Can't touch me, like Gojo—Look good in all my photos
His admiration of the cranium cod is short-lived when her flying spaghetti monster is handed out to him with a restrained patience that sways and bobs on the end of each pipecleaner. He takes it without complaint, hooking the pasta strainer cap on with both hands and the airs of donning something extremely important and precious. This is no ordinary fashion statement afterall, this is a promise bundled up in metal and crafted stands of wire and fuzz. This is admitting to the hard things, to keep the softer things intact and protected. He'd wear anything to accomplish that, for her.
Arms cross against his chest like his own shield being erected, the anxious roar of blood behind his ears flaring up as they each settle. The stare the levels him with is not an easy one to endure, but he doesn't flinch from it, just leans into the wall with one shoulder in search of added support to withstand the blows. "I never meant to break your trust," he says simply, voice low with the earnestness of that, and of everything it's that which stings him most now. Guilt flickers in the edges of the frown that clips his mouth down, the spaghetti monster atop his head even more at odds now with its dangling merriment that sways with every meager head turn.
"I just knew I had to ask Astaroth so that my plans for you also didn't ruin things for them. I'd hate to have your moment steal from theirs or be stolen from. That was equally as important, and I don't really plan on keeping secrets from you so it didn't seem too wild that I'd know secrets told to you either." He gives the faintest shrug, not in dismissal of her trust, but in how easily what he knows becomes what she also knows. Not just because he's bad at keeping things in, but because he has no desire to keep something from her to start with. Even keeping surprises from her for her are at threat of being overturned at any moment. He couldn't even rein back his desire to propose to her for fuck's sake.
"And I really didn't think the manicure comment would tip Danta off, he sighs, frown deepening. "I just thought that he'd appreciate being ready for his ring when the time came, and it would have been way more telling coming from Astaroth." He supposes he could have left Flora to leave that tip for Danta, but in the moment it had been his attempt at an olive branch, and a quiet hope that the ring would soon seal up Danta's wandering eye. His jaw works over that particular memory, and now his lips press into a displeased line. "He hasn't made any moves on you since staying here, has he—Danta?" His gaze flicks down the hall as if he might find the ancient lurking in the corridor then and there. "You know we were talking about you when this all happened, and he shared that his happiest moment with you is when you were pegging him." Kaisel scoffs, the sound drug deep from his chest. "It doesn't feel great to hear that your friend's fondest memory of you is something sexual, or that he still would want to, Flora. If anything, I don't want to do anything to ruin their engagement. I'm hoping he'll fully commit to Astaroth with it."
Arms cross against his chest like his own shield being erected, the anxious roar of blood behind his ears flaring up as they each settle. The stare the levels him with is not an easy one to endure, but he doesn't flinch from it, just leans into the wall with one shoulder in search of added support to withstand the blows. "I never meant to break your trust," he says simply, voice low with the earnestness of that, and of everything it's that which stings him most now. Guilt flickers in the edges of the frown that clips his mouth down, the spaghetti monster atop his head even more at odds now with its dangling merriment that sways with every meager head turn.
"I just knew I had to ask Astaroth so that my plans for you also didn't ruin things for them. I'd hate to have your moment steal from theirs or be stolen from. That was equally as important, and I don't really plan on keeping secrets from you so it didn't seem too wild that I'd know secrets told to you either." He gives the faintest shrug, not in dismissal of her trust, but in how easily what he knows becomes what she also knows. Not just because he's bad at keeping things in, but because he has no desire to keep something from her to start with. Even keeping surprises from her for her are at threat of being overturned at any moment. He couldn't even rein back his desire to propose to her for fuck's sake.
"And I really didn't think the manicure comment would tip Danta off, he sighs, frown deepening. "I just thought that he'd appreciate being ready for his ring when the time came, and it would have been way more telling coming from Astaroth." He supposes he could have left Flora to leave that tip for Danta, but in the moment it had been his attempt at an olive branch, and a quiet hope that the ring would soon seal up Danta's wandering eye. His jaw works over that particular memory, and now his lips press into a displeased line. "He hasn't made any moves on you since staying here, has he—Danta?" His gaze flicks down the hall as if he might find the ancient lurking in the corridor then and there. "You know we were talking about you when this all happened, and he shared that his happiest moment with you is when you were pegging him." Kaisel scoffs, the sound drug deep from his chest. "It doesn't feel great to hear that your friend's fondest memory of you is something sexual, or that he still would want to, Flora. If anything, I don't want to do anything to ruin their engagement. I'm hoping he'll fully commit to Astaroth with it."
Kaisel
Sexy jutsu, I feel like Naruto—Fightin' demons in my head like I'm Itadori
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
