Me: I don't like hands I don't like hands II don't like hands I don't like handsI don't like hands I don't like hands I don't like hands I don't like hands I don't like hands I don't like hands I don't like hands I don't like hands I don't like hands I don't like hands don't like-
ElMariana: *exists*
Me: FU-
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wait holy shit. the chestplate is an amongus
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| Baby Face | Chapter 25 | Read it HERE on Ao3 | 💖
Word Count: 5,861
Chapter Excerpt ~
———
Watery amber eyes glared up at the numbers glowing back at him from the sign looking over the bus stop. He would have to wait thirty minutes for the next bus to come. Thirty minutes of sitting on that stupid bench, as his head ached, and face smarted from Sans’s strikes. Thirty minutes to wallow in his own self pity like the bitch he felt like he was.
“Stupid. He's so stupid,” he whimpered under his breath as he sat up on the bench and hugged his lanky legs up to his chest. Bitter anger festered in his burning soul as he blinked hard to stifle the wave of tears leaking from his eyes.
There's no way they would want him around anymore. He'd started the fight, after all, even if Sans had been the nails on his own personal chalkboard for the past month or so. And who’s fault is that? He gave a sharp jerk of his head at the invasive thought.
He tried to turn the wave of regret and guilt into burning rage, which was much easier to handle. Rage; a constant reminder why this was for the best and why he hated Sans and why he didn’t need them. How he was always the butt of their jokes, how his songs were always too horny for Nick – well fuck that! Why did they always have to make angry political songs? What was wrong with a cheeky song here and there to lighten the mood? They were fun! He was just trying to have fun!
No, he didn’t need them. He didn’t need their late night gallavants through the city, he didn’t need Sans’s corny jokes or Nick’s long rants about the CIA, and he didn’t want to crawl through dumpsters with Midas or have his old jeans patched up by Max whenever he took a particularly rough tumble off his skateboard. He especially didn’t need that weird glow of pride he got when Sans laughed at one of his jokes or told him one of his ideas were good. He didn’t need to feel safe, he didn’t need their love or their brotherhood.
He sniffed and roughly wiped his face. Why was he crying? He didn’t want to cry! God I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid! Why did I do this!? As his thoughts continued to spiral, his tears continued to fall, and the angrier he got because now all he could think about was what came next. No more band rehearsals. No more laughing at stupid your mom jokes or trips to Waffle House to share a stack of pancakes after smoking a blunt. He’d be alone…
Jonas was too weird and grungy to fit in with the other werewolves so he couldn’t go crawling to them without being turned into a bullied scapegoat… Fuck. Fuck! What was he going to do now? Was it too late to turn back? No he couldn’t go crawling back to them, not now… Not now…
“Stop it. Stop,” he croaked. When the fuck is the bus going to come!? He checked the clock again and seethed. He still had another grueling twenty minutes to slog through. I should just skate home. But he wasn’t anywhere close to his house, and it was already so late. He knew if he was out this late… he shuddered as he imagined a police officer flashing his lights and arresting him or worse… Shit.
His ears pressed back against his head and he checked the clock again. In the slight reflection of the metal he noticed a glint of red. He froze up, his hackles raising, breath hitching in his throat. Jonas gritted his teeth and looked down at the speckled, cracked sidewalk, planting his feet harder on the pavement in an attempt to keep himself grounded. I bet you're here so you can look like the hero.
A low growl rumbled through him as the footsteps drew closer. A deep sigh. Jonas didn’t want to acknowledge him. Did Nick force you to do this? God.
There was a rustle and creak of the bench as Sans leaned back and sat with him. No doubt collecting his thoughts.
He felt so stupid. He’d run away and now Sans had come after him to make him feel even worse. Offer some vague apology to appease Nick. Well I tried, he would tell him. And Sans would be fine. He’d be fine. Nick would never cast him out. Max and Midas would choose him too. Sans was the guy. And Jonas was just Jonas. Stupid, goofy, never takes anything serious Jonas. They’d turn him into their little villain. Sigh and shake their heads. How unfortunate. But ultimately they’d say we’re better off anyway. And that would be the end of it, and he’d be alone and they’d be fine.
.
.
.
Me rn after finishing this chapter
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I return with more hugs!
Also here to say that Silver, you are incredible. You are an amazing friend, and I cannnot thank you enough for all of the support and encouragement you have given me. You write some of the most incredible fics and have some of the most incredible ideas I have ever seen. I’m going to go back and reblog that art I did of Legend so you can fully understand just how much your writing means to me and so many others
I-
Oh my word.
It's not even that late where I am but it's way too late to get bombarded like this.
Thank you.
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making fun of americans is pretty much always ok if youre not doing it in an edgelord “you guys have so many school shootings” way or acting like we’re the only country that has racism. but like posts about americans and hamburger get me every time
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me when i have like 20 notifications in the span of five minutes and when i go check its just the same guy rapidfire liking and reblogging posts
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🐛 caterpillar - the returning champion of the 2023 race at 41.6% of the votes
🐌 snail - runner up of the 2023 race at 38.3%, only 3.3% behind the caterpillar.
🪱 worm - placed last in 2023, with only 20.1% of votes
🪲 beetle, 🐞 ladybug, and 🐝 bee are new competitors!
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