#George karim

[hollcwboy]

“they’ll be glad of the work, but this is phoenician” kinda the best line in the show

[paranormal-taters]

[maraschinomerry]

Sleepless Nights pt1

Pairings: George Karim x gn!reader

Summary: as if it wasn't enough to be woken up in the middle of the night, the events that occur are going to stop you going back to sleep

Content: canon-adjacent, canon-typical horror/fear elements, hurt/comfort, psychological implications

A/N: this is my first ever fic that I've written to intentionally be multiple parts so please be patient with me (and thank you to @neewtmas and @uku-lelevillain for encouraging me to do it this way)! I thought it'd be really interesting to explore the lasting implications of the events of the Annabel Ward case - none of the characters seem to get much sleep anyway, so I'm building on that. There should be 2 more parts of this to cover the home invasion and Combe Carey Hall (part 2 is like 75% written already 👀)

Word count: 2.7k

Taglist: @neewtmas @marinalor @ettadear @honey-with-tea @mischiefmanaged71

It had been a long night.

It started with the thundering of feet past your door in the middle of the night. You stirred, rolling over to glance blearily at your alarm clock, but even if you'd got your eyes to focus it was still too dark to make it out properly. What was Lucy playing at, running through the house at a time like this? You tried to go back to sleep, but the padding of more feet and a couple of dull thuds alerted you to the fact that there was something going on. Reluctantly, you flicked off your duvet, pulled on a pair of socks and a jumper and wandered to the door. On the landing below, Lucy was standing in Lockwood's bedroom, peering past the boy leaning on the doorframe. A pair of boots lay scattered in front of the other door, which you supposed explained the thuds, and as it creaked open George emerged in socks, an oversized T-shirt and an equally oversized scowl. You weren't the only one annoyed at being disturbed, then.

“Can't you even be bothered to cross the landing to wind me up?” Was that what this was about? You'd been dragged from peaceful sleep for a prank?

“Annabel Ward's ghost is here,” Lockwood replied quickly and quietly. Dread settled in the pit of your stomach. She was the ghost they'd dealt with at that Sheen Road house, and it had ended badly. But at least they’d secured her. How had she followed them home? Was that something ghosts could do? As George returned to his room to prepare, you stepped back into yours and grabbed a handful of salt bombs and your rapier.

Together you headed cautiously up to the attic. Part of you had expected to hear wailing, crashing, anything, not the silence of an empty room.

“I don't feel anything.” George confirmed your suspicions, hand on the door. If this really was an elaborate prank you were going to be so mad. He was prepared for the worst, though - chains, rapier, torch and two full body belts of salt bombs, flares, a whole stash. Lockwood had taken the chains, and now he took the lead. You hadn't been in here very often, you only joined the agency shortly before Lucy and the guys had kept mostly to themselves so you were still adjusting to the idea of your personal spaces being so open. It was a little unnerving seeing it now so dark and desolate, lit only by the sickly torchlight glow. A spread of articles about the dead starlet littered her floor, and as you scanned the room you spotted another on the wall by her bed. She must be more invested in this case than you'd realised. Below it were other photos of a young redhead girl, and you would have almost assumed they were of Annabel too were it not for the fact Lucy was in them. Oh.

“We contained her source, covered her body with a silver net,” you heard Lockwood say. You grimaced at the thought of finding an actual body. Ghosts were bad enough without having to contend with their corpse.

“How did she even get in here?” George continued, joining you in looking at the pictures on the way. “It's not as if her source is inside the house.” When there was no response, you all turned and looked at a slightly sheepish Lucy.

“Is it?” Lockwood pressed. Before she could respond, there was a whispering from the entrance to the room, and she raised her torch just in time to catch curling wisps of other-light before they disappeared into nothing.

“Uh… she's back.”

You and George moved away from the wall, closer to the main group. Instinctively, you drifted towards Lucy, figuring she would be your best bet against the ghost she'd already survived twice. George hung back, and as you all swept your beams across the room to catch where she might appear next, he missed the glow manifesting over his shoulder.

“George…” Lockwood began, low and warning. “Don't… move.”

A face was forming now from the glow, long hair falling as it appeared. George stayed remarkably calm. “Please tell me it's a wasp.”

“Stand perfectly still.” Lockwood tensed the chain. Whether Annabel noticed or whether she was always going to react this way, her face began to contort. “On second thoughts, move!”

George dove towards the empty space in front of the door as Annabel lunged forwards with a snarl. Lockwood swung the chain; Lucy switched her torch to her other hand and hurled a salt bomb; you brandished your rapier. The ghost vanished in a burst of sparks, but you knew that wasn't the end.

“Not a wasp, then,” George huffed.

You needed to find the source to put an end to this, and you all knew it. Lockwood pushed Lucy for an explanation, but before she could offer one the ghost appeared from nowhere, Lucy almost running into her as she turned. She stumbled back, landing between the boys as you surged forward and threw two of your salt bombs. The chain slashed through her and she dissipated once more. You all formed a circle, back to back, spinning slowly. George was on your right, Lockwood your left, and Lucy on their other side.

“I had her ring in my hand, and then I fell asleep with it,” she finally explained. The bed came into view as you turned, and you began to move towards it before Lockwood reached out and stopped you.

“Let’s get rid of this thing properly, then we can go searching.”

Those fine silvery tendrils began to unfurl down the far side of the bed and the group broke into formation with Lockwood at the head.

“Oh, shit.” George's voice shook, reflecting your thoughts exactly. On Lockwood's word, they swapped weapons, so now you and the taller boy had the rapiers and the other two held the chain across behind you.

“Be ready to move,” Lockwood told you quietly. You nodded.

Annabel was fully formed and furious. You heard the warning shouted as she lunged again and you all reacted at once. Lockwood twisted as he jumped towards the bed while you rolled towards the window, your rapier clattering from your grip, and Lucy and George surged forward with the chain which sliced the ghost in half. She reformed quickly, quicker than you expected. You were a sitting duck, squatting behind the armchair and with nowhere to go but back towards the wardrobe and the spirit in front of it.

“Y/n, go!” Lucy yelled as she hurled more salt bombs. Annabel flickered, just long enough for you to escape your hiding place. George ushered you behind him, into the safety of the eaves, giving you a second to catch your breath. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder to check you were okay and you nodded gratefully, hands on your knees.

“George, throw it all, everything you've got!” Lockwood said forcefully. The other boy reacted immediately, flinging his body belts in one fluid motion, and you tried to ignore the glimpse of bare skin as his T-shirt rode up with them. He almost crashed into you as everyone ducked back from the explosion of the screaming ghost, his hands grasping at your jumper and yours at his arms to stop you both from toppling. Lucy had landed on the bed and Lockwood down the other side. His face popped up, halfway between a smile and a grimace as he held aloft a silver ring with green gems.

If you'd had your way, you'd have gone back to bed and tried to forget the whole thing. It was still very early in the morning after all, the sky outside a rich blue dotted with stars. Instead you all ended up in the kitchen, listening to Lucy explain why she'd thought it was a good idea to take Annabel's ring, which was now in a silver-glass case. Something about a psychic connection, she said.

“I literally cannot believe you stole a source from a crime scene,” George shook his head in bewilderment. He'd swapped his boots for a pair of grey sweatpants and was leaning against the edge of the sink. You sat on the worktop on his right, watching the argument unfold.

“Excuse me,” Lucy countered. “I'm not the only one around here who steals sources. What about that ridiculous skull you're always experimenting on?” She had a point, and it added a whole new layer of worry to the events of the night. How many other sources did your team have hidden around the house? How many other visitors were waiting to attack in your sleep?

“What exactly are you planning on doing with this psychic connection?” you asked instead.

Lucy looked to you, relieved to have someone care about her reasoning. “Solve her case. Get justice for those 40 years she spent boarded up in some wall.”

“She's dead, Lucy.” Trust Lockwood to state the obvious. “We need to destroy her source. Let her go.”

The girl at the other end of the dining table looked so defeated that you felt sorry for her before remembering she'd basically invited an angry ghost into your home.

“Come on George, back me up,” she pleaded as she moved forward. He tried to deny it, but you knew from the moment she suggested trying to communicate with Annabel that it was an opportunity he wouldn't be able to resist. When he joined her, Lockwood looked at you.

“What do you think, y/n?”

You weren't exactly sold, but you could tell Lucy would never find peace until she tried and you trusted the boy beside her to keep things as safe as he could. Besides, there was no way you'd be able to get to sleep knowing your friends were downstairs putting themselves at risk. “Fine, let's try it,” you sighed, hopping down from the counter and standing at Lucy's other side.

The first rays of daylight were creeping into the study, the site of this experiment, by the time you were all set. You wondered whether you were likely to get any sleep at all tonight as you squeezed into the alcove behind Lockwood and George. The curtains were drawn, leaving the room dimly lit by only a lamp in the corner and the picture light on the wall. It would have felt cosy if not for the sense of foreboding that had settled over you. Ever the researcher, George had a small notebook and pen to record any useful information or unusual activity (though you hoped there wasn't any). A hush fell over the group as Lockwood placed the ring in Lucy’s palm. Silver shards spread from within it like ice, and she closed her fingers around the cool metal.

“It's okay, Annabel,” she murmured, eyes closed. “It's safe.” You admired her confidence. If you were given the choice to be half-possessed by a ghost who had tried to kill you less than an hour ago, you'd be encasing the source in so much silver-glass you could barely see through it. Your fears were confirmed when, as the session continued, Lucy rose to her feet and moved towards Lockwood. You all tensed. Lucy's eyes suddenly opened, but she wasn't really looking at any of you. That foreboding feeling tugged at the core of you, deep in your chest.

“Something isn't right,” you whispered through your teeth. George glanced at you, but said nothing.

“He's angry. Jealous.” Lucy's expression twitched as though fighting the wave of emotions she was being subjected to. “She's afraid. Again.” Her hand came up to Lockwood's cheek and he took her by the wrist; she pulled away, then stroked him again, then away once more. “It's alright. He loves me. You love me don't you?” Something was definitely wrong. She shouldn't be switching perspectives like that. Things were going too deep. The boy in front of you could sense it too.

“We need to stop this, now,” he said darkly over his shoulder, not breaking his focus on Lucy.

“Let's just see what happens.” George was writing something. You knew he was invested in seeing this through, but at the expense of your friend's safety seemed a step too far.

“George…” you began, and he turned a questioning gaze to you. Lucy let out a gasp, and you both snapped your attention back to the matter at hand. She was choking on nothing, clawing at her own throat. Reliving Annabel's final moments.

“Lucy, stop it. Annabel!” Lockwood was gripping her now, trying to bring her back to herself. You were frozen in horror. George thought for a moment before he barged past and flung open the curtains.

Everything happened in slow motion and too quickly. The room was flooded with light, the glare of the early morning sun temporarily blinding you so you almost missed the chair flying through the air. Lockwood was quicker, spinning his body to shield Lucy as they landed on an armchair. You had less chance to react. As you dropped to the ground, the rush of the chair passing above you ruffled your hair. It collided with the bookcase, one of its legs snapping clean off and another breaking as it hit a table and rolled from there onto your back and across the floor. It was hard to tell whether the scream that followed came from you or Annabel or both as the room exploded into a shower of impossibly bright sparks, bursting and scattering in succession. Your arms were wrapped over your head, legs tucked under in a crouch, and you curled yourself in even closer as the flakes of light fell around you, illuminating patches of the carpet. You felt something on one of your hands and flinched, but the warmth was not from a spark but skin. Fingers wrapped around your palm and more across your shoulders, pulling you from the alcove and against the security of a trembling yet firm chest. Your breath came in gasps, shaking even more than the person holding you.

“Are you hurt?” George asked quietly from above. You hummed a vague response - nothing was bleeding or broken as far as you could tell if that's what he meant, but your back ached from the impact of the chair and you were too shaken to speak. He stepped back slightly, holding you steady as he moved around you. You twisted to follow his gaze, ignoring the pain in your spine as you did so, and noticed that Lockwood had led Lucy from the room to recover. George's breath hitched, and you soon saw why. The back of your jumper was dotted with tiny scorch marks, nowhere near deep enough to have done you any harm but enough to leave the fabric irreparable.

“Shit,” he whispered, paling.

“It's fine,” you groaned, sinking into the nearest armchair. “It's an old jumper anyway, it's not the end of the world.”

“It's not the jumper I'm worried about.”

It was so rare to see him the way he was looking at you, so tender and full of concern, that it made all the remaining fight leave your body. You wanted to say something, to tell him that it wasn't his fault. Lucy had been in immediate danger, you'd have done the same thing if you hadn't been so scared, it was just the way things worked out that she had both boys protecting her and you only had yourself. Still, he'd come for you the second he could, so how could you blame him? But exhaustion overtook you, and you suspected that if you tried to voice any of those thoughts you'd only end up feeling worse, so instead what you said was: “Come on, it's been a long night. I'm going to try and get a couple of hours’ rest before we start again.” George nodded and wordlessly helped you to your feet and up the stairs.

“Sleep well,” he said softly as he left you at your bedroom door.

You didn't.

[hayarahs-dungeon]

Sooo, here's my contribution for the Lockwood merch ideas!!!

I had this idea for a while now, but this design can be used for two main things!

• The first one: using it for posters or prints

• The second one: using it as a dtf print for anything actually! (Mostly t-shirts and hoodies)

I let y'all w/ the poster/print idea and the mockup for t-shirts

[minnaeatsbread]

literally the only thing that bothers me about the casting of ali hadji-heshmati. i would not trade him for the life of me but they had the chance to do some actually positive representation here.

Listen, I know that portraying nerds as chubby, socially awkward and with bad eyesight is problematic. Except for my boy George. You can pry him from my cold, dead hands.

[jc-writes-bullshit]

Has anyone done these yet

[eudociacovert]

"I've almost got it!"

[lewkwoodnco]

Lockwood & Co. incorrect quotes (3/?) LOCKWOOD & CO. (2023)

[lucyjcarlyle]

[juneneedsabreak]

[hollcwboy]

george at every pre-job meeting

[jarsjam]

maybe 'The Problem' is the fact that Netflix cancelled the show

[strangeasf]

Lucy: You don’t want Lockwood to die

Lucy: And I don’t want Lockwood to die

Lucy: Now we just gotta make sure Lockwood doesn’t want Lockwood to die

George: Fantastic plan but have you met Lockwood

[barve-oceanaa]

close up so you can actually see them properly

Part 2 of 5 yippee I'm actually being consistent. How long until I get bored 💀

[justjudethoughts]

Lockwood and Co + textposts