eventually.” She gave him a sympathetic half-smile as she munched on her pancakes. “Yeah but…did it have to happen today…”“Wha-ooooh.” She blushed, realizing she’d already forgotten their date. She’d been so busy… “It’s alright, Soul. I have a lot to do this weekend anyway. We can do it when you feel better.”He mumbled something to himself before shoving a forkful of fluffy yellow into his cheeks. “Oh stop pouting.” She quirked a grin. “If you’re a good boy…”