Hello, and welcome to this silly little fic that was born out of an idea that came out of almost nowhere! I'm really excited for it, and I'm going to do my best to put out weekly updates, but if I don't, please bear with me! I'm a college student with quite a bit of homework that, unfortunately, takes priority most of the time.

In a nutshell, this fic is basically about Kirishima using memes to flirt with Bakugou. Because memes are great and I'm lame.

Enjoy~ ♥

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This is fucking bullshit, was all Bakugou Katsuki could think as he was headed down the hall of the boys' dorm. He was practically being dragged towards a shitty new room with a shitty new roommate who was probably even worse of a goody two-shoes teacher's pet than his last one, and if it wasn't obvious, he wasn't happy about it.

"I'm assigning you to a new room with someone who can hopefully help break your bad habits. This is your final warning, Bakugou," Aizawa, dean of the whole godforsaken school, had scolded him the day before. "Your parents and I are good friends, but that doesn't excuse your behavior and I can't put the safety and reputation of this school at risk just because of that."

"Blah blah blah" was all Bakugou had heard; he couldn't care less what this scraggly-haired asshole was bitching at him about, and he almost couldn't care less whether said asshole decided to expel him or not. He'd had more than enough of high school as it was, and if it weren't for that shitty ultimatum his dad had given him a week before he was kicked out of his house and straight into this damn boarding school, he'd have dropped out before even showing up.

Aizawa stopped at the second to last door near the end of the hallway. "Here. Room 416. Try to get along a little better with your roommate this time, alright?" he deadpanned, bloodshot eyes staring condescendingly down at Bakugou through his hair.

"Whatever," the blonde muttered as the elder tapped his knuckles against the dark green door. It swung open almost immediately, revealing a smiling, red haired kid who couldn't be any taller than Bakugou himself (not counting the ridiculous spiky, broom-looking hair, anyway).

"Yo, Mr. Aizawa!" he said in an overly enthusiastic voice that made Bakugou want to puke.

"Evening, Kirishima. Hope you're ready to meet your new roommate."

"'Course," Kirishima beamed. His eyes, a striking, bright red, landed right on Bakugou, and the blonde got ready for the usual—a faltering smile, a look of shock quickly replaced by another fake-ass smile in a lame attempt to cover up the shock (and, in a lot of cases—especially with adults—disgust), and a stiff hello, sometimes accompanied by an offered hand to shake out of forced politeness.

But the shitty-haired loser was unfazed.

"Hey man," he said, sticking a hand out in Bakugou's direction. "Name's Kirishima Eijirou."

Bakugou did nothing but stare at Kirishima's hand, keeping his own wrapped around the strap of his backpack. After a beat of silence, Aizawa was saying his name in that shitty warning tone he'd heard about a trillion times in his lifetime, like he was going to kick Bakugou out of the school if he didn't shake this loser's hand.

The blonde huffed and stuck his hand out. "Bakugou Katsuki," he muttered as the other's hand practically enveloped his with how big it was.

Kirishima gave his hand one firm shake before withdrawing. "Nice to meet ya, man," he said. "C'mon in." He backed out of the doorway to allow Bakugou through. After a minute's hesitation—of much rather wanting to turn and walk back down the hall with his middle fingers in the air than to go into that stupid room—he stepped in.

The room was practically identical to his old one, only flipped. Two full-sized beds sat adjacent to each other on the opposite side of the room from the door, each beside a small dresser with a large window and six or so feet of space between them. On the wall to the right of the door was a simple computer desk containing a few books, notebooks, and a laptop. One side of the room—the side with the bed furthest from the door and nearest the bathroom—was clearly occupied, the bed made up with a red comforter, a couple of posters plastered to the wall. A few of knick knacks and action figures littered the top of the dresser alongside a lamp.

"I'll leave you to it," Aizawa said from the doorway. "If you need anything else, you know where to go."

"Thanks, Mr. Aizawa!" Kirishima called after him before letting the door swing smoothly shut once the man had walked away. He slid his hands casually into the pockets of his sweats as he sauntered over to his bed, an easy smile still spread across his stupid face. "So how goes it, man?"

Bakugou dumped his stuff on the empty bed, averting his eyes from his new roommate, blatantly ignoring him. He really wasn't in the mood for small talk.

"That bad, huh?" he asked as Bakugou was yanking open his bag. His clothes almost immediately spilled out, proving how he'd just stuffed them in without bothering to fold or organize any of it. He'd been too pissed to care.

"Uh, alright... well, welcome, I guess? Make yourself at home and stuff. I'll just be... here." Kirishima flopped onto his bed as if to punctuate his sentence, and still Bakugou ignored him.

He didn't give a shit what this red haired loser did, as long as he didn't touch his shit or get in his way—and that's how it was with everyone, and where his last goody two-shoes roommate made the mistake that had gotten Bakugou reassigned. It was fucking stupid, and Aizawa was an idiot if he thought this was going to 'change his bad habits', whatever the fuck those were.

From the looks of it already, Kirishima didn't appear to be much different than Iida, what with the stupidly enthusiastic way he'd greeted the principal and then let Bakugou into his room without a second thought. Dumb Hair didn't seem quite as nerdy as Iida, but he sure as fuck seemed like a complete suck up, which fucking figured considering Bakugou was on the verge of getting kicked out of this shitty boarding school he never wanted to attend in the first place. It was just his luck that his parents happened to be longtime friends with the damn principal.

"Hey, do you wanna take the desk?" Kirishima piped up as Bakugou was dumping his textbooks out onto the bed he'd merely thrown his sheets onto. Bakugou glanced over his shoulder to find the idiot propped up on an elbow, the opposite thumb jabbed in the direction of the desk. "I don't really use it that much 'cause I mostly just study on my bed, so you can have it if you want it."

"No."

"Okay. Uhm, what about the closet? There's some spare space you can use if you need."

"Nope."

"Oh... alright then."

The room fell back into silence save for Bakugou's shuffling as he worked (frustratedly) to get his shit in decent order. His mom would probably smack him over the head if she saw the way he half-assed folding his clothes and stuffed them into the drawers, or the way he tossed his duffel bag and backpack into the corner without a care in the world.

But she wasn't fucking there to watch his every move anymore, and that was her own damn fault.

No, now he was dealing with shitty Aizawa checking up on him every couple of days, and then asking that fucking Four-Eyed prick about him when he didn't believe his answers. Except now he'd probably be asking this stupid upside down broom who was doing a terrible job of hiding the fact that he was watching Bakugou out of the corner of his big, round eye.

"The fuck are you staring at?" Bakugou muttered as he flopped onto his own bed, phone in hand after returning from putting his shit in the bathroom. He didn't bother glancing in the other's direction. "You want a picture? It'll last longer."

"No thanks," Kirishima said, sitting up on his elbow again from having been holding his phone above his head as he laid on his back (and yes, Bakugou had really been hoping he would drop the thing on his face, maybe crack a tooth). "But I like your hair, man. What do you use on it?"

"Shampoo," Bakugou deadpanned.

"No, I mean to get it to stick up like that. I can't even see the product in it."

"That's because it's fucking natural. Any more stupid questions?" Bakugou finally met the loser's stare, his brows raised.

Kirishima's mouth popped open, his stupid eyes shining in wonder. "Seriously? Damn, I'm jealous."

"Why? 'Cause you have to use cement to get yours to do that?" Bakugou jerked his chin in the other's direction.

Kirishima's smile—one that showed all of his straight, white, stupid teeth—lit up his whole goddamn face. "Yeah, pretty much!" he said with a laugh. "So what about the color? Is it bleached?"

"No." Why the fuck am I talking to this idiot?

"Wow, that's pretty cool, dude. You're blessed with hair you don't even have to do anything with and mine takes at least an hour to do, plus color maintenance every couple months."

"Sucks to be you." Bakugou turned his attention back to his phone and relaxed into the pillows behind him, tucking an arm behind his head as he unlocked the device.

"'S not so bad. I mean, I knew what I was getting myself into when I decided to do it, ya know?"

Bakugou provided a half-assed shrug in response before the room went silent again, and they both went back to their phones. The blonde was halfway done scrolling through his Instagram feed when the redhead sat up and kicked his legs over the edge of his bed.

"Hey, so I'm gonna go get something to eat. Wanna come?"

"Nope."

"Y'sure? I heard the pizza bar is open tonight."

"I'm fucking sure, Dumb Hair."

Katsuki was sure—so sure—that Kirishima would take instant offense to an insult to his hair, but the idiot merely stood up and went for his shoes, saying, "Alright. Suit yourself. I'll be in the mess hall if you change your mind, though."

"Whatever," the blonde muttered, and was glad when Kirishima finally left the room.

This has gotta be some new, shitty version of hell.

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Please, please inform me of any mistakes. No matter how many times I go through and edit, still manage to miss quite a lot and would really appreciate the help!