aizawaorkuroo
toji brainrot
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in light of israel's looming invasion on rafah, south africa implored the icj to call for the protection of palestinians with new preliminary orders. the icj denied this request, insisting that its january orders would be sufficient in ensuring the safety of people residing in rafah.
we have all seen how israel responded to the icj verdict earlier this month. they have all but intensified their attacks on palestinians, their favorite of whom seem to be children. this will end in a bloodbath. palestinians, already malnourished and living in literal tents, will be bombarded, they will be shot, they will be slaughtered. and when i say palestinians, a lot of them are actual toddlers. the videos coming out of this are proof enough.
at this point, it has been made amply clear that palestinians will never experience safety in their own homeland. a lot of the families in gaza are trying to raise funds to get out of it, because there's nowhere left to go.
there is nowhere left to go. if these people don't get the funds necessary to escape, they will die.
it's vital that you go to operation olive branch's spreadsheet, choose a family that resonates with you, and donate as much as you can to their gofundme. every last dollar counts. one dollar could be the difference between life and death for a family. please don't fall victim to the bystander effect. your contribution matters, however little it may be. and whether you're able to donate or not, spread this to as many people as you can. each second we stay silent is a second an entire family is brutally massacred.
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just imagine aki has to stop in the middle of fuckin u to take a smoke break
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me having a new idea for a relatively short fic:
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being whiny and needy with choso
you were the one that woke up extremely horny and touched starved (this time), but being the sweetie pie that he is he let you ride him until you come.
but you can’t.
you’re whining and whimpering because you just can’t get there yet. speeding up, slowing down, moving your hips in so many different ways. none of it is working, but you need to come so bad!
“baby”, he calls out to you, and you look at him with a hint of frustrated tears in your eyes.
“baby, shh just relax for me okay? i got you, let me take care of it, yeah?”, he whispers as he cradles your cheek in his hand.
as soon as you nod, he grips your hips and lifts you up and down on his cock, rolling your hips back and forth in a way that instantly makes your mouth open wide and your head fall back. you brace yourself on his pecs and he momentarily takes one of his hands off of your hips, his other holding a tighter grip to compensate. you look down at him and see that he uses his free hand to pick up one of yours, kissing your palm with his eyes locked on you. then, he holds your hand as he picks up his pace.
your mind was empty as your eyes stayed on his, knowing nothing else but him. you barely were able to think about how strong he was to be able to pick you up and down over and over with only one hand. your orgasm had crept up on you without you even paying attention.
“cho, i’m…it-”
“i know baby, i know. give it to me, please?”
he kisses your knuckles before putting his hand back on your hip, fucking up into you and he pulls you up and down against him. you arch your back and burrow your nails into his chest, holding on tight. your eyes leaving his trance and going back into your skull.
“ohhh fuck!”
he lets one of his thumbs trail over to your clit, rubbing hard and fast.
“that’s it, that’s it baby. please, please give it to me. give it to me, give it to me,” he growled out through clenched teeth.
just that quickly, the coil snapped and you came all over his dick with a loud moan. the intensity of your orgasm spurred his and he came right behind you, filling you up. when you were tired of holding yourself up, he pulled you down to lay on his chest, rubbing your back as your breaths slowly calmed down in harmony.
it was just like that how you both fell asleep.
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choso looks like a guy that would fall asleep with your titty in his mouth.
i’m just imagining his strong arms wrapped around you as he holds you tight, his fingers twitching from time to time in his sleep; digging deeper into your shirt that’s pushed up to the collar, successfully exposing your front.
his breathing is calm and his hair is messy. he’s warm because of the non-existent distance between you, because of the way your limbs entangle together, how you hold onto him as well.
and his lips, god… they are soft and plush as they remain wrapped around your nipple. occassionally, they’ll suckle on the sensitive nub a bit, tug it further into his mouth, lick it with a lazy and gentle flick of tongue, almost toying with it even though you’re pretty sure he doesn’t do it on purpose.
trying to not pay any mind to the heat that’s steadily building up below your waist, you stroke his hair and the side of his face as he sleeps; so peacefully that he could come across as an angel despite the fact that his actions are rather sinful.
at some point, a small droplet of drool dribbles down his chin from how relaxed he becomes. he wakes because of it, ever so slightly startled by the sensation it leaves behind, long eyelashes fluttering and revealing very, very tired eyes.
before you can even say anything or wipe away the thin, glimmering line the spit has left behind on his skin, he’s already back to burrowing his entire face into your chest with a content little sigh; making sure to push you even closer with the help of a broad palm pressing against the middle of your back.
this time he does do it on purpose, though.
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you are shaped like something designed to make me cum
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i dont think we make hawks weird enough. he grew up neglected, emotionally and physically abused-- and then was TAKEN INTO A GOVERNMENT ORGANIZATION TO BE TRAINED TO BE A SUPERHERO??? yeah hes a playboy or a flirt but theres something deeply wrong inside him he didnt even GO TO SCHOOL
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yuki 🫶🏻
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update from the jjk fanartist from gaza who lost one of her eyes. “ex-artist” is just……. god. fuck israel fuck america fuck it all to hell
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BITE INHIBITION ┊ CHOSO
tags: GN reader, no curse au, human reader, vampire choso, bites (aphrodisiac effects), drinking of blood, creatures and monsters aren’t widely known, sexual tension, kissing, ambiguous relationship
wc: 1.3K
Above, you note that pinpricks of light are beginning to show behind rust-edged clouds as the sky darkens.
You inhale.
The hug of old houses act as sentries to the alleyway. A narrow space covered by a canopy of vivid neon signs, washing the darkened surroundings in a red-yellow glow. It’s crowded. There’s nothing unnatural about the scene in front of you, just everyday people gathered for drinks to wind down after work, and yet knowing what—and who—could be hiding amongst them has you on high alert.
You exhale. With resolve you begin to weave through the throngs of tipsy salarymen. They slur apologies and obscenities and stumble at your intrusion. Your eyes scan their flushed, slack faces, unsure what it is you expect to find there. Something fearsome and monstrous and unfamiliar.
“In here”.
Ice coils around your wrist. You yelp as you’re tugged aside and pulled through a pair of curtains hung across a dim-lit doorway. Immediately, as if stepping into an entirely different world, the noise lowers into a pleasant din. You land against a solid surface and start to squirm.
“Be calm. It’s me. Are you alright?”
Hushed and gentle, Choso’s breath puffs right against your ear. A plush lower lip brushes the delicate shell. You shiver, and in realising he is holding you to his chest, your heartbeat ricochets—blood rushes to the surface of your skin, heat slipping in the cracks between capillaries, and when his fingers dig deeper into your hip you know he can sense it.
“Yeah—I’m alright. Nobody followed me,” you reply, making no effort to extract yourself from him. “Give me some warning next time. Fucking hell”.
He kisses your temple in lieu of an apology.
Choso is deathly cold. You can feel it under his simple, loose clothing. Today he’s wearing a t-shirt with a low collar and dark jeans, fitted around his thighs and his ankles, paired with laced up heavy duty boots. Unfairly handsome. You know well enough that the absence of warmth has nothing to do with his lack of layers. And despite that absence, you burrow closer as though he were a hearth.
Choso tenses beneath your casual affection, hands intermittently flexing before he ultimately decides to keep you close while guiding you deeper into the building. This was not your usual meeting place. From what you can discern it is just another izakaya—or at the very least, it’s masquerading as one. The waitstaff doesn't so much as bat an eyelid at Choso as he whisks you through the main seating area to the few private rooms in the back.
“Are you sure it’s safe to do it here?”
There’s little detail about the small space but it is cosy. You’re pliant as you allow him to usher you in and recline you into the plush couch cushions. “Yes. We won’t be disturbed,” he says, tone needlessly quiet.
The air around you feels unusually charged today. Trepidation prickled at your nape. You observe while he perches beside you with a darting-rabbit expression and arch your brow. Loose strands of dark hair slip forward to frame a pale face. Paler than usual, a shard of moonlight. The black markings that extend over the bridge of his nose have begun to bleed outside the lines and his irises are ivory-red, thin bands around dilated pupils.
“Choso…” you murmur with realisation. You reach to touch him and he flinches, shaking under the effort of his restraint. Your fingers snaked into his hair, a tangle of silky, black strands. The long spill of it slips through your knuckles and back over his shoulders. “Why didn’t you call me sooner?”
“There wasn’t any need,” Choso’s eyelids shutter, feline how he turns into the tender caress. “I have endured worse than this,” he replies.
“That hardly matters. You shouldn’t starve yourself. You’re shaking with it—”
Any further admonishment you might’ve had is immediately cloven to the back of your teeth as his nose bumps the heel of your hand. His lips part against your wrist and he inhales deeply. He groans. A crease forms in his brow, pinched in helpless desire.
“Not because I’m starving. Because of you,” he says. “I promised to pace myself with you but I needed…” there’s a sort of mindless drawl to his words. Lost in your scent, and in the healthy beat of your pulse. “Everything else tastes so dull in comparison”.
Arousal lances through you at the first sweep of his tongue. You press your thighs tight and he shudders, a soft whine pulled from his throat. “Choso,” you whisper.
“I’m sorry,” and you hear the true meaning behind it. It’s preemptive. It’s a warning.
Choso gives a chaste kiss to your wrist. Then his fangs are splitting open the skin there like soft fruit. His frame shuddered as he drew a deep gulp. The pain is fleeting, a sharp pierce that dwindles into muted pleasure. You slump as his larger body cages you against the cushions to suck and bite and take his fill of you.
Around you, the room turns rosy, and then shadowed, and then dark. Your shallow breaths come faster and the tendrils of want curling low in your belly are stark. They thaw the ice spreading outward from your chest and keep you in a state of oscillating bliss. Choso hums, then huffs through his nose as a thin stream of blood leaks to the crook of your elbow. Tendon and sinew, you lazily watch him unlatch from the fount of your wrist to chase it with his tongue, laving a wet stripe up your forearm.
The markings on his face have receded. His lashes flutter, framing elderberry eyes. His lips are rouge, rough—rivulets have seeped into the cracks between his teeth and stained his gums red. It should scare you. Had it been anyone else it might’ve; yet you find him beautiful like this.
Though sensation is returning, and subsequently to your throbbing wound, the discomfort comes second to your need to have him closer. You cup the back of his head, too weak to apply any meaningful pressure, but that alone is enough for him to understand. Choso dips forward. He kisses you, wet and sticky with congealed blood. He sips at your mouth, firmly, but petal-soft as not to draw more blood.
You arch into him, trying desperately to display your enthusiasm while having none of the energy for it. Choso hums and lavishes you with a leisurely pace, licking past the seam of your lax lips before drawing back. At your plaintive whine he smiles, trailing fingertips over your chin.
You sigh as his thumb swipes the blood that is no doubt smeared across your skin, “Did you make a mess?”
“I made a mess,” he echoes fondly. Then his focus drifts to the closed door. “You should eat too”.
You follow his line of sight, remembering that there are people behind it, sharing meals of their own, none the wiser. Your head lolls against your shoulder, conceding. “Your turn to feed me,” you tell him.
His smile widens a fraction. Blood or no, the gleaming pride and self-satisfaction on his face makes Choso look eighteen and thirty six all at once while being close to neither.
“I’d love to”.
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never seen a character win so many people over in a show the way choso did. literally within two minutes everybody loved him slskskdkdkd
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Im going crazy 🧍🏻♀️ like am I going to be single for the rest of my life 😭😭
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finished my last day at this wretched company!!!!
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🔞 (MDNI) Dating a freak Choso
He just... doesn't do normal things. He does strange and unconventional shit, but it's wonderful to observe him in his habitat; because Choso is very much in his little Choso habitat.
You ask for a kiss, so he leans in and you think he's gonna press his lips against yours — but no, he bites down on your bottom lip and leaves a teeth mark. He grabs your jaw and gives you an open-mouthed, erotic kiss but pretends it's wholesome, not horny. When he thinks you look really cute, he doesn't just simply compliment you — no, he licks your cheek like a puppy. If you're not paying attention to him, he wiggles his tongue into your ear. If you say your hands are cold, he grabs them and stuffs them down his pants to get warmth.
When you beg for him to put it in, he slaps his heavy cock on your clit instead. If you scream his name, he grunts and thrusts into you harder and says "Keep screaming my name, it's getting me close." in a husky voice. When he rolls off you in an exhausted sweat after cumming, he pants for a while before saying "Shit, baby, that pussy knocked me out." and 5 minutes after sex he's playing video games while you hardcore fall asleep. Dick from Choso always puts you to sleep fast, forget about round two — you're sleeping (lol) and he'll be holding you with one arm, muscles subtly twitching as he plays on his gameboy.
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natsuo sits with you in the bathroom while you bathe pretty much from the very beginning of your relationship. he's a bit clingy, even so early on, but he makes no attempt to convince you otherwise. though a bit awkward at first, the routine soon becomes normal and easy: he perches on the closed lid of the toilet and chatters away about his day, or asks you about yours, as you wash away any lingering traces of the day from your skin. but something you always find a bit strange is that he never takes you up on the offer to join you, and finally (years into establishing this easy habit) you reach out with a wet hand and clutch at the sleeve of his shirt, firmly insisting this time that he get in.
he looks away, grimacing a little, a flush crawling up his throat. "oh, no," he says, shaking his head. "i'll get in once you're done, that's alright!"
you frown.
"nat," you say to him, your fingers still twisted into his shirtsleeve, clutching him tightly as though the strength of your grip might sway him. "please get in."
your insistence, though quiet, seems to make him falter. his cheeks flush even more and he hangs his head.
"...cold."
you cock your head to the side, having lost half of his sentence to the way he mumbled it. "hm?"
he peeks up at you, his lashes fluttering when he meets your gaze. his lips are pursed in the sweetest little pout, slight but still there. "i'll make the bathwater cold."
you blink for a moment as you process his words.
"you're worried... about the bathwater?"
he looks away again in embarrassment. "yeah."
he reaches up and takes the hand you have gripping his sleeve in his own, his touch cool against your bath-warmed skin. he twines your fingers together, watching raptly at the way his own hand seems to just fit with yours.
"i don't have a very strong quirk, you know that," he mumbles, his voice almost a bit shy. "but when i'm with you, it just... i can't help it. it slips out."
you already know this about natsuo. already had a conversation about it early in your relationship. he tried to explain the physiological side of things to you in terms you didn't really understand, but sensing your confusion, he then put it simply: you make my heart beat really fast, and it makes my temperature drop.
now you're used to his cold fingertips tracing along your body. used to how his tongue is always cold and slick. used to how you can sometimes see the faintest cloud of his breath on his exhales when he's panting over you in bed, or find delicate swirls of frost marks on the headboard where he was gripping it.
no. more than used to it. you like it.
"natsuo,"—you hold his hand a bit tighter, squeezing his fingers with your own—"i don't care about the bathwater."
his eyes snap up from watching where your fingers are tangled together, meeting your gaze. his cheeks are still pink, but his eyes are hopeful.
you guide his hand up to your cheek. his palm is cool against the heat you feel burning underneath your skin.
"please. get in with me?" you ask him again.
and this time he doesn't deny you—not least of all because he knows that when you've got your heart set on something you won't give up.
but he's used to that part of you, too.
(and he likes it.)
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