#CO₂-neutral

[kreuzfahrttester]

Meyer Turku strebt nach CO₂-neutralem Schiffbau - Eine Dekade unter Meyer

In diesem Herbst feiert die Meyer Werft ihr zehnjähriges Jubiläum als Betreiber der traditionsreichen Meyer Turku Werft. Seitdem die Meyer-Familie das Unternehmen übernommen hat, hat die finnische Werft zahlreiche Höhen und Herausforderungen durchlebt. Doch trotz allem bleibt die Ausrichtung klar: Die Herstellung der modernsten Kreuzfahrtschiffe der Welt und die Werftprozesse selbst sollen…

[4th-make-quail]

Daniel Molloy -> Outfits through s2

[lovegrowsart]

"zk is an awful ship they'd be so horrible and toxic together" zutara is literally baby's first EtL ship who go from enemies to close friends in canon they're one of the most wholesome interations of the trope imaginable but also i want everyone to know i'd still ship it even if it was horrible and toxic <3 because they're 2d moving pixels and not fucking real <3

[spooksicl-e]

but first, watson, we smoke.

no, we don’t.

yes, we do.

we don’t.

we must.

[thebisexualdogdad]

RP rambles - Freckles (Dracule Mihawk x GN!reader)

Co-written with @inhumanshadows

*initiated because of this photo and my love for freckles on stomachs*

● ”what are you doing darling?” he asks as you kiss each one of his freckles across his abs

● And he goes quiet when you get to the ones closer to his v lines

● “Everything alright? You’re quiet… even for you,” you tease him

● "Yep just... enjoying the moment" but you can feel his bulge growing under your chin

● “I can feel that…” you smile kissing the ones on his v lines and start slowly undoing his pants"

● And when you pull his underwear down it slaps against your cheek 

● "You feel that love?" He grins proudly 

● "Yes and you're about to feel something even better" you say taking him in your hand and smiling devilishly at him 

[rawliverandgoronspice]

Hello!! I'm back for: more whining about TotK Quest Design Philosophy

I can't reblog a really great post I just saw for some reason (tumblrrrr *shakes my fist*), but hmmmm yeah not only do I completely agree, but I think I might expand on why I feel so much annoyance towards TotK's quest design philosophy at some point, because it does extend past the fundamentally broken setup of trying to punch a pseudo-mystery game on top of BotW's bones, where the core objective was always explicit and centered and stapled the entire world together; or the convoluted and inefficient way it tells its story through the Tears, the somehow single linear exploration-driven quest in the entire game.

Basically: I'm talking about the pointless back-and-forths. There were a lot of them, a lot that acted against the open world philosophy, and almost none of them ever recontextualized the environment through neither gameplay abilities nor worldbuilding nor character work.

I'll take two examples: the initial run to Hyrule Castle (before you get your paraglider), and then the billion back-and-forths in the Zora questline.

I think?? the goal of that initial quest to Hyrule Castle is to familiarize you with the landmark, introduce the notion that weapons rot, tell you about the gloom pits, and also tell you that Zelda sightings are a thing? But to force any of these ideas on you before giving you a paraglider is, in my opinion, pretty unnecessary. I think the reason it happens in that order is to prevent Link from simply pummeling down to the gloom pit under Hyrule Castle and fight Ganondorf immediately while still introducing ideas surrounding the location; but genuinely, the Zelda sighting makes the next events even more confusing? Why wouldn't you focus all your priorities in reaching the castle if you just saw her there? Why lose time investigating anything else? Genuinely: what is stopping you from getting your paraglider and immediately getting yourself back there, plunging into the depths to try and get to the literal bottom of this? (beyond player literacy assuming this is where the final boss would be, and so not to immediately spoil yourself --which, in an open world game, you should never be able to spoil yourself by engaging with the mechanics normally, and if you can that's a genuine failure of design)

I think, personally, that you should not have been pointed to go there at all. That anything it brings to the table, you could have learned more organically by investigating yourself, or by exploring in that direction on your own accord --or, maybe you think Zelda is up there in the castle, and then the region objectives become explicitely about helping you reaching that castle (maybe by building up troops to help you in a big assault, or through the Sages granting you abilities to move past level-design oriented hurdles in your way, etc). Either way: no need to actually make you walk the distance and back, because the tediousness doesn't teach you anything you haven't already learned about traversal in the (extremely long, btw, needlessly so I would say) tutorial area.

But to take another example, I'll nitpick at a very specific moment in the Zora Questline, that is honestly full of these back-and-forth paddings that recontextualize absolutely nothing and teach you nothing you didn't already know. The most egregious example, in my opinion, is the moment where you are trying to find the king, and you have to learn by listening in to the zora children who do not let you listening in.

So okay. I think Zelda is great when it does whimsy, and children doing children things guiding you is a staple of the series, and a great one at that. But here? It does not work for me on any level. Any tension that could arise from the situation flattens because nobody seems to care enough about their king disappearing in the middle of a major ecological crisis, except for children who are conveniently dumb enough not to graps the severity of the situation, but not stressed out enough that it could be construed as a way for them to cope about it and make anything feel more serious or pressing. It feels like a completely arbitrary blocker that isn't informed by the state of the world, doesn't do anything interesting gameplay-wise with this idea, doesn't build up the mood, and genuinely feels like busywork for its own sake.

This is especially tragic when the inherent concept of "the zora king has been wounded by what most zoras would believe to be Zelda and is hiding from his own people so the two factions do not go to war over it" has such tension and interest and spark that the game absolutely refuse to explore --instead having you collect carved stones who do not tell you anything new, splatter water in a floating island, thrud through mud who feel more like an inconvenience than a threat or, hey, listen to children playing about their missing king less than a couple of years after being freed from Calamity Ganon's menace. It feels like level designers/system designers having vague technical systems that are hard-coded in the game now, and we need to put them to use even if it's not that interesting, not that fun or not that compelling. It's the sort of attitude that a lot of western RPGs get eviscerated for; but here, for some reason, it's just a case of "gameplay before story", instead of, quite simply, a case of poorly thought-out gameplay.

Not every quest in the game is like this! I think the tone worked much better in the sidequests overall, that are self-contained and disconnected from the extremely messy main storyline, and so can tell a compelling little tale from start to finish without the budget to make you waddle in a puddle of nothing for hours at a time. It's the only place where you actually get character arcs that are allowed to feel anything that isn't a variation on "very determined" or "curious about the zonai/ruins", and where you get to feel life as it tries to blossom back into a new tomorrow for Hyrule.

But if I'm this harsh about the main storyline, it really is because I find it hard to accept that we do not criticize a structure that is at times so half-assed that you can almost taste employees' burnout seeping through the cracks --the lack of thematic ambition and self-reflection and ingeniosity outside of system design and, arguably at times, level design-- simply because it's Hyrule and we're happy to be there.

There's something in the industry that is called the "wow effect", which is their way to say "cool" without saying "cool". It's basically the money shots, but for games: it's what makes you go "ohhhh" when you play. And it's great! The ascension to the top of the Ark was one of them --breathtaking, just an absolute high point of systems working together to weave an epic tale. You plummeting from the skies to the absolute depths of hell is another one; most of the dungeons rely on that factor to keep your attention; the entire Zelda is a dragon storyline is nothing but "wow effect" (and yeah, the moment where you do remove the Master Sword did give me shivers, I'll admit to this willingly) and so is Ganondorf's presence and presentation in the game --he's here to be cool, non-specifically mean, hateable in a non-threatening way and to give us a good sexy time, do not think about it too hard. What bothers me is that TotK's world has basically nothing to offer but "wow effect"; that if you bother to dig at anything it presents you for more than a second, everything crumbles into incoherence --not only in story, but in mood, in themes, in identity. This is a wonderfully fun game with absolutely nothing to say, relying on the cultural osmosis and aura of excellency surrounding Zelda to pass itself off as meatier than it really is. This is what I say when I criticize it as self-referential to a fault; half of the story makes no sense if this is your first Zelda game, and what little of that world there is tends to be deeply unconcerned and uncurious about itself.

And no, Breath of the Wild wasn't like this. Breath of the Wild was deeply curious about itself; the entire game was built off curiosity and discovery, experimentation and challenge (and I say this while fully admitting I had more fun with the loop of TotK, which I found more forgiving overall). The traversal in Tears of the Kingdom is centered around: how do I skip those large expanses of land in the most efficient and fun way possible. How do I automate these fights. How do I find resources to automate both traversal and fights better. It's a game that asks questions (who are the zonais, who is Rauru and what is his deal, what is the Imprisoning War about, where is Zelda), and then kind of doesn't really care about the answers (yeah the zonais are like... guys, they did a cool kingdom, Rauru used to run it, the Imprisoning War is literally whatever all you have to care about is who to feel sad for and who to kill about it and you don't get a choice and certainly cannot feel any ambiguous feelings about any of that, and Zelda is a dragon but we will never expand on how it felt for her to make such a drastic and violent choice and also nobody cares that's a plot point you could *remove* from the game without changing the golden path at all).

I'm so aggravated by the argument "in Zelda, it's gameplay before story" because gameplay is story. That's the literal point of my work as a narrative designer: trying to breach the impossibly large gap between what the game designers want to do, and what the writers are thinking the game will be about (it's never the same game). And in TotK, the game systems are all about automation and fusion. It's about practicality and efficiency. It's also about disconnecting stuff from their original purpose as you optimize yourself out of danger, fear, or curiosity --except for the way you can become even more efficient. And sure, BotW was about this too; but you were rewarded because you had explored the world in the first place, experimented enough, put yourself in danger, went to find out the story of who you used to be and why you should care about Hyrule. I'm not here to argue BotW was a well-written game; I think it was pretty tropey at large to be honest, safe for a couple of moments of brilliance, but it had a coherent design vision that rewarded your curiosity while never getting in the way of the clarity of your objective. There is a convolutedness to TotK that, to me, reveals some extremely deep-seated issues with the direction the series is heading towards; one that, at its core, cares more about looking the part of a Zelda game than having any deeper conversation about what a Zelda game should be.

[frogmanfae]

Anthony Lockwood x GN! Reader- You Too? (FLUFF with a little bit of angst)

Summary: Anthony can't sleep at night. You can't sleep at night. Most of the time you avoid running into each other, but one fateful night of tears in the basement leads to an awkward bedroom experience.

A/n: this one is quite a bit longer than my other ones, about 4,000 words. I think it came out pretty well. Please don't make this dirty, I beg of you. It really is just awkwardness that happens to occur in a bed it isn't anything spicy.

Reader pov

There are nights where I can't bear to be in my room. I'm not sure why. Perhaps I need a break from such mundane consistency. I just need to see something other than those walls.

On these nights, I usually make myself some tea and go to the basement. I'd much rather sit in the library, but Lockwood is in there most nights. Nobody ever comes down to the basement. I'm alone with only my thoughts and my tea.

I don't quite understand why my room has this effect on me sometimes. When my parents died, my room was my safe haven. My refuge. My sanctuary. So now that I'm in a new environment, it makes little sense to me that it can feel more like solitary confinement. It makes even less sense that I'm soothed by the concrete and dust of the basement.

Tonight is one of those nights. It's probably three in the morning as I sit on the floor leaned against the wall, sipping my tea. I'm a listener, like Lucy (though not nearly as powerful) so a moment of silence is rare, but extremely calming. To use my power and hear nothing is bliss.

I've only about half way finished my tea when someone comes down the stairs, clearly laser focused on something. We're in the middle of a big case, so that's probably it. I had expected it to be George doing some late research or maybe Lucy to see if she can listen to any of the sources down here and get a lead.

To my surprise, it's the other one.

I watch silently as Lockwood pulls out several files and spreads them out on a table. He seems extra stiff, like something is really bothering him. He grumbles something in frustration before collecting the files and putting them back in the cabinet.

He walks over to my wall and sits down a couple feet away. From what I can tell, he hasn't noticed me.

I'm right here, isn't your talent supposed to be sight?

I simply continue sipping on my tea, remaining quiet and looking forward to not disturb him, though he really is an idiot if he doesn't know I'm here.

I thought for a moment that he actually did see me, but he needed space and realized I needed the same so he just didn't acknowledge it. I was certain on this until I heard him crying.

I look over at him. He's still wearing dress pants and his button up and tie. He's still got on his dress shoes. However, his hair was a mess and his hands were currently tangled in the back locks, only making it worse. His face was buried in his knees. I swear I heard a tear drop on to the floor. He was quietly sobbing, clearly trying to not alert anyone but still in pain. Emotional pain, anyhow.

I debate what I should do for a moment. I don't want to startle him, and honestly he seems like he needs this. I decide to just keep drinking my tea and not look at him. I'll let him get it all out before I make my presence known.

It lasts longer than I thought. Perhaps ten minutes? I'm not the best with comprehending passage of time but that seems right enough. Regardless of the details, it was a long time to sit here holding my breath and listening to his suffering.

Finally, he sniffs and wipes his eyes. I'm still looking straight ahead holding my cup, only seeing him out of my peripheral vision. He runs his hands back and forth over his hair a few times. I close my eyes.

"JESUS FUCKI-"

I snap my head towards Lockwood. He's now on his back with his legs closest to me, propped up on one arm and looking at me as if I'm a ghost. I can properly see his face now. His dark circles seem more prominent than usual and his eyes are red and puffy. His nose is red. His cheeks are discolored. He looks abnormally pale. His lashes have been thickened and darkened by his tears. It was truly a sight.

"HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN HERE?"

"I was here before you."

"AND YOU DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING? YOU SAW ALL OF THAT?"

"Shhh you'll wake up the others, we both know how lightly George sleeps while we're in the midst of a case. Anyhow, you seemed like you needed it. I didn't want to interrupt. It's not like I watched you."

"But... You saw it all. You heard everything!"

"Lockwood, I hope you realize I think no less of you."

"What?"

"I- oh gosh you can't be comfortable like that. Sit up, why don't you?" He hesitantly pushes himself up and leans against the wall again. "I'm worried about you."

"Theres no need to be-"

"Bullshit. You can't keep concealing your emotions like this. It's okay to be overwhelmed or stressed or overall upset for any reason. You always act like everything is wonderful but it's not. I don't know if it ever has been."

He looks down. "(Y/n)... It's not that easy-"

"I never said anything about it being easy. Of course it's hard. I can't even imagine how you feel owning an agency so young, having all that pressure on your shoulders. It's terrifying to be vulnerable."

"Is that why you're in the basement in the early hours of the morning, drinking herbal tea?"

I hum. "I just couldn't sleep, and I like herbal tea."

"Now who's bullshitting?" The corners of his mouth tug up in a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You much prefer green. Herbal simply calms you down. You only ever drink herbal tea when you're upset."

"How..."

"I notice things, (y/n). Lots of things. Don't think I don't hear the kettle during the midnight hours at least three times a week. The peculiar thing is I never hear anyone go back up the stairs and whenever I go into the kitchen, it's empty."

I look down. How'd he make this about me so quickly?

"Tell me, (y/n), do you spend your nights in the basement often?"

"... No. Only when I can't sleep."

"So... Often." He nods. "Why don't you stay in the library? It's much more inviting."

"I don't want to bother you. That's where you are most nights."

"You could never bother me."

"Stop, you were the one crying a few moments ago, this isn't about me."

He sighs. "It was worth a shot."

"Now, what's bothering you?"

"Uh... Nothing, really."

"Lockwood."

"It's just the case, that's all."

"That's a lie and we both know it."

He let's out a noise of exasperation. "Fine, you really want to know? It's my parents."

"Your parents?" I ask softly as I scoot closer to him.

He nods. "They died when I was six years old. You really have no idea what it's like to have such a great life until suddenly you don't and it all gets ripped away from you without warning and nobody will take you in so you have to fend for yourself before your age even reaches double digits."

"Actually... I think I can relate more than you realize."

"How can you possibly relate?" He almost sounds angry. I don't blame him, I never told him my story. I kept it to myself even after living with other people all this time. I moved here with a purpose, to start new. Therefore, my past never happened according to anyone else. I was another person then. I've left all of that behind, taking only the nightmares and memories with me.

"My parents were murdered when I was eight." I look straight ahead. "Nobody really wants to adopt a kid who's just began to really get strong in their talent for hearing brutal murders and death. It freaks adults out. So I was on my own until I found you guys."

His expression softens. "(Y/n), I'm so sorry, I... Wait, you were fourteen when you applied. That's six years."

"It was hard but I managed. The whole ghost hunting agent thing isn't so bad. Once you've been forced to watch your parents get nothing short of quartered right in front of your sensitive, innocent eyes, you can watch anyone else get ghost touched no big deal."

"I'm sorry, quartered?" His eyes are wide.

"Yeah, are you familiar with the French Revolution?"

"I'm familiar enough to hope you were talking about a different type of quartering."

I shook my head. "It was intense. I still think of it every time I close my eyes."

"I can't even imagine..."

"I didn't tell you this for you to feel sorry for me. I only wanted you to know I'll understand. You aren't as alone as you believe."

He nods slowly. "I see... Thank you... For sharing, I mean."

"Of course. So now that you know I can at least sort of understand what you're feeling, what's going on with you?"

He sighs. "I don't know... Sometimes I just..."

"Miss them?"

"... Yeah." He nods. "Yeah I miss them a lot. I miss them all the time but sometimes when I think about it it's not so bad, it's let me do what I've done, accomplish all of this. Other times..."

"It's mentally suffocating."

"Mentally suffocating... Yeah that's a good word for it. Like it's put a sheet over your brain to prevent it from getting oxygen, but you can still physically breathe with your lungs for the most part."

I nod. "Yeah, it's frightening. George has a book on it he was telling me about some time."

"George knows you feel like this sometimes?"

"No, but we often discuss our readings, trade books, recommend authors or titles... Things of the sort. I haven't told anyone about my past. Except you of course."

"Well aren't I special," he flashes one of his signature Lockwood smiles.

I roll my eyes. "Don't let it get to your head, your ego is already so inflated I fear it might burst."

"Oh haha you love my charisma."

"Is that what we're calling it?" I smile at him.

He laughs. Not his public press laugh, but a true, genuine laugh. One that I've never heard from him before. It makes me feel a little bit warmer with emotion.

"You know, most nights I stay awake in the library simply because I can't stand the solitude of my room."

"What?"

"I know, it's silly-"

"No, not at all! I come down here for the same reason!"

"You do?" He raises his eyebrows, sounding surprised. "I thought you just worried over cases or, well now I thought you thought about your past but-"

"No, it's like..." I think for a moment, trying to figure out how to put it into words. "Like the silence is too loud and the space is too big for just me, even though my bed hardly fits properly."

"Exactly! Like I don't have anything to focus on except for the sensory deprivation and my anxieties."

"Yes! Oh my goodness I can't believe you get it!"

"I thought I was the only one!" He laughs again, different this time. It sounds almost relieved. "Say... Maybe we could help each other out."

I raise an eyebrow. "Help each other out? How so?"

"Well, feel free to decline if you want and we'll never speak of this proposal again, but perhaps we could try spending the night in the same room."

"But..." I get that warm feeling again, more intense this time. "Each room only has one bed..."

"Yes well..." Despite the horrid lighting of the basement, I could faintly see a light pink tint spanning across his nose and blotching on other, seemingly random, spots on his face. "Like I said I understand if you decline and if that is your choice we can pretend I never said anything... However... I feel it may be beneficial to the both of us to have a... companion in the lonely, deafeningly silent hours of the night. If it works, splendid we can finally get some proper sleep. If it doesn't, we each return to our respective seperate rooms and carry on as if nothing ever happened."

"..." I nod slowly. "Okay."

"Ah- really?" He turns to face me more. "In all honesty I thought you would detest the idea."

"Do you still want-"

"Yes! I mean," he clears his throat, "uh... Yeah, the offer still stands."

"Perfect."

"Well then." He stands up and offers me his hand. "Shall we?"

"Oh you mean like right now! Alright then." I take his hand and he pulls me up. He chuckles and leads me to his room.

"I uh... I'll go take this cup back to the kitchen and let you get changed and what not."

"Oh- right." He pushes back some of his hair. "I'll only be a minute or two."

"Okay, I'll be waiting for whenever you're ready."

He smiles at me as he steps back into his room and closes the door. I swiftly make my way to the kitchen and set my cup in the sink, resolving to wash it in the morning, and return in under a minute.

I wait outside for only about thirty seconds longer before Lockwood opens the door again.

"Sorry I took so long."

"Long? Lockwood that was- wait."

"What? Is something the matter?" He takes his hand off of the door handle and peeks his head out around the corner.

"No, just... You're wearing a shirt."

"Oh, well..." He stepped aside, inviting me in, and closed the door behind me "Yes in fact I am. What about it?"

"Lockwood you've never worn a shirt to bed in all the time I've been here. It's like an unspoken principle in the house; you don't wear shirts to bed and George doesn't wear trousers."

"I didn't realize it was such a disruption of order-"

"Well- that's not what I'm saying." I sigh. I've always struggled with putting things into the right words. "Obviously it's fine if you wear a shirt to bed, I just... I'm just wondering why all of a sudden?"

"Well... I don't know. I suppose I thought you may be a bit uncomfortable sharing a bed with me when I've no shirt on." He looked down, those pink splotches returning to his face. "After all, this is only an arrangement of convenience and practicality. It's not like were... uh... going out... or anything..."

"Ah, right..." I can feel myself getting flustered. "Well... I don't mind, really. The whole point is to feel more comfortable going to sleep so if you feel more comfortable with no shirt on, honestly it doesn't make any difference to me."

"... Are you sure?"

"I'm sure, really." I smile reassuringly. "Whatever makes you fall asleep best."

He hesitates. "Well, if you're absolutely positive-"

"Lockwood, I promise you."

He hums lowly. "Alright then. But if you change your mind just tell me and I'll put it back on straight away, I swear-"

"Lockwood!"

"Alright, okay! If you're sure-"

"I'm sure."

He holds his hands up in mock surrender, a smile gracing his face. It isn't one of his signature smiles, it's real, quite boyish actually. He seems so young. Sometimes I forget how young we really are, but then again, all youth since The Problem has forgotten how young they really are.

I try my best to appear to be disinterested and looking away as he removes his shirt and folds it, neatly placing it in the bottom right drawer of his dresser. Of course, I watch the whole thing unfold. I'm only trying to appear as if I'm not.

"Alright, well..." He awkwardly rubs his arm. I've never seen him seem so nervous before. "I suppose now is when we uh... get into bed, then..."

"Yes it does seem like that happens now..." I slowly nod.

"Well uhm... After you." He gestures toward the bed.

"Oh no, please, it's your bed, you go ahead first." I wave my hands.

"No no I insist. You're my... guest? Is that the appropriate term for this? What do we call this?" He lets out a breathy chuckle. "Sorry, I'm a bit..."

"Nervous?"

"To say the least."

We both laugh a little bit. There really was no need for it to be so nerve wrecking. We had already agreed that if it doesn't go well we pretend nothing happened. Nobody needs to know.

"Here, why don't we just both get in at the same time?" I offer.

"Yes! Yes, that sounds like a good idea." He goes to the side of the bed opposite of me.

It's still extremely tense as the both of us climb in under the covers. There's plenty of space in between us. I'm nearly hanging off the edge, no doubt Lockwood is as well.

Fuck it.

I move onto the bed more so I'm a comfortable ways on. "Lockwood?"

"Yes?"

"Can I be frank for a moment?"

"Well I think I'd prefer you to stay (y/n) but I suppose whatever makes you happy-"

"Oh shut up." He laughs one of those real laughs again. I nearly melt.

"What would you like to talk about?"

I take a deep breath, admittedly, his joke (however stupid) managed to cut some of the tension. "This isn't going to work unless we get over ourselves and actually share the bed. Like real sharing."

He pauses. "You're right. The question is, how far are we going?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... Well..." He huffs. "If we're being frank-"

"I prefer Anthony, but I suppose-"

"Oh shut up, it really isn't funny." Despite his words, he was smiling again. "I see your point now."

"Well, what is it you were going to say, Frank?"

"Please don't." He laughs, making me smile more.

"I'm listening."

He inhales deeply. "Well, how far are we going as in... Are we simply laying next to one another and trying to go to sleep or... to be blunt, are we spooning?"

I nearly chocked on my own saliva. Blunt was certainly one way to say it.

"Well... Whatever makes you comfortable. Honestly I think it would work best if we... Uh... Did the latter, but I don't want to make you-"

"I was actually hoping you'd say that-"

He sighs, sounding almost... Relieved?"

"Really?"

"Yes, I-" he rolls over, bringing us from being over a foot apart to our noses now almost touching. "Goodness you are much closer than I thought-"

"Sorry, I-" I start to move back, but he puts his hand on my waist, gently stopping me.

"No no I uh... Well if we're going to uh... You know, uhm, we're going to have to be close anyway so..."

"Right, yeah..."

He softly pulls me closer using his hand that still rests on my waist. I move towards him until my hands are pressed to his chest and our legs are touching under the covers. His face is splotchy red again, the most intense I've ever seen it, though I can't imagine how flustered I must appear.

"Uhm... May I?" He starts to wrap his leg around mine.

"Ah..." I nod, unable to trust my voice.

And so now we lay here, about two seconds away from being puddles of awkwardness and mild embarrassment. He's warm. Very warm. It's kind of nice being this close to him.

I've always found him attractive since the moment I saw him. He is, objectively, a good looking guy.

Then I got to know him a little bit. He and I would often bicker and pester one another, some times seemingly more serious than others, but for the most part it was all in jest. Making jabs at each other is just what we do.

I think I fell for him more and more over my time here, but tonight I saw a new side of him. A side that really pushed me over the edge of having a bit of a crush on him to trying to stop myself from kissing him at any given moment.

"(Y/n)? Are you alright?" He brings a hand up to my forehead. "You're awful warm and you look... Distressed."

"Anthony?"

His gaze softened. I don't think anyone has called him that in... well who knows how long? Too long. "Yes? Is something the matter?"

"No I just..." I make eye contact with him, effectively rendering myself speechless.

He inches closer. "Are you sure? This is quite the... intimate position... I wouldn't want to make you..."

By this time, our noses are back to almost touching, but even closer than before. He tilts his head just enough to avoid colliding them.

"Make me what? Uncomfortable?" I glance down at his lips, quickly looking back to his eyes to avoid suspicion. "Anthony, you could never-"

He kisses me.

Holy shit.

Anthony Lockwood is kissing me.

I'm in Anthony Lockwood's bed.

I'm kissing Anthony Lockwood!

"I'm sorry-" he pulls back. "Oh no... I shouldn't have done that... Shit... Oh shit I'm so sorry-"

I kiss him again. "Shut up, will you? I just had a life altering moment here and I'm trying to enjoy it."

"You- you liked it?"

"Of course I did. Anthony, I've liked you since... Well I suppose there wasn't a single moment I could pick out but-"

"I love it when you call me that."

I smile. "Call you what? Anthony? Well that is your name."

"It hasn't been used in years. Not by itself, anyhow. It sounds nice coming from your lips."

"I like your lips." It takes a moment to register what I just said. "Wait, I didn't mean-"

"You like kissing me~" He teases me, putting on his Lockwood Smile.

"Oh shut up!" I put my head on his chest to hide my face. "Of course I do..."

"Well... You know what I would like more than just kissing you?" He carefully lifts my head up with two fingers under my chin.

"Hm?"

He hesitates for a moment. "I'd like to be your boyfriend."

"What? Really?"

"If you'll have me, that is-"

"Of course I'll have you, you prick!" I lightly punch his chest. "Do you know how long I've wanted to tell you that?"

He shakes his head. "I can't say I do."

"Well there wasn't a specific time but I think I started to think about it more and more around the time we were working the Brentic case."

"The B- (y/n) that was at least a year and a half ago."

"I'm well aware."

"... Huh."

"What?"

"I think I've known since the Dalkins case."

"Lockwood, that was long before the Brentic case-"

"It seems my charm worked then."

"Oh shut up! Go to sleep!"

He laughs a bit. "So... Are we...?"

"... I think we are..."

"Wonderful! Splendid! Perfect! Grand! Fanta-"

I laugh. "Anthony shut up!"

He goes quiet, but the smile remains on his face. "Do we tell the others?"

"... Nah. It's funnier if we just let them figure it out. But we don't necessarily have to hide it either."

He nods. "It'll take all my self control to not shout it from the rooftops."

"Oh hush." I roll my eyes, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach. "Get some sleep, lover boy. You clearly need it."

He kisses me once more, shorter this time, before closing his eyes and pulling me closer to his chest. He falls asleep surprisingly quickly, his breaths going even and his mouth falling slightly agape in no time at all.

I watch him for a moment. Once again, he really shows his age for only a second. I push some of his hair away from his face and place a kiss on his forehead, causing him to stir just a bit.

Before I know it, my eyelids feel heavy. It becomes increasingly harder to keep them open, to stay awake. Soon enough, I'm drifting into sleep with pleasant dreams to greet me and Lockwood by my side.

How lucky am I?

[teacup-captor]

John: *getting exploded*

John: :,) *sniff* just like my dad <3

John's dad, from heaven: I'm so proud of my boy. He grew up to be just like me

[arecaceae175]

For Want Of Rest: Ch. 6

FAN JOY JULY!

Fic Summary: Five times Sky falls asleep somewhere that isn’t a bed plus one time they all do. Or, Sky struggles to manage his disabilities, then the chain has a conversation about accessibility and accommodations.

Fan Joy July! Each chapter is inspired a few amazing art pieces of Sleepy Sky <3. There are plenty more chapters and art inspirations to come :D

Chapter Summary: They eep. They also have a conversation about accommodations. 2.5k, fluff and hurt/comfort.

Happy July 35th everybody :/ Here it is :D. THIS IS HEADCANON GALOOOOORE hehehe. I gave everyone a Thing. Also featuring they/them wind so she/her legend isn’t lonely

Art pieces (Look at the arts before you read, it will enhance the experience hehe):

Facedown on the floor by @raycatzdraws Rest by @alis-art-stuff

I am so in love with both of these arts. Raycatzdraws is so so SO funny. Every position is hilarious and also SO in character. And alis-art-stuff's piece is a perfect fluffy companion. Looking at this art feels like a warm hug. Everyone is so comfy and happy!

Warnings: detailed descriptions of chronic pain, references to past ableism (with direct ableist quotes), subsequent internalized ableism. They discuss medical issues in this one but they don’t have many of the correct terms or understanding of health conditions, so obligatory please do not take this as medical advice :)

The last bokoblin crumbled to dust at his feet. Sky stumbled to the side, caught in the momentum of the swing of his sword.

"That's the last of them," Warriors said.

"Good fight. Any injuries?” Time asked, just as he did after every battle. No one spoke up, so he nodded in approval. “We should find somewhere nearby to rest.”

Very, very slowly, Sky lowered himself to the ground. His knees, hips, and back popped painfully, so stiff he could barely move them. Sky didn't bother holding back a grimace. Sky pushed his legs out behind him, laid his arms by his side, and collapsed face first in the grass. His entire body throbbed. Sky tried to breathe evenly through the wave of pain.

"Uh, Sky?"

"Here. Rest," Sky mumbled into the dirt. Grass got in his mouth. Removing it seemed like an insurmountable task. It wasn't like it tasted that bad, anyway.

A pause. "Anyone catch that?"

Sky groaned loudly as he turned his head to the side just enough to free his mouth. "Rest. Here." 

Hyrule frowned, glancing around from the top of the hill they were on. The grassy fields continued for miles. "Isn't this a little exposed?"

"Rest here."

Four shrugged. "We did just clear the monsters."

"See? Rest now." Sky wouldn't have been able to get up if he tried. Everything hurt and he was so tired he might cry.

"I'm so on it," Wind said. "I'm so with you." They dropped to their knees—Sky flinched, knowing how his knees would feel if he did that—then sat back on their heels. Wind's arms flopped backwards as they curled forward and shoved their face in the ground. Their forehead touched the ground, leaving their mouth free for complaining. Sky respected the commitment.

"We have been walking and fighting and walking and fighting and running all week. No more," Wind said.

Sky grunted his agreement. The heroes within his line of sigh all looked at him with a wince, eyebrows drawn together and eyes wide with concern. Sky belatedly realized his sound might have been more pitiful than he intended it to be.

"Yeah, that about does it." Legend put her last item away in her bag then flopped onto the grass next to Sky.

"You mind?" Legend asked. Sky made a noise he hoped was significantly less disturbing than before. It must have worked, because Legend laid down with her head on Sky's backside. Sky made a noise of surprise.

"What?" Legend said. "It's soft."

Any reply Sky would have made was cut off by Warriors dramatic sigh as he collapsed on the ground. His legs were bent underneath his body and he haphazardly threw his arms over his face, resulting in his scarf billowing over his head and covering his face completely.

"This is fine," Warriors said, muffled by the scarf.

Twilight laid down next to him and collected the end of Warriors' scarf to use as a pillow. Wild draped himself over Twilight's legs and dragged Hyrule down with him. Hyrule yelped in surprise but relented quickly enough. He stuck one foot into Legend's side as he got comfortable. Four laid on the grass in the most awkward position physically possible. Sky's joints throbbed in pain just looking at it. Sky couldn't see Time from his angle, but going by the loud thump, Time was now also on the ground.

Sky hummed happily and put his face back in the dirt. There was a nice little indentation right where his nose was, so he wasn't even suffocating. How convenient, he thought.

Sky's muscles were still tense from the battle adrenaline. As hard as he tried, he couldn't quite drift off to sleep. His body ached, every joint and every muscle throbbing in time with his heart. The longer he laid on his stomach, the more the fire-like pain in his back spread. He knew he would regret laying like this later, but he really, really didn’t want to move. 

"This is boring," Wind said.

The heroes burst into laughter. Sky chuckled quietly, with as much energy as he could muster.

“Let’s find shapes in the clouds!” Wild suggested. 

“Ooh! Yes! Everyone play!” Wind cheered. 

Sky sighed and tried to will his body to relax. The level of effort he was putting would have been comical—he couldn’t force himself to relax, that defeated the purpose—if he wasn’t so utterly worn down. Everything hurt and he really, really wanted to be asleep. Sharp pressure stung behind his eyes. Sky flopped an arm over them and breathed deeply, desperately trying not to cry. 

The voices of the other heroes sounded like they were underwater. Or, maybe Sky was underwater and they were above. That made more sense, he thought. He certainly felt like he was underwater, drowning as he was pulled down by invisible forces. And how could he fight an enemy he couldn’t see?

A hand touched his boot. Sky flinched, eyes flying open with a gasp. Legend was sitting up beside him; Sky hadn’t noticed the change in pressure when she moved. Legend flashed him an apologetic smile. 

“The sailor wants you to look at the clouds,” Legend said. “You’ve got about ten seconds before they drag you over there themself. Just a warning.”

“Over where?” Sky asked. His neck ached from the strain of looking sideways at Legend. 

In response, Legend tilted her head over her shoulders. The other heroes were gathered in a circle, laying on their backs with their heads together. Legend carefully pushed herself to her feet and stretched her arms above her head. Beneath her braces, her joints popped. She shook them out then went to the circle. 

Instead of taking the closest open spot, she deliberately stepped on Warriors’ chest. Her step was light enough that it wouldn’t hurt, and more than enough for Warriors to yelp and swat her away. Legend laughed as she let herself be tackled onto the ground. 

Just as Legend predicted, it was no more than ten seconds before Wind was hopping up from the circle and bounding over to Sky. They knelt next to Sky’s head with a wide smile. “Sky, come look at clouds with us!” 

Sky forced a smile even as tears gathered in his eyes. As soon as they started, he couldn’t stop. Tears flowed down his face as Sky choked on a sob, burying his face in his arms in shame. 

“Sky?” Wind’s voice was panicked. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” 

Sky sniffled and shook his head, ignoring the pinpricks of pain throughout his neck and shoulders. “No, I— I’m— it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“What’s wrong?” Wind asked again. 

“I don- I don’t know,” Sky cried. “I’m just…”

Wind’s hand landed on his back and they started rubbing comforting circles. Another sob forced its way out of Sky’s chest. 

“You should turn over,” Twilight said. Sky sniffed and looked up in surprise. Twilight was right next to him. They all were, Sky realized; the others had moved their circle over to Sky and were all trying very hard not to stare at him in concern. 

“Your back always hurts when you lay like that,” Twilight continued. 

A fresh wave of emotion forced more tears out of Sky’s eyes. “You— how?”

Twilight smiled sadly at him. “I noticed. You never said anything about it, though, so…” Twilight shrugged. 

“Here,” Wind said, voice determined. “Can I help?” 

Sky nodded and wiped his nose miserably. Wind put one hand beneath his shoulder and the other beneath his hip.

“Ready? Set, go!” 

With Wind’s added momentum, Sky turned over on the first try with minimal difficulty. As soon as he landed on his back, the pain intensified and the sound of blood rushing filled his ears. Sky’s breath hitched, then he forced himself to calm down and breathe through the pain as his joints released their tension. 

“Are you having regrets?” Legend asked in a teasing tone. Sky knew that was how she showed her concern, and the words warmed his heart. 

“Mmhmm,” Sky mumbled in reply. His voice wavered far more than he expected. 

The sharp pain receded, and Sky finally was able to take a full breath. He let his arms flop on the grass above his head. Sky let himself breathe and relax. 

“Sky?” Twilight asked, voice uncharacteristically hesitant. 

Sky’s eyes felt like sandpaper under his eyelids as he dragged them open. 

“We wanted to talk to you about… this,” Twilight continued. 

Sky’s face burned with shame. His ears pinned themselves against his head. He glanced at the other heroes, all clearly staring, then shoved his eyes closed again. 

This was it. They were going to tell him he was being too slow and he needed to be better. He needed to try harder . Somewhere in the logical part of his mind, Sky knew he was being unfair to them, but a lifetime of being told to just suck it up and do better and being far, far too slow clouded his judgment.

“I’m sorry. I can do better,” Sky said. 

“What?” Legend interjected harshly. “What are you on about?”

Sky sniffled and wiped his eyes to keep his tears at bay. He drew in a shaky breath before he continued. “I know I’ve been slow lately, but I’ll do better. We don’t have to talk about it. I’m sorry.”

“No, Sky, that’s not what’s happening here,” Warriors said quickly. “We want to help.”

Sky’s thoughts stuttered to a halt. “You… what do you mean?”

“Back in your era, after you passed out, we talked to Zelda about it. We weren’t hiding this from you, but we haven’t had a chance to bring it up since.”

“...Oh. Um…”

Wind’s hand slipped into his and squeezed. Sky squeezed back, at a loss for words. 

“That was scary,” Wind said quietly. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Sky’s stomach flipped. “I’m sorry.”

Wind squeezed his hand again. “It’s not your fault! The only thing you should be sorry about is not telling us that could happen! How were we supposed to know you’d be okay?”

“Sailor,” Warriors admonished quietly. “Sky, there’s nothing wrong with needing extra help. We all do, sometimes. I… I may not have said it out loud before, but I have battlesickness. You know that, and I know any of you will help me calm down when I can’t remember where I am. Do you blame me for that?”

“Of course not!” Sky said. 

“You’ve helped me apply my scar gel before! And you always make tea when me or Twilight have cramps,” Wild said. 

“I have a blind side. I can’t see attacks,” Time said.

“My shoulder won’t grow right after a monster flung me around. I can’t move it all the way and it hurts, sometimes,” Wind said. 

“This isn’t like that,” Sky interrupted, clenching his free hand in frustration. “This isn’t from my adventure. It comes and goes with how bad it is, but I’ve always been this way.”

“You know my joints are terrible. That’s something you and I have in common,” Legend added. “The braces help, but I’m not always up for moving. You’ve never blamed me for that.”

“I’ve had migraines all my life,” Four said. “More after my adventures, just like you.”

“I have food allergies,” Hyrule said. “Those aren’t my fault and they’ve been here forever.”

“It… it doesn’t get better. I have to deal with this every day.” Sky’s voice had a hint of a whine to it, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Everything hurts all the time. I’m so tired. I can’t even stand up without my body collapsing. It’s— it’s really, really hard,” Sky finished in a small voice. 

Wind squeezed his hand. The group was silent for a moment, only the sounds of crickets jumping through the grass. 

“Zelda told us some things she and Groose do to help,” Warriors said. “I’d like to hear what you do day to day to manage it, if you’re comfortable sharing.”

Sky blinked up at the clouds through teary eyes. “I don’t… I don’t know.”

“I always watch food being prepared, that helps my anxiety. I don’t like my face or neck being touched. When I’m panicking, breathing exercises and asking me to describe my surroundings are what help,” Warriors offered. 

After a beat, enough time for Sky to speak up if he wanted, Legend continued. “I stretch every morning and night. I have pain relief tea if I need it. Movement helps the inflammation stay down, but too much running or jumping makes things worse.”

“Oh,” Sky realized. “That’s— my knees are the same. If they stay straight or bent for too long they get hard to move.”

“There, see? Stuff like that,” Warriors encouraged. “What else do you know?”

“Um. When I passed out, that was from standing too quickly. Well, the portal makes everything feel worse, and I don’t usually fully pass out. When I sit up or stand up I have to move really slow or I feel bad for a while. I lean or sit as often as I can. I sleep as much as I can, but I’m still tired all the time, no matter how much I rest. Is that— is that okay?”

“You’re doing great, Sky. That’s exactly what we mean,” Twilight said. 

“Zelda mentioned the exhaustion too,” Warriors said. “She said stamina fruit helps…”

The Links stayed on the hill, resting and talking for the rest of the day. Time tired of talking quickly, but he listened with a smile on his face. Wind, Wild, and Hyrule pointed out exciting clouds during lapses in the conversation. The other heroes offered things about themselves they had learned and things that helped them, too, so Sky wasn’t the only one. They made sure he didn’t feel like a burden, and they made sure he felt loved. 

For once, Sky was not the first to fall asleep. Time and Wild hadn’t responded in a while, and Legend hadn’t opened her eyes for her last three comments. Sky could feel the fatigue tugging on his eyelids as he struggled to keep up with the conversation. After his third yawn in as many sentences, Warriors reached over Wind and ruffled Sky’s hair. 

“Get some sleep,” Warriors said with a fond chuckle. “I’ll wake everyone up in time to make camp before dusk.”

“Okay,” Sky said around another yawn. He sighed contentedly and drifted off more easily than he had in weeks. He felt light, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The problems with his body may not be able to be solved, but Sky was confident they could be managed, especially with his family by his side. 

[saltwaterburns]

everyone adores you (at least i do)

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who makes possibly the best morning pancakes in London, just for you.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who is impossible to go to Tesco with, for he will slowly slip things into the trolley, going unnoticed by you until you reach the check-out.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who likes to sneak up behind you and wrap his arms around your middle, pressing his face to the crook of your neck, murmuring sweet nothings.

"You look so pretty, why're you in the kitchen? Tell Lucy or George to come downstairs and come be with me :("

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who had the hardest time letting his walls down for you, but when you held him as he cried, the little boy in him finally felt safe.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who never ever forgets to remind you how cherished you are by him.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who acts annoyed whenever you wear his coat, but the butterflies in his tummy say otherwise.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who acts all grown up and independent, often times rejecting your help, forgetting he is just a boy.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who gets excited whenever you ask about the artifacts cluttering the shelves of his home.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who hates pickles, yet still orders his cheeseburger WITH them, so he can give them to you.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who would rather sacrifice himself for you than think of a plan where everyone (including him) is safe.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who undoubtedly falls for you more and more every time he sees you bonding with Lucy or George.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who had to be convinced for MONTHS just so you could style his hair.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who was pleasantly surprised when you told him you preferred his dark eyes over any light ones.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who swears he hears wedding bells in his head when you start making him fresh orange juice every morning.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who comes into your room one evening and asks if you could put rainbow butterfly clips into his hair.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who pouts like a child when you usher him out of your room where you and Lucy are painting each others nails and gossiping.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who groans dramatically when you tell him all the experiments you've done with the skull along with George

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who is the master of rizz jokes.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who every year on your birthday gifts you a piece of jewellery his mother used to adore.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who is strangely good at making flower crowns.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who falls asleep by the tv, his head on your lap.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who insists you cuddle him inside his shirt.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who loves being the big spoon.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who always takes you out to fancy pancy restaurants.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who doesn't really want to let you out on missions, not because he thinks you can't handle it (because you can), but because he is terrified at the thought of you getting hurt.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who insists that you guys need a dog in this house.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who isn't very keen on nicknames, but loves it when you call him Anthony in the middle of the night.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who tastes like fresh mint and sweet peach whenever you kiss him.

[earthmoonz]

WIFEY. | EPISODE FIVE (5.7)

start / previous / next

(transcript below)

MAX): Rose, this is my…friend Lena. Lena, this is Rose.

(LENA): Nice to meet you.

(ROSE): You too I’m sure.

(HANNAH): I’m Hannah, Lena and I go way back. How do you both know each other?

(MAX/LENA): We met at a party/Through work.

(MAX): [Clearing their throat] We met at a work party. I manage the Old Salt Bar in the spice district? I’m friends with AJ so I met Lena with them. 

(HANNAH): Mmm. That’s that student bar right? Not really my vibe but it’s cute though! With all the little flags and that.

(MAX): Mmhm. Can’t see it being your vibe either.

(LENA): Have you two ordered yet? We’ve never been here so-

(ROSE): We have! Max got the mushroom pizza but I got the salmon risotto. We’ve never been to this restaurant specifically before but they have a sister branch in Windenburg that I go to all the time. I live over there but I’m staying with my aunt and uncle for the summer.

(HANNAH): Oh that’s where that accent’s from! I was tryna place it in my head.

(ROSE): Yeah! I’ve lived there since I was 10 but I went to one of those English speaking schools? So my accent can be hard to place for some people.

(HANNAH): You know I’ve always wanted to go to Windenburg, I’ve heard really good things about the clubs there. 

(ROSE): I’m actually not a massive nightclub person but the ones I’ve been to are really fun.

(LENA): Should we order now?

(HANNAH): Shit, yeah. I’m getting carried away!

[dootznbootz]

Diomedes appreciation ask :3

Ohoho >:3

Let me preface by saying that Diomedes to me is not like how most of the fandom view him

The Boy King who is basically like the TV Trope of "Small child with Propeller hat, lollipop, and tricycle" but instead of that, he's "Young babyfaced man" and replace all those items with a helmet, a spear, and the tricycle with a chariot :D AND THEN COVER HIM WITH BLOOD!

That's Diomedes to me. :3

As idk I kind of imagine him being around 20-21 while most of the other Achaean Kings are late 20s to mid/late-30s

He's young and incredibly experienced in war and that's basically where he feels the most comfortable. He is one of the youngest kings there, who VERY much looks up to his elders and respects them while also wanting to "be a proud king" as well. He's just a child soldier among these actual warlords. As, let's be real, Diomedes would probably suck at Diplomacy. Because he never really got to DO it. Even when he told off that messenger from Troy about how Paris was willing to give back the treasure he stole, that wasn't...very tactful. lol) I love that he has this almost "Notice me, Senpai" energy around the older guys lol

I love that he's basically the embodiment of Athena's "war" side. He follows orders very well (basically too well (Yes he mouths off and that time Zeus had to yell at him. I know. but he was in a battle frenzy)) He's very respectful of Athena despite already being favored by her. There's a lot to unpack for this poor guy with being a child soldier ;~;

AND I FUCKING ADORE HIM AND STHENELUS. THEY ARE SUCH FUCKING BROS. STHENELUS IS BASICALLY HIS LIL CHEERLEADER AND I LOVE IT. They're like a Traumatized bonded pair. Epigoni guys!!!

To me I always imagine him being short af because I really love the "Oh, he's so young and small! What's he gonna do?" only to get annihilated stuff. Smol rabid dog energy >:3

Also, bit of a headcanon but you know he thinks that Achilles was fucking pampered and spoiled xD "You think you're hot shit? Try being in wars since you could walk, Centaur boy >:( "

[zepp-l1n]

Pretty

Pairing: George Karim x Fem!reader (with sight), some subtle locklyle

summary: The 4 times (Y/N) called George pretty, and the one time he said she was. fic type - fluff, mutual pinning warning - reader calls George "pretty boy" word count - 3,053 a/n: I'm so upset Lockwood & CO isn't getting a second season :(

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#1. Morning Tea

The muffled noise of a tea kettle woke (Y/N) up from her sleep. The teenager drowsily looked around, taking in their surroundings. From her spot on the bed, (Y/N) noticed the low light coming through the window and into her room.

Lucy, who was sleeping across the room, hadn't seemed to be disturbed by the noise, and continued her peaceful rest. (Y/N) pushed herself up and leaned against her headboard. The tea kettle still hadn't stopped, and (Y/N) was quickly getting annoyed. "Ugh..." she sighed as she moved out from under their dark bedsheets. (Y/N) silently moved across the room, down the stairs, and outside of the attic.

As (Y/N) made her way to the kitchen the high pitched ringing stopped. This didn't make (Y/N) any less aggravated at being woken up early. When she had reached the kitchen she quietly opened the door, and stumbled inside.

George was sat at the kitchen table, cup of tea in hand. He glanced up, taking in (Y/N)'s sleepy form before asking, "What are you doing up?"

"The tea kettle woke me." she responded. (Y/N) couldn't help but smile at George's morning attire. He was in a long NASA t-shirt, and had his glasses low on his nose. As usual he wasn't wearing any trousers, which (Y/N) and the other Lockwood & Co members had strangely gotten used to. The thing that caught (Y/N)'s attention the most was George's hair; his curls looked fluffy and were all over the place, an unusual sight for such a put together boy. Although it was a new sight, it wasn't a unappreciated one.

"Oh. Sorry. I didn't think the sound would reach all the way up there." he softly muttered.

'It's fine - as long as you left me some water for my own tea." (Y/N) joked.

George smiled up at them. "It's by the stove. I also washed your mug, so it should be at the front of the drying rack." He then turned back to his tea, taking a long sip.

"You, George Karim, are a delight." (Y/N) made their way over to the drying rack, retrieved her mug, and placed it next to the half-full kettle. She then moved over to the pantry and fridge, grabbing her respective honey, sugar, and milk. She made her tea the same way she always did: place an English Breakfast tea bag in the cup, pour a bit of honey and a spoonful of sugar on top of the tea bag, and pour in the water. Once the tea bag had steeped long enough for their choosing, (Y/N) then added a bit more honey, and then poured in a splash of milk.

After making her tea, (Y/N) took the seat next to George. "So, what are you doing up this early?" she asked.

"Couldn't sleep. The case Lockwood asked me to look into, somethings off about it. I don't know what, but……" George had a tendency to trail off when he was speaking. Sometimes he thought he was still relaying information to his friends, but was simply sitting in silence.

(Y/N) took a long sip of her tea. "Did- uh, did you get any sleep at all?" she asked after swallowing. George didn't answer. "George…." she started.

"I know, I know." he responded sharply.

(Y/N) took one hand off of her cup, and placed it over George's. The concerned look on her face caused George to avert his gaze back to his tea. As he did (Y/N) got a clear sight of the early morning light gliding over his face. It was a nice scene. He looked....pretty.

"Look, I'm not gonna berate you with comments about your heath like a mother, but you do need sleep, Georgie." she sighed. "I don't wanna see my pretty boy get sick because he wont take his own health seriously."

George's head shot up, eyes wide. "Pretty boy?"

"Yeah, pretty boy." (Y/N) smiled. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've gotta go get dressed, and wake up the others." She stood up, mug in hand, and walked back towards the kitchen door, leaving George flushed and slack-jawed.

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#2. During A Mission

The members of Lockwood & Co were split up in groups of twos, and were rushing through a house. George and (Y/N) were attempting to find the source of the Type Two the team was trying to get rid of, while Lucy and Lockwood held it off.

"Georgie, what are we looking for, exactly?" (Y/N) whispered to the curly haired boy across the room.

"Something wedding related. Possibly a veil, garter belt, or piece of......wedding jewelry?" George whispered back.

The duo went quiet for a moment, continuing to search the room for anything that may be keeping the ghost of Christine, a young bride who was slaughtered in her home close to 14 years ago.

A loud bang rang through the floor tiles, followed by the angry and worried yells of Lockwood and Lucy. "Shit! For gods sake, hurry up guys!" Lucy's voice echoed from downstairs. George and (Y/N) glanced up at each other, both exchanging a worried look.

"We're trying Luce!" (Y/N) yelled back. "Shit. Okay. I'll take the left side of the room, you take the right." George frantically nodded and the two got to work.

They hurriedly made their ways around their respective portions of the room. The noises from downstairs got progressively louder, and then unexpectedly stopped. "(Y/N)? Are you not hearing, what I'm not hearing?" George asked.

(Y/N) nodded. "Oh god, you don't think...." she couldn't finish her sentence.

"No. No, I'm sure they're fine..." he mumbled.

(Y/N) stood up, her black boots scuffing against the floor as she did, and cautiously moved towards the door. "Lucy? Lockwood?" she yelled into the hallway. When she was a step away from the door, it unexpectedly slammed shut. "Holy shit!"

George jumped up, a quickly made his way over to her. His hands grasped onto the doorknob, frantically trying to pry the door open. "Guys! Lucy! Lockwood!" he yelled out. No response was heard.

As he focused on the door, (Y/N) looked around in a panic. At the other end of the room a figure started to appear. The young bride. "George...." (Y/N) patted his hand with her shoulder, still facing the ghost. He didn't answer her, and continued trying to open the door. (Y/N) stepped away from him, and gently pulled out her rapier. "George!" she yelped once again.

"What?" he turned around, expecting her to be behind him. Instead she was guarding him from the Type Two in the room. "Oh shit."

He moved to take out his rapier, but (Y/N) stopped him. "Wait. Go find the source. I'll hold her off." George nodded. He ran out from behind her, and made his way through the room and continued his attempt to find the source.

(Y/N) moved as he did, making sure to not leave open the space between him and the ghost. She did the regular rapier moves every agent was taught, and kept the ghost at bay. "Georgie, hurry it up." she exclaimed as the ghost moved closer to her.

"I'm trying!" Items flew behind him as he rummaged through the dust covered room.

Realizing that the rapier wasn't helping as much as she would like it to, (Y/N) reached into her jacket, and pulled out a salt bomb. She swiftly tossed it at the ghost, causing it to disappear as the salt bomb hit it.

"A wedding ring!" George gasped out. "That's what was missing in the police report, so it must be around here. That has to be the source."

"Good job, George. Now find it!" (Y/N) yelled back. She was so caught up in talking to him, that she didn't notice the ghost reappear behind her. Her body was pushed forward, into the nearest wall.

The crash pulled George's attention towards her. "(Y/N)!"

"Get the source!" she grunted out. "I'm fine!"

She leaned against the wall, and pulled out another salt bomb. As she threw it, she tried to ignore the ache in her left shoulder and head.

George had started going through the jewelry boxes on top of a nearby table, in an attempt to find the wedding ring. (Y/N)'s grunts and yelps caused George to speed up his search. At the back of his third jewelry box, he finally found a smaller box that was wrapped in a silk handkerchief. "I think I found it!"

"Then secure the fucking thing!" (Y/N) cried out. At this point, the ghost had hurt her a few more times. The ache in her shoulder was far more prominent, she had a cut leading from her temple to her cheekbone which was spirting blood rapidly, and her right knee had gave out around 5 times.

George unwrapped the box and opened it. Just as he had suspected, the wedding ring was inside. He gripped it with shaky fingers and ran back towards the door, where their kit was safely stored. He reached inside, found the silver chains, and wrapped the ring in them.

A relived gasp left (Y/N) as the ghost in front of her disappeared. George made his way over to her, and grabbed onto her outreached arms. "Are you okay?" George wiped some the blood on her face off using the edge of his sleeve.

"I'm fine. A bit sore, but that'll go away soon." she grinned. "Good job with the source, pretty boy." It was the first time she had referred to him with the nickname since the morning they had been up before Lucy and Lockwood. His face flushed just the same as it had then.

Lucy and Lockwood burst through the door, both visibly concerned for their friends. "What the bloody hell happened? Are you all okay?" Lucy yelled.

"We did your job." (Y/N) joked, using her good arm to lightly smack George, only to receive an embarrassed smirk back.

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#3. At The Archives

When taking a trip to the archives, George usually went by himself. It was almost like his form of a safe space. He liked the calm he found in studying and researching silently by himself. Today, however, (Y/N) had come with him.

The two sat across from each other at George's regular table. Both had a hearty stack of newspapers and journals to go through during the next few hours - each important to the upcoming job Lockwood had gotten them.

George had read almost half of his stack in the time that (Y/N) had gotten through the first third. This was due to a mixture of George's unnatural reading speed, and the fact that (Y/N) kept getting distracted by George. After every paragraph of information, (Y/N)'s gaze drifted up to the boy in front of her. He was in his element, and able to be his true self. The look on his face was once of content and happiness - something that (Y/N) would pay however much needed to see at all times. The only other time that (Y/N) got to see him this in his element was in the evenings when he would read by himself, unaware of her eyes on him.

"Why are you looking at me" George asked without removing his eyes from the newspaper in his hands.

"Is it a crime for me to take a break to look at the prettiest thing in the room?" she giggled.

George's eyes widened, and he couldn't help but look away from the information he was reading. "You.....I...." his gaze returned to the page.

(Y/N) grinned at his embarrassment. She loved being able to say one word and make his entire demeanor change. It was cute. He was cute. Before she got back into her paper, (Y/N) mumbled one last thing to the flustered boy. "It's true though. You are the prettiest thing in here."

As she continued reading she missed the small smile that crept onto George's face from behind his newspaper.

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#4. Cleaning 35 Portland Row

George woke up early on Sundays to clean. He had done this since he had moved into 35 Portland Row.

George had put on his gloves and apron, and was cleaning the floor under the table when (Y/N) entered the kitchen. She was already dressed, and ready for the day she had planned with Lucy. The two were going to get lunch at a nearby diner, and have a "girls day".

"Morning Georgie." she spoke as she passed the boy. He was on his knees for a better angle.

One arm was scrubbing the tiles, while the other waved at his housemate. "Morning."

(Y/N) opened up the bread box and got out the wheat bread. George assumed she was going to make herself some toast to hold herself off till lunch.

The friends sat in a calm silence while cleaning and waiting on the toaster to finish. "Are you just gonna clean today, or are you planning to do anything fun?" (Y/N) asked.

"Just cleaning, I guess." responded his tired voice.

A ding sounded from the toaster, and (Y/N)'s snack popped out. George heard the noise of a cabinet opening and closing, then the clanking of a plate hitting the thinking cloth. "Have fun with that. When you feel like having a break, there's a slice of toast and some jam out for you to snack on." she spoke from beside him.

George jolted slightly at her closeness as he hadn't realized she had moved down to him. "Thank you." he stuttered out.

"No problem." she grinned. "By the way, you should wear the whole cleaning get-up more often. Really brings out your inner 'pretty, housewife'." George once again jolted at her words. This time far higher than the last, resulting in his head lightly hit the edge of the table. "Oh shit, pretty boy, are you okay?" (Y/N)'s hands made their way to his head, caressing the space he had hit.

"I'm good!" George's voice came out dazed due to their closeness.

"You sure?" she concerningly continued to ask.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." His eyes didn't leave hers. Her hands didn't leave his face. They sat there for a minute, basking in their new proximity.

(Y/N) seemed to come back to her senses, and removed her hands. "If you say so." She stood back up, and patted the table. "Remember, you've, uh, you've got toast." Pink dusted her cheeks. "Lucy's probably waiting for me, so I should go."

(Y/N) smiled at the boy, grabbed her slice of toast from the plate, and left him, once again, in a stunned state in the kitchen.

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#5. Leaving For The Fittes Ball

Like the past few years, the members of Lockwood & Co had been invited to the annual Fittes Ball. Their invitations included a plus one, the date, place, and this years theme - Celestial. Both Lucy and (Y/N) had instantly loved the theme, finding it to be very cute and a spectacular idea. Lockwood was simply intrigued by the idea, and found how excited the girls were to be amazing.

George didn't share their excitement. The thought of fantastical attire and decorations didn't fit into his usual idea of "fun". "I don't know. You guys could just go without me, y'know?" he sighed from across the library. He was in a simple suit, with a borrowed pair of dress shoes Lockwood had gave him. The only celestial item was the small stars on the black shirt underneath his suit jacket.

"And leave me to talk to all the fancy, official people alone, while the girls party? Absolutely not." Lockwood groaned. "Look, you're going with us. Lucy and I are going together, which means you and (Y/N) are going together. Stop complaining." The head of the agency was in similar attire to his friend, but had a white shirt, and small, golden embroidered stars on the lapel of his jacket.

George threw his head back in exhaustion. "I'll just sit there the entire evening, bored. That won't change if (Y/N)'s there or not."

"If I'm where?" a voice startled the boys out of their conversation. In the doorframe of the library stood Lucy and (Y/N), both fully dressed, and ready to go.

Lucy was in a short and sparkly white dress, which reached her knees. A small series of gold constellations ran along the neckline of her dress, and stopped where the shoulders met the sleeves. Small sun earrings dangled from her ears, matching the sun necklace and bracelets she wore. The click of her small black heels echoed through the room as she walked towards Lockwood, taking his arm in hers. A smile grew on her pale, pink lips as she glanced over at her date and her George.

The entire time, George was focused on (Y/N). She was in a longer, black dress, that had silver stars intricately placed all over the bodice, and the waist. Her hair was half pinned back, reveling the moon and star ear set adorning her ears. Even while being dolled up, she still wore her usual black boots - something that seemed to fluster George even more. She wore a star necklace, which was similar to Lucy's, but instead of bracelets, she chose silver rings - three to four on each hand.

"Well, the cab should be outside soon, so I say we wait out there for a minuet. Get some fresh air." Lockwood commented. He and Lucy made their way out of the room, leaving George and (Y/N) to themselves.

"You tidy up well, Georgie." (Y/N) joked. She brought her hand up to his collar, straitening it slightly, before bringing her hand back down.

"Uh.. thank you." he awkwardly mumbled.

"C'mon, we better go outside with the others so we won't be late." she smiled up at him. (Y/N) reached for his arm, taking it just as Lucy had Lockwood's.

Without thinking, George spoke to the girl, almost inaudibly. "You look pretty."

"What was that?"

George straightened up, and turned his head away from (Y/N). "You...look pretty."

As he spoke, (Y/N)'s grin brightened. "Thanks, pretty boy." She pulled George forward, leading him towards the door. As the two exited their home, arm in arm, a aura of giddiness surrounded them - something Lucy and Lockwood noticed, but for their sake, didn't comment on.

[danrifics]

okay but how cute does charlotteissocoollike sound tho??

[hiyyihrts]

the fact that people will willfully ignore all of the queer related topics and struggles the young teenage characters of heartstopper talk about/touch on while being explained in a manner that people of all ages can understand in favor of obsessing over the ‘lack of sex’ in the show genuinely baffles me. Idk how you view this show and come away stark raving mad over a coming of age queer show for young adults.

[mo-ok]