Rex ol' boy
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Rex ol' boy
THE KICKSLED IS HERE *oh canada playing in the background
ayo bald dog *slaps his bald head*
:U
Stefano has a love-hate relationship with air conditioning. On one hand, it feels nice and keeps his sculptures and paintings from melting during the summer. On the other hand, he's sensitive to the cold, so he suits up, and when he doesn't have the energy to put on a suit, he rolls himself up in blankets and calls it a day.
Barricade: let me go!
Punch: so that you can return to the battlefield kindled?!? Absolutely not.
"Bu..." Barricade stared at the furious Autobot.
When he had been yanked beyond the rock formation he had been sure he had been about to be murdered. Instead, his arms had been bound with rope, not stasis cuffs. The Autobot kept a firm hold on him ass took careful stock of the dings and dents Ironhide had dealt him. The old war build was faster than he looked and Barricade had gotten a lot slower.
"How did you know?" Barricade asked, trying to wriggle away from the Autobot's red servos.
"It's fraggin' obvious," the Autobot growled. "What a fool. Y're comin' wit me, Mechlin'."
There was not at Barricade could do to resist. He dug his peds in but the Autobot just nudged a wire cluster on Barricade’s back and it forced him forward. Was this worse than being pulverized by Ironhide. Obviously, the Autobot did not approve of a Decepticon carrying. Would they take the bitlet from him? Would they hurt Ricochet if Barricade told them he was the sire?
"Ratchet!" The Autobot called as he tugged Barricade into the Autobot's large medbay. "Got a patient for ya."
"Join the line," Ratchet shot back. The room was filled with Autobots in varying degrees of repair. Barricade flinched, they all stared at him. Servos tied, there was nothing he could do to protect himself from the mob. One by one, they all looked away. Ratchet looked him up and down and gave Barricade a dark glare. "Put him in Room 3. He's your problem until I'm done."
Aziraphale loves spicy foods after spending thousands of years exploring the Earth's cuisine and if Crowley eats a jalapeno he wants to cut off his tongue
Alternative Take on Hoof Fellas Pg. 95
Otto bleats in terror, goes ramrod stiff, and faints, as goats are wont to do.
A demonstration of Otto sliding into Hell, if you will.