HAWKS ANGST!!!! 🫡 Im Ready Captain.

HAWKS ANGST!!!! 🫡 Im ready captain.

just gonna put content warning here; reader dies due to complication during childbirth!

post war, keigo is ready to settle down. he's got this desk job as president of the commission, and he looks forward to coming home to you every night. snuggling up like usual, though there's an absence that makes the bed feel emptier at night. he doesn't have to watch out for feathers or an appendage when he tosses and turns.

it's two years post war and four years into your relationship when he brings up having kids and starting a family. by now, the two of you have had the marriage talk and agreed that marriage wasn't exactly necessary-- but if it happened, it would happen.

but kids?

you weren't sure where the whole family talk was coming from. you knew about the ugly childhood he had, and how he still struggles with blame and responsibility. he wanted to have kids even with all of that trauma?

the topic is dropped after a quick argument that leaves the both of you sick to your stomach and lying back to back with each other to sleep that night. he doesn't bring up kids for a bit after that, but the universe always has ways of fucking with either one of you-- and one day several months down the line, you slam a positive pregnancy test down in front of him while he sits at his desk as he works from home.

and yes, eventually; you fall in love with the idea of having kids with keigo. it's kind of hard not to while you're actively carrying one with him.

and it all goes smoothly, keigo is so soft and doting to you, he makes you appreciate every day as it comes when he lies at night against your side, cooing soft words into the skin of your swollen stomach. the toothy grins he shoots you when he receives a kick back when he's placing feather-like kisses along your bump.

he leans in so eagerly to the whole family thing, the future he had been hoping for since he settled into his position at work, that you're afraid he's preparing a little too much for it.

keigo thought he was prepared for fatherhood.

he was not prepared for the sound of a flat-lining heart monitor in the middle of your daughter's delivery.

and even more now, several years later; on the anniversary of your death-- your childs birthday-- it haunts him. he struggles with the fact that he simultaneously lost the most important person in his life while also gaining one on the same day.

he never knows how to spend these days anymore, since his daughter turned 15. she looks too much like you. acts too much like you, he can see it in her eyes and when she makes certain faces at him even though you haven't been around at all to teach her how to make those expressions.

how does she know how to do them so well that it causes his gut to react so violently?

it's her 20th birthday this time. for the past four years she's been visiting your grave by herself. it's tradition-- she visits, spends about ten minutes meditating and dreaming about what you would look like if you were alive today (though she knows what you look like, keigo keeps pictures around the house. he's not that far down in denial anymore) and then she leaves a small joint and a half burned cigarette.

keigo always told her that you never finished cigarettes-- you only smoke when you drank, and could never finish a full one. and even though keigo doesn't like to know that his daughter is smoking, he knows who's leaving the joints. he finds them every year when he visits, hours after his daughter has left and has moved on to whatever plans she had scheduled for the night.

maybe he'll confront her one day about it. he knows he won't, because if you were here-- you'd be sitting on the balcony sharing it with her anyway.

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gege confirming gojo was meant to be a rich househusband is so real to me. he just want to be taken care of. just imagining him cuddling with you after your 9 to 5 job. you insist on working just to ensure the well being of both of you even if he can pay for you for the rest of your life. gege also confirming that he goes to sleep at 4 am and wakes up at 7 am. The both of you definitely work on fixing his sleep schedule and he always sleeps easier with you in his arms. he still wakes up early to make you coffee and breakfast. all he ever asks for in return is to be coddled and kept close to your heart.

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I've had this silly headcanon for a while that Anakin simply saw Padme give birth in his vision and got absolutely dramatic over it. "She will die!" "No Skywalker it always looks this way"

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✨🌙 ART LOG -> @404ama

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One of the Top 10 arts from the Fanart contest by Kadeart

The full submission also contains these pieces:

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You love annoying your boyfriend, Keigo—better known as Pro Hero Hawks, number two in the rankings. One of your favorite ways to get on his nerves—or, as he likes to put it, “tease” him—is when he’s out on patrol. You always wait until his shift’s just about over, then you strike.

You throw on your best wide-eyed, flustered look and squeal like some fangirl with an obsessive crush, loud enough for the whole city block to hear, “Oh my god, is that Pro Hero Hawks?!”

Then you start gushing. Loud. Profanities fly out of your mouth like confetti. Everyone turns to look—eyes wide, jaws slack—and you can already feel the heat of his stare. Keigo’s there in a flash, hand over your mouth, feathers wrapping tight around your waist as he lifts you off the ground.

He mutters through gritted teeth, “You’re insane,” while trying to avoid the incoming swarm of fangirls—blushing, breathless, and bursting into declarations of love.

And just as he’s lifting you higher, you mumble into his glove in your sweetest, sultriest voice, “Won’t you sign my tits, Pro Hero Hawks?”

He scoffs. Classic Keigo. “Yeah, yeah.”

You figured that’d be the end of it, like always—a quick getaway, some grumbling, maybe a feather-flick to the forehead. But not this time.

He’s flying fast. Too fast.

Before you know it, he’s landing hard on some random rooftop, hidden away from the street, pushing you up against a stone wall next to a rusted door that probably leads to nowhere. The air between you turns heavy. His golden eyes are sharp. Hungry.

He peels his gloves off with his teeth, one by one, still staring at you like he’s got something to prove. His hands slide under your thighs, gripping the soft flesh and lifting you like it’s nothing. Then he’s biting at your shirt, bunching it up in his mouth before holding the fabric in his hand—exposing just enough to make your breath hitch.

Then, in that cocky, ego-dripping voice of his, he says:

“Yeah, anything for my fans. I’ll sign ’em alright. Wanna use my mouth or my cum—your choice, angel.”

master list link here.

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silkslvt

8 months ago

I want you to imagine yourself, fifty years from now, sitting with your grandchildren. Imagine them asking you “what did you do during the Gazan Genocide?” What will you say? Will you say “I did nothing?” Will you say “I did what I could?” By donating to this fundraiser, you will be able to say “I saved a man from cancer.” I’m sure many of you have seen the fundraiser for @mohiy-gaza2 . What you might not know is that Mohiy himself is very sick. He told me himself that he recently had an MRI to diagnose a tumor in his pancreas, and now needs surgery to remove his spleen. Dealing with these illnesses is difficult enough for those of us lucky enough to live in peaceful countries; in a warzone Mohiy’s task is nothing short of horrific. I know pancreatic cancer is a difficult disease, but with our help, I believe Mohiy can beat it.

I know there are other fundraisers on your dash. I’m sure your bank accounts are already low from the donations you’ve already made. All I can do is beg you, from the bottom of my heart: help Mohiy and his family. I’ve already donated; please find it in your heart to donate whatever you can. To quote Mohiy himself: