#fluff off

[mishapeep]

Please enjoy, on this Tuesday, my most grumpy muppet.

[shirozen]

Get the fluff off

[smashpages]

Gert returns for more mayhem in a new ‘I Hate Fairyland’ series

Skottie Young and Brett Bean chronicle the adventures of an adult Gert who has returned to the real world.

[hotcocoandmarshmallows]

Fluff Contest: Story B

Hot Chocolate

Spot loved hot chocolate. That was the first thing Jack knew about him, he loved hot chocolate. The second thing was that Starbucks, in Spot’s opinion, was the inferior brand and he only drank homemade or Dunkin Doughnuts hot chocolate.

The third thing Jack learned about Spot was that he dissed Starbucks in favor of Dunkin Doughnuts to the point they argued about it whenever they saw one another.

The fourth thing he learned was that he found Spot cute. Very cute. And he liked Spot’s personality.

Jack had found it fitting that he asked Spot out by scribbling the message onto his cup. Spot had read it, looked up at Jack in a ‘siriously?’ way and then said yes. Which Jack appreciated.

Now there he was, after 5 years of dating. They’d had their ups and downs but had made it through it all and along the line, Jack decided that he didn’t want to lose Spot. Ever.

He wanted to marry Spot.

And he knew the perfect way to propose. Write it on Spot’s favorite hot chocolate mug. In non-permanent marker of course.

Jack carried the ring in his pocket for days. Funnily enough, it was while Jack was at work that he got a text.

‘This better not be permanent marker.’ -Spotty <3

‘But yes, if the marker comes off my mug.’ -Spotty <3

Spot said yes in person later, after he’d scrubbed the marker off his mug.

Send votes to me or @brooklyn-noozies!

[shirozen]

Roll lint away

[hotcocoandmarshmallows]

Fluff Off

@brooklyn-noozies and I are having a fluff off, message them if you wantto judge!

Fluff off will be held after 3:30 EST and will be Spot/Jack

[shit-wcue-players-say]

[ven-archived]

N is for Night

My belated entry for N, as part of the fluff-off to balance out the delightful angst written by @listentotheshityousay and @coffeeinallcaps. Enjoy!

“You know,” Harry sniffs, nose only slightly upturned - but slightly is damning enough, when it comes from Harry Hart - “at least New York has some modicum of class. Most of the city, anyways. This is just- “

“Oh, come off it,” Eggsy laughs, looping his arm through Harry’s. It takes barely a moment of tugging to get Harry to start walking, the hollow sounds of their footfalls against the wood joining the clattering of thousands of other pedestrians walking up and down the boardwalk. “It’s not supposed to be like anywhere else in the world, Harry. It’s a boardwalk!”

Harry doesn’t quite roll his eyes, but it’s a near thing. The sun has long since set, so his glasses have clear lenses once again - and Eggsy can see that despite his tone, the corner of Harry’s eyes are crinkling with amusement. “Well, it’s no Fifth Avenue-”

“Boardwalk,” Eggsy says again, gesturing to the brightly-lit chaos around them, as loud with color as it is with noise: piers jut out over the ocean, swarming with people waiting to ride the towering roller coasters, merry-go-rounds, the ferris wheel or the haunted ship. Food stalls and shops crammed with all sorts of tourist-trap knickknacks line the main boulevard, the smell of cooking caramel corn wafting in the air and mixing with the scents of chocolate fudge, chips fresh from the fryer, oven-cooked pizza. People pour in and out of the shops, traffic has to divert around a particularly long line for orange-vanilla ice cream twists, and there’s an echo of delighted screaming every few minutes as the roller coaster starts up again.

It’s not heaven, and it’s definitely not Harry’s first choice of venue, but Eggsy loves it.

And it’s where their mark happens to be; they can’t very well trail him anywhere else.

“Try to enjoy it, eh?” Eggsy pats Harry’s forearm, walking arm-in-arm towards the stunning cluster of lights that is the ferris wheel. The second-in-command of the gun smuggling ring is in the middle of a throng of his gangster friends, laughing and tossing popcorn in each other’s hair; the rowdy group is easy enough to follow from a distance. “They ain’t getting anywhere without us noticing, what with the ruckus they’re making.”

“I suppose,” Harry eyes the cheerful awning of an ice cream stand as they pass. “I’ll let you know by the end of the evening if we’ve been able to successfully prove that there is a lethal amount of fun that one can have.”

“Now you sound like Merlin,” he laughs, bumping Harry’s shoulder. “C’mon, there’s got to be something that will put you in better spirits.”

“Being here will certainly put me in some kind of spirits. They certainly seem to sell enough beer.”

Eggsy’s grin grows, turns into a smirk. “If you’re lucky,” he lowers his voice, “that’s not all you’ll get put in tonight.”

It must say something about their relationship that Harry barely pulls back to look him in the eye, merely shakes his head. But the grimace on his face has lightened, shifted into a smile. “That was awful.”

“Got you to smile, didn’t it?”

“Incorrigible,” Harry sighs, but he lets Eggsy pull him closer, their arms pressed together shoulder to elbow. “But perhaps I could be persuaded to participate in a wager.”

“We don’t need to wager over my arse for you to have it,” Eggsy laughs. If he wasn’t comfortable hanging onto Harry’s arm, he’d let Harry feel him up - the crowd’s so thick no one would notice.

Harry’s lips have twitched into his usual smirk when he looks at Eggsy out of the corner of his eye, and Eggsy’s breath catches in his chest. Lit by the multicolored neon and hair starting to curl in the summer night’s humidity, Harry is a vision in coy handsomeness.

“Isn’t it more fun if we have a gamble? You were the one who wanted to have some fun,” Harry’s eyes gleam with sly humor, and Eggsy has to swallow down his instinctive reaction. Not everything is legal in New Jersey, after all. 

“I’m not sure our versions of fun are going to align,” Eggsy replies, but even his own voice sounds a little hoarse to his ears.

“No?” Harry grins. “Mark my words, darling, you’re going to want to know what fun I think we can get up to before midnight.”

“You’re on,” Eggsy smirks back, and clenches his fingers a little tighter around Harry’s arm.