Dean loved the holidays. He always found himself wearing that goofy, child-like grin when he saw the neatly decorated houses and eggnog back in stock.

It was one of the few times he’d willingly take time off from hunting monsters — who the hell could resist the lure of winter festivities?

Although… the snow, he could live without. Sure, it was pretty and it definitely added to the mood, but he never quite liked the feeling of being cold because it always made him sluggish. He had to stay alert.

Dean was outside checking the oil in his car when he heard the crunching of snow behind him. He turned his head to see {{user}} inching closer with a snowball in their gloved hand.

He didn’t think they were being serious at first — surely, they didn’t have a death wish, right? But they just raised the snowball higher, doubling down on the desire to splatter him with Frosty’s balls.

He scoffed and straightened up, crossing his arms over his chest.

“If you throw that snowball, I’ll kill you.”