" 'Hey,' Jason calls, and Tim turns around with a start. Looks surprised he’s been addressed at all. And Jason says, 'You tell ‘im, Babybird. He feels guilty he doesn’t love you.' " Or, the kids compete to see who should give Bruce bad news. But Jason doesn't take Tim and Bruce's fractured relationship into account.

A Yamamoto/Gokudera arc in which Yamamoto decides Gokudera could really use someone to take care of him since he doesn't seem to attend to that at all himself.

Omegas are inviting. Warm. The heart of pack life. Tsuna never believed he'd be any of those things. (Omega Tsuna, warm and wonderful but entirely unaware of it, unwittingly draws others to him and inspires unwavering loyalty.) No Mafia. Tsuna's "Family" is just his patchwork pack of similarly damaged children. Lots of platonic pack feels and bonding. Endgame Tsuna/Hibari.

Hawks takes baby steps backwards, getting closer and closer to the door, as everyone continues to get loud and look at eachother for answers. Well, almost everybody; Dabi is watching him limp away with an unimpressed expression. “Those are torture wounds,” Shigaraki points out, crossing his arms and leveling Hawks with a dead-eyed stare. “How do you even know what torture wounds look like?” Hawks throws back as he continues to plan his escape. Shigaraki looks at him with raised eyebrows until Hawks looks away again, feeling like an idiot. These people are villains, he knows that (but its so easy to forget-). “Right, fuck.” Hawks flicks him a two fingered salute before turning tail like the coward he feels like and making for the door. He doesn't get more than four feet before Dabi grabs him by one of his wings and yanks him back.

“Bakugou?” Bakugou shuffled on his feet, hovering over Kirishima and looking at the ground with stormy eyes. He glanced up to glare at Kirishima, a silent dare to call him out on his odd behavior no doubt. Kirishima forced himself not to tense. Whatever Bakugou wanted, he was about to show him and Kirishima had to get this right. Bakugou was all about showing and not telling. Kirishima nearly bit his tongue to keep in a squawk of surprise when Bakugou suddenly dropped to his knees next to him, shuffling forward until he could press his forehead to his thigh and hide his face against Kirishima's leg. Kirishima opened his mouth, questions on the tip of his tongue, and he barely managed to catch them before they could be given voice. Bakugou was trembling minutely, his entire frame so tense his muscles were twitching under Kirishima's gaze. “Just. Don't say anything,” Bakugou muttered, hands clenching in his lap tightly. “Please,” he whispered, a short choked sound.