Matty’s tattoos are honestly one of my favorite things about him. They’re so beautiful and yet have such deep meanings. I’ve never found tattoos to be so appealing, but Matty has certainly changed that. These, of course, are just a few of the ones he has. He has an anchor on his arm along with a cross and a flower on his legs.
Okay, but tell us what would have cedric's character done had he lived. Do you have any alternative universe in mind?
ok this is probs definitely gonna a bit hedric-y but what else would u expect from me…
cedric lives - idk how let’s ignore that minor detail for now, pettigrew doesn’t cast a killing curse it’s something else, something powerful and horrible but not necessarily fatal and idk who cares basically he lives
harry still brings his body back but only it’s his unconscious body not his dead one and he gets taken to the hospital wing. and when he comes to he sees cho and his parents and they tell him what happened, that he got injured in the maze. they tell him “potter’s gone mad, the poor boy - keeps saying you-know-who is back” and cedric thinks. ok he doesn’t wanna believe it, it can’t be true…but ??? it makes sense. that portkey wasn’t part of the task and that thing in pettigrew’s arms…voldemort….he can’t be back right??but then his family leave and dumbledore comes to see him and they don’t say anything for a bit until cedric asks if it’s true and when dumbledore tells him about the order he signs up immediately because of course he does he’s cedric-too-good-for-this-world-diggory
// 14 DAYS TO GO. Once again, with the ones that never made it, Alatreon, first debuting in Tri! I always loved the majestic way she carried herself. Kayamba, on the other hand, is going simple with his classic pincer mask! CAN YOU BELIEVE WE’RE ONLY TWO WEEKS AWAY NOW?!
Summary: It’s your last year in high school, and you’re failing your prerequisite History class, until your (extremely hot) substitute teacher decides to help you out. Characters: student!reader x teacher!Sam, a few OCs Author: melancauliflowers Warnings: swearing, student/teacher relationship, drama Word Count: 1,994
Note: i read over this listening to love will tear us apart by joy division, and i highly advocate that you do not.
It was Monday morning, and you kept worriedly checking your phone for any sign of Sam trying to get in touch. When you’d reached your house after bolting from his, you’d called him 4 times with no answer. Over the weekend, you’d left him 12 voicemails, and still no response. Not a call. Not a text. Nothing.
Across the corridor, you spotted Lucas. He hadn’t seen you storm up to him until you placed a hard slap on his cheek, wiping the complacence off his face. “What the fuck,” he hissed, “what was that for?” “You ratted me out?” You shoved his shoulders, pushing him into the janitor’s closet to avoid attracting an audience, “We had an agreement, Lucas!” “What are you talking about?” He rubbed his jaw. “Don’t play dumb. The police know about me and Mr Winchester. They came to his house on Saturday morning,” you explained. “Wait,” he scoffed, “you were at his house?” “Not the point.” “Totally the point,” he snickered, “You broke the deal. I didn’t call the fuzz, but, honey, I could have.” “Well, I guess somebody already did it for you. Now, I have nothing else to lose,” you spat, returning to the corridor before calling out: “We’re ‘over’, dumbass.”
You rushed back to your locker, ripping it open and burying your head inside it. This was all too much. If it wasn’t that no good piece of crap, who was it?
“[Y/N],” you looked up in hopes of seeing Sam stand before you. Oh. It was Jack. “Jack, what’s up?” You sighed in attempt to compose yourself. “’What’s up’? I could ask you the same thing,” he was quite evidently pissed off, “I know something’s going on with you, and I’ve respected your decision not to tell me about it until now. Why did you kiss me last week? Why are you seeing Lucas again? Why have you been acting so off?” “I’m wasn’t dating Luke for real,” you muttered, “and I’m not anymore. I just called off the arrangement.” “Arrangement?” His expression twisted with confusion. “I’ll tell you all about it,” your eyes darted to a group of freshmen whispering and pointing to you from a corner, “just not here.” “Here’s as good a place as anywhere else,” he countered. He was right. You were just searching for more excuses. You couldn’t keep pushing away your best friend.
“Fine. The reason why I’ve been acting like this is becau-” “Pardon me,” a policeman interjected, startling both of you, “are you Miss [Y/L/N]?” “Yes,” you gulped, “I am.” “Would you please follow me?” “Whoa, whoa,” Jack’s arm floated between the two of you, “what’s going on here?” “I advise you stay out of this, son.” “Please,” he insisted, “why do you need her?” The officer sighed, removing his cap to scratch his head, “We’ve had someone report a romantic association between Miss [Y/L/N] and her teacher, Mr Sam Winchester, if you must know.”
Jack’s confused expression morphed into sheer incredulity as he looked at you. “That’s impossible,” he said it more to himself. Something in his eyes shifted as he put the pieces together. “Pardon?” The policeman leaned in slightly. “I-I said,” Jack tore his gaze from yours, “that’s impossible, because she has a boyfriend. And it’s pretty serious.” “Is there anyway the police department can speak with this boyfriend?” “You already are,” Jack improvised, weaving his arm around your waist, “in what way can I be of assistance?” “Uh, in no way. For now,” the officer admitted, “it’s just best we’re aware of these things. What’s your name?” He pulled out a small notebook. “Jack Wilson,” he offered the man a humble grin as he scribbled it down. “Thank you, Mr Wilson. We’ll collect your information through the school’s system if required. I’ll need you to come with me now, [Y/N].”
You unwillingly separated yourself from Jack, catching his arm and sliding down until you reached hand. His gave you a quick squeeze and a warm nod, his empathetic gesture sweeping some of the anxiety away. Your smile thanked him in a way words could not as you disconnected, following the policeman down the halls of mumbling students.
You were led to outside the principal’s office, where you sat in the chair and waited for the unknown. “How long will this take?” You questioned the idle officer, “I have to go to class.” The more oblivious you made yourself out to be, the better. “You should be called in soon. They’re just finishing up now.” “'They’?” “Mr Parker is currently speaking with your parents, the offender and the informer.”
The informer? The person who exposed you was in there?
“The offender? As in, Mr Winchester?” “Mr Winchester,” he repeated, “yes. I’ve been ordered not to let you two have any sort of contact until you’ve spoken with the principal.” The door cracked open, and your attention fell on the familiar figure that you’d craved to hear from over the past few days.
Sam looked about as good as a train wreck. He was dressed down, the dark circles under his eyes indicating lack of sleep, his façade completely emotionless. A policewoman was glued to his side, and he didn’t dare look at you as he was escorted to the exit. It only worsened the deep feeling of dread that had grown in the pit of your stomach. You buried the desire to call out his name, throw yourself into those strong arms and kiss him until he didn’t hurt anymore. “Time to go in, sweetheart,” your officer motioned for you to enter the room. At least he was friendly.
Your mind wavered as you entered the room, only having been in it once or twice for talking back to the teacher in 10th grade. But this was so much more than that.
You saw your mother and father beside each other, hand in hand, and each of them giving you a sympathetic look. There was an empty chair in the centre, which you would occupy, and to the right of that was a third party. You didn’t recognise them until they rotated, stone cold eyes leering at you.
“Hello, [Y/N],” Mr Parker said, “take a seat, please.” You did, still astounded at the person who neighboured you. “This is Jessica Moore, she filed the case. Is this the student, Ms Moore?” Mr Parker asked her. “I’ve never met her personally, but if this is [Y/N] [Y/LN], then yes.” Her voice was as icy as her eyes. “Is there anything you’d like to tell us about your teacher, Mr Winchester?” He directed that to you. You could feel everyone staring at you.
“Not necessarily, no,” you shook your head. “He’s substituting for Mrs Doyle. I had a few extra classes with him because I was flunking History.” “A few extra classes that went particularly late,” Jess added, “and I believe you have his mobile number.” “Yeah, he gave it to me in case I had any questions regarding the subject,” you defended. Which was partially true. Kind of. Okay, maybe not. “When I was reunited with Sam the other day, he was distant. I asked why, and he told me he’d met someone else. It was just after you’d had one of your after school classes,” she continued. “And?” You challenged. Jess swallowed. “So, I could only assume that person was you,” her voice raised slightly. “Please, Ms Moore. Do you have any evidence of them having inappropriate relations?” “I saw her at his place on Friday night,” she blurted out, “he’d driven her to his house.”
Your mind raced as you thought up an alibi. Hold up, you already had one.
“There’s no way I could’ve been there,” you fibbed, “I was at Jack Wilson’s house. Mum knows that; I told her.” Your mother nodded her head at the principal before you added: “You can ask Jack, too, if you like. Someone else must have been mistaken for me.”
Fuck, yeah. Nailed it.
“Do you have any other 'evidence’?” Mr Parker huffed at Jess. “Well, technically no, but-” “We take scandals like these very seriously here. I understand you’ve had your intuitions, but with no hard proof, I am afraid that this cannot be taken any further.
"We already have Mrs Lilian Doyle on paid leave, and the teaching gap for 12th Grade History is a very difficult one to fill. With a matter of months until finals, we’ll have to rehire Mr Winchester, if the [Y/L/N] family is comfortable with that,” he cross checked with you and your parents, and you all agreed.
“Thank you for your concerns, but I think we’re done here. Apologies for the confusion, Mr and Mrs [Y/L/N] — you may return to your classes, [Y/N].”
That night, you found yourself hanging around behind Sam’s house. You eyed off the fence, pondering whether or not you should jump it. After circling the block a couple of times with Jack, you’d established that it was completely clear of any possible visitors. Alas, you decided on playing it safe and going around the back. “We can leave, if you’d like,” Jack suggested, hand hanging out of the driver’s window. You’d told him everything, like you’d promised, and he’d been surprisingly okay with it. He agreed to going along with the boyfriend act to reduce any chance of suspicion. Another damn boyfriend act. “It’s okay,” you finally replied, “I’m going in.” “Let me know when you want to be picked up,” Jack smiled, waiting for you to throw yourself over the fence before zooming off.
You knocked twice on the backdoor before it swung open, revealing the same torn up Sam as you’d seen earlier that day. “[Y/N]?” He said in disbelief, his eyes scanning your tranquil surroundings, “Come in, before someone sees you.” You hurried through to the living room. “You shouldn’t be here,” he closed the door behind you. “I know, I’m sorry,” you rubbed your eye with the heel of your hand, “I needed to see you.” He suspired sharply, combing a hand through his knotting hair, “It’s okay.” “I just wanted you to know,” you stepped towards him, embracing his sullen face in your hands, “this doesn’t change anything for me. If it doesn’t change anything for you, that is.”
A genuine smile broke through his restrained features as he placed his hands over yours. “It doesn’t,” he murmured, before ducking his head and giving you a feverish kiss. When you moved apart, your foreheads stayed together, and he mirrored your gesture, bringing his kind grasp to your cheeks. “I love you,” he said with confidence. Your breath caught in your throat as he went on, “Oh, my God, I am so in love with you. And I’m willing to do absolutely whatever it takes to keep us together. I just want to make you happy, [Y/N]. That’s all I want to do.”
You couldn’t muster up any words, so you responded with actions. You kissed him as hard as you could, bringing him as close as you could, taking care of him as much as you could. He landed lengthways on the couch, taking your hand in his and pulling you to lay on top of him. Your lips caressed his with a fiery passion; you were his much needed refuge, and he was yours. “I love you, too, Sam. So much,” you pushed some hair away from his sombre eyes. “I’m sorry I couldn’t answer your calls. They were monitoring me so closely,” he reasoned. “Don’t be stupid,” you tilted your head, “you don’t need to apologise for anything, or anyone.” He knew you were referring to Jess, “Just hold me.”
And he did. You tucked your head under his chin, his arms encircling your body. You breathed in synchronization, and for the first time since Friday night, you felt safe.
Yooo! I've been really fixated on the Monster Hunter books, but it looks like there are so many... ! I want to buy them all, but... well, do you guys happen to have a list of all the art and concept books that are out?
I don’t have a definitive list, but here’s what I was able to find:
As far as the untranslated books go, there are a lot. Most of them are guide books for the games, while others may include artwork that is already in the Illustration books. The links here are all from one website since it looks to me they have a good collection.
The Hunter’s Encyclopedia (2014 reprint linked) has a lot of the concept art that shows up in the Illustration books. However due to the layout the Encyclopedias, it looks like much of the concept art is bigger.
If you know how to read Japanese, and I wish I could to be able to understand this book, it’s the Monster Hunter Hassou no Housoku, or the “Untold Birth Story.” Which I assume means this book goes into a lot of the concepts behind monster hunter!
// 17 DAYS TO GO. Kayamba reporting in with the Ultimate mask to block all unfortunate Diablos charges and dig attacks. And of course, I just can’t NOT draw Diablos when she’s been in every MH game. (except for MH4, because somehow Capcom dun goof’d with that…) Almost there guys, KEEP THE HYPE TRAIN GOING. CHOOOCHOOOO
Summary: It’s your last year in high school, and you’re failing your prerequisite History class, until your (extremely hot) substitute teacher decides to help you out. Characters: student!reader x teacher!Sam, a few OCs Author: melancauliflowers Warnings: swearing, student/teacher relationship, smut, underaged drinking (depending on where you live), very light smut Word Count: 1,703
Note: hey yall, do you think penn badgley would be a good visual representation for jack? I’ve been watching a lot of gossip girl lately, and I’m feeling it.
Weeks had passed since the Jess ordeal. The first few days following the incident were the hardest to get by; you’d had cops and psychologists up your ass, checking to see if you were okay after the ‘traumatic experience’ you’d been through. Internally, you laughed at how ironic it was that you were being offered all the help and support, and not Sam. It was him who’d been dragged through Hell and back with legal investigations (as well as being ostracized when the rumours began).
It had taken time, but you’d mended your public image and the murmuring in the corridors had eventually diminished. During the second week, you’d both decided it was okay to start seeing each other outside school together (in private, of course) and your free days were mostly spent studying with Sam at his house. Although finals were rapidly approaching, they weren’t your year level’s top priority just yet. No, that was senior prom.
At this point in time, you’d had no interest in showing up to some school dance. Not without Sam on your arm. You didn’t want him to feel bad in any way, since it was quite obvious you weren’t able to take him. It was a reminder of how different you and Sam were; he was prohibited to do something that was meant to be for your leisure. So, you’d blocked out any desire you’d previously had to make an appearance.
That was, until one Sunday afternoon. You were curled up on Sam’s bed, laying on your side and drowning in your notes from class.
“You’re not going?” Sam had asked. “Nah,” you lazily shook your head, “I guess it just doesn’t interest me that much.” “It’s senior prom, [Y/N]. I know you wanna go,” he tilted his head matter-of-factly. “Besides, I’ll be chaperoning, so maybe I’ll have the privilege of seeing you for a minute or two.” He winked at you as you started mindlessly ghosting your fingertips across his bare arm, contouring the shallow veins and inactive muscles. “I’ll chat to Jack about it,” you mumbled, secretly really glad he’d encouraged you to attend. His eyes drifted to where you draped your skin against his. “You’re so easily distracted,” he sighed, pushing your hand off him playfully, “you need to study.” “No need to be such a buzzkill,” you whined back friskily.
A silence came and passed before you placed a hand on his thigh, tugging at his leg slightly. “[Y/N], no,” he ground his teeth together, “you have so much work to do.” “It can wait,” you purred, drifting your palm up his leg until it rested over the growing bulge in his pants. He gulped. “You will be the death of me,” he said, swiping his forearm across the bed and sending all the schoolbooks to the floor. He quickly moved over you, gripping at your body and kissing you hungrily.
That was a week ago. Now, you were in front of your full length mirror, anxiously straightening out your dress as you waited for the doorbell to ring. You stared back at your dolled-up self. With makeup and hair perfected, all you needed was the corsage which Jack would bring you. On queue, a familiar tune rippled through the household. By the time you’d reached the foyer, your family had already welcomed in your date. Mum and dad gaped at you proudly. “They grow up so quickly,” your father beamed at you and your best friend ('boyfriend’ as far as they were concerned) as you stood side by side.
Jack slipped the floral band around your wrist, saying goodbye to your parents they escorted you to his car. You’d both agreed against a limo because you didn’t want to make that big a deal out of it, and Jack’s rickety pickup truck was way cooler. “You excited?” He said exuberantly once you were on the road. “Yeah,” you nodded, “Sam said he’s going to be chaperoning, so hopefully I’ll see him.” “Ah, Mr Winchester’s gonna be there,” Jack smirked, raising his eyebrows, “now I see why you were suddenly so keen.” “I’m sorry to bring him into this, Jack. If you want me to spend tonight with you, I’d be happy to.” “Don’t be ridiculous; I know what he means to you,” Jack spoke with sincerity, “as long as you don’t forget about your best friend, I don’t care who makes you happy.” “You know I’d never forget you,” you platonically wrapped your hand around his free one, “I love you.” “Love you, too, [Y/N],” he grinned goofily. “Also, Tracy said she ‘hopes to see me alone tonight’, therefore, I’m absolutely fine with you doing your own thing.” “Aha!” You exclaimed joyfully, “I knew there was something in it for you, too!”
The first 10 minutes that took place after you’d arrived were the most intense. Everybody in the gym was running around. There were people greeting you, taking your picture, complimenting you, or all of the above. You subconsciously searched among the sea of pupils, but you hadn’t seen him yet. “Don’t worry,” Jack’s breath tickled your ear as he spoke into it, “you’ll find him.” “I’m gonna get some punch.” He nodded in response, and you made your way to the refreshments table.
“Good evening, Miss [Y/L/N],” you smiled as you heard Sam’s harmonious voice, lifting your eyes to his kittenishly, “how’s your night been so far?” “Fine, thanks,” you replied softly as he picked up a glass and filled it with some punch for you. “Here,” he offered it to you. You took it from him, scraping his hot fingers for only a second as you did. It was amazing how such minuscule contact with him could still electrify your entire body. You felt something crumple between your hand and the cup, and you gathered he must’ve snuck a note to you. “Thank you, Mr Winchester,” you said, holding back a wink. You took a slow sip, his centre of attention gravitating towards your lips. “By the way, this has been spiked. Big time.”
You made your way to an empty corner to open up the folded paper wedged between your fingers. Excitement flowed through you as you flattened it out. It read:
Auditorium in 5 minutes. X
That man still had the ability to make your stomach churn (in the best way possible). You scrunched up the message, stuffing it into your bra without thought. Quickly sculling the rest of your drink, you cringed as the strong vodka invaded your tastebuds, before exiting the gym.
You’d made your way into the backstage area of the deserted theatre where you waited for your knight in Hugo Boss. “Hey, gorgeous,” Sam soon slinked up behind you, giving you a kiss on the cheek. “Hey, yourself,” you giggled, pressing your back into him. “You’re looking beautiful,” he took a step so he was in front of you, running his hands over the soft material of your dress, “as per usual.” “You’re too kind.” “And you’re too modest,” he chuckled, leaning in to join your lips. He snapped back instantly, “God, that punch was spiked.” You laughed, locking your hands onto his nape to guide his lips back to yours. You curved into him as he lifted you onto a nearby prop table. He clutched your hips, closing the gap between them and his.
Sam captured your neck in his mouth, showering it with generous kisses as he massaged circles on your lower back. You moaned quietly, lacing your fingers into his hair. Coming up to your lips again, he gave you a lingering, sweet kiss, panting lightly as he pulled back to watch you with eyes of admiration. “Do you want to go somewhere?” He suggested randomly. “Where?” “I don’t know,” he shrugged, “anywhere. A place where we don’t have to hide. Unless you want to stay here. Up to you.” You didn’t even need to mull over your options; you’d already begun to word the 'don’t wait up’ message to Jack in your mind. “Let’s go.”
A two hour drive later, and you were entering an obscure diner opposite a calm beach, your hand secured in Sam’s. Strangers were occupying only 2 other tables as you and him slid into a booth, releasing each other’s grasp just for a second before magnetizing back together. “This is lovely,” you thought aloud, just as an old man in an apron wobbled over to you. “What can I get you lovebirds?” He asked warmly. “Just two coffees, please,” Sam requested. “Sure thing,” he scribbled down the order. “I know this is none of my business, but may I say that the two of you look like a beautiful couple.” You thanked him before he left, lightly squeezing Sam as you did.
“You know,” Sam said, drawing patterns over your hand, “it’s been a month since I told you I broke up with Jess. One month today.” “So, it’s, like, our anniversary?” You smiled. “I guess it is,” he reached into his pocket, fishing out a rectangular case and sliding it to you, “Happy one month.” Your jaw dropped. The sneaky bastard had bought you a gift. You flicked it open, revealing a bracelet of what appeared to be a subtle, white gold chain, which joined up to a thin slab of metal. On it was your name engraved in a tidy script. “It’s nothing major, but I wanted something to show you how much you mean to me,” he told you. “Sam, it’s wonderful,” you mouth was still agape, “I love it. I love you.”
Once you’d finished your coffees, you decided to go for a walk before you headed back. “Where are you thinking of applying to for college?” Sam asked as you strolled along the beach path. “Whatever’s closest,” you shrugged. You saw his jaw clench. You stopped him. “What is it?” “There’s something you need to know,” he confessed. Worry blossomed in your gut. “Tell me,” you murmured, not sure if you wanted to know. “I got a job offer,” he explained, “full time.” “That’s great, Sam!” You exclaimed. “No, it’s not-” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “It’s not here.”
// 8 DAYS TO GO. THE HYPE TRAIN CONTINUES. The good ol’ offline elder dragon of MHTri, CEADEUS. With Kayamba sporting the air-giving Ancient mask! Tbh I always joke the Ceadeus is the ultimate neckbeard monster. (m'lagi).
Summary: It’s your last year in high school, and you’re failing your prerequisite History class, until your (extremely hot) substitute teacher decides to help you out. Characters: student!reader x teacher!Sam, a few OCs Author: melancauliflowers Warnings: none ! Word Count: 1,520
Note: final instalment to the MHT series! may consider writing a small passage 10-15 years into the future…
Despite the fact it was already November, the sun shone high in the sky and the birds chirped loud in the trees. Today is a good day, you told yourself as you sat among the multitudes of your fellow 12th graders, all dressed in identical graduation robes. Prom came and went, as did finals, and your senior year was finally being wrapped up. Your mind flashed back to prom, the night you’d always remember so vividly because of the decision you’d made. The image of Sam standing before you that cold, empty beach would be forever etched into the back of your eyelids.
“How far away is it?” You had asked with a dry throat. The sound of the waves gently crashing on the shore filled the silence. He responded defeatedly, “Too far.”
A round of applause erupted from the crowd and you gulped, bringing your attention back to the school captains who had just completed their joint speech. Your friends began to stand around you and you reciprocated, rising with them. Jack, who sat next to you, entangled his hand with yours as he helped you up. Principal Parker stood from the teachers’ row.
A teachers’ row that lacked a Mr Winchester.
He made his way to the podium as an impatient stillness overtook the entire year level, everyone awaiting the indication of their freedom at last. “Thank you, Class Of 2014,” his voice boomed through the speakers, slicing through the quietude, “it has been an honour and a privilege to guide you through your last year of secondary school. I wish the best of luck to each of you for the embarkment of all your future endeavors.”
And with that, cheers exploded and everybody’s graduation caps were sent flailing in the air.
Once the ceremony had ended, you decided to stick around to say goodbye to your old school grounds. Your teary parents had happily obliged to this and you began to wander through the vacant halls. You wordlessly bid farewells to the classrooms you’d used for the past 4 years of your life. You passed the room that had once held your History class. It was where you’d experienced your first time with that man — that man whom you’d come to love.
“I’ll come with you,” you’d blurted out. He closed his eyes briefly, lips pursing. “You have a life here, and I’m not willing to take that away from you,” he whispered.
The classroom was bland now, with all traces of him having been erased and swept up by the janitors.
You exited the school building through the backdoor. Suddenly, you felt two hands grip your waist from behind as you were swept up and thrust against the pale brick wall that was next to you. You stared incredulously at your captor, and those multicoloured eyes — which you’d once considered as hazel — stared right back at you. “Miss me?” Sam hummed. “What are you doing here?” You hissed through a grin, “I thought subs aren’t supposed to attend the grad ceremonies.” “They’re not,” his hands unwrinkled your scrunched up robes, “I’m not here as a sub, I’m here as a special guest. I couldn’t resist seeing you finally leave this shithole that was keeping us apart.” You giggled and slid your palms over his shoulders. “I am so proud of you,” he added, before kissing you deeply.
“It’s a life I’m willing to spare if it means I can be with you,” your voice was desperate. “You’d really do that?” “I’d go to the moon and back for you, dumbass,” you laughed. He chuckled with you, pulling you into an embrace.
“I brought someone to see you, if you’d be happy to,” Sam said, pecking your nose. “Who?” “Come with me,” he led you by the hand to the car park, where you spotted a man leaning against a bulky, charcoal-coloured Chevrolet. You recognised him immediately. It was Dean. “Hey, [Y/N],” he anxiously straightened out his clothes, a fidgety habit you, too, were guilty of. “Dean,” you smiled, trying to mask your astonishment, “what are you doing here?” “I just wanted to say-” he paused, exhaling, “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for reacting so poorly the day I met you. I, uh- I should’ve given you a chance. You mean so much to Sammy and, as his brother, I should respect that.” “Wow,” your mouth curved as you impersonated a sturgeon’s face, “impressive.” “So, we’re cool? Clean slate?” He asked. “Of course,” you assured him, “so long as you’ll consider letting me drive that beautiful piece of work there some day.” You gestured to the chevy, whistling lowly and earning laughs from both brothers. “I like her already,” Dean said to Sam as he opened his arms, welcoming you into a hug.
When the sun began to set, you decided it was time to head home. Though your boot was packed and you were ready to go, your parents wanted to give you their final valedictions before you headed off on your ‘road trip’. “All of my stuff’s already there, so now it’s just your clothes and car,” Sam told you, folding his body to fit into the passenger seat. “No worries. I promise we’ll hit the road soon, I just need to stop off at home,” you explained, to which he agreed.
“I love you so much,” Sam had rumbled into your hair, “I’ll look into nearby colleges and we can work on an application together.” “That sounds awesome.” “We’re going to have a future together,” he stated, still slightly unconvinced. “Yeah,” you proudly concurred, “we are.”
“Just be safe,” your mother repeated, patting Jack on the arm, who had met you on your lawn. “No hitch hiking, no prostituting, and no joining any cults,” your dad’s tone was joking but his straight face said otherwise. “Got it, Mr [Y/L/N],” Jack snickered, nodding along. “Have fun, you two,” mum squeezed you both tight, “and, please, only tasteful tattoos if any.”
When the front door closed behind you, you turned to Jack. “So, this is it,” he clicked his mouth. “Not for long,” you guaranteed, “I’ll be back here just before the semester starts. I promise I’ll see you when you return from your escapade with Tracy.” “No stress,” he smiled, “I’ll have to come see your house sometime, hey?” “It’s Sam’s house,” you corrected, “I’d just prefer to stay there than on campus.” “Fair enough,” Jack agreed. “See ya, little [Y/N].” A tear escaped the corner of your eye. “I’m older than you, dicktwat,” you half-laughed, half-sobbed out. He dabbed your face with his sleeve. “You’ve been such a great friend to me lately, Jack. Thank you for that. I’ll always be in your debt.” “You’re not in anyone’s debt,” he said, wiping away some tears of his own, “I would do if a million times more if I could. Now, go have fun. Be happy. Before we drown this whole town in our soppiness.” “Yeah. For the record, this,” you gestured to your wet cheeks, “never happened.” “What never happened?” He faked confusion. “Exactly,” you breathed, pulling him in for a last hug. “See you soon.” “See you soon,” he agreed, before you finally went your separate ways.
By the time you’d reached your car, you hopped into the seat beside Sam, who’d taken over the driver’s. “All good?” He asked with solace. “All good,” you were still a little choked up, and he nudged you to face him. “Hey, hey,” he saw your eyes, which were still recovering, “it’s not too late to back out now. I don’t want you to feel pressured to go with me.”
You took a moment to study the person before you. The undulated shoulders, the delicate facial features, the chocolate brown hair — you had grown so accustomed to it all.
You shook your head, “I love you, Sam. I’m not backing out of this. Let’s go.” Your hand held onto his as he started the engine, pulling out of your driveway and then your street for what would be the last time in a long time.
Once you’d hit the highway, you decided to paw through the college pamphlet that lay untouched under the seat. It was just a 10 minute drive from Sam’s new place. Although college acceptance letters were yet to be released, they had unofficially confirmed your position to Sam who, as your teacher, wrote a special recommendation letter for you. He’d said it was not at all biased because you’d earned it, since all your hard work for his class had paid off and you’d basically aced the exam.
So, here you were, driving across the country to finally be with the love of your life. Now having passed the prerequisite class, you were able to be near your boyfriend and attend a great college (which, down the track, you would graduate from with a major in History).
For once in your life since you’d met Sam, all you could see in the time ahead was positivity. You beamed to yourself.