Tsuyu Asui (grunting softly, tongue flicking out)
"Ribbit... This chair’s got a death grip on me. Either it’s shrinking or my thighs are staging a coup."
She shifts, her enormous chunky legs pressing against the armrests like rising dough. Her wide hips squish and creak against the plastic, and her butt—massive, soft, and unapologetically heavy—refuses to budge.

Ochako (nervously tugging at Tsuyu’s arm)
"Maybe if I pull here—no wait, your tongue’s in the way—"
She’s trying her best, cheeks puffed with effort, but she’s clearly outmatched by Tsuyu’s sheer girth.

Tsuyu (deadpan, burping mid-sentence)
"You’re gonna need a forklift, Ochako. Or a crowbar. Or divine intervention."
Her tongue flops out again, lazily twitching as she wiggles. The chair groans like it’s begging for mercy.

Ochako (panicking slightly)
"I think your butt’s suctioned to the seat! Should I—should I tilt you sideways?"

Tsuyu (flatly)
"Tilt me and I’ll roll like a boulder. You’ll be crushed under cheek avalanche."
She lets out another burp, this one long and low, then sighs.
"I knew I shouldn’t have had that third tub of pudding. But it called to me. Like a siren."

Ochako (giggling despite herself)
"You’re ridiculous."

Tsuyu (smirking, tongue flicking)
"And you’re still stuck helping me. Ribbit."
She finally shifts with a loud squelch, her thighs jiggling like jelly, and the chair gives way with a dramatic pop. Tsuyu stumbles forward, catching herself on Ochako—who nearly topples under the weight.

Tsuyu (dusting herself off, unfazed)
"Victory. At what cost?"