#Donald lockwood

[justjudethoughts]

FRIENDS. HEAR ME OUT. LOCKWOOD FAMILY FANCASTS

So, I was watching @oceanspray5 's marvelous "Wait For It" Lockwood edit on YouTube, in which Kiera Knightly and Matthew Goode are fancasted as Celia and Donald.

Now, I have seen a few different Jessicas in the past, and they haven't meshed with me, but a recent thought that had some staying power is Natalia Dyer. She works pretty well, because she could feasibly be related to Lockwood but also has a face shape sorta similar to Ruby Stokes, so the whole "out of the corner of Lockwood's eye" thing works. And then I got emotional and edited the family together and well:

Lockwood is the spitting image of his father. Jessica gets her face shape and jawline from Celia. I just—

[sciroccoorion35]

Donald and Celia Lockwood

Stumbled on this taunt Marissa delivered to Lockwood and realized, perhaps for the first time, that Donald Lockwood was a tall, lanky nerd. That Sherlockian attention to detail and thorough planning? That’s Don. The beguiling smile and devil-may-care attitude? All Celia.

[themetaphorgirl]

some days I wanna raise a little something more than heaven

Written for Locklye Week 2024 Day #5: high school AU

AU. Lucy was desperate to get out of the trailer park and when she was offered a full ride art scholarship to a prestigious boarding school in Tennessee she couldn’t say no. She also couldn’t say no to Anthony Lockwood, a rich day student with a monogrammed backpack and the biggest puppy dog eyes she’s ever seen.

aka the southern prep school AU that nobody asked for.

A boy around her own age with dark curly hair and a St. Thaddeus School chess team shirt answered. He frowned at the sight of her. “You’re not DoorDash.”

“No, um…are you Anthony Lockwood?” she asked hesitantly.

The frown intensified. “Me? No.”

Lucy shifted her weight. “Is…is he here?” she said. “I’ve got his history book and I think he has mine.”

The boy heaved a long suffering sigh. “Yeah, that sounds like he would do. He’s here, come on in.”

She stepped carefully into the room. It was larger than her dorm and nicely decorated and organized- orange comforter, stacks of comic books, posters from superhero and sci-fi movies, framed family photos. Another boy lounged halfway off the bed, still in the St. Thaddeus uniform of khaki pants, white button down, and green tie, although his navy blazer was tossed over a chair. He didn’t look up from his phone as they walked in. “Is our food here?” he asked.

“No, Lockwood, I think you stole this girl’s book.”

The boy scrambled up, nearly dropping his phone, and Lucy gulped as his big dark eyes met hers. “Hi,” he said. He raked his dark hair back and it fell right back in place, flopping softly over his forehead. “I’m Anthony Lockwood.”

[the-biscuit-agreement]

Just curious, do you have like, any actor/actress in mind for Lockwoods family? His sister, his uncle, his dad and mum?

I didn’t but I have come up with some for your consideration.

The ages are a little out I am afraid. (Part of me thinks that the Lockwood parents would have been rather old and had Jessica and Anthony late in life but these actors are very old)

Jessica: Julia Brown/Grace Caroline Currey

Uncle Lockwood: Riley Smith (if we were going with younger brother which isn't all that realistic because of how he dies)/Jeremy Irons (for older brother)

Donald: James McAvoy (particularly with a beard. I am big on the idea of Donald having a beard)

Celia: Jennifer Goodwin

(Edit to add pictures)

[ocean-wave-blues]

sometimes i head canon the lockwoods as east asian, which is probably me projecting, but hey. it makes sense.

[earthtoeleanore]

i'm back with another head canon and i'm currently writing a fic on this one, I will post the first chapter soon!! obviously it's about Lockwood's parents because I can't get enough of them (I posted this on twitter earlier)

When Celia Lockwood was younger, late teens, she was an agent for quite a big company (Rotwell maybe?) but she was fired for rightfully starting an arguing with her supervisor during a case - you best believe Anthony J Lockwood was born and raised to hate the idea of supervisors! When she got home that night (to her little flat that she shares with Donald before moving into portland row) it was very late, almost early morning, she was tired and running purely on anger and left over adrenaline from the case. She completely collapses onto the bed. Donald who is sat doing research, waiting up for her, begins to ask her how her case went - but Celia doesn't want to talk about any of that so instead she puts on her best smile (Anthony Lockwood style) and decides to instead tell him she wants to travel the world with him and so the Lockwood research travels begin because Donald Lockwood would do anything for Celia and if she wants to travel, he would sell his soul for two tickets out of england! 👏🫠

[almostlikequake]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Lockwood & Co. (TV), Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Celia Lockwood/Donald Lockwood, Anthony Lockwood & Celia Lockwood & Donald Lockwood & Jessica Lockwood, Anthony Lockwood & Jessica Lockwood, Lucy Carlyle & George Cubbins | George Karim & Anthony Lockwood, Lucy Carlyle & Anthony Lockwood, George Cubbins | George Karim & Anthony Lockwood, Lucy Carlyle & George Cubbins | George Karim Characters: Anthony Lockwood, Celia Lockwood, Donald Lockwood, Jessica Lockwood, Lucy Carlyle, George Cubbins | George Karim Additional Tags: Character Study, Character Death, Canonical Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Past Character Death, Emotions, gravestones, graveyard, Flowers, Light Angst, Angst, Friendship, Family, Adulthood, Memories, Personal Growth, Feelings, Character Study About Gravestones And Lives Lived, Post-Canon, Canon - Lockwood & Co. (Book & TV Combination) Summary:

A character study about the graves of Lockwood's family, Lockwood himself, Lucy and George.

(It's tagged Major Character Death because this is written from the perspective of the far future of after the trio have died as adults and as the trio are major characters, this tag is used. Also not too much detail is given about Lockwood's family in this so non-book readers can read this and probably be fine.) @lockwoodandcoff

[thosesillylittlegayghosts]

Timeless is Donald and Celia Lockwoods song fight me

[plattypie-humano]

Is there anyone in the Lockwood and co fandom who thinks of the main character’s parents (and Barnes) as a marauders era?

Because I have! Then I started to give personalities to parents that haven’t even been explicitly stated exist (Kipps’). I started to overthink and created an elaborate web of how each one of them is connected. There are unexpected friendships, messy and tragic love triangles, and too many scenes that I’ve built up in my head so much that they might as well make a movie series from it.

This is my life now 😅

[arielleshaina]

New Ao3 fic! Portland Row remembers Celia and Donald Lockwood, and patterns repeat. Also, flowers tell a story. 🌻🌼

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48500479

[chaoticace22]

don’t worry guys i have eurovision covered in here

[themetaphorgirl]

our hands clasped so tight

Lockwood always understood the concept of undying devotion, but he never once dreamed he would be enough to deserve it. Maybe the press of Lucy’s lips against his is enough for him to finally believe it, or maybe dreaming about the family he lost can remind him he was always worthy in the first place.

Flo stopped dead in her tracks, looking from Lockwood to Lucy and back. “You’ve snogged,” she accused, pointing at him.  Lockwood’s mouth dropped open. “Wh- I don’t-“ “They’ve snogged!” Flo crowed. She clapped her hands. “About fucking time!” “We haven’t,” Lucy protested weakly.  Kipps rolled his eyes. “Don’t even try to lie, Carlyle, it’s written all over your faces,” he said.  Lockwood looked over at Lucy in panic; she was wide eyed and looked just as stunned as he felt. What were they supposed to do? Should they lie? Should they try to keep up some kind of pretense? Should they just tell them? George whirled around from the stove, still brandishing the wooden spoon. “I can’t keep it anymore, we saw you!” he blurted out, waving the spoon in excitement. “We saw you two!” “You saw?” Lockwood said.  “We?” said Lucy.  “We weren’t spying, we promise,” Holly said. “It’s just that we saw Lockwood leave, and then we saw Lucy running down the stairs and bolt after him, and it was just so unusual that we had to watch from the window, and, well-“ “And he kissed her!” Flo said. She grabbed Lockwood by the shoulders and gave him a little shake. “I knew this day would finally come! I knew you had it in you!” “Technically Lucy kissed me first, I think,” he said.  Lucy’s mouth dropped open. “Well, you certainly kissed me back!” she said. “ And you kissed me right after that.” “That’s fair, that’s fair,” he said. 

[earthtoeleanore]

In honour of the Lockwood & Co 3 month anniversary, here is chapter one of my Celia Lockwood fic 🫶🏻

[themetaphorgirl]

the Lockwood & Co tag on twitter today is about Arif, so I figured I would share a snippet from a fic I started a while back!

(I’ll post more things soon, including a Patron Saint chapter that’s in progress- it’s just that on top of everything else we just found out our landlord is selling our house and we have to move, which is…a lot! I’m big stressed! but I’m trying to write!)

———

The bell over the door jangled merrily as it opened and a light breeze ruffled the “grand opening” banner hanging overhead. “Hello, welcome!” he called from behind the register.

A little girl zipped ahead of her family and made a beeline for the candy display. “Ooh, Daddy, look!” she chirped, gazing at the jars of lollipops and taffy.

Her father held the door open as he ushered his wife inside. “Just a second, Jessa,” he laughed. “Wait for us to catch up.”

“Oh, it’s lovely in here,” the wife said. She had a blue and white striped baby sling crossed over her chest and she absently patted her baby’s back as she looked around. “Imagine, just a few months ago this was a taxidermist’s shop. This is…this is a drastic improvement.”

“Fewer things staring at you from the window,” her husband agreed.

He grinned. “Glad to hear it,” he said. He held out his hand. “I’m Arif, nice to meet you.”

“Donald Lockwood,” the young man said, shaking his hand firmly. He was in his thirties, tall and thin, and a pair of silver glasses perched on his nose. “This is my wife, Celia, and our daughter-”

The little girl ran over to them. “Hello!” she said, holding onto the edge of the counter and raising herself up on her tiptoes to be seen. “I’m Jessica Lockwood, I’m six years old, my favorite color is pink. What’s your favorite color?”

Arif blinked. “Um…green, I suppose,” he said. “That’s not a question I’m asked often.” He grinned. “But I could have guessed your favorite color.”

Jessica beamed at him. She was dressed in a pink romper and a pink floral shirt, with pink socks and a pink ribbon tied in her dark hair. “I’m awfully fond of pink,” she said. “My bicycle is pink, I rode my bicycle all the way here.”

“We live a few blocks over on Portland Row,” Donald explained. “It was a nice evening and we thought we’d take a walk before curfew.” He ran his hand lightly over Jessica’s hair. “Especially since this one has been so patient waiting for us to take her out on her bike.”

“We’ve been busy because we have a baby now!” Jessica said. She ran over to her mother, who was wandering around the shop looking at the shelves. “Mummy?”

“What, my darling?”

“I want to show Mr. Arif our baby!”

Celia Lockwood laughed and walked over to the counter. She was shorter than her husband but still rather tall and willowy; her long dark hair was tied in a loose braid down her back and her dark brown eyes were identical to her daughter’s. “Sorry, I got a bit distracted,” she said. She drew the edge of the wrap back. “Here he is, although I’m afraid he’s fast asleep right now.”

“That’s Ani,” Jessica informed him.

“It’s Anthony, actually, but we didn’t factor in a six year old’s inability to pronounce that name properly when we made that decision,” Donald said with a proud smile.

“Well, hello, Anthony,” Arif said to the sleeping baby. “How old is he?”

“Three months,” Celia said proudly. She ran her fingertips lightly over the soft dusting of dark hair on the baby’s head. “It’s been a bit of an adjustment getting used to having two children in the house, but Jessica’s been an angel.”

Arif crossed his arms and leaned on the counter. “Oh, so you’ve been a very good big sister?” he asked Jessica. She nodded solemnly. “Well, very good big sisters deserve treats.”

He went over to the bakery caseline and took out a vanilla cupcake topped in pink strawberry frosting. Jessica’s eyes went owlishly round. “Oh!” she said. “Thank you!”

Donald picked her up and set her on his hip so she could see better. “That looks like it was made for you,” he laughed. He kissed her cheek, then wrapped his arm around Celia’s waist. “Here, you pick out something too, dearest.”

“Ooh, there’s too many options,” Celia said. “Everything looks so good. Do you make everything yourself, Arif?”

“My wife and I do, yes,” he said. “We’ve been trying to open a shop of our own for years.”

“Well, I have a feeling we’ll be giving you a lot of business,” Celia said.

She ended up choosing a slab of shortbread glazed with caramel and Donald picked a slice of German chocolate cake, and Arif packaged everything up as neatly as he could. “Mummy, what about the baby?” Jessica said. “He needs something too.”

“Not yet, darling, he’s still too little,” Celia said. “He needs to be a bit older.”

Arif rang them up for the cake and the shortbread, but he stopped Donald’s arguments before he could get started. “The cupcake is on me,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it.”

Nevertheless Arif caught Donald dropping several bills into the tip jar on the counter before he picked up the box, much more than the cost of the cupcake, but even if he hadn’t it was worth it to hear Jessica chattering happily to her parents about how excited she was. Through the window he could see her clambering onto her little pink bicycle; her parents followed behind her hand-in-hand, Donald holding the bakery box and Celia patting her sleeping son’s back.

“Nice family,” Arif said aloud to himself as he cleaned imaginary crumbs off his brand new countertop. “Very nice family, hope I see them again soon.”