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archiveoftara · 10 months

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I would like a Lockwood and Co request, if you like to do it of course . One stormy night, the reader breaks into Lockwood’s house (I see the reader as being jewelry thief or something close to that but she also works as a waitress we’re all the wealthy people go and there she gets all the inside scoop and secrets of different people) and she never been seen or caught before and she thought nobody was home but Lockwood came home early and they fight and she escapes but she dropped something and Lockwood immediately knows who she is (you can say that they are acquaintances) and he confronts her a few days later (also I see the reader as being kind of like Robin Hood, the whole giving back to the poor). Thank you

Hii. I'm sorry for being late and I know this is trash. This is total trash. But here we are.

"Have you seen my engagement ring?"

Spoke Charlotte, a petite woman with fair complexion raised her hand, pointing a big chunky diamond ring to her friends.

"David must love you alot." One of her friend said in envy. Looking carefully at her ring

"Oh, he's the best." Charlotte said with dreamy eyes. "Shit, I'm late. I have to meet David's family, we're going to get my wedding dress. I'll see you guys later" she runs off in a haste.

"Do you know David cheated on her again?" One of her friend chuckled as she left.

"What?"

"Yes! This time with his assistant. I mean he's only marrying her because she's pretty. Just a trophy wife"

"He's got good money, I heard, and lives in a big house in Central London." The friend whispered to the group.

"Their relationship is so toxic. He cheated on her so many times I can't even keep count."

"Poor Charlotte. I feel so bad for her." Said another girl in mockery.

……………………………………………......................

"Another theft in Central London." George reads the paper. "No traces of the theif found."

"George, I don't need this kind of negativity early in the morning." Lockwood yawns.

"I think we should be more careful. Put more locks in the house." George exclaimed.

Lockwood ignores him and make himself a cuppa. He doesn't bother as George loves to take unnecessary precautions.

"When is your train George?" Lucy enters the room.

"Late afternoon."

"Good. I'll leave with you then."

Lucy and George both left to visit their family for this weekend. George went to sidcup to meet his grandma and Lucy went to her town to meet Norrie, which leaves Anthony to fend for himself.

Anthony spent his afternoon in the library. When the clock struck six he abruptly rose up from the couch.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit. I'm fucking late." He runs to get dressed and leave for his appointment.

After the Combe Carey Hall case, Lockwood and Co is getting it's well deserved recognition. They recently solved a big case and the agent was supposed to be meeting the client for it's due payment.

Lockwood enters the posh restaurant of Soho and catch his breath. His wrist watch screamed at him "congrats, you saved the day. You're ten minutes early"

"Reservation for two." He said to the hostess.

After a moment, he finds himself sitting in a corner of the restaurant, waiting for his client.

"Thanks for waiting Mr. Lockwood." A gentleman in his 60s said. He was in a business suit and had a warm smile.

"It's my pleasure sir. Please don't be sorry." Lockwood remarked.

"I can't thank you enough. You and your team did a splendid job. Now I can safely sell the house." He sighed.

After some conversations and exchange of a handsome cheque, the businessman talks about the recent news.

"Have you heard about the thefts in your neighborhood, Mr. Lockwood? You can't never be safe these days." With wide eyes he whispered.

"Yeah.." Lockwood lightly nods.

"Your coffee sir."

"Thank you" Lockwood gave a radiant smile which causes the poor waitress to spill some coffee all over his lap.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry sir." She immediately takes out her pink handkerchief.

"It's okay. I'm fine." Lockwood went to the restroom to clean himself up.

The meeting went well but Lockwood found himself standing under the restaurant shade. It was raining heavily and the fellow agent forgot to bring an umbrella in hurry.

He sighed to himself and took a step when he felt a shadow beside him. He glanced up to find the same waitress "who spilled coffee", holding the umbrella for him.

"I'm sorry for what happened back there Lockwood." Her face went deep hue of red.

"As I said before, it's okay y/n." He gave his signature smile. "I hope you're okay?"

She nodded "I am. Take this. You can have it." She handed him the umbrella and fled inside the restaurant.

………………………………………………..................

It's a stormy sunday night which means the weekend is almost over. George and Lucy still haven't came back and Lockwood was out for a case.

The person checked the neighborhood before unlocking the door. She drew her mask closer towards her face.

"Empty house, dark night, perfect time for some stealing."

She made her way upstairs, looking for anything valuable. Something which will get pay her heavy price in the black market.

She notice how the house is quite old and the wooden floor creaked everytime she takes a step.

"Gotta work faster. Got no time to waste" she whispered to herself.

She snooped around the house for awhile. She takes the stairs having no idea of someone standing at the foot of the staircase.

"Can I offer you a cup of tea while you ransack my house?"

She froze at her spot. A flashlight pointed at her body. She squint her eyes to look at the owner.

"One lump or two?" Lockwood smirked.

She wished the earth would just split open and swallow her up but it was too late.

She threw a vase at him and ran upstairs. There's no way to escape. She have to think quickly.

She spin around and threw a punch at Lockwood. He dodged, throwing a kick on her leg. She grunts but doesn't back off so easily. She throws a book at him which hits his head.

She pushed him before making an escape but Lockwood punched her in the face which caused her mask to falter. He gets a look at her eyes but before he could react she runs away from the building, breaking a window in the process.

He pants for a good minute before his eyes fall on a familiar hanky.

…………………………………………….......................

Few days later, the agent made up his mind to meet someone at Soho. He entered the restaurant searching for those familiar eyes he saw a few nights ago.

"Welcome Mr. Lockwood, what can I get you?" The girl cheerfully asked him.

"I came to return you this." He pulls out a pink hanky. The girl was too stunned to speak (you see what I did there 😏) ,for a moment her eyes widened.

She quickly pulls him to the back alley.

"What do you want?" She snapped.

"Why are you doing this?" Lockwood glared.

"None of your concern." She spun on her heels when Lockwood said "I can turn you to the police."

She squinted "what will you gain from this?"

"It doesn't matter." Lockwood smirkes.

She shook her head in disbelief. She suddenly got fire in her eyes.

"I hate you. I hate people like you. You people think you can buy anything with money. You treat other people like trash and then pretend to be perfect. You guys take advantage of innocent people. You guys are horrible."

"Robbery doesn't make you look any better."

"At least I don't pretend to be a saint. Hiding behind a shadow, make someone else do the dirty work."

"You will pay for this."

"I dare you Lockwood. All the best getting me to the police"

The agent stood dumbfounded, looking at the girl retreating the alleyway.

"Why is she not scared of the police?"

……………………………………………….................

Lockwood was waiting behind a tree. He was curious about the girl. He decided to follow her and get more evidence against her. After waiting for two hours with a grumbling stomach (as it was near dinner time) she finally got off work.

He saw her taking the dark alley which leads to Thames.

He followed her silently. After few minutes, he see her entering a slum. He was confused.

"What is she doing here?"

He sees her knocking someone's door. He hides behind a wall.

"Oh my! Y/n How have you been dear?" The grandma pulls her into a hug.

"I'm doing okay. Granny, I got some medicine for Josh. Here" She hands her a brown package.

"Y/n dear, How can I repay your kindness? I can't even afford to take care of my grandson." She cried.

"Please don't cry granny. Here are some money for his treatment and also for food. You don't worry yourself, I'll take care of him." She mumbled. "I'll see you next week. Bye"

Lockwood was shocked. He followed her everyday. See her knocking at different doors, getting them food, money, medicines, clothes, whatever they are in need.

Every other day, there would be news of robbery but she never used a single penny on herself. She would spend those money on people in need. The whole scenario gave an idea to Lockwood. He couldn't help but to respect her. He felt extremely guilty for the way he treated her but he didn't know how to apologise to her.

After few weeks of dwelling, Lockwood finally gathered some courage and visits her.

"Now what do you want?" She glares.

"I came to apologise. I'm sorry for judging you before knowing the truth."

She furrow her brows in confusion.

"I know the truth, Y/n. I know how you steal from others just to give it back to the poor. I know your intentions are pure but there are other ways you can help them."

"Excuse me, Why do you care?" She hissed.

"Because I..I want to help you. Not in stealing but giving you a proper job. With better wages. You can't rob people like this, not every rich person is an asshole"

"But they deserve it" she muttered.

He sighed. "I know how you feel but two wrongs doesn't make one right. Here's my card. Give it a thought."

She stared at the agent leaving her in the alleyway.

*Two months later*

Ding dong

"GEORGE, GET THE DAMN DOOR."

"This is the third time I'm telling you I'M BUSY FOR GOD'S SAKE."

Lockwood huffs and gets the door. He freeze for a second when his eyes meets those (your eye color) eyes.

The girl awkwardly shifts her weight under his gaze. She clears her throat.

"Someone said I can ask here for help" she peeks at him. Lockwood grins.

"Welcome to Lockwood and Co"

#anthony bloody lockwood #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x reader #locknation #fanfic #requests are open #reqs open #i know its trash #please forgive me

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ugh-yoongi · 9 months

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park jimin ✰ a 90s & early 2000s playlist (3/7)

01. blu cantrell - hit 'em up style (oops) // 02. blaque - as if // 03. marcy playground - sex & candy // 04. spice girls - who do you think you are // 05. sir mix-a-lot - baby got back // 06. britney spears - oops!...i did it again // 07. aqua - barbie girl // 08. jojo - too little, too late // 09. george michael - freedom! '90 // 10. brandy and monica - the boy is mine // 11. hole - celebrity skin // 12. blondie - maria // 13. bell biv devoe - poison // 14. alicia keys - fallin' // 15. tlc - creep // 16. mariah carey - heartbreaker (feat. jay-z) // 17. cascada - everytime we touch // 18. christina aguilera - genie in a bottle // 19. quad city dj's - c'mon n' ride it (the train) // 20. 112 - peaches and cream

please feel free to reblog & share your own choices! ✌️

#this one is very important to me please praise it #jimin #bts #bts 90s playlists #pjm

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im-quite-happy-44 · 3 months

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salt, silver & iron... act one, part two masterlist

10th February 2024 12:01am

The lift dinged, and I could hear a low whistle. "Straight into the office." They said, glasses reflecting the tall windows on floor twenty. "That's a classy move."

They were absolutely right. The open-plan space was the classiest I had ever seen, by far. A little divider in a straight little pattern matched the lamps, and the table legs : all silver.

"This is Sir John Fairfax's office." (He wore a suit, and a rapier hung from the top of his leg. Lockwood.) No shit, Captain Obvious. It's on the top floor, isn't it?

"This doesn't make sense. John Fairfax doesn't need us. He's famous, he's rich. He built Fairfax Iron-" He looked ready to go on but the other man interrupted before he could.

"He built this whole building." It was his foot (and longer strides) which reached the rug beneath the seats in the middle of the floor first.

"Don't you think it's a bit grim that -" Her steps were light, even on the hard wooden floor of Sir John Fairfax's office. None of the metal on her belt jingled as she walked. She was silent. Unnoticeable. "-someone's made this much money off the problem?"

"I deserve something for keeping the world safe at night." Sir John Fairfax turned out to be right behind them. They swung around, the person I was half sure was Lockwood in the middle. "Don't I?"

"Oh God, I'm so sorry." Lucy something? (I should've checked the files.)

"No, you're right, it is grim." He sighed, staring at them. "The problem has disfigured the whole world." Then, in the same tone, "You can come out now, Niki."

I pulled away from my hiding place. Lockwood took in his stride the fact there was a hidden spy there the whole time (the girl looked a little shocked, and if the other was much surprised he hid it quite well, just looking the slightest... resigned) and held out his hand.

"A pleasure. To meet you, sir."

John took his hand with small distaste.

"Anthony Lockwood." Eh, guessed. "Ah, George Karim and Lucy Carlyle." He said, nodding his head to each of them, respectively. "We are Lockwood & Co."

"Ah, of course." (He already knew they were coming, DEPRAC had warned him.) "The infamous." Lockwood puffed up a little -- perhaps he thought that was a good thing. "Well, take a seat. Under the sprinklers."

Lockwood looked up and laughed a little -- just to be polite, I guessed. He seemed to be the face -- and voice -- of Lockwood & Co. Makes sense.

༻🕱༺

"I have to say, we didn't expect to be dealing with you personally when we answered your ad." Says Lockwood, after they had all sat down on the one sofa (indeed beneath the sprinklers).

"We know." I said, standing straight beside Fairfax's chair (eyes turned to me as I had not yet spoken). I waved vaguely at Lockwood's crisp suit and tie. "You're underdressed."

Fairfax smiled underneath his hand (his eyes barely crinkled, but I could tell). He carried on. "It's a delicate situation." A pause. "Best handled discreetly." I could see Lockwood filing away that information -- putting together the pieces. I felt a little like he was the kind of person to be paid for their silence. "I have decided to... let go of a few properties, including Combe Carey Hall in Berkshire.

"Nice enough place, but it has a rather stubborn collection of visitors."

Eleanor brought a water jug and five cups to the little coffee table in the middle of the seats.

"Something I've worked very hard to keep out of the papers and about which my prospective buyer knows nothing."

I thanked Eleanor quietly, eyes still on the conversation.

"So you need it made safe before the buyer visits." (It wasn't a question, rather a confirmation.) Lucy's voice was soft and light, and didn't ring out across the room in quite the same way as Lockwood or Fairfax's did. The slightest bit of firmness with.. curiosity -- I must admit I'm not completely used to that tone, but I can spot the lilt.

Fairfax didn't smile. "Exactly. And I cannot risk damage, so there can be no flares or explosives."

As Fairfax continued, looking at Lockwood, I saw Lucy and George share glances. (Were they dependent on explosives? I hope not, didn't they burn a house down with a flare? That would certainly be a bummer).

"It's a dangerous job, to be done quickly and under the radar." He narrowed his eyes. It was time to hear the pitch. "I'm getting quotes from every significant outfit in London. So, to be frank, the only way an agency of your stature could get it is by underbidding."

I could see protectiveness brewing behind Lockwood's eyes. Strange, Lockwood was someone I felt I knew, perhaps in a past life. Maybe he was just easy to read. "Our service is just as good as our larger competitors, and we don't need to chase down cut rate jobs." Eh. No sense of smartness could hide that big of a feint.

"You lie like a politician." Fairfax said immediately. He saw it too, it seemed. "But I started out in casinos, Mr. Lockwood." He paused again, looking straight at Lockwood. (Drama queen) "I can always spot a bluff."

George seemed uncomfortable. Eyes turned to him as he leaned forward. "Do you think you'll get discretion from Fitz and Rotwell? Every decision they make gets debated by the committee."

"And you need something more..." Lucy trailed off, a little overwhelmed, I guessed.

"Nimble?"

"Yes," She said, giving me a grateful look, finding her voice once more. "Like us. A small independent."

"We are the only agency who can do this job the way you need it doing." That's a claim. (His eyes are very pretty in the light of the floor to ceiling windows)

Fairfax smiles (predatorily) "Nice pitch." The smile's gone. "But I work very closely with DEPRAC, and I don't think this is a job they'll let you do."

Lockwood shifts uncomfortably. "That's... why it's probably best they don't hear about it." I smile, a little mischievously.

"Rotwell just quoted me ninety grand. I won't pay you a penny more than the fine you owe DEPRAC. What is it? 40? 50?"

"60." Lockwood corrected him. "Actually. You're obviously a busy man, Sir John, so let's keep it simple." He crossed his legs, left over right, and put his pale hands delicately in his lap. "You pay our fine, and we'll fix your house. So... Do we have a deal?"

I looked at Fairfax's face. I went over to the cabinet, and pulled out a check. "20-40?" I said. He nodded.

I passed it to Lockwood, twenty whole grand on it, and his hand shook at little as he took it. I smiled at him. "Take the money and run."

༻🕱༺

"You seemed very... helpful, Niki." Fairfax sat, sipping the water as the ice slowly melted. (there was no lemon, I remember when Eleanor was first appointed, she put lemon in his water, and she was almost fired before you could tell Fairfax truthfully that you thought that unfair. Thank God he listened. It would be a very different job if he hadn't, that first time)

"You know I like an underdog, sir." I stood straight. He nodded.

"This is a delicate matter, as I'm sure you heard."

"I did, sir."

"Good. Then you will understand why you are being appointed to Lockwood & Co."

I paused. "Sir?"

"You will stay with them as much as possible. You will accompany them on the visitation to Combe Carey Hall."

I didn't really mind. I don't have any plans. You nodded. "Yes, sir."

He looked at you. "Dismissed." You walked to the elevator. "Oh, and, Niki?"

"Yes, sir?"

"If they can't fix this particular problem... Well. Clean up the loose ends?"

#anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood #lockwood & co.#lockwood & co #save lockwood and co #lockwood netflix #george karim #lucy carlyle #canon compliant #quite-happy

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duranduratulsa · 9 months

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Here are this week's 90's Fest Amazon Music Preferred Artists...

1. Nirvana (5 appearances)

2. Red Hot Chili Peppers, The Notorious B.I.G., Green Day, Pearl Jam (4 appearances)

3. Whitney Houston, The Goo Goo Dolls, Savage Garden, TLC, Rob Thomas, Dr Dre (3 appearances)

4. Aqua, Guns N' Roses, Coolio, LV, Sinéad O'Connor, Ice Cube, Counting Crows, Shania Twain, Backstreet Boys, Warren G, Nate Dogg, Metallica, Tracy Chapman Online, Outkast, Vanilla Ice, Smash Mouth, Sixpence None The Richer, Soundgarden, House Of Pain, Faith Hill, Beastie Boys, Matchbox Twenty, 4 Non Blondes, The Proclaimers, Beck, Blackstreet, Queen Pen, Salt N Pepa, Collective Soul, Ms. Lauryn Hill (2 appearances)

5. Nine Inch Nails, Naughty By Nature, Usher, Mariah Carey, Santana, Alanis Morissette, The Cure, U2, Third Eye Blind, MASE, Puff Daddy, Weezer, Extreme, Bryan Adams, The Verve, The Fugees, Keith Sweat, Sir Mix-A-Lot, The Smashing Pumpkins, Chris Isaak, Oasis, Mark Morrison, Bell Biv DeVoe, Aerosmith, Sarah McLachlan, R.E.M., En Vogue, Blind Melon, No Doubt, Soul Asylum, Cypress Hill, SWV, Spice Girls, Tim McGraw, Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers, Paula Cole, Britney Spears, Barenaked Ladies, Snoop Dogg, Eagle-Eye Cherry, Dave Matthews Band, Destiny's Child, Korn, Sheryl Crow, Spin Doctors, Wilson Phillips, Queensrÿche, Lonestar, Meat Loaf, Ginuwine, Faith No More, Lenny Kravitz, Hootie and the Blowfish, Billy Ray Cyrus, George Michael, Sugar Ray, Jon Bon Jovi, NSYNC, Marcy Playground, Bone Thugs-N-Harmony, Shaggy (1 appearance)

#amazonmusic #amazon #90s #90sfest #durandurantulsas3rdannual90sfest #nirvana #RIPCurtCobain #redhotchilipeppers #notoriousbig #RIPNotoriousBIG #greenday #pearljam #whitneyhouston #RIPWhitneyHouston #googoodolls #savagegarden #tlc #RIPLeftEye #robthomas #drdre #aqua #gunsnroses #GNR #coolio #ripcoolio #LV #sineadoconnor #ripsineadoconnor #icecube #countingcrows #shaniatwain #backstreetboys #WarrenG #natedogg #metallica #tracychapman #outkast #vanillaice #smashmouth #sixpencenonethericher #soundgarden #RIPChrisCornell #houseofpain #faithhill #beastieboys #matchboxtwenty #matchbox20 #4nonblondes

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minervacasterly · 1 year

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The Death of Queen Elizabeth I of England and Ireland & the End of an era:

The last Tudor monarch died at Richmond Palace at the age of sixty nine on the 24th of March 1603 after ruling England for forty four years.

She was the longest Tudor reigning monarch, and third longest ruling Queen in English history. Elizabeth I was the daughter of Anne Boleyn and Henry VIII. Born on September 7th 1533, she was bastardized three years later following her parents’ annulment and her mother’s execution.

Out of all the monarchs, Elizabeth was unique in the sense that she never married. By refusing any marriage offer –while coyly entertaining every ambassador, making all sorts of promises that she would consider- she abstained herself from such troubles and was able to be her own mistress.

News of the Queen’s death spread like wildfire, also reaching her councilors’ preferred successor, James VI of Scotland. Weeks before on March 9th, Robert Cecil, son of her late and most trusted adviser William Cecil (Lord Burghley), wrote to George Nicholson, the English ambassador in Edinburgh, informing him that the Queen was ailing and that “her mouth and tongue” were “dry and her chest hot” and that she couldn’t sleep anymore. This is somewhat false. Elizabeth was deathly ill but she was far from helpless as Cecil’s report suggests. She was about her business, walking back and forth in her chambers, pondering on the future that awaited her country once she was gone.

Less than a week later, her condition worsened and she was no longer able to move as freely. Then on the 19th of March she gave a last audience to Sir Robert Carey (Mary Boleyn’s youngest grandson). She held Carey’s hand and confessed to him that she was not well. Sir Robert tried to cheer her up but to no avail. Elizabeth, as the rest, knew that her days were numbered and she wouldn’t live for another week.

On Tuesday, the twenty second she was brought to her bed where she stayed until her death. Her councilors visited her, insisting that she dictate her will so she could leave a successor but she refused. Like before, Elizabeth was always hesitant when it came to the issue of an heir. So many had competed for that position and so many were now gone.

Katherine Grey had married without permission and died nearly half mad in 1568, and ten years later her younger sister Mary Grey -who wasn’t allowed to see her husband because Elizabeth feared she could also produce children and rival claimants- and lastly, Mary, Queen of Scots who lost her head in 1587.

The favorite on everyone’s mind was James VI and one simple word from their queen’s mouth would give his claim even more validity but the Queen, probably not caring or in agony, remained adamant in her position. A story later circulated that Elizabeth I had indeed named James by way of her fingers when the council asked her to move her finger a certain way to mean that James was her successor and she did, but this cannot be corroborated and it is likely false.

The death of Elizabeth I marked the end of an era. A bloody, tumultuous era packed with religious and social change. She was not a staunch Protestant but she did push for Protestant reformer on the Church, primarily on the Book of Common prayer, and neither was she a Catholic –though one Pope expressed admiration for her, claiming that if she wasn’t a Protestant, he would support her instead of Philip II of Spain. Elizabeth was a moderate and she took a moderate approach. That is the type of monarch she was. Her laws were just as fierce, if not fiercer in some aspects, than her father’s, grandfather’s and siblings. The way in which she used her image says a lot about her. In one painting she is standing next to the goddess but if one looks closely it is the goddesses who are standing next to her, leading her to her destiny. Elizabeth was in popular eyes not just an anointed sovereign, but the head of all spiritual and earthly matters.

Read more here: https://tudorsandotherhistories.wordpress.com/2016/03/24/the-death-of-queen-elizabeth-i/

#dailytudors #history #queen elizabeth i of england

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starfinss · 1 year

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ɪɴᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴀᴛ ʙᴀɴᴄʀᴏꜰᴛ ʜᴀʟʟ — ᴄʜ. 1

Chapter Two can be found here!

𝘍𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮: Lockwood & Co.

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: Anthony Lockwood + Lucy Carlyle

𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨: SFW

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 7,227

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺:

“Skull,” I hissed, “is there something here with us?”

“Nothing dead, if that’s what you’re asking.”

I didn’t respond, thoroughly miffed, but still on guard. I positioned my rapier in front of my body to act as a shield, and when I heard another sound, I found myself whirling around, zeroing in on the source of the disturbance with mechanical efficiency, only to come face to face with…

A person. A girl. Wide, made-up eyes stared back at me, set in a cute, freckled face, and attached to a throat I was currently pointing my rapier at.

Or, alternatively, the client’s daughter flirts with Lockwood, is a massive nuisance, and Lucy gets jealous, among other things.

It was a bright, cool autumn morning, just after the rather perilous conclusion of the Case of the Flying Top Hat, and Lockwood, George and I were just tucking into breakfast, when someone came ringing the bell out in front of 35 Portland Row.

Holly welcomed whoever had come round dutifully inside without any of us prompting her to do so, and I heard the various sounds of her getting them settled in the living room before her footsteps came towards the kitchen; she poked her head through the open door.

“There’s a client here to see you,” she said, “a Sir Ignatius Quintrell.”

“Fine,” Lockwood said, placing his napkin on The Thinking Cloth, “we’ll be right out.”

The man sitting in our loving room was somewhat an odd fellow. He was a barrel chested man with long arms and legs. He had a great square head with small, watery blue eyes set under heavy, dark eyebrows, and a carefully combed head of jet-black hair, greying at the temples. The handlebar mustache that dominated his upper lip made him resemble a cartoon villain. A spotless bowler hat sat atop his head. He reeked of money and class, as evident from his Italian suit that undoubtedly cost more than myself and Lockwood combined, and his garish scarlet tie, fastened by an ornate gold tie clip. That bit cost more than George. From the top of his hat to the toes of his gleaming shoes, he was a strange amalgamation of something out of a Victorian novel and a character from a comic book.

“Ah,” he said in a booming voice, and though plaster didn’t fall from the ceiling, it came close, “Mr Lockwood. A pleasure to meet the young man who vanquished the spirits in Combe Carey Hall, and his associates. I am Sir Ignatius Qunitrell, and I implore you help me.”

He spoke with one of the poshest accents I’d ever heard, and that, alongside his manner of of dress, made everything about him mildly comical. From the bemused look on my colleagues faces, I could tell that my observation was one we all made.

Lockwood broke the silence with a cough, crossing to sit on the sofa. I joined him after a second, and George busied himself with gathering the things to make a fresh pot of tea.

“How may we do that, sir?” Lockwood asked, folding his hands neatly in his lap.

A broad smile appeared, revealing a gold tooth on the right side of his mouth. “Marvelous of you to ask, Mr Lockwood. My wife and I have recently purchased a third house, over in Buckinghamshire. Lovely property, with a smashing guest house and pool. But my darling girl, my Madeline, has been seeing something in her new bedroom, I’m afraid. She’s scared out of her mind, and refuses to sleep in there, but won’t sleep anywhere else. You can see my problem, yes?”

Lockwood nodded empathetically. “Yes, sir, quite clearly.”

“My sweet Madeline is beside herself with fear. She read about your agency in True Hauntings, and asked for you specifically, so I came to fetch you. We’re willing to pay whatever figure you name— plus extra.”

I could already tell Lockwood was in by the way he was smiling. I knew as well as he did that this man was high society; completing a job with him would be excellent publicity. Besides, I knew him well enough to know that he would never refuse being asked for directly by a client.

George reappeared after a moment with a trey of teacups, which he passed out before taking a seat in his usual armchair.

“Tell us more about your ghost, Sir Quintrell,” Lockwood said after taking his cup, interest glittering in his dark eyes.

Relief seemed to show on Sir Quintrell’s face for a few seconds before the expression grew pleased. And so, he settled into his armchair, took a deep drink of tea, and began to speak.

“The property, called Bancroft Hall, was built in the late middle of the nineteenth century, and originally belonged to a duchess by the name of Cornelia Bancroft. She had the home built when her husband died, and lived there with her three young daughters. Some years later, the Duchess met a local businessman by the name of Daniel Frayne, and fell in love with him. They married after a rather short courtship, and the marriage was frowned upon because of his lower social status. All fairly normal happenstance, if you ask me.”

“But?” George asked, popping a biscuit into his mouth.

Sir Quintrell gave another wide smile. “Ah, yes. How astute of you, my good fellow. There always is a ‘but,’ isn’t there?” He folded his hands in his lap. “Their marriage was happy for some time, but soured, according to a servant’s recount of the events, a scullery maid, if I recall. The pair would argue often, and then there were mentions of a mistress, though I never found much information about that while looking into the estate’s history. All that matters is that Frayne ended up murdering his wife one night, and then proceeded to hang himself from the bedroom’s chandelier.”

“And the daughters?” I asked.

“Yes, the daughters,” Sir Quintrell said, “two of them left the estate and never returned. But one, the eldest, stayed behind to care for her mother’s home. She ended up dying on the property as well, unfortunately, by drowning herself in a bathtub. The house was eventually sold to the county, and was turned into a boarding house. It then went to one of the Duchess’ distant relatives after a time, and it remained in the family until the last member died, and my wife and I purchased it. It wasn’t until we moved in that we noticed the Visitor activity.”

“An esteemed history, indeed,” Lockwood said, “Holly, did you get that? Good. George will need it.”

“Does that mean you’re accepting my offer?” Sir Quintrell asked. Lockwood’s smile grew.

“When do you want us to be there?”

A light sparked behind our new client’s eyes, and he clasped his hands together.

“As soon as you can, Mr Lockwood. The sooner you can come, the more I will pay you, in fact.”

“Then we’ll be there tonight,” Lockwood said, and I looked sidelong at George, fully expecting the outraged expression he was wearing. He rose from the sofa with a sigh, shuffling off into the house, undoubtedly to prepare for a trip to the archives. Holly handed him her notebook on his way out.

The conversation after that was short, mostly just Lockwood and our guest exchanging pleasantries that I was surprised didn’t put me to sleep before Sir Quintrell excused himself, picking up a long, slim walking stick I hadn’t noticed before from beside his chair, and then he was gone just as quickly as he’d come.

“You ought to think more about George before you agree so quickly,” I said, and Lockwood simply smiled.

“He’ll be alright. You worry too much, Luce.” He gave me one of those smiles of his that made my stomach feel all funny. “Now, would you like another cup of tea?”

As the day grew late, we worked in the basement office as Holly cleaned and organized our kit until it gleamed, and then once more until it was blinding. George came back a handful of hours later, still grumpy about the time crunch, and told us that Sir Quintrell had told us most of what we needed to know. He had found a floor plan of Bancroft Hall, however, that he’d photocopied for all four of us. He’d also found guest registry from when the hall served as a boarding house, but beyond that, much of the information was what we already knew.

Holly rechecked our kits, and I helped her sort through them before repacking and making sure the iron filings had been filled and stocked sufficiently. I knew I didn’t need to, Holly was perfectly efficient as always, but it gave me something to do besides stabbing a dummy with my rapier.

Shortly before dusk, we were on the train to Buckinghamshire.

“I reckon we could get to Chequers from here,” George remarked as we got off the train, heavy duffle bags slung over our shoulders, “just pop round. I wonder if the P.M. is in.”

“Maybe he’ll need our services one day,” Lockwood said with a grin, “we’d be set for life with that sort of money, wouldn’t we?”

As we left the station, a stout, flaxen haired youth was waiting for us with a car, and he said very little as he took the bags from us with surprising ease and shoved them into the boot.

The resulting car trip was short, and gave me some time to watch the rolling green hills go by. It looked like a painting, one you’d see hanging at an art museum. Fluffy sheep grazed in the fields, seemingly unaffected by the chill of autumn. The sky was blue, fading into pastels as the sun sank, leaving hues of lavender behind and speckles of stars.

George tried to question our driver about the reputation of Bancroft Hall, but got little out of him besides that he didn’t know the Quintrell family very well, they were paying him twenty quid to pick us up, and that he was late for church. That was all he would say, and when Lockwood tried to start small talk, he was met with a vicious glare.

We sat in uncomfortable silence until we reached the hall, all afraid to anger the driver into crashing the car, or something similar, and when we were safely out of the vehicle, our kits in our hands, we weren’t at all surprised to see the car speed off, leaving a plume of dust in its wake.

That was when we caught our first glimpse of Bancroft Hall.

It was a massive, sprawling structure of two wings, built in Victorian style, out of bright stone blocks. Pillars with scalloped edges held up the great carved awning, which yawned over us like a massive jaw. The windows were wide and tall, with lush red curtains hanging beyond the glass like eyelids, obscuring the recesses. Molting bushes hugged the walls, colorful leaves dotting the space around them. Conical bushes lined the front walkway, groomed immaculately. The entire house seemed to be leaning towards us, casting chilly shadows as it sat before us, backlit by the setting sun, making it seem like it was a living thing. It was a beautiful house, regardless. It reminded me of what a mausoleum would look like if it were for the living.

“Well,” Lockwood said, flashing a smile, “shall we?”

Before he even rose his hand to use one of the great brass knockers, the door swung open to reveal Sir Quintrell, grinning at us broadly. He ushered us in with the grandiosity we expected of him, even after our rather brief interaction with him at Portland Row.

The entrance hall was a vast room, decorated with soft blues and pastel yellows. The carpet, an intricate Persian thing, was spread across the hardwood floor, just before the sweeping steps, which were made of deep mahogany. There was a sideboard made of heavy, polished wood over by the staircase, which had been stuffed so full of family photos that no room was left on the surface for anything else.

“We’ve been waiting for you, Mr Lockwood,” Sir Quintrell said, voice as booming as ever, “my wife has cooked a sumptuous meal, so I hope you all have an appetite. Surely, we have time before you need to work, yes?”

“It will cut it a little close,” George said, “We need to get ourselves set up, sir—”

“Nonsense,” Lockwood said, waving George off, “we have time for a short meal. George, stop worrying so much. Surely, it would be rude of us to refuse.”

We followed Sir Quintrell into the dining room, where a wonderful scent hit me, and suddenly, the sandwich I’d had on the train was hardly enough to fill my stomach. A woman was waiting in the room at the head of the table, grinning broadly at the four of us.

She was rather short, and shaped very much like a pear. She had a face that reminded me of some sort of holiday elf, with round, merry cheeks and happy, upturned green eyes. Her hair was bright red, done up with clips and piled high on her head. She wore a pair of black slacks paired with a pale pink blouse under a cream colored cardigan that almost completely swallowed her body. A pair of diamond earrings that surely cost more than our house dangled from her earlobes.

The woman, Lady Quintrell, was a warm, motherly sort, who behaved as if she’d known us our entire lives, making sure all of us ate our fills, serving us a delectable plum pudding upon finishing our meals. I could barely finish mine, I was so full, so I discreetly passed my dish to George when Lady Quintrell wasn’t looking.

As we polished off our meals, Sir Quintrell excused himself, saying no more than that he’d return shortly, and when he did, he had a young girl with him.

She looked like a combination of Sir and Lady Quintrell, so I could only imagine she was their daughter. She looked to be a little younger than me, possibly fifteen at best, maybe fourteen. Her hair was the same flaming red as her mother’s, worn hay straight, and her eyes were pale blue, like her father’s. She had a round-ish face, with a small chin and rosy cheeks scattered with countless freckles. Her eyes were large, and I’m no makeup expert, but I’m fairly certain she was wearing a touch too much mascara. The resulting look made her appear to be in a constant state of shock. She was wearing a fitted white sweater dress with dark leggings, as well as high heeled ankle boots that couldn’t possibly be comfortable.

For some reason, I instantly hated her. I’ve gotten better at having positive opinions about other girls upon meeting them, becoming closer friends with Holly had certainly helped with that, but I felt that familiar feeling of disdain well up inside me as I studied her. I tried to shove it down, telling myself to give her a chance before making a judgement, but something about her boiled my blood.

“Mr Lockwood, I’d like you and your associates to meet my daughter, Madeline. She’s a big fan of your work, I hope you know.“

The girl’s round eyes scanned our faces with interest, pausing on Lockwood’s for the longest, a sweet smile spreading across her pretty lips. I felt my stomach do a funny twist, but I ignored it. I didn’t have time to think about what that could mean just before a case. I left those sorts of emotions at the door of a haunted location, no exceptions.

“Charming,” Lockwood said, the megawatt smile he reserved for clients appearing on his face, “it’s quite an honor to be the agency you think of highly enough to request for your problem, Miss Quintrell.”

Madeline let out a soft, tinkling giggle that made my blood squirm in my veins. I forced a polite smile, as if she wasn’t making odd, angry thoughts fill my mind. It was not a gesture that was returned.

“You’re really a genius, Mr Lockwood,” she said, batting her overdone lashes, “I love seeing you in True Hauntings and The Times.”

Lockwood puffed up, glowing from the praise. His smile grew. “Yes, well. It’s even more charming to meet a fan, isn’t it?“ His dark eyes fixed on us, glittering with merriment.

The three of made varying noises of assent, with Holly’s sounding the most genuine, but from the guarded, polite smile on her face, I could tell she wasn’t entirely sure what to make of this girl either.

George cleared his throat suddenly, rising from the table. ��We really should get started,” he said, “before it gets darker.”

“Yes, indeed,” Sir Quintrell bellowed, and I swore the windowpanes shook, “wouldn’t want us keeping you. My darlings, let us get to the guest house and let the agents work. If there is any problems, Mr Lockwood, ring us down there. There is a phone in the kitchen. No reason is a silly reason, even if you’re simply calling to chat.”

Lockwood smiled politely. “Your hospitality is splendid, Sir Quintrell. We will keep that in mind.”

The Quintrell family left shortly after that, only interrupted by Madeline claiming she’d forgotten something in her bedroom, and then they were gone, closing the door behind them, and leaving the house to us.

“RIght,” Lockwood said, pressing his gloved palms together, “fine. I suppose there’s no need for biscuits, but who’d like some tea?”

Holly put the kettle on, and as we drank tea, George went over the floor plan with us. The house was a maze of a thing, full of winding corridors and dead ends. It was nowhere near the level of Combe Carrey Hall, but it was a monster of a structure, and I imagined that it would be quite easy to lose one’s way. George had marked spots of activity on the maps he’d passed out to us, as well as routes to and from said active points, leading both to the entryway and to the kitchen, where we’d decided to set up our base due to the large amount of iron located there.

The points of activity marked were the master bedroom and the bathroom attached to Madeline’s bedroom. This made sense, due to the deaths that occurred in such locations, but, like always, I imagined things wouldn’t be as open and shut as they seemed. That was just how it went when you’re with Lockwood & Co.

This was proven by the point of activity in the third floor sitting room, which George hadn’t found much on besides rumors, but according to him, it was worth checking out regardless. The rumors entailed the sound of weeping and a horrible feeling of dread when one sat alone in the room, and Holly remarked that it sounded like a Shade or a Lurker, something we all agreed with her on.

With that all squared away, Holly decided she’d investigate the third floor sitting room with George, and Lockwood and I would investigate the second floor’s visitations. After the bathroom and the sitting room were taken care of, we’d regroup and investigate the master bedroom as a team due to the fact that this was where the initial deaths had occurred, making it the most likely epicenter of the haunting.

As Lockwood and I ascended the stairs to the second floor, I reached back to turn the tap attached to the jar in my backpack. As I did, a psychic pressure materialized, settling neatly into a familiar spot inside my inner ear, and the sardonic voice of the skull in the jar filled my head.

“Ah, good,” the voice whispered, “You’re listening. Now, Lucy, find a nice heavy pan and hit that red headed blighter—”

“No,” I said, before it could finish, “I’m not doing that, skull.”

“You never take my advice,” it said, “but really, you’d be better off in the long run. What’s that girl ever going to provide for society besides dimness and far too much cosmetic application?”

I ignored its last comment. “I take your advice plenty. When it’s useful, though, not when you’re suggesting the casual murder of our client’s daughter for no other reason but your personal amusement.

Lockwood hid his laugh with a cough. “What’s it saying?”

I rolled my eyes. “The usual drivel.”

A soft, spectral scoff. “I’ll have you know that this is no drivel, but a serious suggestion that will benefit all of us. I have only your best interests at heart, Lucy.”

“And Ghost Touch isn’t lethal,” I shot back, “do you sense anything yet?”

“No, nothing yet,” the ghost said, “and I still say my plan is the only sensible option. I’ll bet the office has a nice letter opener you could use. Sneak down to their posh guest house and drive the blade into her posh throat. Get her posh parents while you’re at it. I won’t tell.”

I hummed. “You won’t, no. Because I’m the only one who can hear you, skull.”

A quiet excitement filled the voice when it spoke next. “So you’ll do it? Lucy, I knew you’d come around. Now, first—”

“No, Skull,” I interjected, “I’m not murdering anyone with a letter opener.”

“Drat.”

“Yeah,” Lockwood said, mirth spilling into his voice, “normal things, I see.”

The skull stayed quiet as we rounded the corner, following Lockwood’s map to Madeline’s bedroom, our boots ringing faintly on the hardwood floors. The sun had fully set, and the hallway was dark, casting us in semi-darkness as moonlight spilled through the tall, floor to ceiling windows.

“Should be here,” Lockwood said, stopping before a door, then stepping back with a dramatic flourish, “ladies first.”

For once, he was right. He’d been the one to open the first door during our last investigation, and I supposed I did owe it to him, because upon pushing open that door, he’d immediately been accosted by a mountain of falling cushions. Oh, and a Limbless, too. That was far from pleasant. Don’t ask me what a Limbless was doing in a linen cupboard, because I wouldn’t be able to tell you.

I stepped past Lockwood, resting my hand on the knob and focusing, tapping into my inner ear, but got nothing. Slowly, I turned the handle, pushing the door open.

The room reminded me of something out of a magazine or a teen film. The bed was large, set in a four poster frame, cheerfully painted white. The duvet was patterned with daisies on a soft, sky blue backdrop, with matching pillowcases. A handful of stuffed animals sat against the throw cushions. Posters for bands and television shows hung on the walls, and below the window on the left wall was a desk, painted the same white as the bed frame. Textbooks and school supplies sat neatly arranged on the desktop. A vanity was nearby, the mirror wreathed in photographs, makeup organized on the surface. A walk-in closet was attached to the wall to the right of the bed, and on the right side of the room was a door, leading to what was undoubtedly the bathroom.

“Blimey,” Lockwood said, “looks like an advert for a furniture shop in here.”

As we stepped into the room, I heard a sudden crash. I started, and I was about to ask Lockwood if he’d heard the same thing, as he often doesn’t hear all the same things I do, but from the look on his face, I could tell there was no need for me to ask.

“The devil was that?” Lockwood asked, and I simply shrugged.

“Stay here,” I said, “It sounded like it came from the study next door.”

“Oh, goodie,” the skull jeered, “yes, go get the letter opener.”

I ignored it, drawing my sword as I stepped out of the bedroom and into the hall. Slowly, with practiced, catlike grace, I approached the closed study door, pressing my ear against the wood. I could hear something inside, moving about, but I wasn’t sure if it was something living or not. George hadn’t said anything about a visitation in the second floor study, but it was possible he’d somehow missed something.

Rapier at the ready, I pushed open the door, eyes scanning the dim room for any sign of movement. The room was a high-ceilinged, airy space, with tall, floor to ceiling windows on the far wall, overlooking the rolling hills behind the property and flooding the space with moonlight. The desk was punished against the wall with the windows, scattered with books and writing utensils. Heavy mahogany bookshelves lined the walls, stuffed full of thick volumes. A bright red area rug dominated much of the floor space.

Because of the windows, there was little space to hide in the shadows, so I assumed, as any agent would, that what I’d heard had been a Visitor. I was about to pull my map out to check the floor plan when I heard another bit of shuffling, just over my shoulder. I tuned myself to the room, listening, but I picked up nothing besides the usual empty silence that comes with un-haunted rooms. I furrowed my brows, puzzled.

“Skull,” I hissed, “is there something here with us?”

“Nothing dead, if that’s what you’re asking.”

A person. A girl. Wide, made-up eyes stared back at me, set in a cute, freckled face, and attached to a throat I was currently pointing my rapier at.

“Ooh,” the skull said, “now, there’s your reason to kill her. Or, you could just let the ghosts do that. Letter opener to the neck, lob her head off with your rapier, or let her get Ghost Touched. Your choice, Lucy.”

I stared at Madeline, forcing myself to take in what I was looking at as I lowered my sword, but I didn’t put it away. I stared at her some more, struggling with the feelings of sheer, utter confusion and absolutely boiling rage.

“What,” I hissed, “in the hell are you doing here? I could have run you through.”

She stared back at me, her jaw opening and closing like a rather shocked fish. “But I’m not a ghost, I’d’ve died if you’d done that.”

“Yes,” I said, stunned, and questioning whether or not she had a working brain, “you would’ve. I don’t carry a sword for fun, you nonce. Now, you will answer my question. What the hell are you doing here?”

Madeline shifted, a sweet smile spreading across her face, one that I suspected was known to work quite well in aiding this girl with getting her way. At present, it wasn’t doing its intended job.

“I just thought I could help.”

I wondered very seriously if she was completely brain dead, because only someone incredibly stupid would try to go into a known haunted location without any training or kit.

“Is she mental?” The skull said, a note of amusement in its voice, “well, who cares if she is? One less problem for you.”

I ignored the skull, continuing to stare at Madeline, unable to come up with a response to her statement that wasn’t a shriek of indignant rage.

“You thought you could help?” I parroted, my eyes narrowing in askance, “are you mad?”

She had the nerve to look offended. “Well, no. I—”

“You just assumed,” I said, incredulous, “that you could come in here, pick up a rapier, and do our job with us? Have you passed your Forth Grade? Undergone training? Do you have a copy of The Fittes Manual for Ghost Hunters? Done any form of rapier training?”

She laughed; a soft, simpering sound that made my blood boil.

“I’m sure it can’t all be too hard, can it? Where’s Mr Lockwood?”

I let out a derisive laugh, my bemusement showing plainly on my face. “Oh, you want to see Lockwood? Alright, I’ll take you to him.”

I shoved my rapier back into its spot on my belt, and, without worrying about being gentle, I grabbed Madeline around the upper arm and began to walk, marching her around the corner and into the bedroom where I’d left Lockwood. When I arrived, I didn’t let go of her, despite her weak struggling.

“Found anything, Luce?” Lockwood’s voice called, coming from the en-suite bathroom.

“Oh, yeah,” I said, my voice dripping with sardonic rage, “you’ll want to see it for yourself, this.”

Lockwood, undoubtedly put off by the tone of voice I’d adopted, appeared in the bathroom doorway with a thermometer in his hand. He looked at me for a few seconds, then at my squirming captive. He was clearly at a loss for words, and when Madeline smiled at him, as prettily as she could, his mouth pressed itself into a firm line.

“Hello, Miss Quintrell,” he said, forced professionalism saturating his words, “what are you doing here?”

“Oh,” she said, casually, like they’d met at a shop or something, “hi, Mr Lockwood. Please, just Madeline is fine. I just wanted to see if I could help. Do you have any spare rapiers? Maybe you could teach me, I’ve heard you’re very good with a sword. I’ve got good eyes, too.”

A muscle in Lockwood’s jaw twitched, something that only happens when he’s trying to keep his temper in check, which is rather a rare occurrence. I’ve only seen it happen when Kipps is involved, so this had certainly gotten on his nerves. Lockwood cleared his throat, the smile that appeared on his face a touch wolfish.

“You can let her go now, Lucy. Thanks. I’d prefer to stay professional, Miss Quintrell,” Lockwood said, voice eerily calm, “and furthermore, you do not have the level of training required to work alongside operatives such as Lucy or myself. It is far too dangerous. You need to leave.“

Madeline let out a soft, affronted scoff. She clearly wasn’t used to people telling her no. She crossed her arms, batting her lashes at Lockwood, who stared back at her, unmoved. His lack of a reaction seemed to trouble her.

“Come off it,” she said, the saccharine smile reappearing, “can’t you just protect me, Mr Lockwood? Can I call you Anthony?”

Lockwood’s expression didn’t falter, but I could tell she was testing his patience. “Just ‘Lockwood’ is fine,” he said, “everyone calls me that, even my friends. Nobody really uses my first name. And, I can’t keep my full attention on you during an investigation, I’m afraid. We can’t have you getting hurt, now, can we? Ghost touch is nasty business.”

“I won’t get hurt,” Madeline said, giggling, “really, I’m a fast learner. I’m very good in my lessons, all my instructors love me. They say I’m a star pupil.”

“Ooh, I’m betting you wish you’d followed my advice just about now,” the skull jeered, “stabbed her just there, in the jugular. She’d have been dead before she hit the ground.”

I ignored the skull again, but as it finished speaking, I felt something snap, and I was slightly more accepting of the letter opener idea.

“Miss Quintrell,” I said, voice cold, “it is too dangerous for you to be here. You’re only going to get in the way. It is safest if you leave.”

Lockwood chuckled, a little awkwardly. “She said it less delicately than I would have liked, but yes, Lucy is correct. It is for your own safety that you leave and join your family in the guest house, Miss Quintrell.”

Madeline turned towards me, and she did something that I’d seen girls do countless times before. With eyes like a predator, like I was something she’d stepped on, she scoffed. She was looking down on me, like I was some silly girl who didn’t know what she was talking about.

“Well, Lucy,” she said, “how do you know that you don’t get in the way?”

Rage boiled inside of me, and I was about to answer her, when Lockwood did it for me.

“That’s enough,” he said, voice frosty, “Lucy is one of the best agents in London, if not the best. She’s well trained, her Talent is strong, and she knows what she’s doing. You’d do well not to talk like that about my operatives, Miss Quintrell.”

I felt that funny, pleasant rush I get when Lockwood compliments me, and I smiled despite myself.

“Careful now,” the skull said, “something’s stirring. Or don’t be careful, this is only just starting to get good.”

That was something I wouldn’t ignore. Madeline was mid-sentence when I held up a hand, signaling for quiet.

“What is it, Luce?” Lockwood asked, “you hear something?”

“Maybe,” I said.

I tuned myself in, closing my eyes, and I listened. Ah, there. Just buzzing at the edges of my senses, I could hear something. The thrum of running water. It was clear enough that it could actually be there, outside my psychic senses; it sounded like someone running a bath behind a closed door. But I had a feeling that wasn’t what it was. I’d been stupid, letting my anger grow. The visitation had started.

“Did you turn on the tap, Lockwood?” I asked.

“No,” he replied, “do you hear water?”

“Yeah,” I said, “it’s quiet, but it sounds like a bath running. What was the temperature in the bathroom?”

“Fifteen,” he said, and he turned, walking into the bathroom again.

“It’s at ten now,” he remarked upon reemerging, “good bit colder.”

“What should I do?”

Both Lockwood and I started at the sound of Madeline’s voice. I’d forgotten she was there for a moment as I was faced with the responsibilities that come with my line of work.

“Miss Quintrell,” Lockwood said, with forced cheeriness, “you’re still here. You really should leave now. It’s not safe.”

“Stirring? I said stirring, didn’t I?” The skull mused, “it’s more like a whirlpool now, really. Use the girl as a shield, there’s an idea. Let her get Ghost Touched.”

“Skull, shut up. Lockwood, it says something’s here. Miss Quintrell, I’m going to set up a small circle of iron chains, which I want you to stand inside of and not move from. After this visitation ends, you are leaving this building.”

“Skull? What skull?”

I ignored Madeline. Psychic pressure was building in my ears as I walked over to the kit, pulling one of our smaller lengths of chains from the bag and making a circle wide enough for a single person to stand inside of. Then, with little ceremony, I grabbed Madeline by the arm and shoved her into the circle.

“Do I get a rapier?” She asked, and I nudged the kit bags away from her with my boot, even though our spare blades were down in the kitchen. I just didn’t want her getting any ideas with a Magnesium Flare and setting her own bedroom ablaze in a further act of blinding idiocy.

“No,” I said, “you stand there and you wait. Stay inside that circle and you’ll be safe. Step outside, and your chances of dying go up quite a bit. I think that’s simple enough for someone as utterly thick as you to understand, yeah?”

I admit that I was being mean. But I had very little patience for someone who thought entering a haunted location with no protection or training just because she wanted to flirt was a smart decision. If there’s anything an agent hates, its when civilians try and interfere during an investigation, especially flirty schoolgirls with underdeveloped cosmetic skills. Maybe that last bit is a personal preference, but I’m sure at least a few other agents would share that sentiment.

I drew my rapier, following Lockwood into the bathroom and into the circle of chains he’d set up inside, where I could definitely feel the beginnings of creeping fear, sending chills up my spine. The first tendrils of Ghost Fog had begun to roll across the floor, swirling around our ankles.

“Temperature?” I asked, and Lockwood glanced down at his thermometer, its luminescent dial casting shadows across his thin, pale face.

“Dropping,” he said, “a bit nippy now.”

I could hear the sound of running water more clearly now, liquid splashing against porcelain. It was a musical sound, usually, but right now, with no physical source, it was just rather eerie.

“Do you see anything?” I asked, “I can hear the water now.”

“Death glow, not too bright,” Lockwood said, “just there, in the bathtub.”

I closed my eyes, focusing on the sound. I removed one of my gloves as I paced over to the bathtub, letting my fingertips run along the edge. I could hear a quiet weeping, followed by water running, overlapping with what I already heard in a strange echo. The surface grew cold under my fingers, and I focused harder.

Suddenly, I was being yanked back, Lockwood’s arm around my waist. My attention snapped to the tub, where a softly glowing hand had been reaching out, its thin fingertips searching the spot my hand had just been. I watched as the hand wrapped around the edge of the bathtub, followed by another hand, and then the top of a head, moving up to reveal a face, staring out at us with blank eyes.

The hair was the color of spilled ink, falling around the pale face in water logged strings. The skin was blue and bruised, eyes sunken and blank. The eyebrows were pitched upwards, giving the apparition a horribly sad appearance. I could hear the soft weeping again, mixing with the sound of the running water.

Slowly, the head rose, followed by thin, pale shoulders, and the mouth came into view. Her lips were pale and blue, on par with the rest of her whole drowning victim thing. The cheeks were hollow and sunken, stained with dark tears running down from the empty eyes. I felt like I was standing in a vat of molasses, and I tried my best to shake off the Malaise, hitting my temple with my palm to snap myself out of it and avoid the inevitable Ghost Lock.

“Got any gum?” I asked Lockwood, “tastes awful sour right now. I forgot to go to Arif’s before we left Portland Row.”

He wordlessly passed me a stick, which I stuck into my mouth after unwrapping it. The burst of mint on my tongue helped clear the supernatural influences away, forcing me to focus on something else.

“She’s not moving,” Lockwood remarked, “maybe just a Shade? She’ll probably vanish in a moment, and repeat that whole rising from the bath bit. We’ll look round for the Source once she’s gone.”

Just as he said that, the Visitor rose from the water fully, revealing the thin white nightgown on the body, dripping with plasm as she stepped out and onto the floor. Or rather, through the floor. The ankles sank through the floor tiles, like she was wading through shallow water, or walking through some unruly grass. Regarding us blankly, the Ghost glided towards us, stopping before the barrier provided by the iron chains.

“Or she could do that,” Lockwood said.

The air had turned bitter cold since she’d approached, and Lockwood’s and my breath could be seen in the air in front of us, highlighted by the Other Light that wreathed the staring Visitor before us. Her head tilted, as if quizzical, and I heard the weeping increase in volume as she moved.

“Right,” Lockwood said, “is she saying anything?”

“No,” I replied, “she’s just sort of standing there and crying.”

“Not very cheerful, is she?”

With that, Lockwood waved his rapier, passing the blade through the Ghost’s form, and she shrieked, jolting backwards. As if offended, her shoulders slumped as she drifted towards the bathtub, where she vanished.

“Ah, she’s gone,” the skull said in my ear, “one less problem for you.”

“I can see that she’s gone, Skull. Easy enough Vanishing Point,” I said, “but you’d think someone would notice an entire bloody tub being a Source. Should we look underneath?”

Lockwood smiled at me, and I felt my stomach go all funny. “Excellent thought.”

The two of us got on our hands and knees, peering down into the space beneath the claw foot tub. It had been bolted down, as tubs often are, so there was no trying to haul it aside. We shone our torches into the wedge of darkness, and just at the very back, I could see something glinting.

The psychic pressure was back. With a grunt, I shoved my arm beneath the tub. I had to hurry, before the Visitor returned, but with a space as snug as this, that was easier said than done. I strained myself, ignoring the twinge of pain in my shoulder as I overextended, and finally, I felt my fingers brush against something small and round. I hooked my pinkie finger through it, and withdrew my arm.

It was a ring. Small and dainty and silver, and burning with supernatural chill. A diamond was set in the front, hemmed in by tiny little emeralds. I deposited it into a small Silver Glass container attached to my belt, and the psychic pressure waned and then was gone.

“Nice job, Luce,” Lockwood said, “straight on, as always.”

He rose to his full height, offering me a hand, which I took, and he hoisted me up as well.

“Now,” he said, dusting off his gloved hands, “how about we see to our living Visitor?”

The pair of us stepped back into the bedroom, only to find that Madeline had gone. The circle I’d made for her sat empty, as if there had never been anyone there to begin with. I stared at it, reignited rage simmering in my chest.

“I said she’d gone, hadn’t I?” The skull said, unhelpfully.

I blinked. “You weren’t exactly specific about exactly who had gone, Skull. Did you see where she went?”

“No,” it said, “I just saw her leave. She left through the door, as many people tend to do when leaving a room, if that helps.”

“It doesn’t, thanks. We have to find her, Lockwood.”

Lockwood sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Right. Fine. Pack the kit over by the door, Luce, I’ll grab what’s in the bathroom. Hopefully we find her before she gets herself Ghost Touched.”

We packed up with trained efficiency, hoisting our kit bags over our shoulders as we left the bedroom and stepped back into the hall. Lockwood pulled his copy of the floor plan from a pocket inside his greatcoat, examining it. I took a half step closer to him to look at it as well.

“There are loads of places she could have gone,” Lockwood said, his voice laced with thinly veiled annoyance, “where else, if not her own bedroom? You think she went looking for George and Holly?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. Where’s the stupidest, most dangerous place in the house? I reckon we’ll find her there.”

“Just give up,” the skull suggested, “let her learn the error of her ways by letting her get Ghost Touched. Once she’s blue and swollen, much like a particularly unpleasant boil or a diseased blueberry, she’ll be very sorry indeed.”

It alarmed me that I wasn’t entirely opposed to that idea. I shook my head, though.

“No, Skull, that isn’t happening. She’s our client, so no matter how daft she is, we have to find her and keep her from getting hurt.”

“Right,” Lockwood agreed, “we’d best start looking, then.”

It was going to be a long night.

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the-celluloid-correspondent · 2 years

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House of the Dragon

200 years before the events of Game of Thrones, Westeros is in a time of peace but slowly fading away as a war for succession begins.

I will be honest with you: House of the Dragon has to be one of the year's biggest surprises. I was not expecting this series to be any good. After the disaster of the final season of Game of Thrones, I wanted nothing to do with Westeros. I was scorned and wanted George to finish his damn books instead of making another TV show. However, House of the Dragon is outright spectacular. Not only does the series live up to the expectations of its predecessor, but exceeds it. House of the Dragons is a masterclass of storytelling, character studies, and family drama.

I am amazed at how quickly I became invested in the characters and the story of House of the Dragon. The series is the best of Game of Thrones, which is a character-driven, political thriller, but in a more intimate setting. No scene is wasted in developing characters and driving the story forward in this slow burn. The stakes are constantly felt and a growing sense of dread is ever present. The writing is as exquisite as Martin's writing. Furthermore, the directing is consistent between episodes and truly brings the best out of their actors. House of the Dragon is going to be a major Emmy contender next year.

The acting in this series surpasses the acting in Game of Thrones, no offense. Paddy Considine has easily secured himself an Emmy nomination. He masterfully portrays the numerous complexities of King Viserys at a level that I have rarely seen before. You sir bow to no one. Matt Smith is charismatic and charming as the very morally grey Prince Daemon. Smith has absolutely secured an overdue Emmy nomination. Milly Alcock and Emma D'Arcy both portray Rhaenyra as their own characters and never feel like they are imitating one another. Furthermore, both actresses show a massive range, that very few can hit. The same can be said for Emily Carey and Olivia Cooke for their performances as Alicent. I wish I can name everyone, but the entire cast truly brings their A-game to this show and is going to get showered with Emmy nominations.

As with all HBO productions, you are really able to see the budget of this show. The cinematography is absolutely beautiful and breathtaking, even though the classic can't see anything night shots look were getting a little annoying. The VFX for the most part is very good, with the exception of a few shots of the dragons. The action sequences are very well done, especially given that this was shot during Covid. The costume design is intricate and elaborate as always with Westeros. I want all the dresses for this show. The production design is outstanding and feels like I have walked right back into Westeros.

So I only have two complaints about this show. First are the time jumps. I respect this series for doing time jumps, but I wished they were bettered handled. It became difficult quite quickly to tell how much time has passed between episodes and how old the characters are supposed to be. Some characters didn't age while others aged dramatically. I wished there was either more recasting or makeup to sell the aging of characters. The second complaint is how inconsistent Daemon's character is. Smith played him perfectly, but the character went back and forth between a chaotic neutral and a chaotic good. I understand he flip-flops in the books, but I wish the difference were not as stark between episodes.

Overall, this is a brilliant start to this series and I can't wait to see where it goes. They learned from their mistakes in Game of Thrones and chose to rectify and improve House of Dragon with those criticism. House of the Dragon is going to dominate the Emmys next year.

I am giving House of the Dragon, an A.

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pli1999 · 3 months

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Party Like it's 1999 2/3/24

30 Years of Dookie Edition

Green Day – “The Simpsons Theme”

INXS – “Suicide Blonde”

Soup Dragons – “Divine Thing”

Blondie – “Maria”

Green Day – “Warning”

Green Day – “Waiting”

Green Day – “Redundant”

Eve 6 – “Inside Out”

Beastie Boys – “Sabotage”

Soul Coughing – “Super Bon Bon”

Pulp – “Common People”

No Doubt – “It’s My Life”

Backstreet Boys – “Larger Than Life”

Britney Spears – “(You Drive Me) Crazy”

Janet Jackson – “Escapade”

Enrique Iglesias – “Bailamos”

Ricky Martin – “Livin’ La Vida Loca”

Green Day – “American Idiot”

Green Day – “She”

Green Day – “When I Come Around”

Avril Lavigne – “Sk8ter Boi”

Smash Mouth – “All Star”

Destiny’s Child – “Say My Name”

Ginuwine – “Pony”

Sir Mix-A-Lot – “Baby Got Back”

Sisqo – “Thong Song”

En Vogue – “My Lovin (You’re Never Gonna Get It)”

Rihanna featuring Jay-Z – “Umbrella”

Blackstreet featuring Dr. Dre – “No Diggity”

TLC – “No Scrubs”

Cardigans – “Lovefool”

Green Day – “Minority”

Green Day – “Basket Case”

Green Day – “Longview”

Blink-182 – “What’s My Age Again”

The Offspring – “Come Out and Play (Keep ‘Em Separated)”

Jimmy Eat World – “The Middle”

The Killers – “Somebody Told Me”

Notorious B.I.G. featuring Puff Daddy and Ma$e – “Mo Money, Mo Problems “

Will Smith – “Miami”

Nelly Furtado featuring Timbaland – “Promiscuous”

Usher featuring Lil Jon and Ludacris – “Yeah!”

Mariah Carey featuring Jay-Z – “Heartbreaker”

Missy Elliott featuring Ciara and Fatman Scoop – “Lose Control”

Crystal Waters – “Gypsy Woman”

La Bouche – “Sweet Dreams”

No Mercy – “Where Do You Go”

Cece Peniston – “Finally”

Bon Jovi – “It’s My Life”

Green Day – “Holiday”

Green Day – “Welcome to Paradise”

Green Day – “Brain Stew”

My Chemical Romance – “It’s Not Okay (I Promise)”

Weezer – “Buddy Holly”

Goo Goo Dolls – “Slide”

Nine Days – “Absolutely (Story of a Girl)”

New Radicals – “You Get What You Give”

Wheatus – “Teenage Dirtbag”

Nine Inch Nails – “Closer”

Semisonic – “Closing Time”

George Michael – “Freedom”

Fountains of Wayne – “Stacy’s Mom”

Pearl Jam – “Better Man”

Green Day – “Wake Me Up When September Ends”

Green Day – “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)”

#90snight #partylikeits1999 #aughts

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sleepy-stories · 3 years

Text

Chapter 9: The Tudor Date

Henry drove a few blocks from his large home, within the night. The weather is cold as if the season was changing from fall to winter. Tudor passed many people and made it to a twin building which was covered in red and separated by two stairs.

Henry parked his 1932 Ford V-8 Cabriolet near the sidewalk and exited it. He looked up directly at home, “Which one could it be?” He told himself, feeling a bit curious. But he decided to walk up the stairs to the right and knock on the door. The door opened and revealed an older woman, probably in her mid-40s or late-50s. “Uhh, is this the residence of Mary Boleyn,” he asked politely.

The woman said and pointed to the left,” she lives there and who are you?” then asked him a simple question. “You don’t know me?” Henry pointed at himself, then she shook her head as she was answering a ‘no’. “I’m Henry Tudor jr,” Henry told her as he walked over to the other door.

“Tudor? The one owns that famous bars and clubs all over the united kingdom?” she asked, realizing who she was talking to. “Yup, that’s me,” Henry said, he was feeling a bit happier than before.

“What are you doing here? Oh! Are you on a date with Mary Boleyn?” she asked one question with another. Tudor nodded before knocking on the door. “Now, Thank you for telling me the correct door,” Henry said as the door opened and revealed an older man, who was almost his height. He wore his light blue robe and some old smart glasses.

“You’re very welcome, Tudor,” the woman said, before closing her door. Henry turned his attention to the older man.

“Hello, good sir, is this the residence of Mary Boleyn?” He asked the older man. “Yes, it is. And who are you?” he asked back. “Henry Tudor jr,” Tudor introduced himself as he tipped his hat. Mary walked down the steps of her stairs, she seemed to be talking to another person upstairs. Which two other older siblings came out of their hiding. “You two are so curious about who I’m going with are you?” Mary asked but feeling upset by her creepy siblings, before reaching the door. Mary wore a black evening vintage dress that reached down to her feet. Her face was dashed with rosy blushed on her cheeks and her lips colored with a ruby red. Even Her hair was stylish with it being short, wavy, and loose.

“Father, this is my date that I talked about yesterday, he’s the owner of that one famous bar that Thomas from next door was talking about from last month,” she told her father, who he was once curious to be pleased by the man’s success.

“I used to work with your father, son.” he said by remembering a long time memory, but continued,” before his passing, I’m sorry about your loss, son.” Henry looked away for a bit but looked at his date’s father. “Yeah, he was a great father to me and an amazing boss to everyone that he met.”

His happiness went from positive and ready to a bit sad and alone again. “Father, can we please change the topic or at least let me go?” Mary said quickly as she noticed Henry’s expression. He was showing a bit of awkwardness but had a sadder look. “Oh yeah, sorry,” He noticed, Boleyn scratched the back of his head and looked away. “Oh yeah, make sure she is back hereby,” Mr. Boleyn said, looking at the time.

The clock reads, “7:30.”

“Before midnight,” He said, returning his gaze at Henry. Tudor nodded and stepped to the side for Mary to walk out. “Now, don't drink too much on the way back, Mary,” Thomas Boleyn said. Mary sighs,” I won’t, father,”

Thomas smiled and shut the door on them. Both of the lovers walked down the steps and made their way to Henry's car. “Your father seems fun,” He told her as he opened the door for her. “Yeah, but the more you know him, the stricter you’ll find him,” she said, jokingly, before Tudor shuts the door. Henry walked around the car, with chuckles coming out of him.

As Henry got in, they were already driving to the place. The building was two stories, white and greyish color on the front and when they entered, the rooms were like anything bar, tables, chairs, and people working and people drinking.

“We could sit by the bartender if you want Henry?” she said but wanted to do what he wanted to do. “Sure, we can get our drinks quicker,” Henry said.

The two of them walked over to the counter and took their seats. The man behind the counter was cleaning up a cup as anyone would. “Oh, welcome back Henry, you brought yourself another lovely lady,” he said, teasing. “You know, just finding the perfect one for my life. Like usual,” Henry said, being honest. He nodded then change the question to their orders. “What would you two like to have?” He asked, smirking at both of them.

Henry said,” you know what I want,” he stared at him. “And you, miss?” He asked, turning to his boss’ date. “Give me a glass of bee’s knees,” Mary requested. “What classy lady, you have chosen something that no one drinks,” he told her. “Henry over here drinks just plain whiskey and it makes me question his lifestyle.” he kept talking to her as he started with Henry’s drink.

The bartender gave the glass of whiskey to Henry and started with Mary’s. “Can you not talk about me when I’m here?” Henry asked. “Fine, I won’t,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“So, ma’am can you please tell me about yourself?” he asked her. A group of people left the bar, it was about 5 people. Henry watched them carefully. One of them stared back but glared.

“Well, I’m the oldest in my family, I have two parents that are alive and well. One brother and one sister, we live next door to this family called the wyatts that have two kids who are close with me and my family. Both of our fathers worked with Henry's father in the past as bartenders one time but soon worked with sir Tudor closely.” She told. Henry tried to listen closely to Mary but kept getting distracted by the people from earlier. “I have two kids of my own with another man who was my husband but he died of a disease that almost took my sister as well. Henry would know the knowledge of losing something.” Mary told as she pointed at him, who wasn't looking at her. “What time is it?” Henry asked. “Uh, about 11 pm, why?” the bartender asked. “My father requested me to come back before midnight,” Mary said. She took the last sip of her drink before getting up and leaving with Henry.

On the drive home, Henry stared directly at the road. Mary looked at the window as people went by quickly. “You know, it was nice getting out of the house. But are you sure you are okay?” she asked him, who looked quite serious and quiet.

“Yeah, it's just been a long night and I have, I have just seen someone from the past in that bar before,” Henry told her directly. “Oh,” she just said. “I guess if I met someone from the past, I would be curious about them too,” Mary said, understanding his problem.

As they arrive at her home, she left out of the car with him. Things were quiet and different after they left her front door. She walked up the three steps and knock on the door. Mary looked worried a bit but she turned around and faced her date who was at the bottom steps. “You know, Henry you could still talk to me by writing me a letter. If you feel lonely, I guess?” she gave him a suggestion.

The door opens and it reveals a young woman in her nightgown, slippers covering her feet who was still up, Mary walked in and the young woman waved with a little child in her arms. Tudor waved back as he left.

#rebirth of tudors #henry tudor jr #henry 8 #henry viii #henry vii #henry sir #mary boleyn #thomas boleyn #george boleyn #anne boleyn #henry boleyn #henry carey #date #ao3 #fanfiction #Anne Skinner‎#henry wyatt #margaret wyatt

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dailytudors · 2 years

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24 MARCH 1603: The Death of Queen Elizabeth I.

The last Tudor monarch died at Richmond Palace at the age of sixty nine after ruling England for forty four years. She was the longest Tudor reigning monarch, and third longest ruling Queen in English history. Elizabeth I was the daughter of Anne Boleyn and Henry VIII. Born on September 7th 1533, she was bastardized three years later following her parents’ annulment and her mother’s execution.

Read more here: https://tudorsandotherhistories.wordpress.com/2016/03/24/the-death-of-queen-elizabeth-i/

#queen elizabeth i of england #renaissance #history #tudor era #royalty #british monarchy

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harryissuchalittleshit · 2 years

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The next gen kids (and their parents?) and which song describes them/is their favourite, please!

I feel like this is going to either break me or be deeply regretted because I’m including all the kids S/Os and the Malfoy and Havings families because they’re all part of my canon.

I will put a break in here so it doesn't take up everyone's whole dash!

Delacour-Weasley

Bill&Fleur

Bill was a teenager in the tail end of the eighties, so I see him being a big rock fan, but his favorite song is nothing anyone would ever expect: Dancing Queen by ABBA, he's just able to let go and dance.

Fleur is a BIG John Denver fan, her favorite song is Back Home Again by John Denver. She would sing it to the kids to wake them up.

Their couple song is Our Last Summer by ABBA

Victoire&SJ

Victoire also loves ABBA, it's her go to music, and she has a soft spot for John Denver from her childhood, but her favorite song is Life On Mars? by David Bowie.

SJ loves classic rock music, it's what he grew up on and it was always played in the original language. His favorite band is AC/DC, favorite song is Thunderstruck.

Dominique

Don't Go Breaking My Heart by the Backstreet Boys! Dominique loves pop and comebacks, she definitely would've gone to see them in concert.

Louis&Anamika

He isn't one for music, but he does love more lyrical songs. Falling by Florence + the Machine is his favorite song though, it reminds him of Anamika and their relationship and he loves that.

Anamika is the first Nott daughter to be allowed to survive, and with that comes a lot of pressure, mostly put on by herself. She likes music she can either sing and get lost in or that will calm her down. Nothing Else I Could Do by Ella Jane is her favorite song as it both calms her down and she can belt the lyrics.

Their couple song is Swimming by Florence + The Machine

Charlie

He isn't really a music person either, but one song he finds himself listening too on repeat is Long Way From Home by The Lumineers.

There is more, but I'm going to put a cut in here so if you're interested keep read!

Phillips-Weasley

Percy&Audrey

Percy loves rock music, he loves Queen more than anything, and his favorite song is Killer Queen by Queen. He thinks it makes for great driving music and will trade off with Audrey on trips. Audrey loves three artists as they remind her of her family, Fleetwood Mac, the Eagles, and Billy Joel. Her favorite song is Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac. Their couple song is You're My Home by Billy Joel

Molly&Artie

Molly grew up listening to the said four bands above, her favorite song is Landslide by Fleetwood Mac. But the song everyone thinks is her is Yellow by Coldplay. Artie grew up listening to a lot of pop music, but he likes nineties pop best, Always Be My Baby by Mariah Carey is his absolute favorite song. Their couple song is One Night by Ed Sheeran

Lucy&Devon

Lucy loves pop, but is definitely more of a punk rock girl. She loves to dance, even if the music isn't appropriate. Proof by Paramore is her favorite song, especially the live version. Devon is much more of a podcast guy, but he also loves punk rock music and has a soft spot for the Weird Sisters. High Hopes by Panic! At The Disco is his absolute favorite song and he manages to slip it into his radio show at least once a day. Their couple song is English Rose by Ed Sheeran

Johnson-Weasley

George&Angelina

George fell out with music after his accident, and then completely after Fred died. His grief held him down so much and made him unable to enjoy music. But he choose the song that he and Angelina had their first dance to at their wedding, it was How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You) by Marvin Gaye. Angelina grew up listening to a lot of Motown music from her grandmamma's influence, and also reggae from her father's childhood in Jamaica. Her favorite song is Best Of My Love by The Emotions.

Freddie&LeeAnne

Freddie loves anything that he can dance too, but has a great appreciation for the classics Angelina raised him on. Sir Duke by Stevie Wonder always makes him smile! LeeAnne likes music that makes her feel powerful and confident, her favorite song is Holy by King Princess, and always gives her a boost when needed. Their couple song is Time's Always Leaving by The Lone Bellow

Roxanne&Sean&Sasha

Roxanne has been through so much and hurt so much in her life, so everything she listens to is an affirmation to herself that she is worthy and loved and beautiful. Brave by Sara Bareilles is her go to song for a confidence booster. Sean loves so deeply and completely anyone that he meets, he has always been warm and bright and lovely. Photograph by Ed Sheeran is the best song to describe him, it's so bittersweet and just...just Sean died with his little brother Mason, on his way to go and propose to Roxanne. He had this whole big life planned out and it was taken too soon. Sasha, she is loud and wild and brilliant, she loves with every part of her soul and Juice by Lizzo is the best song to describe her. It's fun and playful and so full of confidence and energy that it just screams Sasha to me. Roxanne and Sean's song is Give Me Love by Ed Sheeran Roxanne and Sasha's song is Hold My Hand by Jess Glynne

Granger-Weasley

Ron&Hermione

Ron loves the song Love Grows (Where My Rosemary Goes) by Edison Lighthouse to the point that he insisted that it was his and Hermione's first dance song at their wedding. Hermione on the other hand is Wannabe by the Spice Girls, it reminds her of her childhood before everything changed, even if it came out during the beginning of the worst part of the war.

Rose

Rose loves nineties music, growing up she listened to Hermione's extensive collection of old mix tapes she keeps in her car, but she also had the influence of her Abuelo Javier's Latin music and Grandma Jane's love of Motown and musicals. Seeing as she was born in 2005, her favorite artist would be Taylor Swift (Red as her favorite album) and her favorite song is Begin Again (Taylor's Version). The song that best describes her is When You're Home from In The Heights.

Hugo&Lyla

Hugo grew up with the same love for Latin music as his abuelo and the same Motown/blues/soul influence from his grandma. He also loves anything upbeat that he can run to, Outta My Head by Khalid with John Mayer is his current favorite. (Rose can forgive him for this) Lyla has her anxiety disorder, so anything that can help her calm down or be confident is for her. She also loves Taylor Swift (Folklore is her album, you can fight her on it) but the song that is her is I Wanna Get Better by The Bleachers. Their couple song is Invisible String by Taylor Swift.

Potter/Lupin

Harry&Ginny

Harry is One by U2, it just fits his personality and I won't take any hate for it. Ginny loves cheesy pop songs, especially the ones that came out in the late eighties/early nineties. Her favorite song is The One And Only by Chesney Hawkes, it always makes her smile. Their couple song is Precious Love by James Morrison

James&Marci

James loves just general shitty rap/pop music, his current favorite song is How To Play The Flute by Macklemore featuring King Draino. When he gets a bit older and goes through some life events, his favorite song will change to Everything I Own by Bread. Marci is a sucker for a sad song with a bit of a story, her favorite song is Ivy by Taylor Swift.

Al&Maggie

Al likes anything indie/folky/singer/songwriter-ish, but the song that best fits him is Stressed Out by Twenty One Pilots. His favorite song is Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift, though he will never ever admit it to anyone. Maggie is a full on Taylor-stan and Evermore is her favorite album! She will happily tell anyone that Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift is her favorite song. Their couple song is Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift

Lily&Ryan

Lily loves anything that she can dance to, and before she was attacked her song was I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston but then changed to Fake Happy by Paramore. Her favorite song is 1 Step Forward, 3 Steps Back by Olivia Rodrigo. Ryan just loves music, and he loves to make his own mixtapes and mashups of songs, anything for Lily to create choreography too. His all time favorite song is B-A-B-Y by Carla Thomas. Their couple song is whywhywhy by Misterwives

Teddy&Annabelle

Teddy's very first memory is someone singing the Weird Sisters to him, and he's sure that it was his Nan Andromeda, but he can't be sure. He grew up listening to all of Remus' old records, and he had a big collection, having inherited all of his friends records before they passed. His absolute favorite song is I'll Follow The Sun by The Beatles. Annabelle also grew up listening to oldies from when her grandparents were young. Her favorite song is Yesterday by The Beatles. Their couple song is Eight Days A Week by The Beatles

Lovegood-Longbottom

Neville&Luna

Neville likes softer music, acoustic instruments and more singer/songwriter vibes. His favorite song is Help Yourself by Sad Brad Smith. Luna also likes singer/songwriter indie music, her mum left behind a shelf full of things just for Luna in the event of her untimely death. On it was the vinyl of Tapestry by Carole King, Luna's favorite song is I Feel The Earth Move by Carole King, it just makes her feel closer to her mum. Their couple song is Brand New Key by Melanie

Lorcan

Lorcan grew up with the influence of Luna's music, his favorite song is Make You Feel My Love by Bob Dylan, but he usually tells people that it's the Adele cover. His and Dominique's couple song is Daylight by Taylor Swift

Lysander

Lysander like slightly more folky music, his favorite song is Hopeless Wanderer by Mumford & Sons. He also feels like it describes his childhood before his father left them.

Frankie

Frankie is punk rock all the way, he has always felt a weight on his shoulders and clouds over his head. He battled depression for a very long time until it was too much for him to handle. His favorite song is Adam's Song by Blink-182.

Ali

Ali also likes punk rock music, but before her mum left and died, and before Frankie lost his life, her favorite song was Perfect by One Direction. After the tragedy in her life, her song is Home Is Such A Lonely Place by Blink-182.

Malfoy

Draco&Astoria

Draco is so dramatic, he would tell people it was something super niche, but his favorite song is Rich Girl by Hall & Oats. It makes Astoria roll her eyes every time he plays it, but it's always accompanied with a smile. Astoria was introduced to Taylor Swift by her niece and goddaughter Lyla, her favorite song is Paper Rings by Taylor Swift. Though before that it was Just Like Heaven by the Cure. Their couple song is Hear You Me by Jimmy Eat World

Scorpius

Scorpius loves eighties music, especially eighties pop! He 100% thinks that the best music came out of this decade, something he and Rose fight about often. His favorite song is Dancing In The Dark by Bruce Springsteen. His and Rose's couple song is Love Of My Life by Queen

Havings

Romulus&Annie

Romulus grew up listening to a lot of rock music, he likes something that wakes him up and gets him moving. His favorite song is Let's Dance by David Bowie. Annie also grew up listening to a lot of rock, but she also loves pop music. Her favorite song is Little Miss Can't Be Wrong by Spin Doctors Their couple song is New Year's Day by Taylor Swift

Becca

Becca loves Taylor Swift, Ariana Grande, and Carly Rae Jepsen. She is a pop queen princess, a reputation-stan, and her favorite song is King Of My Heart by Taylor Swift. But the song that best describes her is Imagine by Ariana Grande. Her and Lysander's couple song is Only Want You by Rita Ora

Remus

Remus is a big Beatles fan, he loves classic rock (even though Romulus would be disappointed to hear it being called 'classic'). Despite the Beatles being his favorite band his favorite song is What I'm Looking For by Brenden Benson. His and Ali's couple song is Yesterday by The Beatles

If you want to know about any other characters or families, just let me know, this just took soooooooo long to write and figure out and put links in.

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