Recommending The Dead Poets Society To Everyone I Meet With The Jolliest Smile That You'll Ever See On

I am tired of being sad. I wish I could find the will to write. I wish I could write to cure the ache in my chest. I want to write, but the fatigue fogs my brain, making me tired and adding to the lingering ache. Yet I want to write but the will lowers with fatigue threatening to drown me.

would you fall in love with me again from epic but its squid games and when i say squid games its just two versions and two versions means gihun x sangwoo and gihun x inho ft. a few lyrical changes lmaooo

1:

sangwoo: would you fall inlove with me again?

gihun: i would fall inlove with you over and over again i dont care how where or when you’re mine

sangwoo: i’m not the person i once was

gihun: DONT TELL ME YOU’RE NOT THE SAME PERSON! YOU’RE ALWAYS MY HUSBAND AND I’VE BEEN WAITING

sangwoo: gihun…

2:

inho: now that you know im not young-il..that i’m not the man you fell in love with..tell me..would you fall inlove with me again?

gihun: i would fall inlove with you over and over again i dont care how where or when you’re mine

inho: GET IT THROUGH YOU’RE SKULL IM NOT YOUNG-IL, IM THE ORGANIZER OF THESE GAMES, ME AND YOUNG-IL ARE NOT ONE AND THE SAME

gihun: DONT TELL ME YOU’RE NOT THE SAME PERSON! YOU’RE ALWAYS MY LOVE AND I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU

inho: gihun…

It really just hit me that we are living through history.

Even if you are not a Max Verstappen or Red Bull Racing fan, stop for a moment and relish in the greatness we’ve witnessed these past four seasons.

I remember being young and asking my father and grandfathers about Ayrton Senna and Alain Prost and Niki Lauda.

I remember being just old enough to understand the enormity of what Michael Schumacher was able to accomplish towards the end of his time with Ferrari.

One day our own children and grandchildren will oooh and aaah about how we got to witness Sebastian Vettel and Lewis Hamilton and Max Verstappen’s domination.

This sport moves quick. Champions come and go. Drivers come and go. Teams come and go.

So stop for a moment and just appreciate the era of Formula 1 we’ve been lucky enough to live through.

Oooooooooh are you doing requests?? Bc I’m just DYING to read a forbidden love trope with hort from school of good and evil 🖤he’s so bbg wet cat looking freak (affectionate)

from the author: omg hello !! yes i am !! as soon as i saw it i knew i just had to write it so here you are i hope you enjoy this anon !!

secrets in the shadows || hort x tedros’ sister reader

notes: my first request hehe

pairings: hort x ever!reader

genre: forbidden love

type: oneshot

-fic under the cut-

You sat at the window of your dorm in the School for Good, staring out at the lush landscape of Gavaldon in the distance. The flickering lanterns of the castle illuminated the night sky, and for a moment, it all seemed so peaceful. But inside, your mind was swirling with chaos.

Being Tedros’ sister came with responsibilities, especially being an Ever. You were expected to embody perfection, grace, and loyalty to the School for Good. But your heart was far more complicated than that.

You were in love with Hort.

It wasn’t supposed to happen. He was a Never, a boy from the shadows, the antithesis of everything Good stood for. Your relationship was a secret—hidden glances during classes, stolen moments in dark corridors, and whispered conversations in the dead of night. But recently, it wasn’t enough for Hort.

You remembered the fight, the one that tore a crack in your heart.

“We can’t keep doing this,” Hort had said, his voice strained as he paced back and forth in the woods just beyond the school. “I’m tired of hiding, Y/N.”

You looked at him, your arms crossed defensively. “Hort, you know why we have to. If anyone finds out, it could ruin everything.”

“Ruin what?” he snapped, turning to face you, his green eyes blazing with frustration. “All we have are a few moments here and there. We’re practically invisible. What are we even protecting?”

You swallowed hard, the weight of your crown pressing down on you. “I’m protecting my family—Tedros, the kingdom. If they find out I’m with a Never…”

Hort’s jaw clenched, his fists curling at his sides. “So, I’m just some dirty secret to you?”

“That’s not fair, Hort,” you whispered, tears pricking at your eyes. “You know it’s more than that.”

“Then why don’t you want to tell anyone? Why are you ashamed of me?” His words cut through you like a blade, sharp and painful.

“I’m not ashamed,” you choked out. “I’m scared.”

He shook his head, his expression hardening. “Fine. If you’re too scared to be with me out in the open, maybe we shouldn’t be together at all.”

And just like that, he walked away, leaving you alone with your guilt and your fear.

For weeks, things were cold between you two. Hort avoided you in the halls, and when your eyes met during lunch, he’d look away, as if the sight of you pained him. You tried to bury yourself in your studies, but nothing could distract you from the ache in your chest.

Tedros noticed something was off but didn’t pry. Beatrix, always nosy, gave you concerned looks, while Sophie and Agatha were too caught up in their own drama to notice. But you missed Hort—his sarcastic comments, his ridiculous smirk, the way he could make you laugh even on the worst days.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You had to fix things.

One night, when the moon was high in the sky, you found Hort sitting by the lake near the School for Evil, staring at the reflection of the castle in the water. He didn’t look up when you approached.

“Hort,” you said softly, stepping closer. He remained silent.

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’ve been so focused on what I’m afraid of that I forgot what matters most.”

He glanced up at you, his expression guarded but hopeful. “And what’s that?”

“You,” you said, kneeling beside him. “I love you, Hort. And I don’t want to lose you.”

His eyes softened, the hurt still there but fading. “Then why are we hiding?”

“I was scared of what my family would think. Of what the others would say,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “But I realized that none of that matters. If I lose you because of my fear, then I’ve already lost everything.”

Hort looked at you for a long moment, then sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing. “So, what now?”

You reached out and took his hand, squeezing it tightly. “We go public. Together.”

The next morning, you and Hort stood just outside the dining hall, your heart pounding as you laced your fingers together. You could already hear the chatter of students inside, oblivious to the storm about to hit.

“Ready?” Hort asked, his voice steady despite the uncertainty in his eyes.

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Ready.”

With that, you pushed open the doors, stepping into the bustling dining hall hand in hand. At first, no one noticed—students were too caught up in their conversations and breakfast. But then, the whispers started, spreading like wildfire across the room.

Beatrix was the first to react, her mouth dropping open in shock. “What—?”

Agatha and Sophie exchanged a look, their eyes wide with surprise. Anadil, Dot, and Hester, who had been sitting together, stared in disbelief, Hester’s brow furrowed in confusion while Dot’s eyes lit up with curiosity.

But the most intense reaction came from Tedros. He stood up so fast that his chair clattered to the floor, his blue eyes blazing as he stormed over to you.

“What is this?” he demanded, his gaze shifting between you and Hort. “You’re with him?”

You swallowed, standing your ground. “Yes, I am.”

Tedros stared at you, as if struggling to process your words. “But he’s a Never.”

“I know,” you said, lifting your chin. “And I love him.”

The dining hall went silent, all eyes on you and Hort. Tedros looked torn between anger and confusion, but after a moment, he let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “Fine,” he muttered, though he clearly wasn’t thrilled. “Just…don’t expect me to like it.”

Hort smirked, giving Tedros a mock salute. “Wouldn’t dream of it, mate.”

Agatha nudged Sophie, who was still staring in disbelief. “Looks like love really is unpredictable,” she whispered, earning a glare from Sophie.

You turned to Hort, squeezing his hand as relief washed over you. The hardest part was over, and now, you were free to be together—no more hiding, no more secrets.

And as you and Hort sat down, hand in hand, you realized that nothing else mattered as long as you had each other.

f1 grid (1/2) | pranking the parents

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc (click here for part two) ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by 🫐) : when you prank your boyfriend’s mom or sister, he plays along a little too well...will they take your side?

୨ৎ : genre : comedy ୨ৎ : word count : 1208

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : im running out of pics to use for the banner omfg

ʚ・max verstappen

spending time with max and his sister, victoria, was always entertaining.

the three of you were lounging in the verstappen living room, a race playing faintly in the background while max scrolled through his phone, feet kicked up on the coffee table.

you stretched dramatically, looking over at him. “babe, can you grab me some water from the kitchen?”

max didn’t even glance up, completely deadpan as he muttered—

“do i look like your assistant?”

silence.

you barely had time to process what happened next.

victoria’s head snapped toward max so fast, you swore she almost gave herself whiplash.

her eyebrows shot up, pure disbelief etched across her face.

“max, what the hell? be nice.”

max, still committed to the bit, shrugged. “what? she can walk.”

victoria’s expression darkened.

and before max could react, a pillow came flying across the room, smacking him directly in the face.

you gasped, quickly covering your mouth to hold back laughter.

max blinked, stunned, the pillow still resting in his lap. “did you just—”

victoria crossed her arms, unimpressed. “go help her before i make you regret it.”

max groaned, dragging himself off the couch like it was the biggest inconvenience of his life. “fine. but i want it on record that i was forced.”

you smirked as he trudged toward the kitchen, victoria shaking her head in pure disappointment.

“you put up with that?” she asked, exasperated.

you grinned. “eh, he’s useful sometimes.”

from the kitchen, max’s voice rang out. “i heard that.”

ʚ・lewis hamilton

family dinners with the hamiltons were always a warm affair, good food, laughter, and anthony hamilton’s unmatched ability to tell stories that had everyone hooked.

you nudged lewis gently. “babe, can you grab me a drink from the fridge?”

without missing a beat, he shrugged lazily, not even looking up from his plate.

“you have legs, don't you?”

the table fell silent.

lewis barely registered the shift in energy before his dad, anthony hamilton himself, slowly turned to him.

“lewis carl davidson hamilton.”

lewis froze mid-bite. oh, no.

anthony placed his fork down with a deliberate slowness that made the whole moment so much worse.

“what did you just say to y/n? ‘she has legs?’ well, so do you, be a gentleman!”

your hand was clamped over your mouth, trying so hard not to laugh.

lewis, already feeling the heat, looked around for an escape route. “dad, it’s a joke—”

anthony didn’t let him finish.

“no, what’s a joke is me raising a son who forgets his manners.”

at that moment, lewis knew he had lost.

sighing dramatically, he pushed back his chair, already getting up. “alright, alright, i’m going!”

anthony nodded approvingly, taking a sip of his drink. “that’s more like it.”

as lewis disappeared into the kitchen, you exchanged a knowing glance with his dad, who simply smirked.

“give him a hard time, yeah?” anthony murmured, and you grinned.

“oh, always.”

ʚ・george russell

you reached for the sugar but stopped just short, looking at george. “babe, can you pass me the sugar?”

george barely glanced up from his tea, a smirk creeping onto his lips.

“what, are your hands broken?”

silence.

dramatic, suffocating, judgmental silence.

then—a sharp gasp.

“george william russell!”

george physically flinched.

his mother had set her teacup down with force, staring at him like he had just committed high treason against the british monarchy.

he looked between you and his mum, instantly regretting everything.

“mum, it’s not that serious,” he tried, hands slightly raised in defense.

alison placed a hand over her chest, shaking her head in pure disappointment.

“it is very serious. where did i go wrong with you?”

you were seconds away from losing it, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

finally, you cracked, giggling as you waved your hands in surrender.

“it’s a prank!” you admitted, barely able to get the words out.

george sighed in relief, running a hand through his hair. “bloody hell, you nearly got me disowned.”

alison, however, was unfazed, lifting her tea to her lips as she shook her head.

“y/n, you could do so much better.”

george nearly spilled his tea.

“mu—are you serious?!”

you grinned, winking at alison.

“maybe.”

ʚ・carlos sainz

reyes sainz effortlessly kept everyone in check without even raising her voice.

which is exactly why you knew this prank would be perfect.

the family was gathered around the table, laughter and conversation flowing easily as you reached for your glass.

you turned to carlos, your voice sweet. “cariño, can you grab me a napkin?”

carlos, not even looking up from his plate, shrugged.

“get it yourself.”

silence.

instant. deafening. silence.

you felt the temperature drop by ten degrees as carlos’ mother, reyes, slowly set down her fork.

then, in the calmest, most dangerous voice, she said—

“perdón?” (excuse me?)

carlos finally looked up, suddenly very aware that the entire table was staring at him.

you could feel the panic radiating off him as he quickly backtracked, already regretting every life choice that led him to this moment.

reyes’ gaze remained sharp, assessing.

then, with the slightest tilt of her head, she said—

“carlos, go get it before i do something you’ll regret.”

carlos shot up so fast, his chair nearly tipped over as he rushed to the napkin holder.

you lost it, laughter spilling out as the entire table erupted in amusement.

reyes simply shook her head, taking a sip of her wine. “you two are ridiculous, but, y/n, if he ever speaks to you like that again, you tell me.”

carlos, returning defeated, dropped the napkin in front of you with a glare.

you grinned, leaning in. “what's it like getting scolded by your mother, amor?”

ʚ・charles leclerc

spending time with charles and his brothers, arthur and lorenzo, was always entertaining.

three leclerc men in one room meant a mix of teasing, bickering, and an unspoken rule that charles could never win an argument.

which is why you knew this prank would be gold.

“oh, charles, can you grab my sunglasses from the car?”

charles, casually sipping his espresso, waved a hand dismissively.

“that's far, get it yourself”

silence.

dead. serious. silence.

arthur whipped his head around so fast, you thought he might get whiplash.

“charles. that’s not how you talk to your girlfriend.”

lorenzo, who had been calmly eating his meal, set his fork down with purpose.

“apologize. immediately.”

charles’ expression shifted from smug to terrified in under two seconds.

his green eyes darted between his brothers, realization dawning that he was outnumbered, outgunned, and completely screwed.

“guys, relax, it’s not that—”

arthur leaned forward, voice dead serious. “no. apologize.”

you pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh, but the way charles was visibly sweating was making it so much harder.

finally, you cracked, bursting into laughter.

arthur and lorenzo turned to you, confused, as you giggled uncontrollably.

“it’s a prank,” you admitted, wiping away a tear.

arthur sat back, sighing dramatically. “i was about to throw my fork at you, charles.”

lorenzo took another sip of his drink, completely unfazed. “the threat still stands.”

charles muttered something under his breath as he begrudgingly got up to fetch your sunglasses.

you smirked, watching him walk away. “i love this family.”

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

ours || poly! uliana's crew x reader

|| note: AHHHH IM SO EXCITED FOR ALL OF YOU TO READ THIS

|| pairings: uliana x reader, hook x reader, morgie x reader, hades x reader, maleficent x reader, maleficent x hades

|| poly, fluff, jealousy

|| from the author: my favorite characters from rise of red mwa mwa

-fic under the cut-

The corridors of Merlin’s Academy were alive with activity, filled with a mix of students from different backgrounds—royals, villains, and everyone in between. You walked through the halls with a confident stride, a natural result of your royal upbringing. Yet, behind that confidence was a heart that had been captured by a rather unconventional group.

Uliana, Hook, Morgie, Hades, and Maleficent—they were your everything.

Your relationship with them had started slowly, each bond forming in its own time, like pieces of a puzzle falling into place. Uliana, with her sly smiles and endless charm, was the first to draw you in. Hook followed with his reckless grin and roguish wit. Morgie’s quiet strength, Hades’ surprisingly warm heart, and Maleficent’s fierce protectiveness—all of them had captured your heart in their own unique ways.

And they had captured each other’s too. Love flowed freely between all of you, a beautiful, tangled web of affection that defied the expectations of the world around you.

But today, something felt off.

You were outside by the fountain, chatting with your friends—Bridget, Ella, and Charming—when you noticed Uliana, Hook, Morgie, Hades, and Maleficent watching from a distance. Their expressions were tight, their postures stiff. Something was wrong.

After saying goodbye to your friends, you made your way over to them. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Uliana’s usual smirk was missing as she glanced at the others. Hook was the first to speak, his voice laced with a rare vulnerability. “(Y/N), why are you with us?”

You blinked, confused by the question. “What do you mean?”

Morgie sighed, crossing his arms as he leaned against a tree. “You’re a royal, (Y/N). You have everything—the status, the friends, the perfect life. Why would you want to be with a bunch of misfits like us?”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You looked around at them, seeing the insecurity and doubt in their eyes. Even Maleficent, usually so composed, looked unsure, her gaze fixed on the ground.

Hades was the one who broke the silence. “You could have anyone, (Y/N). Why choose us? We’re not like you. We’re... not enough.”

Your heart ached at the sight of their pain. You stepped forward, reaching for Uliana’s hand first. “You’re all more than enough for me. I don’t care about being a royal or what anyone else thinks. I care about you—all of you.”

You turned to Hook, placing a hand on his cheek. “You make me laugh like no one else can.”

Then to Morgie, brushing your fingers against his. “You’re strong and steady, always there when I need you.”

You faced Hades next, cupping his face in your hands. “You have the kindest heart, even if you try to hide it.”

And finally, to Maleficent, who met your gaze with uncertainty. “You’re fierce and protective, and I love that about you.”

You took a step back so you could see all of them at once. “I love you all for who you are. That’s why I’m with you—because you make me feel like I’m home.”

Uliana was the first to react, pulling you into a tight embrace. “I’m sorry,” she murmured into your hair. “We were just... scared, I guess.”

Hook joined in, wrapping his arms around both of you. “Yeah, we’re idiots.”

Morgie, Hades, and Maleficent followed, surrounding you in a warm, protective circle. “We’re lucky to have you,” Morgie said softly.

“And I’m lucky to have you,” you replied, squeezing them all tightly.

The tension melted away, replaced by the comforting warmth of being with the people you loved most in the world. Whatever doubts they had, you were determined to dispel them, to show them every day just how much they meant to you.

The next day, everything seemed to return to normal, or so you thought. You spent the morning attending classes, and during lunch, you hung out with your friends—Bridget, Ella, and Charming. They were laughing about something when Bridget’s expression grew serious.

“(Y/N), can we talk for a second?” Bridget asked, her tone low.

You nodded, curious but not alarmed. “Sure, what’s up?”

Ella and Charming exchanged glances before Ella spoke. “It’s about Uliana, Hook, Morgie, Hades, and Maleficent. They’ve been... well, they’ve been pulling pranks. Mean ones.”

Your stomach dropped. “What do you mean?”

Charming sighed, running a hand through his hair. “They’ve been targeting other students. Specifically, other royals.”

“They’re trying to prove something,” Bridget added, her voice gentle. “I don’t think it’s malicious, but it’s definitely causing problems.”

You felt a mix of disappointment and frustration. This wasn’t like them—not the people you knew and loved. But you also remembered the conversation you had with them the day before, how they had expressed their insecurities about your relationship. It all made sense now.

“Thanks for telling me,” you said, your voice steady. “I’ll handle it.”

You found them later that afternoon, gathered in their usual spot. They were laughing, clearly pleased with themselves over something. But when they saw you approaching, their smiles faltered.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?” Uliana asked, noticing the serious expression on your face.

You crossed your arms, not bothering to mask your disappointment. “I know about the pranks.”

Their reactions varied—Uliana looked guilty, Hook tried to play it off with a grin, Morgie and Maleficent avoided your gaze, and Hades sighed deeply.

“Why?” you asked, your voice filled with hurt. “Why would you do something like this?”

“(Y/N), it’s not a big deal,” Hook started, but you cut him off.

“It is a big deal, Hook. You’re hurting people because you’re insecure. You’re trying to prove something that doesn’t need proving.”

Uliana frowned, her guilt turning to defensiveness. “They had it coming. Those royals look down on us. They think we’re nothing but trouble.”

“And you’re proving them right by acting like this!” you shot back. “You’re better than this. All of you are.”

Morgie finally spoke up, his voice subdued. “We just... we didn’t want to lose you. They have so much to offer, and we’re just...”

You softened at his words, your heart aching for them. “I chose you. I choose you every day. But this? This isn’t the way to handle it.”

Hades, who had been silent until now, stepped forward, taking your hand in his. “We’re sorry, (Y/N). We didn’t think it would get this far.”

You squeezed his hand, looking at each of them in turn. “You don’t need to prove anything to me. I love you for who you are, not for what you think you should be. I don’t want to see you hurting others because of your insecurities.”

Maleficent finally spoke, her voice low but sincere. “We won’t do it again. We’ll make it right.”

Uliana nodded, her earlier defensiveness melting away. “We’ll fix this, (Y/N). We promise.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, feeling the tension leave your shoulders. “Thank you. I don’t want to see you guys hurt anyone, but I also don’t want to see you hurting yourselves with this kind of behavior.”

They all moved closer, surrounding you in a group hug that felt as warm and comforting as ever. Uliana pressed a kiss to your temple, Hook wrapped an arm around your waist, Morgie rested his forehead against yours, Hades held you close, and Maleficent gently touched your cheek.

“We love you, (Y/N),” Uliana whispered, and the others murmured their agreement.

“And I love you,” you replied, your voice thick with emotion. “We’re in this together, okay? No more doubts, no more pranks. Just us.”

They nodded, and you knew they meant it. The love you shared was stronger than any insecurities, any doubts. And together, you would face whatever challenges came your way, hand in hand.

🥰 🥰 🥰 for @rjshope

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content i create who i write for

buying you time || part 1

past! neil perry x reader, present! charlie dalton x reader

1960 – A Kingdom Without a King

Welton Academy still stood, unchanged, but it no longer felt like home.

You had returned, though you weren’t sure why. Perhaps it was because some part of you still belonged to the past, trapped in the halls where laughter and poetry once reigned. The world had moved on, but your heart remained behind, tangled in memories that refused to fade.

Neil Perry had been gone for over a year now.

The weight of him pressed against your ribcage, an ache that never dulled. Time had passed, seasons had changed, but grief remained—woven into you like Penelope’s shroud, stitched together by day, unraveled by night.

And Charlie Dalton had been watching.

Waiting.

The boy who had never known patience now stood by your side, silent and steady, never pushing, never demanding. Just… there.

You weren’t sure how much longer he would wait.

And you weren’t sure if you wanted him to.

⸻

1959 – The Game

“You don’t have to do this.”

Neil grinned at you, mischief flickering behind his eyes. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You rolled your eyes, watching as he lined up his shot. The Dead Poets had taken refuge at the Dalton estate for the weekend, and Neil had challenged Charlie to an archery contest. A terrible idea, really, given that neither of them had ever touched a bow before.

Charlie leaned against a tree, smirking. “Come on, Perry, show me what you got.”

Neil raised the bow, drew back the string, and let the arrow fly. It wobbled through the air before plummeting into the dirt several feet away from the target.

Charlie burst into laughter.

Neil turned to you, utterly unbothered. “That was just a warm-up.”

You shook your head, smiling. “I think you’re better at monologues than marksmanship.”

He leaned in, eyes twinkling. “Lucky for you, I’m very good at monologues.”

Charlie groaned. “Please, spare us.”

Neil ignored him, turning back to you, his voice dropping into something softer. “Do you think I could do it?”

You frowned. “Do what?”

“Win the throne.”

You studied him, the way his hands tightened around the bow, the way his shoulders tensed. This was a game, but for Neil, it was something more. A challenge. A test. Proof that he could defy the fate his father had set for him.

“Of course you could,” you said.

Neil smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Charlie noticed too.

Later that night, as you sat by the fire, Charlie nudged your shoulder. “You really think he could win?”

You looked across the room, where Neil sat reading, the flickering light casting shadows over his face.

“I think he already has.”

⸻

1960 – The Unfinished Letter

You found it in Neil’s old copy of Hamlet, the pages worn from his touch.

The ink was smudged in places, as if he had hesitated while writing, but the words were clear.

“Father,” it began.

“I know you will never understand, but I cannot live the life you want for me. I tried. I swear I tried. But my heart does not belong to textbooks and law degrees. It belongs to the stage, to poetry, to the kind of love that makes life worth living. I cannot keep pretending to be someone I am not. I have been buying myself time, hoping I would find another way. But time is running out.”

“I am sorry.”

“I love you.”

It wasn’t finished.

It never would be.

Charlie found you later, sitting on the floor of your room, the letter crumpled in your hands. He didn’t say anything—just sat beside you, waiting.

After a long silence, you whispered, “I should give it to his father.”

Charlie exhaled sharply. “What do you think that’ll change?”

You swallowed hard. “I don’t know.”

“Then don’t do it.” His voice was gentle, but firm. “You think he deserves this? After everything?”

You closed your eyes. “No.”

Charlie sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Then let it go.”

You shook your head. “I don’t know how.”

Charlie hesitated before reaching for your hand.

“Then let me help.”

⸻

1959 – The Last Performance

The theater was alive.

The air thrummed with energy, with the weight of a thousand unseen eyes. The audience sat in hushed anticipation, waiting for the curtain to rise.

Neil stood at the center of it all, his presence electric, his voice steady.

“O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!” he declared, his words ringing through the space.

You watched from the wings, breath caught in your throat. He was radiant, every inch the king he had always longed to be.

When the play ended, when the applause roared like thunder, he found you backstage, his face alight with triumph.

“I did it,” he whispered.

“You did,” you breathed, pressing a kiss to his lips.

And for one perfect moment, the world was his.

⸻

1960 – The Storm

It rained the night Neil died.

A storm, violent and unrelenting.

You had run through it, breathless, desperate, slipping on the wet ground as you stumbled toward his house. Charlie had been right behind you, cursing under his breath, but you had barely heard him.

By the time you arrived, the world had already gone silent.

Neil’s mother was standing in the doorway, her face pale, her hands shaking. She had not spoken a word as she stepped aside, letting you and Charlie inside.

The house smelled of gunpowder.

Of smoke and sin.

You hadn’t screamed. You hadn’t cried. You had simply stood there, staring at the body of the boy you loved, knowing in your soul that time had finally run out.

⸻

1960 – The Final Choice

You stood at Neil’s grave, the cold biting at your skin.

“I never thought it would come to this,” you whispered.

The wind howled in response.

Charlie stood a few steps behind, waiting, always waiting.

You turned to him, your voice barely above a whisper. “How did you do it?”

Charlie exhaled slowly, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. “Do what?”

“Let him go.”

He was quiet for a long moment before he said, “I didn’t.”

You frowned, but he shook his head. “You don’t let go of someone like Neil. You just… learn to live with the hole they left behind.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Does it ever stop hurting?”

Charlie gave you a sad smile. “Not really.”

You looked back at the gravestone, the name carved into the marble like a wound that would never heal.

Neil Perry.

“I don’t know how to live without him,” you admitted.

Charlie took a step closer, his voice steady. “Then let me teach you.”

You turned to him, really looking at him for the first time in months. His eyes were different now, shadowed with grief, but there was something else there too.

Something like hope.

You hesitated, then reached for his hand. His fingers curled around yours, warm and steady.

Maybe, just maybe, it was time to let go of the past.

Maybe it was time to start again.

And as Charlie squeezed your hand, anchoring you to the present, you thought—perhaps Neil would have wanted that too.