Realizing That Lockwood Was Protecting Lucy The Whole Time By Taking All The Fame And Attention Onto

i need luke thoughts…… im having luke/charlie bushnell brain rot…….

ok omg hi i just saw this & i’m in the mood for it SOOOO…. first thought that came to mind is luke is DEF the kind of bf to let you colour his tattoos 😫 he’d also 100% have your initial or name or smth tattooed somewhere on him…. probs was his first one too actually! i imagine it to be on his chest right above his heart and whenever u get jealous or upset or smth he just takes your hand and guides it to where the tattoo is and says smth like “no one else lives here but you” HOW COULD ANYONE BE MAD AT THAT???? 😣 luke is also a very good cook/baker except he specializes in breakfast foods specifically cause if one kid in the hermes cabin woke up earlier than usual they’d wake up all the others (i feel like anyone who’s lived in that cabin turns into a light sleeper out of fear LMAO 😭) n then they’d all wanna eat breakfast so luke would sneak into the kitchen n make pancakes n wtv 😇 (soz if chb doesn’t have a kitchen my pjo has been RUSTY LMAO) he doesn’t seem like the type to be this good at making food tho so you’re a little skeptical at first but he eventually convinces you to try one bite andddd let’s just say you will never be visiting a restaurant ever again 😁 also he & jason r part of the ARMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! club 😫 his arms r acc his fave feature and he LOVESSS when you’re walking together and you have your arms wrapped around his 😣 he always teases you about it too but then HE gets all upset if you separate yourself from him while you’re walking 🙁

Safety

Word Count: 1,398 Pairing: Dean x Reader Summary: After being rescued from a terrifying ordeal, you struggle to come to terms with the trauma of your captivity. Trigger Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping and captivity, Panic attacks, Trauma response

Masterlist

The world felt like it had shattered into a million pieces. You were conscious, but barely. Your mind raced, heart pounded, and all you could hear was the echo of your own ragged breathing. The darkness around you was oppressive, and even though the danger had passed, you couldn’t shake the feeling of terror that gripped your entire being.

You didn’t know how long you had been in that place. Hours? Days? It was all a blur. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth, cold and unwelcoming. The ropes that had bound your wrists left angry red marks on your skin, now freed but still tingling with the ghost of their restraint. You had been trapped, powerless, at the mercy of someone with no mercy to give. And then, just when it seemed that there was no hope, he came.

Dean Winchester.

He moved like a force of nature, tearing through your captor’s defenses with a precision and ferocity that would have terrified you under different circumstances. But now, you barely registered his presence. The moment the ropes were cut, and you were free, your body crumpled to the ground. You weren’t thinking clearly. Everything was a hazy mix of fear and confusion.

Dean’s hands were on you, gentle yet firm, guiding you to stand. He spoke to you, his voice low and steady, but the words didn’t register. You were too far gone, too lost in the echoes of your terror. Your eyes darted around the room, looking for threats that no longer existed, unable to focus on the one person who had brought you to safety.

“Y/N,” Dean’s voice was sharp, pulling at the edges of your fractured consciousness. You flinched but didn’t respond. You were hyperventilating now, your breaths coming in short, panicked gasps. The walls of the room seemed to close in on you, and you could feel your pulse throbbing in your ears. The shadow of your captor lingered in your mind, more terrifying now that you were free than when you were under his control.

Dean grabbed your shoulders, his grip grounding you even as you trembled. “Y/N, listen to me,” he said, his voice more urgent now. “You’re safe. You hear me? You’re safe. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

But it was as if you couldn’t hear him. Your mind was trapped in a loop, replaying the worst moments over and over again. The fear was paralyzing, consuming every rational thought you tried to muster. Your gaze darted to the shadows in the room, convinced you saw movement, convinced he was still there, watching, waiting.

Dean’s fingers gently gripped your chin, trying to direct your attention to him, but you kept looking away, still searching for a threat that was no longer there. His voice softened as he called your name again, “Y/N, hey, look at me. Don’t look at him, look at me.”

His words broke through the fog, but only slightly. You looked past him, still not really seeing him, eyes wide with terror. Dean’s jaw tightened with concern, his own heart aching as he saw how deeply the experience had shaken you. He didn’t know all the details, but he could see the toll it had taken.

Slowly, deliberately, he moved closer, positioning himself directly in your line of sight, blocking out everything else. “Hey, look at me,” he repeated, his tone both commanding and reassuring. His hands moved from your chin to cup your face, his thumbs brushing away tears you hadn’t even realized were falling.

You flinched slightly at the contact, but Dean didn’t let go. He kept his grip gentle, but firm enough to keep your focus. His green eyes were locked on yours, filled with an intensity that cut through the haze. “It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice low and steady. “You’re safe now. I’m here.”

You blinked, the first signs of recognition starting to filter through the panic. His presence was like a lifeline, something tangible and real to cling to in the sea of chaos inside your head. Slowly, your breathing began to slow, the frantic gasps easing into more controlled, albeit shaky, breaths.

“There you go,” Dean said softly, his thumbs continuing their soothing motions against your cheeks. “That’s it, just keep breathing with me, okay? In and out, nice and slow.”

You nodded faintly, your eyes finally locking onto his. The connection steadied you, anchoring you back to reality. Dean’s face was a mixture of concern and relief, his gaze unwavering as he guided you back from the brink.

“There you are,” he murmured, a small, reassuring smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’ve got you, Y/N. You’re safe.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry and tight, but you managed to speak, your voice barely above a whisper. “He… he was going to…”

Dean’s expression darkened for a moment, but he quickly pushed the anger aside, focusing on you. “But he didn’t,” he said firmly. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, okay? Not ever.”

The conviction in his voice was comforting, and you felt a tiny bit of the weight lift from your chest. You nodded again, more assuredly this time, and Dean released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said softly, his hands still cradling your face for a moment longer before he let them fall to your sides. He stayed close, his presence solid and reassuring as he helped you to your feet. Your legs were shaky, but Dean kept a steady hand on your arm, guiding you out of the dark, oppressive space that had held you captive.

As you stepped outside, the cool night air hit your face, a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere inside. The world seemed brighter, more alive, and with Dean by your side, you felt the fear begin to ebb away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief.

Dean led you to the Impala, his hand never leaving yours. He opened the passenger door for you, and you slid into the familiar seat. The leather was warm, the scent of the car instantly calming your frayed nerves. Dean rounded the car quickly, getting in beside you, and for a moment, the two of you just sat there in silence.

Finally, you turned to him, your voice still shaky but filled with gratitude. “Thank you, Dean. I… I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t…”

“Don’t think about that,” Dean interrupted gently, his hand reaching out to cover yours. “You’re here, you’re safe, and that’s all that matters. We’ll deal with the rest later.”

You nodded, squeezing his hand in return, the warmth of his touch grounding you further. “I don’t know how to thank you,” you whispered.

Dean’s eyes softened, and he gave you a small, reassuring smile. “You don’t have to,” he said quietly. “Just take care of yourself, okay? That’s all I need.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the last of the fear start to melt away. Dean was right; you were safe. With him, you always would be. And as the Impala roared to life and the road stretched out before you, you knew that no matter what came next, you wouldn’t be facing it alone.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @jc-winchester @whump-loverz @pizzagirlxnsfwx @king-of-milf-lovers

Cas - ‘A Nephilim has come into being.’

Deans facial expression - *are we pregnant?*

35 Portland Row crew I drew with my newly bought markers! Feeling rather proud of this, probably best traditional art from me in ever

I really want to make a really pretty oil painting of Lockwood and then do the thing where they smudge it to look all ghostly

The Cracking of a Cold Heart

Summary: "Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and oftentimes we call a man cold when he is only sad." – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Pairings: Dean x Reader (Reader's 1st person POV)

Warnings: None. Angst. Fluff.

Word Count: 2,804

A/N: So, while watching an episode of Criminal Minds the other day, the above quote by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was at the opening of the episode and it just struck me as very Dean. 😢 So, I had to write him something. Hope you enjoy! ❤️

“You're still awake?”

I asked the obvious question as I walked into the kitchen to see Dean sitting at the table, slowly swirling amber liquid inside a crystal glass.

He nodded. “Yep. You too.” 

“Yeah, I just came to get some water; it's so dry in this bunker, don't you think?”

Dean just grunted. 

“Maybe we could add some humidifiers, or something.” I said awkwardly.

A shrug was my only answer.

Dean's rough, coldness still made me nervous around him sometimes, especially when he was in an overly grumpy or frosty mood like this. Even though we'd been working together for a year and roommates for at least half that time, I always felt like I just annoyed the hell out of him.

I decided I should just go and leave him alone with his whiskey. I poured my glass of water quickly and nodded towards him as I left.

“K, goodnight.”

“Yeah, night.”

I went back to my bedroom, just down the hall from Dean's, and sighed as I walked through the door. I really wanted things to be different. I wanted to make him like me.

Actually, what I really wanted was to make him love me.

But I'd settle for getting more than grunts and one word answers from him most of the time. 

He’d always been gruff with me, never seemed to want me around. It was always Sam that let me know about hunts and invited me along. And every time I joined them, Sam had to fight his brother to let me leave the car when they got out to fight the bad guys.

He clearly thought I was a shitty hunter too. 

So, he'd surprised me with how quickly he'd agreed to let me stay at the bunker when I told the boys about a demon I was dealing with that seemed particularly fixated on me. Sam convinced me it was safest there and Dean had agreed, though he was scowling the whole time. I couldn't help but think he only let me stay cause he didn't want me to die.

Not wanting me to die wasn't exactly friendship, but I supposed it was better than not caring one way or the other. So, I'd agreed to move in. The demon had been taken care of quickly with the boys help, but I stayed on.

I liked it there, and despite Dean's usual attitude towards me, I was happy in the bunker. Sam and Dean were funny and their dark, sarcastic humor, especially Dean's, often made me laugh in situations that would otherwise demand only horror.

It was also the safest I'd ever felt. 

Because no matter how he felt about me, I knew beyond a doubt that Dean would always have my back and look out for me. That was just the kinda guy he was.

If only I could actually make him want me around.

An idea dawned on me as I climbed back into bed. Maybe that was why Dean wasn't warming up to me. Maybe he felt like I was overstaying my welcome there. It made sense; they'd invited me to stay while I was in danger, and then I just never left.

I was embarrassed that I hadn’t thought of it earlier. I would talk to the boys in the morning, I decided, and then fell into a restless sleep, thinking about where I'd end up when I left.

The next morning I walked into the kitchen to see Dean sitting at the table in the exact same spot as the night before, his whiskey replaced with a cup of coffee. 

“Morning.” I said shyly.

“Mmm.” Dean said around his cup as he took a sip. 

I started to get things together to make my breakfast, looking over my shoulder. “I'm making oatmeal, did you want some?”

Dean shook his head. “N’ah. M’good.” He mumbled in his deep, craggy voice, staring at the table. 

“Okay.” I said, sighing at his usual taciturn answer.

I put the water on to boil, salting it slightly, and then turned back to him just as he stood up and walked towards me. He drained his cup along the way and then reached past me to put it in the sink.

I made the mistake of taking a deep breath as he leaned close and I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning. God, why did he always have to smell so good? Why did he have to radiate warmth from his big, broad, flannel-covered chest, so that I desperately wanted to cuddle into him. 

Completely unaffected, Dean turned to leave, but I put my hand out, touching his arm to stop him from going. I could feel an almost imperceptible flinch from him and I pulled my hand back, embarrassed that he was literally recoiling from my touch.

“Sorry.” I said as my cheeks got pink. “I was wanting to talk to you and Sam. Do you know when-” 

Just then we could hear the screech of the bunker door as Sam returned from his morning run.

“Perfect timing.” I said with an awkward chuckle.

I left the kitchen, glad that Dean followed so I could talk to them both at once. We met Sam at the bottom of the stairs. He pulled out his ear bud, still breathing deeply. 

“Hey.” He said with a small smile. He looked back and forth between me and Dean. “What's up?”

“Oh nothing, really.” I said, waving away the conversation's importance. “I just wanted to talk to you guys. I've…well, I was thinking about it and I realized, I mean now that there's no demon tracking me, no one threatening me, I should probably move out. You know?”

Sam scowled and shook his head. “We're hunters, we're always under threat. This is still the safest place for you. Why would you leave?”

I shrugged. “Well, I mean, I've been here a long time.” Sam scoffed at that, but I continued. “And I don't wanna…you know. I just think I should get out of your hair.”

“Don't be stupid. You're not in our hair. You should stay. Right, Dean?” He asked his older brother.

I looked back at Dean and he didn't say anything for a moment, just stared at the ground. Then he shrugged and looked up. His face was the same cold, indifferent mask I'd seen him wear so many times before. 

“If she wants to go, can't stop her.”

I smiled thinly, a small pinch of hurt starting in my chest. 

“Yep,” I said in a cheerful tone. “Can't stop me.”

Sam started to speak, but I waved him away. “No. Seriously, I should get my own place. But I really appreciate you guys letting me crash here for so long.”

I stood on tiptoe to give Sam a kiss on the cheek and then tossed Dean a smile which was all I could manage before taking off, heading back to my bedroom so I could start looking for a new place to live.

About an hour later, as I was on my computer looking at apartments, there was a light knock on my door.

“Come in!” I called, expecting Sam's tall frame to walk through. Instead the door swung open and Dean was there. 

I was shocked and I set my laptop down beside me on the bed, sitting up straight. Not once in the six months I'd lived there, had Dean knocked on my door; nor had he ever sought me out for anything.

“Hi.” I said lamely.

He nodded at me as he walked slowly into the room. 

We were quiet for a moment before I cleared my throat. “Do you need something?”

Dean pushed out his lips and shoved his hands in his pockets, shrugging his broad shoulders.

“I, uh…I wanted to…Sam said that he thought you were…” He rolled up onto the balls of his feet a couple of times as he paused.

I raised a quizzical eyebrow and Dean scowled, pulling his hands out of his pockets so he could cross his arms over his chest. The flannel pulled tight across his shoulders and biceps, thoroughly distracting me. 

But then he spoke roughly and brought my attention back to him.

“Sammy thinks you're just leaving cause of me, so I need you to tell him it's not true.”

I wasn't surprised that Sam had read me so well, he wasn't easily fooled and I often thought he might know about my unrequited feelings for Dean. 

But I shook my head. “No, of course not. It's not you. It's just time.”

Dean nodded and looked away. “K well, tell my dipshit little brother that will you, so he gets off my back?”

He sounded angry and for some reason his anger annoyed me. I was moving out, leaving, just so that he’d be happy, and he still wasn’t. 

“Sure.” I attempted a teasing tone, but it didn’t really work. “I'll get right on it. Right after I find a new place to live.”

Dean scowled at me again, but this time I scowled back. 

Something seemed to occur to Dean and though his voice was rough, he sounded slightly shocked when he spoke. “You are leaving because of me. Why?”

I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck like that. “Oh, I don't know Dean. I can't imagine why I'd think you don't want me around when you're always so warm and welcoming. Always so eager to chat and hangout. I must just be crazy!”

Dean's frown etched deeper on his brow. “So you're leaving cause I'm not acting like your bestie? I'm not friendly enough for you?”

“I’m leaving because you hate me and obviously don’t want me around!” I shouted.

Silence rang out and my embarrassment filled it. I stood up from my bed and brushed past him, calling back to him as I left.

“Look, don't worry about it. I'll tell Sam it's not your fault so he leaves you alone.”

I left quickly, but I wasn't sure where to go. I couldn't stay in my bedroom with Dean there, but I didn't want to run into Sam either. So I ended up hiding in the gym, hoping neither of them would find me there.

But that plan didn't work very well, since minutes later Dean strode through the door. I growled slightly in frustration. All I wanted was to avoid further confrontation about this.

My voice was quiet, trying to discourage any more conversation. “Look, let's just leave it alone, okay? It's fine.”

“No it's not.” Dean responded.

I let out a little huff. “I’ll be gone in a few days, and everything can just go back to normal for you guys.”

Dean stared at me. “No it won’t. I don't want you to go.”

I scoffed and stood up from the bench. “Dean, enough. I told you it's fine. I'll make sure Sam doesn't blame you.”

I walked towards the door, aware I was going to have to get past him to leave. I gave him a wide berth but he sidestepped to intercept me. 

“I don't want you to go.” He repeated quietly.

“Yeah, okay.” I said sarcastically. “If you say-” 

In a blink Dean grabbed hold of my upper arms and yanked me forward so that I stumbled into him, gasping. His mouth crashed down on mine and I squealed in surprise.

He kissed me hard and quick, stroking up into the roof of my mouth with his wide tongue and then ripping himself away from me.

He was breathing hard as he stared down at me and spoke in a rough whisper. 

“I don't want you to go.”

I just blinked at him, confusion overwhelming me. “What…what are you…what?”

“I don't want you to go.” He repeated for the fourth time. “But you should go. You should run long and far and never look back.” His voice sounded desperate.

I was so confused. “What are you talking about?”

He cupped my cheeks and kissed me again slowly, sweetly. I started to comprehend what was actually going on and I felt like my mind was going to explode. He left me reeling, my whole world turning upside down in disbelief as he pulled away from my lips to bury his face in my neck and kiss his words into my skin. 

“God, Sweetheart, all I dream about is you; you're all I see when I close my eyes. But you can't stay; you can't love me back.”

I listened to his words as I dropped my head back so he had better access to all the sensitive spots on my neck.

“…you can't love me back…”

My voice was breathless and bemused as I spoke. “But you don’t love me…you can't love me…you don't even like me.”

Dean pulled back to look me in the eye and I was shocked to see that his eyes were slightly glassy. I shook my head again, though I didn't know why I was trying so hard to deny his words when they were what I'd wanted to hear for so long. 

But I continued. “No, it’s not possible.” I said. “You don't like me. You're always angry at me, cold and distant. You think I'm a shitty hunter; I'm a burden and liability to have with you on cases.” 

I was shaking my head. “You leave me in the car!”

Dean closed his eyes and spoke quietly. “I leave you in the car because when you're with us I'm completely distracted trying to make sure nothing happens to you; I can't  do my job properly. And I'm cold and distant with you because…”

He opened his eyes slowly. “Because I know I can't have you.”

For the first time since I'd known him, I could easily read the emotion swirling in his deep, forest green eyes. And what I saw was just immense sadness.

He shook his head. “I can't have you.”

“What do you mean, you ‘can’t have me’? Says who?” I asked croakily, my throat constricted.

His jaw clenched and he looked away from me, over my shoulder. “Every single person that's been ripped out of my life since I was four years old. And the list is long, so very long. They're all telling me over and over that loving you is a selfish, impossible daydream. They're screaming at me from the grave, reminding me that trying to hold on to you is going to get you killed.” 

He was staring past me as though he could actually see the ghosts that haunted him, could hear their words of warning.

“You know,” I said with a sniffle as my eyes and nose started watering, “I think that might be the most you've ever said to me at one time.”

Dean let out a puff of air that wasn't quite a laugh, and he shook his head again. “I don't want you to go, but you should go.”

I swallowed several times, the tears still flowing as I realized that all of this was really happening. 

He loved me. Truly. 

Finally I dashed away my tears and sniffled again. “Not a chance, Dean Winchester. You say you love me? Well, great, cause I love you too.” 

He pulled in a stuttered breath and I could see the fear in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak again and I took the chance to steal a kiss, pressing close to him and winding my arms around his neck. 

He let out what I hoped was a groan of capitulation and wrapped his arms around my ribs, squeezing me to him tightly and deepening the kiss. His tongue swept through my mouth, exploring every inch, pulling soft moans from the back of my throat as I raked my nails through his hair and he shuddered against me.

After kissing me senseless for several minutes, he broke it off so we could both suck air into our starving lungs. He rested his forehead against mine and I could still hear the sadness in his voice and it made my heart ache. 

“If you stay here with me, you can’t ever leave. Okay? Promise me if you stay, if we love each other out loud, promise me it'll be okay. That I won’t have to live without you, that you’ll always be safe.”

He touched my lips briefly with his, and then spoke against them, whispering. “I couldn’t take it. So promise. Even if it's a lie. Promise me anyway.”

“I promise.” I told him with my whole heart, and sealed it with a kiss.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 * @alwaystiredandconfused @jzackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly * @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya * @arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78 @kr804573

* @whimsyfinny * Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world @aylacavebear * Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 * @waywardcheshire @libby99hb * Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 * @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester * @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @stoneyggirl2 @fanfic-n-tabulous

“Cas! What the hell are you doing in here?!” Dean practically yelped. Castiel stood frozen, phone in one hand, the other half-raised and immediately forgotten. His mouth hung open as if every functioning brain cell had spontaneously vacated the premises. His eyes were growing to a worrying size with each passing second, steadfastly fixed at waist level. He unabashedly stared at the frilly pink lace peeking out of Dean’s ripped, borderline-offensive cut-off jean shorts. Both men stopped breathing. An entirely awkward second later with Dean's face color shifting through exciting undiscovered shades of red, Castiel swallowed audibly.  Dean stared daggers. “You know what, Cas? I own it." A wet sponge hitting Castiel square in the face pulled him back into reality. "Now get working and help me clean Baby!"

I HAD SO MUCH FUN DRAWING THIS!! I should draw more ridiculous things in the future :D

Prints available here!

👉COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN👈

[my social media links]

I smile like an idiot when I see my man, who’s not my man, on my television screen.

Help me, he's soooooooooooooooooooo

Something I find so absolutely fascinating in Lockwood and Co. is the way in which the text reminds you you're reading about children - the kids live in this world where necessity has forced them to function as adults for most of their lives, but rather than just allowing them to have taken on these adult positions we see them be so silly and sweet. They all have an obnoxious sweet tooth, Lockwood has a bin of costumes and seems to use them wholly unnecessarily and dramatically. He does stupid accents. Hes literally just playing dress up. They're just babies 🥺