hi i can't be bothered to write a description for these
basically i'm doing a quick bunch of writing prompts that my friend gives me and i have to write what i can in an amount of time
i'll only upload a few at a time
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day 2 - 'PK and the White Lady go on a date night, and PK's old Wyrm predator instinct returns'
1.8k words
stuffing, weight gain, hyper hips
“-And please, dear child, do not let Hornet nor Ghost into the pantry again,” the White Lady instructed the Pure Vessel.
The queen watched her vessel wave them off of palace grounds from her carriage, noticing a red and blue blur behind the Pure Vessel and watching them follow frantically. “Ah, our children do grow up so fast…”
“It surely must be good for them, yes, such responsibility?” The Pale King reassured his wife, “And it is merely a short moment without us.”
The White Lady sighed, “It has been too long since we’ve been by ourselves… At least we will get to mingle with our subjects beyond the palace walls again.”
The Pale King nodded, “Oh yes- well, I must admit that I had reserved all of the restaurant for only us instead!”
—----
The White Lady and Pale King clinked each other’s wine glass as they sat together, table lit by a lightly-fragrant candle. The two royal rulers of Hallownest both leaned onto the table, looking at each other with renewed admiration of each other; her, of his steadfast leadership of the kingdom, and him, of how she grounds him to the rest of the world. The restaurant they were in was empty sans them, giving them as much room as they would want for romance and love.
“So, my fair king, what desires do you have for today?” The White Lady picked up the menu to look it over; despite being one half of the king’s rule, the prices here were still eye-wateringly expensive.
“Besides just you, my lovely root?” The Pale King gave her (what she thought was) a wink, “I know not of what the dinner venue had, so I had ordered all of its platters!”
“...All of it?”
“Yes!”
On cue, a myriad of waiters had approached the ruling couple, platters in each of their hands. They had utilized neighboring tables to store their food as they presented each one to the king and queen, each one larger and more complex than the last serving. The White Lady had always been a fan of presentable foods, and this was no exception: each serving was coordinated in such a way to catch one’s eye to all of its ingredients.
“Ah, excellent! That is enough presentation for now, servant, I shall call upon you whence needed! Now, stand by; my queen and I desire only each other’s company.”
The White Lady stabbed her fork into a slice of marinated aspid meat, and started to lift it up to her mouth. Before she could even get her fork into her mouth, she witnessed her husband grab his entire steak with his bear hands and tear into it like an animal. She knew he was a Wyrm and he wasn’t exactly… mindful of his manners, but still, they were in view of some of their subjects, and they were expected to set an example.
The White Lady coughed, “My wyrm, please use your knife and fork.”
Unfortunately for her, the Pale King was too captivated into ripping apart his steak to listen to her right now. Despite her attempts at getting his attention, she could not break him out of his haze when he was like that. All she could do was hope that he doesn’t go overboard like last time and-
“Waiter! More steak immediately! I care not of its doneness, simply bring it out when readily available!”
The White Lady sighed into her hand; this would have been one ofthosenights, she thought.
The Pale King tore into the steak stockpile of the restaurant, slowly going from medium rare, to rare, to outright raw. He was practically swallowing each slab of meat whole, Wyrm-instincts telling him that he must eat as much as possible, size be damned. Between ravenous bites of meat and growls, the Pale King called for the waiters to bring more courses for him and his queen; the waiters were hesitant to approach, since he dismissed them earlier and they had seen his predatory teeth, but they acquiesced. Each new platter of what was supposed to be a fancy dish was rendered into shreds as the Pale King grabbed it by his hands, sending food scraps everywhere.
Thankfully for the White Lady, she wasn’t wearing her best dress tonight. That one was just a little too tight for her since she had bore her children; her current dress was much more loose and breathable, yet still allowed her motherly figure to be admired by the masses. Or, theywouldbe admired, if the Pale King hadn’t scared off most of the waiters here. She sighed in frustration, asking for more wine as she slowly picked at her meal.
The Pale King was downing platter after platter, growing bigger with each new morsel. The chefs back in the kitchen were working overtime on preparing his orders, if they weren’t just demands for platefuls of raw meats. With his small stature and immense metabolism, the sound of his Wyrm stomach echoed across the entire restaurant, resembling a monster’s growl more than anything. Wyrms could eat more than ten times their own bodyweight; a fact that the Pale King would show off as his gut slowly expanded throughout the dinner date. His cloak, perfectly modest at covering him every day, was now split apart, showing off his alabaster-white gut bloated with a near metric-ton of food. The pace of food coming out slowed to a crawl, then eventually stopped coming at all. Despite that, the Pale King wasn’t anywhere near satisfied, not in his mind. The next waiter that had come up to his table to take plates away without bringing more was dragged down by the collar.
“Waiter! Why have you ceased operations? My Root and I still desire yet more!” The Pale King snarled between his sharp teeth.
“I- whaguh-!” The waiter was on the verge of tears seeing his king act like this.
The White Lady coughed and threw her napkin onto her still-uneaten plate, causing enough of a ruckus to snap the Pale King out of it. She crossed her arms and looked at him with a sharp glare in her eyes.
“Ah- erm…” The Pale King coughed and let the waiter go, “I apologize for my behavior. I, with Wyrm as ancestry, tend to get carried away with my appetite.”
The White Lady rolled her eyes and took a big swig of her wine, “And?”
“I implore you to forgive me and I request that my root be served your finest dessert,” the Pale King looked at her, still getting a glare, “-with cacao if possible.”
“Mm-hmm,” The White lady hummed, pouring more wine into her glass.
—---
The carriage ride back to the White Palace was nice and quiet, thankfully. At least besides the near-constant growls and groans of the Pale King’s Wyrm-gut working on over a ton of meats, vegetables, carbs, and any other edible material that he could have gotten his hands on. Meanwhile, his poor wife only had chocolate cake and two bottles of wine. Even before the Pale King had left the table, his belly was already hard at work digesting everything he had eaten; chyme was pumped deep into his intestines, absorbed and already being turned into plush fat on his body. The bumpiness of the ride had not helped him either, as each bump on the road had caused the contents in his stomach to bounce around, making him belch up the gas trapped deep under whatever wasn’t digested already.
The Pale King shifted in his seat uncomfortably, as he was beginning to grind his hips against his wife’s. Before the ride, he barely took up a fifth of the seat next to his wife. Now, he was about as wide as the carriage. His cloak now was barely covering the top of his hips. Thankfully, he was modest underneath and no one else was out at this time, but The White Lady was still embarrassed that her husband looked plushier than she was at her best. The White Lady would always be considered the forefront of motherly figures thanks to all of the children she bore; her curvy hips, her ample figure, her cushy bosom, she was the perfect goddess for families. And then here her husband was, thighs almost wider than she was tall. She let out an annoyed huff as the carriage hit a bump, causing her to go practically face to face with her husband’s massive hips.
“Must you really show me up like this, my Wyrm?” The White Lady bemoaned, slurring her words a bit.
“Er… I apologize, my root,” The Pale King shifted in his seat, causing him to bump his wife into the side of the carriage more than once, “Is there… any way I can make this up to you?”
The White Lady looked out the window, trying to hide the blush on her face, “...Perhaps. But I’m still mad at you.”
The royal couple had finally made it back home. It had taken some effort for the Pale King to exit out of the carriage without destroying the entire thing, but he made it out. He was ridiculously wide and carrying an ass with more ass mass than the entirety of the White Lady. His hips took up the width of the path up to the palace, forcing the guards there to move aside or risk being knocked to the ground. Despite her earlier annoyance, the White Lady put her shoulder around her husband, giggling as she copped a feel of his plush cheeks in plain view of everyone behind them.
“I hope the children are asleep so we can get more alone time, my love,” The White Lady sighed, “It has been too long.”
The Pale King yipped as he felt her hand slip up his cloak, “Ah, I am certain that our Vessel has kept our abode safe and secure! We need only to return to bed and rest together!”
The royal couple opened the doors to their home, holding each other in their arms. They looked into each other’s eyes, warm from the feelings deep inside them. As they walked inside, they saw an entire crowd full of vessels, weavers, and Grimmkin were currently partying inside of their home. Beyond the wave, they could see Hornet and Ghost surrounding someone, chanting “Chug! Chug! Chug!” and cheering as they all lifted up the hardcore partier onto their shoulders. The Pure Vessel lifted up their arms in victory as they finished off the last of the beer keg, drunk beyond belief. However, the moment their eyes met with their mother’s and father’s, they instantly sobered up, and the party went quiet. Except for one Troupe Master who was at the top of the stairs, wine bottles in both hands and one of the Pale King’s cloak worn as a toga.
“My friends, our celebration does not end until I say so!” Grimm shouted out at the top of his lungs, before seeing the Pale King and White Lady stand inside of the doorway, “Oh.”
“My vessel,” the White Lady said, “What the fuck.”

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