#RP-Ask upset stomach
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Onion Rings RP reaponse. I'd provide the kneading-hands on your upset tummy. Definitely a "hurt it" kind of kneading too. Firm, deep kneads. I'd use my knuckles a lot, pressing deep and dragging 'em like a baker does when they wanna drag the dough against the counter. Also can't forget the "punch down" action ^^ the bloated dome gets the fist. I'm going to cause that tummy ache to bloom and enjoy your tum's grumbles and making you moan and whine and maybe burp, or more likely vomit.
This gem has been sitting in my inbox since 2021. I'm so sorry to the person that sent this because this ask is gold and I've written and scrapped over a dozen responses to it because none of them felt quite right. All the onion rings puns in this ask kind of derailed me so many times and I love them. I wonder of the “bloom” one is in reference to a “bloomin' onion”--a form of “onion ring”/deep fried onion? Whether that was intentional or not, it was perfect and has made me smile countless times since I received this ask. Thank you!
Response to this post.
I whine as yet another potential sickly belch is denied to me. My tummy grumbles unhappily, continuing to inflate with the sickly gas being produced by the greasy, messy digestion of my unhealthy snack. The drive-thru you stopped by in the way home got your order wrong and gave you onion rings instead of the fries you had asked for. Unfortunately for you, you didn't check the bag before driving home and once back home you weren't going to leave over some fries. Luckily for me, I love onion rings...or at least, I did. I love the idea of onion rings—when they're outside of me and about to be consumed. Once they're conspiring to give me a nasty, greasy case of indigestion I like them a lot less.
That's what brings us to this moment. You scarfed your burger and pawned off the onion rings and half of your Mountain Dew to me in favour of hopping into the shower. I ate the side of onion rings and downed the Dew before it had a chance to go flat. The sickly green colour of the Dew should have been warning enough not to drink it. My poor tummy feels volatile, like it's filled with radioactive sludge rather than the greasy, carbonated mess it's churning around.
“My my, what's this?”
I almost jump out of my skin at your voice in my ear. You rest your chin on my shoulder, hands sliding under my shirt to palm at my rapidly bloating belly.
“Nnngh...oww...t-tummy's...j-just a bit upset.” I murmur, still struggling to try and expel some of the gas festering in my poor belly.
You dig your palm into my gut above my navel, dragging it slowly and firmly to the left with your fingers curled to make a bit of a fist. The bumps of your knuckles knead deeply into my upset gut.
“Oh! Oooh....nnnngh...*urp*” I startle at the sudden pressure of your palm on the centre of my gut and can't help but moan at the dragging kneading.
You continue this motion, altering hands and falling into a steady rhythm. It hurts, but with each 'punch' to the centre of my belly I get the opportunity to let out a pitifully small belch. It's not much, but I can only hope that it's gradually reducing the pressure in my achy belly. The carbonation in the Dew and the greasy onion rings were conspiring to wreck my sensitive belly. Already, the stretch from my stomach bloating up with the products of indigestion is pretty uncomfortable.
We stay in that position for a few minutes. Your kneading massage gradually slows. The thudding impact of your palm starting in the centre of my belly stops, replaced by both of your hands cupping at the sides of my bloated belly and squeezing. I've got a relatively trim tummy, but the indigestion and uncomfortable bloating has caused it to dome slightly. I'd think it was cute in a miniature-basketball sort of way if it didn't come with feeling so utterly sick to my stomach.
“Nnnngh...s-so upset...oooh...h-hurts!” I groan and whine, squirming in your hold as you torment my belly. My mutterings end in a frantic exclamation as I twist in your hold. Your hands had found a particularly sore spot in my belly and kneaded firmly. “Ooof...oww...s-sorry...oww...nnngh...it really, really hurts right now. C'n...C'n we slow down a bit? G-Gentle? Oooh...m-my tummy *really, really hurts!”
You grin at my protests, arms coming back to loop around my waist as you guide us to the couch. The tea I'd been in the process of making sits, forgotten, on the counter. Pity, I'd been preparing it in hopes that it'd settle my stomach. It's an intentional move on your part. Settling my stomach will come, eventually. Throughout your shower, thoughts of a stomach ache in full bloom went through your head. You didn't dare to hope that the small side of onion rings and half a drink would create issues in my tummy, but upon stepping out to the sight of me pressing my tummy into the counter sealed it for you. The indigestion will quell, eventually, it'll run it's course probably quicker than it would if left untouched—a byproduct of getting to manhandle my guts to your heart's desire and see the limits of 'tummy ache' that you can inflict on it.
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Hey guys!
Before you interact with this blog, I ask that you read this post!
Here, I'll be posting ramblings about my tummy at all it's highs and lows. I would love love love to do the same for you! If you are over the age of 18. Due to the general nature of this community, wether it is sexual or not (and i would prefer to keep the sexual nature of this topic relativley low on this blog) for you doesn't matter. Keep yourself safe by staying away.
Adults, feel free to send in all of your stomach stories! Wether they be yours, someone else's, real or fantasy. Just make sure to let me know what it is!
This blog will be mainly run based on audience engagement. So send in those stories!
General Info About Me
I love most things tummy ache related! I love the look, the gurgles and whatever comes out as a result of the pain.
I am relatively new to the community and would love to start participating in it!
Boundaries and Rules
I am an asexual female who is into kink. I respectfully ask that you refrain from sexualising me (or anyone who doesn't EXPLICITLY CONSENT) or asking me to engage in overtly sexual conversations.
I ask that you do not ask me to do things and that you refrain from telling me things you would want to do to me or my belly.
Do NOT private message me or ask me for requests. You will be blocked. I am not open for RP.
DO NOT ask me for belly pictures or sounds. I likely will not provide them. Feel free to send in your own, as long as no genetials or nipples (men, that goes for you too) are present.
If someone on this blog, me or otherwise sets a boundary. Respect it. Disrespect and crossing boundaries WILL NOT Be tolerated.
Any content involving minors WILL be reported and result in a block. If you are a minor STAY AWAY! This is NOT a space for you!
I am Into, and Okay With
- Stomach aches
- Self Induced Stomach Aches
- Eating to the point of Sickness
-Bloating
- Stomach Sounds
- Diarrhea when in context of stomach pain
-Vomit
-Female Tummies
-Public upset tummy episodes
-Female Moaning
-Rubbing tight tummies
I am NOT Into
-ANYTHING involving pregnancy (Mpreg or otherwise)
-Diaper Stuff
-Scat photos
-Gaining
-Exessive gas (from either end)
-Getting sick on somebody
-Stomach aches solely in relation to kink
-Eating Disorders of ANY KIND
-Hunger
-Self harm
-Vore
All that being said
I hope that this blog can be a comfortable place for everyone. To ensure this, follow the rules and be respectful. Thanks guys!
#stuffed stomach#belly gurgles#tummy noises#diarrhea#puke#bubble guts#vomiting#belly noises#ate too much#stomach ache#belly ache#bloated stomach#stomach growling#tummy ache#audience participation#story#storytelling#story time#sharing
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SHIPPING INFO. Answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog.
What’s your OTP for your muse(s)?
....there's a lot, and the most 'realized' of them atm is trainer Felix x Volo, although admittedly no OTPs are 'active' right now brainwise I've been slowly rotating Zivan and Felix, or Rex and Felix, but those are more vague sexual ideas rather than details;
What are you willing to RP when it comes to shipping?
Most everything, but my writing boundaries are more mun-based; I will not ship/write with you if you constantly churn out single sentence or generic replies-
I am not a fetish or smut/etc. machine that you can just put coins in to redeem. also, I don't care if your muse is shy or a bottom or whatever- you need to learn how to write descriptively to make up for that.
They need to be a good victim, or else it's not fun, and you're making me write a glorified fic in that case. Try to match my energy here.
Unrelatedly, I don't RP on huge image, generic 'open to all' starters; it just feels too close to 'bullshitting on stolen* fanart' than writing a story.
and lastly, I don't write super upsetting topics of active noncon for the benefit of everyone; writing it respectfully or realistically sounds like more work than it's worth. Theoretically possible, and I have a strong stomach, but nah. As for sexual myths, I'm just tired of seeing them and the misinfo pisses me off; not the person writing tho, so I'll ask you to edit your reply with more correct info.
How large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable?
American School range, I suppose? As in, middle school with middle schoolers, high schoolers with high schoolers; 4 years at most. Case by case, as we all know that a lot of growing happens at those ages. (tbh in different countries w/ different school gaps, I'd follow those instead.) However, Kids are not usually the best at relationships IRL, so shit happens and I'm not actually super into 'toy shipping' as it's called, unless it's pretty wholesome. If it's adorable and interaction is reasonable, I'll find it cute. If not, meh.
As far as adults go though, I don't mind age gaps. Lots of teenagers get antsy waiting for the big 18, so are mentally prepared on purpose for the big leap- but just lack experience, which can happen at any age. (especially when sheltered/spoiled.) Relationship problems have all to do with cooperation and situation anyways- things like chores, financial situation, boundaries... I do personally prefer a slow-burn with 18 year olds dating anyone too much older, with small room for exception if they're exceptionally bold and/or responsible. (read: slow burn would feel undoubtedly ooc for them. But my older muses will not take the lead here, so to speak.) That's more about not being a creep than ability to consent.
Are you selective when shipping?
a smidge. I've rejected ships before based on excessive teasing because my muse really wasn't into it, as a pretty serious/stoic/smartass/dominant character that doesn't like to be thrown around playfully.
I think I need to be asked/told that you want to ship if our muses don't have chemistry, that way I can plot some instead. I'm a very 'my muses drive themselves' unless asked otherwise.
But I'm not here to play games, though. If you're a no ship blog, or the character is no ship, the intent is not there, regardless of IC feelings; I'm expecting IC rejection in that case, it's this magical thing called a 'crush'. On a similar note, I'm not comfortable with muse creation biases; If you 'don't ship with OCs/Self Inserts/trans' or any blanket statement, you're starting to make assumptions that will piss me off, and you don't get other ships. I don't follow people with rules like this, so springing it on me during discussion isn't welcome, either.
How far do steamy moments have to go before they’re considered NSFW?
I usually cut it as actual sex acts, and depiction of arousal; that moment when making out devolves into explicitly wanting sex. Suggestive tags usually lie on the border for me; things that people joke about or are allowed on radio/tv.
Does one have to ask to ship with you?
I prefer it, but technically no. If our muses have chemistry and the question pops naturally in replies, I'll count it and likely double-check ooc.
But, y'know, old habits die hard and I have the reflex as a self insert player to always ask first and be clear, if it's coming from my side. I usually let crushes and sexual desire bother my muses while they figure out the logistics of actually acting on them and asking.
I'm delighted if I'm asked before the fact and happy to help, however! Because that's both consent and a prompt/challenge; how to make em get together and like each other/etc.? These ideas sound cute to me.
How often do you like to ship?
it's my comfort zone, but let's be real, I'd interact with my entire dash if i had the time and muse. platonic or otherwise. I theoretically don't give a shit if i ship or not, but will fall into shipping content if i'm feeling lazy. Because I've written it a lot before. comphet i guess???
Are you multiship?
Yes, in the sense that I'm not playing with the whole 'jealous rp partners' thing; I'm poly IRL and not interested in ship wars.
But, I'm fine with things like IC Poly, have my biases, and am okay with commentary that's non-toxic on an ooc level.
Are you ship obsessed or ship more-or-less?
like i said, shipping is my lazy comfort zone; I'll be thinking of ships in bed and ooc when I'm chilling. But attention is good. dynamics are good. no need to be afraid if you're on the platonic and aromantic-interactions boat. We can't all be romantically compatible 24/7.
What is your favourite ship in your current fandom?
I'm not invested enough in my latest games quite yet; I suppose from Mistria, Eiland is cute, and I kinda ship the protag with Juniper as well!
I'm a bit of a LambxNarinder fan for the karma-esque, 'mercy is cruel' irony; marrying your biggest threat and User is just funny to me, especially if the relationship itself isn't cruel afterwards. I wanna see the death cat crumble under kindness-
in a meta way, my brain is rotisserie rotating Zivan, Rex, Volo, and Naoya as 'he's hot i'm gay' without much further thought; life's been a bit hectic for fantasy lately.
Finally, how does one ship with you?
Asking me at any point is the most reliable, IC chemistry and asking is possible. Suitable prompts and opens count as asking IC.
As a bonus, feel free to ask anytime about what my muse's opinion of yours is, if that's what helps you decide what to do. I'm honest when it comes to that shit, because it's fun-
Tagged by: stole it!
Tagging: take it!
#dash game.#ooc.#long post#shipping.#ask to tag#noncon mention#damn i babbled. got long winded on that one. oh well~#*on the stolen fanart thing; yes i realize most icons're stolen. but it feels worse somehow#credit and official is best but there's an epidemic in 'hot' fanart being the substitute for description.
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[Yeah, I'm putting the aftermath of yesterday's RP under a read more, mind the tags please.]
Grif flinched back, his eyes still tightly closed. He wished he’d done something to block his ears. The gunshot was bad, but the sound that followed was so much worse.
The gun slipped from his paws, hitting the ground with a dull thunk. What have I done? He took a step back, then turned and ran, finally opening his eyes to watch where he was going. He didn’t get far before he tripped, his legs still shaky.
He started to pick himself up, shaking his head. I can’t stay here. That’s when he saw the blood on his paws. Nikolai’s blood. He stared for a moment, before bile rose in his throat and he threw up.
He’d killed his best friend. A bitter laugh escaped Grif. Does this make me a murderer? Or does it not count because Nikolai asked me to do it? He looked down at his paws, now splattered with vomit as well as blood. A few seconds later, tears joined that awful mix. Come back. Please, come back. Don’t let this be the last memory I have of you.
Raindrops hit the back of his neck, and he looked up at a sky that was as gray as his mood. He should go back for the gun, Nikolai would be upset that he’d left it out in the rain. His stomach turned again, he couldn’t go back and see that. I’m sorry.
Grif stumbled his way inside to the bathroom, to wash away the evidence of what happened. If only he could scrub it from his memory too.
#the gryphon talks#tw gun use#tw death#tw blood#tw vomit#[Congratulations Grif on your first time killing someone!]
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8, 11, and 15 for either Ara in her Savanaclaw poly or Ara with Jamil?
Omg I'm dumb I just realized you guys DID send these to my RP blog and I don't have to screenshot ksksdk my bad
ANYWAY thank u bb ;v;
8. Who is the big spoon? Little spoon?
Ara x Ruggie + Leona: Ruggie is the littlest spoon, with Ara next. Leona usually prefers to be the big spoon. But they all mix it up depending on how they're cuddling or if it's just two of them. Ara likes to nuzzle into the nape of Ruggie's neck but it drives Leona crazy when she does that so she's not allowed to be big spoon for him anymore...so mean Leona...
Ara x Jamil: TBH they aren't big spooners. They mostly sleep cuddled face to face, or with one nuzzled into the other's chest or stomach. It's more comforting somehow. They can open their eyes and be reassured the other person is still right there.
11. Who is clingy?
Ara x Ruggie + Leona: Honestly they're usually all pretty independant and secure! Exceptions are when one is gone for a long period of time: Leona during his 4th year internship, later when its Pro-Spelldrive season and Ruggie travels for matches, or when Ara takes her team on a covert mission with no communication allowed. The other two tend to be more clingy while they're alone, and when the third gets back they're all three inseparable for a few days.
Ara x Jamil: Neither is very clingy in the conventional sense. Neither is prone to jealousy, and both have jobs that are central to their life and may take them away from home for long periods of time. This mutual understanding helps them find common ground, so they stay pretty evenly in tune with one another. A keen eye might notice that brief touches increase during periods of stress however: Jamil's hand brushing over Ara's lower back as he slides papers across a table, Ara pressing shoulders with him as they listen to a report together, little almost imperceptible moments.
15. How do they comfort one another when the other is upset?
Ara x Ruggie+Leona: Answered here!
Ara x Jamil: Food is a big one. Ara is no where near the cook that Jamil is, but she has a few things that she knows he likes that she's worked hard to perfect. For Jamil, feeding someone who is upset is as natural as putting a band aid on a cut.
Also soothing through playing with or touching the other's hair. Ara will force Jamil to sit still and quiet between her knees and she'll carefully oil and braid his hair until his breathing relaxes and his shoulders release their tension. Jamil will do the same for her (after she's eaten ofc), rubbing his thumbs down her neck and at the base of her skull.
Ask Game
Thank you dearest <33
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can you clarify something in your rules: i'm curious what "pwHPD" stands for. the only thing i can think of is "histrionic personality disorder" which is a highly stigmatized trauma response, primarily affecting survivors of gendered violence. is this what you're referring to or is there something else?
yeah i mean people w histrionic personality disorder
im currently in therapy n recovering from an abusive ex she had hpd n used her pd as an excuse to be abusive bc of her i developed ptsd gerd n ibs bc the chronic traumatic stress she n the relationship put me under
one of the things shed do is fake all kinds of disorders n symptoms n personal crisis for attn or when i needed support from her shed pretend to have smth worse going on so that id have to be the one supporting her while ignoring my own needs
i have these chronic lifetime conditions ima take to my grave all bc i loved the wrong person n yeah i dont want anyone who fakes disorders for attn to interact w me or this blog both from the standpoint of being a person who is actually sick n its shitty when someone treats ur struggles as some fun rp thing or aesthetic or quirky personality trait n also as a person who was abused by a abuser w hpd who weaseled her way into my life by faking a false sense of connection thru pretend disorders she didnt have then turning around n abusing me by forcing me into a caregiver role for her to fix the disorders n illnesses n symptoms n crisis she didnt rlly have
ive deleted all the asks ive gotten abt hpd in my dni bc 1 no one should have to explain their boundaries in order to prove they r worthy of being respected if it makes u uncomfortable bc u think im a bigot oh well ur entitled to feel that way n u know where the unfollow n block button r but i shouldnt have to talk abt my abuse to strangers online like this to prove to ppl i have a valid reason to wanna keep my distance from my triggers 2 i hate talking abt my ex
this blog is abt me connecting w new ppl in a new community it upsets me to know im forever sick bc of her that she forever changed me for the worse but this blog is me tryna change that mindset my ibs n gerd doesnt have to be a scar she left me w it can be a chance to meet new ppl its a new ch of my life i dont wanna talk abt her here i dont wanna give her more time n attn then i already have
i refuse to defend myself or my boundary this is a blog abt stomach problems ill only talk abt stomach problems if ppl wanna talk abt ptsd n stomach problem abuse n stomach problems trauma n stomach problems etc thats fine but im not gonna talk abt my boundaries or why i have them anymore
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This is a horror blog and is rated R18! Minors DNI!
Hello friends.
I’m Crocus, and this is my fantroll blog! I’ve been in the homestuck fandom for over a decade but haven’t roleplayed in it much for a while. I make horror content and this au is a chance for me to flex that.
Welcome to Alternia 789-M, an AU based on my own incredibly personal, long-held headcanons, adapted from when I used to rp, but updated.
Alternia 789-M has it’s own versions of the canon trolls! That being said they are far from canon compliant and will often act OOC. That is because they have had a lot of off screen character development that will be explained! Feel free to ask them what happened.
BLOG WIDE TRIGGER WARNINGS BELOW.
Continue with caution.
This AU is horror themed, so I will list the general trigger warnings for the blog. If you can not stomach anything on this list, please leave. I don’t want to cause any harm!
Gore
Body Horror
Abuse
Drug and substance abuse
Eating disorders
Self harm
Warfare
Harm to animals
Off screen harm to children
Major character death
None of these topics are intended to be glamorized or taken lightly. I am a horror writer by trade who just wants to explore an old au and have fun with ocs again. Feel free to block me if I do anything upsetting.
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ough okay i am not feeling great if anyone wanted 2 send asks to take my mind off of it that would be stellar
#i dont rly rp jsyk so not like. 'i am big and i hug you' asks.#i mean like do u have questions abt my characters or AUs#or idk. abt me. AMA time#the reason i feel bad is [kinda gross warning!!]#i have a big sore under my tongue that's bleeding intermittenly and i keep swallowing blood and that makes my stomach Upset#and my mouth tastes like iron all the time and i feel nauseous and Bad#so. distractions pls thank u 💜
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Rp Starter for @ask-the-dweets
-
Like a lot of the other survivors, David wasn't all that thrilled to see Pizza up close and personal after the many awful trials where he sought out to kill them. He was a little relieved that the guy wasn't a monstrous flaming ball anymore.. He was a survivor and not a killer again, but there was a definite grudge that the Scrapper held from when the man was a horrible monster.
It showed through his lack of altruism towards the nervous delivery man. Whatever feelings he had developed from before were a mix of emotions now. He didn't want to help him, he was upset and wasn't exactly the best at processing his thoughts or how something made him feel. The best way he could think to keep him from lashing out in frustration and completely ruining an already difficult trial, was to just ignore the poor guy entirely.
The growing issue outside of trials, was that he couldn't shake the guilt that kept invading his headspace. He'd sit at his campfire, mulling over how defeated and sad the other survivor looked when he did see him off and on. No one wanted to be around him after he'd brutally murdered so many of them.. David felt like they had every right to be angry about it. But he started thinking, and he hated when he had to do something serious like this. He just felt like maybe he needed to..
Pizza definitely didn't seem to understand why everyone was so upset with him.. Avoiding him in trials and refusing to help him didn't seem to make sense to him. David hadn't really noticed the initial confusion before, because.. well he really didn't want to.
He was starting to wonder if maybe Pizza didn't even remember being a killer..? How could someone be that confused about everyone hating his guts. For the rest of them, it was very clear they didn't want to associate with someone who murdered them.
In the end, ignoring him with no explanation was probably making things worse. It got the scrapper believing maybe they could work something out.. He did like the guy from beforehand anyway.. He kind of wanted to stop being mad at him. He considered sucking it up to go talk to him.. David ran a hand over his face and had to slap his own cheeks a couple of times to try and focus. He gave a huff before pressing his hands onto the log and standing himself up. With a semi-determined stride, the rugged man walked in whichever direction led him to Pizza's campfire. He slowed down the closer he got since he didn't really.. think about what he was going to say or even ask of the guy. Seeing that red hat and shirt not too far off from him made his stomach flip. What the hell was he going to do? He was always terrible at this sort of thing.
As he approached the fire, he felt like this was going to be a bad idea. He wants to do this- he knows he wants to. He walked all the way over here for a reason. He just didn't know how to confront this situation and get whatever answers he was looking for. Now that he was at the fire and standing there like a weirdo.. he felt pretty uncomfortable.
He tightened the roll of his sleeves and then put his hands on his hips as he stared down awkwardly at his shoes. Jesus, he should have thought about this part before approaching. He wanted to say something just to get it started, but nothing that came to mind sounded.. decent.
“Er.." Was all he could get to come out of his mouth.
#ask-the-dweets#david k rp#long post#david making his way across the forest just to stand there and look dumb
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OOC:
Still feeling sick af.
Expect spelling errors.
Lots of spelling errors.
Also a low tolerance. --because a sick me is not a happy me--
PSA
Im getting tired of people asking about whats in my pants... What it is doesn't matter, and has nothing to do with the character or roleplaying. And it makes me incredibly uncomfortable to talk about it. (seriously the amount of people asking has just been rediculous I'm starting to get even more sick to my stomach and that is currently already a problem, i dont need anymore added to it...)
Its a quick way to get me to bounce from a conversation and just be to myself... It just puts me into a downer mood that i don't like to be in...
So here it is:
The admin is non binary.
They/Them. Or if you wanna refer to blue--then just use "he"
Thats it. Thats my gender. And its not changing. That's the answer i give people who ask and its the one i will keep giving to those who keep asking.
And pressing further on the matter is just disrespectful in general and disrespecting me as a person...
Please just respect it okay?
Im just here to enjoy myself in rp and make people happy who enjoy interacting with my variation of Blue, and weather i sport a twat or a cock shouldn't change that...
All it does is upset me. And if thats your goal the congratulations. Youve succeeded.
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Manual Stimulation response.
First of all I just wanna say that I love love looove this prompt and I can't wait to read everything that's gonna come from it. Seeing that it's something I enjoy I figured I could try and contribute as well.
Even though I'm at work we text every once in a while so you've already informed me of your issue. I suggested drinking some tea or milk or eating something that generally helps with digestion like prunes. But all of that has only made matters worse as none of it has digested and is now just a pile of food waiting to properly processed.
My shift has finally ended and I come home and find you curled up on the couch with your tummy in your hands, softly cradling the sensitive ball of trouble. You plead for my aid as you can no longer withstand the pain and tendernes of your poor tummy. I get to work as quick as possible and soon enough I manage to jump start the digestion process. This however comes with it's own price. Your gut is now overwhelmed by the amount of food and it starts contracting and trying to pace the incoming wave of food which gives you some horrid cramps. Because of this I have to sink my hands deeper and try to fight those cramps. This goes on for quite a while, a fight between me and your digestion until you finally process it all.
Thank you so, so much for this! A response to this post.
Sorry this took so long. Life got busy and left me no time to write anything. On top of that, I really, really, really wanted to write something worthy of this response.
Your phone pings, signalling a message. You duck into an empty room. It's a slow shift tonight. You're on-rotation and hoping that the hospital doesn't get too busy. A blush manifests on your face as you see what it is that I have sent you.
It's an image of my usually-trim belly with just a barely-there bulging curve to it. It's captioned “4 hours and counting -_-”.
A sound from somewhere down the hall tears your attention away from the phone, but you still type a quick response as you try to school your blush. You hurriedly tell me to drink some tea or something to settle my stomach. There's an incident with a patient at the end of the hall and you rush there, thoughts about me and about our conversation forgotten as you get to work.
I see the hurried message about tea and sigh, gently nursing the ball of indigestion that is my belly. I feel the contents churning in my stomach, rolling around between my palms. Unfortunately, that's about all it does. Very little has actually passed into my intestines despite dinner having been hours ago. We've been together long enough for the novelty of waiting up for each other to fade. When you draw night-shift I usually get a head-start with sleep and you do your best not to disturb me when you make it home. Unfortunately, dinner isn't settling well in my tummy tonight and sleep eluded me because of it.
Biting back a moan, I steel myself and stand up, both arms cradling my achy belly as I do so. I feel my stomach cramp and gurgle as the glut of food shifts inside of it. Taking a few seconds, I rub over my taut belly, kneading gently to try and manually break up what feels like a dense mass of food in my tummy. I can't help the groans and whimpers as I sluggishly move to the kitchen, setting the kettle up and rummaging around the cupboards for some tea. Of course, the peppermint just has to be on the top shelf. My stomach cramps painfully as I stretch to reach the box of tea leaves. Cosidering how we rely on peppermint tea as a stomach soother, we really should be keeping it on a lower shelf, somewhere easier to reach when either of us is doubled up with stomach pain (usually me).
My stomach burbles angrily within me as I watch the kettle come to a boil. I try my best to sooth it, even pressing my belly against the counter-top to try and get any sort of relief. It never comes.
Two hours since my last message and you've finally hit a lull at work. You duck into another quiet room and pull out your phone. Surely I've gone to bed by now, but you decide to check if there are any updates about the state of my stomach.
'(11:43P) Made tea. Need to stop putting peppermint out-of-reach.'
'(12:14A) Didn't help. Dinner is bobbing around in my stomach. Feels weird. Need your hands, babe.'
A short audio file has been sent after that text and you blush scarlet as you tap on it and hear a sickly, wet grumble from a clearly-distressed belly. When one thinks 'indigestion'--that's the kind of sound they think of—wet, thick, sickly, and troubled.
You quickly type out a response.
'(1:40AM) You damned tease.'
Your phone reads 4:07AM when you finally reach the door to our apartment and fumble quietly with the keys. You do your best to minimize any noise, thinking that I'd have gone to sleep by now.
Quietly entering our apartment, your gaze follows the faint glow coming from the living room. I left the standing lamp on, it seems. What surprises you is that I'm under the lamp, leaning on the far side of the couch with my knees up and my arms sandwiched against my belly.
“Sweetie? What are you still doing up?” You whisper, quietly padding over to the couch.
“Nnngh....w-welcome home.” I mutter passed a groan. I whimper as you settle on the couch next to me, the action jostling me and sending shockwaves through my sickly tummy. A shaky rumble squeezes out from behind my arms as you settle.
“Oh? Is your belly still upset?” You're surprised—even more so when I nod and cuddle up to you. I grab your arms as I settle against your chest, quickly placing your hand over my belly as I uncurl slightly from the tense ball I've been in for hours. My legs protest the change in position but I ignore the cramps, trying to focus on the feeling of your hands on my belly and waiting for the relief I hope you'll bring.
My belly has a bit more of a curve to it compared to the photo I sent you hours ago. The curve surprises you as you had expected the bloating to subside after all these hours. The idea of me having spent hours with such a visibly uncomfortable belly stirs both pity and lust in your mind.
Audible, wet grumbles resound with every knead of your palms on my belly. You palpitate my abdomen, exploring it. There's a large mug on the coffee table, about 1/3 full of the remnants of peppermint tea. Three tea-bags rest at the bottom of the mug. Knowing my tea-drinking habits, you quickly calculate and decide that it means a little over five and a half mugs of tea have made their way into my bowels.
My intestines are bloated with the sheer amount of tea that I managed to consume. It didn't really help and only served to make my guts really sloshy. The stubborn mass of dinner sits heavily in my stomach, refusing to be broken down no matter how much my stomach clenches around it and my stomach has basically given up at this point. Hours of futile churning haven't managed to dislodge the sticky mass. My stomach is sore from trying, and failing, to digest for so many hours. I'm exhausted from being kept up waaaay passed my normal sleeping hours with this unrelenting indigestion.
Your kneading hands get to work on my stomach, deftly mapping out the situation in my guts and working accordingly. You are very familiar with this process as I suffer from indigestion fairly frequently. We find ourselves in similar situations, though on a lesser scale, at least three times a week.
A well-placed pinch to the left side of my abdomen, in tandem with three of your fingers pushing deeply and stimulating a loop of intestine on my right side results in a sickly rumble. I gasp as I feel a chunk of the sticky mass in my belly break off and get passed the sphincter at the base of my stomach.
“Ooooh...fuckin' finally!” I moan as peristalsis rolls in waves through my bloated intestines, seeking out the bit of food that managed to enter after hours and hours of indigestion.
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@collective-muses-rp
Sam couldn’t help but admire his brother’s body it was still nice even though his belly was a bit big with their baby and he wanted to touch it his fingers itched to. “Dean can I touch your stomach?” Sam asked his brother before he did he heard some pregnant people were touchy about that and he didn’t want to upset Dean or offend him.
“Dean I know you are going to take care of her inside and when she’s out in the world I am not worried about you taking care of her. You’ll be a great dad.” Sam told him with a smile. “Hell you raised me and I came out okay.” Sam told him. “Well I am glad you came to me Dean and I am glad you told me. She’s my daughter and I want to take care of her and you as well.” Sam told his brother. He didn’t care what he had with anyone though he didn’t have a boyfriend right now really so it was fine. Jessica was just his best friend, and she would be happy for him he knew that.“
"Well I am glad you didn’t give her up Dean I want to get to know her and I know you do too.” Sam told him as he settled behind his brother after getting up to get some oil. He poured some in his hands and rubbed them together so that the oil would be warm before putting his hands on Dean’s shoulders and rubbing.
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🌻 If you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notifications, anonymously or not! Let's get to know the person behind the blog 🌻 (It can also be IC if you prefer!)
I am a bit of a picky eater. Mostly because textures can gross me out more so than flavors. Like I love the taste of banana but I hate eating the actual banana. It’s too mushy of a texture. An now I have to be even more careful on foods because I don’t have a gallbladder anymore. So I get a lot of weird looks when I can’t eat things either because of texture or because they will upset my stomach. It’s not fun.
I am queer and I don’t care what pronouns you use for me. All of my characters are also queer with the exception of Alexois and that is only because he suffered some trauma when he was young.
I have literally fallen asleep during RP. Not because it’s boring. Just because I tend to pumpkin around midnight. XD I’ve done this to several friends and one was worried she was boring. Till Sana figured out I was just basically turning into a pumpkin because I was too tired to resist.
Thanks for the ask
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/RP - QPP Techno and Phil [NOT shippy at all]/
Technoblade has known Wilbur since shortly after he was born, he’s watched the kid grow up, and ended up helping Phil raise him as well. The three of them spent the most of their time together during the Antarctic Empire days, and while Techno never thought much on kids, Wilbur was something important to him, just as Phil was the most important person to Techno. There was some hesitation at first, when Phil first told him that he had a son, that Techno should meet him, but in the end Techno couldn’t say no to Phil.
So he goes to the man and meets a little bundle wrapped up in warm furs, already with thickening brown hair and chubby cheeks. Phil had pushed him into Techno’s arms, and Techno didn’t know what to do for a moment, before things fell into place and he cradled the small bundle against his chest. Phil had said something in the moment, something about how much smaller Wil looks in his arms. Well yeah, of course, he was massive. And feeling Wilbur held against his chest and in that small bundle made him actually realize how large he was and how small basically newborns were.
And in that moment Techno realize he had another person to protect with his life.
“Techno!” The voice is small and from behind him, he turns his head and pushes his glasses up his nose a bit, he grins a bit when he sees Wilbur standing there behind him, all wrapped up in his snow clothes. He can only see a bit of the boys face, his cheeks and nose already red from the cold.
“Yes, Wilbur?” He turns to the four year old and crouches down to be closer to eye level with the boy.
“Want up.”
“Up?” Wilbur just nods, grinning his toothy little grin, holding his arms out to Techno.
“Well I guess you’re goin’ up then.” Techno chuckles a bit and grabs Wilbur and lifts him up pretty much effortlessly, swinging the boy around to sit on his shoulders, Wilbur wobbling for a moment but stabling himself there.
“Thank you Papa Techno.” Techno flushes.
“Hey now what did we say about that one?” It’s not that Techno minded that Wilbur called him that, it just felt a bit disingenuous, it felt off in his stomach. He wasn’t Wilbur’s father, but he cared a great deal for the boy.
“Sorry Techno.” He doesn’t sound too upset by the very light scolding, but there’s still a hint of something in his voice.
“You wanna walk around the base with me?” Techno asks, trying to steer away from the boys hurt feelings.
“Yes yes!”
“If you’re lucky we might see a fox.” Techno turns and heads off in one direction, things have been quiet lately, which is good for everyone. He didn’t really wanna feel like dealing with anything big right now, especially not with a toddler to take care of, and Phil was away at the moment, just on a routine thing. Techno decided to stay back and take care of Wilbur, since he wasn’t needed at whatever meeting thing Phil had to attend.
They take a slow trot around the area, Wilbur pulling gently on Techno’s hair after a little bit to be let down so he can run around in the snow and build it up into little mounds and snowmen. Techno leans against a larger snow mound and just keeps watch as Wilbur runs around, he’s already thinking of getting the kid back inside soon, get him nice and warmed up and give him a little hot chocolate as a treat. He sees a movement out of the corner of his eyes and grins and shifts to kneel down and looks over to Wilbur.
“Wilbur.” He whispers and the boy looks over to him, head tilted a bit. Techno gestures with his hand for him to come over to him. “C’mere, quietly.” Wilbur mirrors Techno’s stance and slowly makes his way over to the Piglin.
“What is it?” Wil whispers back, looking up to Techno. The man scoops him up in his arms softly and turns them a bit, pointing out to the open. There a little off into the distance, close enough he’s sure Wilbur could still from there, was a little white fox. Wilbur gasps and raises himself up in Techno’s arms like he’s trying to get a better look, so Techno moves as slowly and quietly as he can so they can get a little closer. Wilbur coos softly at the fox and Techno chuckles softly, shifting the boy in his arms to get a better hold on him.
“Did you make it appear?” Wilbur asks, still not taking his eyes off the fox as it wanders around the area a bit.
“I didn’t, but maybe you did.”
“Ooohhh. Maybe.” Wilbur nods and leans back against Techno, enchanted by the fox. It’s adorable, Techno has to admit to himself.
“What you two lookin at?” There’s a voice behind the two of them, making them both jump and Wilbur lets out a little shout that scares off the fox, which makes Wilbur pout. The two of them look back and up to who the hell broke their moment.
“Dad!!” Wilbur gasps and scrambles out of Techno’s arms and into his fathers, Techno stands and wipes the snow from his pants and crosses his arms, grinning at Phil.
“Welcome back.”
“Good to be back, anything interesting happen while I was gone?” The three of them start the short walk back to their base, Techno shrugs.
“Not really, same old same old.” And it was the truth, not much going on, other than some minor tantrums from Wilbur, nothing was different. There was one night that he’ll tell Phil about later.
They’re back in the base and Techno gets started on hot chocolate for Wil and something less sweet for Phil and him, Phil is asking Wilbur about what he did with uncle Techno while he was gone and Wilbur is happily babbling about anything and everything under the sun that they did together in the time.
“So... Really, how was he?” Phil asks some time later, when it’s just him and Techno just sitting on the couch together, Phil stretched out, his feet in Techno’s lap as he relaxes for the first time since before he left.
“He actually did pretty well, there were a couple of nights where he was grumpy and didn’t wanna go to bed, but other than that, we were fine by ourselves. One rough night when he really missed you and woke up from a nightmare, refused to leave my bed, so I let him stay the night there.” Techno thinks back on the night, thinks about how small Wilbur is compared to him. Because Phil is already smaller than Techno by a good amount, and Wilbur is a four year old and just so tiny when measured up to Techno. It makes him more careful, and while the kiddo isn’t made of glass, there’s still something in the back of Techno’s brain saying he needs to be extra careful with the kid.
“He do good after that, because he can get quiet after a night like that.” Phil says, looking at Techno. The hybrid nods.
“He was a bit quiet during that day, but got his energy back after lunch. Glad for it, because seeing that kid with no energy is upsetting in its own right.” The two of them chuckle together, Techno relaxing back into the cushions of the couch. He tells Phil of the other things they got up while he was gone, making sure to tell Phil as much as possible, keeping some of Wilbur’s eating habits out of it because Techno might have fed him more sweets than he was allowed in the end. Phil being Phil, might figure out anyways. But they’ll deal with it if it shows up.
#technoblade#philza#dsmp#dreamsmp#dream smp#my writing#this feels all over the place but oh well#short as my writing usually is#i also haven't written in a hot minute so :)
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Whumpmas in July (Day 21): Secret
Ooh, if there’s one trope I love, it’s forbidden relationships. They’re so ripe with angst and whump. Rose has been one of my earliest OC’s. I used to rp her with Batman characters, but she’s grown into a character on her own right. Colby is also relatively new, and he’s a detective who can be too bold for his own good.
CW: forbidden relationship, minor kissing, mild whump, emotional angst, forced to hurt someone
———
Colby tugged Rose into the broom closet and pushed her against the wall. “Hey babe,” He greeted, and then he kissed her. Rose furrowed her brow, and she pushed him back.
“Where did you come from? And why are you dressed up as a janitor?” She demanded.
Colby shrugged. “Work.” Rose scoffed.
“Yeah, ok. Are you trying to get us caught?!”
“I just missed you,” Colby said, and this time she let him kiss her. She squeezed his hand.
“I missed you too,” Rose admitted. She listened for anyone outside. “There’s too many of my father’s men around. I don’t want to get caught.”
“Fine,” Colby rolled his eyes. He wasn’t actually upset. They both knew they’d be toast if anyone discovered she was dating a special agent, but he could pretend. “I’ll catch you later.”
“Yeah. Bye,” Rose said. Colby reached for the door, and then he paused.
“So what business were you doing for him in Chicago?”
“Ha,” Rose huffed. “Cute.” Colby smiled sheepishly.
“I had to try.”
“No work talk,” Rose reminded. “And don’t get caught.”
Colby pouted at her. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get caught either.” and then he slipped out.
—
“We caught a nark rooting around,” One of father’s enforcers huffed. Rose felt her stomach drop, but she forced her face to remain neutral.
“Oh?” She asked. Her mind flitted through inconspicuous ways to get more attention. “My father must be pissed.”
“Oh he is,” The enforcer whistled. “Some of the guys are working on softening him up so we can weed out what he’s figured out so far. We don’t know who he reports to, either.”
“How did he get in?” Rose asked.
“Posing as janitorial staff. Mr. Cheney wants to fire all of them.”
“Are you sure they knew?” Rose questioned. Colby always pushed his superiors to keep everyone around him safe. He hated the collateral damage that came with their line of work, and he was one of the ones inside of the law.
“I’m pretty sure pennies would be a pay raise over what they normally get, so the cops would be dumb to not bribe the janitors for a way in.”
“Yeah, that’s fair,” Rose forced herself to say. She perked up, as if her phone had buzzed, and she pulled it out of her pocket, checking it. Luckily, she always had an array of notifications on her screen, so she managed to excuse herself. “Ah shit. I forgot an appointment. See you later!”
—
Rose shifted foot to foot in the elevator, praying no one would see her. She held her master key in one hand and her phone in the other. She’d have to delete the log of her unlocking the door immediately after she did it, so she had her back-end console access pulled up already. The doors dinged. They opened.
The hallway wasn’t empty. There were a handful of men on guard, and Rose recognized her father’s personal bodyguard, Gianni. But shit— she was already here, and leaving suddenly would be suspicious. She walked forward, drawing the attention of everyone in the hall. Her legs felt like jelly as she made it to Gianni. He didn’t ask why she was there— bless him.
“He’s in one of his moods again. The nark had bad timing,” Gianni murmured. The door remained cracked open, and Rose heard her father’s angry voice. She worried what was behind it, but she needed to show a reason for being here. Rose slipped inside.
Colby was a bloody mess. Blood streaked down his face from his nose and a cut on his temple. His cheekbone showed the beginning signs of bruising, and his clothes were rumpled and dirty. He sat cuffed in a chair, and the furniture in the room had been pushed to the corners to clear out an area for the man.
Colby’s face morphed with surprise at the sight of his girlfriend, but he tried to cover it up as Roman Cheney turned to look at her. He adjusted the rings on his fingers. “Ah. Dear…”
Rose smelled the alcohol on his breath. He only drank when something major bothered him, and as terrible as this was, she didn’t think Colby could be the sole cause. As her father looked at her expectantly, her brain fumbled for a cause.
“I ran into a cop at the coffee shop last week— just wanted to check if it was the same guy,” She lied. Sort of. She had seen a cop at a coffee shop out of her way, and it was Colby, but no, that wasn’t why she was here. Roman looked between her and Colby.
“Is it?”
“No,” Rose rocked onto the front of her feet and then set back. “Sorry to interrupt.” She stepped back toward the door.
“No, no,” Her father waved his hand flippantly. “I told you I wanted you to get more involved in my affairs. Come! Soften this nobody up.” Rose glanced at Colby warily.
“Um… you know I don’t like to get my hands dirty,” Rose started slowly. Roman brushed the rejection off, already pulling his rings off his fingers. He grabbed Rose’s hands and transferred them to her much smaller fingers. She tried to pull away. “I really don’t want to get—“
“Shh! Blow some steam!” Roman encouraged. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her in front of Colby, and then he stepped back. “Punch him.”
“What?”
“Give him a little punch. You know how,” Roman prodded. Rose fidgeted with the rings. Colby stared up at her. Rose looked over her shoulder at her father, who was waiting patiently. Even in his drunken state, he’d be able to recognize something was amiss. Rose’s arm felt heavier than usual as she lifted it up. She forced herself to steady the slight shake.
Rose punched Colby in the face. The punch was rather weak, and honestly, it probably didn’t hurt him much except for the bulky rings. Colby just glanced up at her. Roman apparently noticed that. “Come on! What do I pay your personal trainer for?!”
“I—“ Rose started an excuse, but then she just punched him again. This time still felt weak. Roman grumbled and took hold of Rose’s closed fist. She tried to cover up. “I just haven’t punched anyone for real before. I’m overthinking it.”
Roman hummed in thought and looked around the room. He brightened with an idea. Rose watched him move toward a dismantled cubicle, and she managed a mouthed ‘I’m sorry.’ to Colby. He shook his head. They needed to keep their cover.
Roman got to the desk and grabbed the keyboard drawer. He tugged on it, and after some jiggling, he actually broke the whole thing off of the desk. He dumped the office supplies out as he walked back to Rose and presented it to her. “Here! Just swing and commit to it. It’ll feel easier.”
Rose stared at him. She couldn’t hit Colby with this. Even at a low speed, the particle board could hurt him. She tentatively took the drawer in her hands, turning it over to display the flat side. Roman still waited for her to hit him, appearing genuinely entertained by today’s violence. She knew he wasn’t letting her get out of this.
Rose lifted her hands a bit higher and shakily pulled the drawer back. Colby shut his eyes and turned his face away in anticipation. Rose swung the drawer as hard as she could.
The cheap building material burst upon hitting his face, splitting in half. Colby yelled in pain.The far half clattered onto the floor a second later, and Rose clutched her half far too tightly. Colby’s cheek flared red from the impact. Rose wanted to be sick. She wanted to touch Colby’s face and nurse the bruises better, as she’d done so many times before, under the secret of anonymity and shady meeting spots. She wanted to kiss it better.
“See? Wasn’t that better?” Roman demanded, and he took the half out of Rose’s grip. He used it to backhand Colby, and a fresh stream of blood soon leaked from his nose. Roman tossed the debris aside and clapped his hand down on his daughter’s shoulder. “Atta girl. Now, why don’t you run along? Go get a manicure for these soft hands. It’s on me.”
Roman lifted Rose’s hands to his face and kissed them before taking his rings back from her. “This young rascal and I here still have some business to attend to. In fact, he still hasn’t told me his name. Can you believe that?! I’ll just keep asking.”
The captured man’s name pressed against Rose’s lips, but she knew to keep it in. Colby.
#wij21day21#whumpmas in july#Colby Kaye#Rose Isley#Roman Cheney#Gianni#Gianni the bodyguard#my ocs#my oc#my writing#forbidden love#forbidden relationship#whump#undercover#caught#drunk fathers#blunt force trauma#punching with rings
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Meant To Be (In Any Form)-7
Heeeey...So yeah...muses were being finicky as they always are and I just couldn't seem to focus on anything! Those are the main reasons why I just haven't been able to get myself to write. Seriously, I know I can write a oneshot fairly quickly so it shouldn't take almost 3 weeks to do so and yet! Also as always I've been distracted my RP with Autumn and some RL crud so yeah. Anyway, please enjoy some domestic fluff!
Chapter Summary: Poppy comes home to a delightful surprise.
Also found on: AO3/FF.Net
@hayleysstark LOOK! I WROTE SOME DOMESTIC FLUFF!
~*~*~*~*~*~
The day had started as usual for the trolls of Pop Village, sunshine beaming down through the trees as they went about their daily business of singing, dancing and hugging led by their darling Queen Poppy. Even when it got a little cloudy it didn't deter them in the slightest, their fun continuing up until the sky opened up and rain began to fall. Some families rushed their kids inside, not wanting the trollings to get sick, others stayed and danced in the falling water until it started to really pour. While they all made a mad dash for some cover, Poppy laughed joyously as she ran through the rain, the water soaking her through as she made her way to the large tree her home was built in. Thankfully she knew her scrapbook supplies would be safe, having long since taken the advice of Branch to keep it contained in plastic in case her hair got too wet. Carefully running up the stairs, she didn't want Branch to scold her for not being careful, she made it under their porch awning, dripping wet and giggling breathlessly.
Taking a moment to squeeze some water from her dress and hair, the least she could do so she didn't make a huge puddle inside, the pink troll slipped inside the tree-house her loving husband had made them. Stepping inside, she shivered at the sudden temperature difference, goosebumps raising on her pink skin as she dripped all over the foyer. She wasn't greeted by the usual warm glow of the glowshrooms however, which made her pause and tilt her head, because instead there was a fainter glow flickering beyond the corner. Alongside one of her favorite sounds in the world, Branch's humming. She stood there, curious as the what he was up to but also just wanting to enjoy the soft music he made. Maybe if she stood here long enough he'd start singing~ However that wasn't to be as she shivered again just as he spoke up.
“You can come around the corner, you know. Don't have to hide to listen to me hum.”
Poppy giggled and replied, “I would but I don't want to drip too much on the carpet~!”
She could just feel him pausing before he padded around the corner of the living room to spot her in all her wet, dripping glory. Dress plastered to her and hair dropping over her eyes. She grinned at him as he sighed, exasperated, before shaking his head. Then she noticed he wasn't wearing his usual vest and shorts combo. No, her hunk of a husband was all dressed up; white dress-shirt, the top few buttons undone, and dark blue, almost blank slacks with his indigo hair combed and swept back. Taking a moment to appreciate the look, Gumdrops was he delicious, the queen asked, “What's the occasion? Not meeting anyone behind my back are you~?”
Rolling his blue eyes, Branch approached his soaking wife with a shake of head, “Only the queen herself. Who apparently decided to not even try to avoid the rain.”
“Aww, come on~ You know as well as I do how fun it is to run in the rain!” She grinned as he rolled his eyes once more before saying, “Soooo? You never answered by question. What's the occasion, my man~?”
He gestured with his head, stepping back lightly, “Look for yourself.”
Peeking around the corner, careful not to drip too much on the soft felt and moss carpet, Poppy gasped in delight as she spotted a small round table set up for a romantic dinner for two, candles burning in the center beside a small mound of flowers. “Awww~” She cooed, looking back to Branch with a grin, “And whatever brought this on?”
“What?” He shrugged, “Can't a husband treat his wife to a romantic dinner date at home? To thank her for everything she's ever done and for choosing him to spend the rest of her fun, loud and crazy life with?”
“You've been thinking about things again.” It wasn't a question that needed an answer, she already knew it.
He shrugged a little bashfully, “Maybe just a little.” It wasn't like he ever hid the fact that he would always be grateful that she had taken a chance on him, helped to turn his gray and lonely life around to something he could now say he loved just as much as he loved her. Crazy, glitter filled parties and all.
Smiling softly at him, the pink troll bounced over, cooing, “You are adorable~” She quickly kissed his cheek before stating, “And I'd choose you every time~ Be right back~!” And then she was quickly racing up the stairs to change out of her wet clothes.
~*~*~*~
Bouncing back downstairs, her hair only slightly frizzy from her rush towel drying, Poppy found Branch pouring them a glass of stoutberry wine, a delicious smell wafting through the covered dishes now on the table. She grinned at him once he noticed her and sashayed over when he held his arms out for her.
“Smells great~ What'cha make?” She asked, happily returning his hug.
He chuckled, warm and fond, as he brush some of her hair back behind an ear, “You'll see~” He then, like the gentletroll he was, pulled her chair out for her.
Once they were both settled, the survivalist gestured for her to take the covering off her plate and as she did so, she got the best whiff of their meal. Looking down, she grinned and bounced a little in her seat, seeing her favorite dish ever! Rice and mixed vegetables, extra mushrooms! And there was even a little bowl of spicy pepper flakes if she so desired to add some heat to it! She squealed happily, thanking Branch profusely, and then gave a little happy dance as he revealed he also whipped up some twisty garlic and cheese bread-sticks!
“Ooh-hohoho!! You love me~!” She sang, digging right into her food.
“That's not exactly a secret anymore.” He chuckled, taking his own calmer bite of food.
Soon enough, Poppy calmed down and they enjoyed the quiet ambiance of falling rain and the soft crackle of the fireplace. They shared their days from when they had separated after the morning song, Branch telling her he had finally worked out what had happened to the waterslide. The pipes had somehow been clogged by some of Sky's prototype water beads. They were suppose to be soft enough to squeeze through most things, being mostly made of water, but the formula wasn't right yet and so they had grown too large inside the pipe. Sky's assistant had admitted to accidentally spilling some in the pool, hoping to come and fish them out once they had grown large enough to see but not knowing some had been swept up into the pipe. Thankfully it had been an easy enough fix and with a new even tighter mesh insert hopefully nothing would get through again. Branch admitted that had the weather not changed so quickly, the slide would have been fully functional that day but instead trolls would have to wait a little longer.
Poppy had filled him in on all the fun he had missed during an impromptu dance party and the then resulting game of hide and seek. Before all that she had gone to three different birthday parties and a muffin tasting at the muffin stand. After being found, she had stopped by Ginger's baby shower before hanging around the market with some of the Snack Pack, trading ideas for the upcoming Prank Day. There had been a brief search for Mr. Dinkles but thankfully the glowworm hadn't been missing for long. And then a flash mob had taken over the market place! It was just after everyone was taking a breather from that bit of fun that the storm had hit and Poppy had made her mad dash home.
After that their conversation moved to other things, mostly ranging from any day to day activities to any upcoming holiday's and events, Poppy focusing on the fun and Branch on making sure everything she wanted to do would be safe. But that was what made them work so well together, in official royal business and personal life, they'd do their respective specialties and meet in the middle. Of course they still had moments where they were unwilling to compromise but in the end they always worked it out and everyone winded up having more fun for it.
Dinner ended soon enough without fan fair, Poppy leaning back in her chair with a sigh of satisfaction as she patted her stomach, “That was delicious~ As always~”
Branch snickered lightly but smirked at her, “You always say that.” He leaned his head on his hand, watching Poppy through hooded eyes past the candlelight, smirk turning into something soft as he gazed at her. “Sorry there's no dessert. There wasn't any time to go pick something up. Your stuff's better anyway.”
Poppy grinned at him, “Flattery will get you everywhere and that's okay,” She shrugged one shoulder before giving him a sassy smirk, “You're all the dessert I need~”
“Pffft!” Branch snickered, getting up and coming around the back of her chair to nuzzle under her ear as he replied to her flirt, “You're impossible~”
“You love me~!”
“Mmm, I do...I really, really do~” He kissed her cheek softly before leaning back, “And I do have a little after dinner surprise for you. But you have to keep eyes closed.”
“Awww!” The pink queen whined lightly, “Do I have too?”
“Yes.”
Poppy sighed, more dramatically than upset, “Fiiiiine.” And then did as her husband asked, sitting and waiting for him to tell her to open them. She knew he hadn't gone to far, listening to him shuffle around somewhere in their living room but she couldn't figure out what he could be doing.
Meanwhile, after making sure she wasn't peeking, Branch set up the surprise he knew she'd love, tossing and arranging an array of their softest and fluffiest blankets down the perfect distance away from the fire. They'd be warm, but not too much, and comfortable without having to worry about anything catching on fire. After arranging the pillows just right, he went over and gently pulled Poppy out of her chair, telling her to open her eyes. “I figured you wouldn't mind a cuddle session since it's rainy.” He smirked, gesturing to the pile.
“You bet I don't!” Poppy cried happily before pulling Branch over with her usual exuberance, pushing him gentle down upon the pillows before joining him. Cuddling up close, she listened as he chuckled at her antics, smiling at the fond sound. But as she laid her head on his chest, she realized something was missing. Sitting up with a slight frown, she ignored Branch questioning look as she quickly undid the top few buttons of his shirt. Nodding with delight, she laid back down, hand slipping under the now semi-opened shirt to feel his skin. She hummed happily as she held it above his heart, feeling the comforting pulse of it beating and sighed, “Much better~”
Branch merely chuckled some more at his wife's antics, laying his hand over hers to hold it as he used his other arm to hold her close. Reaching with his hair, he draped one last blanket over them as they relaxed, unconsciously beginning to hum as he held her hand above his heart. It wasn't long there after that between the full bellies, crackling fire and the heavy rainfall crashing outside found the royal couple drifting off to sleep, wrapped up in their embrace.
~*~*~*~*~*~
And there you have it! Some, hopefully, tooth rotting fluff! And yes, Poppy enjoys feeling her man up whenever she can XD Anyway, hope you enjoyed and maybe one day I'll be able to focus again on something for more than 3 seconds Lol! I have things I want to write I tell ya!
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