”I cannot help but feel as if I’m forgetting something…”



           [ flops on someone ]


He yelps, but ceases to react further. “H-Hey!!”

tagged as:   #blasteredged 
"❝My Redpup. My sunset hound.❞ ♥"

"My little flower. My beacon of hope.
                                         My friend.” 

tagged as:   #meteorfallcetra 

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—Favored company was a different matter.

Intrepid was the marginal bliss to push aside the dull exterior, dainty simper grown from the sight of carmine coat. Alleviation to exhaustion was the gift from a friend and he could only bequeath a nod of flaxen halo to the other; door closed in the meanwhile.

Guess I’ve got no choice.

Light banter in the midst of private silence, leather soles moved across floorboards. And a gloved palm would be directed unto scarlet crown, giving a light pat to an old friend.

How’ve you been, Nanaki?


Such had been a gesture he would accept only from those whom he held dear. A simple touch it was, yet it had been all he needed to discern the status of his friend. Relieved, relaxed, safe—it was a rare instance to see the swordsman in such a blatantly-pleasant mood. Nanaki could only chuckle in response to it.

"I have been well," truly he had been, although he missed his comrades dearly, "but it’s been a little slow back home.”

He exercised a shrug; ember-lit tail flicking from side to side as he did. “The time has almost come for me to revisit the Cave of Gi—to see my father again,” he blurted suddenly—perhaps a bit hopefully.

"If your delivery service can stand the delay—or if you’re—you know, bored, you should consider accompanying me.”



{✿— “That’s a silly way to make an entrance.”

 ”Really? I thought I looked rather cool.”



 ”—…It’s pronounced: Nanaki.”

tagged as:   #;answered 

   /screams bc how did 300 followers happen i haven’t even been here???

I will get to work on a giveaway—or maybe something else to reward you guys for your bad decision making. Once I get home from work, that is! :)



We’re closed. Try tomorrow.

—Apathy exposed inner a exhausted tone for all to see, though emphasis had been garnished to the affirmation of the establishment’s status.

And he was far too tired to care if they happened to take offense.

"Can’t you make an exception for an old friend?"

Had he been anything less than proud, the experiment would have pawed at the door—he even considered it for the sake of humor; however, he merely proceeded to saunter past the “gatekeeper”, firmly planting his rump on the ground—defiantly, of course.

“Yes. Yes, you can.”



      Looks like I’m gonna have’ta leave again.

  “I wonder which dishes she’ll throw this time.
      I mean—where must you go now?”

tagged as:   #falsamilitis