#hawk mail

[melancholymegumi]

Let’s talk about Mean daddy endeavor making you show hawks your pull up/diaper station after you tried to be a big girl and talk back to them… maybe he even lets hawks change you right there

yeah let's talk. (This was super rushed and shitty, I'm sorry)

yes, mean daddy!enji with his best friend (not uncle yet) keigo :(( . Enji himself is already mean, strict and spanks you or puts you in diapers for no reason sometimes! You don't even need diapers , you're a big girl. You don't wet yourself anymore!

But does he care? no. In his eyes , you're just a little girl whose a brat and doesn't know any better, of course he had to put you in your place. Even worse when one of his co-worker , Hawks came over. You've seen him once or twice before, but only on TV or him talking to your daddy at the door. He never walked in before. Well, until today.

You weren't in a mood for a guest today. Especially not because he had just taken away your toys and spanked you because you already talked back to him earlier. When you saw that guest, you already knew that you were gonna despise him for the time being.

“hm? Is this the girl you talked about Endeavour? I didn't know you were—”

“shut up.”

“ignore her. she's being a brat.”

“I'm not a brat!”

“yes, you fucking are. Talk back again and we're putting you in pullups.” That threat was more than enough to shut you up, but did you? No. Of course you fucking didn't. The whole time he was there, you just ignored him. Well, until he started talking to your daddy about you.

“Is she that much of a brat? I don't think I've seen a woman that bratty before.” this was so stupid. They talk like you weren't even there.

“no, surprisingly she's good most of the time.”

“I'm always good, you're just mean!” and that was it. “did I give you permission to talk? I've had enough of these, come on.” before you could even respond, he was already pulling you by your arm, soon opting to carry you instead. “I fucking told you– be good , don't talk back but you still chose to be a fucking brat didn't you? You just had to be a brat.” well, have fun getting humiliated.

[hawkpartys]

thank you for your contributions of bug knowledge and open minded-ness that the average population has not encountered and is therefore hostile to. you’re our strongest soldier

its okay every time there's a dipshit on my bug posts i donate 5$ to the Genetically Engineer A Species Of Parasitoid Wasp That Targets Annoying People Foundation

[uhzuku]

How about Keigo + "You're not that scary" <3

kinda feral keigo it is <33

the golden eyes glowing from the darkness make your heart jump in your chest, said little organ starting to race as they narrow in the shadows. a clicked series of growls reach your ears as the eyes grow closer, and you fall back on your ass as he finally leaves the shadows. the golden eyes belong to what you want to call a man but just can’t — mostly because of the massive red wings attached to his back that cast shadows across the ground that were larger than you as well as the black markings across his eyes that you just instinctively know couldn’t be wiped away with a makeup wipe. his nails are long and sharp, talons really, and fangs are revealed when he opens his mouth to hiss at you. he wears nothing, covered in scars with his cock free to be seen by anyone who looked, though you were more invested in locking eyes with him.

you freeze for a moment, a rabbit nearly in a hawk’s clutches, before pushing yourself up and sprinting off. you can hear him crashing behind you before silence follows, and you know instinctively he’s taken flight. bushes slap across your face and leave stinging pain behind, but you ignore it in favor of focusing on fleeing the predator behind you. your heart beats wildly in your chest, and a heat coils in your belly in anticipation.

he’s going to fuck you when he catches you — he’s going to fucking breed you. and you can’t wait.

warm, strong hands close around your shoulders and you’re pushed to the ground, a shrill scream falling from your lips as you tumble to the forest floor. he’s thrown himself around you so he takes the brunt of the impact, and you catch your breath while laying on his chest; you can hear his own heart racing, and his skin is warm.

“scared, sweetheart?” he mutters underneath you, and you detect a slight bitterness in his voice.

you giggle, “you’re not that scary,” and lace your fingers in his. you can almost hear him pouting.

“then why’d you scream?” he asks, sounding a little put off, and you smike against his chest before pushing yourself up and straddlig him.

“excitement,” you whisper, leaning down and biting his shoulder playfully. he lets out a shout of excitement and flips you, a wicked grin on his face as his wings flap behind him, his own excitement clear.

“let’s give you exactly what you were excited for, hmm?”

[divorcedwife]

i only like default rpg main characters if they're women, if they're men i hate them on principle i'm sorry

[felixisfruity]

sorry i deleted the confession of who i really am, hawk tuah i mean have to keep my identity a secret

from hawk tuah slimecicle (hawk tuah!!)

thats actually really funny but i have the reblog on my blog so it’s still up

[magebastard]

love/hate being so invested in my da canon. this shit is so dumb I have to cry

[fr3g-fr0g-0racl3]

SOMEONE GIVE ME FAN MAIL ADDRESSES I SWEAR I NEED TO WRITE OR I WILL GO INSANE. ALL THE TAGS WILL BE PEOPLE I KNOW OF AND IF THEY’RE PROBLEMATIC JUST DON’T GIVE ME A FAN MAIL ADDRESS

[lexithwrites]

omg how did i not know you like my hero!! what are your favorite ships? do you have any rarepairs you enjoy?

I do! my favourite ships are bakudeku (my loves), togachako, kamijiro, momojiro, kirimina, kiribaku, tododeku, todomomo aaaaaand i do like a lil dabihawks too hehe i love the mha fandom because absolutely nothing is canon lmao (maybe kamijiro) and idk if its a rarepair but i really love kirideku and todobaku

[officialhawks]

fuck you

Oh? Okay then! Alright have a good day!

[inkykeiji]

helloo :)

can i get thirst + 1950s kei hehe

prompt: thirst series: 1950s au warnings: historically inaccurate 1950s au, reader is female, ur in keigo’s lap for pretty much this entire piece, a very spit-slicked kiss words: 1.3k

absolutely!!! thank you so much for requesting him hehe c:

“It’s another hot-hot-hot one out there, folks! Twenty-eight degrees, with temps climbing into the mid-thirties, and a humidex of thirty-six,” the voice on the radio cackles, stuffed with static. “Be sure to keep those bodies cool and those throats hydrated!” 

Gosh, when is this heat wave gonna end? you’re murmuring to yourself as you push past the swinging screen door, a glass pitcher of freshly made ice cold lemonade in your hands, droplets of condensation already beginning to stream down the curved sides. 

“Hopefully this can help quench your thirst,” you set the pitcher down on the rickety wooden table next to Keigo, holding a glass steady as you pour, sure to get a few ice cubes and a slice of lemon, just how he likes it. 

“Thank you, angel,” he takes the glass from your hands, grateful, tongue darting out to lick at his bottom lip. 

“So?” you rock a little on the balls of your feet in anticipation, keen eyes watching his Adams apple bob as he swallows a mouthful. “How is it?” 

“Mm,” he hums as his hands encircle your waist, pulling you down into his lap, the plastic of his lawnchair squeaking beneath your combined weight. “Perfect, as always.”

He noses along the curve of your neck, inhaling slowly as he plants sloppy, open-mouthed kisses across your damp flesh. The light summer breeze rustles the leaves of the old oak tree on your front lawn, twining through the full branches, caressing your saliva-slicked skin and leaving a pleasant, cooling sensation in its wake. Sighing, your body relaxes against Keigo’s as your head tips back, exposing more of your neck to him.

“That nice?” he asks, lips brushing the shell of your ear, voice smooth and thick like caramel. 

“Yeah,” you breathe, eyes still closed. “Feels good.” 

You feel him lean away for a moment, taking the heat of his mouth with him, ears pricking as teeth clink against glass, as ice clinks against teeth. Then he’s back, an ice cube cupped in his tongue, frosty and frigid as it drags across your feverish skin. 

The unexpected cold makes you jump, and Keigo chuckles—a deep, velvety sound that vibrates against your flesh—as he licks up the notches of your neck, ice gliding with his tongue, slow and purposeful.

Chills erupt across your body, back arching just a little and pressing further into his touch, powerless to stop the soft mewl that spills from your lips. 

He takes his time with it, unhurried in his ministrations, thorough in his work, each caress of his tongue meticulously thought out, sure to cover every inch of exposed skin he can easily reach—the nape of your neck and the blades of your shoulders and the column of your throat—until the cube has fully melted, leaving a mess of watery saliva painted across your skin in large, wide strokes.

The icy tip traces your jugular vein one last time for good measure, up, up, up, traveling along the edge of your jaw to the lobe of your ear, and shivers skitter up your spine, sending a wave rippling through your flesh. 

“All done,” he purrs in your ear, breath still chilled from the ice. 

And you just can’t help yourself, suddenly parched for him, twisting in his grasp and capturing his lips. Hands splayed wide on either of his cheeks, you tug him closer, fingertips hooking behind the hinges of his jaw, nails sinking into his skin, leaving behind shallow crescents. 

He tastes sticky-sweet, a syrupy film of vanilla cola still clinging to his tongue and lacing his spit, complemented by the slight sour tang of the lemonade. Your tongue curls around his own, sucks it into your mouth and scrapes your teeth across the surface, desperate to swallow down whatever you can of him, to steal just a stringy piece of him and hold him in your tummy, close to your heart. 

A keepsake, while he’s away. 

Finally, you part, with glimmering lips and spit-slicked chins, chests heaving together with ragged little breaths.

“Wow,” Keigo chuckles, the word wispy, eyes shining bright like two starbursts of topaz. “What was that for?”

“I, um,” you turn away from him, suddenly shy, settling back against his body and tucking your face into your shoulder. “I just—I really don’t want you to go tomorrow,” you admit softly, a slight pout in your voice. “I know it isn’t fair, but...” 

But I want you all to myself. But I miss you like crazy when you’re gone. But it’s true. 

“I understand, baby,” he leans his cheek against yours, short stubble scratching your sensitive skin, and squeezes you to his chest, tight and secure. “You know, you could always come with me...”

“Keigo, please, don’t start—”

“I’m serious—”

“So am I,” you pull back to look at him, shifting a little in his lap. 

Holding his stare, your eyes search his, shimmering topaz ever-changing in the late afternoon sun, flickering with the sunbeams streaming through the fluttering leaves, casting shadows and shapes on his face. He gazes back just as steadily, nothing but sincerity brimming in his eyes, and your lips tug down. 

Fingers brush back the golden curls saturated in sweat sticking to his forehead, carding through the unruly strands in a rhythmic motion, eyes following their movement.

He catches your wrist, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to your palm. 

Keigo’s been attempting to persuade you to quit your job for a while now, to abandon the life you worked so hard to build, painstakingly from the ground up and with your own two hands, to throw caution to the wind and come jet-setting with him around the world despite the fact that you know next to nothing about his work—nothing about his elusive and mysterious job that requires freshly pressed and finely tailored tuxedos, that pays six figures, that allows him to have a two-storey house and a 1957 cherry red Chevy Bel Air and a collection of glittering Rolex watches—despite the fact that, technically, you aren’t allowed to. 

“You know I’d love to, but my job at the diner—”

“Isn’t necessary anymore.”

“Is important to me,” you continue, voice firm with conviction. 

You know he doesn’t exactly get it, why you’d want to keep working a broke-down job at a shitty little mom & pop malt shop when he can now provide for all of your needs, and more, but this job holds a certain type of sentimentality.

Because it’s something that’s yours, something you earned all on your own, accomplished through your own volition and hard work, something that enabled you to claw your way to freedom.

You love the grease, the way the scent of fresh-cut fries and sizzling cheeseburgers twines through your hair and carries home with you. 

You love the sticky milkshakes and melty sundaes and ostentatious banana splits, the way they always seem to perpetually stain the tips of your fingers, tinging everything with sugar. 

You love the speckled white tables and the glittery red booths and the checkerboard floor, the way your regular customers’ eyes light up when they spot you.

You love it all, so dearly. 

“I can’t just leave.” Not now, not yet, not until you’re ready to let go. 

He doesn’t exactly get it, but he doesn’t need to. 

It being important to you is already enough reason for him.

He glances up at you through thick gold lashes, thumb pausing in its quest to pick off a chip of peeling white paint from the table, holding your eyes for a moment before giving a resigned nod, shoulders slumping ever-so-slightly in another defeat. 

“Ah well,” he sighs with a shrug, pulling you back to his chest and cradling you in his arms, chin resting on the crown of your head. “It was worth a shot. One of these days you’ll finally say yes to me, and I’ll be the happiest man on earth.”

“Yeah,” you murmur softly, arms curling around his own and hugging them to your torso. “Maybe one day.”

It isn’t the first time he’s suggested it. It won’t be the last; not until you finally say yes.

But you think you’re alright with that. 

[shiresome]

have you drawn any mha characters? 👉👈

Yesss I have! I drewww Present Mic and that little blue-headed girl for my little sister a couple years back :) I actually doodle a lot of the characters for her, but I never post them. I'm not really familiar with the lore or anything. I just know she likes them

[courageisneverforgotten]

surprise mail from Maya Hawke 👀

new album coming in May!!

[mybelovedfictionalhusband]

Just got my copy of @thecodywanzine !!!! Absolutely STUNNING and the quality is IMPECCABLE!!! Can’t wait to read it later!!! Alas my dad is a classic Star Wars fan so I feel weird reading it in front of him for some reason 🫣 BUT I LOVE WHAT I SAW SO FAR!!!!!! And I WILL be hanging the prints up at my work desk>:3

[lickmystamp]

US postage stamp, 1995 "American Kestrel" Scott #2477 Issued: May 10, 1995 - Aurora, CO Quantity: 300,000,000 Designer: Michael Matherly Printed By: Bureau of Engraving and Printing (Lithographed) With its slate blue and rust plumage, the kestrel makes a colorful and visually unique addition to U.S. postage stamps. A relative of the falcon, this small bird of prey is also known as a "sparrow hawk." Found throughout the United States, it usually makes its home in hollowed out trees or nests deserted by other birds. In 1995, this stamp was reprinted. This reprinted version differed from the original stamp in several ways; the new stamp utilizes a cent sign (¢) and also bears the year date 1995 in the lower left-margin.

[officialhawks]

Found MHA a few weeks ago (still not at the second season where you're introduced), but read a few things here and there on the internet and just wanted to say, that you and Dabi are my favourite characters in the series so far.

I’m one of your favorite!? I’m flattered! It means a lot to me. Dabi is a trouble maker that one, but really….i think if circumstances were different he’d probably be a good friend. But his flames are pretty cool.

Hawks 🪶