#this is for my lockwood and co fanfic

[bloodcanbehot]

I Wish You Would

(gotta keep that Taylor Swift theme)

Anthony Lockwood x f!reader

Content: Angst? Fluff? Touched starved Lockwood

Warnings: Mention of blood and wounds, also some curse words (I think)

Characters: Anthony Lockwood and (y/n) Kipps. (Lucy Carlyle and Quill Kipps also appear)

Word count: 1.083

A/N: Exactly two people told me to post it, and that was enough (I'm literally about to enter to an online class while typing this). Chronology speaking, this goes BEFORE their first kiss but I'm a dumbass and forgot to post this one first, hope you like it

(I'll attach their first kiss here)

“Where were you?” Quill asked, seeing both Lockwood and (y/n) walk in with dirt on their faces and hair. As soon as he spoke, his sister’s face told him to not speak, unless he wanted to die.

“We’re fine!” (y/n) said, grabbing Lockwood by the arm and walking to the kitchen.

“You guys don’t look-” Lucy started, but the slamming of the door cut her off.

“Sit”

“I’m not your dog”

“And I don’t care” (y/n) said, pointing at the kitchen chair “sit down”

Lockwood did as she said, even though he didn’t want to. (y/n) started taking out items from the first aid kit, slamming them on the table as she cursed.

“I cannot fucking believe you” she said “seriously, why is it so hard for you to take care of yourself while we’re out on a case?” (y/n) asked, soaking a small piece of cotton with disinfectant. She grabbed Lockwood’s arm, forcefully moving the sleeve of his dress shirt up to see his cut better.

“(y/n) I-” Lockwood started, hissing when the cotton made contact with the cut on his arm.

“This might hurt” (y/n) said, after hearing him hissing, a smirk on her face.

“Okay” Lockwood said “I deserved that”

“You deserve more” (y/n) said “actually, you don’t even deserve me doing this for you, should I just tell my brother to do it, so you suffer a bit more?” she questioned, sarcasm all over her voice.

“(y/n)-”

“You know, when Luce told me you were reckless, I thought 'well, he's certainly not stupid' guess I was wrong!” she grabbed one of the big band aids and covered his cut.

“(y/n) I’m sorry, okay?” he said “this wasn’t reckless, I had a plan, it just didn’t work”

“Wow, what a surprise”

“I didn’t know the golden blade was gonna be there!”

“The what?” (y/n) stood up, forgetting about his other cuts.

“Last year we encountered him” Lockwood explained “we think he somehow works for Penelope Fittes-”

“My boss?”

“Yes” Lockwood nodded “he tried to steal the bone glass from Lucy and I” he explained “he’s also the one who shot me” he grabbed her hand “you have to believe me”

(y/n) looked at his eyes, processing what he had said in silence, enough to make Lockwood panic, the hold on her hand tightening.

“I… I believe you” she said, sitting back down. She wasn’t gonna lie, she always felt a weird vibe from the woman, or the entire agency for that matter. And she didn’t think Lockwood would lie to her.

He sighed in relief “Thank you (y/n)-”

“What I also believe” she started, letting go of his hand and grabbing a new cotton piece “is that your other cuts need to be taken care of” she said “specially this one” she tapped slightly the cut on his forehead, making him hiss again “I thought you were good at fencing?”

“I am” Lockwood shot back “I was just… surprised”

“Your blood says otherwise” (y/n) replied “now, lean closer so I can help”

Lockwood only nodded and whispered a small ‘yes’, letting her do the work and leaning closer as she instructed. As she leaned in, she quickly realized how her back was going to kill her if she did that, so she grabbed her chair and dragged it a bit closer to his, eventually ending up with her thigh in the middle of his thighs.

Lockwood chuckled “you might as well sit on my lap if you-”

“Shut up or I’ll do it” she cut him off with a smile.

He smirked “be my guest”

She ignored him, grabbing the back of his head to steady it as she disinfected the cut across his forehead. She was focused, focused on cleaning the blood and figuring out which bandage to use, but Lockwood’s wandering hands on her knee were distracting her.

It started with his fingers, slowly tapping her knee, barely noticeable, and she wouldn’t have known if he hadn’t kept going at it. His fingers slid across her knee and (y/n) made her best to ignore it, but as she stood up to change the cotton piece, he pushed her leg open, causing her to fall on his lap.

“That’s better” he said, smirk on his lips again.

“Lockwood-”

“Please” he said, voice so quiet she barely heard him.

She looked at his eyes, and for one moment she saw his mask crack. His dark circles and clenched jaw showed her how tired and stressed he was. She couldn’t even imagine how much his muscles ached after the fight, let alone the throbbing of the multiple cuts on his skin.

“Fine” she whispered, not trusting her own voice with the feeling of his hands on her waist.

She kept doing her thing in silence and he just watched her, tracing small circles on her sides with his thumbs. (y/n) just wanted to close her eyes and enjoy it, enjoy his touch on her skin and wish she could feel it for longer, to forget about the case, the fight, everything. She wanted to focus on him and him only.

“There” she said, breaking whatever spell was between them. She grabbed his chin, angling his face to admire the, now taken care of, cut “you’ll live”

He chuckled, smiling truthfully for the first time that night, or since (y/n) knew him, she didn’t care. She liked the small glow on his face.

They locked eyes, the blanket of silence settling on them again. (y/n)’s fingers slid across his chin towards his jaw, making him close his eyes and just enjoy her touch. His hands started moving up her waist, slowly, also making her want to close her eyes and enjoy, but she still leaned forward, closer and closer to him.

He felt it, the weight shift on his lap, some of her curly locks tickling his shoulders.

She could feel their lips almost touching.

The door opened, making her open her eyes wide and snap her neck so hard she wondered if this is how she was going to die. That would be better than the image she saw.

Both Lucy and her brother were standing at the doorstep. (y/n) stumbled off Lockwood’s lap, feeling his hands fly away from her and almost fell. Chair and all.

She gripped the thinking cloth “I was tending his cut” she stupidly said.

She could feel how Quill resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as she looked at him.

“You sure were”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A/N: I feel like this scene and the other one are pretty similar, so if I do write the fanfic I'll change it, but let me know what you think! (Again, be nice)

[bubbl3zdaseaotter37]

Heyyyyyy so I know I disappeared off the face of the planet for like a month there but IT'S FOR GOOD REASON. I'm going through college applications rn and SATs and the whole gauntlet so yea. Also: hyperfixating on a new fandom

bc HAVE YOU HEARD OF LOCKWOOD AND CO??? LIKE

THIS SERIES

IS

KILLING ME.

and then Netflix had the gall to go and FNDUGNSVGING CANCEL THE SERIES and of course I only found this out AFTER I watched all the episodes and was so emotionally invested in these idiots that I think I may have cried when I found out.

and yes I know there's a book series too; I'm almost through book two and I am TERRIFIED of reading The Hollow Boy bc I'm getting bad vibes from the fandom every time someone mentions it. like. Reichenbach in the Sherlock fandom. and Mark of Athena w my Percy Jackson broskis. Violent sobbing in the back of the room, type thing. We got any long-time Lockwood & Co fans here? Bc I need emotional support.

anyways, have any of my fellow fanfic writers ever had the dilemma of "I want to write a fic for this fandom but at the same time I don't feel like I'm a 'member' of the community bc I haven't consumed every available piece of it yet?" idk, maybe that's just a me thing. That's why I'm throwing this out into the abyss.

So what do you guys think, my fellow fic gremlins? Can you always tell when someone writes a fic that they're a new member of the fandom? Is it cringey?

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

that problem when you as a fic writer get into a tv show and you can already tell that you won't be writing fic about it bc it just doesn't have the cracks for your brain to force itself into yet you know you're going to want to binge it anyway because ReasonsTM so basically your brain is calling an effective hiatus for the next however-long-it-takes-to-watch-this-damn-show-and-consume-relevant-fanfic-for-at-least-a-few-weeks

[silver-scripts]

Lockyle: Only One Bed Preview

When confronted with the ~only two rooms~ debacle at Albury Castle in The Creeping Shadow, I'm sure I'm not the only one who immediately imagined a "only one bed" fic.

It's one of the projects I'm working on for nano and probably won't be edited until December, so here's a sneak peek :)

This isn't edited so sorry about any typos

The group of them stared at the two sets of keys in front of them.

Two.

“Well, personally I’m too tall to fit in a twin bed or on the couch, so I’ll be taking the room with the big bed,” Kipps said. He reached out to snag the key, and Lockwood lunged forwards as well. Evidently their old rivalry still went deep enough that neither of them was willing to concede to the other.

But there were two keys, and they each pulled away with one. The game changed.

Holly eyed George and then Kipps, calculating the odds. “Well I’m not sharing a bed, so I will be taking the cot,” she said quickly, taking a step towards Kipps. She slung her bag over her shoulder and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, smiling tightly. Kipps grabbed his kit bag and the two of them headed upstairs. A moment later, a door closed.

And then there were three.

George, Lockwood, and Lucy stood staring at each other. A breath passed, and George took his glasses off to clean them on the bottom of his shirt. Carefully, he replaced his glasses and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He teetered on his heals as if he was waiting for someone to say something.

“Well,” Lucy started. She wished, suddenly, that she hadn’t bitten her tongue and had asked Holly to split the twin. It would have made the most sense. And yet here she was now, resigned to taking the couch. She could already imagine how much her back was going to hurt in the morning. “I suppose it makes the most sense for me to-”

“I’m more than happy to take the couch,” George said simply. “Personally, I like my personal space. And I can’t imagine either of you would be rather fond of spending the night with me.” He smiled at them delightedly and grabbed his bags, heading off to plop down on the couch by the fire. “Have a good night!”

“Wait,” Lucy called. “You-”

But George had already disappeared, and she was alone with Lockwood.

If he was phased by the idea of having to spend the night with Lucy, he didn’t show it. Instead, his eyes sparkled the way they always did, and he sent her one of his signature grins. He grabbed both of their kit bags.

“Onwards,” he said, swinging the key merrily around his fingers. He headed for the stairs.

Lucy felt jittery in her skin, but she took a heavy breath and forced herself to follow him. Might as well get this over with.

Upstairs, Lockwood meticulously put the key in the lock. He turned it, and the door popped open with a resounding click. He nudged it open with his foot and dropped their kit bags just inside the door.

“Charming,” he said.

Lucy followed him inside. The room was smaller than she’d imagined — even smaller than her tiny room in the attic. There was just barely enough room to walk around the twin bed, which was fitted with a faded, brown, hand-made quilt. Matching nightstands adorned either side of the bed, and each was outfitted with a reading lamp and small bowls of lavender.

A fireplace stood at the foot of the bed, and its dusty mantle was lined with old, black and white photos of the town. An ancient, tarnished mirror hung above it, and Lucy stared at herself in the reflection.

Lockwood walked to the window and gave a curious peek outside. The night glittered back at him, and his eyes shone as he looked out at the town.

“Well Danny’s right about one thing,” he said simply. “There are quite a few ghosts out tonight. No sign of the so-called ‘Creeping Shadow’ though.”

“That’s not altogether surprising,” Lucy said.

Lockwood shrugged. “Maybe. But you never know. We can do all kinds of research tomorrow — I suspect the townsfolk will have quite a bit to say. In the meantime, we should probably get some sleep.” He stepped back from the window and ruffled through his bag on the floor, withdrawing a toothbrush and a set of pajamas. “Shall we?”

Lucy’s heart fluttered in her chest. “Of course,” she said quickly.

Lockwood stepped past her and into the hall, where he disappeared into the bathroom. She closed the door to their room behind him and locked it, that nervous feeling in her chest growing stronger. She pulled the over-sized t-shirt she always slept in out of her bag, suddenly aware of how ratty it was and how badly it probably needed a wash. Her pajama pants weren’t in much better shape. She changed quickly, feeling overly self-conscious about her choice of sleepwear.

Why should she care, anyways? She never cared when Lockwood saw her in the mornings — hair disheveled, teeth unbrushed, imprints from her pillow still on her cheek as she stumbled into the kitchen for tea and toast. This shouldn’t be any different.

There was a knock at the door, and Lucy opened the door to be greeted, unsurprisingly, by Lockwood. He held his suit folded neatly in his arms and had changed into a pair of neat white pajamas. “Bathroom is free,” he said, heading into the room. “You might want to get in there before George does. Or Kipps, god knows how long his nightly routine probably is. I imagine it takes a good amount of upkeep to prevent him from looking like a ghost himself every day.”

Lucy snorted. She gladly followed his advice and headed to brush her teeth — partially to get away from him, but also because she’d made the mistake of using the bathroom after George once, and it was safe to say it was not a mistake she was ever going to make again. Even the skull had wrinkled his nose at the odor, and he didn’t even have a sense of smell.

Teeth brushed, she pulled her hair up into a ponytail and headed back into the bedroom. Lockwood had started a small fire while she was gone, and had turned off the main lights in the room. His reading lamp was on, and he was tucked beneath the bed covers already and had his nose buried in a local newspaper. When he had acquired it, Lucy had no idea.

“Erm,” she started awkwardly. “Would you prefer it if I took the floor?”

Lockwood looked up at her from the newspaper and blinked. “What?”

“Would you prefer it if I took the floor?” she repeated, motioning to it stupidly. “I’m sure I could drag down a pillow and blanket or something.”

“What are you talking about?” Lockwood asked. “Why on earth would you sleep on the floor?”

“Well…” she trailed off, suddenly feeling incredibly stupid. “I just… wanted to make sure you’re comfortable, is all.”

“Why should I ever feel uncomfortable in your presence?” Lockwood asked. “Anyways, I hope you don’t mind, but I started a fire. It was feeling a bit brisk in here.” He folded the newspaper over and tossed it onto the nightstand. “No offense to Aldbury Castle, but its news is incredibly dull. They haven’t even reported on any of the hauntings. Their front page news story is about how some farmer’s sheep went missing.” He huffed. “What’s the point of even having a newspaper if you’re not going to talk about anything important?”

Lucy snorted, thankful for his change of topic. “So getting into it isn’t one of your goals, then?”

He grinned. “I never said that.”

Shaking her head, Lucy closed the bedroom door behind her and stiffly slipped into bed. She pulled the covers high up over herself and turned to face away from Lockwood. It was a twin, so there wasn’t exactly much room to spare, but all the same she put as much space between the two of them as possible.

She felt Lockwood move, and a moment later his light switched off. “Good night, Lucy,” he said softly.

“Good night, Lockwood.”

[lockmad]

I read a lot! But it's mostly fanfiction so when I'm talking to people and they ask “so what kind of books do you read?” I'm always stumbling over my words trying to think of the last ‘real’ book I’ve read so I don't have to say “oh mostly smut and a few fluffy lockyle fics”

[killerfrostisme]

A/N- I always thought that not knowing what happened directly after Lucy’s little announcement to leave the company was a crime against humanity, and recently with the release of the show, I have pretty much been brimming with inspiration and creative energy. So I thought to myself, why not put all that good stuff to good use instead of pining over existing Locklyle stories and watching all my favourite scenes from the show. I present to you an angst filled Locklyle story centred around the immediate aftermath of Lucy’s decision to leave the company in THB.

The italicised parts are taken directly from The Hollow Boy by Jonathan Stroud.

“-I’m resigning at once from Lockwood and Co.”

“So much for me enjoying this bloody cake,” said George.

The silence was deafening. And then everyone started clamouring in all at once. Well, by everyone she meant, George and Holly.

“Are you leaving because of me?” (Holly)

“Why are you leaving?” (George)

But she wasn’t listening or paying any heed to what they were saying. She had her eyes (and ears) set on only one person. And he was just staring at her with an unreadable expression, his eyes giving away nothing. She knew that ideally, she should have talked to him before she told the whole team, instead of suddenly springing it upon him. In a perfect situation that was the procedure followed in all agencies. But there was nothing ideal or perfect about the situation. In an ideal scenario, an employer would not be ready to give up their life for their employee, or the employee wouldn’t have lost control of their Talent to the point of almost endangering the employer’s life.

Suddenly, without warning-

“Why don’t we go for a walk, Lucy?” he asked, already getting up and moving to the hall, to get his coat. He said it in a not quite assertive manner, but definitely more of a statement than a question. She nodded, and followed him out, ignoring the accusatory and confused looks George was shooting at her and the downcast expression on Holly’s face.

It was a beautiful day outside, with the sun shining brightly, a rare occasion in dreary Britain. Clouds were gazing down prettily while birds were chirping. It seemed like a picture-perfect day for new beginnings.

But Lucy was not feeling it. Lockwood hadn’t even looked at her once, and was wordlessly walking next to her. Where they were going, she had no idea, she left that entirely up to him.

They reached the end of the road and took a sharp left, heading towards Arif's.

Tucked away in a little nook opposite Arif’s, squashed between a boutique and a pharmacy, there was a tiny, nondescript coffee shop called Jitterbug. It was an extremely small enterprise with barely enough space for a couple of tables and a counter. Yet, it was almost always packed. It served the best coffee Lucy had ever tasted. With a pang, she remembered she introduced Lockwood and George to it. They had spent a merry afternoon laughing as George tried to see how many ginger biscuits he could stuff into his mouth. Apparently, Lockwood was feeling nostalgic because without looking to see if she was following, he led her straight to it.

The bell jingled as they walked into the coffee shop, her nose breathing in the familiar smell of coffee and doughnuts. Lockwood seemed keen on snagging a table far away from the window, since he was leading her to the darkest corner of the place.

They sat down and ordered their drinks (black coffee for Lockwood and a caramel latte for Lucy) and she braced herself for the onslaught of questions that Lockwood would throw at her. Lockwood steepled his fingers over the table and gave her probably the most probing gaze he’d ever given.

“Why”

It was a simple question, yet so difficult to answer. There were so many layers in the answer, that she felt dizzy trying to unravel them all.

“My Talent is too strong, I can’t control it. I’ll put you all in danger if I-” she began.

“Rubbish.” he interrupted her, putting his hand up, palm facing her. “Please don’t insult my intelligence. You and I both know that’s not the reason. You’ve always been able to control your Talent before so why don’t you tell me what’s really going on?”

She stayed silent. The minutes that passed felt like hours. Their drinks arrived. She couldn’t tell him the truth, that she was petrified he was going to throw himself into death’s arms just to make sure that every part of her was safe and sound. She couldn’t tell him that deep down she had a feeling that the Fetch’s prophecy would come true, and he would die trying to save her. And the worst part was that he’d probably greet death like a long lost friend. She could not (would not!) let that happen. If that meant putting some distance between them, well so be it.

Even if it did feel as if her heart was tearing itself apart.

Lockwood sighed, and she was jolted back to the present. “Is this about Holly?” he said in a somewhat tired manner. “I thought things were improving, and I told you, you two complement each other.”

She felt a flash of annoyance flare up inside her. Why did everybody think that Holly was the only reason she was leaving? Granted, they (she) had caused the whole Aickmere’s devastation, but then everything that had to be yelled and screamed had already been done that dreadful night. Now, it was more of a quiet resignation. Something which everyone should be able to see, instead of asking her about it every two minutes.

“No,” she said evenly,“it’s not because of Holly.”

“Is it-” Lockwood began, somewhat hesitantly, “is it because of me?”

Well. That was unexpected. How on earth was she supposed to respond to a direct question like that?

“What makes you say that?” She said, taking a scalding hot sip of her drink. It burned the whole way through whilst going down her throat, but she relished the discomfort. It bought her time in trying to desperately think of an answer to his not-at-all-loaded question.

“You’ve been avoiding me, ever since that Fetch incident.” he said, looking at her intently, gauging her reaction. “You might think that I haven’t noticed, but I have. And if I’m deducing right, and if Holly is not the reason you’re leaving, then it must be something that happened there and it’s somehow related to me. So, why don’t you do us both a favour and tell me what it is? Because Luce, whatever it is I promise I’m going to help you. But I need you to open up for that.” He finished his little speech, by reaching out over the table and clasping both her hands, tightly in his.

Okay, she hadn’t expected that. She had expected him to charm her into staying or to grill her until she gave a satisfactory answer (which granted, he was kind of doing) but she had not expected him to establish physical contact with her, even if it was just holding her hands. Because that was something Lockwood seldom did. Everytime he came close to it, he always drew back and pulled away.

“No,” she lied, pulling her hands from his grasp. Touching him was dangerous territory. She might crumble and start blubbering like a moron about all her fears revolving around his death. “It’s not related to you either. I told you, it’s my Talent. It’s too strong. You saw what happened at Mrs. Wintergarden’s house. My Talent was controlling me, not the other way around. I am scared about what could happen. It’s best if I remove myself from the company, and not endanger your life…or the lives of others.” she finished, grabbing her drink and gulping it down in one smooth sitting.

Lockwood listened to her monologue in silence, his face becoming stonier by each word she uttered. “What happened in Mrs Wintergarden’s house was not because your Talent had all the power and you didn’t, it’s because you prioritised your empathy for the ghost over anything else. That is something that we can help you with, Lockwood and Co. We’ll always have your back and we’ll make sure you don’t go trying to talk to ghosts again. Leaving the company is not going to solve it.”

“At least I won’t put your lives at risk.”

Lockwood threw his hands up in exasperation. “Fine, you quit,” he said, “but what happens after that? Will you give up this profession altogether or join another team and as you so eloquently put it, ‘endanger their lives?’” he asked, a sharp edge to his voice.

“I won’t join another team.” she said, massaging her temples, “I’ll freelance.”

“ I see,” he said coolly. “And when do you propose to leave?”

“As soon as possible.”

“Well, I’ll grant you your wish then,” he said in a slightly scathing voice, getting up from the table, leaving his coffee untouched, “you can leave and we won’t bother you again Lucy. Good luck with everything.” He turned around and walked out of the coffee shop, after stopping at the counter to pay for their order.

Lucy sat at the table, feeling like her whole world had just been turned upside down. She felt her emotions bubble to the surface and closed her eyes, finally letting the first tear fall.

A/N- Thanks for reading and hope you liked it! Posted the same on Fanfiction.net under the story Moments in Time, so come say hi if you want:)

[beautifulmakkaris]

please drop me your l&co fic recs 🥹

[paranorahjones]

New fic coming soon ;)

[jackie5656]

Here to show off my lock screen regarding my latest obsession. Feel free to use it as your own. If you have any requests or want to be part of a potential Taglist let me know! Also, if you simply want to rant abt the show spam that shit.

[bloodcanbehot]

I decided to change the face claim for a new oc of mine and scrolled like an hour and a half on tumblr to get gifs of her, I'm tired

[solticeenery]

"Lockwood!" Lucy screams when a big grey, black and white ball of fur rolls down the stairs, kind of squeaks and rushes between her feet somewhere under the couch.

"What's wrong, Luce?" Anthony asks leaving his sister's room and closing the door behind him.

"What. Is. This?" she hisses pointing in direction of living room.

"What exactly?" Lockwood smiles cautiously not knowing what to expect. They are officially dating for a year now, but he's still confused and a bit scared, when Lucy is so angry. He slowly approaches her, keeping the distance between them. Just in case Lucy decides to throw something like she sometimes does when she's pissed. And she definitely looks like that right now. "If you... Specify the problem, we can come up with some kind of solution."

Lucy sighs heavily, trying to calm down, and reminds herself, that Lockwood isn't always the one and only reason of every single disaster happening here. George can be responsible for it not less than Anthony himself. Sometimes it's just Kipps with his concerning but harmless sense of humour. Maybe there's apocalypse coming, because Holly suddenly decided to make fun of them. There are variations of what exactly happened. That's why Lucy takes a deep breath and starts again.

"Anthony, my dear, why is there a raccoon in our house?" she definitely doesn't have any strength left to control the way she addresses Lockwood, when everyone is in the kitchen and can hear every single word. Excluding Holly, she's probably in the office sorting some papers.

"A what..?" Lockwood is obviously startled. "Luce, I'm not sure if I heard you loud and clear, could you please repeat?"

"Sure!" nervous laughter escapes her lungs. "There is a raccoon in our house and I'd like to know, why is it there. To be more specific, under the couch in living room."

"Nope, I heard everything right on first try, a raccoon, ha-ha, okay, whatever, w h a t. T h e. F u c k ?! I beg your pardon but I don't have other words right now?"

"Don't worry, hon, me too" Lucy smiles, relieved, that Lockwood has nothing to do with this incident, and comes to him just to snug in his arms for a second as an apology for shouting at the most precious person in her entire life. He holds her gently, buries his face against her neck and takes a slow deep breath, presumably processing the existence of raccoon on Portland Row 35. Not an easy type of acceptance, but they don't have a choice. First and foremost because Lucy can already guess, whose brilliant idea it was. Flo (please burn in hell) Bones.

No, she does like Flo when she is helpful, but otherwise Lucy prefers to avoid her as much as possible. Mostly because she doesn't like relic-men whoever they are and however useful they can be. She already learned that it's easier when relic-girl stays out of her sight and doesn't bother her with some stupid jokes and meaningful gazes. Lucy has had enough. The Skull overdid all possible norms in first months of her and Lockwood dating.

"So... Who are we interrogating now? George? Quill? Holly?" Lucy tilts her head and rests it on Lockwood's shoulder, admiring their perfect height difference.

"Uh... Whatever you wanna ask, I don't know anything?" sound of Holly's voice makes her shiver a bit and turn around. And see that their assistant just came to work. "Sorry, I know, I'm late, I..."

"It's alright, Holly," Lockwood says softly and calmingly squeezes Lucy's shoulder. "Just don't enter the living room until I allow it, okay?"

"Okay?" Holly is obviously confused and looks at the room uncertainly. "May I ask why?"

"There is a raccoon under the couch," Lucy answers and an expression of pure shock and disbelief on Holly's face is just adorable and worth every inch of this ball of fur.

"A what now? Raccoon?! How?!!"

"If only we knew. But I have an idea," Lockwood giggles and raises his voice. "George! Could you please come for a second."

The chatter in the kitchen suddenly stops and not long after George appears in the hallway with a mug of tea. Lucy can spot Kipps behind him, sipping his morning coffee and definitely eavesdropping.

"Morning," George yawns. "What has already happened?"

"A raccoon happened!" Holly answers instead of Lockwood. "Who left the backdoor opened? You? Or Quill?" Kipps freezes. They all once saw, how angry Holly can be and how dangerous for everyone else it is. Enough to say, that noone wanted to be the target of Holly's anger. It was scarier than all types of ghosts together in one room.

George blinks couple times. Looks at the couch. Frowns, when he hears some suspicious noises underneath it. And suddenly bursts into laughter.

"Oh, you mean Charcoal!" the noises stop, and a small black nose shows up between two blankets, sniffing. "Come here, boy, it's okay." The raccoon rushes into George's open arms, hides its fluffy head under his chin and silently cries. "Yeah, yeah, I know, she can be rude, don't blame her."

"I bet you won't survive the night," Quill shakes his head. "Either Holly or Lucy are gonna kill you."

"Nah, c'mon, Charcoal is too cute, who's gonna look after him, if I'm gone?"

"Flo," Kipps shrugs. "She brought this fur ball here 'till tomorrow morning, and I'm looking forward to her taking this monster away."

"So relic-girl it is," Holly sighs, rolls her eyes and goes to the kitchen to make some tea for them. And Lucy can already guess on that annoyed-angry look on Holly's face that neither Kipps nor George get their mugs refilled. Not as if it bothers them. Not as if Lucy or Lockwood want to disagree with their assistant.

"So... Are we done for now?" George asks burying his face in raccoon's fur.

"Ew, how can you do that?" Lucy grimaces. "He probably was digging in the trash lately. I wouldn't be surprised I mean, it's Flo we're talking about."

"I bathed him this morning! He's clean!"

"You know what, Lockwood," Holly says coming back to the doorway, "I'm cleaning your bathroom with bleach and vinegar today. Or better. George, you are making it, I don't want to know where this fluffy devil was and what could it bring on him."

"Agreed," Lockwood chuckles and turns to Lucy. "We have to meet the client today, don't you mind if I use your bathroom? I don't want to risk my pretty face getting peeled off after Charcoal's presence."

"Oh, sure," Lucy smiles. "I don't want you to risk it either."

She expects George to say something to it, something sarcastic and funny, but the silence is so loud and Lockwood's grin is so sly that it takes some time untill she understands what did her friends hear in these words.

"Yeah, take your time I suppose," George waves his hand. Lucy can see Kipps biting his lips in desperate attempt not to die from laughter. And Holly just sighs heavily.

"I expect both of you to get down to the front door at the noon. Maybe earlier if you manage it, but not later."

Lucy narrows her eyes ready to answer something sarcastic but Lockwood just pulls her upstairs, winking to the others. As soon as they close the door to her room, Lockwood throws his arms around her waist and gently pushes his forehead against hers.

"You can't kill them, Luce."

"Yeah, yeah, as if you would ever allow it."

"Or injure them in any way."

"Not even nudge someone?"

Lockwood frowns, thinking. "George. For the raccoon. He deserves it. But noone else."

Lucy wants to remind him, that he also doesn't like whenever their friends are joking about their relationship. But his soft warm lips meet hers, and in an instant the world stops existing. They won't be ready at the noon, of course Holly understood it.

The last thought Lucy can catch before loosing herself in Lockwood's arms is that maybe — just maybe — she should thank Flo for bringing Charcoal at their place. Because she definitely heard the most awaited words whispered against her lips.

"I think my last name suits you better."

And Lucy can deny it.

It surely does.

[plattypie-humano]

When you have a Quill Kipps and Jessica Lockwood fic that your really close to finishing but cannot bring yourself to write the rest even though it’s getting close to the point it will delete and you don’t want your hard work to go to waste:

[icequeenjules26]

A few days ago, I mentioned to my boyfriend that Lockwood & Co. was based on a book series that I noticed but never bought when I was younger. He didn't respond with more than a grunt.

Today when I mentioned thinking about going to order them online he casually answered "already did, they should be here next week"

This must be what love is????

[silver-scripts]

You say my name and everything just stops

pairing: Lockwood & Lucy

summary: When Lockwood gets home late from a job, he finds Lucy asleep in the library.Or the one where Lockwood walks in on Lucy having a sex dream about him

word count: 1.6k

crossposted: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50742568/chapters/129153598

Lockwood felt like death as he walked up the steps to 35 Portland Row. His entire body ached and was covered in dust. His palms were rubbed raw and scraped in places, and his legs felt utterly like lead beneath him.

More accurately, he felt like shit.

The solo job hadn’t gone well, that was for sure, but at least he’d finished it. London had one less ghost, and Lockwood & Co would have one more paycheck. So there was that.

With a sigh, he opened the front door and closed it silently behind him. It was nearing two-thirty already, and he was sure everyone else was fast asleep by now. Best not to wake them, he thought, as he deposited his rapier in the umbrella stand by the door and slipped off his jacket, hanging it neatly on its hook. He took a moment to systematically roll up his sleeves before heading for the stairs.

He paused when he noticed the light coming from the library.

Soft on his feet, he slipped into the room, moving silently in case George was deep in research. At such a late hour, there was no telling how much clothing George currently had on. Once, Lockwood had startled him in the midst of his midnight studies and received a full view of his friend’s ass, and he wasn’t keen on repeating the experience.

Inside the library, the embers of a fire that had burnt out hours ago were still glowing and clinging to life. The reading lamp on the side table was also lit, casting a warm haze across the room. Lucy was sprawled across the couch, and a novel lay haphazardly on the floor, as if she had fallen asleep reading it. A small smile grazed Lockwood’s lips at the sight.

He would never stop being glad that Lucy felt so comfortable here. He still didn’t know much about the house that she had grown up in, but he’d gathered enough to understand that it wasn’t a home. Not truly. And not in the way Portland Row had since become for her.

And, selfishly, Lockwood was glad for his own reasons. Portland Row hadn’t felt much like a home for him in years, yet Lucy had brought a life back into the house that hadn’t been there since Jessica had died. Him, George, Lucy… they’d become a family.

Smiling softly, Lockwood bent down and picked the book off of the floor, flattening the pages that had crumpled in the fall. On quick inspection, it was some kind of romance, and Lockwood rolled his eyes as he placed it on the coffee table.

He walked to the windows and pulled the curtains closed to block out the dawn light that would be coming soon. He knew Lucy hadn’t slept much lately — really, none of them had, with the amount of cases they’d been taking on. He was almost relieved to see her sleeping, and hoped she’d be able to sleep through the night without interruption.

Lockwood grabbed the blanket from his reading chair, and, holding his breath, draped it gently over Lucy’s sleeping form. He took a silent step backwards, and then another, and turned to retreat to his bedroom for the night.

Lucy shifted, and Lockwood paused.

She mumbled something in her sleep, and her forehead creased. A soft noise caught in the back of her throat, and Lockwood felt himself take an instinctual step back towards her, afraid suddenly that she might be having another nightmare.

It wasn’t uncommon for any of them — himself and George included. It came with the job description. And there was an unspoken rule that none of them would bring it up if they awoke to each other’s screams in the middle of the night. But god, how his heart burned whenever he heard Lucy’s cries. It took everything in him not to run up to her attic room and wake her up, but he knew she’d have his head for it.

In front of him now, Lucy muttered something else unintelligible as she rolled slightly to the side. Her breath fell out in a shallow gasp, and color flooded her face. Lockwood’s chest tightened in concern.

And then Lucy let out a small moan.

Time seemed to stop as Lockwood’s brain caught up with the present and he realized this was a very different type of dream. He stumbled backwards and his face burned with something between panic and embarrassment. Lucy let out another quiet moan, and Lockwood felt like he couldn’t get out of the library fast enough. He wouldn’t allow himself to think about anything else but his escape plan — that was what he was good at, right? It was what allowed them all to succeed on so many jobs, and truly, was this any different?

Anyways, it was easier to focus on fleeing. It stopped his mind from wandering to god knows where else, or from focusing too hard on how badly he wanted to hear her make those sounds in a different context.

“Lockwood.”

He froze at the edge of the hall.

She’d said his name thickly, like she’d just woken up, and he was horrified to have been caught. Horrified that she’d get the wrong idea and think he was watching or something. He could feel the heat in his cheeks spreading to the tips of his ears as he turned, ready to face the look of accusation in her eyes.

But Lucy was still asleep.

Lockwood stood there, still as a statue, mind racing, struggling to understand because he’d sworn she’d said his name, sworn—

Lucy moaned again, and her breathing came out shallow and fast.

Lockwood blanched. His face drained of color, and just as quickly flooded again until every pore on his cheeks was burning. His mouth hung open at an odd angle, and he couldn’t slow his thoughts, couldn’t slow the unfortunate arousal growing within him.

If Lucy was (presumably) having a sex dream, and had said his name in the middle of it?

Lockwood’s heart lurched. He felt lightheaded suddenly, and entirely off kilter. He was torn between feeling sick to his stomach and incredibly turned on, which was an odd mix to say the least. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since the moment she’d walked in the door for the interview, but he’d always assumed it was one-sided, or at least had held his tongue regardless, because he liked what they had and he knew he would fuck it up.

And god, was he holding his tongue now, because all he wanted was to wake her up and ask what she was dreaming about so he could recreate it in real life. Do anything just to hear her moan his name for real, to hear her shallow breathing and know it was because of him and not just a dream version of him.

How many times had he quietly imagined what it’d be like to hear her like this? Had he silently cursed himself for allowing his mind to even stray that far?

He white-knuckled the door frame, afraid he’d lose whatever ounce of self control he had left. He knew he couldn’t - shouldn’t - wouldn’t do anything. Because everything else aside, what if it was just a mistake? God knows he’d had his fair share of sex dreams before about people he didn’t desire that way. What if this was the same for her?

The thought hurt worse than the idea of her never thinking of him that way at all.

He’d never gotten around to switching off the reading lamp, and in its glow he could see the crimson color of Lucy’s cheeks as she dreamed, the hazy movement of her eyes behind her eyelids. She looked almost angelic in the soft light. She was so perfect.

But he couldn’t keep staring at her like this. Besides being a complete invasion of her privacy, he didn’t trust himself not to do anything rash.

With an effort akin to escaping ghost lock, he tore his gaze away from her and forced himself to leave the room, forced himself to not stop until he’d entered the safety of his bedroom and had closed the door tightly behind him.

He didn’t realize he was holding in his breath until it all came loose at once, letting out a heavy sigh as he leaned against the back of his door frame. He cursed everything — himself for not doing anything, himself for having wanted to do anything at all, Lucy for having that bloody dream, the ghost at his job tonight for being a royal prick and keeping him out this late anyways.

He dragged himself over to his bed and dropped on it dramatically and without pausing to remove his suit. He stared blankly at the ceiling, eyes unmoving, as a million different unholy thoughts flashed through his mind. None of them helped the hard-on he had going on, and as much as he wanted to, it felt almost disrespectful to do anything about it.

Christ, he was down bad.

He pulled a pillow over his face and tried to get the way Lucy had moaned his name out of his mind.

But he couldn’t, because really, how could he?

In his head, he charged back into the living room and pulled her off of the couch so he could kiss her roughly, and she would grab fistfuls of his hair and make a sound like he’d heard her make in her sleep, and he—

Lockwood groaned.

It was going to be a long night.

[shizuoi]

tinnitus

l&co casefic (cot3) | m | ch 5/7

And Lucy knows it was always going to come down to this. The inevitable doesn't just go away if you avoid thinking about it; it lingers in the back of your mind, a quiet but aching reminder every year. Things can't stay this way forever.

She's 21, young enough to still get IDed at the corner shop, but old enough to know her Talents are—and have always been—running on borrowed time. It's a fact of life.

That doesn''t make it any less terrifying.

--

Lockwood & Co. take on their biggest case yet. Or, Lucy, Anthony, and George face ghosts, their inner demons, and the perils of growing up.

(link in reblog)

[historyofshipping]

Chapters: 22/22 Fandom: Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud, Lockwood & Co. (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lucy Carlyle/Anthony Lockwood, Lucy Carlyle & George Cubbins | George Karim & Anthony Lockwood, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Quill Kipps/Original Male Character(s) Characters: The Skull (Lockwood & Co.), Flo Bones, Mr Jacobs, Quill Kipps, Montagu Barnes, Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Alternate Universe - Magic, Gender Disguise, Safe for Pandas, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Bisexual Anthony Lockwood, cactus club, Overuse of italics, idiots in love (eventually), Gay Quill Kipps, Slow Burn, author knows nothing about swords, Flirting with sharp objects, Awkward Boners, Miscommunication, Author promises a happy ending, First Kiss, Sharing a Bed, Marriage of Convenience, Lucy has a lot of trauma, Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Soulmates Series: Part 1 of TFATF Universe Summary:

In steampunk London, indentured servant Lucas Carlyle has a secret. Lucas is really Lucy, a magical user in a world where it's dangerous (and unheard of) for women to possess magic.

Enter Lockwood, an eccentric detective and wealthy magical who buys out Lucas' contract and frees him. Not realizing Lucas is really Lucy, he and George invite "him" to live with them and work for Lockwood & Co.

How long will Lucy be able to keep her secrets? And what happens if it's spilled?

Shenanigans occur. Lots of friends make appearances. Oh and Skull will join in an most unexpected way.

🌵🪿FINALLY FINISHED 🪿🌵