#flcshfly

[angie-long-legs]

All he's consumed today is leftover pizza, an iced coffee, and the Shaq-a-licious gummies that Floyd got him for Christmas.

@flcshfly

[mechanicoyote]

🍸

Send 🍸 for what drink or cocktail reminds my muse of yours-ACCEPTING!

“Pink squirrel.” The coyote says, the answer coming easily, as though he didn’t have to think too hard about it.

“And before ya ask, no-it has nothin’ to do with ya pink fuzz.”

[copaceticjillybean]

"I love, uh... you— your eyes. Ya have pretty eyes. Screw this."

Send “You have pretty eyes” for my muses reaction-ACCEPTING!

Jillian feels the way her heart briefly stops, upon what she first thinks Floyd is trying to say. Though it calms down upon realizing what he actually ended up saying. For a brief moment, disappointment can be seen in the fox's eyes. But just as quickly, it shifts to understanding, and an affectionate smile crossed her lips as she presses her head to Floyd's chest, nuzzling against his neck. "Thank ya, doll. Ya got pretty eyes too." she replied, kissing the fly's cheek as she wraps her tail around his waist in affectionate possessiveness, the white tip flicking against his hip.

[opportunistic-chicanery]

"I'm feeling very insecure about my distinct lack of chin."

“You’re only human.” Hacker shrugged smugly. Although either were in the literal sense, the sentiment was broad true.

“Still, you have a certain…” He failed to grasp an adjective. “… something to your face. I’m sure we can work with it.”

[angie-long-legs]

"Now, listen, Ange," Floyd said, and pointed toward the cured meats that lined the deli fridge. The butcher was (rather impatiently) waiting for their order. "Since this is ya first time pickin' gabagool all on ya lonesome, here's my secret ta gettin' the best slice. It's one of those limerick things, goes like this: 'Thick and chewy, go kablooey. Thin and tender, now that's splendor.' Ya think ya can remember that?"

"Go kablooey...?"

Angel couldn't take this man anywhere.

"Are you pullin' my leg? Nobody but you has eva' even thought those words before!" the spider exclaimed in exasperation. "An' I don't need no nursery rhyme ta know how I like my gabagool."

Angel turned to the frustrated-looking butcher and flicked his wrist as he pointed at the capocollo. "I'll take a quarter pound a' the gabagool, an' I want it sliced real thin, capisce? If I can't see through it, I don't want it."

With a sunny, triumphant grin, Angel turned back to Floyd, as if he had just done something worth celebrating. "See? You're always underestimatin' me. If there's one thing I know, it's deli meats."

[copaceticjillybean]

🎄🎁

@flcshfly sent 🎄🎁 for something from Jillian!

"Ouch! Honey, ya gotta stop squirmin' around! He won' be surprised is he hears ya makin' all this ruckus!" Jillian is trying her best to hide something, though the sounds of high pitched buzzing and little alien were making that goal more than a little difficult. "Almost...got it...SHIT!" The sound of the door to her apartment opening could be heard. And as soon as the door closed behind him yet before Floyd would get a chance to do anything to stop it, he'd quickly be bowled into and sent falling onto his back. His attacker? A flydog puppy, who was currently sniffing Floyd's face, proboscis flicking out to leave small, investigative licks to the insectoid sinner's face. A pale purple collar was around the little animal's throat, with a small golden tag that read 'MALBORO.' "Boro, you get back here right-OH!" Jillian rushed out, looking at Floyd on the floor for a moment. Shock was on her face for a moment, followed by a defeated look as she sighed. "Well...guess we'll do this early." she said, laughing softly as she walked over to held Floyd to his feet. Marlboro's weak little wings buzzed, as he tried to fly upward to get closer to the latest person he'd met in his short life. "Floyd...meet Marlboro." Jillian said, turning to offer her boyfriend a soft little grin. "He's ya Christmas gift."

[angie-long-legs]

"You're smokin' four cigarettes in that picture, but I'M the junkie? Greedy ass bitch."

"Least it don't sound like I'm gonna pop a lung every time climb a flight a' stairs. Yer like a walkin' anti-smokin' campaign."

[angie-long-legs]

"If I had ta guess, that guy's job is construction worker or some shit."

ref. to this

"Eh... I guess? I dunno. I wouldn't let the fucka' drill inta me."