#if the show won’t be funny about Fiona’s weird thing going with Simon then what’s the point?

[lemonsandwisdom]

This girls love life is just a long list of L’s. So why not give her one more.

[chaos-is--asexual]

SnowBaz One Shots

I found me a hopeless case, and resolve to love

“You’re hopeless, you know,” Baz said to Simon, trying to suppress his grin as Simon, who’s sitting all the way across the table, managed to get cherry jam all over his cheeks. “Just because you have wings doesn’t mean you have to act like an animal, Snow.”

Simon shoots him an incredulous look. “Hey, you know what, I’m trying my best here. It's not easy to adapt to cherry filled scones. Wings are nothing compared to the drastic life change I’m working with here.” Simon then proves his point by licking the jam that leaked down his arm. Baz looks away with disgust.

“And besides, Baz, you’re just worried I’ll get jam on your shirt.” Simon gestures to the green Watford Football shirt. (It's a little big on him, but Simon would never admit it, good thing Baz doesn’t let him forget.)

Baz stands up, grabs Simon’s shirt and pulls his sticky face up towards his own. “So very worried,” he whispers, barely an inch from Simon’s face. “You’re such a mess, Simon Snow.” He kisses Simon. He tastes like cherries.

———————————————————————————————————

All dressed in my Sunday best

“Remind me why we’re going to church?”

“Because its Easter, Snow, that’s what you do,” Baz responded from the bathroom where he was getting ready. He and Simon were heading to Oxford to celebrate the holiday with his family. Baz knew he couldn’t miss a chance to see his younger siblings get all excited about the Easter bunny and all. They were too old to believe in it, of course, but who wasn’t generally thrilled about the idea of waking up to candy.

“I just can’t believe I have to wear a freaking tie,” Simon continued, “and then, like a jacket on top of that. Jesus its Easter but is a suit really necessary?” Simon agonized in front of the mirror, fiddling with his tie that refused to tie. “Fuck I can’t get this.” He ripped the navy and white striped tie over his bronze locks. “Screw it Baz,” he yelled, “I’m done with this!”

At that moment, Baz emerged from the bathroom, clad in a blue shirt adorned with red floral blossoms, and a blue jacket with black lapels, his raven hair slicked back, straight from the set of Grease, or one of those old black-and-white vampire films. “It's not proper to curse on Easter, Snow.” He walked over to the dresser and put on the watch Fiona gave him for his seventeenth birthday.

“Holy hell, Baz. You look like a pop star.”

Baz smirks out of the corner of his mouth. “Who’s kidding who, we both know I’m far more handsome than a regular pop star.” He shoots Simon a wink. “Now let's see about that tie of yours.”

———————————————————————————————————

We can have a dog and all the rest, we can live it up

“I don’t like dogs.”

“That’s such a lie. You love Lucy.”

“No I don’t, Agatha’s dog has a weird twitchy eye. And I thoroughly dislike that show, it's so outdated.” Baz snickers to himself, clearly proud of the fact that he made that joke.

Simon slings his arm around Baz’s neck, not amused by Baz’s quip. “Ha ha, very funny, says the guy who spent four hours watching reruns of The Honeymooners, not 24 hours ago.” Baz opens his mouth to retort that comment but quickly closes it, realizing he doesn’t quite have a leg to stand on in that argument.

Baz and Simon walk down a busy street in London, wandering aimlessly, as they usually do on lovely Sunday afternoons. Simon still has his arm around Baz as he’s on his phone, googling the closest animal shelter. Baz is playing the dutiful role of shoulder-to-lean-on and has his hands tucked into his pockets, eyes hidden by reflective sunglasses and making sure that Simon doesn’t accidentally walk into any trashcans or oncoming pedestrians.

“We have to get a dog, Baz. I was never able to have a dog in any of my homes, it would literally be a dream come true. You can make my dream come true, Baz, think of the power in your hands.” The longing and wholesome desire in his voice so evident, his bright blue eyes positively reeking with innocence.

Without thinking, Baz spat out, a slight twinge of fear in his voice, “Its what married people do, Simon; They get dogs.” He didn’t realize what he said when he said it, but Baz saw Simon deflate. It's not like marriage was an abstract possibility for them, they have been dating for three years now. But just that idea, the feeling of being contractually tied down to another person was too much for them at the moment. That being said, they were pretty tied to each other now, minus the written statement.

Simon turns to Baz, the two of them stopping on a busy sidewalk. From the way that Simon placed his hand on the back of Baz’s neck, Baz could tell that whatever Simon was about to say was going to be serious. (A rarity for Simon.)

“Yes that’s what married people do, and I’m not going to stand here and pretend like that’s not in the cards for us, and I won’t let you do that, either. I love you, and you love me, and we don’t need to get married now or in the next 100 years, just be with me, ‘kay? How about we just enjoy the ride.” Simon pulled Baz down to meet his lips and kissed him, a kiss that conveyed all the love that was coursing through Simon’s veins; it was a bear hug of a kiss.

“I love you too, Simon.” Baz was blushing slightly, and a smile was hidden in the corner of his mouth. Simon beamed, and it was like the sun was shining down on his face. His own personal rainbow. They grabbed each other’s hand, fingers intertwining, and continue walking down the street.

“So, Baz, there’s a shelter three blocks from here, in case you’re interested.”

“I suppose that might be worth looking into, Simon.”