#maybe it's just a sensory thing

[nostalgiaclown]

Okay this is maybe a bit silly but I've always been a little insecure about my height and yes it's a fictional character don't @ me but I like knowing Emmrich is tall...

Proceeds to make my two Emmrich romance Rooks - one super short and one super tall

Anyway, I love my bean pole wife

[mutable-manifestation]

Summer Vacation Summoning Shenanigans 2

idk when the batcave gets a Laz pit but the answer here is ‘not yet’ bc reasons

***

By the time Danny’s duplicate returns to him, Robin has finished - very thoroughly - tying up his captive ninja. And was now staring him down.

Red had moved to texting someone after ensuring Danny was belted in and putting the plane on some kind of autopilot - which, very cool.

He hadn’t been bored, though, looking over the plane interior with glee. 

While the exterior design was…a bit much, the inside was sleek and high-tech. It was no rocketship, but going over which controls were similar and which differed and trying to guess what they all did was plenty entertaining.

He was less than half-way through them when he re-merged with his duplicate. 

Luckily, Red and Robin were still occupied by that point, giving him time to focus on sifting through the memories.

He tries to stifle his laughter, disguising an escaped snort by pretending to cough into his fist.

Red apparently chooses that moment to be done with his phone (and damn, he sent some poor sob a book).

“Sorry about that; I had to update Batman.”

Danny let himself laugh at that.

“Bat-man? Not, like, Birdman or something?”

“Nope, the bat himself. Speaking of which; I was hoping you’d be willing to answer some questions?”

Robin chose that moment to plop into the seat next to Danny, who looked at him in askance.

“His vitals have stabilized; the tranquilizer has fully kicked in. There is no more need to worry about a surprise escape; by the time he awakes we will be back in Gotham.”

Danny hummed.

“So like, are you just dropping him off first? Or was the ‘taking me home’ thing a play on words that actually just meant ‘kidnapping me take 2: electric boogaloo?’ I mean, you don’t even know where I live; my place could be closer to here than to Gotham.”

“Your accent resembles nothing of Nanda Parbat,” Robin says.

Red picks up after him. 

“No, no, we’re taking you back to your home,” he clarifies, shaking his head and x-ing his arms. “You’re from somewhere in the mid-western United States, right? Gotham is the first US city we’d hit flying this path.”

“Illinois,” he answers, squinting in thought as he searches his memory for a ‘Gotham’ or a ‘Nanda Parbat,’ which, ha, ‘Par-bat.’ “I take it we’re somewhere in, like, Europe or something?”

The Robins share a look.

“Where is the last place you remember being before you were kidnapped?” Red asks.

“Illinois,” Danny shrugs, settling back in his seat. “Anyway, you can just drop me near Chicago or something and I’ll take it from there.”

Red huffs a laugh. “No need for that. I gave Batman your name and description; he’ll have coordinates to where you need to go in no time.”

“Well, that’s…” ‘Inconvenient,’ he thinks to himself, hoping for the first time that this is actually a different universe so he doesn’t have to come up with an explanation to cover for how he somehow ended up abroad without including the whole ‘being summoned’ thing.

The last thing he needs is to give them a reason to put him through the Ghost Catcher.

“...nice,” he settles on. Unconvincingly.

“Do you know why you were taken?” Robin presses.

Danny opens his mouth to answer, but pauses.

“Yep!” he concludes, eyes crinkling with his smile. “I’ll even answer that question if you answer one of mine first.”

The smaller Robin narrows his eyes suspiciously, Red asking “What question?”

He turns away from Normal Robin to look at Red Robin.

“What’s up with the ‘flying things’ theme?”

Red slow blinks, Danny can practically hear the dial-up noise.

He was probably expecting worse in exchange for ‘hey what does the murder club want?’

The smaller Robin answers while he is collecting himself.

“The Robin title is inherited, passed down from the first. It is a reference to the costume colors. Batman chose his name and costume as a symbol of fear, to intimidate the criminals of Gotham.”

“Oooooh, so it’s like a gang thing!”

Red Robin makes a choking noise.

“What!? NO! I- that- we’re heroes! Batman is a founding member of the Justice League!” He manages, face painted in disbelief. 

Robin, for his part, remains silent - though a brief glance out of the corner of his eyes reveals a pinched expression.

“Oh, right,” he nods along, deciding he is definitely not still in the same universe. Sweet, no worries about hiding the ghost powers then, especially since heroes were apparently enough of a thing to have some kind of support group or something.

“So does that mean you have bird-powers?”

“No,” Robin says. “And you haven’t answered my question yet.”

“Ah, right, Ra’s’ thing. He said he was trying to summon the ‘Lord of the Dead,’” Danny does air quotes along with the far-too-pretentious-title. Honestly, ‘Ghost King’ was bad enough.

“The ‘Lord of the Dead?’” Red echoes. “Summon? As in, with circles and blood-sacrifices and magic.”

“Yep,” Danny pops the p. “I wouldn’t worry too much though. He’ll probably be distracted trying to un-kidnap this guy and deal with whatever had his other guys running around like chickens with their heads cut off for a while yet.”

---------------------

Tim had left a call open to the batcave so the rest could listen in, and after Danny’s incredibly alarming answers about Ra’s’ current goal it was no doubt exploding with texts and suggestions in the groupchat. Good thing he muted it fully.

He feels a bit bad interrogating the guy, but time and memory don’t go well together. People often dismiss as unimportant things that are actually the key to breaking a case; the more thorough their questions, the more likely they prompted a memory that would give them the answers they needed.

Unfortunately, Danny didn’t seem to know much.

“Did Ra’s say anything about who this ‘Lord of the Dead’ is? Or why they were trying to summon him?”

“Nope!” Danny smiled. “Nothing about - who aside from the title, of course - or why, just that they did want to summon him. If you guys don’t have bird powers, what powers do you have?”

“We are not enhanced beyond what the average healthy human could achieve, though we are all highly trained in combat - some more than others - and skilled in detective work. We rely on skill, research, and preparation.”

And on and on; Danny giving uninformative answers then asking a question for each they’d asked on their ‘turn,’ and them giving carefully vague answers of their own.

One consolation is that he didn’t seem bored. 

For someone who claimed to have woken up less than an hour ago on the wrong side of the planet he’s just…relaxed. Calm. Seemingly unaffected, down to his microexpressions.

No signs of shock.

Of course, he’d treated the Lazarus Pit as a kiddie pool. 

And despite his words, he’d shown no recognition at the mention of the Justice League, and around half of his questions thus far had been about them.

Clearly something was up with him; whatever it was would probably explain the self-assurance.

He’d escaped from the League before they’d even known he was kidnapped, afterall. Tim and Damian really only solved the final hurdle for him. Even with most of LoA distracted with something, it was still impressive that he’d manage to slip whatever restraints and guard they’d undoubtedly had him under.

Which is, of course, when Damian asks.

“How did you manage to escape?”

Danny shrugs.

“Have you ever seen that thing that coyotes do where they get their leg stuck in a beartrap or something and they gnaw it off to escape?” he says, expression unmoved.

“You are a meta, then,” Damian concludes while Tim just stares at Danny in horror.

At that, Danny’s expression changes. 

“A what?” he squints, uncomprehending.

“A meta - or metahuman - is someone with a meta-gene, which grants them superpowers. Like how Flash is so fast: that’s his meta ability,” Tim says. “You still had all your limbs when you…dove into-”

“Wait, wait, back up,” Danny interrupts. “To be clear: I did not gnaw off a limb. That was meant to be a joke. So Flash is a ‘meta.’ Is that, like, common?”

Tim was beginning to suspect this guy either had memory loss, was an unlucky alien who only landed recently - just in time to get kidnapped by the League of Assholes - or was just really sheltered.

He’d also suspect some kind of Pit demon, given where and how they found him, but he has so far been nothing but polite and cooperative - if a bit…chaotic. In terms of questions he’s asked.

“I’m kind of surprised they bothered to form a group if there are so few people with powers,” Danny mused after Damian filled him in on the statistics. “Especially if most of them are as minor as you said.”

“Even just one person with strong powers can spell disaster if left unchecked - the League aids response times in that regard. Besides, it’s not like metas are all there is to pay attention to - there are plenty of villains without meta abilities, intergalactic politics to deal with-”

“Intergalactic? Are you guys doing things in space!?”

Danny was suddenly very close, nose just a hair's breadth from touching Tim’s own.

He swallows quietly.

“Ah, occasionally? G-green Lantern is. A Green Lantern. They’re basically space cops, so that’s…more his thing. Though a previous Robin did have to deal with a Gordanian-Tamaranean conflict affecting a Tamaranean ally - Starfire.”

Danny leans away - just a bit - as he speaks, seemingly basking in the information like a cat in a sunbeam.

“You’re allies with an alien? Ancients,” he breathes. “There are aliens. So cool.”

“Tch, of course there are. I already informed you of Superman,” Damian huffs, causing Danny to whip towards him.

“Superman is an alien!?”

They’d also mention Batman and Superman being close allies, which apparently inspired Danny to let loose the sea of questions he’d been holding back.

“What’s his species called? Is Superman a translation of his actual alien name? You never showed me a picture; does he look human or is he totally different? What’s his planet like? Have you been there? Is he comfortable in Earth’s atmosphere or does he have to use environment-adjusting equipment? Or is it well suited to him? Is that why he has powers, actually? Because the difference in planet allows him to thrive? Or are they an inherent trait in his species? What’s his culture like? You said Green Lantern was ‘A Green Lantern;’ is he an alien too? Or is that the space cops’ names? Are most space cops aliens? What about the Tamaranean person - Starfire? And the Gordanians? Where are they all from are they all from the Milky Way or are some extra-galactic do they allhaveenvironmentalneedssimilartoorlessthanhumanscantheysurviveinthevacuumofSPACE-”

---------------------

Once they get Danny to pause for breath - which takes an impressively long time - they promise to answer his questions with a gentle reminder that they’re supposed to take turns asking things.

If Danny was cooperative before, he’s downright eager now. He listens with near-religious awe to every answer they gave.

When it’s their turn to ask a question he becomes unnervingly still and stares with an intensity that has Tim half-concerned they’ll catch on fire for every second they aren’t talking - though luckily between himself and Damian the pauses are minimal.

His answers are both more detailed and more focused. 

If they ask if he saw any information about the summoning ritual, he only mentions catching a glimpse of ‘the summoning room.’ Asking what the room looked like nets a description of the columns’ styles and the general vibes, asking what things he saw in the room got them an exhaustive list, but if they wanted further detail they had to ask specifically about the item in question.

He had an awful lot of details for a guy who only ‘caught a glimpse.’

He also refused to give them details about what the circle looked like because ‘for all I know you could be lying about everything you’ve said so far and planning to use me in your own ritual as a sacrifice to summon the Lord of the Dead.’

He and Damian spend a few of their turns opening the internet on the batplane’s front window and showing him some articles and videos about themselves, Batman, Gotham, and the JL to get them to trust him.

He eventually says he’ll describe the circle to them if he can meet an alien. 

Appealing to his sense of self-preservation by explaining the information would increase their odds of stopping Ra’s does not help, nor does appealing to his sense of ‘helping others.’ 

It’s an introduction or the highway.

Not the worst outcome, given how many aliens they know.

The rest of the flight is spent like this.

---------------------

Danny is having quite possibly the best day of his half-life - and life, if he’s being honest.

Aliens! The universe he’s in has aliens! And he gets to meet one! Probably!

If Ra’s requests something that isn’t outright evil he’s honestly, genuinely considering granting it (in exchange for something, of course. Having a cool home universe is enough for maybe a deal, not for a freebie. Maybe he can ask for a regularly scheduled summoning to talk to the aliens? And all of the information Ra’s has and will ever have on aliens? Ooooh).

Not that he’s going to make it easy on him, of course.

And wow he is loving the information exchange with the Robins - they’re telling him about aliens and he just has to, what, describe a chandelier? A book? His opinion on the pool?

They ask a surprising number of questions about the pool. 

He gets twin dead-eyed stares when he asks if they’re thinking of installing a bird bath - yeah it cost him an alien question but there are only so many pool-related questions he can answer while ignoring the joke hanging right there. 

He had to.

When they finally land and exit into what looks like the inside of a high-tech barn, he can’t help but think they might just be sour that they didn’t think of it first.

“Not to be judgy, or anything, but I’m not really getting cave vibes here,” he comments as he descends the final step from plane to floor, looking up once he’s clear to watch the roof finish folding closed over their heads.

“Because this isn’t the cave,” an unfamiliar voice says, melting out of the shadows in a corner to reveal a purple-cloaked woman.

“Wait, let me guess: Purple Robin? Purple Bat? Peafowl?”

Purple snorts good-naturedly and shakes her head. 

“All good guesses, space cadet, but wayyy off base. It’s Spoiler, non-flying thing name haver extraordinaire.” She dips into a dramatic bow, eyes crinkled in what, even without her mouth visible, was obviously a grin.

“Ehhhh…” Danny tilts a hand side-to-side. “Spoilers can technically fly if you crash a car hard enough.”

“By that logic everything can be considered a flying thing,” Robin frowned.

“Well the Earth is hurtling through space at around half a million miles per hour chasing the sun through an endless void with no ‘ground’ in sight….”

“Well!” Red Robin ends the brief silence that had inspired. “We should probably head to the batcave, but for security reasons we can’t let you see how we get there-”

“Hey, does this smell funny to you?” Spoiler asks, holding up a bottle of what was almost definitely chloroform.

He can see Red and Robins’ mask eyes widening (somehow) and makes the split second decision to lean forward and take a deep breath of the bottle being held just high enough for him to stick his nose over it.

“Citrusy,” he says before pretending to fall unconscious.

***

*Timmy Turner’s Dad’s voice* “I’m respecting reality by acknowledging that chloroform doesn’t work like that but asserting my authority as The Author by making it work like that anyway”

Tags:

@bathildaburp, @cannibalisticphantom, @thegatorsgoose, @skulld3mort-1fan, @starmee-lodurrson, @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @osnii, @coruscateselene, @jaytriesstuff, @seraphinedemort, @ver-444, @impulsiveasshole, @meira-3919, @apointlessbox, @gunebugfic, @starsblader4rise, @screamingtofillthevoid, @may-rbi, @tired-yet-awaken, @readerzj, @lazy-bouqet, @the-church-grimm, @astirdreaming, @bun-fish, @punderfulfandoms, @ispyblu, @phoenixdemonqueen, @cutelittlebeanie, @we-ezer, @treepainting, @jerithe, @all-eyes-no-dragon, @addie-lover-of-stories, @overtherose, @akavincent, @nappinginhell, @naluforever3, @icepopstar5105us, @itsloveleo, @spooky-fm

Sorry if I missed anybody anyway here's part 2!

[engagemythrusters]

okay one trend I've seen a lot more is that like. people are becoming more open to veiling. I've seen a number of newly converted (though I believe the term is reverted?) Muslim girls happily showing off their new hijabs, and I've seen people move from hijabs to niqabs very happily too. And now I'm seeing Christian girls start to veil because "their Muslim sisters" taught them how. I've seen that thrice now, which. Okay. Three times isn't A LOT, but it's 3 times more than what I had seen all other years in my life! And I don't know if it's becoming more popular among Jews or not, but I personally am seeing more information about it! If it's not more popular, it's at least being shared more. And that's just Abrahamic religions. That's not even talking about regional cultures! Some have gone completely, like Saxons, but there's still people reenacting! Uhhh I haven't noticed an uptick in dupattas but I still want to mention them bc I think they're some of the prettiest things in the world for REAL.

this post goes nowhere and does nothing, really. i just... am glad to see veiling practices. so pretty <3

[stimboardboy]

pokémon dishwasher magnet

[nerd-aleart]

My second favorite thing about the Netflix Daredevil series brand of fan fiction is that he has the saddest wettest eyes. Pathetic touch-starved wounded duck.

[icewindandboringhorror]

sometimes looking at like Self Help Strategies lists for the symptoms I'm having is always just like:

thing that I already do

thing I have tried 10 times

thing I already do

thing that I don't have the money to do

thing I already do

thing I've been doing since I was 10yrs old to no avail

thing that is impossible given my situation

thing that doesn't apply to me

thing that I already do

thing I have already tried

hrmm, oh wait, maybe finally- OH, yeah.. okay. thing that I already do but it was just phrased slightly differently

thing I have already done

[conanssummerchild]

genuine question here, why do ppl headcannon morty as autistic? like idk if its just bcs i cant relate personally to him in that way but like i just dont see it and im genuinely curious, im always open to more autistic characters lmao

[i-have-no-braincells]

i feel like a lot of people don’t understand that there’s a time and place for your opinions. anyone can have opinions, it’s part of being human, but that doesn’t mean you get to voice those opinions whenever you want. one example i can think of is people publicly voicing their opinions about certain foods. sure you might think that overly sweet coffees are gross, or plain food isn’t good (etc etc), but there are people who like those things. just because you have an opinion about something, or a preference, does not give you the right to be an asshole and make people feel bad about their own opinions and preferences.

going out of your way to point out that you don’t like something to someone who does just reads as asshole behavior. and i’m talking about instances where someone will go above and beyond to make sure that you know that they absolutely dislike and hate the thing that you mentioned liking. even in situations where you don’t necessarily know if someone you’re speaking to is a fan of something or not, i really don’t see a reason to immediately start hating on something unless you’re close to a person and know what they like and dislike.

[david-box]

There's a certain something something to Bojack Horseman that makes it not really furry media despite ostensibly having all the elements it needs. I think I need to rewatch that Patricia Taxxon video bc for the life of me I cannot figure out what it is

[sciderman]

Me clicking “see all” on the tags of that post on why Nate likes Peter: “Holy shit”

[robinsnest2111]

maybe I really need to get back into carbonated water. the latest addition to the local grocery store's bottled water selection has been quite good actually (sparkling peach and sparkling lime-lemon flavour) in those 3/4 liter "sports" bottles...

[autisticlee]

sometimes I think about how when I went to college for a year before I dropped out (basically failed out,) the counselors/dean told me they can't help me at all or give any accommodations unless I have an official autism/adhd diagnosis. that might sound logical at first, but when you think about it more, it's actually quite fucked up. if someone is struggling really bad, what's the harm in helping them? why do they require a paper to get even the smallest amount of help? people who don't need help aren't going to be failing miserably without help! even NTs could benefit from some adjustments to the horrible school system! (but changing the entire system is a whole other conversation that the school system isnt ready for)

but even if you do agree to jump through their hoops, you realize it's even more fucked up that the diagnosis process requires YEARS in most cases (in my case it took 4 or 5 years, can't recall exactly now, for autism/adhd diagnosis, which would have meant i finished school before getting it if i managed to mot fail out, or i wait that long before going back, which is a whole struggle itself) and they also tried billing me for THOUSANDS of dollars because of insurance issues!!

so you put a ton of time and money into this, and then get told the only accommodation they are willing to give you for autism and adhd is "a little extra time on tests"

....

my test scores were the best part of my whole class experience. that was NOT what I struggled with!!!!! those tests were all online and could be done in the comfort of your home where you can accommodate yourself and have plenty of time left over when you finish them because you are comfy in your own space, (and also, no one was stopping you from having your notes/books/google open to find the answers,) and you don't even need a time consuming, expensive diagnosis for that!

SO WHAT'S THE POINT!!!!!!!

[oncominggstorm]

My aunt decided a good way to wish me a happy birthday would be to text me a picture of me & my dead dad from my 22nd birthday.

Like yay thanks, I totally wanted to be sad and missing my dad on my birthday. I definitely wasn't trying to do the "out of sight out of mind don't think about sad things" thing to get through it without crying or anything 👍 Definitely wasn't already struggling missing not getting a happy birthday text from him 👍👍

[telesodalite]

Woe, unfinished, mildly edited, fulfire fic tid-bits be upon you

-

Like a magnet, his optics kept drifting back to Misfire's face. His stupid, strangely charming face.

For a short while, after Clemency, it had been that face that haunted some of his nightmares. His recalls blurring the lines between the strange reality of Misfire's hands reaching into him to lock his fuel pump back into the very spot he'd pulled it from, and the fear that just as easily he could pull it out again. They had been bloody dreams. Dreams that had him startling awake, gripping his chest in the vain attempt to close what wasn't open, before spending the rest of the day avoiding Misfire's optics.

But now things were different. Not Misfire's face. No, that hadn't changed much. But Fulcrum's dreams had definitely changed. To say the least of what all rolled around in his processor as he slept nowadays.

Some of those newer dreams had crept to the forefront of his mind as he sat there on the couch, staring as the lights of the screen reflected dully across Misfire's plating in hazy blues and greys.

The lighting made his colors seem muddy and faded, but Fulcrum didn't really care, nor did he care to think what it made himself look like. He was too busy bringing an empty engex can to his lips while he watched the crinkle of Misfire's nose as he barked a laugh at something Fulcrum didn't catch onscreen.

He'd started noticing it months ago, all the ways the silvery mesh of Misfire's face would scrunch up with his emotions. Those little crinkles along his optics and nose when he laughed or glared. The creases indented along his cheeks when he grinned. Fulcrum found himself quietly logging away these little details. Idle notes and observations that had suddenly started piling up in the corners of his processer.

He… He'd never really done that before? He'd never really noticed those sorts of things in other mechs.

The faces and expressions of his past colleagues never seemed terribly important. All the details of every smile and frown were never worth filing away, outside of few notable moments where those expressions reflected his work performance. But besides the smile that meant promotion, and the frown that meant he'd screwed up, nothing else was noticeable. Nothing was worth remembering.

But now the memory of every genuine laugh that bubbled out of Misfire sat comfortably besides memories of warm joyful optics that Fulcrum found himself collecting every time Crankcase cracked a rare half-smile for him, or when Krok placed a reassuring hand against his back, or the times Spinister spontaneously pointed out something odd but ultimately nice about his stupid frame.

He didn't really know why he was doing it, memorizing all these mundane little things, just to have them flit through his processer randomly. Maybe it was because those expressions, those details, felt… comforting? Comforting in such a strange and unfamiliar way. But, a good way. A good sort of strange, much like the mechs themselves.

-

-

He had stared for a long moment, the credits and their rolling tune playing somewhere in the background as Fulcrum stared back. But Misfire was never one for personable silence, even as the sound of some likely long dead Iaconian orchestra filled the room.

"What is it?" He asked, a small chuckle escaping him as he brought a hand to his face, "Don't tell me I've poured it all over myself again."

It had taken Fulcrum longer than usual to unstick his glossa from the roof of his mouth as he watched Misfire run a thumb over his lips, but eventually he had coughed out a small, choked, "No."

That had earned him an odd look at first, but with their fields loose and open, Fulcrum could almost feel the exact moment something clicked in Misfire's mind, as the idle comfortable static he projected in pulsing waves evened out into something openly curious and almost subdued.

It wasn't often Fulcrum felt him that clearly.

Misfire tended to keep his field fairly close, though, maybe not as close as the others did, what with how Crankcase kept an iron grip on his, and how Krok's always held an air of strained control, even when it slipped from him. But still, Misfire's was always hard to read, no matter the reach or depth of his field.

Even then and there, with it loose and unfiltered and buzzing with the engex running through his system, there was an ever present undertone of something indescribably jumbled about him, like too many feelings at once, each too vast and hurried for Fulcrum to really feel or understand.

It always seemed to stir the passive anxiety Fulcrum must've been forged with when Misfire's field brushed against his own. As facing the indescribable vague mess of Misfire felt like trying to untangle a pile of live-wires he couldn't even see.

It was almost frustrating in a sense, the need to try and sort and understand what wasn't even his to begin with. But at the same time it was almost exciting as well. It was like a game, like a puzzle he had yet to solve.

-

-

Finally letting his own can go tumbling to the floor to join Misfire's, Fulcrum had brought a hand to cover his face as he drew his legs up and leaned back against the arm of the couch, trying to suppress the fit as the sly look slipped from Misfire's face at the sounds.

While Fulcrum had laughed, and… snorted, embarrassingly, he had felt Misfire's field change again, brushing something fizzy and almost warm against his plating as Misfire's features softened.

"I'm looking at you," Fulcrum had said then between gulps of air, letting his hand fall from his face as he reached out to poke at Misfire's chest, "Dumbaft."

His finger had lingered over the thick plating there for maybe a little longer than necessary, drawing Misfire's attention as it slid down a little before pulling away.

Looking back up again with his helm angled slightly, Misfire had followed the sight of his hand leaving his plating to where Fulcrum let it fall between them.

"Wow…" Misfire had chuckled a little dryly, "I was gonna make it real easy for you. I was going to say something like, ''Do you like what you see?'' or-… or something like that. But now you've ruined it. Good job."

Meeting Fulcrum's optics again as he pulled his own hand back from Fulcrum's shoulder, he brought it to rest between them as well.

"And you're laughing at me," He said next, faking a small pout as his hand drifted closer to Fulcrum's, "Which totally ruins the whole vibe I was going for really. I mean, it's sort of hard to be all nice and suave-like when you're being laughed at. Total vibe killer. Bit of an ego killer too if I'm being honest. So thanks for that loser, thanks for saying I have a funny face."

With Misfire's fingers brushing distractingly past his own, Fulcrum didn't think before the words stumbled out of him.

"I like your face."

It came out almost matter of fact sounding, Fulcrum's laughter having died down while Misfire complained about it. But at the same time the words felt so simple, they came out so easily, and in a weird way they felt nice to say. But Misfire's optics had widened in surprise, his frame frozen and his field suddenly struck quiet, and despite the engex numbing his usual nerves, Fulcrum felt a sudden pang of anxiety because of it.

The silence in Misfire's field was terribly alien. It felt wrong, and something in Fulcrum spiraled to think he had caused it. But slowly, almost as if it were creeping forward, an odd almost scrutinizing uncertainty fanned outward in a careful wave. Misfire moved with it, leaning closer as he searched Fulcrum's expression for something.

"Oh yeah?" He'd said lowly then, and that sly look returned. But that vague uncertainty didn't fade with it, if anything, Fulcrum felt it strengthen. Caught between what he saw, in Misfire's easy smile and dimmed optics, and what he felt, in the growing hollow distance within their fields, Fulcrum found himself frowning and pulling back.

-

-

Growing frustrated with himself, and wanting that feeling back, he had pushed forward, shifting onto his knees as he reached for Misfire's face before the other could pull away from him entirely.

"I like your face." He said firmly, maybe too firmly. His expression still drawn into a frown as he pressed his fingers into Misfire's helm, brushing his thumbs across the silver mesh he'd been staring so intently at before. "I like your optics, and your nose. I- I like the way you smile. When you really smile, and when you laugh. I do. I'm not lying."

And oh there it was again, that little curl of warmth in Misfire's field. Almost a tangible thing, like a brush of ventilation, but Misfire wasn't venting. His mouth hung open ever so slightly, but no breath left him as he stared at Fulcrum with widening optics.

Spurred on by that tiny bloom of warmth, Fulcrum chased after it with slightly slurred words and clumsy hands as he tried to fix whatever he'd done wrong, hoping with each word that Misfire might soften and smile again.

"I like your expressions, and- and I like your voice," He said, glancing down at Misfire's parted lips, and laughing softly, nervously, as he continued, "Even when you say something so stupid. I like- I like the way it sounds. I like your accent, I like the way it makes your words sound. I- I like your- your mouth?"

Once more that weird but nice feeling settled in Fulcrum's chest. Those simple words felt good to say. It felt like a weight off his shoulders, like an admission he'd been waiting to say. About what and why? He wasn't really sure. But the warmth grew, and Misfire took a sharp vent inwards, and that felt right, so Fulcrum kept on.

"I like your helm," He said with a smile, reaching up to brush his fingers over the jutting finials there, before dropping his hands to settle lightly over Misfire's chest. "I like your frame, the colors of it. I like your-"

Before he could finish, Misfire was surging forward, knocking their helms together and nearly bruising the mesh of their noses as he tried for, and just barely missed, Fulcrum's lips.

-

👁👁👍

[puppppppppy]

man ok so you know the spiciness scale on menus that show you how spicy a dish is so you can order based on your tolerance. can we have that for sauces too please

[autumnfangirler]

.