35 Portland Row Crew I Drew With My Newly Bought Markers! Feeling Rather Proud Of This, Probably Best

me core…

creds: @locklylestan on TikTok

Cas - ‘A Nephilim has come into being.’

Deans facial expression - *are we pregnant?*

Lockwood: Good, thanks Dad

Lucy: You just called Barnes “dad”

Lucy: You just said “thanks, dad.”

Lockwood: What? No, I didn’t. I said “thanks, man.”

Lucy: like you’d ever say that

Barnes: Do you see me as a father figure?

Lockwood: No

Lockwood: If anything I see you as a bother figure because you’re always bothering me

George: HEY!

George: show your father some respect

Don't mess with a teenage girl and her emotional support skull

I know the skull was scorched after the explosion but I forgot ijbol

Realizing that Lockwood was protecting Lucy the whole time by taking all the fame and attention onto his shoulders. He wasn’t the one who should’ve been praised, it was Lucy. He was just a screen that was pulled down to protect her and her gift.

Get that sausage girl!

Sexy, right? 😂 

Yes @impala-dreamer it is. Thank you for sending it. 

~

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You answered Dean as you grabbed a slice of pizza from the box.

“Slide that over here would ya?”

“Sure. This is the sausage, or did you want the pep…” Your voice trailed off when you closed the lid and you saw Dean. He was crooking to fingers at you. Two fingers that not so long ago were making your eyes roll back.

The smug smile on his face told you he knew exactly what he was doing to you. You knew you’d been silent for too long when you saw the look Sam was giving you.

“Sorry.” You laughed. “Completely zoned there for a minute.”

“Have you not been getting sleep?” Sam asked, concern obvious in his voice. “You’ve been kinda spacey for the past few days.”

The truth was, he was right. Dean had been occupying most of your alone time, and teasing every chance he got. You felt riled up constantly and it was getting harder and harder to keep your budding relationship quiet like you’d promised each other.

“Yeah, Y/N/N. Something keeping you up all hours of the night?” Dean sassed.

Instead of answering either of them, you took an extra large bite of pizza and looked at anything but a Winchester.

“Are you two? I KNEW IT!” Sam yelped.

Dean pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows, “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about Sammy.”

“Oh my God. Seriously, how long?”

“Guys can we just eat? I’m starving.” You tried to push the conversation to the side.

“No.” They replied, at the same time.

“How long have you been sleeping together?”

“It’s none of your business!” You snapped.

“Ha! So I am right.”

“Fuck.”

“Alright, alright.” Dean spoke up. “Long enough. Now, drop it.”

Sam just smiled, shook his head and went back to his pizza.

Dean stood, and walked over to you. “I wanted the sausage.” He said softly and bent down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. He didn’t say anything else, just grabbed the box of pizza and returned to his seat.

“Apparently so does Y/N.”

“Sam!”

daylight .ᐟ

Paring; dean x reader

Prompt; 'I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night. And now I see daylight, I only see daylight'

Requested; @jellyfishjo

Notes; requests are open again!

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

For as long as he could remember his whole life had been shrouded in darkness. From the first lick of fire which took his childhood home, Dean’s life had seemed to dull to the same colour as the ash which had covered his brother's nursery the morning after.

The last time Dean Winchester saw light was when his mother kissed him goodnight before turning back to his little brother.

In some ways, he thought it was the universe playing some sick joke. His life had gone up in flames so bright that his eyes had watered only glancing towards the house, only for the sun to come up and cast his world into a neverending darkness. 

Tragedy, after tragedy, after tragedy.

That was until he met you. 

The first time he’d laid eyes on you it was almost as if for the first time in his adult life the sun finally seemed to peak over the horizon. Even now, the darkness of night surrounding you both like a blanket the world seemed lighter.

“You okay?” Your voice broke through the silence, the wind blowing your hair gently as you turned to look at him from where you were sitting on the hood of his car. He hummed leaning back against the hood. “M’fine.” He said turning to face you fully.

“Really? Cause you look like you're about to give yourself an aneurysm.” You joked lightly your hand finding his on instinct. You squeezed his hand for a moment as he rolled his eyes. “That's a lotta large words sweetheart.” He mused, a playful glint in his eyes. 

You raised an eyebrow gently pulling him closer, to stand in front of you. “Do you even know what an aneurysm is?”

Dean scoffed. “Course I know what it is? I did go to class…sometimes.” He smiled rubbing his free hand over your knee.

“Yeah. Sometimes.” You squeezed his hand again as he rolled his eyes, his finger jabbing into your knee for a moment. 

You both fell quiet again, eyes on the sky above. The night was surprisingly clear for September, the moon cast a dim light across the field you’d both taken refuge in for the moment. The stars themselves seemed to be out in the masses, a sight which was so rare and almost jaw-droppingly beautiful.

Dean’s gaze flicks back from the sky to you, his face showing a rare moment of vulnerability as his eyes trace the shape of your face, watching the way your eyes seem to light up just slightly in the moonlight.

His thumb rubbed over the back of your hand as he cupped your cheek with the other. Your own eyes moved back to him, a small smile tugging at your lips as his thumb brushed your lips for a moment.

“I love you.” 

Dean’s voice was barely a whisper as his eyes darted over your face, logging details he’d long since memorised. “I love you too.” Your voice matched his as you subconsciously leaned into his hand.

His own lips pulled into a smile as he hummed lowly. He could happily live in this bubble forever. 

You, him, his car, and peace.

He knew in the morning you’d both go back to everyday life, back to the horrors which were your normal and this simplicity would fade away until you had enough time to yet again step into this small bubble.

Yet, for the first time in his life, he realised he didn't hold resentment to the idea. Hunting was okay, he was used to it. It was his normal. The darkness had become his normal, had been his normal.

Yet the darkness didn’t seem to matter anymore. 

For the first time in almost 20 years, he finally saw the light again. 

New to tumblr, but I want to start posting here too since LockNation is spread out across multiple platforms 🥰⚔️💚. Here’s my drawing for the summer thinking cloth!! 🪻🌿✨

DEAN + WINE

not to be insane about her on main but you know I never stopped thinking about jessica right. you know I never stopped thinking about jess lockwood

shes like. she's JESS.

shes haunting the narrative. she's haunting lockwood. shes haunting nothing at all, in the literal sense, which is rather strange. shes in Lucy's face and the way she stands at the door. shes got lockwoods eyes, or maybe hes got hers. she's burned into her bedset. she's burned into her house. she's burned into wood. she's a broken pot. she's a clumsy rapier. she's waiting at the apple tree. shes sleeping under her covers. she likes stickers. she's a kid, she's a guardian, she's not going to take off the baby wallpaper in her bedroom. she's clung to youth. she's forced to grow up. she's younger than her baby brother. she's the world. shes important enough to die for. she's important enough to live because of. she's blue and swollen and on the floor and dead. she's pale and smiling and holding her brother in her lap, immortalized, shoved in a dresser drawer because somebody couldnt handle seeing her face.

she's that important. she's that important.

she's a lockwood, she's a mirror, she's lucy joan carlyle and anthony john lockwood and a reminder and a child and doomed, doomed, doomed in such a way that she could save everyone else.

she's the boxes lockwood couldn't open. she's the right time. she's warm feathers and stitches purposefully undone.

in her childishly wallpapered room, she is sitting, watching, cross legged on her bed.