💨: On a scale of gassiness, Peter is definitely a reticient seven. He doesn’t go around tooting his horn at all, but his Aunt May knows this (other) little secret. She thinks it’s the sweetest thing her nephew is so polite, but she always makes sure there’s Gas X, ginger ale, and mint around the house to settle his poor stomach. She also definitely makes sure Mary Jane is in on it once Peter moves out, so even at ESU, he’s well stocked with remedies for his tummy troubles. MJ is super subtle about it, making sure he doesn’t realize she knows until he’s ready to tell her (mostly because he’d be mortified if he know his aunt told his crush all about how he’s not actually an avid tuba player, and in fact has never even owned the instrument). Peter’s actually more shy with friends and family than strangers, mostly because he finds his loud gas so embarrassing, but also because he doesn’t want to worry anyone with his stomach problems.

🫘: Peter and beans have a dangerous, odiferous affair going. He knows he shouldn’t touch them in any form, but in one of the culinary capitals of the world, how can he resist refried beans, bean dip, bean chips, and all the forms it takes that have Peter swinging home tooting like a tugboat? They just smell so good going in? How can they stink so much coming out? Yes, they require a retreat to a fortress of solitude (his bedroom at May’s, the dorm room at peak party times so Harry’s out, or his apartment), but the taste makes it worth it. He pines, he perishes (mostly because he’s a little afraid Triple J will declare Spidey a gaseous menace).

😳: When you’re gassy like Peter, you definitely have a few embarrassing farts in your memory banks. But there only one that can be decreed the worst.

It was Peter’s first college party at ESU, in the extreme ostentatious Alpha Mu Pi mansion on campus. The place was cavernous, with no doors clearly marked and most of the freshman being as clueless to the layout as he was. This was very bad, because his nerves had driven him to packing in the chips and bean dip abandoned in the corner. And after about fifteen chips, Peter’s stomach was bubbling. He was sure it was brewing something nasty.

His lack of direction led him to a door another random guy thought might be the bathroom. Instead, as Peter flung the door open and saw two guys making out, he let out a *BBBBBBRRRRRRbbbbbblllllrllllrllrllllllBBBBB!* that rang out louder than the music pumping on the stereo. Everyone was looking at him, including the gay couple, one of whom happened to be Rodney Worth, the starting quarterback who just transferred from Crofton University.

Peter and his fart had just accidentally outed the quarterback to a packed frat party. For weeks, he hung his head in shame, especially as the news hit the school paper. He not only embarrassed himself, he’d ruined some poor guy’s life (I’m partly picturing the Spideyverses of the past films, so it’s technically always the 2000s/early 2010s in their universe; i.e. Rodney would NOT be in for a fun time). He finally sighed, gathered up his courage, and went to Rodney to apologize.

He found Rodney under a tree in the quad, openly reading James Joyce to his boyfriend. “Can I talk to you, Rodney,” Peter asked nervously. The broad shouldered football player nodded and stood up, following Pete a few steps away.

“I’m really sorry for outing you,” Peter said. “It was an accident, but I know that doesn’t make things better, so I’m just plain sorry that the news spread so much, and-”

“Sorry,” Rodney said, perplexed. “I’ve been wanting to thank you. I’m finally free to be who I am, and fuck anyone who thinks badly of it. Because of you, I’m not burdened by any secrets. I’m gay and proud.”

“Oh,” Peter said, surprised. “Well, that’s great. I’m glad there was a positive side for you.”

“Do me a favor, though,” Rodney asked with a grin. “Lay off the bean dip, okay?”

❤️: Peter was downright terrified to fart in front of MJ. He was afraid one toot would be the thing to make her snap out of dating him and remember him as a geeky neighbor boy instead of a boyfriend. He held it pretty steadfastly…until one night when they end up on the coach together watching a movie - and the popcorn mixed in his belly with the bean chips he ate as a quick snack. Peter shifted, ready to head for the bathroom - just as she rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arm around his waist. She looked up at him, and her eyes made him want to melt. “I’m so glad we get a night to ourselves,” she said. “No urgent crimes to interrupt, no crazy missions, or jacked up supervillains. Just you and me.”

“Same,” Peter squeaked, his voice breaking from nerves.

“Are you alright,” MJ asked. “You look kinda feverish. Can you still get sick?”

“I’m fine,” Peter protested. “Just…happy. Content. Can’t believe how lucky I am.”

“Yeah…okay,” MJ said. “If you’re sure.”

“Sure as shootin’,” Peter heard himself say, and blushed. Where the hell did come from? At least his embarrassing little problems is under wraps-

*PrrrrrooooooBLLLPBLLPBLLP!*

“Oh, God, MJ, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I-”

“Finally showed me your tuba playing,” MJ snarked, giggling.

Peter pouted. “Just for that, I’m gonna point out you toot in your sleep,” he groused.

“Aw, Pete,” she said. “Is it really bad? There’s some ginger ale in the fridge I can get you.”

“…Okay,” Peter agreed. “But if I have to fart more, will you still cuddle me?”

“Duh,” MJ said. “Just stand up if you have to shoot webs out of your butt, because I just bought this couch from Pottery Barn.”

“…I love you,” he said, giving her puppy dog eyes. “And I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sor- Oh, my God, that’s vile! Talk about silent but violent. Apology accepted! …Now come back here, I’m cold.”

🤢: Peter is very easily grossed out by certain people’s farts. Certain people being Flash Thompson on a power trip farting in his general direction. Other than that example of fart torture (not really my scene), Peter is sorta ambivalent to farts. Well, the one exception is when he sneaks up on criminals and one of them farts in surprise. That cracks him up. He’s definitely as much of a worrier as his friends are about him, and happily give out tummy rubs and forehead kisses to any of his girlfriends who are gassy for whatever reason, but especially period cramps.

behold! a very quick tutorial (not really) by someone who has never made a tutorial before!

you want to make your techno friend shaped? when in doubt just remember that he is piggy and you can never go wrong

Here ya go!

😳: With there being two sides to this coin, there’s two reactions to being gassy. Bruce is embarrassed by it, but can rationalize his embarrassment away and laugh it off. His go-to is to shrug and say, “Well, the nitrogen in me really wanted out” or “Pardon my flatus for being so noisy” or some other scientific joke. Hulk, on the other hand, is mortified when it happens, mostly because it’s so large and loud and can disturb entire crowds like a wave of stink from a waste barge off Staten Island in a heat wave.

For Bruce, his most embarrassing moment was a fart during a presentation on the properties of methane in middle school, but Hulk’s was definitely worse.

Bruce had grabbed a Fiber One bar right before Tony called the Avengers to assemble for a routine field trip/tour of the facility by some upstate elementary schoolers. Things went well, Bruce managed to go Hulk without any dangerous rage being unleashed (other than him crushing a stack of papers in the disposal pile), and the kids were very impressed (as was their very cute teacher).

Hulk was too distracted to notice an overexcited first grader trying to go for a climb up his back. Pulling the back of Hulk’s shorts could have lead to worse consequences for the kid (like being swatted clear across the room like an annoying bug). But what happened was still pretty bad.

*RRRRRRRRVVVVVRRRRRPPPT!*

The kid let go, gagging for fresh air, as the Avengers nearby and the assembled students coughed as if someone released tear gas.

(Even Tony, in his suit, but his coughing was really him trying not to burst out laughing.)

😳: Clint’s known Laura way longer than anyone realizes. In fact, they were college sweethearts. They survived a lot even before S.H.I.E.L.D. In fact, Clint is pretty sure any woman who’d tolerate the center part he had freshman year is definitely high quality. But by their junior year at Georgetown, there’s one little test she hasn’t passed yet. Mostly because for the last two years, Clint had a dorm room down the hall to run to. But this year, they’ve moved off campus - to Dupont Circle. And while his other friends are off-campus, they could afford to live closer to school, unlike him and Laura (mostly because they didn’t want a third roommate to third wheel on the cohabitational bliss).

Clint really wished that they went for that third roommate. Or maybe a dog. At twenty years old, the freshman fifteen followed by the protein shake/weight lifting/gaining and cutting of sophomore year has left him with a much more sensitive stomach. I mean, who knew Italian food had gassy properties? Not Clint a mere two years ago.

This is not, in fact, a story of love, or at least gentle laughter, conquering flatulence. This is not the story of Clint’s first fart in front of Laura, although it is directly connected. No, this is a story of a much greater humiliation, one that takes years to unfold into the hideous memory Clint cringes over.

After a little too much chicken alfredo, Clint announced he was going for a smoke. This being the days when smokers weren’t necessarily dealbreakers for the majority of the non-smoking population, Laura thought nothing of it, or the fact that she could swear Clint quit smoking when he went on that health kick, and that his lack of cigarette purchases aided them in renting an apartment. It was a hard habit to break, and hey, his half of the rent was always on time.

Clint clenched himself on the elevator ride down and out the door, until he finally walked into the alleyway behind the apartment. He let out a deep breath. “Shit,” he muttered, and let out a *PPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRBBBBBBBBBBBBBBPPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!* He grinned in relief, and chuckled. “Some of my best work,” he muttered.

Then someone behind him coughed. Clint slowly turned around to see a black man with a eyepatch walking a brown labradoodle. “You need to be more aware of your surroundings, kid. You thought you were alone, right,” the man says. “‘Cause you weren’t. I’ve been here since you rushed into that alley looking suspicious as all hell. You need to use your senses more. Watch your own back.”

“Uh, okay,” Clint said, feeling his neck turn as red as his face. “Thanks for the advice, sir.” The lack of street smarts combined with, quite frankly, the worst fart he’d ever done had Clint prepared for another move.

The man in the eyepatch tsked and walked on, before adding an “Ugh.”

Two minutes later, Clint came back in the apartment, lifted his leg, let out a *BRUT!* and told a mildly surprised Laura, “I’m not leaving the house for that anymore. Get used to it, babe.”

Tw: very, very negligible mention of scat

💨: Cap’s the king of silent farts. After all, the smell may be awful, but his butt making noise on top of that? Oh, God, please bury him alive, and not in ice. He definitely farts a healthy amount, although color him shocked (and relieved) when he learns fifteen is the average instead of eight. He definitely tries to only pass gas in a restroom or in bed alone (he really would find it impolite in his own living room, because it may offend a surprise guest if they should knock on his door shortly after he releases).

🫘: Dairy is totally his weakness. And considering lactose intolerance wasn’t researched heavily until a decade after he froze, Cappie was still eating dairy and accepting the consequences because “dairy is an important food group.” Stark made him get checked out after witnessing the “after effects” on a public restroom during a team Friendly’s run. The lactase Cap was prescribed helped the bathroom issues, but not the toxic fog his silent but deadlies leave behind.

😳: Cap really is embarrassed anytime it happens in front of people, even if he gets away with a silent fart, because he knows what he did. He has too many embarrassing moments to pick from with this attitude. Ones in the running include:

The time he had to fart for the doctors to leave the hospital because his digestive capabilities were being tested post-unfreezing

The time he had too much macaroni and cheese and allegedly “made his sheets rise” according to Bucky and his other bunk mates

The Friendly’s run (where the other men in the restroom fled, making Tony come in to check on him) (and where Clint recalls hearing a *SPPPPLLLLOOORT* all the way back at their table)

The time Peggy gave him bum a little squeeze (because 40s propriety is keeping no one away from America’s ass) and he let out a raunchy *FRRRRBBBBBBBBBBBT!* that made him curl up into the fetal position and hide his face in his lap until she finally coaxed him away from a near panic attack

😳🤢🦸

😳: Depends on the situation, so definitely a five out of ten on the embarrassment scale. He’s definitely most comfortable with Rocket and Gamora. He’s definitely more uncomfortable around anyone who presents themselves as a dignitary and anyone who could pose a serious threat and hasn’t revealed what allegiances they have. If they’re a villain who’s trying to gauge what his weaknesses are, Quill definitely doesn’t want them to note down “gassy”, which in turn makes him wary of people offering him food. Probably with significantly better reason than being embarrassed, to be fair.

(Edit)

His most embarrassing moment was definitely trying to demonstrate a flying kick he taught himself (or saw in Deathsport) to the others. He raised his leg, and readied himself to let out a wicked awesome battle cry as he leapt. Except instead of shouting “Death is on tonight’s menu!”, he let out a long *Pppppllllllllllrrrrtthhhhhhhhhh*, which resulted in the others dying laughing, Quill slinking off, and then sulking to Gamora about no one taking him seriously for an hour while she tried not to picture what just happened and crack up again. She ended up breaking, and laughing so hard she farted herself, and while it was unintentional, it definitely cheered Quill up.

🤢: As Star Lord, Quill encounters a ton of different species of sentient beings. Unlike Rick and Morty, he hasn’t encountered sentient farts. But dear God, Howard the Duck and every other Duck alien he’s met is the absolute worst after gluten free bread. They have a fucked up reverse gluten intolerance, and the majority of them think suddenly quacking is a good enough solution to cover things up. It’s not. The smell of rotting meat, pond scum and a little bit of mold is a smell Peter has actually vomited from, and he still has a tendency to gag when it happens, diplomacy be damned. (Then, he’s usually the one who forgot about their reverse celiac’s to begin with, so in a way, it’s karma.) (Star Lord Sez: ‘Stream the Brit Smith version from 2012.’)

😳: Highly depends on the company, but he can go from a -12 to a 10 on the scale. Generally, in human company, he does it deliberately to be more off putting.

In X-Men based settings, he’s less purposeful and more laissez faire, especially if there’s a group meeting on something unrelated to missions. In those cases, if he’s bored and happened to have had a chili dog earlier, he figures, “It’s a natural bodily function and Xavier will know just as much if I hold it.”

There was only one time in which Logan genuinely recalls being embarrassed by a fart. He was chopping up logs out in the woods behind the academy, when Jean confronted him about some dumb argument they’d been having about his “lack of sympathy” or some such nonsense.

They bickered as usual, until Logan noticed her eyes on him, and took the opportunity to make a smug comment that he rarely ever got to say to anyone.

“Jean,” he asked, a rare grin forming. “Are you checking me out?” (Mind you, I’m picturing the 5’2”, hairy, buff otter from the comics, not Hugh Jackman, so this truly is a golden opportunity, one he hasn’t had in a century.)

“What? What’s gotten into you,” Jean asks. “No! I’m wondering how you can be so heroic one day and the next unable to muster up a bit of caring for what a fellow mutant is going through. You-you need to apologize to Scott. Again.”

“Fine,” he says, grinning. “But I can tell you’re getting sick of him.” He figured he’d punctuate that thought with a final heave of his ax into a log. He raised the ax, swung down, halved the log…and then let out a *PRRRRUUUUUTTTTT!*, turning his ‘sexy’ showing off attempt into the most embarrassing moment of his life.

He very deliberately looked down and coughed, knowing the most truly humiliating part would be if she could tell he was blushing.

Fortunately, it seemed Jean took pity on him and didn’t acknowledge it, instead yapping his ear off for another five minutes about apologizing sincerely.