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As daughter of one of Welton Academy's famous alumni and a popular teacher, Amanda Keating becomes the youngest member of the school's faculty working alongside her own father, a force to be reckoned with. From several classic novels to a new artistic discovery to a newfound potential for romance, Amanda laughs, writes, cries, and lives among the overwhelming staff, the cheeky students, and the newly revived, always wild, Dead Poets Society. Highest Ranks: #1 in johnkeating #1 in neilperry #3 in deadpoetssociety

The first chapter has it all...

The title explains it. Imagines and preferences for the dead poets

Not my poems!!! I'll start this for school to memorize a poem. My teacher wants us to know the poem by heart and says it inspired many: "Invictus" by William Earnest Henley (1875) (Need this for my social studies course in English, English is not my native language) All rights to the rightful owners

゜✩・.・✯・゜𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐎 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐆𝐂 ❝ i want to love a boy the way i love the ocean wish i was not afraid of all i have that's broken i know i must behave to contain all my emotion ❞ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ when 7 teenage boys make a group chat to survive yet another year at welton academy, chaos will ensue. a dead poets society au taking place in 2020 (if covid didn't exist). this fanfic is very much gay, so if you're homophobic like neil's and cameron's parents, please educate yourself and yeet yourself outta here. we don't want you. beware of clear *gen-z vibes* + fandom references that I am either very familiar with or are obviously inaccurate (poetry). this story is inspired by " doriians" on ao3, so you should check that out! please comment on a specific chapter if you happen to read this one and the one by doriians and notice that i accidentally stole an idea. also, i love receiving comments! they make my day and i tend to update it more often if you let me know you like them! ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ❝ like a hidden cave i am always open i hold the space you made i'm empty but still hoping i have a feeling a terrible fear encroaching ❞ {DEAD POETS SOCIETY} © focusonthefuture (tara) - 2021 -discontinued- ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Modern day Dead Poets Society. A friendly introduction turns into an unexpected crush.

Short stories I have written over the past five years that I may never finish-ranging from a preacher who lied about the word of God to a little girl with monsters in her basement, these are all stories I wrote myself and may never continue. In the words of Mr. Keating from Dead Poets Society, a yawp is a loud cry or yell. Walt Whitman once said that "I sound my barbaric yawp over the rooftops of the world." People yawp to call out in despair or victory or anger. It is your mark on the world. And maybe these stories will be mine.

Just some stories I make up for the Dead Poets universe to keep myself occupied as I try to escape reality.

This story tells how the Dead Poets would react in any other situations