#m. sweetlybite

[decayedhearts]

@sweetlybite​ sent: For Ace - fmk Riddle, Vil, Lilia

Fuck, Marry, Kill. Send me three names.

   “That’s easy! Kill Riddle! Off with his head! Marry Vil, for sure! That guy must be loaded. And..” There’s a bit of a change in color on his cheeks before he answers that final one. “..fuck Lilia, I guess.”

[decayedhearts]

@sweetlybite sent: "Say 'ah'." Cupping Ace's jaw with a hand, give the other boy time to react before easing a spoonful of dark red cherry compote and whipped cream into Ace's mouth.

The normally firm fruit had been slowly cooked down into a tangy, tender dessert that was still pleasantly warm; letting it fill up the consumer's senses with just enough sweetness from the whipped cream that the tartness of the cherries wasn't uncomfortable.

Floyd gently pulled the spoon away, studying Ace's reaction to the treat.

"Whatcha think? Better than chocolate, isn't it?"

Under different circumstances Ace might have been more suspicious of Floyd telling him to open his mouth and try some unidentified substance, but as it is he's been smelling the tantalizing sweet fruity scent of whatever it is Floyd cooked for almost an hour now, so his hope that it is something delicious is far greater than his fear of being pranked. His lips part almost without any hesitation and close again around the spoon instinctively.

The sweet mixture has barely touched his tongue as his entire face lights up, his shoulders rising a little as if he's about to float out of his chair. "Ohm my gob!" Ace brings out through a full mouth, reluctant to swallow and lose the taste too soon. It's like an explosion of amazing flavors in his mouth - sweet, sour, creamy, tangy, delicious. The thought feels blasphemous but this is possibly better even than cherry pie, something Ace thought wholly impossible.

Almost jumping out of his chair, hands flat on the counter to push himself up a little, Ace leans over to catch a glimpse of the pot in front of Floyd. "Is there more of that??"

[decayedhearts]

@sweetlybite sent: "3, 2, 1..." (From Ace or a muse of your choosing)

[Send 3, 2, 1... for a New Year's Kiss from my muse | selectively accepting]

Ace loves the atmosphere just before midnight. The excitement and anticipation in the air, the sense of insouciance, the feeling that everything matters more than before and at the same time not at all because in just a few minutes everyone gets a blank new page to write on. This year all those feelings are amplified by the fact that he experiences them several meters high up in the air; high enough to make him a little woozy. The air is even colder up here, but he's wrapped up nicely in his jacket and beanie, and there's a comfortable warmth spreading from Floyd's body to his own where their bodies touch.

He's seated on Floyd's broomstick, facing him, his legs dangling over the other's hips so he can be as close to him as possible. If he stopped a moment to think about it he'd realize how risky it is to sit in this position while floating in this height, but Ace is not exactly famous for considering consequences before they happen.

He feels good and giddy - a mood reflected in the big smile on his face. Below them the crowd begins to chant the countdown to midnight and Ace brings his arms up to wrap them around Floyd's neck. He never expected to do something like this with Floyd Leech of all people, but now that they're here he can't imagine himself with anyone else. Maybe in the new year he'll actually have the guts to ask if this means as much to Floyd as it does to him.

"3.. 2.." he chimes in at the last moment - and then his lips are pressed against Floyd's and all sound is swallowed by their kiss as the world around them explodes in bangs and colors. Ace's heart makes several jumps, beating so hard he's sure Floyd can feel it against his own chest. They're so much closer to the fireworks than they would be if they'd waited down there with the others, and for a moment it feels like they exist only for them.

Quickly the air fills with the smell of burning things and smoke but Ace associates only happy memories with it. He breaks the kiss after a moment and looks around, eyes wide as they take in the sea of colors and sparks. He turns back to Floyd, smiling even brighter than before as he watches the colors reflected on Floyd's skin.

"Happy New Year," he calls, raising his voice enough so Floyd can hear him over the sound of he fireworks all around them.

[decayedhearts]

@sweetlybite​ sent: For Trey - fmk Sebek, Azul, Kalim

Fuck, Marry, Kill. Send me three names.  

   “My, that’s an odd bunch to choose from.. let me see.” He actually takes a moment to think about it. “I would have said marry Azul, but I don’t trust him with any kind of contract, so I’ll say fuck Azul. Marry Kalim, because he clearly needs someone to take care of him, and he’s faithful and kind. And.. kill Sebek. Out of these three he seems the most prepared to lay down his life.”

[decayedhearts]

@sweetlybite​​ sent: Dare~ Try and bite me hard as you can, Crab. (Floyd to Ace)

Truth or Dare Meme

That sound like a trap if he’s ever heard of one. Why else would Floyd ask him to do something that hurts, if not because he’s already plotting his painful revenge? And yet refusing isn’t really an option either. After all, it was Ace who suggested the game in the first place, so chickening out now would just make him look like a coward.

He worries his lip and regards Floyd’s arm - because the arm seems to be the safest choice. For one, because it’s a more expendable part of the body and two, if Floyd decides to exact his revenge right then and there, at least he’ll only have one arm to do so.      “Man, what kind of dare is that?” Ace asks as he curls his fingers around Floyd’s wrist and decisively pulls his lower arm closer to his mouth. “Are you a masochist or something?” As soon as he feels the warm skin against his lips his confidence once again falters.

“Just-” he starts, looking up at Floyd. “Remember you dared me to do this okay? Don’t like.. get mad, or something.” Oh, he will be mad. This is a mistake, Ace thinks as his teeth sink into Floyd’ arm and he bites down - hard enough it’ll definitely hurt, but not hard enough to draw any blood. Floyd may have asked him to do it as hard as he can, but he’s not that stupid.

[decayedhearts]

@sweetlybite​ sent:  "how'd ya get this?" Long fingers curl around Ace's wrist, lifting his arm up so Floyd can peer at a bruise he'd glimpsed during practice. He gives the spot a little prod, hardly putting any strength into it, merely curious how deep it goes or if it's as tender as it looks. "Sharksucker make ya fall down the stairs or something?"

Floyd’s sudden poke at the bruise is more surprising than painful but the unexpectedness of it makes Ace cry out. “Ouch! Let go!” he whines, trying to pull his arm out of the eel’s grip.

A small frown appears on his face when he looks at the dark shading on his skin, like he’s seeing it for the first time as well. “Nah, I tripped,” he says after a moment. “One of our hedgehogs escaped again and I searched the whole place to find him; tripped over a root or something. Tore a hole into my jacket too,” Ace laments. The bruise looked significantly less gruesome last night - but that’s not an unusual development for bruises. When he was younger Ace quite enjoyed the wide range of colors his skin would display for a few days after he injured himself while playing.      “Doesn’t really hurt though.. except when you touch it!”

[decayedhearts]

🐭

How intimidating am I?

I'll tell you the cause of that slightly; it's the kinks we haven't discussed yet. Once that's out of the way, there will be no shred of intimidation left.