#I did not edit this

[thisgingerhasnosoul]

You know, I used to believe that the leftist… fixation, shall we say, on Israel/Palestine was in good faith. Like, I figured the reason they talked about it so much was because they saw Israel’s lopsided military power, and how they were using it (to commit war crimes), and were rightfully horrified. It descended into antisemitism for them at times, not because they truly hated Israelis or Jews, but because they had bad rhetorical habits built into them and just didn’t realize. So of course, I was of the very firm belief that in the event of an attack like the one on Israel, leftists would condemn it as horrific, since their problem wasn’t Israelis themselves, but how Israel was perpetuating the conflict with their disproportionate military power and committing human rights violations. I truly believed they would never cheer on those doing the same to Israeli civilians—because the war crimes were their problem, not the Jews.

And, um, yeah. I was wrong.

[finemealcreates]

S'mores

July 14: Family camping trip | candle

Clark double checks that they have everything packed up. He has all the suitcases, the tents, sleeping bags, flashlights, coolers, food, chairs—

“You’ve already double checked everything twice Dad,” Jon complains from inside the car. 

“I just want to be thorough,” Clark replies, placing a third checkmark next to every item on his list. 

“There’s being thorough and then there’s being a little obsessive,” Conner mutters from the middle seats, likely knowing Clark would hear it. 

“Hey, this is Danny’s first time camping with us. I wanna make sure everything goes well for him,” Clark replies quietly, knowing Danny is in the car and not wanting to embarrass him. 

Both his son and brother sigh in the car, but Clark can also practically hear them relenting. They want Danny to have a good time, too. 

Only after Clark is satisfied does he enter the car, smiling over at his cousin who has his switch out and is already playing some sort of game. 

“Ready Danny?” Clark asks, putting the key in the ignition. 

“Been ready to go for the past half hour, Clark,” Danny teases, pausing his game and turning to face Clark more head-on, a grin stretching along his face. 

“I just wanted to—”

“Be thorough, yeah yeah,” Danny replies sarcastically, good naturedly rolling his eyes. “You know there is such a thing as over packing and being too thorough, right?” 

Clark huffs and rolls his eyes back, grinning. 

Then, he begins the drive, turning on the radio to (quietly) play some music for the drive. 

“Batman’s rubbed off on him,” Conner whispers to Jon, causing the other boy to laugh. 

“Now that’s uncalled for,” Clark huffs under his breath, a smile still on his lips. 

“How long until we get to the campsite?” Danny asks, oblivious to the conversation the supers are having near him. 

“About an hour or two,” Clark answers happily. 

Danny hums while the other two groan. 

Usually, when they go camping, they just fly out to the campsite. It’s a secluded enough area that they can get away with not having a car. But since Danny’s coming with them this time, they can’t do that. 

Clark is used to long car rides, but the other two never had to deal with them much. They always complain about long car rides, but Clark refuses to budge. He always insists it builds character, but he knows that’s not why he makes them. Sometimes he makes them for appearances, like today. Other times he does it because he misses long car rides, and they’re always more fun with other people in the car with you. 

“So how’s your job going?” Clark prompts, hitting his turn signal as he merges onto the street, heading for the highway. 

Danny’s entire demeanor lights up as he sits up more in his seat.

“It’s amazing! The Goddard Space Flight Center is such a surreal place to work at. Did you know it’s the largest organization of engineers, scientists, and other technologists who build spacecraft, new technology, and instruments for NASA?” Danny questions, stars practically in his eyes. 

Clark smiles. He did know that, but he’s not gonna mention that. 

“Really?” Clark prompts. “Can you tell me anything you’re working on right now?” 

Danny smiles good naturedly. 

“Nothing that you can’t read about in our news articles,” Danny sing-songs. 

Clark puffs out his cheeks good-naturedly. 

“Dang, was hoping for an inside scoop for the planet,” Clark jokes. 

“I know, I know Mr. Reporter. Unfortunately all the NDA’s I signed say I can’t tell you much,” Danny teases. 

“Would’ve been nice to hear about all the new things NASA’s cooking from an Engineering Technician,” Clark sighs, winking at Danny. 

Danny rolls his eyes, but the grin stays on his face. 

“I can tell you that the Hubble has traced dark matter in the Dwarf Galaxy using stellar motions,” Danny offers, a smile wide on his face. 

“Oh yeah? How so?” Clark questions. 

“Well,” Danny starts, eyes getting sharp and focused, “some of our astronomers have been measuring the movement of stars in the Draco dwarf galaxy over the past 18 years. They’ve finally succeeded in making the currently most accurate three-dimensional understanding of the stars’ movement within that galaxy.”

Clark’s eyebrows raise slightly.

“That’s a long time,” Clark comments.

“Well, learning about space and getting accurate information is a marathon, not a sprint,” Danny replies. 

“That’s really cool, Danny,” Clark says with a smile. 

“Isn’t it?” Danny asks with amazement and wonder in his entire being. “I know that I don’t work with that directly, but man it’s so cool how we’re all working together to learn more about space and the world overall.” 

Clark smiles and hums in agreement. A part of Clark is saddened by the fact that Danny will never be able to go to the stars in the way he wanted to when they were younger. But after the lab incident that hospitalized Danny, his body was never the same. Not fully. 

“I think you’re doing great work, Danny. Even if you can’t tell me about it,” Clark states with a smile. “I can’t wait to read about the things you’ve worked on in the future.” 

Danny grins brighter under Clark’s gaze, tapping his feet lightly against the floor of the car and simultaneously tapping both knees. 

“I can’t wait for you guys to see what we’ve been working on! It’s revolutionary!” Danny admits. 

Clark’s grin grows. 

Bruce apparently knew what they were working on, which made sense since Wayne Enterprise had teamed up with NASA for this particular project. The man had been tight-lipped about what the project was, but had told the Justice League that if all went well, the Watchtower would be getting some major upgrades. 

“I don’t doubt it,” Clark replies. 

“But enough about me and space,” Danny dismisses. “Talk to me about what you’ve been working on, Clark? I always read your articles when I get the chance.” 

Clark smiles proudly, glad that his cousin is reading the articles he writes. Even if not all the articles are particularly exciting. 

“Well, I’m currently working on an article about different businesses in Delaware that have taken to using AI versus ones that haven’t, and its impact on those businesses.”

Danny raises a brow, interest coloring his features. 

“Oh?” Danny noises. “And can you tell me anything about what you’ve found?” 

Clark gives Danny a sly smile. 

“You can read all about it when the article comes out,” Clark teases. 

Danny groans good naturedly, rolling his eyes. 

“Hardy har har,” Danny responds sarcastically. 

“I can tell you that we’re publishing the entries from the contest we hosted,” Clark replies with a proud smile. 

“Really?” Danny asks, attention fully grabbed. “Which contest?” 

“Delaware Student Articles,” Clark answers. “It was a contest we held where students wrote articles and submitted them to be published. Could be anything from local to world news. We’re publishing the top 10 winners.” 

Danny’s eyes widen some more in interest. 

“How many submissions did you get?” Danny questions. 

“Over twenty-five thousand,” Clark responds. 

“That’s amazing!” Danny exclaims, bouncing slightly in his seat. 

“Isn’t it?” Clark replies with his own matching smile. 

“Really, Clark, I think it’s cool you get to do such an amazing job that you’re so passionate about,” Danny says, serious with joy coloring his tone. 

“I’m glad you get to do the same,” Clark returns, honest. “We both got incredibly lucky with our jobs.” 

“We did,” Danny agrees, humming slightly. “Enough about work, though. Tell me about Lois, how is my favorite cousin doing?” 

Clark rolls his eyes good-naturedly, but goes with the topic change. 

The rest of the car ride is filled with conversations about their personal lives, how family is doing, and everything they’ve missed since they last saw each other a few months ago. 

Before he knows it, they’re at the campsite. It throws Clark off a little as he didn’t realize they’d been yapping for so long, but good conversation does make the time fly. 

“Alright, boys, we’re here!” Clark announces with a smile. 

“Finally,” Jon groans, unbuckling and jumping out of the car. 

The young boy runs around in a few circles, stretching his legs and getting used to being on two feet again. 

“So dramatic,” Conner huffs, unbuckling himself and exiting the car, stretching slightly. 

“Don’t you guys go camping semi-often?” Danny questions, unbuckling and opening the car door. “You’d think they hardly ever go on long car rides.” 

Clark chuckles, covering the slight nervousness he feels at Danny being so observant. 

“They still haven’t adjusted to it. They get too antsy and cramped,” Clark lies smoothly, exiting the car himself. 

“Makes sense,” Danny mutters, leaving his things in the car as he begins to help Clark unpack the car. 

Together, and with the other two’s help, they get the entire unpacked in record time. Well, in record time for doing it without a ton of use of their powers. Clark gave Jon a Look when he carried more than a normal twelve-year-old would typically be able to. 

“I haven’t camped in a while,” Danny admits as he and Clark work on getting the tent set up. 

Really, it’s Clark leading the assembly of it and giving Danny directions of where to stand and which pieces to slot together. 

“I can’t imagine not camping semi-regularly,” Clark says. “It’s so nice to get away from the hustle-and-bustle every once and a while.” 

Danny smiles teasingly at Clark, but Clark can also sense some … tension? Clark resists the urge to frown. 

“Can’t imagine why a small town boy like you likes to escape the city for a while,” Danny jokes. 

“You say that like you didn’t agree to join us,” Clark shoots back, smiling back at Danny. 

Danny shrugs, still smiling. 

Clark pretends not to notice the tension in Danny’s frame as they finish getting the tent set up. 

“When was the last time you went camping?” Clark inquires as they throw a tarp over the tent, just in case it rains. 

“Uh,” Danny starts, frowning as he thinks, “we went camping as a family back when I was a Freshman. It was Jazz’s idea, she thought I was too stressed out.” 

Clark’s eyebrows furrow. He wants to ask more questions, but he resists the urge as he takes note of how Danny is hunched in on himself. 

“Well, hopefully this is a fun experience for you,” Clark replies with a smile. 

Danny grins back. 

“If you packed stuff for s’mores, I’m sure it will be,” Danny assures. 

Clark laughs as he nods. 

“Wouldn’t be camping without ‘em.” 

⧍↟☾

After they cook and eat some hot dogs, they begin roasting s’mores. Jon keeps getting too overexcited and burns his marshmallows, but otherwise the marshmallows get turned into a light brown. 

“Thank you,” Danny says after everyone has made themselves s’mores. 

Clark smiles, looking at Danny confused. 

“For what?” 

Danny shrugs, offering a shy smile. 

“For bringing me with you guys. This is really … nice.” 

Clark’s smile softens as he gives his cousin a side hug. 

“Of course, Danny. Thank you for joining us,” Clark tells him honestly. 

“I’ll have to join you guys again,” Danny comments before taking a bite out of his s’more.

Clark’s smile widens with delight. 

“We’d love to have you join us again, any time,” Clark replies. 

Danny smiles widely. 

“That’d be great,” Danny responds.

Clark feels warmth fill him from the inside. He loves spending time with his family, and looks forward to spending more time with Danny.

[1randomperson15]

I thought tumblr would like this one

[issylra]

Please write the it guy Hob fic !!! I mean if you can! It would be iconic

Here's a rough little snippet I shouldn't have written but did anyway!

--

The first thing Hob notices are the cables. Cables everywhere, tangled into a haphazard knot under the desk, and hanging in a ball over the too-plush carpet. 

"This is blasphemy," he says, sounding so forlorn that Dream's head tilts at him quizzically. Dream looks like Hob imagines a cat would after it's pushed a glass of water off the countertop: curious, but entirely confused about why he's being chastised. 

"Have you discovered the problem?"

Hob pinches the bridge of his nose, has to look away before his stomach does that traitorous fluttering thing it tends to whenever Dream stands too close, or speaks, or does anything at all. 

It's become a bit of a nightmare working with Dream, and the irony isn't lost on him. The problem isn't the work itself. Dream's calls are by far the easiest of the ones Hob takes. The problem is Dream. His earnestness. The fact that he's probably the most beautiful person Hob's ever seen. He's distracting, and he overpays, too. Which is nice and all, but Hob can't really stomach the idea of accepting half a month's rent because one of Dream's ridiculously long legs jostled the power cord on his monitor. 

"The problem is you've got legs like a gazelle," Hob tells him, "and the state of your desk is enough to drive a man to tears."

Dream's mouth twitches. So close to a smile, Hob feels a spark of pride. "Legs like a gazelle?" 

It's the same low rumble of a voice that had shocked Hob the first time he'd heard it, and Hob would blush at the way Dream's staring, dark eyebrows raised near to his hairline, if he weren't already so desensitized. 

Hob clears his throat instead, and tucks a stray bit of hair behind his ear. "I'm coming back tomorrow. You're due for a lesson in cable management."

[florshedworf]

okay which one of you

[zuble]

iphone 0.5 camera fucked up my cat’s proportions

[indycarnocontext]

[fishsfailureson]

Me when I cause one of the biggest physics scandals in recent history

[coffeeghoulie]

it’s still may thirty first shut up shut up shut up

Thank you so much @forlorn-crows for putting together Mushy May. This has been so much fun, and I would love to do it again. (maybe give me a minute before I do this again, this is the most I’ve written in a sprint like this since high school. actually I went and checked the “novel” I wrote senior year, everything I’ve written for this ended up being like 5k words more)

Pairing: Polyghouls but mostly Aether/Dew

Rating: Explicit

Words: 6555

Summary: Aether needs to take some time off from the Ghost Project. His mate does not take it well.

[drelldreams]

N7 Month 2023 Challenge Day 7: Varren

Note: I had this dream where Samara came across Teltin facility during one of her investigation. So this fic was born.

Under the cut.

Fic Title: For Every Wicked One, There Is Someone Well Meaning Out There

Somewhere in the outer edges of the Terminus Systems, 2173.

Samara’s gaze wanders from the unconscious child in her arms to the disasterous view from the shuttle’s window. The flames have swallowed the facility whole by now, burning down the planet’s fruitless forest. Like the rest of Pragia it is grey and plain and too overgrown with poisonous, infecteous plants to ever offer any hope of terraforming it to provide a sustainable environment. It is rare that Samara has to take such measures to destroy an entire place. Normally, Samara’s job is not to commit arson, really; it generally goes against the Justicar Code. But this whole facility was build with one purpose: to torment. Thus, by the Code, Samara was compelled to destroy it.

Though the child could awaken any second, and is likely to attack Samara, the Justicar holds herself calm. She is a danger, that is certain. In her nearly a millenia of life, centuries of which she spent travelling across the galaxy as a mercenary, Samara has never come across someone with such tremendous biotic poweress. Especially not across someone as young as this girl was. Not even Samara herself, a Justicar with finely honed powers, could claim she surpassed this little human’s strength. That they have abused her in such horrific ways, all just to test the limits of human biotic potential?

Samara has faced many horrors in her long life. But this.. this was beyond all measure. Horrifying. Repulsive, on every level. Despite her conditioning, Samara felt a tinge of nausea in her stomach. Who could do this to a child so young and innocent?

She has not felt this way since she first learned what horrors her daughter had committed after her escape from Thessia.

A part of Samara thinks that shall this child awaken, perhaps she should.. perhaps she should not do anything. If this young human feels compelled to kill Samara, how can she blame her? The Justicar has read the notes left in the facility before she burned the place down. ‘Subject Zero’ has been raised in this place since she was a baby, treated as nothing but an experiment meant to be tortured solely for the sake of scientific results. Conditioned to kill. She could not tell right from wrong.

She never had someone who taught her that.

If this child— Samara refuses to dub her ‘Subject Zero’ in her mind— choose to attack her.. She was not sure if she could, or should, defend herself.

Maybe Samara was more resigned than calm, after all.

—

Samara has been correct with her assumptions. As soon as the child found consciousness, she hit Samara with a biotic blast so hard it would have killed one of the scientists back at the facility. But Samara was well armored, and the child was weakened from her earlier massacre. With a loud thud, Samara’s back hit the wall, and the asari found herself shockingly accepting of whatever this child decided she would do with her.

Samara’s Code did not compel her to kill this child. Not because of her age, no. But because she was unaware of what she was doing. The girl was scowling, but Samara had seen the heart wrenching fear in her eyes the moment she had awakened. She could tell by her stance and the tense set of her jaw how terrified she was, how horribly abused she had been.

It was allowes to act in self defense, but not obligatory. The choice was up to Samara; rarely did the Code offer such freedom.

She could feel the biotic field tearing at her when she thought of Morinth.

No. Samara had to end this. She had to take out Morinth, or she would continue to leave behind astronomical body counts; some of which were young, innocent children, like this poor human was;

She couldn’t die.

And, just like that, Samara felt the biotic field tearing at her perish.

But it wasn’t because Samara had been fighting it.

No.

"Why did you kill the scientists? Why did you take me with you?"

Samara had expected this young girl’s voice to sound different. It did not sound angry, nor could Samara detect any obvious fear. Though Samara could tell she was scared, the girl didn’t make it seem obvious. Rather, her voice sounded awfully monotonous. Weathered. In a way she reminded Samara more of herself, a ruined, broken vessel; an accomulation of centuries of hardship. A girl that young was not supposed to evoke such an aura..

"I am Justicar Samara, a servant of an ancient asari order. By my Code, I was compelled to bring justice and kill your tormentors. I was also obliged to save you.", Samara explained, her tone full of compassion and serenity.

"What.. what Code?", the young girl asked, still wary of Samara. "And why are you blue?"

The blunt question, had  the circumstances been any less tragic, would have made Samara’s lips quirk up in a smile ever so slightly. But she could not smile. Not now.

"I am blue because I am an asari." Samara explained patiently. She remembered that this human child likely never had seen someone of another species. "We are one of the many space faring species; among your own race, the humans."

"Asari….", The child repeated, quietly. "Your Code made you save me?", she asked in disbelief.

"Yes", Samara confirmed without hesitation. "That is what I do. My role is to bring justice upon this galaxy; to protect innocents like you, from people like those scientists at the facility."

"But why are you different?", she asked, still as if she was not believing Samara.

"You may find it difficult to believe, young one, but there are many more people like me", Samara stated. "I will not lie to you. The galaxy can be a cruel place. There will be more people out to harm you, people like those scientists. But for every individual as wicked as that, I can assure you, there is someone well meaning out there."

The young biotic did not seem to miss that Samara had been evading her question. "But why are you not like them?"

"I could not bring it over my heart to harm someone young and innocent like you. It is as simple as that."

Samara was not sure if the child understood, given the puzzled look on her face. How shocking, that a child had been raised under such brutal conditions that it could not comprehend how someone could not be cruel.

"You have not yet killed me", Samara noted, gently.

"….You haven’t tried to hurt me yet", the child replied, quietly.

“And so it shall remain. What is your name?"

"They call me Subject Zero." Her answer was clinical, lacking any sort of inflection.

"No. I will not call you Subject Zero, dear. Those days are over. You are not a subject."

"I don’t have a name."

"Then it is time we shall give you a proper name."

---

Samara could not say that the child had ceased to see any violence that day. It was only shortly after they have arrived at the next port, that pirates had attempted to steal the girl. Much to their dismay, she was in company of a Justicar. Between the possibly powerful biotic in the galaxy— which surprisingly was not Samara, and herself, a Justicar, the pirate band stood no chance.

Samara hoped that this young human would soon finally see another part of reality; the beauty of this galaxy. She had saved children before, but never had she come across one as deprived of the beautiful parts of life such as her.

It pained Samara to know that she had to leave this child soon.

---

"Jack", the young child spoke after a long period of silence, as they ate together in the safehouse.

"Pardon me?" Samara answered.

"My name", she explained between hungry bites. She ate as if this simple meal Samara had prepared had been the most delicious in the galaxy. "My name is Jack."

"Jack?", Samara asked, a hint of surprise in her voice. She hadn’t ever come across the name before, but then again, she rarely ventured outside asari space.

"It’s an old name. I saw it.. somewhere..", Jack replied, the image of the tattoo studio they’d passed on Omega flashung through her mind. "Jack’s Killer Ink."

She hoped she could visit Omega again, one day. Jack hoped she could get one of those tattoos, cover the marks on her skin.

---

"That’s what you want, kid? A tattoo?" The asari spoke with an amused smirk on her face. "And here I thought human girls your age wish for ponies, or those lego stones or whatever you call ‘em."

"What’s a pony?" Jack asked, innocently.

"Some kinda Earth creature- really cute and human kids love ‘em, I hear- ah, never mind. I’m just.. surprised ya wanna get inked, that’s all." Aethtya spoke. "Don’t really think it’s legal. I mean, you’re like— what, ten?"

"I don’t know. No one ever told me my age."

"Ah, crap. Know what. Think I can probably find someone who’ll get you a tattoo, whether you’re ten or not." The woman smiled. "Maybe we can get you a pony tattoo."

"I want a varren."

"A varren? Oh, right. You don’t strike to me as the pony type of girl, anyway. Way too fierce to be one. Alright, a varren tattoo, it’s gonna be."

[sepratron]

New tech tip just dropped

[lazygravez]

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[spiribia]

personal injury lawyer billboards are all like INJURED?

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

License to Kitty.

[sturgeonposting]

Do you love the colour of the sturgeon?

Which one?