guys i’m so sorry to say this but exercising and indulging in hobbies rather than scrolling on your phone for 200 hours actually does improve your mood and overall mental health, this has deeply upset me more than anyone
the year is 2035. the new beauty standard is for women to cut their ears off, as ears are a masculine trait which make the face look too big and hearing isnt necessary as it doesnt align with being demure. evil feminists say perhaps this is unnecessary and ears are natural. women are agressively proclaiming they are cutting their ears off due to sensory issues
i got this req for the op men on my older blog. after months *cough, maybe a year* i FINALLY have the motivation to write this.
☆ nxde!
— a one piece fanfic // where you make a grave mistake.
[MODERN AU]
synopsis: the effects a picture can have on a man are things you couldn't have believed.
pairing: afab!reader x monkey d. luffy, roronoa zoro, vinsmoke sanji, portgas d. ace, trafalgar d. water law.
cw: NOT PROOFREAD. MDNI. YOU KNOW THE DRILL. super short drabbles. nsfw includes: screenshots. dry-humping. mast*rbation. sorta public (??). sanji's nosebleed. edging (sorta??). c*mming untouched (sorta??). pocket p*ssy. they feel guilty but really do they?? that's all.
old m.list. | new m.list.
✮⋆˙ monkey d. luffy:
he blinks once, then again, and again. just a moment ago, he was lazily stretching his body on the bed, doomscrolling until he found himself falling asleep. but now? all sleep has left his body at a moment's notice. he sits up straight and blinks yet again. quickly switching to your contact, he checks and re-checks your number. once. twice. thrice. did you get... hacked? did he get hacked?!
at once, he sends you a text back: did you mean to send this to me?
well, it wasn't like he didn't appreciate the picture. you, in such a snug-fitting pair of lingerie. the frilly lace contouring each curve of yours while exposing all to his hungry eyes. the lewd expression on your face as you cupped your tits. all of it was so pretty. so, forgive him that he found his hands quickly working to take a screenshot of it... just in case you deleted the picture. it's innocent, though! he won't show anyone... of course not. but he can't ignore it either. can't ignore you.
he wonders vaguely who you meant to send it to. was it him? or was it meant for someone else and he just found himself entangled in a happy accident?
his cock strains against his jean shorts. eyeing the photo, luffy huffs as he palms himself through the thick fabric. catching his bottom lip between his teeth, he tugs his cock free. it hits his abdomen with a muted thud! and for a second, monkey d. luffy stops completely. it wasn't that he hadn't done this before. masturbated, that is. but to you... to his friend?
maybe he shouldn't do this.
but then his fingers betray him as he finds himself zooming into the picture. it's only our of curiosity, though. you are his friend; a friend that is bare in front of him, but a friend nonetheless. he looks at it all - from the gentle slopes of your chest, to the fat of your waist, and your bare pussy peaking through. groaning, he tugs on his tip with harsh flicks of his wrist. under his hold, his tip beads out drops of pearlescent pre that smear his palm whole. he groans, tightening his grip around his tip till the flushed globe coughs out thin tendrils of pre that drip down his cock. okay... he wasn't being just curious now.
what was he doing? you two were just friends. was he so depraved that he was gonna seriously jerk off to you? but then again... god, it felt so good. he could almost imagine you on top of him, taking him into your pretty cunt all so easily.
"shit..." he gasps, moving his hand up and down as he zooms onto your face next. half of your face is visible, the other carefully hidden behind your phone. he groans, closing his eyes as his mind conjures up vivid pictures of your lewd face. in his mind, you take him whole into your mouth and it's your soft palm that fucks his cock into a sporadic orgasm. you keep shifting, moving from his lips to his neck to his cock. you kiss his tip and suck it too, then you softly jerk him off.
"oh- ohh shit," he quickens his pace. his phone grows sweaty in his palms. his toes curls and stomach tightens. and when luffy finally comes, light splatters of his cum fan across the screen of his phone, right on your pic. he breathes hard, closes his eyes and fists his base. shit. what had he done? broken past the title of "just friends"?
a ding! brings his attention to his phone. he furrows his eyebrows, seeing a text from you. he expects apologies or maybe just a deleted message. he breaths heavily, knowing already that if you decided to delete the picture, he would have a screenshot. even if that wasn't the most friend-like thing to do. but instead of doing any of that, he just finds a simple text: hey luff... do you wanna maybe come over?
✮⋆˙ roronoa zoro:
roronoa zoro ignored it. he opened the picture, stared at it for a total of three microseconds and then promptly closed it. it wasn't like he didn't like the view, or the fact that he wasn't welcome to nudes... it was a variety of factors that made him step away.
first, he was at the gym, so, as soon as he opened the picture, he looked around and promptly shut it. what if someone else saw?! second, he couldn't be having a fucking boner mid-workout. the gym would label him the local pervert and have him banned. third, you two were friends. no matter how dense roronoa found himself to be, he knew that was a line neither of you dared to close. no amount of flirty one-liners and drunken nights could change that.
so, he shut your chat and put it out of his mind. no text backs, no questions asking you if you "really meant this for him." nothing. and he ignored it the entire day. he didn't dare open it after the gym, or on the drive back, or when he was showering and realized that masturbation was just one little decision away. fuck, he even ignored it when he was in the comfort of his own bed, lazing about. he refused to let himself cross that line.
but then... why was he searching for your chat in the dead of the night?
the only light came from his screen, with the rest of his room being doused in a comfortable darkness. he sighs heavily as he finds the picture intact. you hadn't deleted it yet. did you not realize who you had sent it to... or did you not care?
either ways, roronoa zoro feels his breath growing laboured as he turns his body around and puts a pillow in between his thighs to contain his raging boner. it's not like he was gonna jerk off to you... he wasn't... but his hips rolled on their own accord. he hisses as he humps the pillow, rubbing his erection against the fluffy surface.
his first instinct is to look down, stuff his face into the washed linen sheets and forget who he is even jerking off to. but he can't. his eyes refuse to leave the screen, the deepest desires of his mind refuse to let him run away from this little fantasy. so, he gives in.
zooming in, he licks his lips as he takes in your features. mindlessly, his pace fastens. the bed creaks under his hasty moves but he doesn't care. the roll of his pelvis is so addictive. through strained grunts and curses, he can't help but wander off to restricted fantasies. like what it'll feel like... inside you. his thin shorts and the pillowcase rub so deliciously against his throbbing length, catching his mushroom tip in a stutter.
"god— fuck." zoro sighs into the air, his narrow eyes focused on your picture. it's pathetic, the way he's getting off to a picture of you in the dead of the night. he was never that desperate, never that hollow within that he fucked his sheets and gasped out rough rumbles of your name. but look at him now; yielding to the temptations of the flesh. he fastens his pace, burying his head into the sheets and breathing heavily as the obscene images of you taking in his cock defiles his mind.
you — all broken whines and reddened face, and him — all stuttering hips and strained grunts. his fist tightens around his mobile screen as he feels his cum ribbon out of his cock. it pools in between his shorts and the sheets, soiling them both. the wet patch under him grows.
zoro lifts his gaze to your photo, and swallows thickly. something in air shifts. he has crossed the line. clearly. what the fuck was he supposed to do now?! before he can work his thick head into a headache, he decides to slump down and sigh out a defeated breath.
but his rest is quickly interrupted. an unassuming ding! makes the stoic man furrow his brows and look up. a simple text stands: did you seriously leave me on seen, zoro?
✮⋆˙ vinsmoke sanji:
"uh— ex-excuse me." sanji mumbles in a shiver, slipping past his coworkers and into the work washroom. he closes the door far too loudly behind him, his jelly-like legs carrying him to the nearest stall where he all but collapses.
his breath is strained, sweat beading on his temple as he opens your message gingerly, as if any hasty mistake and he would find himself losing your precious picture. swallowing, he feels something hot trickle down his face.
"s-hit—" he hisses, his phone almost slipping from his sweaty palms and onto the floor below. gaining consciousness of his condition, the michelin star chef quickly presses the arm of his chef uniform into his nose to contain the bleeding. the blood soaks through the white, and sanji vaguely wonders about the dry-cleaning. but that thought doesn't hold his attention for long, not with you in front of him, not with his dick practically begging for relief under his slacks.
groaning, he balances his phone on his thigh. one hand is still wrapped around his nose, and another palms his erection with the heel of his palm. he bites down his lips to contain in his mewls. he is still at work, he reminds himself. but it feels so good. no matter how many times he had fucked into his fist late at night, thinking of you and your heavenly body, nothing could have compared to this, to an actual picture of you taunting him.
he breathes heavily, the smell of iron hanging lowly in the air tainting it all. but he doesn't pop open the button to his slacks even as his desperate movements create a small patch of pre in the front of his pants. he wants to respect his profession. rubbing one out before going back into the kitchen and cooking for someone?! blasphemous. but you... god. you are changing his morality for better or worse. because vinsmoke sanji's sanity has been reduced to one thing currently: you; half-naked, posed and just hellbent on leading him to his eternal damnation in a stuffy little stall. what were you doing to him?!
thoughts cloud over him. do you need him? did you meant to send this to him? what if this was a mistake and he was just some pervert holed up in a small stall, rutting against his own palm? despite his doubts, sanji can't help but dig his palm harder against his crotch. he wants you, nay, needs you. that much is evident from the desperate roll of his hips against his own hand.
"SANJI-?" the main door swings open as he hears his coworker call out his name. he calls again, "ZEFF WANTS TO SEE YOU. COME OUT QUICK."
the phone almost falls again as sanji yelps at the intrusion. instinctively, sanji shuts off his phone (but not before taking a quick screenshot for later... just in case.)
"uh- COMING. HOLD ON." he stands up, quickly shuffling around the fabric bunching around his crotch. tugging down his white uniform, he's grateful to see the pristine fabric cover his embarrassing bulge. but the relief is short-lived.
when he emerges out of the stall sweaty and flushed, his coworker yelps, "OH MY GOD, YOUR CLOTHES ARE ALL BLOODIED?!"
sanji nods, quickly catching up with the forgotten fact of blood on his face, "ah... yes. 's a..." he shifts his pants slowly, "uh, nosebleed."
"YOU SHOULD GO HOME!"
despite being the type of chef that never takes a day off, that never leaves in the middle of the shift. with your picture eagerly waiting in his phone, he can't help but entertain the idea of returning to his home and honoring his body's needs. he nods, very quickly at that. "yeah. maybe i sh-should go back home..."
but little does vinsmoke sanji know that there's a message from your side, one that reads: think you can come over after your shift?
✮⋆˙ portgas d. ace:
ace had asked you for the organic chem assignment. he was so short on time with it being 11:30 already and with the assignment being due at 11:59. with every hope out of the window, he had relied on his class topper to send in the assignment in time. all he had to do was copy and paste your assignment but instead... you had decided to play a cruel joke on him. you decided to send him... nudes?!
hunched over his desk and staring at your picture with wide-eyes and an even wider, parted lips, ace all but forgot how to breathe. his fingers dug into the glass screen, his fingernails all but cracking the screen.
it was far too late at night, with his entire room shrouded in darkness. somewhere down the hall, his brothers were probably busy with their own things and here he was... staring at the student union president's tits?!
"w-what the fuck." his lips wobble, frenzied eyes fixated on your picture. immediately, he sends you back a text: hey. i think you sent me the wrong file.
and though his reply sounds calm and collected, he barely is. portgas d. ace is losing his sanity with every strained, stuffy breath he takes in. his erection tents in his pants and he works on autopilot, searching about his drawer for that pocket-pussy he got as a gift one drunken night.
he's never used it. he finds it pathetic, if he's being completely honest. but with you like this? with you kneeling down, upper body jut forward with your soft tits right in front of him? with the curvature of your waist and hips enticing him into unzipping his pants? only his palms cannot suffice him right now. he needs more. he needs you. or something that could be a cheap copy of you.
ace holds his oversized tee up, clenching the fabric in between his teeth. his flushed cockhead greets him shyly and he finds himself pouring lube into the "self-help" device. holding the silicone mold steady, he slides in in with a muted hiss. the lube is cold against his overheated cock, the silicone so tight. he gasps, "f-oh shit."
he moves it up and down in a steady rhythm, his jaw ticking and burning with each dragged out, unsteady breath. the rise and fall of his chest syncs with the torturous tugs of the toy on his cock.
"s-shit..." he fastens his speed, furrowing his brow and staring at your picture, almost picturing your pretty, glossed mouth on his cock instead. he wondered how far you'd let him push, how far he could slide his tip into the back of your mouth before you choked and cried 'round him. "f-nghh- fuck."
he throws his head back, slumping back on his gaming chair. his monitor gleams with the long forgotten assignment open but all ace can do is clench his eyes shut and fuck his hips upwards into the unforgiving toy.
when ace cums, the white fluids dribbles down the overflowing toy and down his length, splattering against the neat trim of hair. he shudders and sighs, running a hand through his sweaty locks. his throat is parched, cock achy and throbbing and sweats ruined. and he just came to a picture of the student union president. what the fuck was life at this point?
he has barely collected his puddling thoughts when a pop-up from you flashes on the bottom right of his monitor screen. he leans in quick, a gluttonous bastard-like part in him expecting another sweet picture. but instead he finds a quick: oh shit, did i send in the wrong thing? my bad!
with a bleary gaze, ace brings his attention to the time. it flashes 12:05 a.m. and ace groans, knowing he just failed to submit the assignment in time. before he can lament, however, you send him another text. and this one? this has him almost throwing that pathetic silicone toy to the side in a feverish search through his drawers for his wallet and car keys.
your text is plain and simple: oh... well, sorry. i know that the deadline passed. but incase you still want that assignment, maybe come over? i'm free rn. i'll give it to you in person.
✮⋆˙ trafalgar d. water law:
law knew being lab partners came with a lot of unspoken rules. you had to share credit for all works, share notes and ideas, and work together. he didn't know among "sharing" things, sharing nudes was somewhere down that list. he doubted that it was.
he croaks when he receives it, immediately shutting his phone and almost chucking it out of window of his soulless dorm. his room is quiet, save for his roommate bepo's soft snores. law blinks his eyes shut from the sheer stress of this moment. what the hell did you just send him?! he flinches even with his eyes shut. it definitely doesn't help that the picture is practically burned into his retina.
you didn't mean to send it to him. you couldn't. you and him were always so professional! always so focused on doing things the right way! you were a prim and proper lady! you couldn't have possibly sent it to him on your own accord. you... you probably meant to send it to someone else and sent him instead. and that means that it'll be wrong - both morally and logically - for law to jerk off to it.
his dick aches beneath his sleep shorts, and law mumbles under his breath, "oh for fucks' sake..."
across the room, bepo stirs in his sleep and law bites down his cheek and gets up. he was going to regret this later. whipping around his neck quickly to check if you were somehow in his room, he tip-toes to the bathroom. once inside, the man tugs down his shorts and lets them hang around his knees. his erect dick stands in front of him, taunting, and with shaky fingers, he opens your chats.
the picture's still there. law opens it and stares at it. his palm almost flies to his dick, like that's all he was supposed to do, like that was all he was made for. he fists the base of his cock, tightening his grip around the appendage till it borderline hurts. he shouldn't do this. but then he moves his hand up 'n down slowly, taking his time with each slow, deliberate drag.
slowly, his pace catches on. he moves his skilled palms with expert ease over his veiny cock. his thumb moves quick across the screen of his mobile, zooming in onto all the lewd details of the picture. god. he holds his bottom lip between his teeth and cries out a chorus of grunts. his flesh is sensitive to the touch, like something so unwholly his, something that belongs more to you than to his.
trafalgar d. water law closes his eyes and loses himself in the feeling of his own rough, calloused palm tugging on his slimy cockhead. in his futile fantasies, you come to him. you straddle your hips over his, part open your thighs like you did in the picture and gulp up his member one inch at a time. law tightens his grip on his own cock, like imitating a poor impression of your velvety walls. his cock throbs under his hold and he quickly spits on it, imitating your wet, inviting cunt.
he loses himself into the feeling of his cock fucking into his fist, pretending it's you relieving him rather than his own hand. his orgasm comes rough and quick; something sudden that tears through his body.
as an aftermath, law slumps forward. his breath is laboured and back wet from sweat. his bleary vision falls to the floor, where pearlescent drops of his cum are splattered. before he can lament the clean-up session, someone knocks on his door.
bepo yawns, "how long are you gonna be in there? i gotta pee."
law widens his eyes and instinctively hides his phone behind his back, even with the closed door between him and his roommate. law clears his throat, "five mins."
"mhm. fine." his roommate yawns again.
law puts down his phone to a side carefully and busies himself with a quick cleanup. stuck in between cleaning the floor and his own thighs, he misses the soft chime of a notification. he'd only get to find this out thirteen minutes later, but you had just texted him: hey, law...? do you wanna do some lab work at my place next time?
a.n: my op fandom, i return to you after what seems like years of separation. missed you lots. enjoy the filth ya nasties. mwuah mwuah <3
old m.list. | new m.list.
I’ll be playing obey me and start giggling and kicking my feet at something and i lowk have to take a second because omg im getting flustered over a dating game. i’m such a freaking loser. just slime me out already.
please read this even if you're not indian. especially if you're not indian.
you've seen the jokes. india is "dirty", indians are "everywhere", why don't they fix their own country. ok. let me tell you why, and what's happening right now while nobody's watching.
first, the history you skipped: britain ruled india for two centuries and drained it. economist utsa patnaik's research estimates around $45 trillion in today's money was taken. the india that got independence in 1947 was one of the poorest countries on earth. every "why is india like this" question starts there. you don't get to profit off a robbery and then mock the crime scene.
now, what's happening RIGHT NOW:
in may the question paper for NEET leaked. that's the national medical entrance exam. over 2.2 million students took it. cancelled. years of studying, families' savings poured into coaching, gone overnight because someone sold the paper. students died by suicide after. these were kids who wanted to be doctors.
and out of that came a protest movement. a gen z group called the cockroach janta party, started by a 30 year old named abhijeet dipke, got 22 million instagram followers within DAYS. they've been doing a sit-in at jantar mantar in delhi demanding education minister dharmendra pradhan resign.
and then there's sonam wangchuk. if you've watched 3 idiots, he's the real engineer the character was based on. built solar schools in ladakh. invented ice stupas so himalayan villages have water. spent his whole life on education. he's 59 and he's been on hunger strike for 17+ days now. reporters went to see him this week and he was too weak to talk. and the troll armies are calling him "anti national" and "foreign funded". a man starving himself for other people's children. that's the thing here, anyone who asks a question is suddenly a traitor.
it's not one incident, it's everywhere you look:
• infrastructure worth thousands of crores failing within months of the ribbon cutting. tunnels collapsing in regions where heavy rain is a guarantee, not a surprise.
• youth unemployment near 10% for ages 15 to 29, 13.6% in cities. in a country of 1.42 billion where more than half the population is young.
• only about the top 3% of indians earn above 10 lakh a year. meanwhile billionaire wealth keeps ballooning and the headlines celebrate it.
• manipur burned for over two years. an ethnic conflict, tens of thousands displaced, and the prime minister barely said the word manipur while it happened.
• journalists raided. critics' houses bulldozed. activists sitting in jail for years without trial under laws like UAPA. our press freedom ranking has cratered.
• even the petrol is a fight now, ethanol blending pushed through while drivers complain about their engines and get no straight answers.
and through all of it, the PM, who came to power on religious polarisation (americans, sound familiar?), travels abroad for photo ops and has not held one single open press conference in over a decade. not one.
what i'm asking:
if you're not indian: share this. our media mostly won't cover any of it because the big outlets are owned by the same billionaires the government serves. the only reason wangchuk's fast is getting any coverage is people refusing to look away.
if you ARE indian: speak up even if you're comfortable. especially if you're comfortable. join the protests. add to this, correct me, translate it. staying quiet is a choice when nothing in this post touches your life.
india is not "dirty". india was robbed, and it's being robbed again, from the inside this time. but it's also the country where a 59 year old will starve for strangers' kids and 22 million young people will rally behind a party literally named after cockroaches, because cockroaches survive everything.
The fourth pillar of democracy in India is gone. We could count with one hand how many journalists will publish the actual truth. The rest only runs a narrative. So please share, reblog and spread the word. Op put it really eloquently and to the point.
the law enforcement is committing acts of brutality to pacify every protest. they are using tear gas, water cannons, sticks (laathis) embedded with iron nails to beat students with. among all this chaos, other law enforcement officers are sexually assaulting women and girls.
almost like icing on this cake, not a single law enforcement officer is wearing their name tag on their uniform. this effectively deletes any sort of accountability.
our mainstream media is too busy making bad green screen videos to push the narrative that the students are the real aggressors.
as of a few hours ago, communication from jantar mantar's protesters has been cut off.
i am 100% convinced that mobile phone/ social media bans for under 16s are an attempt to remove kids and teens from public life. this is not protecting kids this is locking them in houses with no escape from their abusers. the world is so hostile to teenagers rn
Apparently some people still need to hear this so: using an 'ai checker' is still using ai. If you are feeding someone's fic to one of these checkers, you will still not be sure their fic is ai because they are not 100% accurate, but you can be 100% sure that you are using ai. For fic. Furthermore you are doing the work of an ai scraper for them. You are, personally, feeding the machine. There is no actual excuse for using an ai checker on fanfic as a hobby. YOU are the problem.
If you think a fic is ai, mute it and move on. That's it. That's all you do.
Remember when Xbox was going to basically ban used games for the xbox one, and Playstation made fun of them with that video titled "how to share games on Playstation" and it was just one guy handing another a game disk? And now Playstation is getting rid of physical disks entirely
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