// I'd take the fall—I got you covered when there's no one at all //
Breathless with his newfound freedom he drinks in tickle-free air like there's been a drought of oxygen, chest heaving with the effort. Although it rarely matters if she's tickling him or not, she always steals the air right from his lungs. It happens every time he sees her, and no matter how often he looks it never grows easier, he's struck every time by her beauty. It happens when he rounds a corner in the house and finds her there, haloed in light or half lost to some small, unguarded moment. It’s the way she exists—the laughter that tumbles out of her, the effortless way she moves through life, spilling warmth into every corner she touches. He still isn’t used to it, sharing it all with her, that it's real, that she's his and he's hers and they can be breathless together forever still.
His head remains tilted, the world sideways and her gloriously slanted across the ground in his field of view. He has one of those moments now, looking at her spread in mud, hair disheveled with chaos and humidity alike but managing to look like it's on purpose still. She's rich with the sound of what they've built, devious and dramatic as ever, and gods he loves her and and his grin widens with the feel of it like he means to swallow the sun. He'd hold onto it longer, if he could, but he's got a mud dick to make.
"All's fair in mud and war pookie," he croons as he lifts himself up onto an arm, a helpful vine keeping it from sliding right back out from under him. "Yeah!" he confirms with a delighted press of his smile against his cheeks. "Like, a suuuuper massive one too, that way you can go by Big Dick Doubletake." Not waiting for her permission, he grabs a fistful of mud and lurches over towards her on his knees, one hand barring overtop her stomach while the other moves to sculpt a masterpiece. With him back vertical, his chest work begins to sag, reaching grandma status in a blink.
His head remains tilted, the world sideways and her gloriously slanted across the ground in his field of view. He has one of those moments now, looking at her spread in mud, hair disheveled with chaos and humidity alike but managing to look like it's on purpose still. She's rich with the sound of what they've built, devious and dramatic as ever, and gods he loves her and and his grin widens with the feel of it like he means to swallow the sun. He'd hold onto it longer, if he could, but he's got a mud dick to make.
"All's fair in mud and war pookie," he croons as he lifts himself up onto an arm, a helpful vine keeping it from sliding right back out from under him. "Yeah!" he confirms with a delighted press of his smile against his cheeks. "Like, a suuuuper massive one too, that way you can go by Big Dick Doubletake." Not waiting for her permission, he grabs a fistful of mud and lurches over towards her on his knees, one hand barring overtop her stomach while the other moves to sculpt a masterpiece. With him back vertical, his chest work begins to sag, reaching grandma status in a blink.
Kaisel
// When you need somebody to turn to—Nobody got you the way I do //
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
