
I'm Ai, and I scroll through random stuff! Feel free to DM me/give an ask if the stuff I reblog is triggering to you! I'll put a tw.
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Okay, Hear Me Out: Mean Girl!reader X Nerdy/sub!yandere
okay, hear me out: mean girl!reader x nerdy/sub!yandere
nerd!yan who gets bullied by you all the time, with harsh name calling and forcing him to do your homework.
nerd!yan who grows intrigued with you. you’re so confident, so pretty, so cool! how can he not like you?
nerd!yan who’s slowly growing more obsessed. his breath hitches whenever you loom over him with that annoyingly hot smirk of yours, calling him such mean, degrading names
nerd!yan who gets jealous whenever he sees you targeting someone else. you can’t bully them!! you should pay attention to him and only him. oh well, he’ll just have to eliminate the competition, so you can go back to “tormenting” him again.
nerd!yan who’s really such a pervert! he followed you home and was pleasuring himself to your scent that lingered on your clothing… such dirty behaviour!
mean girl!reader who returns home to find one of her classmates in her bedroom, and how can she not smile at the sight? he’s so pretty, such a cute little plaything…
mean girl!reader who had always been aware of nerd!yan’s obsessive tendencies, and played along. but now that he’s been caught red handed…
mean girl!reader who degrades poor nerd!yan for being such a disgusting pervert, but submits to nerd!yan’s fantasies anyway. she plays with him, leaving harsh love bites and scratches over his soft skin, reducing him to a moaning, whiney mess.
nerd!yan who’s basically your pet now, obediently following you throughout school, happily accepting all your orders, no matter how demeaning or gross they are.
people who even dare look your way with romantic interest? they get disposed of in…well, let’s just say, messy. oh, but not that nerd!yan will ever let you see it happen! your precious, beautiful eyes should be shielded from such violent acts. but if you ever ask… tilt your head playfully with a soft smile and ask him to let you watch, he might.
tldr; mean girl and a nerdy yandere that are both equally toxic for each other
have an awesome day!! I would really like to see you write a concept like this <3
-Ash
A/N: I'm including someone else's request as I think they mesh well together: "a mean bully!reader with a yandere!loser, where reader basically just uses him like a pet and has him do whatever she wants" I'll be doing my best, but do keep in mind this is written by a loser nerd so I can't guarantee accuracy. I also don't want to be too mean, even if it's hypothetical, y'know? 😭
Nerd! Loser! Yandere x Mean Girl! Bully! Reader
They say being in the right relationship motivates you to strive for the best version of yourself. Sometimes, the opposite is true. What happens when your soulmate brings out your most depraved self?
Content: female reader, mildly NSFW, obsessive behavior, violence, bullying, loser is meant in a loving way, yandere consents to everything

You really aren't that bad of a person. Or at least you weren't before you met the odd man you now call your boyfriend. How did it all begin? For the sake of full disclosure, alright, you have always been somewhat on the mean side. A little too sarcastic, a little too blunt, perhaps a little too harsh. You don't like soft people and have little patience for their stumbling attempts. But, you can hold your tongue as long as it doesn't involve you.
The meeting, at least from your point of view, was entirely accidental. Despite just starting your university year, your charisma had quickly gained you enough friends and acquaintances to have a stable sample of potential group partners. Except for one class. One single missing person, and you were asked to include a name you didn't recognize. Some young man who almost never showed up to class.
Oh, but he did. He was there for every lecture, for every seminar. His, and yours. His first encounter with you was not what most would call romantic. On day one he'd gotten lost. The crowded halls, the new environment, the noise, the smell, everything overwhelmed him, and he found himself wandering in a panic, until at last he bumped into you. The impact sent him straight onto the ground, books pathetically spilling from his trembling arms. You, on the other hand, remained standing as if nothing happened. "Pull yourself together, dumbass", you hissed through your teeth, looking into his eyes for one brief moment before moving on to your friends: "You have to give it to them straight, otherwise they'll think we're still in high school and someone will hold their hand all the time. It's embarrassing! Grown adults!"
He can't remember anything else from that day. Only your voice, your expression, your stance. Somehow, for whatever reason, that "dumbass" went straight to his heart. To think you'd look after him, a complete stranger. You were right, he needed to recollect himself and figure it out. Something even his own mother omitted to mention.
How he wished he could be like you. The way professors relied on you for discussions, the way your friends flocked for advice. But see, he knew you were faking most of it. That overly sweet smile and exaggerated politeness, all of it was a mask you'd learned to wear at any time. It only came off when dealing with people like him. There was a certain pride in that fact: he'd seen the real you. Not your "friends".
The more he thought about it, the more plagued by need he became. The need to hear you speak to him again, in that raw, unfiltered voice, with that disgusted glare piercing through his entire being. Thus, he did his best - as per your advice - to find another opportunity. The group work. One glance at him was enough for you to remember: "Ah, fuck, you're that dumbass from first day", you whined in frustration. Instant arousal.
And so, your unusual partnership began to develop. Or rather, your game of tormentor versus tormented. (Un)Paid actors and nothing more. It didn't take you long to notice his strange reaction to your verbal aggressions, almost as if the man relished in your ruthlessness. He seemed to know exactly what buttons to press in order to anger you. In return, you decided to see how far you could go until he'd finally cave in. From insults, to flicking him in the forehead, shoving him against the wall, ordering him around like a collared dog. You had your suspicions, but it all culminated when you went over to his little dorm room for a final project review. You'd gotten so upset - what did he even do? - that you pushed him hard into the ground and straddled him, holding onto the collar of his jacket and shouting profanities. A horrified grimace struck his face, and you froze. Have you gone too far? Was he finally going to ask that you stop, and put this strange charade behind? "P-please give me a moment, I..." he panted, frantically trying to move you aside. "I need to take care of myself. I'm so sorry." You hesitantly stood up and noticed the obvious erection in his pants.
You have a strange effect on him. He is not incapable; he knows it very well. And yet, the temptation is too great: to pretend, to exaggerate, to fail, anything to have you take the lead and lovingly scold him in the process. "What do you mean you're too anxious to present your part? Christ, you're useless. Utterly, completely useless." He can't wait to pleasure himself later to the memory of your words. Truly addicting. He doesn't mind being a doormat if it's your feet keeping him down. You bring out his most pathetic, perverted, deplorable self.
The same can be said about you. You've never been this mean to anyone. You hadn't even intended to reach this point, yet something keeps riling you up. Maybe it's his pleading pout whenever he's being reprimanded. The hooded, lustful eyes gazing up at you submissively and waiting for the next burning whip of your tongue. He brings out the worst in you and he loves every second of it.
You unlock the door and march into the bedroom (you've since moved in together). Without a warning, you grip his chin tightly and give the man a firm tug, forcing him to pay attention. "You did something, didn't you? I was supposed to meet with a classmate for coffee and he vanished without a trace. Won't answer my texts or calls." He shakes his head in denial at first, wide innocent eyes glistening in fear. Ah, he can't help it. His lips curl in a crooked grin. He's been caught. You shove two fingers in his mouth, and without delay he twirls his tongue around them hungrily. "What a psychotic bitch you are. You want to be the only one, huh? Is that what it is about?" Between the slurps and the whimpers, you can discern a hurried nod.
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More Posts from I-have-a-lot-of-ocs
Thank you for documenting my campaign from the following accounts:
@sar-soor @heba-20
@90-ghost @soon-palestine
@ibtisams
I love you all 🙏🙏♥️🌹
I am Mohammed Almanasra, 32 years old, married, and a father of three children: Abdulrahman, 6 years old, Sarah, 4 years old, and Lina, 3 years old.

My story began with the loss of my parents and four of my sisters who were bombed and lost their lives along with their children after the events of October 7 and the severe war on Gaza. Now, my wife, children, and I are displaced, without parents or siblings, living with our little cat that we embrace among us.

Recently, I moved to the south of the Gaza Strip, fearing for the lives of my children. We left behind our memories and our new home, for which we had not finished paying the installments, in addition to losing my job. Currently, I live in a tent that does not protect me from the heat of summer or the cold of winter, and without the minimum necessary livinng basics including water, food medical care, clothe and even bedding .

I suffer from a chronic asthma and severe attacks from tightness and an extreme allergy in the ear and I need medicine that are not available, or very expensive .


Under these difficult circumstances, after five attempts at displacement and narrowly escaping death from the bombing, I am trying with all my might to protect my family, the most precious thing I have.
My dreams were shattered, and my house was destroyed, and I found myself living in a tent no larger than 4 square metres. My work turned from a tailor to a street vendor in order to barely buy a few crumbs of bread to feed my children.


Look at what happened to my children because of the intense heat and the insects that thrive in the summer season. Every day, I take them to the hospital to treat them due to poisonous insect bites. I implore every kind-hearted soul to help me protect my children.



My son, Abdul Rahman, has a deep passion for playing football and is a devoted fan of Real Madrid. He always dreamed of playing football at his school, but the war prevented this dream from coming true.
Where are you, Real Madrid fans ?
Help Abdul Rahman achieve his dream.

Every donation will make an enormous difference in helping me save my family.
I feel very sad and embarrassed to ask for help, but I have no other options left. I know that this request is difficult, but I also know that there is still humanity and living consciences and I believe in miracles.
Your support during this extremely difficult time will give us hope in the midst of devastation and despair.
If you have any inquiries or questions, feel free to ask me, please!
To everyone with a compassionate heart,
To all who understand the essence of humanity,
This is a message from my innocent children, who trust that their words will reach everyone who truly understands the meaning of childhood.
We cry out to you, asking you to feel our sorrow and pain, and to extend a helping hand to us in this time when we are in desperate need of your mercy and compassion.
@communistchilchuck 🫶🇵🇸
@nabulsi
@sayruq
@communistchilchuck @90-ghost @sar-soor @fairuzfan @ibtisams @fallahifag @vakarians-babe @palipunk @palestinecharitycommissionsassoc @stil-lindigo @vakarian-shepard @northgazaupdates
@faggotfungus @ghost-and-a-half @three-croissants
Sincere greetings & thanks
Mohammed & the family

Literally

Limbustube
This!!
Like if they wanted to avoid the double meaning why not choose something like "The Dream's End" or "The Ending Dream"?? Why intentionally choose one with a double meaning?
Well let's just see when the Canto comes out
I’ve seen a lot of people discussing how the canto name ‘the dream ending’ doesn’t bode well for Don Quixote at all, but weirdly, I haven’t seen all too much discussion on how “the dream ending” itself has a double meaning.
“the dream ending” can mean, yes, ‘your dream is ending, your dream is dying’, but it can also mean a fairytale ending. The ending of a story that’s most ideal- pictureesque. Dreamlike.
and it just makes me wonder. I doubt this name, of all ways to convey the concept of a broken dream, would have been chosen if they Weren’t intending to use that double meaning to its full advantage, right?
and… of all her IDs, when does Don always have her dream broken? Between the Shi, W, T Corp… to even ‘happier’ Dons who have to eventually compromise their ideals, like the Cinq? What do all of them share?
When does Don Quixote’s dream end?
that’s right.
after she gets everything she wants.
Oh noooo
This-- this is troublesome---
1 is probably the most logically sound option here, since Gregor is one of the nicer and more normal sinners, and you get to block him from Hermann. But I personally don't want to smell him smoking. Still, it's the best option, considering the other seats.
2 is also pretty nice. You get to be further from the smoke, but I personally would dislike sitting next to Dongrang while having to hear Sonya and Rodya talk.
3 is honestly kind of the worst, but I would do it if it meant blocking Kromer from viewing Sinclair and vice-versa. Double check for prosthetics tho.
4... 4 is... fine. But if that is Erlking Heathcliff I am NOT going there.
5 is also fine, but it's a middle seat. Between the 2 sinners known to have some... "beef". with each other. I mean it's fine if you like both I guess. But I hate middle seats so I don't think I will pick it.
6 is probably one of the nicest seats. It's an aisle seat. But only if you can handle Outis. (And Dongrang from across (Can you tell I wanna punch that guy?))
7 is actually one of my top choices since I like Don! I would listen to her ramble about fixers! It would be really interesting, really! Well atleast to me... but I'll rethink simply because Ryoshu is smoking behind.
8. No. Just no. Too much smoke. I see Sinclair see Kromer. No. Abso-fucking-lutely not.

Goal: make the worst seating chart possible - Acheived




This is how chapter 3 went and you can't convince me otherwise.
