#round extension dining table

[frenchtables]

The Timeless Elegance of French Parquetry Dining Tables

When it comes to home décor, the dining table often serves as the centrepiece of social gatherings, family dinners, and holiday celebrations. French parquetry dining tables are a timeless combination of elegance, workmanship, and beauty, and they are available in a wide variety of forms. Let's explore what makes these tables unique and why they can be the ideal accent piece for your house.

A Glimpse into History

Derived from the French word "parqueterie," French parquetry is a term used to describe a geometric mosaic of wood pieces used for decorative purposes. This elaborate art genre was made popular during Louis XIV's reign in the 17th century. The technique was first applied to flooring in palaces and large estates, and it quickly made its way into furniture design, producing pieces that were both visually pleasing and useful.

The Craftsmanship

A high degree of skill and attention to detail is required in the tedious process of creating a dining table with French parquetry. Artists choose various wood species with great care, frequently utilising walnut, oak, and cherry to produce designs with contrast. Following careful cutting, these woods are assembled like a puzzle to create elaborate geometric patterns like chevrons and herringbones.

The process involves several stages:

Selection of Wood: Choosing high-quality, contrasting woods to enhance the visual appeal.

Cutting and Shaping: Cutting the wood into precise, interlocking pieces.

Assembly: Meticulously fitting the pieces together to form a seamless design.

Finishing: Sanding, staining, and varnishing the table to protect the wood and enhance its natural beauty.

Unique Patterns and Designs

The range of patterns and motifs seen in French parquetry dining tables is one of their most alluring features. Because each table is handmade, it displays the artist's imagination as well as the organic beauty of the wood. 

Common patterns include:

Herringbone: A classic design where rectangular pieces are laid out in a zigzag pattern.

Chevron: Similar to herringbone but with the ends of the wood pieces cut at an angle to create a continuous zigzag pattern.

Versailles: Named after the famous palace, this pattern features squares and rectangles arranged in a complex, symmetrical design.

These patterns not only enhance the aesthetic appeal of the table but also add a sense of depth and texture to the dining space.

Integrating French Parquetry into Modern Homes

Despite their historical origins, French parquetry dining tables are incredibly versatile and can complement a wide range of interior styles, from traditional to contemporary. Here are a few tips on how to incorporate a parquetry table into your home:

Traditional Elegance: Pair your parquetry table with antique chairs and classic tableware to create a sophisticated, timeless dining room.

Modern Contrast: Use the intricate design of the parquetry table as a focal point in a minimalist room with sleek, modern furniture and neutral colours.

Rustic Charm: Combine the table with rustic elements like wrought iron chairs, natural textiles, and vintage accessories for a cozy, farmhouse feel.

Care and Maintenance

To ensure your French parquetry dining table remains a beautiful centrepiece for years to come, proper care and maintenance are essential. Here are some tips:

Avoid Direct Sunlight: Prolonged exposure to sunlight can fade the wood. Position your table away from direct sunlight or use curtains to filter the light.

Regular Cleaning: Dust the table regularly with a soft, dry cloth. For deeper cleaning, use a damp cloth followed by a dry one to prevent moisture damage.

Use Coasters and Mats: Protect the table from scratches and spills by using coasters, placemats, and tablecloths during meals.

Polish Periodically: Use a high-quality furniture polish to maintain the shine and protect the wood. Avoid silicone-based polishes, as they can damage the finish over time.

Conclusion

A dining table with French parquetry is a work of art that symbolises centuries of tradition, workmanship, and beauty. It is more than just a piece of furniture. A parquetry table offers a special fusion of beauty and usefulness, whether you want to upgrade a conventional dining room or add a touch of refinement to a modern area. Purchasing such a table not only enhances the look of your home but also makes it a magnificent focal point for special events and get-togethers.

[killthemwithyourawesome]

Modern Dining Room

Medium-sized minimalist enclosed dining room with white walls and no fireplace, medium-tone wood flooring, and gray flooring.

[blessedkeith]

Enclosed DC Metro Example of a mid-sized minimalist medium tone wood floor and gray floor enclosed dining room design with white walls and no fireplace

[giftiaa]

Sun Room Medium Inspiration for a mid-sized contemporary ceramic tile sunroom remodel with a glass ceiling

[aspoonfulofwitchcraft]

Porch Backyard

[doze-mag]

Deck (Melbourne)

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This brick 1901 converted church in St. Louis, MO is HUGE and it's a single family home. 6bds, 8ba, $1.2M + $1mo. HOA.

You can enter from this side of the kitchen. Look at those railings and that post on the left.

Or, this side of the kitchen.

Isn't this stunning? They found ways to use all of the original wood. Those lamps! And that wall.

View from the kitchen.

They have 2 small tables set up beside the kitchen for dining.

Gorgeous stairs to the choir loft, flanked by the communion railing is the focal point of the room.

Cozy living room under the loft.

More seating on the other side.

Everything in this conversion was meticulously done with great care.

The bathrooms are so roomy.

This bedroom is in the rounded part of the building.

Nice en-suite.

It also has laundry and a private water closet.

Another beautiful, spacious bedroom.

And, they all have matching fabulous en-suites like this one.

Stairs going down to the finished basement.

There's a professional commercial kitchen down here.

Large rec room.

The current owner has an extensive wood shop.

Check it out- come out the bell tower door to go up to the hot tub on the roof.

In front there's a large patio and a parking area, plus a fenced yard. The lot is .26 acres.

And, look at this beautiful park-like garden on the other side.

Magnificent stained glass windows. Seriously, I think that $1.2M for this home is a steal.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/2501-Clifton-Ave-Saint-Louis-MO-63139/81714646_zpid/?

[starcheols]

the 1 — choi seungcheol

⭑ it is said that no one ever forgets their first love, nor their first heartbreak. truer words have never been spoken as you leave the glamourous cities of europe to return to your small hometown, for the first time in seven years.

don't you think it would have been sweet, if it could have been me pairing :: smalltown!seungcheol x fashion designer!reader (gender neutral) genre :: nostalgia, gentle angst

warnings :: nothing major! just heartbreak i guess? mentions a glass of wine and a kiss. word count :: 1.4k

author's note :: i've never written a fan-fiction before so i'm marking this monumentous occasion with a slightly mediocre piece of writing that was floating around in my head for a week :)

links :: masterlist / ask to be added to the taglist!

The old bus station, with its peeling red paint and rugged masts, greeted you like an old friend as you took a step off the weathered vehicle, with its tires sagging next to the cracked curb. It seemed that autumn’s breath was whispering in the air, carrying a chill that nipped at you, prompting you to tug your cashmere coat tighter around yourself.

As you stood there, under the canopy of the station, the rhythmic plod of the primordial-era bus faded into the distance, and a familiar nostalgia settled over you like the autumn mist.

Your hometown had remained frozen in time, a canvas of memories painted against the backdrop of quaint architecture and cobblestone streets that echoed under the sharp clack of your heeled boots. 

As you rounded the corner of the bus station, the remainder of the small town, with its quaint buildings and centrepiece fountain, unfolded before you like a familiar tapestry of memories. 

And there, standing beneath the flickering street lights of the early morning, a broad-shouldered man stood with his back turned, the sun’s first tentative rays finding a home in his honey-blonde hair. And for that fleeting moment, you could have sworn you felt time suspend, the world tilting its axis beneath you, for it had been so long.

But then, reality asserted itself, like a gentle hand grounding you in the here and now. The features, upon closer inspection, were not those you had once known. The stranger's eyes, the curve of his jaw, all different from the one etched into the canvas of your memories.

You certainly could not resist the wave of relief that washed over you, and that sneaking adrenaline that had coiled within your chest slowly released its grip, leaving the heartache to dissipate along the morning dew beneath the frail sunlight.

Seven years since you had left this town, teary-eyed and clutching your suitcase, chasing dreams that led you across the world, to the capitals of Europe to pursue your degree and future. 

Milan, where you honed your craft, your fingers becoming extensions of your artistic vision. Paris, where the world of haute couture embraced you, and your name adorned the lips of those who appreciated the elegance of your designs. The bustle of fashion weeks, the allure of glamorous shows — it was a life you had dreamed of, a life you had made your own.

Yet, amidst the glittering lights of success, the echoes of that tearful departure still reverberated, often coming back to you after a stranger’s kiss or a glass of red perched on your dining table, up in the penthouses of Paris.

You remembered that fateful day, seven years ago to the date today, when the bus station had rather been a stage for a heartbreaking farewell. Seungcheol, your best friend with golden hair and big eyes that once held a world of shared secrets, stood before you.

Back then, you were just eighteen, brimming with dreams and aspirations. You had poured your heart out to Seungcheol, confessing a love that had blossomed within the cocoon of friendship. But his response, or rather the lack thereof, had cast a shadow over the farewell, dragging you over the edge to embarrassed silence and quiet tears. His eyes, ringed with long lashes that you longed to once press a soft kiss to, reflected not reciprocation, but a profound sadness and pity.

The bus had become your vessel of escape, your tears mingling with the rumble of the engine, as the vehicle pulled away from the same curb that you stepped out on today. The unspoken truth hung heavy in the air — Choi Seungcheol, the person you had thought of when you tossed pennies into the fountain’s pool and the person you loved the most in the entire world, (and really, what was the world of one who had just turned eighteen?), did not share the same sentiments at all.

The bench under the gnarled oak tree offered a momentary respite, and you took a seat, your coat enveloping you like a cocoon against the autumn chill. As you waited for your parents, who had vowed to meet you for breakfast, you watched the leaves dance in the breeze, a kaleidoscope of reds and golds that mirrored the hues of memories embedded in this town.

The quiet peace of the surroundings enveloped you, and you closed your eyes, allowing the crisp air to wash over you. The distant hum of the town, the gentle rustling of leaves, and the distant echo of a church bell created a symphony that resonated with a serene melancholy. The town hadn't changed much, and neither had the comforting embrace of its quiet corners.

A voice, a familiar voice, and one that you knew only all too well, cut through the tranquil ambiance. Your eyes snapped open, and the world seemed to shift on its axis again. There, standing before you, was Seungcheol —no longer the silent boy you tearfully left behind but a man, his honey-blonde hair still curling around his ears. His gaze met yours, and the years seemed to melt away in that moment, and how you hated the leap of your heart and the shake of your hands.

And it seemed your traitorous heart, a tempest of conflicting emotions, of love and grief, ran cold and hot simultaneously. Seven years had sculpted the features of the boy who you had loved from your childhood into a refined allure, the lines of boyhood replaced by the contours of a man who had weathered time with grace.

"Hey," he greeted you, a warmth in his eyes that could have deceived you into forgetting silent tears, and his pitying gaze years ago. "I heard you were back in town. It's been forever!"

Your brightest smile, a mask that you could credit from having being forged from your years of navigating the high celebrity ends of the world, adorned your own face, as you accepted his open arms, pulling yourself into the scent of him.

The old familiarity threatened to unravel the carefully constructed walls around your heart. How was it that he seemed genuinely excited to see you, to reconnect after all these years.

Seungcheol's infectious laughter filled the air, a melody that echoed through the town square, and one that you would have spent summers listening to on repeat, your arms intertwined. "I can't believe it, you know? I always knew you had that amazing potential, but seeing your name everywhere, in magazines and tabloids, isn’t that so cool? You've made it so big!"

The genuine admiration in his eyes was both heartwarming and disconcerting, for you. You could only nod, expressing gratitude for his kind words while trying to suppress the turbulent emotions churning beneath the surface. The town's quiet corners, once a sanctuary, now felt like a stage, each word and glance an act in the intricate dance of reunion.

And you won't believe who's behind me," Seungcheol continued, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "My wife's a huge fan of your work. She practically dragged me here to meet you."

As your eyes shifted to the figure approaching behind him, your breath caught. A woman, stunning with dark red hair, walked with two small children by her side. The bitterness, like a dormant ember, flickered within you, threatening to consume the facade of happiness you had meticulously crafted.

"Hey, look who's here!" Seungcheol called out to his wife, his voice brimming with excitement.

She turned, and for a moment, your eyes locked. A fleeting connection passed between you, a recognition of shared spaces in a world divided by time and choices. Her smile was warm, genuine, and you tried to match it with your own, though it felt brittle, a fragile façade that hid the tempest within.

Seungcheol introduced you, praising your work with an enthusiasm that only friends from the past could muster. The children, curious and full of innocent wonder, regarded you with wide eyes. As the conversation flowed, you couldn't help but wonder what could have been if, in that moment seven years ago, the trajectory of your lives had diverged in a different direction.

Seungcheol had moved on, creating a family, a chosen one. The pang of longing lingered, but you swallowed it down, resisting the temptation to wonder about alternate realities.

But we were something don't you think so? Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool. And if my wishes came true, it would have been you.

[frenchtables]

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[sarcasticdolphin]

Smrtolf fae au: September Prompt #7: "Recipe Book"

For the amazing @adridoesstuff as all the Smrtolf drabbles are.

This drabble is kind of weird but I dearly wanted to at least try and keep to the prompt (it didn't really work) so Rudolf ended up the in kitchens for an afternoon.

Cut is for length.

Rudolf isn’t quite sure who exactly had decided that he should learn something of the royal kitchens. It had simply appeared on his schedule one day in a somewhat similar manner to the lessons that the king seemed to be interjecting with increasing frequency, but Smrt’s touch was always evident with those. Here it seemed entirely absent. 

Perhaps it was his painting tutor following through on Rudolf’s need to be a little more well rounded. Rudolf would fully admit that he preferred both portraits and landscapes to still life and bowls of fruit in particular. Was his task to be to stare at the fruit until it was properly etched into his mind? That, at least, would not be too terrible. The fae had such interesting fruits though they often required somewhat more extensive preparation and it seemed often that there were large seeds that had to be eaten around or a tough outer shell that was best cracked with a hammer and chisel.

But despite his doubts, Rudolf presents himself to one of the senior kitchen maids at the appointed time, glancing around for a familiar face. There are a handful that he knows in passing, but no clue as to who sent him even if the maid seems to be expecting him, nodding that he should join the group preparing the many fruits that would grace the tables.

There are a dozen or so sharp silver knives at work carving the fruits intro elegant shapes or else piecing them apart and the occasional loud noise coming from outside to indicate the splitting of particularly touch shells, but the stern older fae watching over it all puts Rudolf at the sink, washing the fruits and de-seeding some that had been cut open.

And at that, Rudolf breathes a sigh of relief. As much as washing the fruits is a tedious task and a messy one - he’ll have to change before he dines with the king - the knives are undoubtedly exceedingly sharp and Rudolf rather needs his fingers to paint. Add to that if he were to cut himself the king would worry even more and the realm worries him enough as it is. 

More than Rudolf would have thought possible, once upon a time. In the tales the fae realm was thick with dark magic and the fae king almost seemed more a fell sorcerer that directed puppets as opposed to ruling. And yet Rudolf suspects that if his father ever does negotiate with the fae king in person they will have more in common than either of them would suspect. Both sometimes seem to send almost every waking moment attending to their realms.

Rudolf finishes de-seeding the fruit and begins to wash a few more that have been added to the pile before the tendril of guilt comes, deep inside of him. Smrt always took time for him. Ate with him daily. It seemed an unfair comparison to think that his absent father and the fae king were the same in any regard. But at the same time, he could not help the thought. 

He’d asked for his father when he’d been young. And the answer had always been the same - that his father was busy being the emperor, tending to whatever new crisis had come. Smrt too attended so diligently to his realm, yet if Rudolf went to Smrt he was there. Present. Just the king, not a servant denying him entry to his father’s study. It-

Rudolf shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts. As much as there was no knife in his hand, he needed his wits about him here. It would not do for him to leave seeds where there should be none or forget to rinse a fruit.

He tries thinking about painting instead, though that doesn’t last long and he eventually finds himself mindlessly repeating the tasks. Washing the fruit. Scooping out the seeds where he could. Drying it. Passing it off. Turning to find yet more fruit had been added to the pile.

And it’s physical work. The fruits are large and some are awkward. But still he perseveres until the pile finally remains empty. It’s only then that he sees the completed dishes arrayed on a table across the room and the last few ones still in progress as the cutters artfully twirl their knives just as Rudolf himself might twirl a paintbrush. 

The thought that the odd fruits could be made into such beautiful art seems both entirely natural - Rudolf had lived amongst the fae for long enough that he’d seen their fruit before, both upon trees and upon the king’s table - and so utterly strange. It was one thing knowing that a strange brow spiked fruit could be made into a delicious pale drink that was almost transparent. It was another thing entirely to see it happen before his eyes. Or perhaps in this case it would be better said that it happened behind his back.

The gruff older fae dismisses him with a nod and Rudolf heads straight for the baths.

The hot water is an almost divine relief, but Rudolf treasures the clean clothes he dons before heading to the room that he and the king take their evening meal in far more. He’d gotten water and fruit juice on himself almost as soon as he’d started washing the fruit, and it made his clothes stick in a way that he hadn’t realized how much he hated until he’d been walking to the baths.

“Majesty.” The king is already there, sprawled across a daybed, lazily reading something over when Rudolf arrives.

“Rudolf.” The king smiles. “How was your time in the kitchens?”

Rudolf finds himself smiling. “I dare say I shall appreciate the scullery maids more now that I did.”

That brings a good natured chuckle from the king.

“Were you the one that sent me there?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

From Smrt that is a yes, and Rudolf imagines there is some lesson to it about appreciating servants. Given the specifics it must have been Anna’s idea to a degree as she was the one most often dealing with the day to day running of the palace, especially with Aemilia away. But his mind is rather too exhausted to make sense of the specifics of it all in that moment. Perhaps tomorrow if his believed painting tutor decides to spend an hour extolling the virtues of painting still life fruit he can think on it then.

[tunamayojazz]

Hi!

38 for Inuokko.

Thanks!

38. Describe their ideal home

Hmm...I think they wouldn't choose to live in the city. Maybe in the outskirts of Tokyo. Not in a condo where they'd have to be close to other humans, maybe somewhere a little isolated and near nature. It would be an issue if they had to share a lift with others while covered in post-mission blood, and Yuta radiates way too much cursed energy anyways 🤭 Their house would be a mix of traditional and modern, with lots of wooden furniture (I know they aren't cheap but by the time they get their own place they can afford it hehe). The house wouldn't be too neat, more like an organized mess? I think if Toge lived alone it could get pretty messy (still nothing crazy) but because Yuta likes it neat he makes sure to put in effort with cleaning up.

The house has lots of warm lighting, and they both made sure the house was as cozy as possible because they really value comfort when it comes to relaxing and sleeping. I think it wasn't something they paid much attention to until they became adults, and they really feel just how important it is to have a cozy place to come home to after a mission. Game time is important to Toge and by extension Yuta, so they have a pretty decked out living room with tons of games, with a large kotatsu infront of the TV. Toge's favorite game is the Splatoon franchise, while Yuta is more of a Animal Crossing kind of guy (Yuta, teary eyes wide in gleeful surprise: "Jun (Marshal) looks just like you babe...". Toge refutes that with a scoff. "Okaka...!") (Coincidentally, Marshal and Toge are both Libras). When Maki and Panda are over, they play Mario Party and Switch Sports (which Maki is obscenely good at. You don't want to challenge her to a round of Chambara).

The kitchen is Toge's territory. He did a lot of research before they built the kitchen, ensuring the design would be sufficient for his style of cooking and also looked into what cooking utensils were recommended. They have a little island/bar that they use for meals like breakfast and dessert. Lunch and dinner is usually at the dining table (it fits up to four people). Yuta's not so interested in cooking or food in general (this is canon actually) but he does like doing it from time to time when it's with his friends. It's quality time spent, too. There are some dessert recipes he has memorized though, only because Toge like them so much (it's pudding most of the time).

I am also a firm believer in Inuokko collects plushies because they're weak to cuteness. There are also really big ones just so they have something to hug when one of them has a mission trip for a couple of days/weeks. I don't think they collect too many books, but they have a shelf for a few precious ones amongst other things like picture frames. Yuta picks up photography in his adult years and their house is littered with them. Visitors (Yuji especially) would spend like a good 30 minutes just ooh aah-ing at their fridge because there are so many polaroids attached to it. And of course, they have a garden! A rather big one too. They both care for it a lot and are actually quite the gardening nerds (and by that I mean they talk about gardening tools a lot while Maki looks on in horror and watch Youtube videos about gardening ideas and tips). They also have a nice table by their garden for when the weather is good and they feel like eating outside. It's not completely exposed, so they enjoy drinking hot tea and snacking there when it's pouring too.

Last but not least, they have pets! Two cats and one dog (I must specify that it is a Border Collie). Yuta will find Toge napping with all of them in the living room more often than not and it's just the best thing ever.

[noodyl-blasstal]

Monster mash 16 and Taako!

"I am not losing this bet, so I’m staying right here. And If I die in this haunted house, at least everyone will know I wasn’t a coward." From Monster Mash Prompts which you can find here. 

Thank you so much for this prompt - sorry that it’s essentially just a lot of stupid ideas in a trench coat.

______________

“Taako, just one more time, just to clarify, the reason you rang me at work, told me there was an emergency, asked me to bring the car, and to come straight away was because you needed a lift?” Kravitz leaned sulkily on the door frame, watching Lup and Barry gathering their bags of kit in the background.

“I’m gay Krav, I can’t drive.” Taako replied, rolling his eyes and shouldering his cooler. As if this was some kind of actual justification???

Lup snorted out a laugh, which she quickly turned to a cough as Taako wheeled to glare at her.

“Taako. Love of my life, man of my dreams,my betrothed, I have some news about my sexuality.” Kravitz was struggling to keep his tone even, but if he laughed he lost the argument.

“What do you mean, Krav?” Barry batted his eyelashes, face a picture of innocence.

“Krav… have, have you been lying to Taako?” Lup gasped. “How could you?”

Kravitz gave an exaggerated groan. He hated them, he loved them.

"Can I at least come in before I come out?"

"No!" They all chorused, moving towards the door.

"You can come out in the car, stud." Taako reassured him. 

“I hate you all. Where are we going?” Kravtiz didn’t mean to ask the second bit, it just popped out. Obviously he wasn’t driving them anywhere because he was going back to work.

“Ghost house.” They replied as one.

“Ghost house.” Kravitz repeated. So, an evening spent in the middle of nowhere while Lup delighted in scaring Barry, and, by extension, Taako. Perfect. “Are you doing another collab?”

“Lup bet this one was too scary for me.” Taako said. Kravitz wagered that Lup was probably right.

“Uh huh, so you…” Kravitz waited for the reply

“Designed a three course meal which is the perfect accompaniment to spooky boys.” Taako answered, grabbing Kravitz’s shoulder and pushing to turn him round. “Now stop stalling. It’s a few hours drive and we need to get the kit set up.”

“I didn’t agree to drive you anywhere.” Kravitz said as he was steered towards his car.

“Uh huh.” Taako passed him a cooler. His stupid traitor hands took it.

“I shouldn’t have left work.” Kravitz definitely shouldn’t have left work. Okay, so he’d put in loads of overtime lately, and his boss was his Mum, and when he’d said he needed to leave she’d rolled her eyes and told him to have a good weekend. But it wasn’t too late to go back to work… Kravitz opened the car.

“I should go back.” 

“Okey dokey bud.” Barry grinned placidly as he piled into the back of the car with his equipment.

“Sounds like a plan, Kraverino.” Said Lup, opening the passenger side door.

“I’ll miss you while I’m getting eaten by ghosts.” Taako said, ducking under Lup’s arm to claim the front seat as his own. “Flip wizard!” He added, flipping Lup off lazily when she huffed her disapproval.

Kravitz buckled his seatbelt, looked at the car full of the most irritating people he knew, and told Taako to put the address into the satnav. 

“So anyway, I’m gay.” He said, as they pulled away.

_____________________________________________________________

Once they’d jimmied their way through a loose side door, Taako had set up his gas stove in the kitchen and wrestled the oven back to life somehow. He laid out a beautiful cloth on the dining room table while Barry tinkered with the EMF gauge and Lup arranged the lights. Kravitz stayed back and handed out tape, drinks, and snacks. It had long been established that his best contribution to this part of any shoot was staying out of the way as much as possible.

They’d both filmed their intros and Lup and Barry had gone to tour the house while Taako prepped his ingredients, flirting with the camera while Kravitz pretended he wasn’t completely entranced watching his fiance perform so effortlessly - it never got old. Taako was chopping chocolate when the scraping noises started. He rolled his eyes hard at the camera and told them that Lup was up to her usual tricks. Kravitz was glad. Lup delighted in scaring Barry whenever they did this, and Taako always got suckered in too - no matter how much he said he didn’t believe in ghosts. It was all fun and games for Lup, but Krav was the one who had to go through ‘ghost proofing’ the house, sleeping with the lights on, sternly telling off the wind if it sounded too spooky, and making a salt line around the perimeters each night (while also trying to stop the cats eating it) for at least a week after the ‘haunting’. Lup could never know, Taako had sworn him to secrecy, and as much as Kravitz would love to just tell her to stop, he also loved that Taako let him in on this weakness, so the pattern would continue. So far though… so good. Maybe tonight would be better.

___________________________

“Okay, listen close and listen hard, Taako’s going to repeat this step twice for you: Wash. Your. Hands. What did I say Krav?” 

Kravitz rolls his eyes affectionately. Taako has recently started talking to him off-screen in his videos and it’s nice that he trusts him enough. Not that Kravitz would ever star in them - he was not a chef - but the last guy who’d worked with Taako and featured in them had been awful. Trusting Kravitz enough to involve him in the Taako brand (tee em tee em tee em) felt like a prize.

“Wash your hands!” Kravitz repeated with enthusiasm.

“Why do we do that?” Taako asks grinning. 

“So you don’t get chilli on your dick.” Kravitz knew the line well by now.

“So you don’t get chilli on your dick.” Taako intones seriously, and smirks at the camera. “Not that chaboy ever would, Taako knows better, but you all need reminding.”

Taako was most of the way through the spicy meatball starter (“...it’s not about any eyeball bullshit, Krav, it’s about the fact that if you don’t simmer it long enough the sauce is watery as fuck. Horrifying!”) when Lup and Barry reappeared. Lup immediately jumped into shot.

“Hope you’re all excited for some more Blair Witch Project style vlogging while Taako runs from the terrifying monsters. Turns out we’ve already got some dropping temperatures and spooky crackles upstairs! This one’s gonna be baller!” 

Taako bumped her out of frame with his hip and kept cooking. Lup dived back in to roll her eyes and throw up a peace sign, then scooted off to do more important ghost business. To be fair, it wasn’t usually until after the food that things got bad - an occupied Taako was not a spooked Taako. Given time to think though? That’s when things went wrong.

_______________________

“Now that the souffle is in, we have to kill some time. Let's go and help Lup and Barold check the spookometers. Although…” Taako took a moment to glare threateningly at the space around them. “...if any ghosts make too much noise they’ll ruin the rise and they won’t get to enjoy my cooking. The joke’s on them if they fuck it up.”

Kravitz still isn’t entirely sure how Taako got the oven working, or if it’s safe to leave it running, but it’s probably best that they’re further away if it explodes anyway.

___________________

“And that’s it. Three courses to enjoy with your life-challenged friends! Thank you for cooking along with me. Be sure to like and subscribe, and make sure you check out Lup and Barry’s channel too, Phantasmal Resplendent, link in the description box. This has been Sizzle It Up With Phantasms, thank you for watching!”

Taako wiggles his fingers, blows a kiss, and then, finally, shuts off the camera. 

“Okay Bones, we’re off the hook for content now! How shall we keep ourselves entertained?” He waggles his eyebrows alluringly and trails a hand up Kravitz’s arm.

“Taako, we’re in what’s apparently a murder house, your sister and Barold are upstairs, and it’s freezing.” Taako knows this, he just likes to make Kravitz play the reasonable one.

“I can think of some options for warming you up.” More eyebrow waggling.

“Taako! You absolutely have to behave.” Kravitz knows Taako’s just teasing, but he still feels a blush rising. This man will be the death of him. 

“Spoilsport.” Taako mutters, then jumps as a loud creaking noise comes from above them. “Shit. What was that?” Taako’s head snaps up towards the ceiling. Kravitz prepares himself for a long night of this and hopes that Lup is done fucking with Barry soon. Taako always ends up as collateral.

“It’s okay, just an old house. It’s probably settling.” Kravitz replies reassuringly. The loud, chilling laugh, followed by a scraping as if furniture was being dragged around somewhat ruined the calming effect.

“Nope.” Taako says simply, hitting the floor, and scooting under the tablecloth.

Kravitz crouched down, lifted the cloth, and looked in at Taako balled up underneath. “Do you want to go, love? I don’t mind. We can wait in the car? Or drive to that service station a bit back? Lup and Barry can just ring when they’re done.”

Taako shook his head emphatically. “Lup bet I couldn’t do this.” He muttered. Kravitz opened his mouth to tell him that it didn’t matter, but Taako cut him off. “Taako does not lose bets, so I’m staying right here, and you’re staying right here with me because I need you. If I die in this haunted house, at least everyone will know I wasn’t a coward. Now hold my hand.” Kravitz was going to marry this idiot so hard. He grabbed Taako’s hand, laced their fingers, and kissed his knuckles. Their linked hands made worming his way under the table to join Taako tricky, but it was worth it.

“It’s going to be alright, love.” Kravitz said, tucking Taako under his free arm, other hand still firmly linked. And it was alright, there was more creepy laughter, and the temperature just kept dropping, but although the table occasionally creaked the cloth didn’t lift. Kravitz hoped they could just stay here until Lup and Barry were done. Then they heard the scream. It wasn’t Barry’s, they knew Barry’s, that was a scream Kravitz had never heard before. Taako immediately stiffened and began to push Kravitz’s arm away. 

“It’s okay, love.” Kravitz tried to hug him closer.

“It’s fucking not.” Taako ducked under his arm and out from under the table. “Get off my sister, ghost bastards!” Taako yelled as he ran for the stairs.

Kravitz scrambled after Taako. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen him move so quickly. There was a second scream and Taako ran even faster, taking the last few stairs two at a time and kicking open the door the noise seemed to be coming from. Kravitz desperaturely tried to focus on the matter at hand, but fuck that was hot.

He made it into the room just in time to see Taako flinging himself at Lup and tackling her to the ground, then springing back up in a low stance in front of her. Lup was pale and shaking, silent tears running down her face.

Then Kravitz saw Barry.

What was left of Barry.

Fuck, that was a lot of blood.

Kravitz fell to his knees beside the prone form - he might be used to working with corpses, but he knew how to recognise when someone wasn’t one yet. “Lup, what happened?” Kravitz waited a beat for her reply. None came. “You need to tell me so I can help him.”

“I, I don’t know… I was checking the temperature readings and I turned round and…” Lup tailed off.

Kravitz hunched over Barry, reaching to check his pulse, trying to ignore the cloying sweet smell of his blood.

The cloying sweet smell.

For fuck’s sake. Kravitz poked Barry’s ‘corpse’ hard in the cheek. Barry cracked open an eye and grinned up at him.

“He’s not dead.” Kravitz said, sitting back on his heels.

“Can you save him?” Taako asked hesitantly, he had slumped to the ground to wrap a comforting arm round Lup’s shoulders and looked equally as ashen.

“From Lup? Probably not.” Kravitz replied, rolling his eyes as Barry started laughing.

Lup’s head snapped up immediately and the fear was replaced with a look that Kravitz hoped he was never on the receiving end of. Taako let go just in time as Lup dived for Barry.

“I thought you were dead! You absolute fuck!”

Kravitz couldn’t tell if she was hugging him or trying to squeeze the life out of him for real. 

“Are you okay, love? That was a lot.” Kravitz reached out a hand to tug Taako up from the floor.

“Oh yeah, chaboy’s great. Just thought my sister was getting murdered and saw my best friend’s bloody corpse. Taako’s all good. All in a night’s work” Taako replied.

“Uh huh. So you don’t need a hug?” Kravitz asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not while you’re covered in Barry’s…” Taako takes a moment to sniff Kravitz’s shirt, pokes the ‘blood’ with a finger and tentatively licks it. “... syrup? Barold! What the actual fuck? Everything’s going to be so sticky.” 

“Worth it!” Barry says happily, finally getting up. “That’s for all the times you got me. Don’t worry, I got the whole thing on camera.” 

Lup glares hard and dives for the tripod in the corner. “Already backed up online.” Barry’s shit eating grin doesn’t falter.

“It wasn’t because I thought it was a ghost.” Lup says.

“Yeah, sure Lup, of course.” Barry replies. 

“It was because you were hurt. I thought you were dead!” Lup’s voice was deadly serious, usual attitude gone. “I thought you were dead…” Her voice cracks.

Kravitz wonders if there’s a way for him to grab Taako and get out. Maybe she and Barry are finally going to have a conversation.

Taako clearly has the same thought and the two of them make for the door. Barry and Lup don’t look round.

“I hope they remembered to switch off the camera.” Taako stage whispers to Kravitz as they walk back down the stairs.

Kravitz huffs out a laugh. Safely downstairs he tugs Taako into a hug, despite the feigned disgust at Barry’s syrup. “You were so brave.” 

Taako grins up at him. “Obvi. Chaboy doesn’t scare easy.”  Kravitz decides it’s not the time to present any evidence to the contrary, and runs a hand up his back instead. “So, that thing with the door…”

[samsinghhinwick]

Sam Singh Hinwick House

Hinwick House is a magnificent Georgian mansion located in the picturesque countryside of Northamptonshire, England. Built in the early 18th century, the property has undergone numerous renovations and restorations over the years, including an extensive refurbishment in the 21st century that transformed the interior spaces into a luxurious and modern retreat.

The interior design of Sam Singh Hinwick House blends contemporary and classic styles to create a sophisticated and inviting atmosphere that celebrates the property's rich history while embracing modern comfort and functionality. The designer carefully selected furnishings, fabrics, and finishes that complement the architectural features of the house and create a harmonious and cohesive design scheme.

Upon entering the house, visitors are greeted by a grand foyer that sets the tone for the rest of the interior spaces. The foyer features a soaring ceiling, intricate moldings, and a stunning crystal chandelier that adds a touch of glamour to the space. The designer chose a neutral color palette of whites, creams, and grays for the walls and floors to create a serene backdrop for the furnishings and art.

The main living areas of Hinwick House are designed for entertaining and relaxation, with ample seating areas and plenty of natural light. The drawing room is a highlight of the house, with its tall windows, ornate fireplace, and elegant furnishings. The designer chose a mix of traditional and contemporary pieces for the space, including a plush velvet sofa, a pair of classic armchairs, and a modern glass coffee table. The walls are adorned with a collection of artwork that adds color and texture to the space.

The dining room at Hinwick House is equally impressive, with its high ceilings, intricate moldings, and dramatic chandelier. The designer chose a round table and upholstered chairs for the space, creating a cozy and intimate atmosphere for dinner parties. A large mirror on one wall reflects the light and adds depth to the room.

The kitchen at Hinwick House is a chef's dream, with state-of-the-art appliances, ample counter space, and a large island for food prep and casual dining. The designer chose a mix of materials for the space, including marble, stainless steel, and wood, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere that blends seamlessly with the rest of the house.

The bedrooms at Hinwick House are designed for comfort and relaxation, with plush bedding, soft lighting, and elegant furnishings. The master suite is particularly luxurious, with its king-sized bed, sitting area, and en suite bathroom. The designer chose a mix of fabrics for the space, including silk, velvet, and linen, creating a sumptuous and inviting atmosphere.

The bathrooms at Hinwick House are equally impressive, with their high-end fixtures, luxurious materials, and spa-like atmosphere. The designer chose marble, glass, and polished chrome for the finishes, creating a sleek and modern look that is both functional and beautiful.

The library at Hinwick House is a cozy and inviting space, with its built-in bookshelves, comfortable armchairs, and warm lighting. The designer chose a mix of leather and fabric for the furnishings, creating a comfortable and inviting atmosphere for reading and relaxation.

The outdoor spaces at Hinwick House are equally impressive, with their manicured lawns, colorful gardens, and stunning views of the surrounding countryside. The designer created several seating areas for outdoor entertaining, including a covered terrace with a fireplace and a poolside lounge area with comfortable chairs and umbrellas.

In conclusion, the interior design of Hinwick House is a testament to the skill and creativity of the designer. With its blend of classic and contemporary styles, luxurious materials, and attention to detail, the house is a stunning example of modern luxury that celebrates the property's rich history and natural beauty. Whether relaxing in the elegant living spaces, enjoying a gourmet meal in the dining room, or unwinding in one of the luxurious

[dm-001]

How can modern restaurant interior design optimize space utilization to accommodate more guests?

In modern restaurant interior design, efficient space utilization is key to accommodating more guests and maximizing revenue potential. By strategically planning layouts, incorporating multifunctional furniture, and utilizing innovative design solutions, restaurants can optimize their space to create a comfortable and welcoming environment. In this article, we explore how modern restaurant interior design can optimize space utilization to accommodate more guests.

Open Floor Plans and Flexible Layouts (approximately 100 words): Open floor plans are a popular choice in modern restaurant interior design as they create a sense of spaciousness and allow for flexible layouts. By eliminating unnecessary walls and partitions, restaurants can maximize the use of available space. This design approach provides the flexibility to rearrange furniture and adapt the layout to accommodate different party sizes and seating arrangements. Using movable dividers or screens, restaurants can create semi-private areas for larger groups or convert the space for private events. The versatility of open floor plans ensures efficient space utilization and the ability to accommodate more guests.

Multifunctional Furniture and Space-Saving Solutions (approximately 100 words): Incorporating multifunctional furniture is an effective way to optimize space utilization in modern restaurant interiors. Tables with adjustable heights or extension leaves can be transformed to accommodate varying party sizes. Banquette seating with built-in storage provides an opportunity to maximize space by utilizing the area beneath the seating for storing extra tableware or supplies. Wall-mounted or foldable tables and chairs offer space-saving solutions that can be easily stowed away when not in use. By investing in innovative furniture designs, restaurants can create a versatile and efficient space that can accommodate more guests.

Bar and Counter Seating (approximately 100 words): Integrating bar and counter seating options is an excellent way to optimize space and increase guest capacity in modern restaurant interior design. Bar stools or high-top tables along the bar area or near the kitchen counter provide additional seating without occupying significant floor space. This seating arrangement is ideal for solo diners or small groups, allowing them to enjoy a quick meal or observe the culinary activity. By offering a combination of traditional table seating and bar/counter seating, restaurants can accommodate different preferences and increase overall guest capacity.

Outdoor and Al Fresco Dining (approximately 100 words): Utilizing outdoor spaces for dining purposes is a smart approach to expand seating capacity in modern restaurant interior design. Outdoor patios, rooftops, or sidewalk seating areas can be creatively designed and furnished to provide an inviting and comfortable dining experience. By extending the dining area outdoors, restaurants can accommodate more guests during favorable weather conditions. Incorporating features such as retractable awnings, heaters, or outdoor fire pits enables year-round usability, further maximizing seating capacity and revenue potential.

Smart Technology and Reservation Systems (approximately 100 words): Incorporating smart technology and reservation systems into modern restaurant interior design can streamline operations and optimize space utilization. Digital reservation systems allow for efficient table management, ensuring that every available seat is utilized. Interactive menu boards or tablet-based ordering systems can reduce wait times and facilitate faster turnover of tables. Additionally, integrating smart lighting and HVAC controls can help optimize energy usage, further enhancing the efficiency of the space. By leveraging technology, restaurants can improve guest flow, maximize seating capacity, and provide a seamless dining experience.

Conclusion (approximately 50 words): Modern restaurant interior design focuses on optimizing space utilization to accommodate more guests. By employing open floor plans, multifunctional furniture, bar seating, outdoor dining areas, and smart technology, designer such as Flipspaces can create efficient and versatile spaces that maximize guest capacity and enhance the overall dining experience.

[xkv8r]

Another story, this time for someone I met on Twitch. No vore today, they wanted an anthro bombchu being burpy and too fat for clothes at a buffet.

2.8k words, estimated reading time 14 minutes.

I'm weaving inbetween the other buffet staff as I come back from my lunch break when my phone buzzes from a text message. It's a message from my boss, "Get the private room ready, we have a party that just bought it out for the full 4 hours. Full dessert catering, you're head waiter on call for it, get them whatever they need."

Looks like someone is having a celebration. The private room only gets broken out for big events and occasions. It's also something of a surprise to see it not rented out weeks in advance, typically we have plenty of time to prepare. The buffet table will need to be set up along with all the chairs, there is even mood lighting and a sound system available at the customers request. It's a lot of work, and I waste no time heading over there to start unpacking it all.

Normally I'd have other staff helping me, but with how long this party has the room rented for, I suspect most of the other waiters are helping the chefs prep the massive amount of food that will be required to cater this event. For someone unfamiliar with the restaurant business, it's hard to really comprehend the massive amount of food that gets made for this kind of stuff. There is always waste at the end, but that table needs to be kept fully stocked for the entire duration we are contracted for, and a large group can clear out that table faster than you might expect.

Fortunately I've done this plenty of times before, and I'm able to get the room ready in no time at all. Two dozen soft padded chairs run up and down a massive mahogany table, ready to be decked out with desserts. The stage is set, and the actors start to pour in. Other staff cart in all kinds of decadent sweets, plates of warm brownies, trays of moist cupcakes, and even a self service milkshake machine to let the guests refill their drinks on the fly.

It looks like we made it just in time too, my phone buzzes from another text message telling me to meet the first arrival out front. Apparently this party has wasted no time getting here, checking my watch, it's been only an hour since we started setting up! Its a quick walk through the dining area where other servers cart around plates piled high with everything from mozzarella sticks to chicken wings. Cheap filling food makes up the bulk of our menu, and more than a few customers have decided to take full advantage of that fact. Plenty of patrons are lazing about in booths, either taking time to digest their massive meals, or having their plates refilled to further indulge in gluttony. I have a job to do however, and I make it through the front doors just in time to see the guest of honor stepping out of his cab.

The anthro bombchu is among the strangest species I've ever seen, never mind had as a patron. While still apparent from his large incisors, most of his rodentine heritage is obscured by more exotic features. Rather than the rounded ears of a rat, his are more akin to those of a fox, and are kept slicked back by a mask in a navy blue color so dark it's nearly black. His dull yellow fur is a color that I am likewise unaccustomed to seeing, and only serves to let him stand out from the crowd even more.

Indeed his species is so exotic that it takes me a few moments to notice the other obvious physical trait he has on display, his considerable obesity. Wide thighs and a low hanging gut constrained tightly by a button down shirt tell a story of extensive feasting. It's quite common to see someone with a good bit of heft eating here. Once your appetite grows past a certain point, all you can eat buffets become the most economic option. I'm all too familiar with the regulars here, proper gluttons who can't eat anywhere else without breaking the bank under their ravenous hunger. I know a few of them are even larger than this guy, so it's nothing I haven't seen before. Big furs need big meals, and I could hardly begrudge our most loyal customers for their needs. We have reinforced benches available for our larger clients and offer other services to help those who have overindulged on food for a reason. Few things build customer loyalty like a bellyrub to settle your stomach and a shoulder to lean on when you waddle your barely mobile behind back to your car.

Plenty of other buffets are all too happy to kick out someone who hits their 3 plate limit, but we've acquired a reputation for catering to the needs of big eaters, and it's a badge we wear with pride. Here you can glut yourself until you are too full to stand, ask for your tenth plate that evening, and get it brought over to your table. You just can't get that kind of service anywhere else, and as I walk him through the main dining area, he gets plenty of examples of the extent of the services we offer. The smell of the other customers meals sets the rotund rodent's stomach rumbling and his hunger motivates him to keep a quick pace to the rear of the establishment where I open the door and reveal the dining table decked out in decadent sweets and with a massive cake laid out as the centerpiece.

He dashes past me in a wobbling sprint as I shoot out a quick text to my boss, "Guest of honor is in the private room, do we know when the rest of his party is arriving?" and almost immediately get a response "It's only him." I glance up to see the bombchu already shoveling cookies onto a plate with reckless abandon before I text back "What?" and look back to watch in awe as the bombchu tips the plate back and lets the stack of sweets on top of it slide into his gut. The sight is so mesmerizing that I almost miss my phone buzzing, "Guy's got a lot of confidence, we've already gotten paid, I don't expect problems." Whoever this guy is, he's got to be loaded, and suffering from the kind of hunger that normal meals just won't touch. I'm in no position to judge others for their vices, so with no further objections I get to work stacking up platters for him to demolish.

The blubbery bombchu is so eager to eat as fast as he possibly can that it's inevitable he would swallow some air during his binging. An uncomfortable sounding gurgle emanates from his guts before being followed by a loud BUURRUP. He only takes a brief moment to sigh in relief and pat his gut before returning to his gorging. Working at a buffet, I'm used to people occasionally overindulging, but this guy is something else. It's like he isn't even aware of how far beyond reason his gluttony has taken him.

The cake is up next on the chopping block. It towers over the both of us, dense, moist, and coated in a thick layer of rich frosting, it stands as a testament to the skill of our catering crew. It is also cake however, and that means it is spongy and full of air, an issue that is only compounded by the fact that it's final destination is inside the belly of a bombchu who is eating like his life depends on it. I cut thick wedges of cake and plop them onto his plate where he decides to forego utensils entirely, settling for picking them up in his chunky paws and cramming them into his muzzle as fast as possible. By the time I start cutting up the next tier of cake, he is already licking his paws clean of frosting with smacking noises occasionally interrupted by a short URP.

Chew, swallow, burp. Once the bombchu gets into the rhythm of eating, he doesn't stop, letting pressure build up before releasing it in sugary belches. His digestion ramps up in response to the gluttony, and calories are quickly processed into pudge by the thousand. Yellow diamonds of fur start to peek out between the buttons on his shirt, growing wider with each gulp before shrinking slightly when he burps. Every time the cycle repeats however, a fraction more fur is exposed, and the already strained stitching gets pulled more and more taunt.

Eventually, something has to give, and it's certainly not going to be his gluttony. To my surprise, the fabric next to the buttons rips open in a frayed line, the thicker thread holding the buttons on proving more resilient in the end. Fluffy yellow flab oozes out from the tear, but the bombchu doesn't even seem to notice, he is evidently far more occupied with cramming more sweets into his maw than maintaining his modesty. He just grunts in relief at the release of pressure before letting out an airy EHUURRRP and continues stuffing himself.

Slices of cake continue to get snapped up by the ravenous blubberball, having decided to just cram chunks into his maw and swallow them whole rather than worry about chewing. Every few swallows of compressed cake are met with another BHLUURRP and the sounds of his shirt continuing to shred itself in a desperate attempt to cling to his rapidly widening frame. Soft belly flab slowly frees itself of its prison with each gulp, forming soft rolls and revealing a deep navel.

I'm bringing over the next plate when a deep BRUUUULLP rumbles out of the bombchu's bloated belly, showering me in hot air and the cloyingly sweet smell of partially digested desserts. He gives his distended midsection a couple good slaps before returning to his feasting as if nothing had happened, clearly more concerned with getting his money's worth out of the experience than he is maintaining any semblance of decorum. In a way, I'm actually somewhat envious of him. The most complicated thing he is going to be thinking about for the next few hours is whether he grabs his next bite with his left paw or his right.

Layer by layer the cake gets stuffed inside the slovenly rodent's garbage compactor of a gut. Every bite strains his clothes more and more and swallows are frequently accompanied by the sounds of a few more threads giving up the fight against thick squishy bombchu blubber. The tiers on the cake vanish slower as they get wider and his stomach gets fuller, but eventually our gluttonous guest of the hour manages to completely destroy the dessert, the last evidence it ever existed being wiped away completely when he licks the crumbs and frosting from his chops. A loud HUOOORP offers up a final eulogy for the massive dessert before the bombchu decides to move on to greener pastures.

Having had enough feasting on the solid food, I can see him eyeing the shake machine set up on the far side of the table, no doubt looking to quench his thirst after eating all that cake. He tries and fails to heave himself out of his seat, having stuffed himself into near immobility. Recognizing my skills are required, I put a hand on his meaty shoulder before asking "Need some help?" and getting a nod in response.

I'm well accustomed to customers eating more than they can stomach and needing some TLC to get back on their feet. The gold membership offers belly rubs among other perks for a reason, and as he has decided to rent the private room, the bombchu is entitled to all those benefits until his 4 hours expire. It takes a couple minutes to haul him up off of the bench, but once he's up it's just a matter of helping him make a jiggling waddle over to the other end of the table where the soft serve machine is. He pants and groans all the while, no doubt painfully full with sweets, but he's still quite motivated, and it doesn't take long for him to flop into his new bench once he gets there, where his shirt finally gives up completely, leaving his pudgy belly and chest exposed.

An ominous gurgle from his still sloshing stomach gives him pause before he beckons me over to start rubbing his gut, no doubt keen to take advantage of every service this establishment offers. My paws meet his doughy flesh and I'm shocked at how much give I feel when I sink into his belly, it's more like a balloon than the food packed gut it should be. An astonishing amount of air is still inside it, trapped underneath all that food. No wonder he can keep eating, he's hitting his limits with gas long before his guts fill up with food, the moment he lets out some air, he's ready to start eating again. I start kneading the fluffy yellow doughball on instinct and am rewarded with a long string of URP AHURP OHRP BHURP. Once the belches start it takes a good few minutes for them to stop, and smaller ones sometimes even get overridden by larger burps as more gas escapes his inflated guts.

Once his stomach is settled, the rotund rodent starts to drink directly from the shake machines hose, letting cool thick dairy get pumped into his swelling gut. My paws push into his plush underbelly and move air bubbles around inside, waiting for him to pause his chugging before I press in just the right spot to squeeze a gassy BHUUURP out of his maw. He swallows almost as much air as he does milkshake, and I have to work hard to keep his gassy guts content.

I do my best to keep kneading the swollen yellow orb of bombchu gut, but the thick shake is much harder to push around than the air his belly was full of a few moments ago. It moves sluggishly under my paws, and pressing outward against them as every gulp packs in more of the dense creamy liquid. His body bulges around what few clothes remain on his massive frame, and the creaking noises coming from them leave no doubt that the overstressed textiles are at their limit.

The bonded leather belt keeping his pants on looks like it can take no more. It was already on its last hole when the gluttony spree began, and no doubt fatigued from plenty of previous feasts. The glutton stops his chugging to reach under his shake filled stomach with both hands and grunts as he hefts it up before letting it all drop at once. It lands with a meaty slap and a deafening BRUUUHLP The belt bursts off and his gut surges forward, popping off the button on the front of his pants and destroying the zipper. Belly oozes outward to fill the newly opened space, pulling the fly of his pants even further apart. Even if he was not too fat to fit them, those pants will never close again. The denim looks like it could tear apart at any minute, creases have formed where the tension from being filled with hundreds of pounds of fat threatens to rip apart the seams.

It is a testament to his discipline that he goes right back to chugging from the shake machine. Even behind his mask, I can see the bombchu's expression grow more strained with each gulp, and his burps grow smaller and more strained. Between my massaging, and his sheer will to keep eating, we manage to pump the last few ounces of shake into his belly, and the machine clicks off, finally emptied of its contents, leaving the glutton to clutch his belly in pain, having conquered the buffet in its entirety.

The final accessory to meet the fate of its peers is the watch wrapped around the bombchus meaty wrist. It snaps off with a metallic ping, leaving a red mark around where it had compressed a limb as big around as my thigh down to half its size. For his part, it's all he can manage just to groan in pained overfullness and let out one last quiet burp. Finally, the bombchu can take no more, and just in time, my phone buzzes to let me know his 4 hours are up. All at once the toll of waiting on this obscene act of gluttony hits me, and I collapse against a wall in exhaustion. Both of us will need some time to recover from this experience, but I'm confident he will be a loyal customer for many years to come.

[lady-grace-pens]

FOAD Snippet [2]

Mid size fluffy bit between Emily and her sister Cal :)

Taglist: @wordwizards @flowerprose

•••

Mist coats the early morning horizon, mingling with Jack Frost gleefully dancing over the hills. Both plead the newborn sun, with its golden orange light, for five more minutes. The sun cries for its place in the stars.

Heavenly rings outline the shadowy figures of the people dotting the bare street far below. Children laughing, chasing each other round and round, while their dogs play along with them. Rather a nuisance to the adults having to pass by, but the youth laughs in the face of responsibility anyway.

Cal’s signature Chamomile tea, with notes of honey and vanilla, undo the knots constraining my vocal chords. My sister is across from me, fidgeting with the knobs on the stove. She’s been busying herself since she awoke, baking batches of fresh bread for our group with a song in her heart. Pumpernickel, sourdough, and rhye fill the entire apartment. Across our dining table the next room over lay the tub of butter, cinnamon, honey, jam and jelly, all of our favorite toppings.

My phone vibrates on my hip. I glance down at it.

“Pierre’s on his way, dearest.”

“Oh! Tell him to pick up eggs from the store on his way. I thought we had enough for everyone, but we’re short.”

I relay her message before turning back to the kitchen windows.

“Darling, are you sure you know where all your classes are? I could always escort you, if need be.”

Cal meets me with a mirriad of chuckles. “Sissy, this isn’t my first year here. How many times have we run down those halls when we were kids, waiting on MawMaw to finish her lectures?”

The scene plays out in the ripples of my tea. All our games of castle… Lord. It was only yesterday. She was the little princess and I was either her dragon or the queen, knighting invisible men for acts of great heroism and bravery. Sometimes Ilya would even play with us, if he happened to be there with his parents. Those were rare, though, we were usually alone. As much as our grandmother tried her damndest to be here for us throughout the extensive traveling life professors often have, I’m more of a mother to Cal than anybody else could be. It was always so lonely in the manor on weekends, when she visited her father. I was alone, save for Mother and a few maids. On Sunday nights, when she came back, I would race down the stairs screaming, hugging her and never wanting to let go.

Salty tears seep through the cracks of my smile. “Fair point. I know, darling, I’m just-”

“Looking out for me, I know.” Cal steps over to me, interlocking both our hands. “Emmy. I’m a sophomore now. You pushed me to graduate early in high school. You pushed me to become your Vice President. My grades are never short of excellent. You have nothing to worry about. It’s okay to let go a little bit, Sissy. Relax a bit, you know? Life isn’t always word documents and web pages. I’m going to get ready, watch the bread for me?”

She leaves for her room without another word.