#hunger kink
Damn hungry lady!!
It’s time to fuck
Horngry Meg
Swallow those babies, Meg
Janet’s pretty hungry
You know she’s horngry when she’s grabbing her gut while it’s growling
Danielle Panabaker getting horngry on a take
Horngry Team Rocket
Too horngry to sleep
The Hunter’s Dilemma
Author’s Note: Huh?? A drabble?? After 4 months of promising I’d write one?? Absolutely bonkers!!!
Real shit though I’m not sure what I was putting off, because it only took me like two days to write this lol. I hope y’all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!!
TW - Hunger/starvation, animal death
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Autumn had begun.
It was a beautiful season, when the world began to turn from the warm, lethargic summer days into cooler, but still relatively calm autumn days. On days like this, most folks would have liked to spend it curled up by a fire with a good book and a warm drink.
Azeban, however, was not most folks.
Azeban had a lot of books, but he wasn’t exactly literate, so he couldn’t read any of them. And much less could he do so by a roaring fire, which he was deathly afraid of. Instead, Azeban was spending his day hunting for a meal.
After summer ended, all the fruit that grew in the forest died off and he had to rely on hunting to feed himself. For the first few weeks he’d been able to catch animals pretty frequently, but as the temperatures started to drop and people from the nearby town came into the woods to do their own hunting, he faced a bit of competition.
And it certainly didn’t help that any hunter that spotted him would likely try to put an arrow in his chest, too.
So Azeban was on high alert, for both food and hunters. And today, he’d fortunately run across food first.
He stopped short when he spotted a doe grazing in a small alcove of trees, and he crouched down, his tail waving back and forth expectantly as he waited for the moment when the animal was completely distracted, so he could go in and catch it without too much of a chase.
The deer turned away to nibble on another patch of grass, and that was his cue.
Azeban sprung out of the bushes and towards the doe, but she reacted quickly, darting off into the woods as soon as Azeban began moving towards her. So it would be a chase. But that was okay, so long as he was able to actually catch her. A chase without a meal at the end would just be lost energy, and he couldn’t quite afford to lose any more considering how long he’d gone without some proper food.
But the chase wasn’t turning out in his favor. The doe was quick, and Azeban couldn’t quite keep up with her enough to reach out and grab her. Maybe he had less energy than he thought, because he quickly found himself growing sluggish.
Fortunately he didn’t have to run for much longer after his muscles started aching, as the deer had led him to the edge of the woods where she effortlessly hopped into a pasture, entirely in view of the two farmhouses nearby. Azeban stopped short right at the edge of the woods, not daring to go out in the open during daytime. That was nothing but a death sentence.
He kept his eyes on the deer as he crouched in the brush and caught his breath, frowning when his stomach groaned noisily after a burst of running and no food to show for it. Resolved that the deer probably wouldn’t be leaving the pasture anytime soon, Azeban sat against a tree and placed his hand against his belly.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think we can eat this deer. She’s very smart.” He informed his tummy, which only grumbled dejectedly. He had a bit of a habit of talking to his stomach, especially since there was nobody else around to talk to or listen.
Azeban looked back up for the deer, but was confused when he saw that it wasn’t there anymore. He looked back and forth quickly before he saw a young boy running towards the pasture, a bow in his hand and an arrow in the deer, which he hadn’t seen because it had been shot to the ground.
“Pa! I got it!” He called back to someone else, and Azeban only watched quietly when another man came over to the deer and clapped the boy on the shoulder.
“She’s a beauty! That’s gotta be a few days wortha meat right there, nice clean shot too. She wasn’t in no pain.” He assured the boy, reaching down and tugging the arrow out of the carcass. Azeban could only watch hungrily as the man hoisted what could have been his meal up onto his shoulder, and for a moment he contemplated just walking into the clearing and scaring the two enough to give up the deer.
But he didn’t want to do that, especially not after Azeban saw how proud the boy was of the fact that he’d caught dinner. So he got up and walked off, despite the fact that his stomach was loudly protesting the decision to go home empty-handed.
He’d find something else to hunt tomorrow.
Bringing back my first piece of writing for Azeban before I write Cecil’s little introductory drabble :0
By My Side (Part 2)
Fandom: The Moomins (1990)
Ship: Snufmin (Heavily Implied)
Content Advisory: Hunger, stomach growling, caretaking, stomachaches
Read part one here!https://hungry-tum-stuff.tumblr.com/post/685368609293336576/by-my-side-part-1
Snufkin woke up with Moomin’s arms around him.
For a moment he was disoriented; it was winter, right? Why was he at Moominhouse? As he began to wake up and get his bearings, the days leading up to hibernation quickly came back to him. Moomin and Snufkin had arranged to travel together in the spring, and instead of his annual journey south, Snufkin had agreed to stay the winter so he had the energy to travel after winter.
But if he was awake, did that mean hibernation was over already? Perhaps it had gone by much quicker than he’d thought.
That couldn’t be it though; his ears twitched as he picked up the sound of the wind still howling outside, and upon titling his head his suspicions were quickly confirmed: A blizzard was roaring just beyond the walls, and in this moment Snufkin couldn’t be more grateful for Moomin’s warmth pressing right up against him as he slept soundly. Snufkin spared him a glance and smiled before closing his eyes once again, content to go back to sleep until winter had finished her rampage on the valley.
But just as soon as he did, Snufkin’s stomach growled ferociously.
Sothat’s why he’d woken up. As filling as Moominmama’s Hibernation Feast had been, he’d had an inkling that it wouldn’t last him the entire winter. Mumriks weren’t made to hibernate after all.
Snufkin frowned and pressed a hand into his stomach as it panged hungrily, feeling the usual softness of his belly sink into itself now that it was empty. How long had he been asleep, anyways? Snufkin looked at Moomin’s stopped clock on the wall in vain: He certainly felt like he’d slept more than a day, he still had that same lingering tiredness that stuck around when one slept longer than they usually did. But it was hard to tell if winter was anywhere near being over. If this was the very last stretch of the brutal season, then Snufkin figured he might as well try to stick out the last leg of hibernation on an empty stomach.
His stomach moaned a complaint at the thought. While that would certainly be unpleasant, it would be even more unpleasant if he’d woken up near the very beginning of hibernation, and he had to go rifling around Moominhouse for another feast that could sate him through a good portion of the hibernation season. Which meant he’d have to periodically wake up to eat. Which meant he’d wake up absolutely famished each time.
Snufkin wrapped his arms around his aching belly, his tail flicking as he considered the little predicament he was in. When his stomach voiced its complaints once again, he didn’t need much more convincing to get up and go find something to eat.
Except, he couldn’t.
Moomin had Snufkin locked in his embrace.
“Oh dear…” He breathed, trying carefully to push Moomin’s arms off of him and slip out of his hold without waking the troll. But it seems that Moomin was intent on keeping Snufkin as his snuggle buddy this winter, because as soon as Snufkin began moving to make his escape, Moomin only readjusted his hold on the mumrik and pulled him closer to his body in an inescapably tight hug.
“That’s just like you, to want me to stay…” Snufkin sighed in mock annoyance before wincing as his tummy grumbled desperately. It slowly began dawning on Snufkin that he may just have to wake Moomin and actually ask him to get up. The thought alone was terrifying, but it was just as horrid to think of what would become of him if he didn’t get something to eat. “As much as I’d love to keep cuddling with you Moomin, I’ve got to get up… I fear I may waste away if I don’t.” He joked idly, which unsurprisingly garnered no response from the sleeping Moomintroll. Instead, Snufkin’s stomach only rumbled an angry response.
“Oh, hush you…” He whispered, his tail flicking nervously. In the very least, if he couldn’t wake Moomin up, then his tummy sure would. Moomin was holding Snufkin firmly against him, but embarrassingly enough, his paws were resting around Snufkin’s middle; right where his stomach was. “Please don’t startle Moomin awake… Though, I’m not sure anyone could, he’s sound asleep.” The mumrik informed his stomach with a wry smile before snaking his tail beneath Moomin’s snout and tickling his nose. While it earned him an unintelligible mumble, the other was still nowhere near being awake.
“Well, this is rather hopeless…” Snufkin sighed, leaning back into Moomin’s soft fur and closing his eyes. “I will admit that I’ve never been more well-rested, but I don’t believe I’ll be able to adventure with you in the spring if I’ve withered away to skin and bone. So if you could wake up and let me go, I’d be very grateful.” He spoke softly, despite the fact that Moomin was far too deep in his slumber to hear him. However, Moomin was awake enough to feel Snufkin’s stomach growling against his hand.
“Snufkin…?” The Mumrik nearly jumped out of his skin as Moomin started to rouse, his voice still bleary with sleep. “Are you awake?”
“Ah, yes, I apologize if I woke you up.” He said, twisting within Moomin’s arms so that his upper half was facing the troll. Moomin just shook his head and blinked a few times, his big blue doe eyes looking around for a moment before they landed back on Snufkin.
“No, you didn’t. At least, I don’t think you did, I’m not sure what woke me-“ He was promptly cut off when Snufkin’s stomach roared emptily. Moomin’s eyes widened, a hint of worry beginning to creep into his features. “…up. Oh Snufkin, you sound like you’re starving!” He exclaimed, patting Snufkin’s tummy where his paws were resting. “How long have you been awake?” Moomin finally loosened his his grip on Snufkin to sit up.
“Not long at all, you haven’t got to worry over me… How long have we been asleep anyways?” He asked, resting his own hands on his aching stomach and hoping his question would divert Moomin’s attention away from it.
“Two weeks.” Moomin pointed over to the clock, where the hour hand was stopped at two. Ah, so the clock wasn’t stopped, it had just been cranked to count the twelve weeks of winter. “Gosh, no wonder you’re so hungry…” Moomin took the opportunity to rest their own paws on Snufkin’s stomach, gently rubbing the slightly sunken space beneath his ribs.
“Well, at least now I know how long I can hibernate for.” Moomin’s methodical rubbing loosened up a long string of hungry grumbles, causing Snufkin’s face to flush in embarrassment. “Which isn’t very long… We’re not even halfway through the winter.”
“Oh, now that doesn’t matter Snufkin. You haven’t eaten a thing in two weeks, so I’d say you’re more than in need of a snack.” Moomin climbed out of bed and took Snufkin’s hands, pulling him up and along with him. “Come on, lets get something in that tummy. I remember Mama storing some smoked fish in the cellar before hibernation.” He recalled, causing the mumrik’s stomach to rumble expectantly.
“I could certainly go for some fish.”
Homesick
Fandom/Media: The Moomins (1990)
Content Advisory: Hunger Kink, hunger due to not having easy access to food, stomach growling, hunger pangs, tummy talking
“Do you really have to leave now, Snufkin?” Moomin asked, hesitant to let go of the mumrik’s hands as they stood together on the bridge. As much as Snufkin didn’t want to let go of the moomintroll’s hands, autumn had come to a close. The first winter chill was crisp in the air and Snufkin had prepared to take his annual trip south, and there wasn’t much that could deter him.
No matter how big or how sad Moomin’s eyes got.
“I’m afraid so” Snufkin finally responded. The two boys looked up to the sky after they noticed snowflakes beginning to float down around them, and the mumrik could only smile and give his friend’s hands a squeeze before letting go.
“And I believe that’s my cue. I’ll be back on the first day of spring, Moomin, same as always” He assured, turning tail as Moomin nodded and sadly watched him begin down the path south.
“Right. I’ll be waiting right here for when you get back, Snufkin! Mama will have a big lunch ready for when you get back!” He insisted, as if enticing Snufkin to hurry back when spring finally arrived.
Fortunately, Snufkin never needed to be convinced to return to Moominvalley.
Instead, during his first few days of travel, Snufkin had to convince himself not to turn around and head back to the safety of Moominhouse.
•
Over the years, Snufkin had grown increasingly more aware of the fact that his time spent in the gentle cradle of Moominvalley had spoiled him. To an extent, of course. He figured himself to be rather competent; he lived on his own, he fished and cooked for himself, but competency didn’t account for days when the fish just didn’t bite, or there simply wasn’t a single thing to forage.
So when he was struck with such misfortune, he knew that he could always fall back on Moominmama’s cooking. But, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t taken her up on her frequent meal offers simply because he, and his stomach, were a bit too impatient to wait around for a fish to bite. Moominmama’s cooking had become something he’d often found himself craving, and even when fishing was good he wouldn’t pass up a chance to help Moominmama in the kitchen. He was one of the only few in Moominvalley who actually knew how to cook, after all.
In times like these, that luxury was sorely missed.
Snufkin had been sent on his way with food, of course. Moominmama’s apple tarts had been tucked into his bag on the day he shoved off, and Snufkin had every intention to save them for a rainy day. But after a full day of travel and not much luck fishing during his first evening, he resigned to treating himself to one or two of those heavenly pastries to tide him over until he could catch a substantial meal.
At least, he would have, had someone not stolen them from his bag.
“Hey, get back here!” The thief was already a flash of red and green in the trees within the second of Snufkin realizing his camp had been ransacked, and although he tried to give chase, they seemed to have disappeared into thin air as soon as they left the clearing. There wasn’t even a set of footprints to follow in the fresh snow, they simply vanished. After a few minutes of fruitless searching, Snufkin hurried back to camp to assess the damages.
And to his horror, Moominmama’s apple tarts were gone.
“Oh, no” He breathed aloud, wincing as his stomach gave an expectant growl for the food that should have been there. He frantically dug through the rest of his belongings, which seemed to all be there, except for the food, of course. He plopped down in a snowbank, and as his belly pleaded with him once more, he just wrapped his arms around it and glared at the thief’s set of footprints in the snow; his tail flicking in agitation.
The sun was hardly piercing the thick veil of the trees anymore, which meant he’d be going to sleep on an empty tummy.
But, he could handle that. Surely there’d be fish to catch tomorrow.
But apparently, he’d been too hopeful.
Packing up his temporary camp and moving south, which was further down the little stream he’d been following, had not been fun. Sleeping on an empty stomach had been bad enough, but walking had just drained him. So by the time lunchtime rolled around, Snufkin was more than eager to settle down and cast his line in the water. This time with his belongings in his line of sight.
But nothing was biting.
Snufkin must have re-baited his hook about a dozen times and tried out different spots where the stream slowed down, where there was a rock the fish might be hiding around, anything to make his efforts worthwhile. He was tempted to just climb into the stream and grab a fish with his bare hands, but upon sticking his hand in the water to test how good of an idea that would be, it quickly became evident why the fish weren’t biting.
It had gotten too cold too fast.
Snufkin set his fishing pole down with a defeated sigh and cupped his hands to take a much-needed drink from the stream, which only sloshed uncomfortably into his empty stomach and made it gurgle furiously, demanding something more substantial.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized as he settled to lean against a tree, his hands resting against his grumbling, achy gut. “There isn’t going to be much food in the north now that the weather’s turned so suddenly, anything good would be two or three days south out of the snow…” He reasoned aloud with his stomach, which only coiled up in a tight cramp. He grunted and pressed a hand further into his belly, now a bit more yielding rather than pleasantly soft after a day and a half of being empty. He stayed curled in on himself for a few moments as his stomach continued to cramp painfully, only to release in a terribly hollow-sounding groan that Snufkin could feel rumbling through the fabric of his cloak.
“Well, there’s not much I can do about that…” He murmured, rubbing his tummy in slow, careful circles. He knew he should have eaten breakfast before he left. Maybe he should listen to Moomin more often; the other had suggested he’d wait until after dinner to leave instead of hitting the road at the crack of dawn.
Maybe then he wouldn’t be as hungry as he is now, and maybe then Moominmama’s apple tarts wouldn’t have gotten stolen.
And maybe he was still close enough to Moominvalley to head back for a proper meal.
He shook the thought from his head; he’d already said all his goodbyes, and he couldn’t bear the thought of having to leave Moomin behind a second time this winter. In his current state, he may very well give in and stay the winter with the moomintroll…
But he couldn’t. The only reasonable option was to press on south, so Snufkin grabbed his fishing pole and stood up to gather the rest of his things.
He had a long walk ahead of him.
