// Start a tiny riot //
Any smart comeback he has turns into ash under the heat of her words, leaving his mouth dry and slightly ajar with definite curiosity and no lack of ideas to shovel into it. As she spins back around with the flash of a grin, his own curls in slow and dangerous. "Anytime, huh? Holding you to that."
When it comes to jam jars, his grin widens into something bright and unashamed. "My jar savior," he swoons. "Although I bet any I can't open are just because you closed them so fucking tight for no reason." He glances over at her amid fiddling with some fabric, 'brows lifted accusingly. "Or didn't clean the rim off before putting the lid on," he mutters, which is practically begging to glue the jar shut. He wouldn't put it past her to actually glue them shut, now that he thinks about it.
The image of their cozy fortress rises up in each of them, a grand design with great halls and sweeping wings, a spark of inspiration that spreads like wildfire between them. He grins as she vanishes under the hall like a marmot delving into its burrow, just an attractive, sexy one...scratch the whole marmot idea. Still hoisting sheets over the freshly arranged chairs like a sailor trying to catch the breeze in a race, his efforts are immediately abandoned as he harkens her desperate call. "On it!" he yells, dramatically clambering over the east wing with an excessive leap. He dives for the pile of couch cushions, grabbing all that he can under his arms, in his hands, beneath his chin, and between his thighs.
Laden with integral structure amendments, he races waddles to the entrance and bellows, "INCOMING!" He drops them all and one by one hucks them in like pucks at her.
When it comes to jam jars, his grin widens into something bright and unashamed. "My jar savior," he swoons. "Although I bet any I can't open are just because you closed them so fucking tight for no reason." He glances over at her amid fiddling with some fabric, 'brows lifted accusingly. "Or didn't clean the rim off before putting the lid on," he mutters, which is practically begging to glue the jar shut. He wouldn't put it past her to actually glue them shut, now that he thinks about it.
The image of their cozy fortress rises up in each of them, a grand design with great halls and sweeping wings, a spark of inspiration that spreads like wildfire between them. He grins as she vanishes under the hall like a marmot delving into its burrow, just an attractive, sexy one...scratch the whole marmot idea. Still hoisting sheets over the freshly arranged chairs like a sailor trying to catch the breeze in a race, his efforts are immediately abandoned as he harkens her desperate call. "On it!" he yells, dramatically clambering over the east wing with an excessive leap. He dives for the pile of couch cushions, grabbing all that he can under his arms, in his hands, beneath his chin, and between his thighs.
Laden with integral structure amendments, he races waddles to the entrance and bellows, "INCOMING!" He drops them all and one by one hucks them in like pucks at her.
Kaisel
// Stop being so goddamn quiet //
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
