"Aye Lovie"
"Yeah, si?"
"When does a joke become a dad joke?"
Jesus christ, this man.
"I dunno, when?"
"When it leaves and never comes back."
Your jaw dropped and slowly turned into a smile before you playfully hit his shoulder, his chuckles loud as he moved his arm and pretended to be hurt by it.
Silly moments like this were ones you looked forward to.
and so did he.
SERJ FROM TODAY
Can someone pls give me a lost of more cod angst or fluff IM SO SO SO SO TIRED OF SMUT ON MY FEED
Quick&sweet - full 2pg on ⁋atreon
hiii are you talking about this?
https://www.tumblr.com/kittykattropicanna/738416230009061376/prisonpenpalsimon-masterlist-3
HELLO, YES THANK U ANOOOOOOON UR THE BEST
does anybody know the fic where its an alternate universe where simon went to jail and became ur penpal I LOST THE FIC PLS HELP A GIRL OUT
Simon looks like his father, the only thing he got from his mother was his lighter hair. He doesn't dwell on his looks, he has other things to worry about, but sometimes it bubbles up.
The bastard is dead, the features Simon carries belong to him, not his father. But he still thinks about it sometimes, catches himself in the mirror and pauses for a split second. His cheeks are fuller than his father's were, but he's got that same crooked nose and dark eyes he can never quite meet when he looks at himself.
He wouldn't say he's insecure. he knows he isn't ugly, there's just something unnerving about meeting his father's eyes in his own reflection. It's even worse after a long, bad mission, when he's lost weight and looks like shit. Catching his reflection sends a chill down his neck, and the mirrors in his home end up with a towel over them til he's stable.
photo credit @ave661 middle pic Not edited at all!! ---- F!Reader, angst? idk, cheating ---- A/N: honestly, don't even ask me what this is, I felt the need to write this very late at night...so I'm sorry
"I love you." Oh, what a miserable way to begin the end of this love story. How did it end? How did his smiles, kisses and most importantly those eyes that shined when they looked at you end? Why must love be this evil? Soon, after this funeral you and he will walk away and be strangers once more.
One more glance, maybe one that explains why he fell out of love. Maybe it is a hopeful word for a fool like you. If only love was a joke, at least one you understood but it isn't and now you're dying in a room whilst the walls scream at your foolish heart. Can you pretend he never existed? Can you call him and have him there as he holds your lifeless heart? This book that you made wasn't one for the weak. This book was made for those who needed a reminder that they needed to leave. Was it toxic to have him love you that much and then rip it away from you just before you told him the dreams you wanted to have with him? Was it evil that you had already planned a life with him? or was it vile to have you this in love with the idea of a man who couldn't love you like you wanted?
There will be a day when he fades but today isn't that day for he tattooed his name on your heart for the next millennia to see…to whisper about when they hear the chapel weep for a love that it never got to seal. Oh, what a cruel man must Simon but to have you in bed, to kiss your body like there was no other woman for him. Wise men do say death is best when it isn't by the hand of the lover. If only he warned you about him.
His smile will forever be engraved in you just like his lips will be left with scars that once were butterflies on you. "I'm not a good man, love," he once told you and oh what a fool were you when you didn't listen. Did the weeping willow tree not warn you? "You're in terrible danger." it once said but you brushed it off.
His things are still there, his jacket on the chair like the night he came home and hugged you. Did you know it'd end with you waiting for him to come home again? He was here to destroy you and what a job he did.
Maybe someday, in an alternate universe, he hadn't left you for her. Maybe he would have stayed and completed the dreams you once had. And just perhaps you'd be religious to thank whatever is out there for him.
Tonight you curse whatever is out there.
He was never to keep, maybe he should told you that.
Does he love her like he did you? Maybe he kisses her shoulder but does he move the furniture so he can dance with her in the middle of a drunken midnight? Midnight…hm..what a time to be dead and buried with his memories on your headstone.
He was yours.
He was meant to be yours.
Will you one day confess you left the front porch light on in case he needed a guide back home?
"Forgive me, I have sinned. I committed murder, not literal murder but of my own heart," you whisper to the altar you never got to say your vows to. And maybe she'll hear his vows but you swear yours are sweeter than hers.
As the midnight falls, you aimlessly walk to the haunted chapel. The rain pours as you look at the windy sky. You sigh and maybe that should've been your last one for what is life if not with him.
You don't need much, just need him. Maybe you can sacrifice anything…for the love of all hell… sacrifice anything to get him back.
As you sit on the stairs of the chapel, you look dishevelled. There is a ring on your hand. The one he gave you one Christmas when you mentioned you liked the design of one. What a cruel idea that must've been. Your thumb runs over the designs and tears cascade down your face but it's oh so beautifully covered by the rain. "I love you, Simon. I…I fucking love you and it's killing me." you say before you break down in sobs. There's this feeling, the feeling when you cry too much your chest begs you to stop, where your head aches and your face begs to stop this pain.
You hold onto yourself, maybe this way you'll heal some of the love he took with him but it won't until you have him there.
Is it idiotic to want him back? Yes, but damn does it feel good to want him. So what if he broke your heart? Maybe no one understands this feeling. Maybe the poets were right.
You must let him go, it is killing this aching and weak heart of yours.
You do just that. The ring is left on the steps of the chapel and walk away. What an awful way to mourn the loss of his love. The rain will cover your tracks and maybe you can disappear for a little while.
Once you disappear, there is a shadow man who also mindlessly walks to the steps of the chapel. He sits down on the same steps you did. In his heart, there is a funeral that is happening. He lost something…someone. This man is bitter. There is a sour taste he leaves wherever he goes. Does he know the sour taste he left in you?
There is a story that goes around about him and you know it better than those that tell the story.
As he sits there, he looks at his hands. Did he kill his lover? Not physically…well…yes and now but he killed her heart. He is the doctor that collects hearts and he has yours in a golden jar.
As he looks down, he finds the ring he gifted you. As his eyes wander around the area, you are never to be found at least not anymore and maybe he will find you in his dreams. That's the last place you haunt with that ever-lovely smile he oh so adores.
Those who love are fools struck by Cupid.
He holds the ring and lets his thumb run through the designs he will never craft for another lover. He hums and shuts his eyes. If angels were real, they'd pity him and put him out of his misery.
There was a film about this kind of love out there and maybe you two are fools recreating it but adding real emotions into the mix.
"I love you, even if you'll be the end of me," he whispers as he sighs and lets the tears fall.
The end is here…and it wants to sweep you away but Simon clings to you. Was there another woman? No, he lied and it was a damn good lie so he'd let you live the life he can never give you. He is a bump, a major one at that, in your life and maybe one day, you'll forgive him when you sit down with the actual man of your dreams.
Love, what a stupid word.
A/N: not tagging anyone because I don't even know what this is anymore
Tired of washboard abs propaganda. We must post more tummy.