Sero strutted into the room like it was a runway, sunglasses on indoors, sipping from a drink with a hot pink straw. He snatched the last donut off the counter without breaking eye contact with anyone watching. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed his scarf, yes, he was wearing a scarf in summer, over his shoulder dramatically. He side eyed Bakugo’s scowl, raised a brow at Kaminari’s confused blink, and silently judged Mineta out of existence.

He sat down like a king claiming his throne, legs crossed, donut in hand, smirk never fading.

Strikes a dramatic pose.

Sero: “I woke up fabulous and none of you were prepared.”