?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63722188/chapters/165347053

sneak peek;

And then, suddenly, “No.”

Knox threw him a look over his shoulder, arching an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“No,” Charlie repeated, pointing a finger at him like he was trying to physically stop whatever the hell was happening in front of him. “You don’ just – just – flawlessly switch to French like that. Like it’s nothing.”

Knox blinked at him, entirely unimpressed. “It is nothing. I grew up speaking multiple languages, Blackthorn. By the Angel, there’s a branch of the Carstairs family tree that comes from Sanghai.”

Charlie physically jolted. Pitts tried to swallow a chuckle. Charlie rounded at him instead.

“What are you laughing at?”

Pitts shrugged, feigning innocence. “Nothing.

‐--------------------------------------------------------------------

The creature lunged.

If Todd wasn’t petrified he’d be impressed. It was an almost elegant move. The distant it managed to cover with a simple jump landed it nearly on top of him. Todd had maybe half a second to process that he was going to die, before someone yanked him out of the way, hard. A hand gripped the collar of his shirt jerking him out of balance. A whoosh of the air hit him straight on the face as he was forced out of the creature’s trajectory.

Todd let a small yelp, as a figure jumped in front of him, cradling a long sword. The figure twirled around; the weapon expertly gripped in their hand. All Todd saw was the flash of silver.

And then an explosion of black, thick gooey substance. The stench of burning, rotting flesh filled his nostrils, and Todd’s stomach lurched. He stumbled, back hitting against a wall, as something hot splattered on his arm. Todd yelped again, glancing down where the black goo burned through the sleeve of his shirt.

“We should stop meeting like this.”

It was supposed to be a joke. Something to break Todd out of his terrified state. It didn’t really work. Todd looked up, eyes locking with the man’s standing in front of him. And then his stomach kicked, and Todd almost went down with it.

He knew this man.

He had been there the other night.

He remembered his name.

Neil.

Knarlie is either ;

Charlie : "Is it hot in here or is it just you?"

Knox : "YOU ARE ON FIRE! STOP FLIRTING, DUMBASS!"

Or

Knox : "I've discovered I love you."

Charlie : "And when did you discover that?

Knox : " When all of my decisions started revolving around you."

and there's no in-between

sneak peek;

Pitts fell back against the bed, a long exhale pushing out of his lungs. “You seriously need to get laid.”

Knox chose to not dignify that with an answer.

Pitts’ eyes flicked to his wristwatch. Ten more minutes until the portal zapped out of existence. Something kicked in his stomach. Pitts ignored it.

“Seriously,” he started again, craning his neck toward Knox. “I think we need to find you someone to drag you away from these books.”

Knox sighed, like Pitts was giving him a headache. “This is research, actually. And there’s nothing wrong with reading. In fact it’s a perfectly acceptable free-time activity.”

“I know what this is,” Pitts murmured. He noticed the moment Knox’s finger curled around the spine of the book. “You are still hang up on–”

“Do not finish that sentence.”

“- Chris.”

“Oh,” Knox blinked, his face heating up slightly. “No,” he muttered, gaze flicking back to the book in his lap. “No, I’m over that, actually.”

“Ah, so it is Blackthorn, then,” Pitts said, a smirk curling in his lips.

Great, Now the Apocalypse - Chapter 3 - moregeous_dumb_dumb - Dead Poets Society (1989) [Archive of Our Own]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63722188/chapters/164210812

Sneak peek;

“You seem to be in an awful mood today.”

Charlie didn’t look at him. “Mm, what gave it away?”

“Your general…” Carstairs gestured vaguely at him. “Vibe. It’s worse than usual.”

Charlie rolled his shoulders, stretching his neck. “Bite me, Carstairs.”

“Only if you ask nicely,” Carstairs shot back, not missing a beat.

Charlie’s coffee went down the wrong pipe. He coughed, fist thumping against his chest trying to save face.

It didn’t work; Carstairs was already smirking.

“You wish,” he chocked out, but even if his voice had been stronger, the comeback was still weak.

Carstairs tilted his head, studying him still. “That’s the best you got?”

Charlie clenched his jaw so hard his teeth ached.

He had two options.

Option one, he could punch him. No warning. Straight in the mouth. Carstairs was fast enough to probably dodge him, but Charlie could, maybe, launch the punch and that would be satisfactory. But it could all still work in Carstairs’ favor – and knowing his luck, Charlie assumed it would.

And that’s why he went with option number two. He pushed back from the table, hard enough for the chair to groan as it scraped the floor. He grabbed his tray, half-tempted to throw it at Carstairs’ stupid smug face, and turned on his heel.

“You enjoy the rest of your morning,” Charlie gritted out.

Carstairs simply sipped his coffee. "Planing on it.”

Charlie stalked out of the dining hall, seething.

He was going to kill him.

Not today. Maybe not even tomorrow.

But soon.

Knox Carstairs was so fucking dead.

Charlie Blackthorn was going to make sure of it.

I cannot believe my dashboard has made me anxious and geedy for the new 911 episode.. I DON'T WATCH THAT SHOW