firm believer of sorts in 'the arts', as she liked to call them. Entering her room was a unique experience-- beautiful collisions of pink, baby blue, and other pastels filled one side, and a starkly contrasting color scheme of black, purple, and night blue filled the other side. The brunette liked to keep her cute and 'average' items on the light side, and only kept/did witchcraft-related stuff on the dark side. Izuku wondered how she managed to have so much time, money, and drive to live out her interests as freely as she did.

One day, he naturally asked. She simply laughed and replied, "I draw requests online. Also...Twitter is a great place to get extra coins."

Izuku also drew a lot in his spare time (even taking paid requests online), but it never paid that well. Ochako had an entire altar, a collection of crystals, bells, small sacks of the purest salt, sage, envelopes, two wands, among other items Midoriya knew couldn't have been cheap. What exactly was Ochako being paid to draw? And why did she mention Twitter? Izuku honestly didn't want to know.

Either way, he and Iida had decided to head over to her place, with her knowledge of course.

"Hey, guys!" Ochako smiled brightly, ushering her friends inside. Iida observed the room, chuckling nervously a bit. There were lit yellow candles everywhere, and a few were on the floor in a circle.

"What're you up to this time?" He asked. Izuku eyed his friend's reaction with amusement. While he was somewhat interested in Ochako's affairs, Iida was oftentimes uneasy.

"It's nothing crazy, I swear," Uraraka laughed, gesturing to the candles. "I'm just cleansing my space and cleaning my stones, that's all."

"Oh," Izuku hummed, inhaling the pleasant scent that filled the room. Lavender.

Uraraka's room always smelt amazing; the entire area felt like a method to calm anxiety. It was like that in high school too whenever the trio would visit her house. Because of that and her easy-going, caring personality, Izuku became comfortable with showing her the most vulnerable sides of him.

Iida visibly relaxed.

Ochako chuckled and sat down on the large carpet underneath them. She looked up at her friends with a grin. "I'm gonna meditate. Wanna join?"

Izuku joined her. "I've got nothing to do, so sure."

Iida hesitantly did the same, folding his legs as he did. "I don't know if I can concentrate for that long, to begin with."

"I'll guide you through it," Ochako waved nonchalantly.

"Neat," Izuku commented. "I've been wanting to clear my mind, anyway."

________

A girl straightened abruptly, threading her sharp, pink acrylic nails through the nude-colored hairs on her scalp.

She blinked slowly, twisting her torso around to eye the blond male on the bed behind her.

"Katsuki~" she singsonged, "I want some attention."

The boy in question only groaned in annoyance, lazily rolling over on the mattress before spitting a few curses. He was very much high and hadn't completely recovered from his hangover from the night before.

Camie scowled deeply and shook her head as if the action would shake the awful mood Katsuki emitted. She didn't want him ruining her high.

She strutted over to the thin white lines that were distributed evenly on the study desk, shoveling some of the powder with a single nail. She brought it up to her nose, inhaling it sharply.

Camie supposed she might've been walking on her grave (both because of Katsuki's strict rules against bringing cocaine to his room, and because she'd done a little too much), but she pushed the thought away, squeezing her brown eyes tightly and smiling.

A sharp, tingling pain pinched her nose, and thick crimson liquid cascaded from the nostrils, its journey ending abruptly with a hasty swipe of her hand. The blood had smeared above her cupid's bow, not that she noticed (or cared).

"Katsuki, help me out a little here," she hummed, her muscles twitching a bit, and she shivered in a sudden wave of sexual need.

The brunette crossed her arms and lifted the hem of her shirt before throwing it off completely, lightly twisting her nipples between her fingers. She climbed on to the bed, straddling Katsuki's waist.

"Wake up, or I'll help myself," Camie said, laughing a little.

Blood persistently trickled down her nostrils, but she didn't give it any attention as she rotated her hips, grinding against Katsuki's lower half. She panted, then froze up in a sudden panic.

"H-hey, wake up," she stuttered, feeling the cold terrifying rush of anxiety and panic seep in. "A-are you fucking dead?"

Katsuki stirred.

She shook his shoulders wildly, tears springing from her wide, crazed eyes. "Hey, you listening?! Are you breathing? Can you breathe? I can't feel your fucking oxygen, I can't feel you right now." She began to hyperventilate. "I-I can't feel your fucking skin, I can't feel you-"

"What the fuck, Camie?" Bakugou groaned sluggishly, his face twisted in confusion, irritation, and disgust.

"Oh thank god," Camie sighed, her cheeks red and damp. She pressed her bare chest against Katsuki's, snuggling her face into his neck.

"Get the fuck off me," Bakugou hissed, too lethargic to do it himself. Camie massaged his neck with her fingers, occasionally brushing them over the flaxen baby hairs at the back of his head.

With her free hand, Camie reached for Bakugou's phone behind his back, entering the passcode she'd memorized.

"No way. You gave me a heart attack, so now you owe me. Make me cum."

The phone camera silently clicked.

Katsuki opened his mouth to curse her out, but his headache protested. He inhaled, ignorant to the picture that'd just been taken. "Camie, I'm going to fucking kill you when I sober up."

The girl chuckled, her senses tingling. She set the picture she'd taken as her contact photo, and quickly pressed the home button. "Kinky."

"I'm serious, you bitch. I honestly don't know why I still talk to your crazy ass."

Camie smiled mockingly, pulling away to observe the look on Katsuki's face. Sure enough, he had a bitter, thoughtful expression-- his lips folded into a flat line and his brows furrowed.

Katsuki and Camie had...history.

Years ago, Bakugou didn't have the luxury to sleep in his own bed for more than five months. It was the result of his countless fuck ups, but Katsuki liked to imagine that stuff like consequences didn't apply to him.

Near the end of the cluster fuck some would call his highschool years, Katsuki was sent to a rehabilitation center. Because, for the love of fucking God, Katsuki needed to stop doing morphine and codeine and fuck knows what. No kid should be that willing to die.

(Those were the words of his mother. Katsuki liked to pretend that that period of his life never existed.)

He met Camie at the center. She was reserved and shy but charismatic, and he became somewhat attached to her overtime for reasons he didn't like to acknowledge.

After going back home, they'd kept contact, becoming more entangled in the unhealthiest ways possible. Katsuki was constantly irritated and angry with Camie for overstepping boundaries, but he enjoyed returning to the one person that encouraged his interpretation of masculinity. Camie hated being anything besides Katsuki's biggest priority, and she hated his pride and self-righteous behavior, but she desperately held on to the most stable thing she had. After all, she had a better chance of having an enjoyable relationship with him more than anyone else.

"I'll ignore your insults for now," Camie traced her tongue up Katsuki's neck. "I wanna feel good."

"I won't tell you again to get the fuck off me." Katsuki folded his lips, his patience running thin. Camie bristled.

"Why are you doing this to me?" She asked, her voice venomous as she sunk her nails into his neck. "I'm always the one you come running to when you need a reminder that you're not a fucking fag. Why can't you make yourself available for me?"

Bakugou weakly eased her off him a bit, scowling as his headache shot up. "I don't owe you anything."

"You do, you confused little shit," she spat, her high spurring her on, "You're so stingy, and you call yourself a man. Can't do a girl a solid."

Katsuki bared his teeth, smiling mockingly. "Maybe I just want another girl. Maybe I raised my standards."

"Fuck you," Camie spat, lifting herself off Katsuki. She hastily grabbed her shirt and swept the remaining white powder off the dresser with her fingers. "The next time you come running, I'll laugh in your face!"

Katsuki scowled, not bothering to turn around.

"I don't care. Leave."

_______