You thought, at first, that Stanford was the best thing to happen to you. Turns out, it was Sam Winchester instead. Your boyfriend of about three years, having had met at a summer opening for freshmen and simply dove head first into the beauty that was the youngest Winchester brother. He was a pre-law student, just like you were, so naturally all of the pieces clicked into place easily when it came to you two.

Over the course of three years, you and Sam did.. everything together. Study dates, diving in depth about his family and then your own, not that yours compared in any way to all of the details Sam allowed himself to tell you. You certainly would have some things to say on the off chance you ever met John Winchester.

Through all of this you came to learn that he hated one thing the most overall. Halloween. Never celebrated, never even talked about it really.

It made sense, if you thought about it. Who would want to celebrate a holiday surrounding the things you hunted as a child and most likely traumatized you for years to come? You understood, you really did.

But that didn't stop you from pulling out all the stops this year. You were seniors for crying out loud! One frat party wouldn't kill him. You went from puppy dog eyes and pouts to just outright buying matching costumes without involving him, but he got over it and was now allowing you to fidget and fix his costume to your liking. You dressed as a cute, albeit skimpy (it is a frat party) nurse, him in a basic doctor outfit since he wasn't allowing much more in depth. The coat, the fake badge, and the stethoscope were all he was allowing.

"Well, you look great, a little boring though. Party Pooper." You murmur after trying to convince him to add on a fake pair of glasses or just something more, the brunette watching as you fixed your own costume.

"Not a party pooper. Just don't understand why people celebrate and dress up and... whatever else." He murmured back as he stepped behind you, a hand coming to rest naturally on your hip.