#tw gas

[troubled-tums]

Part 1 of 2. Woke up over the weekend with bad cramps and gas. It’s never a good sign when you wake up to your tummy hurting right off the bat… I startled myself with how loud my gas was as I let it out too. No actual sounds aside from my voice in the video, though. I don’t think I’d post content where I’m actually letting anything out.

[enkisstories]

For nearly his whole life, Hux' self esteem had ping-ponged back and forth between arrogance and shame. Only over the course of the last year had genuine confidence replaced this mental state and today Hux was absolutely convinced that he had dominated the court proceedings. He'd walk away from this trial as a free man, albeit a couple of millions poorer for reparations, of that he was certain.

Reminder: According to his debate skill roll, that's a perfectly reasonable assumption.

When his eyesight clouded, Hux wrote that off as tiredness. The trouble he had breathing as well as the generally dizzy feeling probably heralded a cold. The night spent outside hadn't done him any good, after all.

But then the man had trouble focusing not just on his environment, but on his very own thoughts.

The greyish veil in front of his eyes was not sleepyness, it was a gas with a distinct smell, that was quickly filling the chamber. The Kubaz bailiff was unaffected and all of a sudden it struck the General why she was the only other living being in here and why everyone else had followed the trial online only:

The New Republic hadn't been interested in the trial's outcome. They had planned to gas him like a butterfly right from the start!

"You... cough... promised!"

More coughing, laboring not quite for breath already, but for coherent speech.

"Promised everyone would walk away alive from this!"

If the cameras were still recording, it was important to get this information out. Hux could still claw that victory from his enemies in publicly calling them out on their treachery.

If Rose was watching... How could they! How could anybody! This could seriously break Rose and he couldn't even utter her name, because that would compromise her same as her parentage getting revealed had destroyed Leia Solo's career.

Choking and convulsing, Hux reached for his left wrist and nestled at it. For everyone watching it seemed as if he was grasping the cuff with the aurebesh inscription that every First Order officer's uniform sported. Rose, however, would know that Armitage was wearing her armband underneath the sleeve. That would tell her what - whom! - his last thought had been about.

Everything was thus settled in an efficient and rational way. Good.

Unconsciousness came long before the end. But the very moment before passing out, Hux' pride over having acted all composed and goal-oriented in his last moments got washed away by the realisation that he should have seen this coming. But he hadn't. A fool till the end...

[highoncatfood]

DID YOU FUCKING BLOXCK ME

i told u dude dont say that shit to me ever again

[the-crazy-echidna-lady]

Hey Cuphead, for $50, I dare you to do the most obnoxious thing you can think of to annoy your brother :]

whoever smelt it, dealt it.

[decaydanceredacted]

ok i’m gonna submit this and then promptly die of shame.

i have a burp kink and i really really wanna hear patrick burp i think they’d sound really fucking hot. please don’t ask me to elaborate i already feel the self cringe making myself collapse.

.

[apollo-likes-writing]

FEBUWHUMP DAY 5: Not Trusting Reality

Character(s): Dick Grayson/Nightwing, Bruce Wayne/Batman, Jason Todd/Red Hood, Tim Drake/Red Robin, Stephanie Brown/Spoiler, Damian Wayne/Robin, Cassandra Cain/The Black Bat, Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow

Summary: Oh look, another Arkham break-out. Oh look, Scarecrow escaped. I wonder what could have happened?

Word count: 1,629 words

Author's note: This is incredibly rushed I'm sorry. When I get more time after Febuwhump I might rewrite it and actually give it deeper levels of thought.

@febuwhump

Main Masterlist | Prompt Masterlist

You know you've fucked up when the bricks of the building you're in look like their melting. You know you've really fucked up when your younger brother asks for a cigarette but, to you, he has no face to smoke it with. You know you've really, really fucked up when your family lay on the ground before you. Dead.

It’s safe to say that Dick despises Scarecrow’s fear toxin.

The alarm bells first started ringing when the Batcave received an alert from the GCPD about an Arkham break-out. Several rogues were reported missing from roll call and news outlets across the city were covering the carnage occurring. The likes of Harley Quinn, Black Mask, and the Penguin were seen running for the wind in different directions; while the Joker, Poison Ivy, and Mr. Freeze found ways to escape undetected. The latter three were a little more concerning, but there were bigger fish to fry when vast areas of Robinson Park and Upper East Side were reported to be covered in Scarecrow’s red fear toxin. You could hear the petrified screams of the affected even when standing outside the blast radius, and the gas was only spreading.

It was designated as such an emergency that Bruce called in Dick from his patrol in Bludhaven. The oldest son was only told what was happening when the Batwing’s automatic pilot system parked itself on top of a goon he was fighting at the time. His companion, Tarantula, urged him to assist his family and promised that Bludhaven would be fine without him for a night or two. He patted her on the back, gave her a cheeky thumbs up, and jumped into the Batwing and headed directly to Gotham; a trip that took a mere seven minutes.

When he arrived the aircraft set itself down on top of Wayne Tower (really Bruce? Do you even have a secret identity anymore?). He was promptly given a rebreather by Jason who gave him a rapid brief of the suspected whereabouts of Crane before jumping off the top of the tower and grappling away.

Wayne Towers has always had a spectacular view of all of Gotham. It’s part of the reason why Bruce built it in such a place. Every district, every avenue, every park can be seen from that vantage point and is a place where many of the Batfamily come after a long patrol to brood- I mean- relax. After this dreaded attack however, Dick could see that huge plume of blood-coloured gas on the other side of the river. Pressing the comm-link in his ear, he switched to the frequency the rest of the vigilantes were using to communicate and was met with the rushed and vaguely (not toxin-induced) panicked back-and-forth of his family that were announcing where they were, what was happening, and the extent of the damage.

“The gas is thickest in the centre of the Upper East Side. Getting any closer to the epi-centre won’t be easy,” Tim voiced.

“I’ve got a civilian brandishing a weapon at what looks to be their child. I need support here,” Steph responded, ignoring him for the moment.

The sound of Damian’s grunt of effort rang through. “Red Robin, I am nearby. ETA: two minutes.”

“No,” Bruce cut in. “Stay away from the epicentre for now. We can’t risk our kit malfunctioning in such a heavily concentrated area.”

“But-”

“No, Robin. Your priority is the evacuation of civilians.”

“That gas is getting dangerously close to Mercy Hospital. We may have to transfer the affected to Gotham Central,” Barbara announced.

“Copy that, Oracle,” I’ll see what I can do,” Jason stated.

This chatter continued for thirty seconds before Dick got the full picture. This was a perfect shit-storm. No wonder Bruce called him in. Off the top of his alone, there could be dozens of thousands of civilians affected. He waited for there to be a lull in the frequency before he made himself known.

“The cavalry has arrived, people. Where do you want me?”

Several exclamations of relieved “Nightwing!”’s meet his ears and he can’t help the smile growing on his face despite the circumstances.

“Glad to have you, Nightwing. Oracle, have you found Scarecrow yet?” Bruce asked.

“I have. He’s outside the gas in the Narrows. I’m picking up a large amount of electricity being sent to that location. He might have something bigger planned.”

“He just broke out of Arkham, for fuck’s sake,” Jason exclaimed. “How is he doing it?”

“Perhaps this was planned from the get-go,” Dick reasoned. “Maybe there was an authority in Arkham relaying his commands or perhaps he had a way to communicate with his goons. Either way, it makes this even more complicated.”

“You’re right, Nightwing. I need you to go to the Narrows, find Scarecrow, and stop whatever he’s got planned. Penny-One is cooking up the antidote as we speak, and Foxtrot is starting up a prototype device that may help in removing the gas.”

“Copy. Oracle, ping the location over and I’ll get there ASAP.”

“Already done.”

With that, Nightwing launched himself off Wayne Tower and made his way to the Narrows in record time. There, a decrepit warehouse stands on the outskirts. Outwardly, it looked unassuming as if it hadn’t been touched, let alone used, for years. If Oracle was correct (and she always is), Scarecrow is inside, so Dick took a deep breath, put his rebreather on, and stepped inside. That last part was carried out questionably, however, as he promptly tripped over the threshold and landed on his face, resulting in an amused chuckle from Oracle.

It was pitch black and silent after that. Deafeningly so. The air was humid and seemed to cling to his skin like sweat. Several factory-grade shelves lined the walls filled to the brim with boxes and crates. After turning on night-vision in his domino mask, he read “Crow and Co.” in large black printed letters on the sides of each and every one of them. A few taps against the side of his mask took a picture of what he saw, which was then sent to Oracle for evaluation. Apprehensive, he reached for the lid of the nearest crate and found that it was not nailed down and opened easily. With utmost caution, he stepped closer to the box and peered inside. The box was filled with dozens of empty gas canisters. After opening the crate next to it, Dick found that it carried the exact same thing. If this was the same for every box in the room, there could be thousands. Tens of thousands, even.

He was about to check a third box when he was startled by a noise. Within seconds, his escrima sticks were in his hands and facing the direction of where he thought the noise was coming from.

No-one.

What he did see was a crack of light from the ground. Nightwing inched towards it cautiously and examined what he now knew to be a trap door poorly hidden under a shelf. He took a few seconds to pray to whichever god was listening that there was no-one waiting to ambush him below and that the hinges wouldn't squeak when he opened it, and was promptly gladdened when neither happened.

“Oracle, you seeing what I'm seeing?” he whispered into his comm.

“I a-a-am. Procee- wit- cau-au-tion.” The voice of his companion was glitches and unnaturally tinny. It must have been from whatever the electricity was powering the area. Perhaps it was carrying a current to a signal blocker. He sighed and looked into the eerie orange light below him. A ladder attached itself to the side of a vertical passage that went down a few metres or so. After debating what to do for a few too many seconds, Dick decided to forego the use of the ladder and simply jumped down.

He landed in something that reminded him of the Paris Catacombs. Several corridors stretched from his position into different directions as far as the eye could see. The light around him was coming from a lit torch, which Nightwing picked up as he attempted to peer into the darkness surrounding him. The air seemed to become thicker it was difficult to breathe.

Realistically, Dick should have known by that point that something was very, very wrong. At that point, he should have realised that the fall he had at the entrance to the warehouse had broken his breathing apparatus.

He spent several days in those tunnels. Tunnels that, without anyone realising, were filled with heavily concentrated, odourless, colourless fear toxin. Dick faced dozens of the worst horrors known to man. Spiders, snakes, the deaths of his family members, asphyxiation, bursting into flames, and more tortured him into a manic frenzy. There were times when a member of the Batfamily would approach him. Sometimes it was Tim or Damian or Cass or Steph, but most of the time it was Bruce or Jason. They found him every time when his hallucinations got particularly bad. They'd crouch to his level where he would be curled up on the floor and open their arms. Not thinking clearly, he'd throw himself into them, grasping them into a hug. They'd beckon him, urge him to follow them deeper into the tunnel system, only to dissipate into a puff of smoke and terrify him further.

This happened several times. Only when Scarecrow was apprehended and the toxin was safely disposed of was he found and brought back to the Batcave. Kicking and screaming. Every time one of them appeared, Dick would scream and cry and accuse them of not truly being there, to the point where he had to be physically restrained to stop him from running away.

Yeah… Fear toxin sucks.

[fox-guardian]

[ID: A five page black and white comic featuring Anya, Jimmy, and Curly from Mouthwashing. The only colors are in their speech bubbles and Curly's blue eyes. The comic opens with a shot of a space rest stop with billboards and advertisements of food, drinks, fuel, etc.

Anya steps out of a "Polle-Mart" carrying a pack of cigarettes, and walks past Jimmy leaning against the side of the building, half in shadow.

Jimmy, smirking: A nurse with a smoking habit, huh? What has the world come to? They stare at each other for a moment. Anya: Just means I can make a more informed choice.

She goes to light a cigarette as Jimmy flicks his hand at her, asking for one. Curly jogs up behind her.

Anya, grabbing another cigarette: Ugh. Curly: Hey, guys! Mind if I bum one? I'll buy you some snacks?

He gives her big shiny puppy eyes. Anya glances in Jimmy's direction as he stares at her before she smiles at Curly, a halo over her head.

Anya: Sure, Captain! That's so sweet of you to offer. Jimmy glares at Curly. He looks at him before turning to Anya again. Curly: Er, can I make that two for two? Anya: Deal.

She passes him the pack as she lights her cigarette before lighting his for him. Curly goes over to Jimmy, handing him one as Anya stands around the corner to smoke hers.

Jimmy: You hit my fucking cig. Curly, smiling: I started it for you!

The last panel shows all three of them smoking calmly, Jimmy and Curly both shadowing by the building.

end ID]

~~~~

a cigarette break between coworkers off the clock

[urban-shade]

normal activities in sebastians shop

[lemorgo]

playing around at 2 am

[es0tericdoll]

Sadly I’m always to much

[bifidokxd]

TW BRAT BLOOD BRAT GUTS

💚💚💚

[troubled-tums]

Had a frozen lasagna meal last night from the supermarket. Quite tasty, but also upset my tummy quite a bit. Woke up with a painful, bloated lower belly that I had to relieve right away - headed for the toilet and doubled over, just holding my aching gut as I pushed to try and get it out. I could tell I wasn’t done when I finished, though, so I went and had a coffee.

That did the trick… somewhat. Went and let loose again a second time, palming my upset tum and rubbing it hard to try and get it out before I left for work. Then mid morning, I felt as though I had to go again - and I did. More poured out of me painfully. Thankfully it stopped after lunch. I felt like I needed to go again, but it was just gas and a bit of a residual crampy feeling.

[gorextoy]

need to be kissed and caressed like his little baby, letting him wipe my tears as I melt into him again, becoming addicted to the bruises and screams he’d created not even a minute ago. ♡

+ body pic since I had a stressful day and haven’t got to dm’s👗

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

Yeah tell me Forbes aren't we ready for the MiXed-wEiGHt ReLAtioNshIP???

Or aren't we ready to

✨Let the women fucking live in their bodies like it's nobody's business✨

[raaindropps]

One cannot apologize for something fundamental

[ID: A digital drawing of Hikaru Indou and Lord Brainsnatcher disguised as Hikaru from Hikaru ga Shinda Natsu. The original Hikaru is laying down with his shirt mostly off, while Lord Brainsnatcher crouches over him and looks at the camera.

Brainsnatcher's face is almost entirely made of his insides, going down and entering a large hole in Hikaru's torso. Hikaru's intestines are spilling out and merge with the insides as well. The drawing is in bright light, casting a harsh shadow behind the two. /End ID]

[decaydanceredacted]

The thought of Patrick eating so much food and he becomes so gassy throughout the night <3 He cant hold it even if he tried <3 Im gross sorry <3

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