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but which alien should I choose? 🤔
Your Blorbo had to eat the last food you ate (not a leftover, but the exact same food that you ate; for instance, if the last food you ate was Jajangmyeon, they’d have to eat a fresh bowl of Jajangmyeon too). Would they be happy about it?
Yes
No
Every poll on this blog is about fictional characters only. This request was sent to us and we made a poll in response to it. Send any Blorbo-related question you want to our inbox and we’ll make a poll on which people can vote with their own Blorbos in minds
argentino q vea argentino q bloqueo hoy
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All roads unfortunately lead back to tumblr.
Canon never mentions it but Bruce, who has lived in a house with kids of all ages, has:
definitely been woken in the middle of the night to be told by one of the kids saying m that they threw up or had an accident
been told something disturbing like "you're old and going to die soon" or "there's a lady standing in that corner who says she knows you" while the kid is falling asleep in their dark, very empty room.
held a tissue while one of the kids blew their nose
stepped on discarded toys or tripped on sneakers left on the stairs.
had a heart attack like event any time the kids ran across a busy street or fell over or swore in front of other adults
love that the supergirl movie confirms that kryptonians aren’t weird ubermensch fascists and clark’s parents were just weird. Like they were just Scientologists or something
It fuckin bright man. I seepy.
Bruce Wayne, the type of parent to get overstimulated and lock himself in the bathroom, pantry, office, etc. Dick Grayson, the type of child to wiggle his fingers under the door, and tell Bruce to let him in

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How I probably sound explaining the lore of my favorite comic book characters to my family who genuinely couldn't care less
um so my brain did a thing-
Alright, so I couldn’t sleep until like 8:30 in the morning yesterday, but somehow I half-dreamed of this idea where Prime races to check on Jason the moment he snaps out of the last illusion Manchester Black puts him in during Superman #39. So… uh I hope you enjoy reading it 😅😅
—
His knuckles still tingle from punching reality. He looks up and around him, still panicking, tears still pricking the corner of his eyes. Wait — none of that was real?
He looks up at Manchester Black, who looks… more alive. Less apparitional and more corporeal.
He’s speaking, talking about how he had the reality punching directed towards him or something, but Prime isn’t listening. He’s still panicking.
He looks down at his hands and finds them shaking. There was blood on them a moment ago. Blue Beetle’s blood. Batman’s. Jason’s.
Oh, god — Jason.
Suddenly Prime’s speeding out of there as fast as he can, hurtling towards Gotham.
He’d only met Jason in passing once. They’d spoken a little, but it hadn’t been much. Well, not to Jason, anyway. For Prime, well, if you asked him, it’d been one of the best days in Prime’s redemption arc so far.
Now all he could think about was the image Manchester Black had put in his head. Jason leaning against Batman, barely able to stand. His shoulder bleeding, and his head hung low — almost as if he were about to lose consciousness due to blood loss. Prime remembered the panel from Under the Red Hood where Jason brags about how effective shoulder wounds are. Why can’t I fly any faster?!
Before he knows it, he’s crashing through the window of the safehouse he knew Jason was currently staying in (he’d basically followed him home the night they met, he’d been curious, so sue him).
For a second, his ears are ringing, so he doesn’t register the heartbeat present in the house alongside his; doesn’t catch the way it spiked the moment they heard the window break.
Prime stumbles onto his feet and is about to search the house when he’s face to face with a gun that has an eerie green halo surrounding its barrel. “Don’t move an inch.”
His eyes trace the line of the gun down an outstretched arm until he’s staring into Jason’s.
He knew that Jason’s eyes were green, but he hadn’t thought they’d reflect the light the way they were right now.
“Jason,” Prime whispered mostly to himself. His voice was shaky.
“How the hell did you know where I stay,” Jason spat in response, gun unmoved from its original position.
“You’re okay,” he whispered again, his eyes shifting from Jason’s face to his left shoulder, the one that had been injured in his vision. He reached his arm up, and Jason’s own arm faltered.
“What- what are you doing?”
Prime’s hand came up and stopped in front of Jason’s shoulder, “Can I?”
Jason swallowed, pausing to consider, before he nodded once. He lowered his arm, and Prime put a hand on his shoulder.
He brushed a thumb over the spot where the wound should have been, only to find none. “Oh thank god you’re ok,” Prime gasped, tears springing to his eyes once more.
Jason furrowed his eyebrows in confusion then. He leaned down to catch Prime’s eyes again, his voice gentler when he spoke this time. “Hey, it’s alright. Like you said, I’m ok, why wouldn’t I be?”
Prime looked up at him and smoothed his fingers over his shoulder again. No wound. No blood. He was alright.
Just as he gathered his bearings and was about to open his mouth to explain, he felt himself being dragged through the page yet again. Fuck.
No games this time, he promised himself. Not after what Manchester Black did.
If it’s a fight he wanted, it was a fight he’d get.
—
I didn’t wanna post it on ao3 cuz then I’d spend more than a week overthinking it and trying to polish it 😓😓 I might come back and edit it a bit later tho idk we’ll see. If you’ve gotten this far tho, congratulations and ty for reading!! Likes/rbs are appreciated!! And if anyone has any corrections or constructive criticism please lmk :))
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happy birthday ya big nerd 🥳
Roberta Lucci