bleh i really shouldve done this sooner,, i love to be silent abt. things but i gotta confront the world eventually!!
call me ink! it's a hell of a lot easier than typing out my full user
this is a kink blog first and foremost, dedicated entirely to my indulgent self-exploration!!! my kink interests are as follow:
stomach noises (THE BREADWINNER!)
hunger (also derivative category of above; personal favorite)
teasing. (i love this.)
digestion / a liiiittle bit of upset tum
and more tbd...
huge fan of tummykink as a whole ^^ i'm still figuring stuff out, so i'll let y'all know if something doesn't fly! i've got a list of my personal no-gos below too:
scat
emeto
eprocto
non-oral vore
and more to come....
i'll probably be lingering around here and there. i do write, so tummykink fics are a possibility,,. im just not sure if i want to introduce that juuuuust yet
im also kinda into roleplay >:) hehehehe
my dms are open for fellow tummykink enjoyers to Freak The Fuck Out!!!! ofc i might not always be in the mood; i'll let you know!
hello fellow 🌼 man fans! I come bearing gifts! read the tags for an idea of what's under the cut :) hope yall enjoy!
~~~
“The second diner,” Flow.ery presented with a grandiose wave of his arm. Gre.en waved from their place behind the counter, and he saluted his greetings in return. “This brings back memories! It’s like we never left, oldbuddy.”
Asg.ore released a heavy sigh, which Flow.ery chose to believe was because of his overflowing nostalgia for the diner. “Flow.ery, we were just here a bit ago,” he huffed, a finger scratching idly at his temple. Oh well. A flower could dream.
“It’s only our fourth visit together! C’mon, you haven’t even gotten to try Gre.en’s cheese yet!”
Gre.en tilted their head at Flow.ery. Was that pity in their eyes? That wouldn’t do; they should really be more proud of that cheese. He guided Asg.ore into his favorite booth, gliding just above the floor, Asg.ore’s paw in both of his hands. He held up his hand to offer a sturdy high five afterward, but it was never received. Asg.ore had his eyes fixed on the window, at one of the setting suns. His serious visage was ultimately softened by the romantic glow of the scenery. There was the Gor.ey he was looking for. The shadows of the corners of the castle really did not do anything to get his good side. Flow.ery recovered from being left hanging by running his hand through his hair.
“So. What’s a cheese without an omlette? Whaddya think?” he suggested, reasserting the chill vibe back into the atmosphere.
“That… sounds nice,” Asg.ore replied softly.
“You heard our King, Gre.en! Eggs, over extra cheesy.” He paused for a moment. “And the usual for me. Can’t beat the usual.”
Gre.en nodded and exited through the paper door, presumably to the cafe just downstairs to make the omelette and the usual. They returned within a few seconds, because they were just that good at what they did. Along with the extra cheesy omelette, which had a mini slice of cheese atop of it as an indication of its cheesy contents, Gre.en had brought a few baked goods for Asg.ore to try. Lastly, they slid Flow.ery’s usual to him, which he caught in an effortlessly cool way. A butterscotch cinnamon milkshake, featuring a generous amount of butterscotch drizzled along the insides of the glass. A light dusting of cinnamon accompanied the wafer that was planted on top of the picture-perfect mountain of whipped cream. If anything tasted like how home was supposed to taste, Flow.ery was pretty sure this was it.
“Wow, Gre.en! All of this looks petalicious!” Flow.ery praised. Gre.en clasped their hands together in thanks, glancing towards Asg.ore. “And you brought some new treats for Gore-Gore to try? Awesomes. What do you say, my King? Shall we dig in?”
Asg.ore spared a glance to Gre.en, who gave him a warm, hopeful smile. The mountain of his shoulders dropped as he lost tension. “This all looks lovely, Gre.en. I suppose I can spare just a few moments,” he allowed, although still sounding hesitant. Gre.en beamed ecstatically as Asg.ore carefully handled one of their pastries with his claws.
Flow.ery gave his straw a twirl as he watched. He was ready and willing to hype up Gre.en as much as he could, but he was becoming more and more hesitant to the idea of drinking the milkshake. He had upped his guts stats to the highest they would go, so why was he having a problem?
“This is all very nice, but I need to get back to my investigation, Flow.ery,” Asg.ore asserted. His dark tone did not match the politeness of the words he was saying.
Flow.ery snapped out of his thoughts and refocused on the scene in front of him. At some point, he had vaguely processed Asg.ore thanking Gre.en and dismissing them. A few bites had been taken out of the omelette, and a pastry was missing from the small tray.
“But you’ve barely touched your food, oldbuddy,” Flow.ery protested.
“Help yourself,” Asg.ore replied dismissively, armor clanking against the table as he began to sidle out of the booth.
Flowery tried not to stutter, or sound too much like he was begging on his knees. “That’s all fern! We can get Gre.en to pack this up in a to-go box for you to snack on later.”
His suggestion fell on deaf ears. Asg.ore ignored him as he left the second dinner. This left Flow.ery with his untouched drink, a full king-sized omelette, and a couple of Gre.en’s finest sweets.
He took a sip of the drink with a dejected “here I come San Frandiscoooo.” At this point, he needed the pick-me up. His already tight belt complained otherwise.
Typically, flowers did not eat food in the way that humans did.
But now that they had finally become humans as they dreamed to, they could! And boy, did humans sure need to eat a lot. Asg.ore was not a human, and he didn’t eat particularly much as of recent years, but Flow.ery knew better from their good old days at college that the man had an appetite befitting of a king. It was something he frequently pitied from his display case, his viewing window of sorts to Asgore’s suffering. The poor man didn’t have much money to get by, much less the energy to make himself consistent meals. Yet, as a heavily-doted-on flower, he did not feel hunger once under Asg.ore’s care. Honestly, he thought it unfortunate! If he could experience even a fraction of what Asg.ore had to endure every day, he could empathize with him even more. In his dreams, one day, he could sit down with Asg.ore in a diner (just like the one he sat in now), share his cravings for whatever tickled his king’s fancy and indulge.
Yet, the lamplight, the water, and the perfectly balanced mix of soil was enough for all of them for most of the flowers’ lives. He never once felt weak or deprived under Asg.ore’s care.
As luck would have it, things had finally changed! He had a mouth, a tongue, and an abdomen with enough space to fit a whole digestive system! And the ideal diner was right there on their land, and in their castle, and frankly wherever Gre.en decided would be a good place to set up shop. Being hungry? That’s so human!
Which circled back around to the whole “needing to eat a lot” thing. Originally, he had found out quickly that he had the metabolism of a flower. Photosynthesis was a quick process, and he was doing it plenty to keep himself blitzing around the dark world in a rainbow blur. He wouldn’t admit it to the others, but he related to Ora.nge’s constant complaints. He burned energy faster than a dandelion lost its fluff. So he didn’t think much of his diner snack breaks with Asg.ore- until now.
Maybe all of that food was catching up with the more dar.kner part of his anatomy. Man, how needlessly confusing. He was supposed to be human, after all. The ligh.tners didn’t even get full off of dark world food.
Despite all of his retrospection on what led him to this state, Flow.ery had continued idly nursing his drink. An odd churning from his middle got him to stop suckling it up for a second. He looked down to see half of the glass empty. A little further down, and he could see the source of the subtle aching discomfort that was coming onto him.
His vest buttons were straining to stay fastened, the fabric tugging in the direction his stomach had begun to bloat outwards. He grimaced nervously as he looked at what he had done to himself. Experimentally, he slipped one of his hands in between the buttons. Upon feeling the firmness of his stomach, and the bubbling of everything he’d consumed in the short time this world even existed, he felt himself flush. Flow.ery gave the second diner a quick once over. No one was around…
With quick hands, he unbuttoned his vest and let it open, the fabric falling at his sides and giving him more room to breathe. An involuntary sigh of relief escaped Flow.ery, his hand running gently down the side of his bloat to his waistband. He loosened his belt by just a few notches, and it was almost like all of that vaguely ill-feeling pressure dissipated. He sighed again, one hand resting on the crest of his full stomach, while the other was propped up to hold his face as he leaned forward to look out the window. “Gor.ey, you’re missing out,” he muttered contentedly.
He looked over Asg.ore’s food. It was a shame he’d left it there. Gre.en would be disappointed that he didn’t eat much of it. Just like the rest of his fellow flowers, he feared Gre.en’s disappointment almost as much as he feared Asg.ore’s rejection.
Maybe he could finish it off before they got back? Just to ease their mind and let them know their food had been thoroughly enjoyed! It was nothing a flower like him couldn’t handle!
He plucked one of the pastries off the tray first. A lemon tart in the shape of a flower, with the golden filling making up the center. It was crisp, zesty, and a good palette cleanser.
Next, he picked up Asg.ore’s fork, and carefully slid the plate housing the omelette to face him. It was positively oozing cheesy goodness from where his king had left off. As he drew the fork towards him, the cheese seemed to stretch infinitely onwards. He began to spool it around the fork, but once it started to become clear that the cheese was too good to stop stretching, he slid the fork into his mouth and began to work on slurping it up.
He had to hand it to Gre.en, they had a great style of diner food going for them. He thought about all of the love and care that went into the food with every bite he took. Even as he neared a limit he was pretty confident he didn’t have, he kept going until the fluffy egg began to feel like mud in his mouth. He took frequent sips of his milkshake until its creamy goodness began to cloud his mind.
Flow.ery gingerly pushed away the rest of the food in front of him, already feeling apologetic that he had to call it quits. While he usually felt as light as a petal, he felt weighed down in his seat. He pressed a hand to his stomach, only to be met with a newfound tenderness. Pressing too hard against the middle buttons of his shirt stirred a nauseous feeling that quickly became overwhelming, so he returned to gently soothing his stomach.
His stomach, which was maxed out, just like the rest of him. He chuckled at the thought, which jostled the contents packed tightly inside of him. The movement caused something to bubble up inside him, moving fast up his throat.
It was too quick, even for him. The burp that came out was loud, brassy, and not very befitting of a flower. He smacked his hand hard over his mouth after it left him significantly less sick feeling than before. If it were still their college days, that probably would’ve impressed Asg.ore. Heck, maybe it could still impress him. Maybe he should-
Just then, the door to the second diner slid open.
Startled out of his satisfied stupor, Flow.ery threw his jacket over his side to cover up his current state before whipping his head around to see who had entered. He made sure to flip his hair for a little extra sparkle. Gre.en greeted him with a smile as they approached. They raised an eyebrow at the remains of Asg.ore’s discarded meal before him.
“Hey boys! Green!” Flow.ery managed, stifling a second rising belch into his fist. “How’s it hanging?”
Gre.en motioned to the second half of the omelette quizzically.
“Oh, that. Asg.ore wanted me to let you know that he thought it was flowerific!- But he had to get going.”
Gre.en reached into their coat and pulled out a takeout box. Flow.ery felt a bit of guilt pool in his gut, mixing in with everything else he’d crammed in there.
“Sorry about the guy- I tried to let him know. If you just leaf that with me, I’ll take it up to him in a jiff!” he said, dancing around the actual matter at hand. Maybe he wouldn’t make it in a “jiff,” but he’d make it eventually.
Handing over the box to Flow.ery, Gre.en nodded, looking downcast, but understanding. They pointed to his mostlys-empty milkshake glass. Just thinking about drinking it again made his stomach gurgle uncomfortably.
“Tasted just like home! Just as perfect as the first time way back when in the first diner,” Flow.ery smiled. Gre.en shook their head, a smile of their own playing back onto their face. “No? What do you mean?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow in an attempt to mask his growing nervousness.
Gre.en pulled out a sign that read “Second diner, fourth milkshake.” They pointed to the sign, then to his jacket.
Oh gosh. They knew.
“Aw, Gre.en, buddy,” he began, trying to wave it off. “Try my flavor! I just can’t get enough of that nectar sweet goodness! Nothing I can’t handle,” Flow.ery finished. For good measure, he brought his free hand up in his signature salute, to show Gre.en everything was just fine and dandy.
Gre.en shrugged, their smile still all-knowing, and strangely sympathetic. Instead of calling Flow.ery out on his bluff, they began to fork the leftovers into the box themself. The action in itself was enough to bruise his pride. At the very least, he was thankful he was being spared any jabs at his questionable milkshake consumption choices.
Once Gre.en had finished scooping the rest of the cheese into the box, Flow.ery cleared his throat. “I should be off. I’d be sorry to keep our King in waiting any longer. Thank you again, Gre.en. Keep up the good work!” Carefully, as to not disturb the angle his jacket was covering him at, Flow.ery slowly scooted out of the booth, takeout box in hand.
Gre.en pointed to the bit of his milkshake that he’d abandoned as he approached the door. He shook his head a bit too quickly. “No, no, no, You can give that to any willing customers downstairs. I’m sure there are a few willing Floradinns ready to suckle it up,” he suggested with a wink, before finally escaping out the door and sliding it shut behind him.
Phew, that was a close one. Flow.ery let his jacket fall into the crook of his arm, revealing his unfastened clothing and evidence of his good eats. He’d leave the box at Asg.ore’s door, then sneak off for a quick nap in the fields. That way, he’d have enough energy to keep chasing his dreams again.
I think it'd be amazing to sit down with you to eat a big meal, but I have to wait for permission to start. You tuck in, and I'm waiting for you to say I can eat. But you don't, and we leave the table with my plate still full. Then the next day, the plate is still there, and I wait for permission to eat my breakfast with you. Again, nothing. And for the next 3 days, those plates of food that I have to sit and stare at every meal time pile up. By day 4 I'm all but crying from hunger, being tortured and looking at all the food that I SHOULD have put into my stomach, and haven't been allowed to. You'd see the sheer restraint it takes for me to not lunge at days old, cold stale food, a piping hot plate fresh in front of me, getting to hear my stomach getting louder and louder, always going nuts sat staring at food three times a day. Maybe I'm even made to wear a crop top, so you can see what was once a decently fed tummy getting skinner with every contracting rumble.
anon, you somehow managed to read my mind. i swear i’ve had fantasies JUST LIKE THIS. please put your tongue in my mouth
i’d get you a tight crop top, watching it get looser and looser with every skipped meal. i’d be asking things like “come on, why won’t you eat?” and “do you not like it? i know you’re hungry, your tummy is rumbling…” knowing damn well why you can’t eat.
after i finish yet another big meal, watching you go unfed, i’d tell you to clean my plate. “i’m just too tired to do the dishes,” i’d whine. you’d sigh and take my plate, your tummy cramping as you wish you could have eaten too.
as you do the dishes, your exposed belly groans and twists ravenously. you put your hand on it, feeling your gut shake with every roar. “i’m so hungry…” you whisper to yourself. you open the pantry to hopefully sneak just a tiny snack, until you hear me. “what’re you doing, love?” i’d ask innocently. you give up, accepting you’re not going to be fed today.
i need fat friends who will make fun of me for not also being huge like them. who will shove their guts in my face and brag about how well fed they are in comparison. who will gorge themselves and pretend i'm not beet red imagining the carnage churning inside of their greedy stomachs and wishing it was me. who will take pity on me for being a weird little pervert and let me do all the weird little things i like.
I'll be writing stuff and my immediate first thought is Ok, so where and how can i put a stomach growl in the scene? How do i give them a reason to be starving and then food afterwards? How do i make it a good combination of cutely romantic but also sexy? Like where they say sexy things like "Ugh, I'm pretty damn starved right now, we have anything to eat?"
How can i write this in 8 million different ways? How do you come up with new material like this?
Can i put the stomach growling here? I'll put it here, good luck everybody else!!!
How do i write hunger kink stuff in more unique ways? I like starving to stuffed usually, that's my typical go to. It's just peak, character finally gets a break and a full belly plus a place to sleep afterwards, GOOD SHIT...
There’s something about being hungry while asleep that makes the neurons in my brain go BRRRRRR-
A person lying comfortable in their bed, snoozing the day away, when their stomach lets out a hollow empty groan.
*GrrrruuUUUUOOOOOOOORRRrrrroooo*
They stir in their sleep, brows furrowed as they felt the familiar ache of hunger.
*gwwrrRRROOOOUURRRrrrooo*
Tossing and turning in bed, they place a hand on their aching middle as it let out another growl. Rubbing and massage it in an attempt to get it to calm down. God, they’re so hungry, but they’re too sleepy to get up and make themselves a snack.
Yet… they also want to just stay in bed and continue hearing their stomach let out it desperate cries and howls for food.
