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.

‘I come home from working the night shift to see you lying in bed while rubbing your stomach. “Is your stomach upset?” I ask trying to look sympathetic. I feel bad that you're stomach is upset but I love seeing you like this, your shirt ridding up your taut belly while you moan in discomfort. I rub your belly gently and soothingly at first, but gradually start applying more pressure. Your stomach gurgles loudly as my hands continue prodding it.’

Mini thing i thought of

It's okay pup, I know you need to grind into my boot, no need to be embarrassed. You poor thing, look at me, as long as you clean up your mess after you can hump yourself as dumb as you need to, okay? Okay. Such a good puppy, you look so cute when you're desperate like that.

i drew this in the most unromantic way possible please understand that ethan is just their miserable wet cat they found outside in the snow

With his belly round and heavy, the boy worries about the consequences of his actions…

it just sucks because nothing is ever fucking made for you, and if it is made for you like 75% of the time it gets chopped into little pieces by every person alive because this is the one thing you have, so it has to prove itself to you.

like, a thing can't just be for women. men need to assign it to women. women have to experience "must" or "should" before their hobbies and passions - women are allowed to do silly, passive things like tuck our ankles and titter behind a fan, or something. women are allowed to, they are welcomed to. like the world is a house and we are supposed to be in the kitchen and now we are being given the divine right to enter the living room if we bring chips

because when it becomes for you, or about you, that is when the thing is vile. you should/must wear makeup so you can appear beautiful to men. once you wear makeup for yourself, or because you yourself enjoy putting it on, then you are no longer doing the right thing. there is a reason men hate certain fashion trends. there is a reason men hate things like the pumpkin spice latte - because it's not about them. you are buying it because it is good for you. they degrade your passions and interests. there is a reason women-led fields are largely seen as being "not a real" profession. when you are a good cook, that is because you can provide for him. close your eyes. you're not going to be a chef, be honest. that is a man making food for himself.

bras are made so breasts will be appealing to men. they are rarely about comfort or support. you have given up entirely on the idea of pockets. young girls have to worry about a shorter inseam on their shorts. a girl on instagram gets her septum pierced, and men in the comments are rabid about it - i just want to rip it out of her face. she'd be beautiful without it.

and fucking everything is for them. even the media that is "for you" is for them, eventually. remember "my little pony"? remember how hard it is to convince any executive to believe that little girls are worth selling to? in the media that is for you, you see little ways that you still need to make it accessible for them - the man is always powerful, smart, masculine. he is a man's man. the media usually forgives him. it usually says okay, some men are awful, but hey! gotta love 'em. because if you don't hold their hands and say "this is literally just a story about my lived reality", they shit their pants about it. they demand you put them into the media that's for you.

these are people who are so used to glutting themselves on the world. they are used to having every corner and every dollar and every place of leadership. so you say can i please have one slice of cake, just for myself, please, holy shit. and they fucking weep about it. they say you're being unfair, because some of their one-thousand-slices aren't beautiful, and your singular cake slice doesn't have their name on it. and aren't you being rude by not offering to share?

and honestly. fucking - yeah, man. you were kind of surprised, because the cake is a little basic (you bake at home, you're way past this stuff). but holy shit, it was nice just to be offered cake in the first place. you're used to having to starve. you're used to getting nothing, but going to the party anyway, because you're expected (professionally) to show up. you liked that it is a simple cake, and that it is warm, and mostly: you like that there is, for once, a cake-for-you.

in the real world, outside of metaphor, it feels like fucking being slapped. barbie didn't even say anything particularly unusual; it literally just made factually evident points. there are less women in leadership than men. we can look at that fact objectively. that is a real thing that is happening. and the movie is aware that it has to defend itself! that it has to spend like half an hour just turning to the camera and saying: i know this is hard for you to understand, but this is a real thing that women experience.

it's just - this is that one kid on the playground who thinks its allowed to hog all the toys. he builds this hoard that nobody else is allowed to even look at, or he'll get aggressive. everyone's a little scared of him, so they let it slide, because his daddy gave him the golden touch. he hates when people cry and thinks bullying is cool. he writes boys only! on a big sign and makes all his friends take "alpha male" classes.

and then girls pick up barbies, because there was nothing left for them. and in the void they've been given, with their scraps: they make long, spiraling narratives about how barbie is actually descended from snakes and has given her righteous followers magical (if concerning) powers and can speak 32 languages (2 of which are animal related) and has big plans for infrastructure (beginning with the local interstate). and the boy comes over, and he has a huge fit about how the girls aren't "including" him. he wants to know why the girls aren't making the story about ken.

"we didn't like your story." the girls blink at him. they point to his war stories and the gi joes and the millions of male-led narratives and how still in the modern day men get two-thirds of the speaking roles in movies and they point to men making mediocre shows that don't get lambasted and they point to men encouraging toxic masculinity and they point to men everywhere, men and men and men. and they say: "how is this our fault? you had ken."

"no!" he is already back to screaming and stomping his feet and tearing at his hair and intentionally reminding them that men are holding back thinly concealed violence and he says: "if it's not for me, it's actually sexism."

Custody Battle: START

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Stomach Ache Challenge: No Touching

Currently living rent-free in my head:

Having a stomach ache but being prevented from touching my stomach or touching my stomach to other things in any way to soothe the achy upset.

Various scenarios I could see this happening but something like a challenge or a command or whatever by the partner--like some twisted game where I lose if I try to quell the ache in any way. Maybe having my hands/arms bound or something to prevent me from using them. Being forbidden to be around the kitchen counters to prevent me from pressing my achy tummy against it for some comfort. Just...the idea of a stomach aching and griping (and being very vocal about it), demanding to be soothed...and being denied.

Honestly, I think I’d lose this challenge far too quickly in real life...but it’s an enticing thought.

>>THAT POLL<<

Interview with unwilling participants and why it wasn't them...

✌️✨CONGRATULATIONS ✨✌️

suspiciously big joltik

suffering goblin stickers!! Oh these poor lil guys 💚

🌟Stickers 🔗in bio!!🌟