Garmadon and Morro, and their unused dumbassery in the departed realm, part 5:
Part 4 - Part 6
*arguing with someone, maybe Chen*
Morro: yeah? Well why don’t you go SUCK MY-
Garmadon: *covers his mouth* he didn’t mean that.
Garmadon: Well, he did, and I share the sentiment, but in a more dignified manner.
Morro: Garmadon, what’s that.
Garmadon: what is what?
Morro: *pointing at the very fast flying object hurtling towards them.* that.
Garmadon: *turns around uninterestedly to see.* hm?-
Garmadon: *look up to see his father flying full speed ahead on top of a dragon, standing with a sign saying “WELCOME SON AND GRAND CHILD, WORDS WILL BE SHARED IN THE NEXT FEW SECONDS, BE PREPARED.” In bold.*
Garmadon: *blinks up at it*
Garmadon: *picks Morro up and makes a run for it* all of our mistakes hurtling towards us, child.
Morro:…why, is your father, the First Spinjitzu master, chasing us?
Garmadon: It’s punishment in the form of torture.
Fsm: *wishes to smother them* YOU CANNOT RUN, MY CHILDREN.
Garmadon: Morro, dear child, genuinely, what is wrong with you.
Morro: *standing being half alive half not (literally half alive half dead one side of his form has a body the other does not. You can see his insides.), glowing pink, and tied to a tree as he floats upwards. He has the most blank expression known to man.* I blame Wu, and only Wu.
Garmadon: He is not even dead.
Morro: yet.
Garmadon:….what did you do-
Garmadon: Morro.
Morro: mmshshh *laying face down on the ground, just cause he can*
Garmadon: No- Morro.
Morro: what? *muffled by the grass.*
Garmadon: Child, you had a bowl cut?
Morro: *shoots up* WHERE WHAT WHY HOW-
Morro: *having just entered the Departed realm, bumping into Garmadon for the first time since the other was chained up*
Garmadon: Morro, what a pleasure.
Morro: *jumps.* Garmadon, I see you made it out of-
Garmadon: *raises an eyebrow.*
Morro:
Morro:
Morro: ah
Morro: what…are you wearing?
Garmadon, who traded his clothes with Lloyd right before he left, as a last minute gift before they never see each other again: *scowls* it’s better than what you’re wearing.
Morro: I DIED IN THIS?-
Guys please im losing ideas i gotta scrounge up the worst ones imaginable in my head.
Anyways the Fsm defo jumped Garm and Morro, bullied them, and smothered them in love. He’s been lonely for the past few years. No i do not take criticism this is definitely the fsm.
I miss Morro. And Sensei Garmadon. I rlly want smth on these two.
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TW: noncon, yandere, omegaverse, subjugation, some type of sexism, angsty, also a little fluffy?
fem reader
Discussions about superiority and inferiority between Alphas, Betas, and Omegas have become more popular lately. It’s always been many people’s opinion that the weak should cater to those stronger than them—but a debate with that as its topic is unsavory. Unfortunately, they’ve found new ways to phrase it.
A resonating “Unmated Omegas are a danger to themselves!” garners much more sympathy…
And with the rise of people talking about it in the media, it was only natural to move the conversation into school as well.
You keep your head bowed in class as the chill runs down your spine. You feel the glare of thirty fellow students—the points of their teeth, too, and how they snicker under their breath. It’s always been rather scary being an omega, but you can’t say you’ve ever felt quite so alone.
The teacher’s an alpha, so why should he care how what he says impacts you? He’s preaching to the choir, and you’ve never had the right to sing. The three other Omegas in your class have all chosen to stay home. They probably have the right idea—wait it out until it all blows over.
But you don’t know when that might be… You don’t know if that will be.
Society is on the precipice of critical change—new politics, new laws, new systems, new rights that separate you from them. You wallow in fear of the outcome, lying awake at night and scrolling through the news under the safety of your duvet. The statements seem endless. You wonder, why are all politicians Alphas?
You don’t want any of the things they’re suggesting—mating homes to help you find the perfect Alpha to bond with, systematic pairings done from birth, auctions. Is no one going to suggest they put shock collars on all Alphas and Betas to keep them in check? They’re the ones who need to—
“Your scent is distracting the whole class—don’t you feel ashamed?”
It’s too easy for him to have you bent over the desk, your wrist on your back in his big fist as he wraps his tie around them. He and his goons stand around, all smiles—watching—enjoying it. It’s as if they’ve planned the whole thing, the way two of them peel away from the crowd to grab each their pick of your feet. Parting them, they use your own shoelaces to tie them to the desk legs.
The ringleader laughs. There’s an awful smell coming off him in waves—it makes you quiver. He flips your skirt up and whistles at the sight, showing everyone your ass and cotton undies. The bulge he presses against you is enough to make your tears spill despite how hard you’d fought to keep them at bay, knowing it only arouses them further.
“Aww, don’t cry, little bitch. You should be happy,” he coos, leaning over your trapped form to whisper right at your ear. “Don’t you know? You’ll never feel happier than you will bouncing on my big Alpha dick. It’s all your little Omega cunt dreams about, isn’t it?” He snickers, fiddling with his belt buckle—you flinch at every sharp clink as he jostles the metal. “Well, salvation is here—”
“Keep it to yourself.” Another voice breaks through the sounds of hollers and cheers.
Your eyes open to see him. You despise how your heart jumps in relief.
“Oi, you—” the guy at your back challenges, stepping away from you and toward the interruption.
“Yeah, me,” he states blankly, jaded. He eyes the rest of the guys with disinterest—five betas, zero threat—before telling them, “All of you. Scram.”
They all take a step to walk out as if his voice alone had compelled them, but then the previous guy interjects, making them stop in their tracks again. “Tch—you know what they’re saying. All unmated Omegas are free game, and I won this one. So back off.”
It was like watching a match of tug-of-war.
“Heh,” the intruder laughs. “That rule only counts for Alphas.”
You spot your aggressor's fists curl—there’s a growl rumbling in the back of his throat. “I am an Alpha, asshole.”
“Really?” he feigns, sizing him up with a cocky tilt of his head. “Couldn’t tell.” He doesn’t seem fazed in light of the aggression—actually, it seems to amuse him if anything. “To me, you smell no different from all these other Beta losers.”
He takes a casual step forward, hands in his pockets and a smile on his face—baring canines with grace.
“But if you wanna prove it, I’m ready when you are.”
It’s quiet after the declaration. The betas are unsure who’s side to pick, none of them eager to get caught in the middle. It becomes a competition purely between the two Alphas.
Without backup, your aggressor backs down and leaves.
“Thought so,” your savior jeers, showing the crowd out, closing and locking the door behind them.
It’s quiet after they’ve left.
You hide your face. Listening to his footsteps approach—he sighs when taking the place of the former guy. He doesn’t touch you, though.
“Y’know…” he starts. “That guy might be trash, but he isn’t wrong…” He picks up your skirt and drapes it back in place. “None of this would ever happen if you weren’t unmated.”
You speak through grit teeth. “Untie me.”
He chuckles familiarly at that, clicking his tongue at you. “What? Aren’t you gonna say please?” But he does what you say anyway. Squatting down, he starts with your ankles.
The scent of your fear still lingers in the air despite your tough act. You’ve always been so steadfast, ever since you were kids, even when it does you no good. He frees your feet—one, then the other, slowly—he even reties your laces into pretty bows before he’s done.
He remembers it being so obvious. The sun rose in the morning and the moon at night, and you were supposed to be an Alpha while he a Beta at best. You promised you’d be by his side to keep him safe forever, and he wanted nothing more.
But then puberty hit, and nothing was as you’d imagined.
He stands and unknots the tie keeping your wrists restrained.
You immediately push him off—already storming away.
“Do I get no thank you, no nothing? Always so stubborn—” He grabs your arm.
You spin around, an unnatural snarl on your face. “Let go!”
You’d have been a terrifying Alpha. But as fate has it, you’re not. And you shouldn’t act like it. It only lands you in trouble.
But he doesn’t say that.
“You been watchin’ the news?” he says instead, ignoring your cry and keeping a firm grip on your arm. “Seems like auctions are winning the voters. You know what that means?”
He feels you flinch, followed by a quiver. He can tell. No matter how good you are at hiding it. He can see—the way you’re fraying at the edges, barely holding it together. Always acting so strong. He can’t tell whether you enjoy torturing yourself or if you’re just that good at convincing yourself you’re fine.
“Pretty soon, new authorities are gonna come storming in here, roundin’ up every sorry unmated Omega they find, and put ‘em all on a farm where pompous Alphas can have their pick of the litter.”
He can never tell what you’re thinking, but he knows he doesn’t need to tell you any of this. You’re not stupid, you never have been. He knows you already know. But…
“You should decide now while it’s still your choice.”
You must be terrified. He understands. But truly… it’s obvious what you have to do, isn’t it?
“It’s not like you have many options.”
It’s obvious. It always has been.
You don’t meet his eyes. You haven’t for a long while. Actually, you haven't since both of you got your test results. He understands this wasn’t what you had in mind, but you can’t afford to mope about it forever—
“How am I supposed to choose any Alpha when you’re all such assholes…”
Your mutter stunts him. It wasn’t what he expected. Or, the words were more or less exactly something he’d expect from you, but that voice—quiet and soft, dangling on the brink of sweet. If you’d said anything else, he’d have taken it as a confession.
“Can't argue with that,” he ends up chuckling again.
You hate how easy this is for him. He would cry at every turn when you were kids. It’s unfair.
“But you can’t keep doing this, either,” he states. His voice is soft, paired with that ugly authority they all have when talking to you—talking down to you. “Just look where it gets you—scared and exhausted because of it. At least have the brains to stay home.” He says it as if it’s a joke, but you both know it isn’t. His chuckles are light—far from fullhearted.
He bends down, trying to find your eyes. He still holds onto your arm, knowing you’d sooner stomp away than listen to him. His other hand brushes your cheek gently, tucking your hair behind your ear.
“You hear the call from the rafters—it’s not about what you want anymore. It’s about what you need.”
That’s what they say, isn’t it? What you need. You want to slap him. Scratch him with claws, bite his throat out—make him choke on his own words. Need? What you need is for them all to fuck off.
You mean to say it with the same sentiment, but something hard and rough in your throat makes all your words come out wobbly. “Mate an Alpha to stay safe from other Alphas. What a joke.”
You bow your head further. The tears return. They burn as they trail down the sore streaks from before.
He’s never seen you like this. He won’t lie, it makes his pants tight—feeling the urge to suck your cheeks, hold you close and comfort you. But knowing you right, you’d probably never let him. Your face would probably scrunch up in disgust, punch his gut, knee his groin, then turn on your heel and leave him on the floor wheezing.
You really would have made the most terrifying Alpha.
“The world isn’t fair,” he agrees. “But you get nowhere cryin’ about it—do it my way, and you’ll never—”
“Have any freedom,” you cut him off with a sniffle.
It’s about the most adorable thing he’s seen in his life.
He gets why you don’t like Alphas—they’re all gross. He makes himself sick sometimes. He can’t believe he’s getting off on watching you have a mental breakdown. There’s something seriously wrong with his side of the species. His throat’s tight, mouth watery with the urge to reap your vulnerability.
Suppressing it only makes his inner beast furious. Some of that aggression comes out in his next words.
“I’m sorry, but the world doesn’t give a shit about your freedom.”
The grip around your arm tightens, and you look up in shock—watching his narrowed eyes through your watery ones.
“What you need is safety—now more than ever. Or do you like being preyed on by every Alpha around the corner?”
Your bottom lip trembles at the reality of it—a little while ago, you were almost—
“One of these days, I'm not gonna be here in time, and you’ll be a slave to some fucking—”
He huffs and hangs his head. His hand loosens up—it trembles where he holds you in place.
“In all honesty, I think I’m more scared than you,” he whispers under his breath. “I think I might kill—”
He stops himself again. You don’t know if it’s in an effort not to frighten you or himself.
“Speak about needs…” he begins anew, now softer. “I need to know you’re safe. I need to—” He looks up. His eyes are back to being round. “I need you more than you need me, probably.”
There’s a desperation on his face. It almost looks like he’s on the verge of tears himself.
“So… please?” he begs. “Will you keep me safe like you promised and stay by my side?”
Your tears dry and prickle. Looking into his eyes now, you see the same boy you knew back in your childhood—that one who’d chase you all over even when you’d call him a sniveling crybaby. You realize, Alpha or not, he hadn’t changed all that much at all.
“It’s not like you need my permission,” you end up saying.
You’ve always been so hard-headed. He has to smile. “No, but I want it.”
You nibble your lip. You can’t believe you’re at the mercy of this big dumb hunk of… you don’t have the words to describe him. He wasn’t exactly a crybaby anymore.
“Okay. You win.”
His eyes widen as you bear your neck with a stretch. Head high and shoulders slack.
You swallow thickly. “Get it over with.”
He shudders at the sight. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but now it almost seemed too soon.
“We should be supervised by a professional—you know how wrong things can go—”
“Hurry up before I change my mind.” Your eyes remain shut, and your lips pursed.
His tongue grows thick in his mouth at your bark. A sudden stroke of performance anxiety makes his palms sweaty, hands heavy and shaking. But then the sight of your soft neck has his mood shift, becoming drowsy.
He has no control over the growl that begins rumbling from his gut.
But he doesn’t apologize for it either.
He bends forward—breaths on your chest before he licks your throat. You can’t help but whimper at the warmth. He watches you through hooded eyes—your usually angry face is now all cute, riddled with anxiety you try hiding paired with the grim anticipation of pain.
“Shh,” he soothes, kissing the spot softly. He sways you against him, then lifts you up on the desk for you to sit. Grazing your neck with teeth when feeling your hands tangle two fistfuls of his shirt. He expects you to push him away, but you don’t—you tug him closer instead as if silently telling him to hurry up.
But he doesn’t want to rush, doesn’t want to lose himself—that’s how accidents happen. So he sticks to sucking gently, only tiny nibbles that leave your skin hot and lightly bruised in their wake.
You give a moan once he finds the spot, and he growls in restraint upon the pretty sound—feeling you relax despite being threatened with his teeth right at your artery. He almost humps your leg in return, feeling the boil of blood pump him hot and heavy in his pants—breaths turning equally hot and heavy, each one laced with rust.
Drool coated your neck in a cool sheen, soothing the marks made beneath it, while his lips and fangs aroused pleasure in the spot that now ached for the sting of his bite.
“Please,” slipped from your mouth while tugging him closer.
His eyes, completely drunk on the pretty prayer, had only a slim rim of color left surrounding the hungering bottomless pits, blown full and black with opium.
No one could come and take you away from him now. Not with his print so pretty on your neck. You were his—just as you were always supposed to be.
♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Natsuo, Amajiki, Mirio
♡ JJK – Yuji, Yuuta
♡ HQ – Kuro, Miya twins
♡ DS – Tanjiro, Zenitsu
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist
♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
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This is a kinda random request but how would the sytherin boys react when they see boxers in your room assuming it’s another guys when it’s actually yours. I wear boxers so i just randomly thought of this. 💗💗
This is actually fire, I gladly imagined how this situation would play out. Although some things go similarly, I tried to differentiate their reactions and actions a little bit. Enjoy this crack :)
Slytherin boys x reader
How come you’ve been in a relationship for some time already and they don’t know that you wear boxers ? God knows, maybe they’ve just had a rough day and all critical thinking tends to fly out the window. Jealousy and fear of losing you are hard emotions to control…
Theodore Nott:
when Theo sees them, he aggressively cups your face and pierces your soul with his hunter like eyes all of a sudden
“that’s one skinny bastard that you’re fucking behind my back, does he even have a dick?”, he refers to your own boxers, that are obviously a few sizes smaller
“Tell me, how come you’re such a slut that having me isn’t enough? you actually have to find yourself a side bitch?”
it took some time to recover from his harsh scolding, but soon enough your brain worked again and spat out the right words
Theo backs up in shock when hearing your explanation that made a lot of sense
As a returning favor he should get a scolding too for immediately jumping to conclusions and not communicating properly, but they’re all a bunch of hotheads anyway
It all turns into a funny anecdote though, which also serves as a reminder for him to trust his girl
Tom Riddle:
as soon as he sees them lying around somewhere his expression becomes stoic, brows furrowed just the tiniest bit and lips pursed
of course you noticed even the slightest change, so you reach for his hand to ask him what was wrong. you remember though that sometimes he just gets stressed because he has so much to think about
without properly getting to know the situation he would want to insult and intimidate you, he immediately fumes and threatens: “you are dead to me, and you are going to regret this”
his words and tone especially made you want to cry, you felt yourself curling up, standing beneath his tall frame, not even knowing what you did
he was not only mad at you, but also at himself for letting his guard down, which led to him being played like a fool. there was nothing more important that his self worth and dignity to him
still, you begged and whined for him to stay and when you finally understood that he saw “another guys” boxers on your floor, you actually scoffed and remained speechless for a while
although he was slightly paranoid that you might be lying to him, he saw how distressed you were when he wanted to break up, and that’s something you can’t fake (he still is very wary though, and has to pretend he didn’t just imagine ways to kill and torture “the other guy”)
Mattheo Riddle:
like his brother, he couldn’t stand the thought of someone hurting him, only the other way around
especially with his abandonment issues too this makes him jump from zero to one hundred
but unlike Tom he actually wants to hear your side, to decide how he should handle this and scorned at you: “for fucks sake, you’ve been cheating on me? I don’t know if you thought I was never going to find out, but keeping his bloody boxers is just disgusting. You care to explain?!”
He even picks them up from your bed, and throws them into a corner, shooting them and you a disgusting look
You don’t appreciate his attitude at all, and if that boy knew that he just threw your own boxers, he’d be down on his knees
You can’t take this seriously and tell him “never seen a girl wear boxers?”, that made things so awkward, and Mattheo quickly apologizes, hopefully you’d forget about this…
Draco Malfoy:
His jealousy promptly get the better of him and he thinks about all the idiots that have tried hitting on you, or ever liked you, which one of them was it?
He couldn’t believe that anyone was worth jeopardizing your relationship, but apparently so
Grabbing you close to him, while pointing at the boxers, he growls “so whose are they huh? Carter? Lewis? You better tell me it’s not that stupid Potter”
While you’re talking, he is still so mad that isn’t even hearing everything that you’re saying, he physically couldn’t calm down when thinking about you jumping into bed with someone else
He would take the boxers too, observing at them closely, and then somewhat sneered “I didn’t know girls also wore boxers”
Draco wouldn’t necessarily be a fan, but came to the conclusion that what you wear under your clothes really wasn’t any of his business
At some point he also wants to see what you look like wearing them, and they actually looked kind of cool
Blaise Zabini:
just like all the others, his thoughts immediately jump to violence, for instance how to get the other guy admitted into the hospital wing
but something makes him stop and think—why wouldn’t you even bother to hide them somewhere? did you think he was so incredibly blind, or did you actually have nothing to hide?
Still his temper gets the best of him and accuses you of being “shameless” and asks if you were trying to insinuate that he “wasn’t good enough” because you’re wrong and he can fuck you better than anyone else
He always thought that everything was going well, so you being unsatisfied was really the last thing he expected
Fortunately everything gets resolved quite easily since you reassure him, and you even tease him about his jealousy
For the rest of the night, Blaise in fact proves that he can fuck you the best. That was the best apology for doubting you in the first place
Lorenzo Berkshire:
He gets extremely upset and has an outburst too, but with a hint of self consciousness, asking you how you could do this to him, when he’s always trying his best
Enzo also relies on guilt, wanting to make you feel like absolute shit, he says stuff like “i gave up being a player for you because I love- loved- you so much, but apparently you see me as nothing
You have to try your hardest to make him see how ridiculous he was being, and he demands you tell him how you would never cheat on him
Seeing you in your boxers for the first time also makes him smirk, you could really rock anything
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love f2l where he’s already hopelessly in love with you and pining in a way that’s so obvious to everyone else but you, but also love the moment in f2l where it clicks that “oh shit… i think my friend just turned me on.” even better when one person doesn’t realize they’ve turned the other one on and they’ve just gotta live with the memory replaying in their head for a few days. friends keep saying they’re distracted and they just nod their head like yeah uh sorry… was uh… sorry what were we talking about? bc these days if it’s not about that moment, zero processing has gone on
megumi and satoru are the worst at coping with this.
for megumi, it’s such a 180, a switch has been completely turned on when it happens, that it makes him upset. he can’t even tell if he’s angry that it happened in the first place, that he couldn’t tell he was attracted to you before, that he can’t stop thinking about it now, or that it’s possible that other people could have already had this realization and be thinking of you like this too. every option brings a mean scowl to his face. and it’s embarrassing above all because you were just trying to take off your shoes. when lifting your leg and holding onto to his bicep wasn’t enough, you crouch down to struggle with the straps instead. megumi sighs—all he wanted to do was get your drunken ass home in one piece and now you’re crouched down in the middle of the street, and when he looks down to see what’s taking so long, that’s when it hits him. you bent down like that, looking up at him and groaning and pulling on his shirt and whining for him to help you does very terrible things to him. and it shouldn’t, you’re only calling for him because you lack the hand-eye coordination (and clearly critical thinking because this is the middle of the road and you cannot walk barefoot) right now to undo your shoes, but it’s your blown pupils and pout and the calling for him—you have to stop whining. and saying his name. immediately—not to mention the angle and tilt of your head to look up at him. megumi can barely help himself, much less you, which is why he grumbles, hoists you up by the scruff of your neck so you’re standing up right. you giggle in your haze but megumi just hisses his teeth, tells you “stop looking at me like that,” and before your mind can catch up, he grabs you by the waist and hoists you over his shoulder because looking at your face is not an option right now. and this is for the best for everyone—now your feet don’t hurt, you’ve stopped groaning, there’s no more eye contact, and megumi has the rest of the walk back to your apartment to contemplate what the fuck just happened to him
for satoru, it’s actually partially his fault, because not only is it so far from sexual and yet turns him on anyway, but he’s so annoying that his actions lead to a cascade of other terrible turn-ons that and now it’s a cyclical problem. you’re just borrowing something of his for the convince of it—his glasses because it’s sunny, or maybe his jacket because it’s cold, something small and innocent—but it ignites such a strong flame in him that his visceral reaction is to snatch it right back from you, and run away like some school girl. “hey—satoru what the fuck, come on, you weren’t even using it!” you call, but your voice is already an echo at the speed he’s scurried away from you. the flash vision of you in his belongings was terrible, but it’s the memory of it that makes it worse, brings a blush to his face, and leave him shaking his head like a crazy person because what the fuck this is insane. you didn’t even do anything so he has no reason to act like this, there’s no way the slightest insinuation of you thinking of him/his belongings as something to borrow, or hold, or have should make him react this way, but it does. and he hates it. and he’s not normal about it at all, and it takes you confronting him, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him back and forth, asking him what the fuck is wrong with him, which is warranted, but worse because that also leaves him red from his face to his check with Awful Realization Numbers 2 and 3: (2) you usually just Deal with him being strange, but right now you’re mad and you’re really hot when you’re mad, and (3) you’re very close to choking him out right now and if you did, he wouldn’t stop you
yuuji is the one who has had this effect on more people than he knows, which is hilarious to think about because he’s either completely oblivious, or using his charm to play innocent. and when you have that moment, you’re definitely left stunned. you were just fishing for more snacks for your self-care night—a tradition that used to between you and nobara, but now includes megumi, and most times yuuji, but tonight, he had plans with todo, which you were grateful for because there’s no way you could have been around him after what happened. in a hurry to grab his water bottle from the fridge, yuuji doesn’t bother you with words to maneuver through the cramped kitchen, just mindlessly puts his hands on your hips, lifts you, pivots, puts you down, grabs his water bottle, puts it on the counter, lifts you again, pivots, and places you right back where you were, flashing you a million-dollar smile, before grabbing his bottle and rushing out to catch the bus. you’re left blinking, body on autopilot as you finally reach for the chips, and zombie-like when you make your way back to the living room where nobara’s putting a sheet mask on megumi. when you’re finally seated on the couch, you blink for the first time, blurting out to nobody in particular, “is… is itadori hot?” and it’s comedic how quick, blasé, and autonomic the in-sync replies from both megumi and nobara are, “yes”, “unfortunately.” oh. well that’s reassuring you suppose. you might have been the last to realize it, but at least you’re not alone.
if you told yuuta he had the ability to seduce anybody he would probably just laugh awkwardly and think it’s some kind of joke. the great irony is that rooming with him has left you with many instances to confirm that he is attractive, but the defining moment is when you realize just how much yuuta has grown in his year abroad. your apartment is nice and relatively modern, but there are still some tight spaces. usually you and yuuta just giggle while shuffling around each other, but today, you feel like you’ve gotten between a rock and another rock because when did yuuta—your scrawny, awkward, endearing yuuta—gain fifty pounds of muscle? it’s a terrible moment for you to be squished between him and the tiny enclosure of your storage closet and even worse that he’s the one who apologies, and smiles, and carries on reaching for the spare napkins while you’re left with the filthy thoughts about your best friend.
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