#flcshfly

[angie-long-legs]

BOO WOO WOO ROOO ROOOOOO WOOF *sneeze* *cough*

Angel scooped Fat Nuggets up into his arms with a gasp.

"Nuggs, baby, don't touch it! It's probably got rabies!"

[alteregozowie]

Superfly

@flcshfly

Alastor had always held a certain personal contempt for those who made their gain exploiting sex, the themes he noticed the most were sleeze and maltreatment. Not that the entertainment buisness itself was innocent, Alastor had been through his fair share of those handsy opportunists, both in life and afterlife. Luckily for him, he did something about it, before it ever got passed the first base. And even luckier that he was the Radio Demon in Hell because he could tear off those same hands if they tried. And it was very satisfying.

It wasn't that what he did held any higher morality, but after years of seeing how far abuse could be taken firsthand, he held on to that strong distaste. Especially when it came to women. It was hard to watch.

Angel Dust was a victim of it, and while he had never seen it first hand, Alastor knew the bruises, knew the way Angel would walk back into the Hotel, he truly despised it. Not that he cared about Angel or what he was roped into, it was the principal of the thing.

So when this off putting, sleezeball of a fly joined the Hotel, Alastor tried to avoid him at first. That is, until Charlie started to take notice, which meant that he wasn't very subtle about it. After what seemed like a lengthy talking to about 'everyone deserves redemption' or whatever nonsense she was telling him, he conceded, if only to satisfy her.

Roped into one of her 'trust exercises', he stood near the Sinner, the smiling, menacing figure he was, looking down at him. "I don't care for your type of profession, you know," while everyone was distracted of course. "Unlike Charlie, I don't think everyone can be redeemed.....or deserve to be."

[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]

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

@flcshfly

[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."