Fresh laundry. Hot dogs for dinner. Cold pizza for breakfast. A really good haircut. A joke so funny that you cry. New shoes. The CRACK! of a baseball on a wooden bat. FOMO. Peppermint chewing gum. Runner's high. Your first crush.
Pine trees. Cold dew on a summer morning. MRE's that don't taste like paper pulp. Cornfields as far as the eye can see. Screaming at the sky late at night. Turkey with stuffing. White bread in a plastic sleeve. Getting gum on your shoes.
Scented candles and burnt popcorn. Fresh-cut daisies. Drawing with charcoal. Sun bleached bones. The smell of gasoline. Gel pens. Your favorite animated movie. The scapegoat. Not caring at all.
Butterscotch and sulfur. Rolling meadows of grass. Sand in your shoes. Fried fish in a greasy newspaper. Fireworks on a warm summer evening. Wool turtleneck sweaters. Being double-dog-dared to swim in the lake during winter. The best hole-in-the-wall pub in the world.
Dusty old books. Creaking floorboards. Fresh winter snow. A really good sandwich. Finding a new favorite novel. A handmade scarf. Getting a good grade on an assignment. First editions. Going to the natural history museum. Firmly believing why you were put on this earth.
Breakfast foods. Campfires. The satisfying clicking of clockwork machinery. Reading bedtime stories aloud. T-shirts with math jokes on them. Tuning a guitar. Petting zoos. Knowing your limits. Learning about something that makes you really happy. A cool looking rock.
Antiseptic. Down comforters. Really round fluffy birds. Bad puns. Doing things because you can. Hot tea. Waking up before the sun does. Whistling. Dry cleaning. Fun facts about animals. Really strange nonfiction books. Windy winter days.
Dirt and black coffee. Climbing a tree. People watching. Road trips. Going to bed and realizing you haven't spoken to anyone all day. Fairy bread. Getting caught in the rain. Really cool scars. Having a story for everything. Polarized lenses.
Vermouth and tobacco. Minimalist cuff links. Playing cards. Hair pomade. Silk ties. Your first love. A passing feeling of emptiness. Heels clicking on polished floors. Crusty dinner rolls with soft warm bread on the inside.
Lavender hand soap. Gunpowder. Lilac polo shirts. Worn black denim. Staying up late and watching the home shopping channel because you can't sleep. Beat-up firearms catalogs. Telling your mother to return your birthday gift because your workplace has strict dress codes regarding clothing colors, even though you desperately need that new skirt. Finding drawings from when you were a child. Soft wool cardigans. Shiny silver knives. Yogurt with fruit. Hating and loving your job at the same time.
Looking at babies that are born at viability (24 weeks) is so crazy. I know they are TINY compared to a baby born at term, but they look HUGE when I think about how there is a baby that size inside me right now.
Characters-Sam x reader, Jody Mills, Dean, Castiel, Claire, Alex(mentioned)
Warnings-smut happened(blinks in surprise)
A/N- So I found this is my computer and decided to take a shot. Be gentle, it’s my first posted smut.
Many thanks to @wheresthekillswitch and @skybinx-blog for beta reading and encouragement. (Leigh pretty much demanded I post this)
Somehow Bobby’s cabin was still standing after everything and years of neglect. It was a place for you to hide for a while somewhere the boys wouldn’t look for you at least until the spring thaw at this point. The Impala would never make it up here in the winter; your jeep almost hadn’t made it laden with supplies as it was. With a sigh you begin to unload, starting with fuel for the generator. You filled it up and started it up. For a wonder it not only started on the first try but it was working properly.
Thanksgiving; an American tradition celebrated by many where families come together to give thanks and to carve turkeys. A tradition in which Niall has never actually celebrated.
For the last three years, he has succeeded to wiggle his way out of the thanksgiving festivities and stayed in London for various reasons. This year, however, you refused to have him miss the celebrations. Everybody deserves to experience a true American thanksgiving with the lot, stuffed turkeys, gravy, family laughs and sometimes family disagreements, accompanied by wine and football.
You find yourself tenderly calling Niall for the third time, doing your best to get ready while your boyfriend seems to refuse to get out of the comfort of the bed; you don’t entirely blame him, it’s freezing cold outside and he’s already missed the Macy’s parade that you had wanted him to see. He gives you a groan as you hear the floorboards creaking in the hallway, an indication your brother or sister or their spouses are awake and ready to start the day. “You gotta get up, it’s almost nine,” you crawl on the bed and run your fingers through his messily flat hair.
I’ve just kind of had this idea floating around in my head all day about Cas owning a cozy little bookstore. He keeps it open 365 days a year, because he wants it to be a safe space for people. He knows first hand that, especially around holiday season, not everyone has somewhere to go. And he’s made it his mission since he opened two years ago to make sure everyone has somewhere to go if they don’t want to be alone.
So when Dean, a frequent customer the past few months, (and a frequent star in Cas’ day dreams) offers him a chair at their Thanksgiving feast tomorrow night, he politely declines, and advises Dean he will be working.
‘Can’t be working on Thanksgiving Cas! What the hell are you gonna eat? That’s the best part of the whole day!’ Cas just shakes his head, and apologizes. When Dean persists, questioning why Charlie can’t run the place for the day, he explains that Charlie is meeting Dorothy’s parents, and he doesn’t mind working.
Thanksgiving morning, Dean stops by to try and convince him one last time to close up and come to Sam’s with him, Cas states harshly, 'Not everyone has a place to go for the holidays, Dean. I didn’t have a place to go for twelve years after my parents kicked me out. I NEED to be here so no one is in that situation if they don’t want to be! NO ONE should be alone during the holidays.’ And while Dean is taken aback by the tone, he mutters an apology and leaves.
Cas spends most of the day by himself, a teenage girl comes in around ten, and then he doesn’t see anyone else until four. The older gentleman leaves around four thirty, and though neither of them make a purchase, he’s still glad he was here. When the bell at the door rings again around seven, Cas is happy to see someone else in need. However when he turns the corner from the aisle he was reorganizing, he sees Dean, arms full of bags. From their transparency, he sees a bag of dinner rolls, what he believes is several Tupperware containers full of mashed potatoes, turkey, gravy, and stuffing, and the unmistakable circular outline of a pie tin.
'What is this, Dean? Shouldn’t you be at Sam’s?’
'You were right, Cas. No one should be alone on Thanksgiving.’
Description: Ahh…the smell of warm bread and sage.
Game ingredients: Bread, Hazelnut, Cranberries
This recipe restores 170 energy and 68 health. It gives a +2 Defense bonus and can be obtained from Pam after achieving 8 hearts. It sells for 165g.
Difficulty: Easy, between 45 minutes to 4+ hours. Serves 4.
It was Thanksgiving up here in Canada on Monday. My sister can’t cook to save her life so the whole meal was up to me.
-1 loaf of white bread -½ large onion -6 stalks celery (individual stalks) -1/3 cup real butter -¼ cup poultry seasoning -1 tablespoon salt If you don’t have poultry seasoning you can substitute with: 1 tablespoon sage, 1 tablespoon thyme, ½ tablespoon celery salt, 1 teaspoon salt, 1 teaspoon pepper, 1 tablespoon marjoram.
Chop the onion and celery into large chunks.
In a large frying pan, melt the butter on medium-high heat. Put the celery and onion in and fry for a few minutes, then turn down the heat to medium-low and place a lid on the frying pan. Allow the vegetables to steam for 10 to 15 minutes. This will make them nice and soft.
While the celery and onion is cooking, cut up the loaf of bread into cubes and place them in a large bowl.
Add the vegetables (along with whatever melted butter and water remains) to the bread cubes and allow it to cool for a couple minutes. Then, add the poultry seasoning and toss to mix until the seasoning has covered all the bread cubes and vegetables. Add the salt. You can taste a cube to see if it needs more, but one tablespoon of salt should be enough.
Stuff the turkey in both the front and back cavity until full, and bake as instructed. If you don’t have a turkey or prefer to make dressing instead, place the stuffing in a casserole dish and bake at 350°F for 25 minutes. Remove the stuffing from the turkey or casserole dish and serve hot.
I have always been attracted to fat men and had the desire to become one myself. I struggled throughout my college career to put on weight. I would binge for weeks and put on about ten pounds, only to become stressed and overworked resulting in me losing the weight. It was a frustrating cycle. I never had the time to truly transform my body into the jiggly ideal in my head. Once I graduated, I knew it was my time to grow. Before entering a master’s program, I decided I would take a year off to save money and gain weight. Between June and December I made a lot of progress. I gained about thirty pounds in six months, going from six foot and 150 pounds to 180 some odd pounds. It felt great. I wasn’t fat by any means, but I had filled out. I felt more in control of my body and like I had more of a presence when I entered a room. These gains were assisted by a new boyfriend I had met, Liam, on grommr. He was much fatter than me and had a well-developed paunch when we met. The combination of his encouragement and simply being around someone who ate so goddamn much really assisted in my weight gain.
I flew home to a small town in Southern California for Thanksgiving. It was sad parting ways for a week with the boyfriend, but the prospect of a gluttonous Thanksgiving was enticing. My family was rather traditional when it came to holidays and Thanksgiving was always an expansive, fattening, home cooked affair. I had been practicing bloating for weeks before hand so I could be sure to stuff myself to maximum capacity. In addition, my family had yet to see my thirty pound weight gain. When I arrived, I received several comments about how I’d “filled out.” Most of them were compliments amounting to how I looked more like a man, and much older. When feasting began I shocked everyone with how much food I consumed. I by far was the biggest eater at the table and filled up my plate four times. My stomach was so distended by the end of the day that it almost looked like a deformity. When I returned home, Liam raved that I was noticeably fatter. The scale had only shown a two pound weight gain, but he claimed it felt like more. Still, I was definitely excited and felt like an overweight BMI was just within my reach.
Liam and I both had plans to spend December and January with our respective famillies. We decided to make a rather fattening deal. After two months, when we returned home, we both had to have gained 25 pounds. If one or both of us failed to meet this criteria, the punishment would be 7,000 calories a day for two weeks.
After two weeks of home cooking and holiday treats, I had already packed on twelve pounds. And it was starting to get noticeable. My belly poked out above my waistline. T-shirts and sweaters clung tightly to my midsection. I was a cliche, my weight quickly rising due to holiday sweets and egg nog. No one made any comments, as I assumed they figured I would lose it all in the spring. What they didn’t know was that my gut would continue to grow and that my newfound potbelly was a source of constant eroticism. My cock grew hard at every meal, and even the slightest jiggle of my belly would leave me dripping precum. By the time Christmas day arrived I was about 15 pounds heavier than when I’d first arrived at home. I was greatly looking forward to Christmas dinner, which was typically a bigger affair than Thanksgiving in my house. My mom made a spread with all of the traditional holiday food, but went especially crazy with the desserts. There were more cakes, pies, cookies, cobblers, and loafs than our family could ever consume in a day.
After exchanging presents, my body was ready to gorge. I was jittery with excitement at the prospect of stuffing my gut as full as I possibly could with delicious fattening food. Once dinner began, I made no attempt at hiding my gluttony. I inhaled my first plate of food within minutes. I got a couple comments about how hungry I was. I would only smile and agree as I loaded up plate after mountainous plate of food. My belly was swelling under the tight knit sweater I was wearing. After three plates of ham, turkey, rolls, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and yams all drowned in gravy I began on the dessert foods. My gut was significantly bloated. My uncle was surprised that I was still “going so strong on the food.” While my mom made a comment that I better “watch my eating” as my “midsection is growing by the day.” A few other family members remarked with supportive jokes about how I was a growing boy and that everyone gets a a little portly over the holidays. My cock was rock hard and mashed against my thigh in my skinny jeans. I eventually had a healthy serving of every dessert at the table and seconds for some. By the time I was finished, my stomach looked abnormally bloated and I was in great pain. Once everyone finished, I retired to my bedroom and immediately took a nap.
I woke up groggy and with an intense boner. I looked at the clock and it was 1 AM. I’d slept for several hours. I went outside and smoked a bowl then proceeded to watch A Christmas Story. Soon enough, the munchies began to set in, and the massive food baby that was working its way through my system, suddenly seemed to vanish. I was ravenously hungry. I began to storm the leftovers, eating pieces of pie and cake so large that I was shocked at my own gluttony. I was stuffing my face with everything I could get my hands on. I began to get enormously turned on and decided to bring the food to my room so I could eat and jerk off. I covered my bed with plates of delicious sweets and began eating with no hands like the hungry hog I was. Meanwhile, I stroked my cock and massaged my belly fat. I was getting food all over my fattening body, which I would lick and scrape off. I was determined to consume everything that I brought. I tried fucking the cobbler and then eating the filling off my dick. I was swallowing so much food that I hardly even recognized what was going into my mouth. Whatever I could get my hands on was swallowed. I cleaned all the plates in what seemed like no time at all. I finally let myself cum and shot my load across the room in moans of ecstasy. I passed out sticky and bloated.
A few weeks passed and New Year’s came and went. I had gained 4 pounds just on Christmas day alone and continued to pack on the weight like I was an animal going into hibernation. I could barely fit into the outfit I had planned for New Year’s Eve festivities, which was slightly embarrassing, but still incredibly hot. Hungover the next morning, I looked through the photos on my phone and on Facebook of the night before. I had gotten completely wasted and didn’t remember much. I was shocked to see just how far my belly protruded out of my denim jacket. In several photos my shirt was riding up to reveal a swollen and hairy abdomen. Even my face looked a little fatter. A slight double chin appeared in certain angles. This was the first time I had a good look at all the weight I had gained and was truly shocked. I looked fat.
I went to the bathroom and began examining myself in the mirror. My gut was on the verge of an overhang, ten more pounds and it would happen. I had even started to develop a fat pad. I knew my thighs had gotten thicker, but looking in the mirror I realized they were almost touching. I squeezed and jiggled my ass cheeks, Liam was going to love playing with those. Slight love handles were apparent from behind. I wanted them to grow. I got inches from the mirror to examine my neck fat. If I looked down or tucked my chin in, I developed a definite double chin. To top it all off, my entire body looked a tad bit hairier. I’d always had a decent patch of chest hair, but now it was spreading from shoulder to shoulder. I wondered if weight gain sparked hair growth.
I’d stopped tracking my weight since Christmas because I was confident I would meet, and likely surpass, the 25 pounds I promised Liam. The trip home had come to an end, and I was noticeably larger than when I’d arrived. Barely any of my clothes fit. I couldn’t wait for Liam to see. When I arrived at our apartment, he was sitting on the couch. I could tell he’d gained weight but not merely as much as me. We embraced and began fooling around. He was shocked and amorous of my newly formed love handles and jiggly beer gut. He squeezed handfuls of both and asked how much I’d gained. I told him I didn’t know and had stopped weighing myself. Liam revealed he had only gained 15 pounds. At first I was disappointed, but the prospect of the next week of gluttony was going to be amazing for Liam. We had wild sex exploring the new curves of each other’s bodies.
Later that night, Liam coaxed me out of bed and onto the scale. I was shocked at the number that appeared. No way was I that fat now. 223 pounds. I had gained over forty pounds in two months. This realization caused my cock to stiffen and rise against my newly rounded, hanging, belly.
Summary: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, and Y/N have been best friends for years and Steve is in love with her. In September of 1940, President Roosevelt enacts a peacetime draft and Steve begins to set his sights on the future. The holidays bring a special mix of heartbreak and loss of hope and Y/N may have reached the end of her rope with Steve…
Pairing: Pre-serum!Steve x female!reader
Word Count: 2853
Warnings: more angst (sorry guys), mentions of war, depression, fighting
A/N: So Steve more or less loses his damn mind here and Bucky is back as the adorable meddling friend…I swear there are better times coming for Steve and reader…at some point…
They called it a “peacetime draft” but no one was fooled. On September 16, President Franklin signed the Selective Training and Service Act into existence and young men from the age of 21 to 45 were required to register. It was meant to be a precaution, but with Churchill and Britain flailing under Hitler’s crusade, the odds of the precaution becoming reality were stacked against them.
Steve, for his part, was excited about the draft. His father had served in the Great War and he’d died for his country—a hero’s death. His mother had been a nurse in the field when they’d met. Steve was a child of war and he believed that serving in this one would make him the man he knew he was meant to be. He filled out his registration card with trembling fingers, nervously scribbling in his medical history, wondering if his laundry list of ailments would affect any decision to enlist him. Surely it wouldn’t, he thought. Surely the United States government would take into account his father’s service, his mother’s service, and the fact that Steve wanted to serve. That he was willing and prepared to die for his country.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character (sister Winchester)
Additional Tags for this part: Teenage Drama, Wincest (Twincest), Teen Dean Winchester, Fluff and Angst, Pining, Heavy Petting/Making Out,Young Winchesters, Female Winchesters
Author’s Note: Here’s the second chapter, as promised. I took the original version of this story down so I could post the reworked version. Hope you all enjoy this new version. Thank you to my beta and cohort on this story’s progression, @helvonasche. She’s one helluva plotter and beta. And she was the one who made the fic banner above.
Summary: The Winchester twins, Dean and Maggie, have enough on their plates with keeping track of Sam and learning to be hunters, but then they had to go and fall in love.