im-so-goddamn-tired

Latest Posts by im-so-goddamn-tired

Shoulda taken advice from edna

Batman #319 - "Never Give Up the Ghost!" (1980)

written by Len Wein art by Irv Novick, Bob Smith, & Glynis Wein

Unfortunately I don't own a gun, but I can dream of putting a pedo 6 feet under

In regards of the Trump government scraping all trans inclusion in its queer information portion of its websites I have made this thing. Spread the word. Don't let them pretend we never existed.

P.S: Don't like! Reblog! <3

Okokokokok so I usually don't reblog anything that I personally read for the sake of a family member who follows my acct

HOWEVER

I have been looking everywhere for this fic I stg. So I'm saving it for myself later on bc I love this fic a li-ittle too much (⁠˘⁠･⁠_⁠･⁠˘⁠)

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 1: The Change

“Happy birthday, to you,” your teacher, Mrs. Palmer, and classmates finish singing to you.

“Thank you, everyone,” you giggle, happy that everyone did something special for your birthday in the middle of class.

You’re now six-years-old and your Momma’s promised to take you to Little Luigi’s Pizza Place after school, where you’ll get to open your presents from her, as well as eat all the pizza you want and have a cookie pizza for free! You begged her to let you stay home, but she laughed and said that she had to meet her publisher for her upcoming book, but she promised that after she was done, she’d come check you out and the two of you would go celebrate your birthday.

You look up at the clock (good thing it’s digital, because you haven’t learned to read the old clocks yet!) and see that it’s almost time for lunch.

“Come on, Momma,” you mutter to yourself. “Get here, already.”

Seriously, you didn’t plan to eat lunch, so you didn’t bother packing lunch today!

Just then, the intercom above the door chimes.

“Mrs. Palmer,” the school secretary asks.

“Yes?”

“Can you please send Y/N Gould to the office, please? There’s someone here to see him.”

“Yes,” you cheer, making a few in the class laugh.

“Of course,” she responds before the device clicks off.

You grab your backpack and toss it over your back before rushing towards the door.

“Bye, Y/N,” one classmate says as you pass her.

“Happy birthday,” another says as you near the door.

“Enjoy your birthday, Y/N,” Mrs. Palmer says, her usual bright smile on her face. “We’ll see you tomorrow. Remember to have your worksheet done.”

And with that, you leave the room and skip down the hall to the main office, happy that your school is small so you don’t have to walk far. As you do, all you can think about is all the pizza you’re about to eat! And the chocolate chip cookie pizza that you get after that! And don’t forget about the presents! Maybe you’ll get the new Pokémon Platinum game for your DS, or a new stuffed animal, or maybe a new movie!

The suspense is practically tearing you apart and you enter the office, ready to greet your Momma when you see… Sheriff Foley. And he looks… sad. You look to the secretary, who’s standing behind him, and she has the same sad look.

“Y/N,” he says.

“Sheriff Foley,” you say, looking around to find Momma, but not finding her. “What’s wrong? Where’s Momma?”

“Son,” he says as the secretary begins to cry a bit. “I have some bad news.”

You feel a weird feeling in your stomach, like when you eat a bunch of ice cream and get sick, but this feeling is worse than that.

“What?”

“It’s about your momma. I got a call from the police in Vegas and they said there had been a car accident. Some drunk fool leaving a casino hit your mother’s car.”

You feel your heart stop at the words “hit” and “mother.”

“Is she ok,” you manage to say. “She’s at the hospital, right?”

The secretary’s crying becomes louder.

“I’m sorry, son,” he says, a tear falling from his eye. “He was going too fast when he hit her. She’s gone.”

“Gone? Like missing?” Now, you’re crying. “Why can’t they find her?”

“No, gone as in she’s no longer with us.”

“Like… she’s gone to heaven,” you whisper.

He nods and it’s then you feel your entire world collapse. You remember what Momma said about going to heaven when you saw a squirrel asleep on the side of the road. She’d said that he had gone to heaven after falling asleep and that he wouldn’t be waking up again. That he’d always be there.

“No,” you cry, tears and snot falling from your face. “No, she can’t be in heaven! She said she’d be here!”

Sheriff Foley takes you into his arms as you cry.

The next few days go by in a blur. You stay with Sheriff Foley and his wife until the funeral. Unfortunately, the accident was so bad that the casket had to stay closed, so you weren’t able to see her one last time before she’s put in her grave. The whole town of Goodsprings is there; she was an author writing best-selling romance novels set during the Age of Sail and a pillar of the community, so everyone wanted to be there to say their final goodbyes to her and their condolences to you.

You said nothing during the whole thing. You hadn’t said anything since Sheriff Foley told you that Momma had gone to heaven and that she wouldn’t be back. The only noise to leave you is the sound of crying.

“Y/N,” he says as you watch the grave be filled with dirt. “When we leave, we’ll have to go by your house. You need to pack anything you need.”

“Why,” you ask, your voice sore from crying for days.

“Because a man is waiting there for you and when you have everything you need, he’ll take you to McCarran Airport. From there, you’ll go to Gotham City in New Jersey.”

You couldn’t believe your ears, first you lose Momma and now you’re losing your home?

“Why do I have to leave,” you say, tears streaming down your face.

“Because the county did some checking and found your father through a DNA test.”

You freeze at that. Your Daddy?

“Momma, do I have a Daddy,” you asked her once.

“You do, baby, but he doesn’t know about you,” she answered. “We met years ago, back when Momma was young and dumb. When I found out I was having you, I couldn’t find him. That’s when I realized I had to act right.” She rubbed her hand through your hair. “It’s thanks to you that I’m not like that anymore.”

That conversation goes through your head as you ride back to your house. You’re actually going to meet your Daddy? When you pull up to your house you see a fancy car sitting in the driveway and an elderly man in a suit standing next to it, watching you as you get out.

“I’m sorry, who’re you,” Sheriff Foley asks.

“Alfred Pennyworth,” the man says, bowing a little. “Butler to the Wayne Family. I apologize, Sheriff, but I’m afraid Master Bruce was unable to get away. Urgent business at Wayne Enterprises demanded his attention.”

“More urgent than his son?”

You can see the butler slightly flinch at that, despite how good he tries to hide it.

“I understand your frustration. I expressed the same sentiments, but Master Bruce couldn’t be persuaded to leave the matter to Mr. Fox.” He looks down at you. “I trust this is young Master Y/N?”

You can’t help but duck behind the sheriff’s legs to hide from him.

“Yeah, this is him.”

“I’m glad to meet you, though I wish it was under more joyous circumstances. You have my most sincere condolences for your loss.”

“Thank you,” you say, looking down at the ground.

“Come on, son, let’s get all your stuff packed.”

The three of you spend the next hour packing all your toys and clothes into cardboard boxes. When asked about your bed, dresser, and other larger things, Alfred said a room had already been prepared for you with a king sized bed and a dresser with room for all your clothes and more.

“Should you require anything else, I will ensure Master Bruce provides it.”

“What will happen to the house,” you finally ask Sheriff Foley, afraid for what he would say.

“Your momma already paid off her house and her will said that everything that’s hers goes to you. For now, the county will care for it until you turn eighteen, which is when you can inherit it.”

Hearing that should’ve made you feel better, but it didn’t because you’d have to wait so long to come back and even then, Momma still wouldn’t be here. As the two adults packed up the last of the boxes in the fancy rental car, you slipped away into your Momma’s office at the back of the first story. You slide open the doors, expecting to see her at her desk, working on her latest story like you’d done so many times before, but this time, an empty room and silence greets you.

You enter her office and hop into the big revolving chair, her favorite perfume still lingering from the morning of your birthday. You look at the desk and find something that takes your breath away: her favorite gold ink pen. One day, you’d asked her why your last name was Gould and she’d told you that your family came from a long line of goldsmiths who once made jewelry and other small things for rich people. Momma’s Daddy still worked with metal, even after the family practice was shut down, and when she said she was going to become a writer, he made her a gold ink pen to bring her good luck. You pick it up, looking at the beautiful design, and begin to tear up.

She carried it everywhere she went, so seeing it here cements the fact that she’s not coming back. Maybe if she wasn’t in a big hurry that morning, she would’ve remembered to take it with her and the accident never would’ve happened. And she’d still be here with you.

“Y/N,” the Sheriff says as he enters the office. “We finished packing everything. Are you ready to go?”

You want to say no and refuse to leave, but you know that you can’t stay here. You quietly pocket the pen and follow him to the car, where Alfred waits for you.

“Alright, son, be good for Mr. Pennyworth here. Do what he says and be a good boy like your momma taught you.” He gives you a hug and you wish it would never end, because then you’d never have to leave your home. “You’ll be back before you know it, and your home will be here waiting for you.”

A with that, you get into the car with Mr. Pennyworth and begin the drive to the airport. You use the mirror to see your house one last time, seeing it get smaller and smaller until it’s out of sight.

“I know this is sudden after the loss of your mother, but I promise Master Bruce and I will do everything we can to make Wayne Manor a home for you.”

“What’s it like?”

“The manor? It’s a large estate with a long and storied history that dates back to the early days of Gotham. There’s plenty of rooms for you to explore.”

“And what about my Daddy? What’s he like?”

“Master Bruce is a skilled businessman and one of Gotham’s biggest socialites. He’s also the adoptive father of Masters Dick and Jason.”

“He already has kids? Would they be my brothers?”

You’d heard of several of your classmates having older and younger siblings and had thought about having a brother or a sister. What would it be like to carry around someone younger than you or be care for by someone older than you.

“Master Dick would be your older brother, but he’s now living at the manor right now. He’s off finding himself right now, but I have no doubt that he’ll be back one day.”

“What about Jason?”

Mr. Pennyworth frowns at your words and you feel afraid that you’ve said something wrong.

“Master Jason would be your older brother, as well, but he was taken from us. With any luck, he and your mother have met one another.”

Oh…

“When did he go to heaven?”

“He left us a few months ago, but it feels just like yesterday.”

And with that, the talk is over. You two arrive at the airport and after the butler returns the rental car, he guides you to the gate where a private jet awaits the two of you. You can’t help but be amazed that you’re riding in a private jet that looks so much better than the ones you’ve seen on tv. You sit in one of the seats and it’s way softer than your bed.

“Master Y/N, we’re getting ready for takeoff,” the butler says as he puts his seatbelt on. “Put your seatbelt on.”

You do as you’re told and before you know it, you feel the jet begin to move. You hurry to look out the window to see everything moving past before the jet begins to fly. You stare out the window, watching Nevada, the state you’ve called home, get smaller and smaller until you’re above the clouds, unable to see anything, even the massive buildings of the Strip, which could be seen for miles.

It’s then you realize that this is real, that you’re leaving everything you’ve ever known and won’t be back for years and tears begin to fall from your face. You’ve spent the last few days crying so much that you’d think that you’d think that you would run out of tears, but apparently not. Not wanting to disturb Mr. Pennyworth, you face the window and bite your lower lip to stop making noises.

Somehow the flight seemed to be both long lasting and not long enough, because eventually, you saw a city show up below you. You squint your eyes to get a better look through the smog and see many tall buildings, all of the having those scary stone creatures you saw on a movie once.

“Welcome to Gotham City, Master Y/N.”

A/N: I’m hoping to make this a series that sees somewhat regular updates, but don’t quote me on that. I’ve been getting back into Resident Evil and I look up Yandere Batfamily stuff on this site so much it’s not even funny. Sorry if the first chapter was so long, but I thought if the first chapter was long enough, people would forgive me if future chapters are a bit lacking. Also, this series is heavily influenced by several of my favorite users, like @acid-ixx , @gotham-daydreams , @luludeluluramblings , and @darkstaria . You should totally check them all out.

WHO ARE YOU AND HOW DID YOU GET IN MY HOUSE

Tubi Cowboy tryna lasso some last minute plans tonight. You in?

Coolio @ramsighting

.

official elon musk hate post reblog to hate like to hate reply to hate

Right back where I began (kinda , I'm gender fluid)

I keep seeing people responding to the executive order Trump signed defining biological sex as being fixed at conception, and everyone's making the same joke that it means all Americans are women now because all embryos develop as female at first (hence male nipples).

However, since the order declared biological sex to be based on what gametes (sex cells i.e. sperm or egg) one produces, then that obviously means that no one has a biological sex since no one produces gametes at conception. Congrats Trump! Everyone's non-binary now.

Very punk /nj

Remember kids: one of the punkest things you can do right now is to look out for your neighbors and make sure they are safe

I HATE fascists. All my homies hate fascists.

If you're a fascist, fuck you and I hope you stub your toe SO HARD that you disintegrate

The fact that this is 80 fucking years ago but still just as relevant is terrifying.

I can't donate (I'm poor, sorry), but the least I can do is spread the word

Most of us will never know the agony of being a parent that does everything to provide for their child, only to keep coming up empty. Of the immense suffering and self-loathing that comes with being responsible for this little life, and feeling like you're failing: to keep them safe, warm, sheltered, fed. Of holding your child, your toddler, your newborn, watching them slowly waste away from that relentless, gnawing hunger you can't stop (one that you feel yourself). Watching as they howl in pain, and the hollowness that comes when your child becomes too weak even to do that. All the while being totally helpless to stop it because it's not up to you.

Most of us will only see the aftermath of such a thing: a parent carrying the far-too-light shroud of their child, pictured under a headline that details how starvation has taken hold of some given population. Distant and removed from us.

Except that it isn't. There are so many desperate parents who've run out of options, for whom this isn't some abstraction, who are asking—begging—us for our help. Just so they'll be able to buy some of the shit canned food left from the last aid delivery, and a couple loaves of bread to feed their children with. Extortionately pricey because of scarcity, but it's enough to keep their children in a state of "acute malnutrition" rather than "catastrophic hunger", so they'll pay anything for it.

Attacks on NGOs & prevention of aid into Gaza puts every single person there at risk of a slow death due to starvation. Especially children, like Samah's newborn baby boy, her little 2 year-old girl, and their big sister (who's only 9). But we can help. What's pocket money for us, is an invaluable lifeline to parents like Samah. At a time when so many seem to have decided to live in an alternate universe in which deliberate starvation and mass slaughter of civilians is acceptable, we have to do what we can to oppose it. Not to push it away, to ignore it, to decide it's been going on so long we don't care or that it's hopeless so give up, but to grit our teeth, dig our heels in, and say "no, seriously, what the fuck are we doing here?"

tldr: donate to Samah so she can buy food for her kids so they don't starve to death. please. and thank you. :)

(vetted by association by @/bilal-salah0 (relatives), & Bilal was vetted here, #132)

sorry about this, tagging for reach, but let me know if you'd like off

@cozy2000 @orphetoon @catgirl-kaiju @dykentery @ossifer

@crusty @libelelle @coastalhorrors @tenderscience @tiercel

@borrelia @nvtxl @nonbinary-watanuki @bigandgreedy

@verdiesque @6oys @metamorphesque

@eremes @whatcoloristhatcat @waterloggedsoliloquy @antisocialxconstruct @mirrorhouse

@gothhabiba @capybara @femmesbians @specialmouse @s9sh9

@jesse-pinko @leechloach @dadpilled @gojobait @thedyke

@c-rberus @ilovenanu @mlm-blues @void-flesh @stellarfalls

@queerpyracy @lakesbian @bitegore @u3pxx @crtvirus

@d-druxy @pornogrind @rubyfunkey @muscosus

@hexhomos @soymikki @spoiled-ojousama @rosamundpkes

Please call this number if you are in need.

friends will miss you, family (blood or not) will miss you.

I will miss you, we may not know each other, but I know it would a goddamn shame if you weren't here

IMPORTANT!!!

PLEASE DON'T TAKE YOUR LIFE! AS A FELLOW TRAN PERSON, PLEASE DON'T LET THEM WIN, DON'T TAKE YOUR LIFE!!!

This is and always has been a safe space

Trans people are welcome

Women and afab people are welcome

Black, brown, Asian, Hispanic, indigenous people are welcome

Queer people are welcome

Remember that this affects everyone. No matter how safe you think you are.

Please. I love all of you.

Please

Dont

Take

Your

Life

Please, if anyone can donate to my PayPal account, this is the number. Please do not hesitate to help a mother who has nothing to do +972592479502

_

Please my friend, I know you are tired of hearing about our problems, but I swear I can't help it My son and I have been in the street since yesterday, fleeing death and shells. Please, we are not without shelter. Please we need to buy a tent to protect us from the cold its price is expensive 1500$ please donate to save our lives please I beg you donate anything the smallest thing that makes a difference in saving our lives 😭😭💔🙏https://gofund.me/d373daca

I'm not in a place where I can donate, but at the least I can put it out there for others to see and hopefully help

Dear Friend 🌺🕊

I hope this message finds you well. I want to express my heartfelt gratitude for your support during this difficult time. Due to the conflict in Gaza, we have lost everything—our new home and my husband Ashraf’s job. Our son Yamen was born just months after the war began, and his future is uncertain.

We urgently need help to raise funds for our safe evacuation. After six months of fundraising, we’ve reached half of our €20,000 goal. I would be truly grateful if you could share a post about our situation and encourage support. Your assistance can make a significant difference for Yamen’s future.

Our campaign is verified by:

✅️ @gazavetters

✅️ @gaza-evacuation-funds

✅️ @90-ghost

Thank you for your kindness; it means the world to us.

Warm regards, 🌺

Ghadeer Al Arqan

(Ashraf's wife)

No problem

Hello dears ! I am asking you to support my campaign to help me to reach my goal. I am now in bad need to your support to help me stay alive and safe. Gaza is a very dangerous place either on the level of livelihood or on the level of souls. I need your monetary support to ensble me to get the basic needs for my family till Rafah crossing point reopens to move my family to safety and peace.Pleasd help a family be alive through your small donations or througn your shares to others.Thank you so much for your stand beside people in need .

.

Dear Friend 🌺🕊

I want to express my sincere gratitude for your kindness during this challenging time. We have lost everything due to the conflict in Gaza—our newly built home and my husband's job. Our son, Yamen, was born just months after the war began, and his future remains uncertain. Ashraf is working tirelessly to secure a better future for us.

I would be immensely grateful if you could consider a small donation of €10 or €20. If you are unable to contribute financially, please consider sharing my pinned post. Your support can make a significant difference for Yamen’s future and will help us navigate this crisis as we strive for a brighter tomorrow.

Warm regards, 🌺

Ghadeer Al Arqan

(Ashraf's wife)

Our campaign is verified by:

✅️ @gazavetters

✅️ @gaza-evacuation-funds

✅️ @90-ghost

Thank you for your support; it truly means the world to us.

👍

The few good things that f@c3b00k offers is not even from them, it's from the people.

Saw this on one of my rare visits to Facebook hell. Thought y'all would want to know

All seriousness, I've never had this much interaction on Tumblr (good or bad), and all this from posting that I was gonna make the LeBlanc Special.

Thanks for interacting :)

Me thinking what would happen anytime I looked away from the curry:

how does one make curry without milk or its just a japanese thing ?

(I'm not an expert, I just like cooking, so here's what I think.)

For the recipe, towards the end you end up putting plain yogurt (whether it was low fat or not, didn't matter), so in the end you still put some kind of dairy product in, which helps with the last of creaminess(?), along with the spiced flour helping with the consistency as it helps thicken the sauce.

Also, (I'm not Japanese) a lot of curry recipes don't always use milk per say, but some other dairy product or non-dairy product.

Thai curry usually doesn't use milk, but rather coconut milk to get that velvety soup like texture. Indian curry often don't use milk but rather yogurt, cream, or a little water for theirs.

A lot of Japanese curry does use milk, however it can be substituted with adding honey or plain yogurt or other non-dairy substitutes (i.e. coconut milk)

Of course, take what I say with a grain of salt.

I don't make curry a lot, so I could be wrong

This was the first time I made the LeBlanc curry, and I might change somethings the next time I make it.

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

Hope this (at all) helped, and sorry for the rambling

Everythings fine, it came out good

I'm making the LeBlanc Special curry. Wish me luck.

It went good, I'm kinda surprised.

Of course, it just needs to be refined, granted this is the first time I've ever made this

I'm making the LeBlanc Special curry. Wish me luck.

WHERES SOJIRO WHEN I NEED HIM

I'm making the LeBlanc Special curry. Wish me luck.

I'm making the LeBlanc Special curry. Wish me luck.

Marriage in Gaza has many facets: it has hardship, it has longing, it has sadness and pain, it has fatigue, laughter, and playing with what we cannot change and what we are trying to live with, it has the smells of time and the memories of my grandfathers and grandmothers, the generation of the first displaced people in Palestine. 💔🇵🇸

Gaza is resisting, the people of Gaza are resisting, the child of Gaza is resisting, the sheikh of Gaza is resisting, the women of Gaza are resisting, and every race in Gaza is resisting. do what you can for me 💔🇵🇸 👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇

My Instagram account 👇

https://instagram.com/raniamuhanna

#riding_with_the_wild_hunt @vakariansـbabe @7amaspayrollmanager @fairuzfan @fallahifag @sayruq @humanvoicebox @kaapstadgirly @sar-soor @dimonds456-art @Ficsforgaza @aria-ashryver @mangocheesecakes @el-shab-hussein @taamarrud @humanvoicebox @plomegranate @queerstudiesnatural @commissions4aid-international @nabulsi @still-lindigo @soon-palestine @communistchilchuck @palestinegenocide @northgazaupdates @ghost-and-a-half @kyra45-helping-others @kyra45 @feluka @occupationsurfer @elierlick @evelyn-art-05 @bibyebae @kaapstadgirl @ghost-and-a-half @bawuoooooom @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @marnota @toughknite @flower-tea-fairies @thetitancurse @vivisection-gf @communistchameleon @aria-ashryver @taamarrud @still-lindigo @soon-palestine @northgazaupdates @occupationsurfer @child-of-thecosmos @gayorc @pale-grunge-dark @helppeople @tsaricides

It should be batshit crazy hearing this, but I have a couple friends that this happened to.

Like, who are you to exclude someone from a fandom, you're all nerds (lovingly) who like the same thing, calm down.

But honestly, to whoever has this happen to them, it's NEVER your fault that some people in the same fandoms as you can't understand human decency

Shout out to all the Black ppl that can no longer participate directly in the fandom they love because of the stresses of racism 👍🏾 you contain multitudes of value and I'm sorry that the color of your skin and the power of your voice makes people not want to acknowledge that.

Here we go again

Sentenced to death with NAMI✌️

Don't wanna know whose shit we stole but it better have been good

married to kizaru

naaaahhh☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️

Maps really need to go stub their toe so hard that they disintegrate

The tags are everything I know. I am sharing this with every single one to try and spread the word.