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Not All Heroes Wear Capes (Some Wear All Might-Patterned Boxers)

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Twenty-two percent of all photocopier faults were caused by people sitting on them and photocopying their asses.

 

Don't fucking ask Bakugou Katsuki how he knew. Just accept the fact that the art of ass-copying (as Katsuki had so eloquently dubbed it) was a more common practice than you may had thought.

 

Which was why Katsuki was currently perched on top of UA High Library’s photocopier, half praying he didn't contribute to the lucky twenty-two percent, and half hoping that no one would walk past and find him with his ass smashed up against the scanner like a fucking dumbass.

 

Katsuki swore he didn’t have some kind of weird fetish with photos of his ass, nor did he enjoy shoving random body parts into school equipment. This uncomfortable (and humiliating) situation was a direct result of one too many sodas, a twenty-four hour only-pause-if-your-bladder-is-sending-out-an-urgent-SOS-signal game of Persona 5, and a stupid challenge from his 'supposed' friend Kaminari Denki.

 

The challenge? A photo of Katsuki’s aforementioned ass on public display by Monday morning.

 

Katsuki’s initial reaction: Fucking die, Pikachu!

 

Now, Katsuki did take a minute to think about the consequences. Students would return from their weekend refreshed and energized, eagerly awaiting the fun in store from a double period of Chemistry or a two-hour lecture on Trigonometry, only to be psychologically scarred by scandalous images of Katsuki’s ass. Indecent exposure anyone?

 

Pikachu’s response: What’s the problem, Bakugou? Are you not man enough or something?

 

Here’s a useful tip: If a guy refused to take part in any activity, threaten his masculinity. Even if it was going to be the most humiliating experience of his entire existence, he'll fucking do it, stupidly believing that it would restore his manhood. Trust Katsuki. He was a living proof.

 

So because Katsuki was clearly a dumbass (he liked to think he was a fucking genius, but what he was doing at the moment proved him wrong) and the fact that his masculinity was in question, he angrily agreed to Kaminari’s ridiculous dare—only to see the goddamned Pikachu grinning widely as he threw Katsuki a pair of tight, All Might-patterned boxers.

 

Holy fucking shit.

 

The whir of the machine signaled the printing stage and Katsuki took three deep calming breaths. One more agonizing minute and he was going to yeet himself out of there.

 

"Kacchan?"

 

Holy fucking shit, indeed.

 

The blonde’s head snapped up and his ruby eyes fell upon a guy clutching a tattered comic book to his chest looking, well, surprised. (Who the fuck wouldn't be?) What Katsuki was feeling at this very moment was about a thousand times worse than when he was six and the Old Hag caught him flushing her expensive-as-fuck night cream down the toilet.

 

Because fucking Deku, who was currently standing right in front of Katsuki with his gorgeous emerald eyes widened in horror—staring at the blonde like he had just stolen his limited edition All Might figurine, was The One.

 

Midoriya Izuku (or Deku, as Katsuki would lovingly call the green-haired nerd) was the guy with the gorgeous smile that could make Katsuki forget his own name. The guy who reduced him to a sputtering tsundere with just one glance in his direction. The guy who made him want to exit his game of Mobile Legends, even if he was one hit away from slaying his enemy, just to watch him walk by. The guy who, in Katsuki’s love-struck eyes, made him want to throw down with All Might whilst ending global warming and climbing Mount Fuji, just to make the green-haired nerd happy.

 

Deku was the guy who Katsuki had been absolutely, one hundred percent crazy about since kindergarten, who was now under the misguided impression that the blonde was some kind of sick pervert.

 

Pikachu called it 'a case of insanity even worse than Mineta’s porn collection'. Katsuki called it true love.

 

God, he was such a fucking pussy. Next thing he knew, he’d probably start spouting Shakespeare. Then everyone would know he had officially lost it.

 

One minute had probably gone past and still neither of them had moved. It felt like Katsuki had been caught with his pants down, doing the chicken dance to a Kyary Pamyu Pamyu song. And the sad thing was—the first part of that sentence wasn't even an exaggeration.

 

"Kacchan?" Deku repeated, just as the machine beeped indicating that the printing process was finished.

 

Katsuki took one look at the incriminating A4 photocopy of his butt laying innocently in the output tray and one look at Deku’s still shell-shocked expression.

 

It now came down to the age old battle of human instinct—fight or flight?

 

Would Katsuki stay there, try to explain the situation and incriminate himself even more, or get the fuck out of there as fast as possible, potentially saving himself from further embarrassment (if that was even possible)?

 

It only took a split second.

 

Katsuki snatched up the paper with one hand, grabbed his pants with the other, and bolted from the room so fast he had probably broken a world record.


Katsuki recounted the entire humiliating experience to Kaminari who laughed so hard Katsuki considered dialing emergency services, before remembering that this goddamned Pikachu was the one who got him into this mess in the first place.

 

Time passed: approximately fifteen minutes.

 

Pikachu: still pissing himself laughing.

 

Katsuki: seriously contemplating strangling Pikachu with his shoelace.

 

Had Katsuki mentioned that the guy was a dimwit?

 

"I... can't believe... you... actually did it, Bakugou." Cue another fifteen minutes of eardrum-shattering, annoying-as-fuck bout of laughter. By now, Pikachu sounded more like a cow being run over by a bus.

 

Katsuki just sat there, angrily picking at his lunch and continued to wait it out. Once Kaminari started going, not even an army of chipmunks armed with nuclear weaponry could stop the fucker.

 

Kaminari stopped shaking and sucked in a deep breath. "Okay, man. Let's see it then."

 

Katsuki shot the panting blonde a warning look. (Translation: laugh and I’ll fucking castrate you with a paperclip) Kaminari merely raised a brow and held out a hand. Disgruntled, Katsuki passed over the photocopy of his ass.

 

Kaminari studied the picture for a long moment before snickering, "Not bad, bro! Anyone ever mention you're pretty photogenic?" Can you fucking hear that scratching noise? It's the sound of Katsuki sharpening his paperclip.

 

Katsuki glared.

 

Chuckling, Kaminari slapped his back. "Chill, man. It’s just for laughs, yeah?"

 

"Easy for you to say, Pikachu. You weren't the one caught photocopying their fucking ass," Katsuki darkly muttered.

 

Kaminari frowned for a moment before smirking. "Oh right. Midoriya. No worries, Bakugou. Think of the bright side. He noticed you. And probably knows it was all an awesome dare. I mean, Midoriya’s one of those smart ones, right? He’ll figure it out. All you have to be concerned about is how to win him over. Once you do that, then this whole incident will just be an insignificant speck in the fairytale of your life." The dumbass grinned encouragingly.

 

Shockingly, the electrocuted Pikachu had a point. Minus the whole fucking fairytale thing.

 

Katsuki had known Deku since kindergarten. The green-haired nerd should know that Katsuki was not that kind of guy. And Pikachu always had a knack for motivation (which explained how he convinced Katsuki to take up his dare).

 

Maybe everything’s going to be okay.

 

With Kaminari’s words in mind, Katsuki determinedly clenched his fist, a maniacal grin on his face as he felt a sudden surge of empowerment.

 

"I guess you’re fucking right. Go beyond, Plus Ultra!" Katsuki bellowed, even beating his chest for extra effect. After all, there was nothing like a bit of chest beating to get your blood pumping.

 

Kaminari seemed to not share Katsuki’s opinion because he stared at the spiky-haired blonde like he had just declared he had seen All Might in his cheeseburger. "Have you been up late watching The League Of Heroes again? I told you to stay off the Hero Network during school days, man. Shit like that screws with your brain."

 

In Katsuki’s defense, he didn’t intend to watch ten episodes of The League Of Heroes last night. He was just boringly messing with the TV remote and stumbled upon Hero Network. He swore it was purely coincidental. He had no idea there was scheduled marathon last night. Nope.

 

Ignoring Kaminari’s previous statement, Katsuki grinned and clasped Pikachu’s shoulder. "You’re not a fucking dumbass, after all!" Katsuki then raced out the door, leaving Kaminari scratching his head and muttering something about 'PMS becoming a world pandemic'.


Masking tape? Check.

 

Black Sharpie? Check.

 

Twelve by eight inch full color photocopy of Katsuki’s All Might adorned ass? Check.

 

Katsuki strode purposefully along the hallway, head held high, equipment clutched firmly in one hand, pointedly ignoring the whispers of gossip that the extras around him indulged in to substitute for their fucking lack of social life.

 

"Did you hear about the streaker in the library on Sunday? I bet it was one of those sex-crazed psychopaths we always hear about in the news!"

 

"Really? I heard it was the cross-dressing, homeless guy who has a fetish for The League Of Heroes!"

 

"No way, man! Maybe it was a homeless, cross-dressing, sex-crazed psychopath obsessed with The League Of Heroes!"

 

"Fucking douchebags," Katsuki muttered before inwardly breathing a sigh of relief that the real identity of the 'streaker' remained unknown.

 

And just for the record, Katsuki was not ’streaking', as the extras so crudely had put it. He was just preserving his dignity (Not that there was any left).

 

Reaching the lockers, Katsuki found the area deserted. Feeling like a member of the JSDF, the blonde crept up to locker number 715, tore off a piece of tape, and attached the two-dimensional replica of his butt to the front. After glancing furtively left and right, he uncapped his Sharpie and scrawled the words 'Go out with me, Shitty Deku.' across All Might’s forehead. (He hoped his favorite superhero would understand that desperate times call for desperate measures.)

 

Katsuki took one precious moment to lean back and admire his handiwork (Not fucking bad at all). But it was missing something. Frowning, the blonde added 'P.S. I can fucking explain' as an afterthought—just in case the green-haired nerd was still under the impression that Katsuki was an incredibly disturbed individual. There. It was now fucking perfect.

 

Mission: accomplished.

 

(He hoped.)


"So I went straight up to her and said: 'Hey, my name’s Microsoft. Can I crash at your place tonight?’"

 

"And then?"

 

"She slapped me."

 

"Was she hot?"

 

"Hot? That girl was on fire, man!"

 

"So was it worth it, then?"

 

"Are you kidding me?! She touched me! What more could I ask for?"

 

Exhibit A: two extras discussing a party they attended Saturday night.

 

Katsuki: with sinking feeling that he was most likely one step away from ending up just like those losers.

 

Two days, four hours, twenty-six minutes, thirteen seconds and still nothing. No smile, no wave, no acknowledgement that he even existed. Katsuki was fucking dying here. And it seemed like Deku didn't give a damn.

 

Kaminari materialized out of thin air, clutching a hand theatrically to his chest before sighing dramatically, ”Holy shit, Bakugou! What happened to your face? You look like you swallowed a dozen of lemons, man."

 

Considering the guy Katsuki was crazy about thought he was some kind of sick pervert, he didn't appreciate the electrocuted Pikachu’s moment of 'hilarity'. "Shut the fuck up, Pikachu.”

 

Katsuki’s sarcasm must have penetrated because Kaminari sympathetically slapped his shoulder. "Hey! Don't worry about it, Bakugou. Maybe Midoriya’s just not that into you?"

 

"Thanks, Pikachu. I feel so much better now," Katsuki glowered.

 

Kaminari held his arms up in defense and shrugged. "Sorry, Bakugou. You know I'm not good at this comfort shit."

 

Sighing, Katsuki felt the energy drain out of him. "It's fucking fine. I don't even like Deku that much anyway."

 

Kaminari raised his eyebrows, but didn't say a word. Let's just say Katsuki was not the best liar out there.

 

They continued walking; discussing fascinating topics which plagued their minds like how many hotdogs could they possibly consume in five minutes and the blinding awesomeness of The League Of Heroes live action movie, when something caught Katsuki’s eye.

 

He froze.

 

There was a fucking note on his locker.

 

A picture of Eraserhead-patterned boxers with something written across the top.

 

Katsuki’s heart skipped a beat. For a quick second, a part of him thought that maybe, just maybe, he had a chance.

 

'All Might called. He wants his boxers back, Kacchan.'

 

Brain: Processing information.

 

"You okay, dude?"

 

Brain: Still processing.

 

"Bakugou?"

 

Brain: Holy shit. Did the nerd just fucking rejected him?

 

Cue: moment of realization.

 

Heart: crushed by the brutal fist of reality.

 

What was Katsuki even thinking; taping a photo of his ass and a love declaration on Deku’s locker for the whole world to see? He should had fucking known. If there was ever a moment to exile himself to Pluto and live amongst extraterrestrials who would accepted his stupid-as-fuck behavior, it was now.

 

Katsuki lifted his hand, ready to rip the photo off his locker, run it through a paper shredder, burn the pieces with a flamethrower, and distribute the ashes on all seven continents.

 

As Katsuki reached forward, Kaminari suddenly raised an arm to stop him. The spiky-haired blonde looked at him questioningly. Grinning, Kaminari gestured to the corner of the page.

 

Katsuki stopped breathing.

 

'P.S. I'm free on Saturday!'