poeta nascitur, non fit ~ steven meeks x fem!reader

who we are~

"Mr. Hopkins! Conformity is?" 

"Uh," the boy stuttered, looking at his mates for a bit of help. "Wearing the same jacket as every other kid?" Keating sighed dramatically. 

"Ah, Mr. Hopkins beware the dangers of conforming to a life of adhering to your jock stereotype." his joking insult was layered beneath his words, but (y/n) knew he was calling him out on faked stupidity.

Meeks rose his hand. That brave, stupid, wonderful boy, she thought.

"Conformity. It's altering your behavior to better fit the social construct. Being who you aren't around people just to validate yourself in their eyes." he spoke clearly and it sounded a lot to his lover that he was speaking from experience - something she made a mental note to herself to ask him about later. 

"Yes! Mr. Meeks, your dictionary vocabulary is victorious once more." Keating praised him and the girl could have sworn Meeks' eyes glinted - although perhaps it was the sunlight on his glasses. "Now, I see it in your faces that you were thinking, 'I would have walked differently'. Well, ask yourselves this: why was it that you were clapping?" 

His words sunk in deep to each of the students, realization swooping into (y/n) like a raven on heavy wings.  The next few minutes were really watching the Titanic sink, each word from Keating's mouth another bucket of water. 

"Now, I want you all to find your walk, right now." the older gentlemen instructed them "Whether it's proud, or silly. Go on, any direction you want. Gentlemen, the courtyard is yours." (y/n) immediately smirked at Meeks, who responded with his own tentative playful expression, one that made her heartstrings twang in fondness. 

"Shall we?" she asked, holding her arm out for him to take, in reverse and a most untraditional fashion. His chocolate brown eyes widened, but he accepted nonetheless. While the other boys were prancing about like awkward swans, or stepping like drunken giants, they proceeded in a mocking royal fashion. 

In her mind, (y/n) formed the bird's eye view. 

The two of them, Meeks daintily grasping her outstretched arm, oxfords and Mary Jane's clicks echoing off the smooth stone, waltzing about the courtyard amidst a group of young gentlemen in various appearances of sanity.  There was an amusing energy in the way the pair behaved, but the underlying regal manner of which they regarded one another was like soft honey dancing with hot tea - slow and beautiful.

It was quite the sight, but not much more was in her vision than his beaming smile.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

Later on that evening, (y/n) smuggled muffins and pastries from the Welton kitchen with Knox as her accomplice. 

"Can't you just, work your -?" Knox had asked when she ordered him to create a distraction. 

"My... what?" she had replied dumbly, properly confounded. Knox blushed, which gave her a clue.

"No." she gasped, now properly cross with her friend. "Knox Overstreet, tell me you did not just ask me to use the fact I am a woman to commit a crime worth multiple demerits." (y/n) seethed, nose to nose with him and her pointer finger, painted a charming beige, jabbed at his chest. He stuttered, panicking and thinking of Chris.

"Nope!" he sidestepped her, nervously running a hand through his hair. "What did you want me to do again?" she smirked coyly, happy to have put him in his place.

"Good boy, Knoxie dearest!" she patted his cheek, stinging the slightest amount "I knew you weren't going to be a sexist pig. Now, here's the plan." 

In the end, they had retrieved the necessities and walked back to the dorms, Knox jogging ahead to prepare some more poetry about his beloved. Smiling as she shook her head, (y/n) walked on - picnic basket in hand. 

Not much time after, she had approached a very popular aesthetic portion of the Academy, a stone bridge built suspended over the walking path that lead into one of its various grand entryways. Above her, she could see Neil talking to Todd about something, the pair laughing. It was a happy sight, she thought, to see them so incandescently happy the entire aura around them appeared to be glowing despite the chilly Autumn air. 

She waved as she approached, but her friendly gesture went unnoticed as a desk set flew through the air - nearly taking her pretty head off with it. (y/n) shrieked in response, picnic basket falling to the ground. 

Neil clapped a hand over his mouth, Todd also shrieking in terror. 

"Oh my God! Neil, we killed (y/n)!" he panicked, looking to see if she was, indeed, still alive. 

"Aw, man," Neil whined, resting his brunette head on Todd's shoulder "the snacks." When she had recovered, (y/n) stared up at them. 

"Did you just have the audacity to throw a desk set at my head, Neil Perry?" she yelled up at them.

"No, it was Todd!" he responded, earning himself a light punch from his partner. 

"It's my birthday, don't get me in trouble!" The blonde boy mumbled, his words lost to the wind. (y/n) decided to quickly run up the set of stairs to meet them on the same platform, all three stared down at the ruined desk set.

"I wouldn't worry," Neil shrugged nonchalantly "you'll get another one next year." (y/n) frowned, eyebrows furrowed. 

"Todd?" she asked, confused. "Is it your-" she gasped in realization, eyes wide in the moonlight. 

"It's your birthday! Happy birthday, love." she kissed his cheek and handed him a strawberry pastry. The boy blushed at her friendly affection, wishing he were anywhere else. 

"C'mon, guys," Neil started, wrapping and arm around them both as he often did "We've got chaos to master." The trio shared a grin before starting off, the excitement of another Dead Poets Society meeting looming over them.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

A/n:  Slow updates, but it gives me time to really think through the plot! Also, I wrote this on a Autumn night while wearing my fave sweater and it's such a vibe this time of year, I hope you darlings are enjoying it! xx to those in the other hemisphere, have a great summer!