unfinished mccrockers vriska xwg/slob/gas/sweat

The door opened with a rather haphazard force as Vriska reached the top of the steps, panting open-mouthed and giving it a shove with one meaty arm. As it banged against the wall, a small dent having been formed long ago by her reckless entering, the enormous troll squeezed her way through the doorway, her massive hanging apron of stomach bulging against either side and rubbing wetly against the frame, before her equally-flabby and perhaps even wider hips forced their way through. As she stepped forward, pushed the door closed behind her and rested her enormous bulk against it to firmly close it, her food grease-covered finger flicked the lightswitch on to illuminate her humble abode.

Spending all day on her feet in a too-small(-for-her) restaurant was enough to leave her breathless and sweaty by itself, not that the blueblood needed help in either department, but actually getting back to her apartment was the kicker, a long stretch of waddling, heaving and often times gurgling agitation to a full gut that left her about ready to crash on the nearest piece of furniture. It was probably a good thing that her shift dragged on so long, the twilight hours of dusk leading to often cooler air on her already-overheating mountain of flab, but even then she never fully escaped the stares and gawking of passerby, stunned at either the sight or the smell of such an enormous girl slogging along and crammed into a uniform that essentially amounted to an undersized pair of pants and a bra-top as she left a thick haze of flatulence behind her colossal ass. Of course, it wasn't like she had any objections to being ogled, merely flipping her densely-tangled, greasy mane of hair against her flabby back whenever the end wasn't caught in her slick asscrack and making lewd, flirtatiously obscene gestures at anybody who she thought was staring more because of the amount of skin she was showing or because her uniform clung so tightly to her, and less because of her unkept appearance, lingering odor and nonstop head-turning gas.

They say a woman is the queen of her own home, even when one's home was such a tiny, messy apartment, but the cramped quarters and perpetual mess had never bothered Vriska in the least. The dim light illuminated what could best be described as a pigsty befitting it's hoggish owner, with food cartons, articles of clothing and video games strewn across virtually every square inch of the room, and the dingy sofa was covered in food and sweat stains, as well as a very visible dip in the middle appropriately sized for the troll's gargantuan ass. The smell of take out, junk food and the occasional actual cooked meal barely succeeded in competing with the stale aroma of body heat and dampness that matched the flabby woman's own, and the air conditioner on the floor by the window had broken long ago, never seeing a replacement that could hope to properly freshen up the area. Home sweet home.

Naturally, after the arduous, overexerting task of waddling home, the bloated girl wanted nothing more than to get off of her feet, a task made harder by both her perpetual hunger and the difficulty in getting out of her own clothes. The greasy, slightly sagging doggy bag she had carried back from work was momentarily plopped on the nearest flat surface, and both of her hands pressed down on her overbearingly enormous, bare stomach as she shifted from foot to foot and began kicking her shoes off. Sweat was dripping from not only her brow, beneath her sticky, matted bangs, but from all over her body, leaving her flabby midriff slick and slippery under her palms. Beneath the unimaginably thick fat coating her torso and bulging out in front of her lay a graveyard of half-digested burgers, fries, and all manner of greasy, sloppy fast food, the remnants of whatever the glutton had managed to shovel into her maw from the unsold food and leftovers of a day's work churning angrily and burbling with gas and heat in the depths of her gut. The exercise from the walk home had only further agitated her already-volatile digestive system, and as she lifted one immensely flabby leg the bare minimum to kick off a shoe, a wet, brassy fart rumbled out from her, a comparatively mild one by her standards but a gut-turningly potent release to most normal individuals that dragged on several seconds and barely managed to ripple the sheer weight of her ass as it trumpeted from behind her mountainous figure. Mere seconds was all it took for the small space between her and the door behind her to fill with stench and heat, and she snorted as her own hair-raising flatulence reached her face, too used to her own bombastic releases to respond with much else then a shrug. After all, she knew she was capable of so much better (or worse).

With her shoes off, she grabbed her bag and trudged further on, removing her hat and tossing it on the nearest hooklike object before plunging her arm into the bag and pulling out one of many sloppy, dripping hamburgers left to mingle and bounce about within. It didn't even matter to the blueblood that it was falling apart; whatever stayed between the wet buns was what went into her mouth, lips parted wide as she sunk her fangs into it and messily scarfed it down. A pickle and some condiments squeezed out the other side, wetly splattering onto her front, and her hand idly swatted them off, hand wiping a shower of sweat as well as the foodstuffs as it rubbed over her belly. A few more sloppy bites was all it took to get the rest down, minus how much of it squelched out of her mouth, down her chins and into her cleavage, but anything that stayed on her face was scooped back up, and her chubby fingers pushed it all into her slavering mouth so she could swallow, wetness marring her lips and cheeks. After gulping most of it down, she paused to belch up some more of the gas rumbling about within her, a wet, sloppy eruption of hot burger-tainted wind rumbling out from her lips, and turned to her mini-fridge for a suitable drink to wash it down.

Despite her mammoth size and appetite, her personal refrigerator was mostly scarce; almost all of her meals came from her job, and she rarely had much need to buy her own groceries. Still, a few token snacks littered the shelves, as well as her prize, several enormous four-gallon jugs of milk perfectly suited to her needs. As much as she appreciated downing untold quantities of fountain soda, the rich, thick, heavy milk was one of the few things truly capable of filling her up in terms of drinks, and if the lactose only exacerbated her indigestion and gas issues, she wasn't going to care. Grabbing a nearly-untouched jug, she screwed the top off, licked her lips greedily, and raised it to her mouth, dumping the rich dairy into her gullet. Trickles of milk escaped either side of her mouth, dribbling down her chin and between her heavy, sweat-covered breasts as she chugged, and it was almost an entire gallon's worth before her itch was scratched and the jug came back down. Her perpetually-churning stomach protested the influx of milk with more burbling, cramping noise, gas already welling up from her belly's attempts at handling the milk, and her lips smacked noisily as she gave a sharp laugh at the way her gut lurched and groaned with her movements as she began undressing properly.

The sheer amount of armfat Vriska was packing on either limb made tops a hassle, though at her size virtually every physical activity was a hassle, and she slid her hands under either immensely flabby breast to pull her chest-clinging top from beneath the thick, sweaty masses. Her perspiration had thoroughly soaked through her outfit hours ago, leaving the fabric damp and sticky on her grey blubber, and peeling it off was both relieving and a bit tickling, the slowly-warming air of the apartment on her slick, wet chest greatly appreciated. With how her top essentially functioned as a bra, the corpulent Scorpio had long since decided against trying to wear proper bras,

god i'm never going to finish this its been on my pastebin unlisted since september 1st 2014 fuck it we'll do it live i'm sorry everybody who actually wanted more of this MAYBE SOMEDAYYYYyyyyyy