Super Silly Thought: A Really Gassy Person Referring To Their Farts As Aromatherapy."

Super silly thought: A really gassy person referring to their farts as “aromatherapy."

The reason why? Because every time they let out a large, fragrant blast and take a deep breath, they feel happy.

rb this post if you’re a nsfw blog who’s trans/nb friendly!!

gassy shopping shenanigans

self indulgent fic thing bc I'm horny and yearning for gassy dates 😮‍💨

CW: eprocto, eructo, gas in public (but any reactions of others aren't mentioned)

enjoy ✨

travelling to a new city for the weekend was just a romantic idea of yours, but with both of us being who we are it was only a matter of time before our guilty habits caught up to us. between the full English breakfast in the morning and the burritos for lunch, we're both bloated wrecks by the time we wander through the local shopping complex in the afternoon. you've been covering deep, gurgling belches the entire train ride through the city, the sounds just loud enough for me to hear behind your muffling hand, and I haven't stopped adjusting the waistband of my jeans as I try to let my swollen belly breathe. (I've already given up on my belt and taken it off entirely, shoved somewhere in my bag, and I'm considering the merits of undoing the tight button for a moment of relief.)

but the discomfort of our mutual gassiness isn't enough to make us head back to the hotel, despite the heated looks we keep shooting at each other; and besides, we're both practiced enough by now that it becomes something of a game.

it starts in a hidden corner of a clothing store, when I ask you to keep an eye out for any customers before I shift my hips and erupt in a deep, long rumbler that had clearly been held in too long. it's fortunate that the music in the store is enough to cover the not-exactly-quiet fart that leaves me panting in relief, but the stench can't be helped. you pat my swollen tummy in silent appreciation and I get to watch your face slacken as you let one rip - louder than mine, wet and pressurised. your groan of bliss leaves no doubt that you've been holding back just as much as I have, even as you part your legs and squeeze out a few more. we're both hiding giggles and blushes as we flee the scene.

in the department store, you casually glance around for onlookers before cocking a leg slightly and cutting loose, the hot rumble sounding dangerously wet in your pants. I quickly hurry us into a different area, but not before ripping a few gross ones myself as I walk away.

and it carries on. between the new and interesting stores, we find hidden moments of relief in empty aisles and quiet corners. you pull me into embraces just to bury your face in my shoulder and burp against my neck, letting me feel the tension leave your gut; I walk slowly in front of you, rubbing my stomach beneath my shirt as I browse the shelves and cropdusting with every step. as the afternoon wears on, you get bold and start groping my ass whenever we get a free moment, feeling the searing heat of the farts I blast into your palm as you massage them out. it's a miracle we don't get caught, but the shoppers carry on blissfully unaware as we secretly deal with our groaning guts.

it all comes to a head when my need for relief becomes increasingly desperate. I drag you into a fitting room to sit on your lap, back to chest, just to have something to muffle the droning rush of gas that explodes from my ass. I can't stop letting out fart after muffled fart against your crotch, sighing with each one, my belly deflating with each push. you massage my gut to help out the trapped gas, each rip getting wetter and wetter, the fabric between my ass and your lap starting to get moist. every release makes my ass flex and relax, and through the barrier of our clothes you can feel every vibration and twitch as I relieve my aching stomach. hotboxing a dressing room wasn't part of the plan for today, but at least you get three different mirrors to see my expression of relief.

there's no question that we're leaving once the worst of my gas has been released, both to escape the noxious bomb I've left inside the stall and to head to our blessedly private hotel suite to take care of our other needs, and we leave the mall without buying a damned thing. I feel a hell of a lot better on the ride back, and can't help but wondering aloud if cheesy pizza sounds like a good idea for dinner 😋

Time for a university fart thought!

Sometimes, if you call ahead to the dorm department, you can pull some strings and get a single room for specific reasons. Imagine that one student had some strings pulled to get a single dorm specifically because they have really bad gas and they don’t want to inconvenience anyone else with it. This person is honestly a little embarrassed by it, but they know they shouldn’t complain.

Imagine that someone in the double room next door can hear their neighbor through the thin walls constantly. They’re just discovering that they have a gas fetish, and they only get more flustered upon learning that oh no, their neighbor is GORGEOUS.

And THEN, imagine that, not long after these two students start a relationship, the non-gassy person's roommate drops out. To settle everything with the dorm department, the gassy student moves into the double room in the dropout’s place so that they can room with their new partner. Finally, the gassy student no longer feels embarrassed, and their farts can be fully appreciated.

Imagine an online content creator has already gained a good-sized following and a nice amount of success with their fun, honest content. They’re a chill, silly person and their work reflects that. It’s up to you whether they do things by themself, work with friends, or a mix of both.

One day, they decide to start a Patreon and, without any better ideas for initial rewards, they decide to upload “behind the scenes” videos including bloopers and what they do between takes. What no one expects is how these videos are filled with all the belches and farts this creator has to cut out of their videos. It turns out that they’re a LOT gassier than they let on, enough so that every chance they get, they have to let something out. Sometimes these bloopers are even caused by accidentally letting out something that they just couldn’t hold back.

Well. Word gets out and suddenly this content creator has a MASSIVE following for their Patreon content alone. How this creator handles this is up to your imagination.

someone who says "excuse me" like a magic phrase to get away with letting out the most revolting farts without a care. it doesn't matter where they are or who's around them, if they need to rip one they'll do so as soon as they feel the urge - and tack on a lazy "excuse me" at the end like nothing happened, even when the air is still hazy with the stench of their bowels 😵‍💫 if they say "excuse me" they're still perfectly polite, right?