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MEET LACEY . . . sweet as a button! made of powered sugar , coconut cream and silk ribbon. favorite hobbies are sewing, baking and laying on smoke's lap. ~ although she is sweet, she doesn't take kindly to those that get too close to ones she marks as hers. — jelly cats upon jelly cats, especially food themed ones!, ice cream lover to the point that smoke limits her to one strawberry ice cream cone per two weeks!

puppy!reader is a 24 year old whom met elijah in town when she was struggling to carry her grocery bag, she was taken back by how handsome he is. when he comes up to her and grabs the brown paper bag she stutters out a quiet "o-oh thank you."

puppy!reader moves into elijah's place after a year and half of seeing him. He doesn't randomly asks her, he takes her out to her favorite restaurant half way across town. reversed a seat near the window which was dimly light and romantic, towards the end of the night he takes out a velvet pink box and softly askes her if she wanted to move in with him.

puppy!reader falls into a certain dynamic that only makes senses to the pair. smoke being older than her, he tends to lean more into the authority figure aspect. "no, you need to eat first or "what did i just say?" sometimes when she fails to listen he becomes rough, gripping her up the forearm and forcing her over his lap for what he calls 'an attitude adjustment'

puppy!reader loves coming up with little pet/nicknames for smoke, her favorite one to call him is pa. it's something about it that makes her get all giddy like, but when she is misbehaving she answers him with "yes sir" or "no sir" not because she has too but because smoke knows when she is annoyed or upset with him.

MEET PIMPCESS . . . she is the definition of a boss. she will tell you how it is regardless of how you feel. glitter, chrome hearts, rhinestones, red bottom heels. she loves monaleo, megan thee stallion, city girls & the og trina. — don't let her tough exterior fool you, she's a lover girl once she finds the one she wants to lock down.

pimpcess!reader grew up being the only girl with 4 brothers. she was the youngest out of all of them. they were in and out of jail throughout her childhood and her mom thought it would be in her best interest to send her down south to the delta to live with her grandmother.

pimpcess!reader when she settled into her grandmothers house she was introduced sammie, pearline and annie which then tricked into her being introduced to the smokestack twins!

pimpcess!reader she clicked with the group instantly, but when it came to stack's girlfriend(s) she had to put them in their place. within a year of her being around, stack's girlfriend at the time thought she could speak to pimpcess any way; wrong.

"who do you think you are, pimpcess?"

the group was at dinner, enjoying each other company. pimpcess was talking quietly to stack who was seated in the middle of her and his girlfriend. "bro please just take the picture, i need it for my insta!" moments later she had stack standing up from his seat and taking pictures.

he sucked his teeth at how the younger girl was posing, bent over biting her pointer finger and a hand on her knee, smch, man you don't need to be doing all dat!" the girl just rolled her eyes at the man and snatched the camera back from him. "omg! perfect!"

once the two got back to the table stack's girlfriend is pissed or so pimpcess was told, she doesn't know nor care as to why! "girl... little ms happy go lucky is not happy with you" pearline whispers, pimpcess just shrugs "what does that have to do with me, exactly?" she looks up from her phone. pearline goes to speak but stacks girlfriend overheard and steps in.

"who do you think you are, pimpcess?!" her voice is almost a scream, the table goes silent in confusion. pimpcess doesn't say anything not until stack's girlfriend gets out of line "i know this bitch hears me talking to her." sammie goes wide eyed, smoke, annie and pearline are sitting in shock and stack tries to step in before it get taken to another level.

⤷ ꜱᴏᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʙꜰ!ꜱᴍᴏᴋᴇ.

Despite your protests, Soon-to-be Boyfriend Smoke continued to shower you with gifts - expensive perfume, designer clothes, jewelry. He'd leave them on your doorstep, or send them to your job, each one. accompanied by a note that read, "Because you deserve better." He'd call you, his voice smooth and deep, asking if you liked the gifts, but never acknowledging the boyfriend who answered your phone.

⤷ ꜱᴏᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʙꜰ!ꜱᴍᴏᴋᴇ.

He'd send you texts, late at night, filled with sweet nothings and promises of more, his disregard for your relationship blatant as the red 'Delivered' notifications on your screen. Yet, you found yourself saving his messages, opening the gifts, and wearing the perfume - a heady mix of vanilla and amber that seemed to whisper his name every time you moved.

⤷ ꜱᴏᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʙꜰ!ꜱᴍᴏᴋᴇ.

Smoke, that wicked man, reveled in the game of cat and mouse, his touches always a fraction too low, his hands lingering a moment too long. He'd hug you, his hand splayed across your back, his fingers dipping dangerously close to your ass. He'd help you reach something, his hands on your waist, pulling you back against him, his breath hot on your neck. Each touch was a taunt, a silent "I can have her anytime I want," a challenge thrown at your boyfriend, daring him to react.

⤷ ꜱᴏᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʙꜰ!ꜱᴍᴏᴋᴇ.

After a heated argument, your boyfriend stormed out, leaving you in tears. It was then that Smoke chose to make his move, appearing at your door like a dark specter. He found you curled up on your boyfriend's side of the bed, your heart aching, your eyes red. He didn't say a word, just climbed onto the bed, his hands gentle as he pulled you into his lap. He kissed your tears away, his touch soothing, his voice a low rumble as he whispered, "He doesn't deserve you, prettygirl. Let me show you what a real man can do."

⤷ ꜱᴏᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʙꜰ!ꜱᴍᴏᴋᴇ.

He laid you back on the bed, his body covering yours, his hands everywhere exploring every inch of you. He took you slowly, his thrusts measured, his touch tender, a stark contrast to the argument that just happened . He made love to you on your boyfriend's side of the bed, his groans of pleasure filling the room, his name on your lips as you found your climax . It was a claiming, a declaration, a fuck you to your boyfriend.

ᴘʟᴀʏʟɪꜱᴛ

ɪɴꜱᴘɪʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ @pimpcessing

stacks busy schedule and her living with a strict father. it felt like everything was working against them. everytime she tried to text him she would be left on delivered or read for days and he will follow up with "i'm sorry, i got busy."

of course she never complained, would only say "thats okay!" because she loved stack so much that the thought of them not being together was worse than what she's putting herself through.

until she ran into stack and his ex in town. days prior she reached out to him asking if he would like to go too the farms market this weekend but of course he told her he was busy.

she saw mary before stack, the other girl was in a pink floral dress that flowed softly with the breeze. she was standing out front of the chows shop. dandelion!reader walked behind her swiftly hoping she goes unnoticed but fate has other plans.

"omg! ♡?" marys voice rang out, surprised to see the younger girl. dandelion turns around softly saying hi, before mary could start up a conversation stack comes out the shop "so they didn't have white lilies-" he stops in his tracks seeing dandelion.

dandelion facial expressions are enough to make stack sick. mary speaks unaware of the situation unfolding in front of her "♡, you should join us for lunch! stack was talking about this-" mary noticing the unwell expression on her face "oh my, you don't look so well are you okay?"

Unbeknownst to most, Phillip Graves is not the worst ex husband in the world.

Not the best, but the man just shy of a B.

Theres not a doubt in his mind that he loved you, he still loves you. But sometimes love can be a little messy, adding a little too much over protectiveness with small hints of jealousy and maybe it just wasn’t the right time.

Co parenting isn’t a issue for him, doesn’t need to be asked twice about doctors visits, or the little graduation ceremony held at the end of the year for your one year old who hasn’t a clue what’s going on at day care. He’s recording the milestones and sending them to you when he’s not deployed, asking to hear the babies voice when he’s is— hell, the man is still paying your bills in the house he left for you and your baby even though you told him not to.

It’s when you bring a new man around, old habits don’t die soon. Phillip Graves doesn’t mind arguments in the parking lot at the meeting place, or sizing up the first guy you tried to bring around wip just couldn’t handle the intimidation from Graves, randomly popping up to your house with the key he still has to see if the ‘cameras still work’ or the ‘drain is clogging right’ just as you’re about to make out with the person you were dating.

The bastard.

Today’s no different, the southern man actually approved of the guy you’re seeing for once. Didn’t put up a fight, had a look in his blue eyes you just couldn’t read. A tension in his shoulders when he picked up your baby for his last couple of days before deploying, ‘oh, this might actually be the end of it.’

But after two months, all he wants to see if you and your kid. Hear the rabbles and babbles of your beautiful child you created while you smile and go through all the pics he’s missed out on. But today is quiet, babies down for a nap, Phillip can hear the rustling of laundry upstairs, the tv low to some show with 7 seasons. You’re pretty when his eyes land on you after making it upstairs, curls in two low ponytails, small hoops in your peircings, plain violet mid sleeve tee shirt that just compliments you so well, jeans that hug every curve on you just the way he likes. Mouth watering.

He gives the open door to your bedroom a knock. “Hey sweetheart.”

You try your bed to smile, but it’s meek, “Hi Graves, welcome back.”

Graves blue eyes wash over you, gh way you keep shifting on your feet, a little drained, “What’s wrong honey? You alright?”

You couldn’t hide it even if you tried, “Me at that guy I was dating broke up.”

He leans against the dresser, turning the volume lower on the tv, he takes it in, nodding, “Huh.” But now the question is, why would anyone on gods given earth want to break up with a prize like you? He feels his jaw lock, “Can you tell me what happened or was it just some bullshit.”

A bit of both.

You sigh, “He couldn’t fathom that I would put our child before him. And when I told him he should rethink it, he tried pinning it on me. That I could leave the baby with you—“ you take a frustrated deep breath out. Putting your energy into folding the pile of clothes on your bed. It shouldn’t be so heavy on your mind- but it’s gnawing at you. Irritated you that someone felt entitled like that, even if you’d only been dating him seriously for 4 months. Phillip would never think like that—

“I bet you’re happy it ended though right?” You try to laugh it off, eyes finally meeting his. And he’s got so much a soft look on his face when he looks at you, but it’s disgruntled, eyebrows knitted together, leaning against the dresser with his arms folded over his chest.

“Why would I ever want you t’be unhappy [+]?” Says it as if it’s a curse. The whole thing below him.

++ on ground coverage by independent media on youtube - unfiltered by samdish, kkcreate

++ compiled google docs so far with a few of the many video proofs below-

I think about mean!Simon not wanting you to leave his place after staying at his place for too so long.

He’s very good at playing house with you, from cooking dinner and you washing dishes, hours spent in his arms and laughing at his corny jokes, trying your best to kick him out the bathroom while you go to the bathroom or do your hair. Your little conversations to yourself as he passes the room you might be in, finding you blasting music and going through photos. Whisky brown eyes glued to your thighs in his shirt that you’re wearing. The man likes the fact that he can come home to you, let you talk his head off or vice versa. Slugger, his dog, is more than happy to have two parents rather than one.

So when it’s time for you to go home— why is that even a thought that crossed you mind?

Simons mid bite of his sandwich when his ears catch the ‘thud’ of one of your duffle bags full of clothes is dropinh to the door.

His eyebrows are knitted together when he sees you coming down the stairs with another duffle, “Tho’ y’were jokin about leavin kitty.”

You bite back a smile, cheeks growing warm, “I can’t stay here forever Si, I gotta wash my clothes!”

“‘Ve got a washer ‘nd dryer.”

“I can’t wear the same clothes for ever! My closet is calling me.”

“Shops callin us then, yeah? Can get ya new clothes.”

You giggle through a groan, “Simon!” 

The rugged man is already pulling you by the waist and into his chest, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. He can’t say it, won’t say the words ‘don’t go’ or ‘I’ll miss you’ formally. But it bleeds through everything so blatantly, you can’t help but let out a chuckle. Rubbing his broad and scared back. Your fingers glide through his blonde locks of hair, scratching his scalp. “Why’re you bein cute, huh? so big ‘n bein cute.“

It’s got his heart pounding so loud, he lets out an incoherent grumble, as to quiet his own heart. Such a baffling yet peculiar feeling that the man has only groan more and more fond of with each passing day with you. Before you can even realize it, you’re being thrown over Simons shoulder that makes you yelp out. Slapping at his back to put you down, which he does, on the couch, not hesitating to lay atop of you and inhale your scent.

“You’re bein a fucking brat Simon, come on!” You giggle, it’s exactly how you ended up staying another week. Simon lifting you off your feet and taking back to bed because, ‘it’s too late to drive at night’ when it was only 6pm, and then in the morning, ‘it’s rainin too much’ when it was only drizzling.

Today’s no different, now, sandwiched between his chest and and the couch, head resting on his bicep. Letting him wrap his strong arms around you, so easily leaning into the soft touch of his calloused fingers at the back of your nape, your eyes closing.

“Is this how you usually treat the other girls around you?” You tease ever so lightly, not even expecting an answer.

He gruffly answers, distinct, “Why would I want anyone else ‘ere but you?”

he knew it wasn’t as good as his mouth, but it worked - and it worked well. so a thought came to him. now, hovering above him with shaky thighs, a seeping cunt, and worry - you watched the pretty man have the same rose in his mouth. his eyes gestured down, and mumbles as his spit came from the conner of his mouth while he tried saying what he wanted, but it came out as mumbled words. you knew what he wanted; and like a good girl complied.

crying out at the buzzing going onto your clit. geto, now satisfied slapped your ass and moved your hips for you. his warm breath fanning on your pussy as the toy buzzed sent a shiver down your spine. and when he began to move you, letting the buzz go through your cunt and the tip of his nose rub against your clit? you all about passed out.

“g-geee-!” you whispered breathlessly letting all the weight you tried to hold up onto him, to which he sighed lovingly. his face wet from your cream, your jucies dripped down your thighs making his white beater damp at the neck line. your hands gripped the headboard, working your hips on your own at this point. you no longer cared about anything but wetting the mans below you face. geto’s cock had already let out cum, still hard and pulsing in the basketball shorts.

the ballerina girl always asked her quiet boyfriend to help her practice. but when she asked she’d never expect him to push her limits in the most pleasant way.

hanging onto the bar railing, your hands held onto the rusted metal tight. she looked in the mirror trying to hold her composure, only letting hard breaths come out. “doin’ so good plum” choso thought this was the perfect way to see how long she could go.

making her hold her arabesque while his curved cock fucked her walls. through the shiny mirror he could see her pussy make a mess against him. her brown lips and pink walls puffy from his large cock. curved tip in her stomach that the skin tight leatard didn’t waste making known. his veiny hands, that had perfect black nail polish pushed into your stomach making you stumble, finally letting out a long - loud moan.

the clock hit 9:00am and your thighs trembled. a low whine came from your lips as you worked your fingers faster in your cunt throwing your head back. “tic tok doll” the man who sat in front of you was impatient, very impatient. it had been a little too long from the time he got out of his expensive bed, till now - when he absolutely needed his dark coffee with the special creamer only you could give him. the coffee steam blew against your cunt, your heels imprinted into the oak wood desk, on some sort of important document that your mind couldn’t care to see what it was.

your juices dripped into the ‘best boss’ coffee mug, your pussy clenching around your fingers as you bit your lip staring at him with a blurry vision. “you know i don’t like to wait” he said, then stood to his full height. it all happened so quick. from the moment you were working into yourself, to when he gently removed your fingers and entered his own. the coolness of his rings making you tilt forward into his chest, but he made sure that your pussy was right above the hot coffee. “thata girl” he kissed your forehead, fucking his fingers faster and using the pad of his thumb to rub your clit. the clock was now 9:05am, and your boss licked his lips, mouth watering in anticipation for his coffee.

with a gasp and hands tightening around his suits vest your creamy essences dripped into the cup making a little splatter on some of the paperwork. “little more sweetheart” your cried into his chest as he pumped you one hard time make a large amount of cream drip out of you. by 9:10am, you were back being a secretary, and your boss walked around the office with his coffee as if it wasn’t a dirty secret behind it.

synopsis ˚ෆ 𐙚 : short stories for some of your favorite Jujutsu kaisen men + Eren Yeager, with their bimbo lover at the gym

tags ˚ෆ 𐙚 : black chubby reader! bimbo reader! oral ( f and m ), backshots, sideways sex, ab riding. lots of cum, and pet name. won’t lie eren’s part is really miren and was for me sooo

mirah note! ˚ෆ 𐙚 : i deleted this and i’m not sure whyyy … so it’s a repost 🤗

✧.* Geto And Gojo - Planks !

like everything— the two boyfies found the gym and you as a competition. you were quite used to this actually, loving how competitive they got and how it was always a win for yourself!so, when they brought you down to the at home gym— telling you to lay on the pretty pink blanket and open your mouth, your little brain couldn’t process what was gonna happen. but you were sooo excited! “princess. me and gojo are gonna see who can do the longest plank while you suck our cocks, okay?” geto talked to you slowly, dumbing down his words so you could understand.

replying to his words with a big smile and glassy eyes. he knew— as always that you were one hundred percent on board. “who’s first, daddy?” the men looked between one another— gojo’s tight gym shorts falling to the ground as he got into position. geto crouched beside you both, watching his twink already have some effect just from your breath blowing over his cock. pressing start going sunk down into your throat, you automatically start gagging around him. your throat contracting against his tip with pre-cum coming out.

they would leave everyone in the room thinking of how absolutely dominating they are. how they would fuck whoever - deep into the mattress showing the sub who’s the actual boss. but what’s so interesting about these men is that their far from .. “being the boss”. their eager. eager to please, to follow orders, to be a good little boys.

“mmm t-that’s right princy” leaning their head back against the back of the couch, you straddle him. suffocating every breathing point he had with your pussy and ass. you shook, giving him the dance he begged for while also pleasing yourself. his tongue licked and poked all over your pussy wanting to taste a reward that he had been thinking about in all of his stressful, time consuming meetings.

just as he felt that the peak of the delicious cream was near. you got up giggleing at the whine and pouty lips he showcased while heaving in air to his burning lungs. “n-no ! get back he-“ he stopped as soon as your gave him that eye. the warning that if he continued to disobey your authority, he was in for a long edge filled night.

you walked over to his naked, beautiful, body throwing your legs over his muscular thighs and large cock that was always standing proudly. you could only think of what people would say to this image. the playboy billionaire finding himself immersed with the local stripper that almost every night, begs to stuff her cunt with his heir.

“open” he did exactly that, opening the pretty mouth with the million dollar teeth. sliding down onto his cock, you let a large droplet of your saliva fall into his mouth. you held in every whine and moan you wanted to release enjoying how even with a scrunched face, and eyes rolling to the back of his head. he kept his mouth open. letting the chocked moans escape echoing out in the led lit vip room.

“thata boy” you rewarded, closing his mouth and kissing his perfect lips rocking your body at a slow pace so he could feel just exactly how he makes you feel. how wet, and needy he gets your cunt. “f-faster — p-please” instead of being rude and correcting him, you began to bounce. the wet noises of his cock fucking into you deep. along with your combination of moans and dirty talk, telling him how only you could see him this way. how he was only every this slutty for you.

that he was the only one that could get you to cum so much in so little time - which was true. the poor man pleaded on the verge of cumming, and salty tears rolling down his model like cheeks, to suck the pretty brown nipples that were hard from the crisp air. and once again you listened, letting his pink lips wrap around you and suck as if milk was gonna come- that led you both to a loud, long orgasm. and an hour of comforting the big, bad boss.

he loves your stomach. this is for my chubby girls! but specifically, chubby black women <3

he absolutely adored everything about you. from the top of your head, to the tip of your toes. but what he loves most was your stomach. the softness, how warm it was and pretty. your little pudge he would call it even tho it was far from little, he always found himself gripping the extra meat whenever he was sleepy, or anxious. but most of all when he would fuck into you.

“p-pretty baby, daddy loves you” he would whisper into your ear looking at you through the mirror. he large veiny hand gripping and tugging at your stomach, making him go faster because honestly, it turned him on.

he always would be messy when his hand found it’s way to gripping you fullness. always filled your hole with more cum than he ever has before, whimpering like a bitch in heat and growing hard from the deep heavy breaths you would take. “j-just one more. t-then m’done”

let’s not forget about the nights where your legs would lay mindlessly over his shoulders while his face was shoved into your tummy. licks, bites, sniffs. he did it all falling into a deep space of comfortability just from the the squishy-ness. without realizing, he would move down from your belly, to your thick thighs. kissing and sucking, leaving hickeys over your stretched mark skin and licking up the slit of your pussy, spitting out a glob that had your toes curling and nails gripping his hair.

your naked body shook from the cool air. he layed below you with only his shirt off, his nipples were hard, the jewelry glistening from the morning sun light. “you like it baby doll?”

whining, you rutted your hips harder pushing your pussy more into his six pack. the build up wetness that made a mess on him aloud you to move easier, his hands moved around your body, skimming through your handles, to your gut squeezing it, he flexed his body making your clit go sensitive

“ohgod!” throwing your head back your bonnet fell off landing on the white comforter, nails dinging into the sides of his chest. “you got this mama” his thumbs circles your nipples pushing on them “so close hm?”

“i - i can’t” “you can, now!” his words got aggressive setting you off the edge, your juices dripping out of your hole making a puddle on him that dropped off onto the sheets.

Tw: fem reader! Pregnancy fluff?, toxicity, Cynix being an asshole,

——-/———/———/————

If Cynix did get you pregnant it would up fears, namely abandonment, rejection, and self hate. All those feelings which his mother gave him would be amplified.

The Incel would be paranoid over your whereabouts, would you try to dessert him and his kid down the road? Would you find the thought of bearing his spawn to be disgusting due to his Dullahan features? All those fears would creep in on him for a brief period of time. Before he realized that this was a golden chance to make sure you knew that your place as his baby momma.

One fateful morning you woke up with fancy marker scribbles upon your belly stating “Cynix was here, bitch tf you looking at?” You only noticed when one of your friends pointed it out to you in the restroom. Since you were wearing an outfit which exposed your midriff as it was hot outside.

“Cynixxxxxx ouuuh I’m gonna punt kick your decapitated head across the football field if you keep playing with me…”

You cursed aloud, utterly embarrassed at parading outside with such branding. Couldn’t it have been any less cruder? He couldn’t have the decency to write a cute message like “Baby on board” or something of that nature? That would explain why people quickly averted their eyes once they glanced at your baby bump. Normally you’d have a couple stray wanderers come up to you and try to touch or ask about your pregnancy.

And here you thought the random strangers were just being polite and keeping it respectful.

But no it was your baby daddy acting like a fool. And little did you know that he had stowed away his head inside that huge purse of yours. The same brand of which those grandmas would take to church.

The Incel would be as smug as a motherfucker (heh get it?) , having no regrets even if you did try to follow through on your threats. He’d have a foul smirk on his features muttering a small

Tutoring times with Cynix.

Cw: Fem reader! Suggestive!

—-/———-/————-

“You piss me off with how fucking cute you look when you’re being so stupid… Am I Moronsexual?”

Cynix muttered to himself, he had you holding his head nestled underneath your boobs. He likes feeling the weight of them, meanwhile his body had you situated in his lap. One of his hands were roaming underneath your shirt squeezing at your tit. While the other was cupping the warmth in between your thighs.

“Hey you dumb bimbo, gimmie that damn pencil so I can show ya how it’s done. I know you have the attention span of a goldfish, but keep your eyes on me got it?”

The Dullahan grumbled, taking the pen into his mouth. His transparent dark miasma like smoke coming from his neck. Took his head from you guiding him over the papers. Where he’d meticulously leave notes on what you did wrong and showing you step by step the process in which you’d arrive at the correct answer.

I would try to convince him to play cozy games with me (stardew, Minecraft)

Tw: fem reader x yan! Incel, fluff, mentions of degradation, obsessive/possessive behavior, paranoia, minecraft, streaming,

______\__________\

“That’s so Lame, leave up to a woman to like some boring games” he’d scoff, waving you off as he continues to do a setup for his streams.

A few days later…

After running one of his errands you noticed his bedroom door that was opened with a small crack. Which was odd since he usually kept it wide open to keep tabs on your arrival. He does have a tendency to get paranoid whenever you left for long.

Which led you to having to be timed by the loud ass timer, he set in the kitchen. If it goes off and you’re not home, he’d be hauling ass to snatch you up and punish you for making by him wait.

But you fortunately made it on time with minutes to spare and made sure to turn it off. Before stepping near his domicile, and cracking open the door to hear the melodic sound of Minecraft in the background.

“Alright chat, day 3 of makin a mansion for me and my slut how’s it lookin?” You’d see him surrounded by energy drinks, hunched over as if he worked an office box job.

You didn’t make your presence known, and sneakily tiptoed closer to take a look at this so called mansion— My god it was as if a principle architect and top engineer was combined into one godly mixture.

To produce a billion dollar masterpiece of a block by block marble-like mansion. Fit to be incorporated into a painting and showcased in a fine arts exhibit.