#hi hello!!!!

[d3r-the-golden-spartan]

theres another...

@the-golden-artist

You're the one he was keeping in a cage, right?

Apologies. That was rude of me.

Hi, nice to meet you.

- D

[enderwisp]

bites you

ow!!!!!!! bites you back

[universal-admin]

★ [ Clockwork kept running, and running, and running, before his legs gave out, tripping and tumbling onto the ground. ] ★

★ [ He let out a small cry of pain as he rolled over one of his wings, just laying on the ground for a few seconds before pushing himself up, just sitting on the ground. He didn't know if he was safe or not, but his wing was definitely busted. ] ★

" Ugh... "

"Clock? Is that you over there?" -> Oh my god! A familiar voice! Thick with a southern accent and full of concern, a short, heavyset man eventually coming into view. It was Builderman! The HQ's finest! "Clock! The hell are ya doin' 'ver there? Get off ya ass and c'mere!"

[hitheeprithee]

💌😯

Beloved mutual stitch!!!

Uhhh picking just one thing is hard so here have a few <3:

I love how you write about identity and humanity, your concepts are not only absolutely banger but so philosophical, I always come away from our conversations Thinkin about that shit and it's incredible. I just think that robots....

Also you are just! The nicest and friendliest! I have had the most fun chatting with you, and I'm so so glad we've become friends :D

[theworsttrollhunter]

wow a bunch of new followers hi!! I obsess over draal a lot

[sash-ha-blog]

Being a Fox meant summers were short, and Sasha was one of those who had always counted it as a blessing. An entire month under her mother’s roof was equivalent to an eternity despite the preventative measures she took to spend as little time there as possible. 

Partying had been cut from the itinerary long ago - there was nowhere for her to hide in Malibu, everyone knew someone who knew her mother or her brother, and anything that looked even remotely incriminating would only end with Exy torn from her grasp - so she’d been left with nothing better to do than continue training. Running, swimming, breaking in a new punching bag; all of it simply to whittle away the minutes until she was back on the court with her racquet in hand.

Once she’d lugged all of her belongings up to her room, then given the driver her mother had sent an abrupt, and frankly vulgar, dismissal, there wasn’t much left to do-- with the exception of relaxing. Which, by Sasha’s definition meant dodging everyone else and going straight up to the roof. It was the first true solitude she’d had since she’d left Palmetto, just her and the dying daylight. Not even her mother’s little birds could get to her up there.

Of course, that wasn’t to say she was the only person who knew about the busted lock.

“What?” was her warm way of greeting the interloper, barely turning from her precarious perch on the edge of the roof. “I'm not interested in trust falls or whatever you're going to try and convince me into doing downstairs.”

[ask-striderpest]

TG: this is dumb