Weaker sandwich, sounds like it would have a lot of mayonnaise on it, and maybe like a hunk of beef, and also those weird bits of lettuce that you never seen or expect in a sandwich, and it’s like a complete surprise when you take a wrong bite
You know what, fuck it. I'm usually definitely not into "just make them a throuple!!". But my brain is rebellious and immediately started to think about First Aid/Springer/Impactor, so thank you!
BASED
Who's in the middle? Is First Aid living his dream of a wrecker sandwich with nurse bot filling? 🤭
Where’s Overlords/Optimusss presents?
uh hey- Merry Christmas! no- really-
This is getting out of hand, now there are two of them
two of them
Star woke up warm. Which was odd, he never was warm, usually whatever blankets he was using either got stolen or misplaced, then only warmth usually came From his comrades who he was sleeping with. Scrunched up like sardines just waiting for someone to pick them up one by one and eat them. But not today, or morning he thought, today was warm, maybe even hot.
And it didn’t smell like fresh cement, it smelled like drywall. Another odd thing. And the blankets around him were not scratchy or itchy or small, in fact they not only covered him completely(minus his head), they also seemed to be furry. He slowly creaking open his eyes, just for a minute, in case he broke whatever dream or spell he was under.
He was in an aggressively orange room, even the door was painted a sharp clementine. Despite his original opinion, he hated this, and his blankets, shades of yellow that could rival the sun burned his eyes. His eyes! Star almost missed how odd everything looked, not only were the colors more vibrant, everything gave a new form of texture. He would say they felt the same, but he had never felt such things before. Honestly, he… his hands, they were also changed. He looked at them, soft squishy things with something hard at its core. Pick able, more flexible the his old ones, gouging as to chipping. Freaky, he froze, touching his face and his neck, and looking at his feet. He was a lumpy blobby flesh thing, all the way through, he was fully human now. He screamed,covered his head under the covers, and then cried.
Yes
before 2024 is over does anyone want to admit they're lying to themselves
Well, Star thought, well, I have two options. Option one, wait it out. Sounded simplistic and stupid, and also problematic. He had no idea where he was, or what lead him here. So part of option two, try to remember and make some sort of semblance of a plan despite his ignorance, was partly in motion. Star remembered a deep navy hijab with golden accents, Kimia. Which meant nothing, he worked with her on a daily basis, her two little shits provoked him almost daily, today…the day he remembered…was no different. He gave up trying to break through her solemn professional exterior, and had followed her towards one of the many briefing rooms in the massive warship. And he saw… he saw… Star clutched his head with his abominable soft hands as a headache burned through his now human skull. He was used to headaches, but this one was definitely different, like a metal headache, just, less crippling. It however didn’t erase the face that both his supervisor, Mr Morgenstern and Prime Minister Veracity Cotte siting, sitting!! In the same room together!! And nobody was dead, or dying, or even remotely injured?!
“Knock knock” His spiraling was taken away by an interpreter, some fuckboy clearly up is own ass with the power given to him by whatever authority had taken him. Most likely the Prime Minister. “What?!” He snapped, headache still lingering, he was never in the mood to socialize, let alone in this situation.
Hello🤗❤️
I hope you are well🌹
Can you help me get my voice heard
and share my family's story?🙏🏻
Can you Reblog my pinned post from my blog or donate 10$?
By helping to reblog my story, you could
save a family from death and war.🌹
Thank you very much🌸
🕊️❤️🌹🙏🏻
Who are you?
it’s 2028. trump is dead. elon is dead. zuckerberg is dead bezos is dead they’re all dead
so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god
Was not expecting this 15 years later
Not homophobic!
Every url that reblog’s will be written in a book and shown to my homophobic dad.