doctoranon

[doctoranon]

Lucy Carlyle & Anthony Lockwood Death is Coming, Lockwood & Co.

[doctoranon]

One thing I loved about Lockwood and Co. is just. The girls are pro brute force and the guys are all about proper technique. (Not all girls and not all guys but like, yeah).

Like it's Lockwood and Kipps that are finicky about proper stances and rapier technique (and iirc they both fenced (and Flo kicked their butts cause she's a legend)) and then there's Lucy and Kat who are just like "Look at that conveniently placed heavy object. Imma hit someone with that."

And it's great to me because I feel like in most works of fiction girls have to have exceptional technique and training to be on par with guys in fights, and then Stroud just flips the script. It's great. As a girl I appreciate other brute force girls.

[doctoranon]

I finally read the Screaming Staircase book and while it's been fun to compare and contrast it against the 3 episode Netflix arc, there is one book moment that is clearly superior.

At the end of episode, when Skull speaks to Lucy for the first time. Lucy is so overcome by the psychic connection that she full on faints requiring George and Lockwood to carry her upstairs. I'd accepted that until I read the novel in which Lucy hears this gross this ghost man whisper weird shit from within his glass prison about life and death and whatever. And Luce - who'd just run downstairs to grab extra treats for their impromptu celebration - says "nah I'm not dealing with this today" closes the jars speaking valve and leaves.

I will always support Lucy Carlyle being That Crazy Bitch and I love her So Much.

[doctoranon]

lucy carlyle would’ve rocked tights under denim shorts with doc martens and you literally cannot convince me otherwise

[doctoranon]

Has this been done? Is it correct?

[doctoranon]

[doctoranon]

For today's tag, may I present: The REAL ghostbusters 😄

[doctoranon]

Is it me or does Jupiter in this also look like calcifer from howls moving castle

[doctoranon]

ugh. Every character in Lockwood & Co. are the biggest losers you’ve ever seen. They’re the coolest guys around. They hate each others guts. They love each other more than the world. They’re polar opposites. They’re the exact same. They’re literally unhinged. They’re the only sane ones for miles. They’re entirely incompetent. They’re the best ones at their job. They clash on the regular. They complete each other.

[doctoranon]

Barnes: If you two are done flirting

Lucy: I was not flirting

Lockwood: I was

[doctoranon]

Shamelessly reblogging because said 1920s prohibition era fic (found above) is set to be a wild ride and is written by such an amazing author, and as you can see above artist.

Shamelessly promoting my 1920s prohibition era fic (found here) by sharing my scribbles of George and Flo to go with it.

#bugs doodles #lockwood and co #lockwood & co #karbones #george karim #flo bones #barrels and bootlegging

[doctoranon]

tiktok is such an awful app, it's almost designed to feed you misinformation and expose you to insane discourse. unlike beloved tumblr, the app that feeds me misinformation and exposes me to insane discourse

[doctoranon]

Love how tumblr has its own folk stories. Yeah the God of Arepo we’ve all heard the story and we all still cry about it. Yeah that one about the woman locked up for centuries finally getting free. That one about the witch who would marry anyone who could get her house key from her cat and it’s revealed she IS the cat after the narrator befriends the cat.

[doctoranon]

Reblog if you’re a true 90s kid and you remember this tumblr

[doctoranon]

I'm curious. Reblog this if you know how to cook

I don’t even care if it’s macaroni, ramen or those little bowls you stick in the microwave. Please, I need reassurance that most of the population on tumblr WOULDN’T STARVE TO DEATH if their parents couldn’t fix them food or they couldn’t go out to eat. 

[doctoranon]

can someone please be proud of me like fuck I’m trying

[doctoranon]

If I was Jesus I would’ve simply said no dad this is your dream