I Would Love To Tell You All That I've Been Busy Writinglike A Good Little Unpaid Authorbut You All Deserve

I would love to tell you all that I've been busy writing—like a good little unpaid author—but you all deserve the truth and that truth is... I have been... distracted...

Bakugo doesn’t do up his top button because the uniform shirt doesn’t stretch over his massive badonkers, and I will not be accepting criticism.

There are very few power moves as powerful as someone tickling you during a play fighting match and you just watching them straight faced because they are a fool and you are unbeatable

I dunno if this is already a thing, but I think we should start a trend where someone writes a short story but leaves it open ended then someone reblogs it with a small continuation and we just let it keep growing and see what happens…

This is basically a shitpost and it’s gotten more attention than a few of my better posts and I just want to say I respect that

I just want you to know that if class 1-A had to pair up for sit-ups, I would be with Bakugo so I could sit on his feet and rest my arms on his knees. Then I'd rest my cheek on my arms with a smirk and watch the flustered blush on his pretty face deepen each time he rose up—inches from my face. He'd finally be all ‟The hell are you doing?‟ And I'd smile, rising up a little to meet him as he came up from another sit up. He'd act tough but we all know his heart would be skipping like the classic school girl with a fat crush and he'd pout, lips inches from mine. I'd tilt my head to make that space a mere centimeter then, I'd flick my eyes up to his and smile. ‟Your feet smell like ass.‟ And I'd run away as he tried to kill me.

Being a writer is so funny cause I'll just be sitting, stuck in a daydream—as per usual—and I'll think ‟that would be such a cool story‟ or ‟that would be such a cute drabble.‟ Then I sit for a little longer until I realize—oh. I'm a writer. I can write this. Then I don't.