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Die Hard and Other Problems - A Dead Poets Society Oneshot
Read on ao3
In which Charlie is a Jake Peralta kinnie, Neil is in his RENT era, and Cameron wishes he’d gone to any other Christmas party.
“Die Hard is, undeniably, the best Christmas movie.”
They’ve had this argument before. Charlie’s never succeeded, but he sure as hell won’t stop trying.
Cameron groans, facepalming, and Meeks closes his eyes with an exasperated sigh. Pitts takes the smarter route, and ignores him.
To Charlie’s right, on the long red couch in the Overstreet family TV room, Neil bolts up from his place curled into Todd’s side, the bells on his “Don We Now Our GAY Apparel” ugly sweater jingling.
“How could you even suggest that?! Everyone knows RENT is the most influential and iconic Christmas-related film in the history of cinema-”
“I like Elf.” Knox pipes up.
“We know, Knoxious,” Charlie snaps. “But cmon, Die Hard is just better!”
Cameron raises his eyebrows, fed up. “Dalton, have you ever actually seen Die Hard?”
Charlie sighs. “No, Cameron, not technically, but it’s just so fun to get Neil going like that!”
Todd hides a chuckle as his boyfriend gapes, inner drama queen unlocked.
Knox squeezes Charlie’s hand. “Sit down, babe. We decided on Elf yesterday.”
Charlie grumbles and pouts, muttering under his breath. “Some Christmas Eve this is. Not even drunk. Stupid movie.”
But still, he sits, head drooping onto Knox’s shoulder.
Knox grabs the remote, but after a minute of searching, he turns back to the others.
“So. One issue. I probably should have checked earlier, but it slipped my mind. We…don’t actually own Elf. How about Love, Actually?”
An uproar rises through the other boys. Neil shouts something about Knox doing this on purpose. Charlie chants “DIE! HARD! DIE! HARD!” Pitts quietly suggests The Muppets Christmas Carol. Cameron simply stands up and leaves.
Todd smiles. This is what the holidays are about, right? The domestic chaos, paired with petty arguments and useless pranks. Despite it all, they’re a family. And Todd wouldn’t have it any other way.
But though he’ll never tell, deep down, he really does wish they’d gone with The Grinch.
#nic writes#nics stuff#dps#dead poets#dead poets society#dps fanfiction#dead poets society fanfiction#nics fics#anderperry#knarlie#ao3
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it’s over, isn’t it? (why can’t i move on?)
(a short post-episode six angsty fic because i’m still struggling to cope <3)
It’s over.
Crowley knows it’s over, white knuckles clutching the wheel, body shaking.
The Bentley doesn’t agree. She wants to hear nightingales. She wants the passenger seat to be filled.
Crowley doesn’t know what he wants anymore.
Of course he wants Aziraphale. He’s all he wants. Has ever wanted.
But everything is wrong now.
Crowley knows he’s not enough. Has never been enough. He knows “our side” was a sweet fantasy, something Aziraphale would nod along to as a stand-in for the side he really wanted.
Crowley knows, and has known, every time over the last 6000 years that he’s woken up alone.
It’s not fucking fair, he realizes, slamming on the brakes.
Maggie and Nina get time. They get to come back to each other when they’re ready.
Crowley doesn’t get time.
Gabriel and Beelzebub, of all people, get a happy ending. Get HIS happy ending.
The angel and the demon, run away to the stars, their eternity a blank story they get to write together. That’s what he and Aziraphale should have had.
Could have had.
Crowley sits in his car, feeling alone in a way he hasn’t felt since that awful time between falling and the garden. He’s an angel-less demon once again.
They could have been having breakfast at the Ritz right now, toasting “to the world.”
Except, it’s not breakfast time. It’s dark. Crowley’s been driving for Satan knows how many hours.
And, of course, Aziraphale will never go out for a nice breakfast with him again. Not after what happened.
He can’t stop replaying it in his head, looking for what went wrong.
Maybe Crowley should have tried harder. Maybe if he’d spoken first. If he had just kept bargaining. If he hadn’t fucking kissed him-
Crowley can’t breathe.
He’s crying now, shaking and gasping and parked in the middle of the empty road. He doesn’t know where he is. He doesn’t know where he’s going.
Crowley doesn’t know shit about a world without Aziraphale in it.
Against his better judgment, he remembers.
He remembers the stars. The garden.
He remembers the flood, and Job’s basement.
He remembers oysters and crepes, wine and poison and sweet warm cocoa in an angel-wing mug.
He remembers the ducks and the park and Aziraphale’s smile, his laugh, his wings, his hands.
He remembers Warlock and Anathema and the children on the boat and the children at the airbase and Job and Jesus and Muriel, Maggie and Nina and Newt and Nazis, angels and demons and humans and so many people over so many centuries who’d assumed, like Crowley, that he and the angel would just…work out some day. Would just happen.
They, like him, had just assumed that maybe the angel would love the demon just as fiercely as the demon loved the angel.
Crowley loves Aziraphale.
He can’t stop crying now, pathetic and messy and scared.
There is no Crowley without Aziraphale.
Aziraphale is gone. Who is Crowley?
The books will be sold. The coffee will be served. Heaven and Hell will keep running. Earth will spin. Humans will be born and will die and will love and learn and lose and win, and Crowley will still be alone.
It’s so unbearably….unbearable.
Being alive is so lonely.
He puts his foot on the gas.
The car, the plants, and the demon are speeding into the night, going somewhere, anywhere but here.
(read on ao3 here)
#nic writes#gos2 spoilers#angst#ineffable husbands#ineffable husbands fanfiction#good omens#good omens season 2#good omens fanfiction#fanfiction#crowley pov#the bentley#hhhhhh im not very tickety boo
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short rogermon writing <333
hihi! felt like doing some writing and there’s nothing better than a fluffy first person poemy short writing so here yall go!
this was written way too late at night for my own good and was not beta read in any way- but please enjoy some sweet musings on two of my favorite little guys <3333
“I hate everyone but you,” he laughs, grinning at me from his seat beside me.
I had smiled and rolled my eyes. A typical game night in our dorm: the others at each others throats, and Roger and I, alone together.
“I hate everyone but you,” he yells, from across the crowded hall.
It’s his ‘good morning’ to me, a sort of promise for the rest of the day and all the days that follow.
“I hate everyone but you,” he whispered into my hair as he held me close on a cold winter’s night, simply too tired to fall asleep.
“I hate everyone but you,” he cried, hand in hand in late afternoon togetherness, sobbing softly into each others arms until I could not tell who’s grief was who’s.
It’s a fact that only I know means so much more than what it states. Because sometimes, “I hate everyone but you” really means “I love you, more than anything else.”
hope you enjoyed!! <3
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⭐️⭐️⭐️ welcome !! ⭐️⭐️⭐️
my name is nic (he/him ftm) main is @rrcenic
this is my writing blog!
i don’t write very much but i intend to do it more. ill do some collabs with my lovely cousin @cissyenthusiast010155
most of my work will be mlm :)
im up for anything! fluff, angst, smut, hurt/comfort, aus, and everything in between
the fandoms im most excited to write for are dead poets society, lord of the flies, and good omens
i’ll also write for our flag means death, les mis, the umbrella academy, the riordanverse, enders game, genshin impact, and the mauraders era potterverse
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
GUIDELINES:
absolutely no smut for lord of the flies. no exceptions. i don’t care id they’re aged up.
please be respectful with asks <33
ill absolutely do y/n fics if people want them
if you have a fandom im not knowledgeable about that you’d like me to write for, id love to chat about it and learn more! dm me at any time
#new writer on tumblr#nic writes#lord of the flies#genshin impact#good omens#fanfiction#fluff#mlm#angst#smut#harry potter#les miserables#the umbrella academy#riordianverse#au
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