A/N: This is my entry for @d-s-winchester ‘s birthday blog song challenge! I wish your blog a happy birthday and I hope you enjoy this fic! This is also my Songs of season three challenge entry for @torn-and-frayed !! So I hope you really like this one too!!
You got me all caught up, the way you look tonight, we could head downtown or I could turn around up here on the right.
Oh just look at this sky, the rain ain’t far from falling down, and I want to get to know you better than I know this little town.
Yes, I do.
If Dean had to be upfront with you. Dean really liked you. He liked you a whole damn lot. He couldn’t figure out what it was about you that attracted him to you so much, but what did he care. Dean knew what he wanted, and that was you. He has been dropping subtle hints for ages now, and Dean finally got around to asking you out on a proper date.
I love you you always send me a new gay tv show and I always love them... so like throw me another one you know, like skam or eyewitness or how to get away with murder or yuri on ice or something! I'm going through withdrawal here! Please anything! I'm might die, like not really but yeah!
are you alright?
yeah, it's just that tumblr got me hooked on skam and now it's over.
Baby powder and butterfly kisses. These are the memories that are still fresh in Mary’s mind. But stolen credit cards, cheap beer and two sons older than she is? That’s all new to her.
Left alone while Sam and Dean check out a case nearby, she wanders the Bunker, looking for clues, anything to help her understand more about the boys. She trails her fingertips along the dark wood tables and dusty lore books of the library, and the antique maps in the war room. These are tools of hunting but say nothing about the hunters themselves.
Which is why she finds herself standing in the middle of Dean’s bedroom fifteen minutes later. The little boy who loved to play with toy cars and eat homemade pie is now a man who mounts weapons on the wall and keeps porn meticulously organized under his bed. As she picks up the family photos displayed on Dean’s desk, her smile is bittersweet. Moments that feel like yesterday to her are now yellowed pictures, their corners bent and surfaces scratched with age.
Sam’s bedroom is a mystery. It is both barren and full. Stacks of case files and lore books are piled around the room but she can’t find a single personal item until she spies a wooden box at the back of his closet. Opening the lid, Mary finds more photos, some childhood artwork and a necklace with a brass amulet. Her smile returns as she spies the green army men at the bottom of the box. She pulls one out, recognizing the cheap plastic figurines that Dean would play with for hours on their living room floor. He must have passed down the toys to Sam, treasured possessions, from big brother to little brother.
She closes the lid carefully and puts the box back on the shelf, carefully tucking the little toy into her pocket as a reminder that no matter how much bigger or older they get, they were once her little boys.
I set on the couch stuffing my face with pizza as season three of “Supernatural” played. Today was my 17th birday and I had no friends, seeing as I was new to town. I wiped the tear that fell down my cheek as Sammy held Dean’s lifeless body. I was startled by a knock at the door. I jump off the couch and I look out the window to find the guy, Stiles was his name, from my chemistry class. He held a big box and wore a wide smile. I slowly opened the door, very confused. “Uh hello?” I furrowed my eyebrows and his smile grew even wider. “Happy Birthday!”
"I'm okay rlly !!!! Working tomorrow I won't be tired! One more episode it's only 12:30 AM and I don't have to get up till 7:30!! That's 7 hours of sleep and 7 rounds up to 10! That's more than enough!!! Definitely alive!!"