#and it means so much to me that Lockwood doesn't

[krash-and-co]

I love Lockwood he's so silly he got neurodivergent swag (hc but I may as well think it's canon, see tags lol)

also yeah kipps <3 he's the worst <333

and skull gets EVEN BETTER TRUST ME

George thing so real, it sucks :((( Lucy's hella mean sometimes and it's part of her but it def doesn't make it ok. that being his joke uncalled for and too common

thoughts on phasmaphobia Lockwood and co. book one:

things i liked:

Lockwood, the character. big fan of his type of character

Quill Kipps IS a loser its great

worldbuilding and story arebvery good methinks

ghosts

the Skull

things i disliked:

mild sexism

how George is treated is too “haha this guys fat and likes to eat things lets make fun of that” for me

mystery doesn’t really provide hints so the reader can solve it, but i guess thats not really the point

[siena-sevenwits]

Disclaimer: These thoughts are more emotionally than logically expressed, and reflect my own experience and preference.

[bithablu]

Interview With An Agent

Vampires can suck it; agents are superior

First things first: no one will ever convince me that the props department and writers of Complete Fiction aren't HUGE Lockwood and Co fans. Someone ( edit for credit: .@cate-deriana ) already mentioned the blip moment in this chapter of a kid playing with agent toys being shown on the show but there's more.

THEY MADE SURE THE HANDKERCHIEF WAS GREEN AND WHITE SPOTTED! BOOK NERDS! ALL OF 'EM (and I love it)!

I absolutely adore how much information is jam packed into this chapter without it feeling like an info dump. I mean, yeah, we get some of the basics spelled out for us but His Geniusness, Jonathan Stroud, also did a LOT of the showing without telling.

Lucy's temperament may have been directly mentioned ("feisty") but it's also shown in a few different ways. Thanks to her narration on the general dilapidation of the house and her description of George, we realize that she has a judgemental focus on appearance. She's impatient ("see myself out" after a long silence), scared (stomach clenched, shifting slightly in her chair, heart juddering), and resigned to enduring life instead of enjoying it.

Although, I still think it's funny that she's so impatient with the living but she always has time for the dead. Lucy's excess of talent makes it seem like she finds it easier to deal with the other side than the land of the living.

We get a fantastic introduction to George's personality. Blunt, rude, also impatient, sassy, focused on facts and practicalities rather than niceties. BUT! He accepts Lucy before Lockwood allows himself to (more about that in a second). While Locky is working through his thoughts, George pipes up with "Tell her about the biscuit rule". He likes rules that make sense to him but has little patience for societal norms. This sets up the whole him getting fired from Fittes scenario perfectly.

Lastly (but never least...ly), Lockwood is more than willing to tell rather than just show but he's like jazz music; sometimes it's more about the things that he doesn't say. He rushes past talking about Robin, doesn't answer about where Skull comes from, and gives only the bare bones info about the company. Thing is, he's clearly not stupid. It's subtle but understood that he KNOWS there's a problem with Lucy. Anyone with her level of talent would be happily scooped up by another agency ("Of course you've got the job") but she's ended up at 35 Portland Row. I think that's what the priestly toilet thoughts are about- he's running through the risk assessment and trying to figure out what baggage she brings. He was also probably contemplating if Lucy and George could work/live together but George solved that one.

All in all, I thought it was a wonderful way to formally introduce the characters and their dynamic.

[justjudethoughts]

Shortly after reading Lockwood and Co, I sent my best friend a series of texts chaotically explaining why it was so important to me. Please enjoy the following brain rot:

"Because it's about a girl who doesn't have much of a family (she has a lot of sisters, but they don't really care about her and she has a horrible mother). She hears voices in her head and has emotions she doesn't know how to control. Half the time, she's the worst version of herself. But these two boys find her, and they take her in. They very quickly realize how talented she is, but because she is so talented they know how vulnerable she is and they promise themselves to never let anything happen to her. But it's not just about safety on the job: it's about her being loved. This girl who was never loved right. Not by her parents, not by her sisters, not by her employers. And suddenly, she has a family she didn't even mean to create, one she's scared to trust. But Lockwood and George are constantly saying "I love you". By making her toast without her asking, and by checking in on her, and by making her feel seen. By a thousand tiny little domestic gestures of familiarity. There are so many times where it honestly would have made sense for them to let her go. She's wildly irresponsible. She breaks the rules. She's a liability. But they never, ever let her go. Because, more than they need her, she needs them. It's not about her talent. It's about her. It's about how Lucy Carlyle is broken and lost and two golden retriever boys pull her out of the gutter and convince her that she matters and means something.

And it's about a boy who is reckless and crazy, but oh so soft and steady with his loved ones. Who has grown up with ghosts. Who lost his parents before he was really old enough to remember them, but his whole house is covered in what they owned. And then he loses his sister, and he keeps her room the way it was, and can barely stand to go in there and sees her in Lucy. And he visits their graves because he doesn't want to be left out. And there is a tremendous, aching hole in his chest where they are supposed to be, but he lets that make him kind. Sure, it makes him a little more reckless. Sure, he needs therapy. But he loves fiercely, despite being scared to do it. People matter to him. Saving people matters to him. Being the person his loved ones need matters to him.

And then there's George. He's goofy and socially awkward. He's the third wheel, the one who is convinced he's unnecessary. But Lucy and Lockwood would die before leaving him. Because they DO need him.

And these three, extremely broken children who have lost something in one way or another come together and have breakfast at midnight in the kitchen. And make tea, and doodle on their table cloth, and take turns washing the dishes, and give one another a home."

[gffa]

One of the biggest hurdles with the Lockwood and Co. books is that they're set entirely from Lucy Carlyle's point of view and there is a whole lot of body shaming that really set my teeth on edge when I first read it. Some of it is still just awful, but I've come around on that I can read a lot of it as Lucy's unexamined issues from childhood rearing their heads in some nasty ways.

Her relationships with all the characters around her are contentious and full of conflict even just in her thoughts, she's so nasty to George, to Holly, to the Skull, to Kipps, to Barnes, etc. It most especially comes out with Holly (and Kat Godwin before her, then Flo Bones as well) and it's very easy to read Lucy as reacting badly to her own attraction to women, her envy of them and her inability to let herself be attracted to them, because she's closed off so tightly.

But it's also her relationship with the Skull, who she constantly argues with and says she hates, she has nothing but poison for it in her thoughts, but as soon as it goes missing, she's desperate to get it back.

It's also in her relationship with George, who she constantly nettles and thinks mean thoughts about, but it's obvious that she cares about him deeply and has grown to love him as a friend, even if she can't necessarily admit that to herself.

Her entire dynamic with Holly is centered around how feminine Holly is, how pretty she is, how Lucy just cannot stop thinking about how Holly dresses, how she does her hair, how soft her skin looks, how her little hand motions are so delicate and proper. And, yeah, some of it is envy and feeling insecure, that other people will like Holly more than her, but it's also just so much attention on all the little details that it comes off as unrealized physical attraction.

And then suddenly, I'm looking at all of the relationships Lucy has with people, where almost all the people she likes and respects are ones she's nasty to. Which clicked into place for me when she went back to visit her home town and was miserable there, the poor relationship she had with her family suddenly making so much sense in the way she rejects people before they can reject her, that she's so terrified of being vulnerable that she schools her thoughts and actions and words into prickly meanness so that she doesn't get hurt when they don't want her.

Lockwood is the exception to this, because he's the one who took all her nastiness and kept being mostly kind to her, he allowed a certain amount of vulnerability to himself and Lucy slowly started to come around on him and thought nicer of him. Sure, part of it is that she has feelings for him and so her thoughts are kinder, but I think it goes hand in hand with the way Lockwood is the one that never really sniped back at her or egged her on in any way, he started to feel safe to her, he started to feel secure to her.

And then she breaks his trust! She sneaks into the locked room to find out about his history, in a moment of anger and frustration, she breaks the thing that he asked them not to poke into, and she knows he would have every right to be angry enough at her to kick her out! But he's nice to her about it! He says, no, it was time to tell you guys about it anyway. He's open and vulnerable about something that she desperately feared rejection over!

Which is of course why her feelings reach a certain point and she has to acknowledge them, she can't deny them anymore, so the slightest push (the ghost wearing Lockwood's face, saying that she would do this to him, get him killed) has her running off from the agency and going independent, because she's terrified that she'll get Lockwood killed/terrified of actually stepping across that line into having feelings that could really hurt her if she's not accepted.

She's complicated and messy and I love her, she's a great character with a great, dynamic arc--but it does require reading into some of the more problematic elements of the character and taking a more generous view of them, even when I know much of the real answer is that the author probably didn't see the problem with the way he would have her describe characters (especially anyone that was overweight) and you have to find the mental line you're willing to walk with that. But if you're okay with wincing through some of the earliest stuff, I think there's a really cool Hot Mess Lady character waiting on the other side.

[locklyle1kanij]

I’m gonna make a list of my fav Lockwood and co fics in the hope that someone will see this list then reblog it and say “wow good choices! You should really check out this fic!”

(PLEASE I NEED FICS) (Warning these are basically all mainly Locklyle fics just letting you know)

(okay obviously we need Policy 8 on this list!)

“Policy 8” written by by: The_Biscuit_Agreement

Ongoing

Plot Summary :

Policy 8 was established in the hope of encouraging the birth of increasingly powerful agents. All agents 18 and over must accept the marriages DEPRAC assigns them. Agents between the ages of 16-18 can volunteer to enter the programme or else be forced into it due to minor illegal behaviour.
Lucy Carlyle volunteered. Anthony Lockwood was forced. In an effort to protect the two teenagers from being turned into pawns in the games of the rich and powerful, Barnes ensures Lucy and Lockwood are married. But just because they aren't stuck as pawns, doesn't mean the teenagers aren't forced into the same dangerous games.

“As London Burns” written by: ScienceFantasy93

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

An AU About locklyle in the middle of world war two with Lockwood fighting as a RAF pilot and with Lucy as a news reporter. (very angsty) (idk what else to say about it tbh… BUT I LOVE THIS FIC!)

“The bones of our past written” by: moon2pluto

Finished (but has a sequel that’s ongoing)

Plot Summary:

Just a few months after the destruction of the bone mirror, the team of Lockwood & Co. has another big case to tackle:
When Lucy gets a letter from her little sister, begging her to come back and help her with a haunting doomed to kill them, she doesn't need long to make a decision, and neither George nor Lockwood are going to let her face this alone. To not get any unwanted attention in her hometown, Lucy and Lockwood agree to take a closer look disguised as a couple while George is busy researching. But when the haunting turns out to run much deeper and wilder than any of them thought, and other players enter the game, one question arises: Will Lockwood & Co. also make it out of this case unscathed?

(This one’s my all time favourite)

“The hidden archive” written by: BrooklynBooks

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

Ghost possession doesn't happen often, but fatality rates are high. Even if an agent does survive, there are the aftereffects to worry about. After surviving a possession, Lucy Carlyle struggles with recovery, delving ever deeper into the memories of Visitors and, in the process, stumbling into the world of blackmarket Sources. Meanwhile, George Karim races to learn the truth behind ghost possession in order to protect Lucy and save future agents. And Anthony Lockwood must face his own past with the London underworld if he wants to save his friends and himself.

“Connections” written by: The_Biscuit_Agreement (I’m sorry i’m so obsessed with their fics lol)

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

Lockwood forms a psychic link with a dead young agent and the group try to use it to work out how the agent died with disastrous consequences.

“Crushed” written by: itripandfallalot, Salvoirfaire

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

A bad case and broken leg leave Lucy no choice but to return to Portland Row until she recovers. Lockwood is definitely not using this as an opportunity to persuade her to come back for good, because that would be unfair. And he never plays dirty.

“Because everything is the same until, very suddenly, it isn’t” written by: Netflixcapricorn

Finished

Plot Summary:

What happens when the only way out of this mess is a fake marriage?

(Here’s a warning, extremely angsty)

“Lucy takes the long way home” written by: agents_cxrter

Finished

Plot Summary:

Lucy might have left Lockwood and Co, but she can't get Lockwood out of her system.

(So many annoying emotions in this one like WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME!!?!)

“This is going to end badly” written by: The_Biscuit_Agreement

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

When Fittes Agent Lucy Carlyle is cornered by relic-men alone in the woods, she is rescued by an unlikely source: Anthony Lockwood, run-away and relic-man. When Fittes gets tasked with trying to track the young man down, Lucy finds herself in an interesting position.

“Perfectly Incandescently Happy” written by: OceanSpray5

Finished

Plot Summary:

After the death of her best friend, Ms Lucy Carlyle is given the opportunity to be sponsored for the 1815 London season by Norrie's aunt. Instantly compared to the Diamond due to their astonishingly similar looks, she befriends Lord Lockwood quite unexpectedly yet is left wondering if she was a fool for believing he'd look twice at a mere country girl.

(This fic is literally the cutest thing to exist… if you exclude the angst lollll)

“No One Cares About The Nightwatch” Written by: Nomolosk

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

Lucy Carlyle is a Listener, a failed agent, a runaway, and now works the nightwatch in London. One might think her life a failure from start to last- but Lucy has goals. She will get a grade four certificate, and reapply to all the best agencies, and her life will get immeasurably better.

However, firsthand experience of the treatment most people give the nightwatch, and a chance encounter with Lockwood and Co. have her reevaluating those goals... maybe she can do some good before she moves on...

“The Injury of Finally Knowing You” written by: booknerds_unite

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

Anthony Lockwood, the only surviving male monarch from the Lockwood line, has six months to find a wife or Parliament will make a case to keep him from the throne. Lucy Carlyle has just arrived at the palace to work as a maid and to escape her horrific mother. They were never supposed to meet.
On the night of Lockwood's birthday celebration, their paths cross and nothing will ever be the same.

“What lies between the lines” written by: The_Biscuit_Agreement

Ongoing

Plot Summary

When she arrived in London, Lucy Carlyle took up a job at the British Archives, spending her days determining which love letters, suicide notes and other collected paperwork could one day produce a visitor. It's a taxing job, made easier by king archivists and the presence of young agents doing research nearby. As Lucy becomes close with some of these young agents, she starts to receive love letters herself and finds herself using her under-utilised talents to try to work out who might be behind the notes.

(at this point just go through all of The_Biscuit_Agreement fics tbh… There all perfection)

(okay i’ve read a ton more really good Lockwood and Co fics but i feel lazy now so maybe i’ll post a part two of fic recs later)

[bella-rose29]

Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - Part 2

To make this work (I'm sorry) the reader has a very large family, and they will have names (I genuinely cannot be asked to try and figure that out and make it entirely... non OC)

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: swearing, lockwood and children so beware your hearts, lockwood gets hugged and can't deal with it, the family members are mean, reader doesn't eat much, lockwood is still a bit of an arse and so is the reader (but hers is more justified), proofread maybe once

series master list

So far, it had absolutely been a shitshow.

Lockwood had remained silent for the next hour and a half of the train journey, and with not much else to do but plan every tiny detail of their fake relationship Y/n thought she might be going mad.

Luckily they already knew a lot about each other, so they could get away with not going over basic details about the other's life, but Y/n hadn't talked much about her family to anyone other than George in rants after phone calls with them, so if they thought that she was talking shit about them behind their backs (which she was, but they didn't need to know that) then they would descend like vultures.

She was disrupted from her thoughts when Lockwood stood up from the table seats they'd managed to get, his leg kicking at hers as he manoeuvred into the aisle, not sparing a second glance at Y/n. She frowned, about to call after him and ask where he was going, but when he disappeared out the doors and into the next carriage she decided that she didn't really care, and at least he wasn't brooding in her field of vision.

Y/n had barely been on her own for a minute when a family of five came into the carriage (they must have got on at the station they had recently stopped at), and with her being the only one sat on a table on her own and all the others taken, they made for her. She swallowed, for once wishing Lockwood was here to make her look less selfish, and sat up a little straighter in her seat.

"Excuse me, but would you mind moving? We've got three kids and need somewhere for us all to sit, and since there's only one of you..." The man trailed off, looking at Y/n pointedly, and while initially she had wanted to hold her ground she could feel herself shrinking under his gaze.

Where the fuck is Lockwood?!

He could talk his way out of this, she was sure. It was one of the few things she begrudgingly accepted was brilliant about him. It's not like Y/n didn't need the table; Lockwood's huge bag was sat on it and taking up most of the space, and her own backpack was on the seat next to her, but suddenly her breath was coming too quickly and her throat was closing up, and the man in front of her looked a little too similar to that one uncle-

"Is everything alright?" Lockwood's voice broke through the silence, and Y/n was annoyed to find herself reaching for him.

"Yeah, we just need this table, but this girl isn't moving."

"Sorry, my girlfriend's pretty tired at the moment, what with agents being in high demand right now. How about if we share? I think she needs a nap, poor thing, and we've got rather a lot of luggage between the two of us. I'll move over her side, shall I? Then you can take the other- yes, hello, little one." One of the couples' children had been tugging on Lockwood's hand, and Y/n could see the man's posture relax the more Lockwood talked, watching as her fake-boyfriend picked up the small child with ease and planted him on the train seat. The other two followed quickly, glad to not be on their feet any longer, and Lockwood came to sit next to Y/n, pulling his bag closer to them on the table and shoving her backpack onto the floor between everyone's legs. "See, you three all fit there perfectly don't you! You're only small," Lockwood was saying to the children, not yet noticing Y/n's shaky state. Their parents seemed to be content with the arrangement, taking their own seats across the aisle where they could watch their kids, and through the slight haze covering her eyes Y/n could see them visibly relax.

Once everybody was settled, Lockwood shuffled around in his seat trying to get comfortable, and when his elbow accidentally jabbed into Y/n's side he frowned at her.

"You alright?" he whispered, not wanting to draw the attention of their new companions. She took a moment to reply, not quite registering that Lockwood had actually said anything.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine."

"Right... just- you didn't say anything when I elbowed you just then and I'm worried you might be having a stroke."

"I'm not having a stroke, you idiot," she said, glare appearing on her face. She had some much better names for him, but with three children under the age of ten in front of her, she figured she should stick to the more family-friendly ones. Lockwood smiled, bright and wide and far too blinding.

"That's better." Apparently he had forgotten about the mishap on the platform earlier, and his previous ignorance of her presence, because after that he launched into a whole spiel of what their plan would be.

"Actually," she interrupted, not caring that he looked annoyed, "I've had a lot of time to figure this out. I just need you to confirm or come up with something better on a few things and we should be fine."

"Alright then, what's your grand plan?"

"Well we already know most of the basic stuff about each other, what with living together for nearly three years, so that solves that problem. One thing I did think of was family, since neither of us have actually..." she trailed off, unsure where the two of them stood on that subject given what had happened earlier. Lockwood was only nodding, his brow furrowed.

"Come to think of it, you've never really mentioned your family much," he said.

Y/n shrugged. "I just don't... you know... I just don't..." she flailed her hands around in front of her for a few moments, trying to come up with the right words.

"I don't know," Lockwood replied coolly, "Should I?"

"I just thought I'd tell you about who's gonna be there today, which is my mum and dad, my four brothers, my sister, my Aunt Linda, and her daughter Stephanie. Oh, and my grandparents on my mother's side, but they'll probably be in bed by the time we get there."

"That's... a lot of people."

"Yeah. There'll be more for the party tomorrow, and then the day after will be the same group from today again, and we're leaving that day anyway."

"Okay... what about names?"

"My mum is called Emma, my dad is Ben, my brothers are Sam, John, William, and Tom from oldest to youngest, and then my sister is called Olivia. My Grandma is Jean and my Gramps is Richard."

"Right." Lockwood paused for a moment, reciting the names under his breath. "Anything else I should know?"

"Aunt Linda and Steph are gonna be the worst, since they always try and make life miserable for me. They're ridiculously rich and like making fun of my job- oh, yeah, barely anybody supports my life choices or my job as an agent, so just prepare for that. Uh, where was I? Oh yeah, Steph and Linda will try and find out anything that could be used against us, so I really hope you can act because otherwise they'll figure this whole thing out in seconds."

"Wait-"

"And my brother Will is the most supportive, 'cause he knows that there are options for work after my Talent fades and I'm not going to be out on the streets-"

"Y/n-"

"-and he, John and Sam all play rugby so try not to piss them off because they're twice your size and will snap you like a twig-"

"Y/n!"

"What?!"

"You need to slow down! Go back to the part about your family not supporting your job?"

"Oh, there's not much to it, really." She felt awkward now, his gaze far too sharp for her liking. If he knew the full extent of how much she didn't like her family, he would waste no time in using it to make fun of her and take the upper hand while he could, and she would be left to sink further into herself until she disappeared. "They just don't think I'll have many options, so they want me to think about my next steps."

"Okay..." Lockwood trailed off, getting distracted by something the children were talking about and being asked his opinion on starfish. He looked as though he was about to start conversing with her again, but the train pulled into the platform they needed, and Lockwood was all business getting the luggage out safely.

~~~

"Are you alright?"

Y/n jumped a little in the back of the taxi, not expecting Lockwood's voice so close to her ear. "Yeah, I'm fine, why?"

"You're very bouncy. If you're fine then could you not? You're jolting me."

Why had she thought he was trying to be nice? She should have known better by now that he wouldn't ever be that way with her, but it still stung.

Truthfully, she was on the verge of tears.

She wouldn't ever tell Lockwood that, of course, because how could he understand? He seemed to walk into any situation effortlessly, with endless optimism and charm that made life easy for him. Y/n was stuck panicking about seeing her family again, because if she couldn't even stand up to some random strangers on the train, how was she ever going to stand up to her family? No, she would just have to do her best to hide everything from Lockwood, to reduce the amount of blackmail material he would have against her.

~~~

The taxi pulled up outside the large cottage-style house, and Lockwood let out a low whistle.

"L/n, you never said your family was this fancy."

"They aren't. It was my Grandma's house, then she got dodgy knees and never moved out, and we moved in after selling up our old place to look after her and Gramps. We're about as fancy as your family, Lockwood, in that we too have multiple mortgages on this building to keep it."

"Anthony."

"What?" Y/n frowned, not sure what he was talking about.

"If we're going to pretend that we're dating, you probably shouldn't be calling me by my last name."

"Oh." She hadn't thought about that. The only reason she even knew his first name was because it was in large print on the sign outside the house, since it was generally accepted that he went by Lockwood and that was that.

"Or you could use some sort of nickname. I've got a few for you if you'd like to hear them." The grin on his face made Y/n think that she really didn't want to hear them, but he opened his mouth again anyway. "How about Sugarplum?" Y/n got out the car, slamming the door shut on him a little more harshly than she needed to. "Snookums? I think you look like a Snookums." The taxi driver was giving the two of them strange looks as he unloaded their bags, but Y/n ignored Lockwo- Anthony (she would have to get used to that) and handed over the money for the drive. "What about Sun Beam? Actually, you're too grumpy for that one. Oh, I know! My personal favourite," he paused for some sort of dramatic effect, being left behind on the driveway as Y/n stomped towards the front door. "Schmoopie."

Y/n stopped suddenly, turning to look back at her fake boyfriend with an incredulous look on her face. "Schmoopie?" He looked far too proud of himself as he picked up his bag and caught up with her, and she resisted the urge to hit him.

"Don't you like it, Schmoopie?"

"Call me that again and I'll be chucking your Source in the furnaces within the week." Lockwood (Anthony - she really needed to start calling him Anthony or she'd be saying 'Lockwood' to her family) Can't you just use my name? Or, you know, a more generic pet name?"

"Fine. You're very boring, I hope you know that."

"Sure. Just swear to me you'll never call me 'Schmoopie' again." She said the word with disgust, scrunching her nose up and fighting the urge to gag.

"Whatever you want, darling." That wasn't much better, but at least it was normal. Y/n raised her hand to knock, but before she could the door was being flung open, revealing a woman in a very festive jumper.

"You're here! She's here!"

~~~

Lockwood stood back slightly as the woman wrapped her arms around Y/n, squeezing so tightly he feared for his colleague's spine.

He braced himself for a similar treatment when she pulled back and spotted him, and the next thing he knew he was close to being suffocated as she brought him into a hug. Lockwood held his breath, his eyes wide and arms stuck out to the side as he tried to figure out what the hell he was meant to be doing. He hadn't been hugged like this since, well, since Jess. It took him a few seconds to work out that he needed to reciprocate the hug, but once he had, god. Why was he choking up? He could feel Y/n's eyes on him, so he shut his own and basked in the feeling of actually being held.

"You must be the boyfriend!" the woman said, pulling back and holding him by the forearms.

"Mum! Please don't terrify him!"

So this was Emma L/n, Y/n's mother.

"Yes, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs L/n." He flashed one of his winning smiles, and he could see her visibly relaxing.

"Oh Emma, please!" She looked back over her shoulder at Y/n, mouthing (incredibly non-subtly) 'He's handsome!'

"Mum!" Y/n hissed, starting to turn red.

"What's your name then young man!"

"Anthony Lockwood," he replied, and took particular pleasure in seeing Y/n squirm in the background.

"Well, you'd better come in. Do you need help with the bags?"

"Oh, no, I've got them," he assured her, shouldering his large bag and reaching for the suitcase handle that Y/n was currently holding onto. She didn't relent for a moment, and they had a silent argument for control of the suitcase until eventually with a small tug he won, stumbling ever so slightly from the effort.

"Everything alright?" Emma asked, frowning at the two of them.

"Yes, perfectly fine!" Lockwood called back, shooting a glare at Y/n. She reciprocated, clenching her jaw at his smug smile that came afterwards. He moved inside the house, Y/n following shortly behind and closing the door to keep the warmth in.

"Where should we put our bags?" Y/n asked her mother.

~~~

They had a problem.

A very large problem.

"Well I'm not sharing with you," Lockwood said, moving further into the room that Y/n's mother had shown them to.

"Good," she said, eyeing the double bed. "Just don't complain when your back gives in from sleeping on the floor for so long."

"What? No, I'm taking the bed."

"It's my family home, what gives you more reason to have the bed than me?"

"I'm your boss, and I pay your wages. If you want to keep being paid then I'm having the bed."

Y/n scoffed, shaking her head. "Arsehole," she muttered, going over to the windows and closing the curtains against the now-dark sky outside. The bed was definitely large enough for two people to share, but when those two people hated each others' guts and weren't actually dating, the bed was far too small.

"What was that?"

"Arsehole," she repeated loudly, making sure to look him dead in the eyes when she did so, then immediately turning and heading into the en-suite bathroom.

"What is your issue with me?" he said, following after her.

"You're taking the bed! It's my fucking house!"

"Let's not forget that without me, you would be in a lot more of a tricky situation! I think I deserve the bed for my efforts; it's not easy pretending to love you, you know!"

"Oh, like it's so easy to love you?! You are so horrible to me, all the time, and now I have to pretend to actually want to be with you?! I'd have been in a difficult situation anyway, the only difference is that in this one, I have a fake boyfriend. I could deal with the humiliation of not having anyone with me, but this?" she laughed bitterly. "This is near to being beyond me, Lockwood." Fuck, why was she tearing up? She closed the bathroom door firmly in Lockwood's face, ignoring the shocked expression on his face in the second before he disappeared from her view.

She pushed the lock, waiting for the click before turning and facing the sink, bracing her hands on the edge and heaving a few deep breaths. She hadn't realised how hard it would be to pretend that she was completely fine around her family while they picked and prodded and commented and made snide remarks, and having Lockwood around was only making it worse.

She couldn't even begin to imagine all the things he would use as ammunition in the future. He'd have a field day on this holiday, taking all of her family's words and turning them against her, becoming even worse than he had been before.

A knock sounded on the door, light and unsure, and Lockwood's voice followed afterwards. "...Y/n? I- I'm-" he sighed, and she could imagine him clenching his jaw and looking up at the ceiling as he tried to fight against the nice words he was clearly trying to say. "I have a shit sleep schedule anyway, and you go to sleep a lot faster than I do so it's better for me to sit in a chair when I can't get to sleep and you can lie down, so... yeah." Y/n was surprised at how kind he was, and was starting to wonder if he was having some sort of stroke. But then he started talking again and she knew that he was completely fine.

"If you could not take for fucking ever in the bathroom though that would be great, because I really need a piss."

~~~

"Ah, there you both are! You took your time putting your bags away!" Linda's gaze drifted to Y/n as she said that, eyes sharpening and making the back of Y/n's neck prickle.

"Oh, that's my fault, sorry," Lockwood started, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in. Y/n stiffened, not used to being so close to him, and tried to force a smile onto her face. "I got carried away asking questions about the photos around the room, and I think I might have driven her slightly mad." He was smiling so widely and cheerfully that Y/n could practically feel everybody relaxing and warming up to him. It was frustrating, really, how they had known him for roughly ten seconds and already seemed to like him more than her. Her brothers were eyeing him up, trying to figure out whether they needed to take him outside or just give him a good talking to. Her sister Olivia was also eyeing Lockwood up, but in a very different way to their brothers that was making Y/n somewhat uncomfortable. It wasn't that they didn't get on and that was what was wrong, but they were sisters, and therefore they naturally disagreed on some things.

Apparently Lockwood's level of attractiveness was one of them.

"Oh, not to worry," her mother said, already loving having Lockwood here. "I made tea, if you'd like some? There's cake too, and far too much of it, so take as much as you want!"

"Tea would be lovely, Emma, thank you," Lockwood said, moving his arm away from Y/n's shoulders. She nearly jumped out of her skin in shock when she felt his hand land on her lower back instead, pushing her forward towards the empty loveseat that sat closest to the roaring fire. "Try not to look quite so horrified at this whole thing, darling," he whispered right into her ear, emphasising the pet name. "And maybe relax a little too, yeah?" He sat down on the chair, leaving very little room for Y/n to sit down herself without pressing up against him. She gave up trying to keep space between them when she ended up perching on the edge and gained strange looks from everyone else. Lockwood pulled her back towards him, grabbing her waist with both hands and tugging until she was right up against his chest, their thighs pressed together. He didn't let go, keeping his arms around her and nestling his head in the crook of her neck. She hadn't loosened up since walking in to the living room, and she was entirely sure that her spine was as stiff as one of the wooden floorboards under her feet. Her mother handed over two mugs of tea, placing them on the small side table next to their chair, then went to cut two slices of cake, starting with Lockwood's. He accepted his plate gratefully, smiling brightly up at her.

"How big of a slice, Y/n/n?"

"Uh... maybe-"

"Don't give her too big of a slice, she doesn't need that much," Stephanie interrupted, her tone sickly sweet. Y/n froze, and behind her she could feel Lockwood glancing between the two girls, trying to figure out what was happening. Her mother cut a decent sized slice, ignoring her niece's comment and handing the plate to Y/n.

"Did you make this, Emma?" Lock-Anthony (she might just give up trying to correct herself in a minute) asked.

"Oh, yeah, but you know, it's not my best."

"Well I think it's delicious, you'll have to share the recipe with me so I can have more of it back in London!"

"I'd be happy to! Do you bake then?"

"Oh, no, I'm awful. I'd burn the house down I'm sure. But our friend George is a magician in the kitchen."

"Remind me what you do for work again?" her father asked.

"Actually, maybe you could just... tell us. Since we know nothing about you!" Linda laughed. "We don't even know your name!"

"Anthony Lockwood," he said, yet another of his classic Lockwood smiles taking over his face. Y/n was starting to feel sick from the way Stephanie and Linda were watching them, and she put her fork down on her plate. "Y/n hasn't mentioned me much then?"

"No," Linda simpered. "I have to say, I was very surprised when I heard my sister say that Y/n had a boyfriend. I'm even more surprised that you actually exist!"

"I can't really blame her for not saying anything, I suppose. We're very busy a lot of the time and when we are free I'm often dragging her out on dates and the like, so if you haven't heard from her then that's entirely my fault." God, how was he such a good liar? Everybody believed him right away, but if she tried to get away with something like that they'd be asking so many questions she would give up and tell the truth.

"And... what is it you do for work?" her father asked again, desperate for the answer.

"I'm an agent."

"Fittes or Rotwell?"

"Uh... no, I-"

"Bunchurch then? Or maybe Grimble?"

"Actually," Lockwood glanced at Y/n, and she nodded slightly, bracing herself for her family's reaction. "I run my own agency. George, who I mentioned earlier, is our researcher, Lucy is our Listener, Holly our secretary, and then of course there's Y/n. Best Touch in England." He squeezed her slightly, and when she looked back at him he was smiling up at her so adoringly that she wondered how she ever hated him.

Then he jabbed her side, making her wobble and nearly spill the tea that she'd just picked up, and she remembered that he was a dick.

"Your... own... agency?"

"Yes." Lockwood didn't seem perturbed, which was lucky, because Y/n was feeling increasingly more unsettled with every second that passed. "We're based in London in my family home, but we take clients from all around England."

"Right... so that makes you Y/n's... boss?"

"I know it's not... the usual, but there is nothing that says we cannot be in a relationship. Believe me, I've checked. I don't think there is anything that could have been done to stop me from falling for your daughter, sir, despite her own best efforts, and I like to think that I keep my role as her boss completely separate from my role as her boyfriend."

Y/n stared at him in mild shock, not quite believing how sincere he sounded, and Lockwood was refusing to look at her.

Uneasy glances were exchanged by nearly all of Y/n's gathered family members, the only exceptions being Will, who had always supported Y/n, and Olivia, who was too busy checking Lockwood out. Y/n put her plate of cake down, having spent the last few minutes picking at it and barely eating any, and ignored the look that Lockwood gave her. She wasn't feeling hungry at all now that she was surrounded by everyone, and Stephanie was watching every move she made with terrifying intensity. No doubt there would be some fresh insults this year, and Y/n couldn't wait to be back home again.

Home.

Since when had she considered Lockwood's house her home?

"You alright?" Lockwood whispered in her ear. He kept asking her that, and it was freaking her out a little.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She stood up, gently detaching herself from Lockwood's grip and putting her mug of tea on the side table, half drunk. "Just need the loo, be back in a bit." She tried smiling at everyone, but the water gathering in her eyes made it difficult to pretend that she was actually fine, and she left the room finding it hard to breathe. Y/n headed up the stairs and into the bathroom attached to the room that she and Lockwood were staying in, and for the second time that day braced herself on the sink as she tried to regain control of her body. "Fuck," she muttered. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." She splashed some cold water on her face, holding it against her skin in the hopes that it would shock her back into being alright again, then turned off the tap and sat on the floor, her back to the sink and her legs stretched out in front.

Only two more days to go, and then she could go back to her normal life.

Two more days of this, and she was free, and could eat as much cake as she wanted, because George and Lucy would be stuffing their faces too.

She just had to fake it until then.

part 3

Tag list: @ahead-fullofdreams, @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @locklyebrainrot, @locknco, @mentallyillsodapop (I just realised I hadn't added you I'm so sorry 😭 although I don't know if you wanted to be added actually idkkk) @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

please let me know if I've missed you off the series tag list, and I'll put you right on! <3

[neverendinglabyrinth]

Analyzing 35 Portland Row:

Back at it with my set decoration posts, but lets overanalyze 35 Portland Row, shall we?

I love the way most of the house seems untouched, like it was frozen in time. Presumably, Lockwood never really "redesigned" the home from its original state, maybe a couple of changes here and there (which are more noticeable as we move on to other rooms) I say this, because of the contrast between pristine and messy in the areas.

The entryway:

I assume that the perspective pictures were taken as a way to assess how the set was going to look, in perspective 1 you can see the pillows on the bench missing, and in perspective 2 the clothing rack/hanger are completely missing.

On screen, we see that contrast I was talking about, you can see the way the clothes are almost stacked on that clothing rack (we can see George's coat, for example) I regard this as the kids respecting the space, since it is Lockwood's house they, most likely, don't want to trash it with their personal mess (or maybe George is the one that sets the 'mess-boundaries' to lighten the cleaning work).

On the other side of the spectrum we see the neat decorations and respected vases (respected as in, not using them as holders or trash bins) and the well cleaned masks and antiques hanging on the wall.

The Living Room:

This room is the "look how professional and neat we are" room, it is (by far) the cleanest one of them all, here is where they receive people and it is evident that they don't use it much by themselves, I know this because of the alarming lack of books laying around. I promise you, in Portland Row there are books EVERYWHERE.

Proof:

(these are just from the first couple episodes)

The Library:

I would argue that this is the "let's talk" room of the house, because it's the place where all of the information is. This is the room with the most "Lockwood flare", plus it's the perfect place for me to talk more about the messiness contrast.

In the scene where Lucy goes to talk to Lockwood, she has an apple core in her hand and this madwoman sets it ON THE TABLE (outrageous) but she looks for a spot where she wont ruin the table OR the books beside it. THE SELECTIVE MESS, PEOPLE! And Lockwood doesn't care, he just smiles, thankful.

Also there's a piano on the corner. (Hey! Locky, play Piano Man!)

The Kitchen:

Lockwood & Co's kitchen my beloved <3

By far my favorite room of the house, it is so cozy! From the spice rack, to the pot holders, to the kitchen utensils, the DETAILS. I'm in love, I love it.

And of course, the thinking cloth. The kitchen is the heart of Portland Row 35. And the crumbs on the table mean the world to me. LIKE DO YOU GET IT? DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE SIMBOLYSM OF CRUMBS ON THE TABLE?

I love kitchens, and I love set decor. That's all I have to say.

The Rooms:

Last sections of me nerding out about set decor, I promise!

Lockwood's Room:

It's safe to assume that Lockwood doesn't spend much time in his room, so it stays mostly neat. Probably only in use when he's sleeping or getting changed, and most of his time is spent in the library or in the kitchen with the others.

Lucy's Room:

Okay, this room is a set decor work of art. Why? Well, because it is a prime example of a characters personality shining through in a new space.

Not only does it show what it was before (a storage attic) but it also shows what it is now (a personal room) AT THE SAME TIME! You can see the way Lucy organizes everything contrasted with the way it was laid out before.

(look at the shopping bags she was carrying when talking to Kipps beside the bed, CONTINUITY!)

George's Room:

One thing about George is that he is way too excited about The Problem to care about actually cleaning and organizing his own room.

I think that his room is a physical representation of how his brain works. Books on the floor, papers stacked over anything, post it notes on the wall. You can just see the way his brain jumps from one thought to the other by the way his room is laid out!

The set decorator credits: JUDE FARR

So that's it! Im sure i missed a couple of things so if you want to add your observations, please do! And if i made any mistakes or incorrect assumptions I apologize, i am by no means and expert, I just like the subject.

[novelizt]

ENDEARMENTS ☁︎ ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

GENRE ➺ fluff, established relationship

WC ➺ 1.4k

SYNOPSIS ➺ lockwood doesn't understand why you bend when he uses terms of endearments on you.

DISCLAIMER ➺ implied non-brit! gender-neutral! reader. + usage of an assortment of pet names (they usually call each other 'bee')

NOTE ➺ to any brits out there—yes, us normies are heavily affected by 'darling' and 'love'. thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

He knew that he shouldn't abuse his power like this but he didn't have much of a choice. You had been ignoring him for the past five hours . . . over serving your morning coffee in the wrong mug.

Lockwood was a brave guy. You, alone, had the ability to make him scared of approaching you. He hoped for the best when he had strut up to you in your reading chair and wrapped his arms around you.

You stiffened in his arms but he persevered, placing his chin on your shoulder. He saw your lips turn taut, ready to frown and shoo him away, until...

"I'm sorry, my darling. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

He wasn't sure whether it was the apology or the overplayed endearment, but you had laxed in his hold. Allowing yourself to lean into his chest and kiss his cheek.

"It's okay, bee. I'm not mad anymore."

He had a hard time believing that, but when you put your book down to give him full body hug? He forgot all about his worries.

—

It wasn't everyday that Lockwood allowed himself a vacation. So, when you won a free trip to Rome, you had to bring him along.

What you didn't expect was for him to be so enthusiastic about living the tourist life. He had even bought a camera for the sole purpose of capturing your moments.

Travi Fountain was something you've been dying to see for ages but a run-in with a scammer had soured your mood. You were cross-armed and pouty-lipped for most of your walk-about.

"Come on, bee, just one picture. You've been telling me about this place for months now," Lockwood reasoned. He took your hand, stubbornly holding on.

"I'm not in the mood, bee," you grumble, shaking your linked hands. He wouldn't let go of you, even if you tried.

"We'll see about that."

"What was that?"

"Nothing," he said sweetly, then raised the camera to his eye; adjusting the focus to capture you, your linked hands, and the opulent fountain. "Smile for me, angel."

The frustration on your face melted, giving way to a timid smile that instantly brightened your face. He wasn't content yet. Lockwood was trying to coax his favorite smile out of you. "My love, I need you to show your pretty teeth, please. Oh— yes, smile just like that. That's exactly what I was looking for."

He mirrored your radiant smile. He couldn't help it. He took a few more shots and basked in your laugh for a few more glowing moments before lowering the camera.

"You got what you wanted now, Mr. Lockwood," you stepped closer, clearly in a higher spirits. You even pressed a chaste kiss on his chin as he viewed the photos.

"That, I did." He grinned, skin golden from the sinking sun. He placed a gratifying kiss on your temple then one on your knuckles. "You're perfect as always, my darling."

He should have taken a photo of you then, all red-cheeked and sun-kissed, but that would have to be a memory just for him. He had no qualms about that.

—

"You should be asleep," he tutted. His voice was low but his tone was reprimanding. Beneath that was a hint of petulance, like a child that didn't get his way.

You worked in the dining room under a lamp you had bought from a yard sale, like you routinely do. Not usually at ungodly hours like this. Judging by his pout, he wasn't pleased.

Lockwood had gone to bed hours ago, expecting you to follow soon after. Now, the hours were closer to the morning and your side of the bed was still cold.

You looked up, giving him a weak smile to try and placate his attitude. He looked so soft with bed-disheveled hair. You could see a sliver of pale skin as he lifted his shirt to scratch his belly. You absolutely melted while he softened at your sunken eyes. Only you could look so cute and sleep-deprived at the same time.

You lifted your notes to show him how much research you'd covered. "I can figure this out. I feel it. Just a bit more."

"Angel, baby," he started towards you. The terms had caught your attention. Your body faced his and your hands fell away from the case files you sprawled all over the place. "you need rest."

"I still have energy," you replied. You tried to resist his charms but you ended up giving in as he held his hands out.

He helped you to your feet, keeping one hand entangled with yours and the other drifting to your waist. With a sleepy smile, he requested: "Dance with me, my heart."

Lockwood claimed he didn't have much of a voice but, that night, he carried a tune like he was made to. The melody of 'Once Upon A Dream' drifts about you as he waltzed you across the kitchen, seducing you into a state of calm.

Your heart soared, you hummed along and you found yourself falling into the abyss that was Anthony Lockwood. As time danced on, you stepped closer and closer; your feet began to slow, and you finally set your head on his shoulder. Slowly but surely, he lulled you to sleep.

When your eyes fluttered shut and your weight shifted, he brought a careful hand under your knees and picked you up. With the litheness of a feather, Lockwood took you to bed and blessed your head with a kiss before he turned out the lights. He wished you a wonderful dream then drifted off himself. Content to be resting with you in close proximity; Your hands curled into his shirt to keep him close while his slipped under yours to feel the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips.

When the sun broke through the curtains, he made sure to cover you with his frame and uncharacteristically asked George and Lucy to take the morning off so you could catch a few extra hours of sleep.

In his groggy haze, his hands drifted higher beneath your shirt, resting on your upper back to pull you even closer. You tucked your head under his chin, and, in that moment, all was well in the world.

—

It became clear to him how weak you were to his endearments.

You nearly dropped your morning coffee when he called you 'my darling'. You tripped on air when he asked you to pass him a note after he called you 'my love'. Your face did an endearing sort of pout when he called you 'my heart'. But he found that you're weakest when he calls you, "dearest."

Your attention was snapped away from your favorite book. Your eyes swirled with question and also elation—like a child on Christmas day. A smile was on your lips for no apparent reason and he couldn't help but smile back.

"Yes, bee?" you inquired innocently, your rapt attention on him. You looked every bit like a fantasy come to life, and you hadn't even brushed your hair. It's was a blessing that he could capture your heart with a simple term.

"Nothing," he said, smile growing. "You just look beautiful, heart."

He took the space beside you. You leaned into his side like it was second nature. His arm draped over your waist and his chin propped on your shoulder, ready to read along with you.

"Thank you," you replied. After a moment of contemplation, you add, "dearest."

It felt like an arrow was shot through his heart. His vain attempt to back a kiddy giggle was the least of his worries. It striked him then, why smiling seemed to be your first reaction to an endearment. When they came from you, it made his heart do ludicrous things. He was weak for you, and by the looks of it, he was too far gone to turn back.

Not that he would turn back. He'd like you to call him 'dearest' again. Preferably, for the rest of his life.

NOTE ➺ He's been haunting me lately. I've already have another fic in the works—he won't leave my mind!!

Any who, feel free to leave feedback and don't feel shy to reblog!! Bless the world with more thoughts of Anthony Lockwood ✨

⌠ @novelizt 2023 ⌡

[givemea-dam-break]

im a sucker for lockwood x reader angst and i mean angry confessions, miscommunication and the “go ahead and leave then. everyone does, it wouldnt be a surprise if u did too” 😩😩😩

a/n: AHHHHH yes!! i'm so sorry this has taken so long to be written, and the fact I've been inactive for a week or two - it's been assignment week so i needed to focus on that unfortunately, but i hope you enjoy this! angst is my favourite thing to write lol. unfortunately, there's not much miscommunication in this, but i hope I've ticked the other boxes :)

warnings: angst, language gn reader

"Will you say something?"

You keep your head turned, staring out of the night cab's rain-covered window. Your heart is pounding, filled with rage, and you're worried that if you open your mouth, it'll come spilling out and you'll say something you'll either regret or get fired for.

Lockwood was an idiot during your case. He was reckless and impulsive, and it meant that the two of you narrowly finished it with your lives and all of your limbs in good health. You would've forgiven him if it had been a one-off, but he does this almost every single time, and it's becoming a big issue.

So here you sit, arms crossed over your chest as the cab speeds along, biting your tongue. Lockwood sits across from you, watching you with those dark eyes of his while a cut oozes blood on his forehead. Any other day, you would've patched it up immediately, but tonight he'll have to cope. You've had enough.

It doesn't take long to reach Portland Row and the taxi has barely stopped when you jump out and storm off towards the house. Lockwood is delayed a few seconds, having to pay the cabbie, but he catches up easily.

"(name), come on. Talk to me."

Wordlessly, you unlock the front door, half tempted to slam it shut in his face, but this is his house. He's got more right to be here than you.

You make to angrily climb the stairs and hide out in the attic to await Lucy's return and rant to her about Lockwood, but his hand wraps around your wrist as you reach the second step, stopping you.

"Please, (name). I can't stand it."

For a minute, you just stare at him. The blood from his cut has been smeared across his forehead, and the bags under his eyes have become a little more pronounced, but your usual sympathy has disappeared, eaten away by fury.

"What do you want me to say, Lockwood? Oh, it's okay that you almost killed yourself being so reckless tonight. You're my knight in shining armour. Or, how about: I know you promised to be reasonable tonight to make amends for all the other times you've almost killed yourself, and you didn't end up being reasonable, but I forgive you."

He looks at you, his gaze soft. His eyes are desperate, but he's got you talking which was his goal. It seems that the context of the conversation doesn't matter all that much to him.

But you don't care.

"Every single case," you say, trying to keep yourself from raising your voice, "has ended the same. We almost die or get seriously injured because you get reckless. I get it. You're trying to save us, and, believe me, Lockwood, I'm grateful for that, but what would happen if you died? Who would protect us then? Because all of this - you throwing yourself in the face of danger for us - will mean nothing if you die."

"I'm not going to let you guys get hurt," Lockwood says, and there's an undertone in his voice that gives you a clue to how he's feeling. He's getting irritated.

Good.

"And I thank you for that," you say. "But this is constant. Do you ever stop to think what we'd feel if you died? We'd be lost, Lockwood. Not to mention jobless."

"What am I meant to do? Let you get hurt? Not a chance!"

His rising anger is feeding into yours, and soon it'll be a raging fire, ready to burn everything in its wake. You have half a mind to let it loose, to tell him exactly how you feel about his stupidity, but you reign it in for now.

"Don't you hear me? I said I'm grateful that you try to keep us safe, but not at the cost of your own life!" You tear your wrist out of his grasp, breathing heavily. "Just take a minute to imagine this: you die on a case, and we have to deal with the body. We have to watch you die, and then we have to ignore the grief to not only finish the case but also make sure your body is taken away safely, that you're given a funeral. After that, a lifetime of grief and regret and denial, hoping you step through that fucking door one more time! Of all people, I thought you'd know what that kind of thinking does to a person."

His gaze hardens. "Watch yourself."

The laugh that escapes your lips is humourless. "Right, okay. I forgot. We don't talk about that topic because you're not ready, and that's fine. But it'll be me that has the burden when you die. Then George and Lucy will have to figure out how to cope, too. But we don't have a room to hide your memories away in, Lockwood. We live in a house surrounded by you."

You climb up a few stairs and point at a photo on the wall. "These pictures? They can be stashed away, but the feeling of you can't. Your soul has practically been embedded into the walls, the floor, the ceiling. Nowhere we go in this house will allow us to escape the memory of you."

His face is a little red as he watches you. He's angrier than you've ever seen him.

"So leave then."

The words feel like a punch to the stomach. "What?"

"If you're so sick of it, if the thought of my possible death is too much, then leave. Everyone does. It wouldn't surprise me if you did."

It takes all of your willpower not to scream at him. Instead, chest filled with the pressure of your fury, you make your way back down the stairs until you're eye to eye with Lockwood. He's breathing heavily now, too, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he watches you, eyes blazing with anger but also something else... Guilt?

"You don't get to say that," you growl. "I have been here for you since the beginning. I helped you set this company up. I helped you get it licenced, and I was the one who sweet-talked our way into getting full DEPRAC insurance. I have supported every stupid decision you've made. I've questioned you, but I never pushed. And yet, you still have the gall to say that you wouldn't be surprised by me leaving?"

The anger is so strong that tears threaten to cloud your eyes, but you push them down. You will not cry.

"I've tried my hardest to make sure you stay alive." The waver in your voice is embarrassing, but something in Lockwood cracks at the sound of it. "All I do is make sure you stay alive because you're all I've had for years. I've always cared for you. I've sat and patched you up night after night because I care about you - shit, I love you, Lockwood! I always have! So, don't you even dare suggest that I would ever leave. It's as good as insulting my parents' graves."

At that, you turn on your heel and storm up the stairs, leaving Lockwood standing at the bottom.

It takes a while for you to calm down.

After cleaning yourself of all specks of blood and dirt, you change into clean clothes and sink down onto your bed, closing your eyes and trying to slow the thrumming of your heart. Your hands are shaking from a mix of rage and sadness, but they lie on your chest, easing as your heart rate slows.

It takes all of your willpower to try and not think about one of the last things you said to Lockwood - that you love him - but it proves to be harder than it should be. You didn't lie. In your years of knowing Lockwood, you've grown close to him, something that had been hard originally because of your lack of trust in people, but he charmed his way right into your life. Every smile, every touch of your fingers left your heart racing and your mind hoping, begging, that he felt the same.

Now, though, after that argument, you're almost entirely convinced that he doesn't.

When George and Lucy arrive back at the house, you trudge downstairs to the kitchen where everyone awaits to discuss the cases. Lucy's already made you a cup of tea that you accept gratefully as you sit down at the far end of the table.

Away from Lockwood.

The change in your seating is noted by everyone, your usual chair left empty beside Lockwood's at the head of the table. George frowns, glancing between you and Lockwood, and Lucy gives you a look that you ignore.

"It was a phantasm where we were," you say, scribbling away at the thinking cloth. "Well, there was that, and then there was a very angry Wraith as well. Murder victims. We dealt with them quickly."

George's eyes find the plaster on Lockwood's head, much less neatly applied than it would've been had you patched him up.

"Rawbones for us," Lucy says, sipping her tea. There's a patch on the sleeve of her jacket that smokes slightly, burned by plasm. "George found the source - a manky old mug. Made no sense. Skull was no use, either. I think he's mad at me."

"Again?" Lockwood asks. His voice isn't entirely there. "What did you do this time?"

"I didn't do anything. He's just a little prick."

You bite your tongue to stop yourself from making a snide comment. The others are watching you carefully, easily picking up on your mood, but they don't bring it up.

Lockwood's eyes haven't left you this entire time. He's trying to communicate in that silent way you both developed after years of friendship, but you tear your gaze away from his, pushing down the re-emerging fury in your chest.

"Well, we're all alive," Lockwood says, laying emphasis on the final word. "Let's get a good night's sleep. We've got a meeting tomorrow with another client."

Lucy and George get up immediately as if they were waiting for a cue to leave. They're gone in seconds, closing the kitchen door behind them. It makes no difference. You silently sip your tea, still scribbling away. Your little mess of lines has turned into an angry face.

"(name) -"

You stand, making to leave the kitchen with your mug in hand, but Lockwood blocks the door.

Staring up at him, you scowl. "Excuse me, Anthony."

There's a little smirk playing on his lips. "Using my first name? I suppose I am in trouble."

"It's nice that you think this is funny, but I certainly don't. Now, let me get past so I can go to bed. I've had enough of today."

"Please, wait." He looks down at you, his eyes soft. He doesn't seem angry anymore - that makes one of you. "Can we just... talk?"

Against your better judgement, you turn and sit back in your seat, placing one of your feet on the seat and resting your head on your knee. You're tired. Not just from the case, but from being angry.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Lockwood says, and you know he's genuine. "I saw that Wraith coming for you, and I couldn't just stand there and let you get hurt."

You sigh, more exhausted than mad now. "That's not the problem, Lockwood. You do this in every single case, even when there's no need to. Half the time, I'm not sure whether it's because you want to protect us or if it's because you want an excuse to die." Your voice catches a little.

He falters, not expecting that. Part of you wants to feel good about catching him off guard, but the topic quenches any of it. You've spent countless nights worrying that you would get up in the morning only to find Lockwood not there or scared that you'd end a case leaning over his dead body.

No one should ever have to think like that.

"I care about you a lot," you say, running a hand over your face. "You know that. But I don't think it has ever occurred to you how badly it'd affect me if you died. And, I know, I'm being selfish, but I don't want to have to live in a world without you in it."

He's silent for a moment. "I'm sorry - about what I said earlier. I didn't mean it."

You barely have the willpower to shrug. "We were both angry. People say stuff they don't mean when they'd angry."

"So, you don't mean what you said? About loving me?"

It's hard to not look at him, but you focus your gaze on the thinking cloth, tracing the messy writing and doodles with your fingers. There are a few coffee and tea stains covering it.

"I meant it." Your mouth feels dry, so you take another sip of your tea. "I meant everything."

The only sound is of both of your breathing and Lockwood's foot tapping rhythmically on the tiled floor. He's nervous.

"I don't expect you to feel the same," you clarify. "To be honest, I hadn't meant to say it right then. If I had my way, I wouldn't have said it at all unless I was sure you felt the same. But, it's out there now."

Lockwood's chair screeches against the floor and, suddenly, he's kneeling beside you, moving so that he can catch your eyes. That stupid grin of his has parted his lips. His hand grasps yours softly, and you can feel his pulse faintly. It's faster than it should be.

"Don't look so smug," you grumble. "I don't forgive you, so I don't see what you have to be cocky about."

His grin only widens. "I'll show you what."

And then his lips have captured yours.

It's a short kiss, no longer than a few seconds, but it's enough to have your stomach performing a whole gymnastics routine. The anger in your chest slowly fades away until it's nothing but a small prickle, still there but nowhere near as powerful as it was.

His lips are startlingly soft, but, really, you wouldn't put it past him to be applying chapstick every waking second. He always wants to be camera-ready. Your eyes have fluttered shut, and, by the feeling of his lashes brushing your cheeks, it seems his have also. You wonder if his brain is throwing a party, too.

When he pulls away, you find yourself wanting more. Instead, you press your forehead against his, shutting your eyes tightly for a moment.

"If that wasn't enough to convince you to stop being so self-sacrificing on cases, I honestly don't know what will."

He laughs, and the sound has your heart soaring. "I'll try my best, but if you need saving, I'll most definitely come to save you. I am your 'knight in shining armour' after all."

His gaze is already locked on yours when you open your eyes again. The darkness of his eyes entraps you, and it's impossible to look away.

"Will you forgive me?"

A sly smile curves your lips. "Maybe if you kiss me more."

[lewkwoodnco]

Hii I wanted to request Anthony Lockwood×fem!reader with the song London Boy. Where the reader is from Europe, and she just moved to London to become a better ghost hunter, but she gets rejected at Fittes and other agencies. Then she finds out about Lockwood&Co. and goes to a job interview and gets hired. Since she's from Europe, she has an accent, and like she doesn't always pronounce words right, Lockwood loves it and finds it adorable. As she lives with all of them, they start becoming closer. She and Lucy become like best friends. And from the whole start, when she met Anthony, she was crushing on him and he would often call her darling and love, because for him it's normal, but she would literally be running laps in her head. Lucy notices all of this and teases them about it. Happy ending with them confessing and kissing? As always, you can change it so it suits the song more, I really love your writing, and it never disappoints!!

Lockwood x Reader - London Boy

A/N: While I was researching possible words to mispronounce whyy did I find out that I was pronouncing one of them wrong this wholeee time AHHH also why was it so hard to find a gif where he's smiling. Netflix pls renew the series to give him more screentime where he doesn't look like he wants to dies plzzz. also this starts with a letter written by the reader to her sister a week after moving to London, 3.1k, enjoy!!

Dear Elizabeth,

I hope things are fine over there. London is...interesting. It's very cold and wet, for one. I always feel like I'm one gust of wind away from catching a cold, but a friend took me shopping a few days back, and I've got a much warmer coat now. You'd love Lucy, she's got your sense of humour and everything.

Things didn't work out so well at Fittes. Or Rotwell. Or any of the other agencies I had shortlisted. I'm at a small independent, Lockwood & Co. There's only four of us and Mr. Lockwood's only a year older than me (a misnomer if I ever saw one, I thought he'd be closer to eighty than eighteen), but they get by just fine and I'm learning loads.

Part of me still wonders if I made the right choice by leaving. I wish I was home; warm, dry and safe. I miss the fields, the bonfires, the cheap juice boxes... miss you and mum to bits. Give her all my love.

"Writing a letter?"

She slammed a hand over her postcard with an aggressiveness that shocked her as much as him. She was sitting at the kitchen table, opting for a change of scenery while she drafter her note. It was morning, and from the shuffling sounds outside, George and Lucy seemed to also be awake, but only Lockwood was in the kitchen with her. And the thing about Lockwood was - well, he made her a little skittish.

She panicked at his slightly taken aback expression, rushing to make amends. "No! I mean, yes, I am writing a letter. It's for my sister, Elizabeth."

"I'm sorry I startled you, I don't mean to pry."

"You weren't." God, did she completely forget how to hold a normal conversation? It was mind-numbingly difficult to generate coherent words or even thoughts with his buttery smooth posh accent washing over her. "I just - we keep odd hours and with the time zone difference I haven't had the time to talk to them on the phone."

"I didn't know you had a sister."

She looked down into her tea, suddenly shy. Keeping eye contact with him was difficult enough when they were all in the room, but his undivided attention was simply unbearable. There was something so intentional in his gaze that made her too nervous to think too much about it. So that just left a knot in her chest that would throb and set her ablaze any time he got too close. That, coupled with their extremely embarrassing first meeting, made her especially prone to stuttering or leaving the room whenever Lockwood was around.

Ironically, he was away handling a mild Type One case in Sidcup, for which the prestigious clientele warranted the inconvenient travel, during her interview. Which was just as well, because she was sure she wouldn't have been able to force anything out with him watching her as closely as George had. She had seen the newspaper clippings on the wall, but the dates had been cut off, so it hadn't been immediately obvious to her that he was a teenager like the rest of them. Besides, who had heard of an agency run by three teenagers and no adults?

Which was why she nearly fell out of her armchair the following morning when the front door opened to the sound of unfamiliar yet boyish laughter. The briefcase carelessly left by the entry way to the living room caught her eye first, followed by his crisp suit, his straight tie, and finally, the man himself.

She wasn’t one to believe in love at first sight, but as he grinned with his dimples mischievously winking at her, she felt that if anyone could change her mind, it just might be him. She felt the palms resting on her book grow clammy as her heart thudded dangerously, And this was all before he had even spoken or looked at her. As soon he opened his mouth, she was a goner.

"You guys have to read this: 'Lockwood & Co. - the answer to the Problem? For an independent agency with less resources yet arguably more success than the big two, could they be the key to ridding our world of visitors? Read more on pa-' Page six? So much of that trouble, all for a page six?"

"Now look what you've done, Lockwood. You've scared our newest member mute with that demented laugh of yours."

"How could I forget? Y/N L/N, the one agent with enough talent to, and I quote, 'somewhat-kind-of satisfy' George Karim. I was positively racing home to meet you. Forgive my, hmm, associates. I hope they didn’t give you too rough of a time."

"You make it sound like we're degenerates!"

"They can be quite bothersome when they want to be. I'm Anthony Lockwood, of Lockwood & Co."

He stuck out a hand, and she blinked at him. She felt a bubble of nervous laughter lodged in her throat, almost half-inclined to believe that this was all a bit; he really was that ridiculously attractive. His dazzling smile faltered, morphing into one of concern, until Lucy knocked enough sense back into her to respond. She shook his hand, embarrassed, mumbling a greeting. He walked away, loosening his tie, and she buried her nose deeper into the paper, wishing it would just swallow her whole.

They had been terribly busy the past week, and during the day she would mostly tag along with Lucy, so their paths rarely crossed. There was this one time when he had just been coming down the stairs as she and Lucy were returning from their shopping trip. She froze halfway in the motion of taking her coat off, then shrugged it back on. He looked mildly confused. She was desperately confused. She didn't appreciate Lucy's snicker.

"New coat."

"Yeah. It's real warm."

"I can see that." Her coat looked not all that much bulkier than Lucy's, but she could still hear the smile in his voice as she pulled her gloves off. Somehow, she managed to coordinate her limbs enough to take the coat off and hang it like a normal person, before briskly walking up to the attic, the side of her face burning from when she passed Lockwood.

"It's real warm." Lucy wasted no time teasing her as soon as they were in the attic. She groaned.

"What else was I supposed to say?"

"You were really excited about the pockets at the shop."

"They're-"

"Faux fur-lined, yes, you've told me a thousand times." She gave a knowing half-smile. "Couldn't manage telling him once?"

"He'd think they were stupid. He'd think I was stupid." Even more stupid that he already thinks, she wanted to say. But who could blame him? For all he knew, she didn't have enough brain cells to string three coherent words together.

Their cases were tiring, but the routine was still so new that more often than not, she would be too wired to peacefully knock out in the attic with Lucy after their cases. She'd open the door to the attic just a crack, and listen to the soothing sounds of paperwork rustling in the library, watching the barely visible soft shadows of Lockwood moving about. She could glean that they were a little burdened by the absence of a pair of hands, and she had tried to offer her help, but all she got was distracted pats on the forehead as her words went in one ear and out the other. She couldn't blame them; they really did look stretched thin, which made her especially thankful for Lucy's company even at their busiest.

Still, that didn't stop her from carrying her blankets down to the door to the attic in the dead of the night, leaning her head against the banister. If she were lucky, she'd catch a faint strain of Lockwood humming. As cheery and disarming as he was, picturing him humming felt too intimate. The little that she could hear reverberated through her skull, the notes knocking into her other drifting thoughts about him, his British smile and his stormy London eyes. But the Lockwood she curiously dreamt of at night never reconciled with the Lockwood she saw walking and talking during the day, and so their relationship had come to a sort of standstill, where he would smile at her and she would take the first socially-acceptable chance to flee the room. Only, it was a bit harder to escape early in the morning when they were the only ones in the kitchen.

Fortunately, the others soon came, and the tension eased. Lucy came in, sleepily trying to scrounge up some tea while George went off on Lockwood about his sleep schedule, or lack thereof, while Lockwood tried to stuff his face and busy himself in gathering his documents to keep from answering. She took advantage of the bustle to discreetly sift through the drawers. Lucy had mentioned that they had a postage drawer somewhere, but she didn't want to be too much of a burden by asking again.

"George, lay off me, I've got to get to DEPRAC. Luce and I will meet you at the Archives and - oh, darling, we keep the stamps here." Lockwood paused his hunt for some brown, non-descript envelope to pull open a drawer between the two of them. She could feel her face starting to warm, but only because of the embarrassment, not the nickname. "Mailman should be coming around soon, so you might want to hurry. Luce, yesterday's client should be coming around near 5 and you promised Holly you'd do the invoices while she was away. Oh, what now George?" She ducked her head, muttering some thanks that went unheard as George tried to force out how many hours Lockwood had slept, practically chasing him out of the house. Lucy raised her eyebrows suggestively, which she pointedly ignored.

That day was the most dull one yet, where she rolled around the house like a lost penny, trying to occupy herself. A letter arrived some time in the late morning, and she took the liberty of starting its case report file. Lockwood was the first one free, arriving home a little after lunch. She told him as soon as she saw him, while he was still taking his coat off, forcing the words out before she lost her nerve.

"We got a new case while you were gone. I started its file."

"Wonderful. Thanks, love." He rolled up his sleeves, putting on the kettle, while she surreptitiously leaned against the wall for support, trying not to think about how effortlessly pet names dripped off his tongue, like honey, before she got too shaky in the knees. She pressed on.

"It was from a Lew-tenant Smith."

"Who?"

"Lew-tenant Smi..." her voice trailed off. No, that didn't sound right. She couldn't imagine any of them saying it like that. Lockwood briefly leaned over her shoulder, a faint smell of soap lingering around him, before his eyebrows unfurrowed and he returned to his tea.

"Oh, I see. We pronounce it as 'left-tenant.' Now, where's he staying?"

Oh dear. She wasn't entirely sure. "Erm, Ald-wykh?"

"Ald-wich, we call it."

"Ah." Some part of her wanted to apologise, but he was looking at her with a strange twist to his lips and a certain fondness was shining in her eyes that, once again, she was rendered speechless. A silence followed, and for once, she willed herself to bear it.

"You haven't been stuck at home all day, have you? Have you been outside during the day any time this week?"

"I, er-"

"Luce, what kind of a friend are you?" Lockwood spun around to accost Lucy, who had wandered into the living room to see the commotion, bleary-eyed from whatever lair she had retired to to iron out the paperwork. "Y/N must be feeling cooped up. We should make a day trip of it. We'll get a break one of these days, and we'll take you around London, do all of it: high tea, the West End, go to a pub, watch some rugby- how are you with heights? Interested in the London Eye?"

Lucy groaned, stealing Lockwood's tea. "I don't know how Holly does it."

"Well, for one, I don't think she lets it pile up like you do."

Lucy shot Lockwood a dirty look, taking his biscuit too before turning back apologetically. "I'm sorry, Y/N, but how about next week?"

She laughed, pulling a weak smile from Lucy. "Don't sweat it. Hopefully, I'll still be around then." Lucy waved goodbye, retiring to her mountains of paperwork.

"Well, there goes my tea. Would you like some...?"

"Tea? Oh, um, sure."

"Brilliant. See you outside in five minutes." With that, he left the kitchen. Once she had caught up to what had just happened, she slipped her coat on, joining him outside just as he hailed a cab.

Surprisingly, he hadn't been exaggerating: Lockwood was fully prepared to take her to each and every one of those attractions, no matter how long it took. In the end, they narrowed it down to a rainy cab ride to a play at the West End, with high tea afterwards, though they did get around to the rest in the coming weeks. Oddly enough, they never planned it beforehand. The occasional lull in cases would sneak up on them, Lockwood would wander into the living room where she would be fused to an armchair, and suddenly it would be time for yet another trip around London.

But now they were at high tea, tucking in to the fading sunlight and excitedly discussing the play. A wind blew through one of the open windows, and she shivered.

"Everything okay, love?"

"I'm fine. It's just a little draughty, don't you think?"

"A little what?"

"Dra - erm, like, it's windy?"

"Drafty."

"Oh, come now, that sounds nothing like how it's spelt. How was I supposed to know that?" He chuckled, shaking his head slightly, as he polished off his food. But she was feeling bold enough to not let it drop this time.

"You keep doing that! You smile and turn away or you laugh and it makes me feel like I've put my foot in something - "

"No, no, dear god, no." There he was, laughing again. She hoped he would choke; but not too hard, just enough to shock some sense into him. "You don't - it's not your fault; believe me, I'm just an awful person. It's just...you really try your very best at...everything, really." His eyes fixed on hers and she found herself wanting to never look away. "It's...endearing."

"I’m sorry. I know my accent isn’t the clearest-"

“No, it’s fine. I like it. It’s very unique, and…beautiful. I’d pick your voice out of a crowd.” She felt this warmth wash over, and then chills run down her spine. He made her all nervous and giggly on the inside in a way that made her want to lounge around London, indulging herself in useless thoughts of ridiculous London boys with addictive smiles and silver tongues.

But like all good things, their excursion came to an end. She found herself dragging her feet to the front door with a boy with whom she was too scared to be alone with just 12 hours ago.

"I hope you had fun today. Not feeling too homesick, are you?"

She thought back to the green meadows and lightning bugs that she had dreamed about in the early hours of that morning. That life still seemed so precious, so sacred, but now it was oddly distant, no longer something she yearned for.

"I don't think so. You know what they say, 'home is where the heart is,'" she looked up at him, unable to resist the smile tugging at her lips, her voice dropping to a whisper. "But I think the English aren't half-bad either."

"Not half-bad?" They were so close now, she could feel his breath tickling her forehead. Her heart stuttered. "I took you out to the West End, and you call it 'not half-bad.'"

"Well, there are certain exceptions."

"Like what?"

Her stomach threatened to explode with giddiness. She was having a hard time regulating her breathing and looking at him at the same time. God, she was never beating the 'stupid' allegations. "I don't know," she fibbed in a flimsy attempt to seem cool. "Like...like you."

In the end, it was his eyes that pulled her in, pulled her under, because one moment she was teetering on the precipice of something new and terrifying, and the next there was soft skin brushing her frozen face, warm lips on her chapped ones. He tasted like summer in this cold, dead winter, breathing life and wonder back into her. It was dizzying, exhilarating, heart-palpitations-inducing...it was Lockwood, surrounding and consuming all her senses.

He pulled away, and all she stared at him blankly, as if he had stolen the words at the tip of her tongue. He gave a half-smile, and she grinned at him. He opened the door for her, murmuring in her ear in a way that filled her brain with pleasant static. "After you, darling." She rolled her eyes reflexively as a defense mechanism, but still her heart fluttered. They walked in to find George sorting the mail, mildly peeved, mildly concerned.

"Ah, so you two finally decide to show up. You could've been dead in a ditch for all we know. Your dinner's gone cold, you know."

Lucy had skipped down the stairs once the front door opened, a little too immediately for her liking and now her eyes narrowed teasingly. All of a sudden, she had the embarrassing realisation how visible the front porch was from the attic. There was colour in Lucy's cheeks, which probably meant that she had somehow managed to work through all that paperwork. Drat. "I dunno. I think Mr. and Mrs. 'Darling' are- "

"Luce! Have I...told you about my coat pockets?"

Lucy rolled her eyes, heading back to the attic, while George shook his head and handed her a postcard. Lockwood's fingers lingered briefly on her wrist as he walked away, leaving her and her mind all topsy-turvy. With a start, she pulled herself away from delicious thoughts of Lockwood to the postcard in her hand. She scanned it eagerly, lips twitching as she reached the end of it. Her sister could be just as ridiculous and delusional as her sometimes, and she wasn't even in the same country.

Y/N -

Can't say much, haven't got the time. All's well here and we miss you dearly too. The house is just too quiet, but mum seems to be adjusting. We saw a picture of your boss in the paper the other day.

London boys truly are a different breed, aren't they?

Love, Lizzie.

[starzortega]

I want to request Anthony Lockwoodxfem!reader, where Anthony meets the reader and immediately falls for her, but she doesn't notice because she's very socially awkward. Also, she is Inspector's Barnes niece, so they always meet each other after a case when DEPRAC shows up. Lockwood always flirts with her, but she doesn't think his being serious. When she calls him Lockwood, he tells her to call him Anthony. That surprises George and Lucy, and they tease him for it. The reader is also starting to fall for Anthony , but she doesn't think he could ever like her back. The reader and Lucy start becoming very good friends, so she's around Portland Row a lot. After a case goes wrong, Anthony is injured, and the reader gets mad at him about being reckless. They get into an argument, which leads to an angry confession.

Stars upon the face

Masterlist

Warnings: a lil bit of angst and mention of being st!bbed

Word count: 689

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader

A/n:Thank you so much for this request!! I didn’t do the whole request as I’m really new to this but I hope you enjoy it <33

I’m really sorry if this is bad!! This is my first fic ever!!

Feel free to send in more requests <3

————————————————————————

“Please look at me” Lockwood voiced, staring at Y/N.

With tear-rimmed eyes, she looks over her shoulder meeting his eyes, breathing erratic.

“Was it worth it Lockwood? Worth almost dying” Raising her voice anger lacing her words as she turned back around and walked through into the kitchen.

“Listen, I had it under control. I would've been fine.” he grits his teeth, holding back a breath as he leans against the kitchen counter.

Stepping towards him, Y/N snorted “Really? Well if you had it under control we wouldn’t be in this situation right now!! I mean look at you, you were stabbed, Lockwood. Sometimes I feel like you go in harm's way on purpose” Her voice wavers, tears streaming down her face.

His face softens lightly, They’d known each other for almost a year, meeting after a case that went terribly wrong yet again.

She had been with her uncle Inspector Barnes when the team of Lockwood and co staggered out of the Combe Carrey Hall. He was angry. Really angry. Uncle Barnes after a bad day often vented to the young girl about the troubled trio, saying they were dragging Fites through the mud, employing people who didn't have the right grades, practically making Barnes’ job more difficult. Much to her uncle's dismay, Y/N began harbouring a small crush on the determined Lockwood even though she had never even spoken to the boy. Walking over to the group that just walked out of the Building with her uncle, Y/N stood giving the trio an apologizing look as her uncle shouted at them she kept her head down embarrassed by her uncle's frantic. Since that day, Y/N kept bumping into them after cases or even just out stocking up on salt bombs often stopping and chatting to them for a while. That was until one day Lucy offered for Y/N to come back to their home Portland Row for a cup of tea and biscuits. I mean how could you say no?

Now, it being almost a year since Combe Carrey Hall, they have all gotten close. Portland Row felt like Y/N's home she was there practically every day, always staying too late so she’d bunk with Lucy in the attic.

“So what’s going on between you and Lockwood?” Asked Lucy one day, she was led on her stomach looking up at Y/N.

“What do you mean?” She replied, confusion written on her face.

“Come on, you don’t see it? The way he looks at you isn’t the way friends look at each other.”

Y/N shakes her head “We’re just friends I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You think that?” Lucy raises her eyebrows

“Well.. yes he doesn’t like me like that.”

“Well, what do you feel for him? Do you like him?”

Y/N's face flushes red “Well er I think so? anyway change of topic I don't feel like talking about it anymore”

——————————————��—

“Lockwood, I'm just looking out for you. I know you’re just trying to protect Lucy or George but please just think about how I’d feel if something bad happened to you. I need you, Anthony.” Her voice cracks, Sobs emitting from her mouth. Lockwood grabs her wrist and pulls her to him, wrapping his arms around her waist and letting her wet his shoulder.

“Lockwood I don’t think you understand how much I need you here I don’t even know what I’d do if-“

“Hey, I’m here. I'll try. I promise I’ll try to be less careless, okay? I’m so sorry dove.”

Lockwood pulls back their faces close together, their eyes lock looking at each other with pure love.

Her eyes move from his eyes to his lips and back to his eyes again, parting her lips ever so slightly.

Lockwood moves one of his hands to cradle her face.

“Can I kiss you?” Whispers Lockwood, smiling when Y/N nods vigorously bringing her closer to slot their lips together.

Their lips move in a synchronized rhythm only parting when they run out of breath.

“I really like you.”

“I really like you too.”

[taraljc]

Rewatching Lockwood & Co one of the smartest choices I think the writers made in adapting the novels was to show Lockwood on his back foot, visibly shaken, struggling. It doesn't happen often, but when it does it's that much more effective.

The entire Winkmans arc, from him trying to charm his way out of the situation and realising that he has drastically misjudged how people outside of his world react to his slick polished posh charm and that Lucy might be killed because of it you see the panic set in.

That's something that I think the series really excels at is showing that for all that they have brought up in a world where they are fighting on the front lines, they are still children who need protecting even if they don't realise it.

this is never more evident than his panic attack after the undercover agent is killed (in so far as he knows) because of his actions. that the cordial rules of polite society in so-called civilisation where killing a DEPRAC agent would simply never happen because you wouldn't be able to get away with it, their status protects them.

The idea that all the iron, salt, and silver in the world means nothing to Winkmans, that youth, money, power, status--none of those things can protect him. He has no defences for that kind of attack.

That is the most vulnerable we have ever seen him, when he can't breathe and he can't think and he just completely overwhelmed by what just happened because up until that point I think he really genuinely felt like he was in control. it's the shocking realisation that he has so much less power, and so much less control over what happens once he's outside a very specific sphere.

Lucy on the other hand never had any illusions about how much power and control she doesn't have and about the people around her. she learned at very young age that nobody else was going to stick their neck out for her and it was her job to keep herself and her friends safe. and she doesn't trust anyone to follow any kind of rules of supposed civilisation because she seen people at their worst and she presumes the worst of everybody at all times because that's been her life experience up until that point.

What I find most fascinating is Flo because she is both an observer with a foot in both worlds and also the most pragmatic, practical, level-headed person in the entire series. she is even more so than Barnes & Wade the only one with a truely healthy perspective. and I really love her scenes with George on the boat and we wouldn't have got that if it weren't for the television series and I will forever be so incredibly happy that we got telly!Flo and telly!George.

I am dying to learn how and when Lockwood decided to channel all of his energy and all of his intellect into that slick public persona and shell of confidence. who taught him that? who taught him that that was the way to achieve what he set as his goals? there has to been an example in his life and it doesn't have to be a positive example but a really strong example that he is following. and that has got me thinking more and more about writing something set pre-series.

[therubyreader]

The Fight for Lockwood and Co. Season 2

Ok, so, I was wrong, Netflix was stupid enough to cancel Lockwood and Co. after one season despite how good of a show it was and how literally all of the ratings were in its favor. But! there is some light at the end of the tunnel and I am back to spread more (hopefully not false) hope to the masses aka Lock Nation (I think that's our government name).

For starters, and I mean this in the best way possible, this fandom is probably the most aggressive one I've seen when it comes to trying to save the show. Now, I'm usually not the biggest fan of tv shows so I usually sit on the fringes of the fandoms, watching, so this is my first time really being in the thick of things and I don't know if it's due to my inexperience in tv show fandoms but this is genuinely the most dedicated fandom I've ever seen. The lengths that we as a collective are willing to go to in order to save the show is extremely admirable and honestly gives me hope for a second season. There's hashtags trending on multiple platforms, a watch party being planned, and a petition was created. If you're out of the loop on that and want to participate, @thisgameissonintendo made this wonderful masterpost pretty much explaining everything going on in the fandom in efforts to save the show.

While doing some research for this post (yes, I do research, I've been out of college for nearly two years but I still can't shake the habit) I was looking to see how many times Netflix has reversed a renewal decision, I couldn't find any examples of Netflix un-canceling a show, it's always been them deciding to cancel a show that's recently be renewed. But, there have been plenty of shows that have managed to have a second life outside of Netflix which is good news for us, especially since Netflix doesn't own the production rights, Complete Fiction, a company founded by the show's director and producers, does, which means they could, in theory, pitch the show to another network/streaming service. And, coupled with fan efforts, there is a pretty decent chance another network will swoop in to save the show since they know it will bring them money and viewers especially if they're seen as the heroes by the fanbase.

The point of all of this is to say that despite the cancelation this is fight worth fighting and we have a good chance of winning. So, keep trending hashtags, join the streaming party, sign petitions, get the word out, this isn't over yet and I'll be damned if I go down without putting in my all.

[captainfairygodmother]

Okay, I know it's a bit early to be talking about this- and highly pessimistic of me- but can we all agree that if Dead Boy Detectives does get cancelled like how everyone keeps saying it is likely to be, then can we please have a huge OFMD-fans-style effort to get it reconsidered or brought to another streaming service?

I know OFMD didn't work out in the end, which is unfortunate because I loved it as much as the next person. But I dread to think of another queer show being cancelled without further content.

I suppose that this is also a message to the OFMD fans- I know that we really tried for our little pirate show, so is there any chance that the same people can help out with Dead Boy Detectives in the worst case scenario? If we all banded together, it could make a huge difference between renewal and cancellation. Help can even start now, just by watching the show, which even goes for people who are reluctant to watch it due to the fear of cancellation, or people who are still upset by the cancellation of shows like Lockwood & Co and Shadow & Bone etc. But the more views, the more likely it is to get renewed.

So please, Dead Boy Detectives fans, Our Flag Means Death fans, Lockwood & Co fans, Shadow & Bone fans- anyone who is even slightly interested in making sure that another LGBTQ+ show doesn't get cancelled- please help out in any way possible, starting with getting the views up on Dead Boy Detectives while we still have time!

[shadowbriar]

Anthony Lockwood - Vulnerable Headcanon

Notes : I have never done headcanons before, bear with me if this is not up to your expectation. If you like this post and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

Anthony wasn’t the type to be vulnerable about his feelings. Having to survive the cruel world alone from a young age, Anthony’s found comfort in keeping his troubles to himself.

Oftentimes it boosts his ego. How things eventually fall into place, even if he has to improvise and be just reckless enough to see it done, at the end of the day he would always come home with a bright smile.

Being close with Anthony doesn't mean that he would show his troubles easily. Most times you would have to play riddle and decipher his hidden meanings because he’s just too used to keeping things to himself and his ego often gets in the way of him admitting his worries.

The first time he’s ever shown his vulnerability would be out of accident. Perhaps a mission went wrong or a fight happened between him and the others. You heard his silent sobs at the library in the middle of the night, but let him be as you weren't sure if he would be appreciative of your sudden barge in.

You tried to talk to him about it the following morning. Making sure he knows that he can always come to you and find shelter, but he would always only reply with a nod and a smile. He never wanted to make you worry about him.

Until one day.

There was a soft knock on your door. It was a peaceful night, some time after a big mission was successfully done and everyone went home with bright happy smiles. You thought everyone was neatly tucked on their bed, getting that very much due rest they have been lacking lately, but there he is, Anthony, standing by your door with an unsure smile.

Even when you greet him with a gentle smile and soft call of his name, Anthony still felt like he was bothering you and began to ramble “Forget it”, “Sorry for disturbing your sleep”, “It’s nothing” and trying to flee out of the situation.

It was when you took his wrist that he calmed a little, stopping vomit of nonsense excuses and took a deep inhale.

“I don’t know what to say or what to do, but would you be willing to join me at the library tonight? Your presence calms me.”

Ever since that night you’ve been spending more time talking and enjoying each other’s company at the library. There are times when you find yourself fallen asleep and waking up with a blanket covering yourself. Anthony always made sure that you were properly taken care of whenever you fell asleep there.

Some time after the countless nights spent at the library, Anthony begins talking about his past. About his memory of his parents, his little sister, his childhood, things he has never shared with anyone before.

Sometimes he would be crying, sobbing as the memory washes over him and you would have your arms embracing him for support. You both would be in such a position for hours, oftentimes falling asleep and finding each other held close as you wake up in the morning.

Anthony had never had anyone to share his burden with so vulnerability has always been something he tries to bury deep inside. He has trouble expressing his intentions so most times you would just hold him close until the storm passes and he could find better ways to convey his message.

It would be a long way until he could be comfortable in expressing his burden but he was willing to learn and you’ll be there, guiding and holding him close through each battle.