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#I started vibrating
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The Flash (2023) #5
Hyperventilating here and I might be alone in how much this genuinely excites me because Michael is talking not just about multiple realities - he's talking about multiple realities on a scale that is greater than just something that can be mapped such as the known Multiverse, but rather realities that are fundamentally incompatible with each other not just on a biological scale (you can't breathe the atmosphere) but by existing in this reality you will just... not be.
A world where let's say 1 + 1 genuinely, truly, irrevocably does equal 3.
I don't believe Spurrier will go for it, but this point reminds of a particular nebulous scene in Young Justice 2019 that was never explained due to Bendis' mushy writing.
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Young Justice (2019) #16
When Michael started talking about incompatible dimensions this is what I immediately thought of, and that Bart may have already been to one.
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seraphtrevs · 1 year
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I'm at a mall and they started playing Something Stupid
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whoisnotmyname · 1 month
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what is it with selune clerics being incredibly saphic Extra
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jabthemoth · 2 months
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I'm back and worse than ever!
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anewp0tat0 · 1 year
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looks like I can draw again!!
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Sebastian called him "orphan" for the rest of the week.
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toomanyacorns · 1 year
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Mechanic Eddie because @pinkrelish and @newcatmeow inspired me
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marlenacantswim · 1 month
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this wretched thing of mine feels like some sort of ad from a company with its finger on the pulse of of this accursed webbed site, but no, this is a real actual experience i had yesterday night at like 5am
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MC is so great. they heard jack of all trades master of none and said Bet
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cuubism · 7 months
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unfortunately for my sanity i am thinking about them again [sheltered rich boy dream and feral child hob]
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In retrospect, it was fitting that the first time Dream met Hob, he was breaking a rule.
It hadn’t been easy. Dream did not like to lie, and wasn’t very good at it besides. And breaking rules made him nervous. Broken rules carried consequences. But he’d needed to get out of the house, just for a moment. To clear his head. And just going for a walk was not a good enough reason to leave the house when he could be doing something more productive. Something better. Make some use of yourself, Dream.
So Dream had crafted a little story of extra studying, extra work, and managed to slip out. Dream did not always tell the truth, could not, but usually he lived in the shadows left by omission. The outward lie was bitter on the back of his tongue.
But he’d been freed. And now he was wandering. He did not often get the chance to wander, untended, unobserved. Making his unsteady way down the winding road leading out of the estate, and then into town, where he’d never really walked before. It was just getting late, almost sunset on a Thursday evening, and the streets were fairly quiet, only a handful of people about. And Dream wandered, not quite knowing what to do with himself but enjoying the quiet in his head.
Possibly meandering about on his own was a bad idea. Possibly he’d be hit by a car or attacked by a madman. He didn’t think he much cared.
And that was when he met Hob. That first dip of his toes into freedom.
He was sitting on a bench in the park, watching the small scattering of pigeons pecking for seeds by the fountain. Dream had always liked birds, but it wasn’t often he had the chance to sit and just watch them. He studied their patterns, mentally tracking the shapes they traversed, their mathematical lines. He should have brought his sketchbook. It would have been nice to work from live subjects, for once.
He was deep in his thoughts, in the calming trickle of the fountain and the repetitive paths of the birds, when another boy about his age plopped down on the bench beside him.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so depressed while feeding birds.”
The birds had fluttered up in disarray at the sudden motion, but settled down again quickly. Dream looked at the other boy askance, irritated at his rare peace being interrupted.
“Do you often speak with people who are busy feeding birds?” he asked, unable to keep the annoyance from his tone.
“Only when they’re broody and mysterious,” said the boy. He wasn’t wearing a school uniform, but he must have been college age, like Dream. Dream was still wearing his jacket and trousers, for his own part. Everything about this boy was looser, really, from his longish brown hair, to his jeans and t-shirt. It made Dream feel very uptight in comparison, which was not a fact about himself he needed reinforced. He already knew it. “Do you often feed birds?”
“I am not feeding them,” Dream said. “They are eating what was there.”
“Just spying on them, then,” said the boy teasingly. Dream did not know what to do about being teased with what seemed like lightheartedness rather than mockery, and so didn’t respond.
“Seriously,” said the boy. “Are you okay?”
Then Dream did look at his face properly. He had very kind, very genuine eyes, was the first thing Dream noticed. It was not something he noticed about a lot of people. Perhaps it was not something a lot of people possessed.
Then the boy smiled at him, a soft, kind smile. It transformed his whole face from something merely pleasant to something lovely.
“Is that why you have come over?”
The boy shrugged. “You looked sad and alone. I’ve been sad and alone before, so I don’t think anyone else should.”
Dream bristled. “I am not sad and alone.”
“Just alone, then?”
Dream’s mouth popped open in affront, and then shut. Then he said, “Are you always so familiar and impertinent with strangers?”
“‘Familiar and impertinent,’” echoed the boy, with a laugh. “Sure. Are you always so snooty and aristocratic?”
“Yes,” said Dream, and he laughed louder.
“Honest though.” He stuck his hand out. “I’m Hob.”
Dream nearly said, What kind of name is Hob? but swiftly realized the hypocrisy. Gingerly, he took Hob’s hand. “…Dream.”
“What kind of name is Dream?” said Hob, and Dream sighed. “And you really don’t have to shake my hand like a king deigning to touch the peasants. I’m not diseased.”
“I don’t like to touch people,” Dream said, taking his hand back. “Peasant or otherwise.”
“Peasant or otherwise,” Hob echoed. He didn’t seem offended. He was smiling.
“Are you here because you felt I should be taught a lesson? Is that it?”
“Nah. I just get bored easily.” Hob turned to watch the pigeons again, tapping his fingers restlessly against the bench. “I was out and about. You looked interesting. You wanna go for a walk?”
“…Why?” But Dream knew why. He had learned it as he’d wandered the streets, freed for the first time.
Hob shrugged. “Just to do it.”
Dream had stepped out of his comfort zone once today already. He supposed he could do so again. If Hob turned out to be an adolescent serial killer at least the end of his life would hold intrigue. “Very well.”
Hob grinned, so bright it struck some deep, static bell in Dream’s chest and set it ringing. “Come on.”
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uncannycanyon · 2 months
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me: wow the malevolent ep 40 finale sure is amazing and the fight between john and yellow and the butcher and noel are still alive! This sure is a great finale
Kayne ready to ruin everyone's day:
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day 53
so this poll @psychicsmackdown is a targeted attack against me personally because i have no way of choosing between my first special interest blorbo and a current special interest blorbo.
HOWEVER. it is also cruel that they must fight because i think they would be besties. i think they would go to the mall food court and be grouchy little haters and talk shit and be friends about it.
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wovenvessel · 7 months
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They really put the dork in stagedorks
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keery · 2 months
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joe on bbc radio 1 talking about end of beginning!
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naetles · 3 months
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you guys don't understand how badly i need this illustration in the highest quality possible i feel like a feral animal rattling the bars of my enclosure
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sneez · 1 year
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last question. tell me about nina.
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moonpaw · 1 year
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at any given moment i will think about one piece and turn into this btw
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