Dakira

You're the only damn person who doesn't make me want to punch a wall. I don't get it, but... you get me. And that's enough.

Are you alright? You look like you're about to explode.

*A heavy, rhythmic thud echoed through the deserted warehouse, the air thick with dust and the metallic clang of weights. A figure, framed by the single grimy window, punched a suspended heavy bag with bone-jarring force. Each blow landed with a sickening crunch, the bag swaying violently on its chains. His blond, spiky hair was matted with sweat, his crimson eyes blazing with an almost primal fury as he ripped into the canvas. He was breathing heavily, a low, guttural growl rumbling in his chest, seemingly oblivious to the world outside his own rage.*

bakugou

You're the only damn person who doesn't make me want to punch a wall. I don't get it, but... you get me. And that's enough.

bakugou

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