#* ( asks. )

It's loud and dark. The bass coming off the large speakers at the back of the room makes it feel like the whole house is shaking. And the lights are off, replaced by multicolored beams, mood-lights. It reminds her of being in Weiss's room with his music on almost, just.. Uncomfortable.

Some house on Danube street, one of Whitney's friends. Kind of posh interior but that didn't seem to matter to the other fuckheads spilling booze they probably weren't even old enough to be drinking yet all over the upholstery. The smell of it permeates the air : a cloying mixture of sour alcohol, sweat, whatever floozy febreze had been sprayed before the party started (probably by well meaning parents out for the night leaving behind a spotless house,) and.. Yeah, she definitely smelt weed too. It had started to make her head hurt a while ago, but nowhere in the damn house was quiet. She'd tried to slink off to every niche she could find but it wasn't entirely safe to be alone right now either. She wasn't superstitious but something about the date must have been drawing that thing out.. Brief flashes of unmistakable ivory from the corners of her eyes every so often. Fucking stalking her through the house but unable to make a move thanks to the crowds of warm bodies. How could nobody else see it.. Even if she hadn't particularly wanted to be here, she supposed she should thank Whitney for dragging her along anyways. If he hadn't, she would've been dealing with it alone. Serena just wished he hadn't made her wear such an uncomfortable 'costume.' Costume.. Except it was just this short, skin tight, turtle-neckish sweater shirt and tights with some heavier make-up. 'Looks like that dracula-bitch from motel whatever it was,' or 'a fuckin' witch then,' when she'd told him she had no idea what he was talking about.

Her attempts at shouldering past heavy bodies come to a screeching halt as she's jerked back. Familiar grip on her wrist forcing Serena to comply immediately in turning on her heel to follow after the blonde, they'd just end up playing tug of war until her arm popped out of the socket. She stumbles along, not bothering to ask where they were going, he wouldn't have been able to hear her anyways. It's a blur of RGB disco-esque lights, stupid costumes and shuddering speakers.. Then they're alone. The flimsy wood of the bathroom door doing little to drown out the noise of the party outside it now that it's been closed, but it's enough to think at least. Serena blinks, ruby latching on to aqua as her head tilts upwards enough to meet his gaze. She's a little dazed.. From the party and the tension.. But that doesn't stop her from noticing-

• Also. Also. interesting power dynamic.

(Especially because they used to be teammates. Especially because they used to be lovers. Especially because Lewis has now left everyone standing in a shadow impossible to step out off, but for George, that feels personal. And extra hard. Because he's the one who came after. Yk, this reminds me of George saying that he told Lewis how lucky he is that Lewis didn't decide to quit after AD21 because then everyone would've come at him with flaming torches and pitchforks, looking at the W13.)

• Do we know George's new teammate???

anon!!! you are SO on my wavelength 🤯

     Five words couldn’t begin to cover the years of interactions to miss between these childish friends.  Family camping trips, heroic playfights, Saturday morning cartoons, Auntie Inko’s cooking  –  all tossed out and given up on once Katsuki entered his prideful middle school years.  He thought he could put it all behind him  –  thought that he had to give up the little league friends to start playing with the big league heroes.  Clearly, he was wrong to have underestimated Izuku.

     Now there’s a part of Katsuki that wonders  –  if they had both grown up faster, could they have done more together?   If he hadn’t seen Izuku as an obstacle, could he have ran further?  If you told Katsuki any time before now that he would one day be  this  close with Izuku, he would have mocked you for even thinking such a stupid thought.  But here they were, sitting side-by-side on a sofa, sharing notes and secrets as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

     “Miss talkin’ to me?  Damn nerd  –  the hell’s there to miss?  M’right here, aren’t I?”  He chides, leaning further into the sofa.  “Y’wanna talk so much, then talk, Deku.”

* moonlight meme  /  @dcnerunning​

“How could I refuse such a generous offer?” Flattening a snowy hand to his lapel, he bows his acceptance.  “Thank you.  I’d be most grateful.”

Seating himself in the nearest chair, he laces his fingers and observes with more than ample curiosity the fragrant grounds, the frill-white filters, the gurgle of the coffee-machine, the slowly filling pitcher of tempered glass.  When at last the cup is placed before him – steaming, and licorice black – he closes his eyes and inhales, and to his lips arises a gentle smile.  His first cup – and yet in its rich warm scent, he detects something faintly nostalgic; as if he’s tasted it before, somewhere hushed and quiet.

“What a wonderful aroma.  I can see why so many consider this ‘coffee’ an integral part of their day.”  Lifting it to his lips, he indulges in a generous swallow –

And blanches at the taste.

“Er – uh – no!  No, it’s … delightful!  Just …”  Bitter!  Like sipping from an acid bath.  “ – an acquired taste, I’m sure.  But never to fear.  I’m certain my tastebuds will adapt quickly.  Yes … yes, in fact, I can feel it already!”  With a nervous chuckle, he gazes down into the depths of his mug as if its contents might snatch him by the collar.  How could it be that such an enticing fragrance might belie such a frightful taste? 

But it is too late now.  To turn up his nose at what she’s gone through the trouble of preparing is simply unthinkable.  Closing his eyes, he musters his courage – 

“Um … cheers!”