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So No One Told You Life Was Gonna Be This Way...

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”Sit your ass down and stop trying to flip them off!” Katsuki hissed as he yanked Shouto back into his seat.

Katsuki suddenly felt extremely grateful and sorry for pulling the same shit to his mother as a fucking seven-year-old. Bless that woman for raising an asshole like Katsuki. This dipshit, on the other hand, was a twenty-year-old headache. The car jerked out of nowhere, and Katsuki smacked his face first into the driver's seat.

Ah, that would be the other twenty-year-old pain in his ass. Katsuki punched the faux leather, ”Deku!”

”Sorry, Kacchan!” The car sharply turned right and Katsuki felt the seatbelt cut and dig into his sides as he went left, loud swears following after like a line of fucklings.

You’re probably wondering, “Katsuki, how did you, a reasonable, intelligent, great lord, get into a situation like this?” to which Katsuki would tell you, “I DON’T FUCKIN’ KNOW???” He sweared the moment he’d signed the lease along with shitheads one and two he’d unknowingly sold his soul before the ink even dried.

(“So, Ground Zero, how’s it like working with other top ten heroes like Deku and Shouto?”

“Like babysitting toddlers with a drinking permit.”)

Every weekend, Katsuki seemed to find himself on the greyer scale of the law despite his best efforts. He’d specifically sit down and tell both of his shitty roommates that they were, under no circumstances, to do anything illegal, and yet, every Saturday, without fail, Katsuki found himself running for his life.

(“What’s the plan for this weekend?”

“We overthrow the government.”

“Can it, Pokéball!”)

They had told him it was a Bath and Body Works run. BATH AND BODY WORKS! Katsuki expected candles and copious amounts of body lotion and god had the audacity to SHIT ON HIM. One moment, Katsuki was smelling hand soap, and the next he was watching Disasters #1 and #2 slash the tires to daddy dearest’s mid-life crisis lambo.

(Katsuki hummed as he checked the candles in his bag. Out of sheer instinct, he nearly swung his arm out to hit whoever ripped his purchases from his hands. Instead, he watched as Shouto threw the colorful bag into a black duffle that Katsuki knew they always used on their ”missions” and ran. Katsuki cursed him out, confused and angry. Seconds later, he heard foot stomping and a car alarm. Izuku shot past him, gunning it in Shouto’s direction, and shouted over his shoulder, “FUCKING RUN, KACCHAN!”

Behind him lights lit up red and blue.)

The next turn knocked over the duffle bag, spilling out a blue midnight citrus candle. Katsuki scowled and flipped it off like it was personally mocking him. Artichoke and Polish Flag better fucking do his laundry and dishes for a month. Minimum. And they owe him a Bath and Body Works gift card. Fuckers.

(“You guys did fuckin’ WHAT?”

“Slashed my dad’s tires,” Shouto said dryly, “keep up, Bakugou.”


Katsuki was losing his goddamn mind living with these shitheads. He’d figure after the time he’d watched Izuku drive the car head-on into a blockade to get away from the cops chasing them he should’ve moved out. Hell, after hearing that the two of them had committed vigilantism during their first year at U.A. he should’ve known this entire rooming situation was a nonstarter. Fuckin’ Deku had thought shattering his bones every other week was a valid strategy, so it should've been obvious that he’d take the most drastic measures to do literally anything. This meant whenever Izuku was behind the wheel it was definitely to try and kill Katsuki through vehicular manslaughter.





Katsuki, moments before being launched into the air, screeched, “ANYTHING BUT FUCKING THAT!!”)

Living with these two was like carrying two towers of fragile plates, focusing on one meant the other was trying to break into a dog shelter to free the animals by climbing ventilation shafts with only dog treats as help. Okay, that was a bad analogy, but granted Katsuki hadn't seen much sleep in a long time.

("Pst, Kacchan," Behind him, he could feel Izuku shaking his shoulder, “Kacchan, are you awake?”

Katsuki tried to ignore him. He really did. After all, he couldn’t be a hero if he was convicted of murder.

“Hey, Kacchan. Are you up? Kacchan? Hello? Ka—“

“WHAT! What!” Katsuki snapped, “I’m up now.”

“Oh. So, I was thinking— you know how in High School Musical Three Sharpay lists off imports from other countries? Well, she also says Maine, but that’s in the US where the movie is set, right? My theory is—“

Katsuki groaned, cutting him off. “Deku, it’s three in the fucking morning.”

From the other side of Katsuki, Shouto popped up. “No, no, let him finish.”)

A second too late, Katsuki watched Izuku toss something into the back seat and just as fast Shouto immediately threw it back out of the window and into the street. “What the fuck was that?!”

Shouto turned to Katsuki, looked him dead in the eyes, and deadpanned, “Fuck the police.”

Katsuki took a deep breath.

And screamed.