Hello , I Hope You're Doing Well..

Hello 👋, I hope you're doing well..

My name is Mahmoud, and I'm a 17-year-old from Gaza. The ongoing war has devastated my city, destroyed my school, and made daily life incredibly challenging.

Despite these hardships, I'm determined to continue my education and build a better future. I've been given a chance to study abroad, but I need help to cover the costs of leaving Gaza, as well as living expenses and other essentials abroad once the crossing opens.. 🙏

If you can, please consider donating or sharing, your kindness can truly make a difference, and thanks for your time. ❤🍉

https://gofund.me/bd3ccf0b 🔗

If you can donate to help them! Please check out their page

thoughts on saitama with an airhead lover?

um fucking awesome 🗣️🗣️🚨 omg I need more opm content!! Forgive me if this was not what u wanted 🗣️☝️ but I love comedy

PERMANENT IMPRESSIONS | Saitama x Gn!Airhead!Reader

Saitama stretched lazily on the couch, flipping through channels with a disinterested expression. His usual routine of hero work and mundane errands had left him feeling particularly bored today. Just as he was about to settle on a nature documentary, the front door swung open, and his lover, You bounded in with an exuberant grin.

“Saitama! Guess what I did today!” You exclaimed, bouncing on your toes.

Saitama raised an eyebrow, already bracing himself for whatever unpredictable adventure you had embarked on this time. “What did you do?”

You rolled up your sleeve to reveal a fresh tattoo of a mosquito on your forearm. Saitama’s eyes widened slightly as he took in the detailed design.

“A mosquito?” he asked, puzzled.

“Yeah! I got it to spite you,” You said proudly. “Remember that one mosquito you couldn’t kill? Well, now you have to look at it every day!”

Saitama sighed deeply, shaking his head. “You really went and got a tattoo of a mosquito just for that?”

“Absolutely,” they replied, beaming. “Isn’t it hilarious?”

Saitama rubbed his temples. “You do realize tattoos are permanent, right?”

You shrugged, unfazed. “Yeah, but it’s funny. Plus, it’s just one little tattoo.”

The next day, Saitama came home to find you with yet another new tattoo. This time, it was an intricate design of a robot on their upper arm.

“Let me guess,” Saitama said, dropping his grocery bags on the counter. “You got that because you think Genos is cool?”

“Exactly!” You said, eyes sparkling with excitement. “He’s so awesome with all his gadgets and stuff. I wanted to honor that.”

Saitama sighed, feeling a mix of amusement and exasperation. “You know you don’t need to get tattoos to show admiration, right?”

“But it looks so cool!” you protested, flexing your arm to show off the robot.

Days later, Saitama was unsurprised but still slightly dismayed when you revealed yet another new addition. This time, it was a large cross on your back.

“Why a cross?” Saitama asked, genuinely curious.

“It looks badass, doesn’t it?” you said, twirling to give him a full view. “I saw this design in a magazine and thought it would make me look tough.”

Saitama nodded slowly. “I guess it does look pretty cool. But are you sure you’re not going overboard with these tattoos?”

“No way!” You replied confidently. “I’m just getting started.”

A week later, Saitama walked into the living room to find you looking unusually sheepish.

“Saitama,” they began hesitantly, “I… might have made a mistake this time.”

Saitama raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “What happened?”

With a deep breath, you rolled up their sleeve to reveal a small, crude tattoo of a penis on your arm.

Saitama stared at it for a moment before bursting into laughter. “What in the world were you thinking?”

“I didn’t notice it when the artist was showing me the design,” you admitted, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I thought it was just a random doodle.”

Saitama wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. “You really need to start paying more attention before getting these done.”

“I know, I know,” they groaned. “I’m going to get it covered up as soon as possible.”

Saitama’s laughter died down, and he placed a reassuring hand on their shoulder. “You know, despite all the crazy things you do, I still love you.”

You looked up at him, their embarrassment fading. “Really?”

“Really,” Saitama confirmed with a smile. “But seriously, no more impulse tattoos.”

They nodded earnestly. “Okay, okay, lesson learned. No more impulse tattoos.”

“Yup.”

“But, what about an egg on my butt for a tattoo?”

“[Name].”

Can You Not?

Deadpool x Gn!Reader x Wolverine

summary: You’re supposed to be Althea’s caretaker ever since Wade hired you. Too bad for everyone because you’re not the sharpest tool in the shed.

“Well, it’s you and me, Al.” You put a hand on your waist.

“Hell no.” She responded.

“Yeah, I'm really glad Wade and Logan hired me but…” Rubbing the back of your head. “I’ve never done this kind of stuff.”

“Just don’t kill me.”

Your jaw hung low.

—

The first thing Deadpool and Wolverine noticed when they entered their home was the unmistakable sound of something large and metallic clanging against porcelain. The scene that greeted them was something neither of them had ever expected.

Deadpool, ever the optimist, rubbed his hands together with a mischievous grin. “Looks like someone’s having a bit of a rough day.”

Logan, ever the pragmatist, simply sighed and tried to make sense of the chaos. He followed Deadpool’s lead, heading towards the source of the noise. They found you stuck halfway inside the oven, with only your legs and feet visible as you frantically wiggled to get free.

It was a sight to behold.

“Uh, hey there, sugarplum. Need a hand?” Deadpool asked, struggling to suppress his laughter.

You looked up with wide, confused eyes, somehow managing a smile despite the awkward predicament. “Oh, hey! I was trying to get the… uh, cookies out, but I think they might’ve… escaped?”

Logan shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he approached and tried to pull you out. “Why on earth were you in the oven? What’s going on?”

“Well, I thought I’d give baking a shot, but then I… um, forgot the timer. And now it’s… well, sort of an oven mess.”

“Help me?” You asked sweetly.

The two shared a look and Wade rolled his sleeve up.

“Maximum effort.”

His grip on your legs was harsh and he really did try to pull you out. It sucked that your hair was stuck on a piece of the oven.

“AH— wait.”

Wade side eyed Logan. “A little help, peanut?”

Logan groaned, ripping you out from the oven.

You stumbled out with a sheepish grin. “Thanks.”

Deadpool peered inside the oven and groaned. “You’ve got a burnt lasagna in there and—are those… marshmallows?”

“Yeah, those were supposed to be for s’mores. I got a bit distracted.”

Logan’s brow furrowed as he examined the kitchen. “This place looks like a disaster zone.”

You nodded vigorously. “Oh, it’s been a bit of a day. I think I might’ve accidentally blown up the toilet earlier, too.”

Deadpool looked alarmed. “What do you mean, ‘blew up the toilet’?”

“Well, I was trying to clean it and used way too much cleaner and we ordered taco be—” You started to explain before being interrupted by a loud whoosh from the bathroom.

Logan, facepalming, grumbled, “What now?”

You shuffled over to the bathroom to reveal a very unhappy, very dirty toilet and a cloud of cleaner fumes that were just thrown in there. The scene was nothing short of disastrous. “Oops,” you mumbled.

“I think we’ve seen enough for today,” Deadpool said, trying to regain his composure. “Maybe we should help Al and then figure out how to get you out of trouble.”

You were just about to agree when the sound of wood splintering from the bedroom caught their attention. Deadpool and Logan rushed to find the bed in ruins, you sitting amid the wreckage with a distressed look on your face.

“I was just trying to fix the bed,” you explained, “but I might’ve used the wrong tools and, uh, now there’s a lot of splinters.”

“And broken bed.”

Logan couldn’t help but chuckle despite himself. “You know, it’s impressive how you manage to get into so much trouble with the simplest of tasks.”

Deadpool, ever the same, added, “You should really consider writing a memoir or something. ‘How to fuck everything, 101.”

“Probably. That’s what my mother always used to say.”

“Don’t compare me to your mother! I am your love interest in this. Call Logan your mommy instead.”

“Don’t.”

You gave a salute. “Got it, boss.”

Just as they were starting to clean up the mess, you decided to help with the repairs. You grabbed a nearby broom to sweep up the splinters, but in your enthusiasm, you tripped over a mug on the floor, sending it crashing to the ground.

“Oops!” you exclaimed, stumbling and accidentally knocking a cup of coffee into Wolverine’s lap. Now it looked like if he problems with peeing because it seemed like brown piss.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, Logan! Maybe, you can borrow my pants?”

Logan growled, and before he could react, a puff of smoke billowed from the nearby fireplace. You had unwittingly knocked a can of lighter fluid onto the logs, and now Wolverine was on fire!

He still looked hot though. Maybe even hotter since he was on fire!

“Wait, is that… oh crap!” Deadpool shouted, rushing over with a towel to smother the flames. “Not the flaming Wolverine!”

Logan rolled his eyes, trying to pat out the fire while glaring at you. “Seriously? You set me on fire, bub?”

“You’re alright now!” Deadpool said, grinning despite the chaos. “Let’s just move on to…”

Before Deadpool could finish, you tripped over the broom you’d been using, falling face-first into a potted plant. Dirt and leaves covered you as you lay there, looking completely bewildered.

You blinked once and then twice.

“I, uh, think I might’ve made things worse,” you said, emerging from the mess with a dirt-streaked face.

Logan sighed deeply but a small smile stayed on his face. “It’s like every time we turn around, you find a new way to cause trouble.”

Deadpool tried to stifle his laughter, though he was clearly failing. “You’re like a red flag at this point!”

“So are you though?” You spoke.

Logan snorted.

After hours of cleaning up and attempting to salvage what they could, Deadpool and Logan finally managed to get everything back in order. Blind Al, who had been observing the entire spectacle with a mix of amusement and exasperation, shook her head as she sipped her tea.

“Thanks for the help,” Al said dryly. “And for not setting the house on fire.”

You, still covered in a mixture of dirt and embarrassment, nodded. “I’ll try to be less of a disaster next time.”

Deadpool clapped you on the back. “It’s all part of the adventure. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? Condoms, hopefully.”

Logan, though exhausted, managed a small smile. “Here’s hoping it’s a bit less eventful.”

“So, I come here tomorrow too?”

“No you’re fired.”

“damn.”

a/n: me writing for the both of them bc I don’t find any for this 😭🙏🙏🙏 where r the chefs cooking?

please do not hit children. It makes them think this is regular behavior and tolerable. I’ve had people say “if your parents don’t hit you then they don’t love you.” Why? Because the parent told them that.

it is not excusable. I’m sure if the parent (who hits their kid) saw their child grow up and hit their own kids they’d be heartbroken not knowing that they instilled that mentality into the child.

it is cruel to hit children.

it is not "misguided". it is not "sometimes necessary." it is not "the best they could do with the information they had."

it is cruel to hit children.

even if they did "turn out fine" (which they don't.)

it is cruel to hit children.

to hit a child as "discipline" is to inflict pain on a human being who is much smaller than you, cannot defend themself, and is dependent on you for their survival, simply for the act of displeasing you and not following your orders. most people would find this morally horrifying if it was done to an animal.

it is cruel to hit children.

it teaches nothing except that pleasing you is more important than their well-being, and that violence against less powerful people is an acceptable response to things not going your way.

it is cruel to hit children.

me awakening the beast (geek) in me bc I remembered he existed:

wahhh time to rewatch movies, catch up on lore, binge shows, play with legos, and draw him (yay!!) and read fanfics!! :3

(he arched much more in that honda odyssey)