❤︎ ˖  ݁ . 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑒

JASON TODD does not have a soft spot for you.

if anyone asked, that’s what he’d say. flat. absolute.

because he doesn’t.

doesn’t matter that he lets you get away with things that would have anyone else eating pavement. doesn’t matter that when you touch or poke or kiss or bite him, he does nothing to stop you—and when you do stop, there’s something almost like… disappointment.

he most definitely doesn’t go out of his way for you, either. doesn’t swing by that café you like just to bring you your favourite beverage. sure as hell doesn’t automatically search for your face when he enters a room full of people…

no. jason todd does not have a soft spot for you.

(he has a weak spot for you. a vulnerable spot. an achilles heel lodged just behind his sternum, nestled between his lungs—right where a bullet would do the most damage. but never a soft spot.)

head empty, only thinking about how when you go to kiss him, you cup his cheeks in your hands and gently squish, smooshing his lips out slightly. he’s already smiling in excitement. you lean in, offering him a little “mwah,” dramatically, but somehow, it always works. his eyes practically form little hearts, not a trace of a thought swirling in them, and his body relaxes: his shoulders droop and his brows soften, and you know he’s completely under your spell when he puckers his lips out for just oooooone more kiss.

it happens a lot more than you both realize; before work, after work, when he’s cleaning up from dinner, when you sneak up behind him while he’s doing paperwork, constantly, are those squishy cheeks in your hands and the invisible tail behind him wagging eagerly.

truly in the palm of your hand.

—————-

bnha: denki, kirishima, midoriya

hq: hinata, tanaka, nishinoya, sugawara, yamaguchi, kuroo, yaku, oikawa, bokuto, akaashi, tendou, ushijima, atsumu, osamu, aran, suna, sakusa, terushima, meian

jjk: gojo, geto, ino, yuuji, higuruma, choso

+ ur faves 🫶🏻

Suna Rintarou has ignored you for seven hours, twenty-three minutes, and forty-five seconds. Not that you’re counting. He hadn’t looked at you when you waved good morning. Didn’t reply when you texted him during lunch. And now, during practice, he’s pretending you don’t exist—unless it’s to rotate away the second you step near him. Which is why you’ve had it.

You march across the gym floor with fire in your veins, stopping right in front of him during a water break. The rest of the team goes quiet, curious eyes flicking between you and the tall, unbothered middle blocker who’s carefully unwrapping sports tape like it's the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Rin, what the hell is your problem?”

Suna doesn’t even look at you. “I don’t have a problem.”

“Bullshit. You’ve been ignoring me all day.”

He scoffs. “Why don’t you just go hang out with your boyfriend?”

You blink. “I’m sorry— my what now?”

Now he looks at you. Flat expression. Bored tone. “The guy you hugged this morning.”

You stare at him. Then you laugh—one short, incredulous breath. “You mean my little cousin?” 

Suna freezes. A beat. Another beat. A visible oh, shit creeps across his face as the team collectively chokes behind you.

“Oh,” he mutters. “Well. He was… tall.”

You slap his arm. “He’s, like, an inch taller than me. And he was just thanking me for lunch money.”

“Well, it didn’t look innocent,” he grumbles, ears now bright pink.

“Are you serious right now?! You’ve been sulking all day over my cousin?”

He shrugs and drops his gaze. “Didn’t know he was your cousin.”

You narrow your eyes. “And what if he wasn’t?”

Silence. The team holds its breath.

Suna exhales, then mutters, “Then I wouldn’t like it.”

Your heart stutters.

His eyes meet yours again—and this time, he really looks at you. His voice is no longer bored. It’s quiet. Honest. “Seeing you with someone else, I mean.”

You tilt your head, a smile curling on your lips—sharp and smug. "Then do something about it.”

Behind you, Atsumu lets out a low, delighted cackle. “Ohhh, shiiit—she got you.”

You don’t wait for a response. Just turn on your heel, walking out of the gym with your head held high. But not before glancing back once—

And catching Suna frozen in place, face red, as the entire team starts swarming him with grins, whistles, and way too much noise. You smile to yourself.

Let him squirm.

For today’s main course, I present Satoru’s back

Bon appetit

so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

enjoy your valentine 💝

THIS PICTURE OF INUMKAIBSLBSOMONE KILL ME 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

So there’s this huge dudebro in my class, who, yesterday, sat next to me. And I’m sitting there sweating because like… I’m wearing my shirt with the lesbian flag on it, and he’s the most popular jock in school, and always has this look on his face that say ‘I can and will kill you’. He looks me up and down, stares at me for a minute and then goes, “So. Girls in skirts and long socks, am I right?”

To which I nodded solemnly, both out of agreement, surprise and also a healthy amount of awkward fear. He nodded and went, “You get it.”

I said, “Yep.” He fistbumped me, and on went our lives.

You slide into your regular booth later than usual - a sweating bottle of your tried and true choice saving your spot as you catch the tail end of some heated debate between Katsuki and your best friend.

“Okay, but he’s really nice Bakugou—“

“Nice? Y’need therapy.”

He holds an arm out for you to settle in under, turning his head to kiss your temple in greeting.

“Okay so maybe he’s not nice all the time, but no one is nice all the time.”

You can feel the eye roll from your boyfriend without having to see it. “Is he fuckin’ twelve? There a reason he can’t control ‘imself when he’s grumpy?”

She sticks her tongue out at Katsuki, and you turn to press your smile into his shoulder. It’s endearing, the way he’s fit himself into the lives of your friends. The way he genuinely cares, in his own harsh way - the way he wants your friends to be treated well. He’s a girls’ girl through and through, even if you’d never say it to him. They have this argument every week.

Your friend picks at the label on her bottle, pouting.

“Okay, but isn’t it enough that I love him?”

Katsuki throws his head back and cackles. It’s mean, but the three of you know that he means well.

“That ain’t love.”

She huffs at that, setting her bottle down to cross her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes at Katsuki. “You don’t know that.”

You feel him eyeing you then, and you tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. He’s warm - the smile is in his eyes as yours pulls at the corners of your lips. He turns his head to take another swig from his drink.

“I know enough,” he says finally, arm around you tightening just a bit.

Your friend gags, and it makes you laugh. Katsuki is stubborn and crass, but he’s right about this.