#three scoops

FIC 1, which I'm calling Simon Out Loud (this is the rewriting the "not a date" scene from canon where Simon watches Baz read books he stole from the library. It's not very original, which I think is kind of the fun of it--more of a revision of a couple scenes from canon. Is this still worth publishing/reading? You tell me.) (no really please tell me):

The first few places we checked in Covent Garden looked promising, by which I mean full of dead-eyed people who seemed too interested in looking Baz up and down, but I think they were just Normal clubs.  At one of them, with rainbow flags lining the wall, we actually got swept up on the dance floor before we could make sure it wasn’t the right place. Vampires can be gay too, you know.  I thought I was going to lose Baz in the crowd, so I grabbed his hand again and he must have felt the same way because he didn’t shake me off.

FIC 2, which I'm calling Three Scoops (you should never take me seriously, you must know this by now):

Suddenly, Simon’s whole demeanor changes. Normally, he’s very Golden Retriever. I mean literally–he’s all big eyes and golden and curly-headed. Maybe more like a golden doodle. (I love dogs!) But right now he’s more like one of those pointing dogs that’s spotted a duck or something. Ramrod straight and at attention. It’s at odds with his surfer-dude vibes—I think he literally surfs in his free time, based on some comments he made and his muscles and the freckles. I had been about to ask him if he was dating anyone, and then work my way around to if his friend Penny was dating anyone—she was in the shop when I interviewed and in that five minutes I learned she’s super smart and a little terrifying and also completely adorable. (I don’t think I should tell her that last one.) (Yet.)  But now Simon’s on alert and definitely not paying enough attention for me to be able to dig for answers. “What is it?” I say.  “Customers,” he says grimly.

FIC 3, and let's just call this one MBFMW:

"Um, hello?" he says to me. “Blue,” I say dreamily. “Blue?” he asks, confused. I clear my throat. “I mean, do you need help?” He smiles at me and goddammit, he’s got a dimple. I definitely must have cast a spell. Or someone did. “Probably,” he says, smiling at me on the floor. “But I feel like I should be asking you that.”

Have you opened and then closed any word docs recently that you want to mention? It's not too late!

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