#( anonymoose. )

[sinkuna]

messy morning kitchen sex please please PLEASEEEE

I fuck with this so hard for Nanami (and Toji), say less Anon ♡ ♡ ♡

୨୧ ― Nanami’s shirt- crisp white cotton now splattered with batter clings to his chest as he leans over you, his knuckles pale where they grip the edge of the counter. Your thighs splay wide, the cold marble biting into bare skin, but his mouth is hotter, hungrier, trailing down your stomach.

“Look at you,” he growls, voice rougher than the coffee he abandoned. His thumb swipes through the syrup dripping down your nipple, slow and deliberate, before his tongue follows. A wet, filthy slurp echoes as he cleans the mess he made, amber streaks glistening on his jaw, “Should’ve known you’d taste better than breakfast.”

You squirm, bare heels digging into the small of his back, but it only makes him pin you harder to the counter. Flour dusts your hair like snow, and his free hand yanks your hip upward, fingers bruising. There’s no patience in him today- not after last night’s whispered I love you. It had taken so long for those words to slip past his lips, and he won’t waste another minute not showing you how much he means them.

He doesn’t bother undressing fully. Just slides down his grey sweatpants low enough to free his cock, thick and flushed- the prettiest bead of pearlescent arousal at its tip.

The first thrust punches a gasp from your throat. “N’ah~Nanami~”

“Kento,” he corrects, voice fraying, hips snapping forward- stretching your cunt wide and deep, “Call me Kento, sweetheart. Just like last night.”

You choke it out between breathless moans- a sweet, honeyed name, a plea for more, “Kento~♡“.

And he gives it, fucks you open so fast and rough you swear the cabinets rattle. But there are worse ways to wake up than with your legs slung over Nanami Kento’s shoulders, the head of his cock kissing your womb.

Especially when he’s continuously “accidentally” slides his syrup drenched thumb across your skin, smearing sugary mess all over your pretty nipples, your shoulders, and anywhere else he deems appropriate… his gaze never leaving yours when his head dips back down to clean you up.

He could spend the whole day like this, buried to the hilt inside you, licking you clean, feeling you pulse around him with every messy kiss and filthy thrust.

Your hands tug at his hair, his first name falling from your lips- and he swears there's nothing sweeter in this world. Not even the pancakes he promised.

୨୧ — 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒫𝑜𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝓍𝑜𝓍𝑜 │ ⋆｡˚꒰ঌ 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ໒꒱˚｡⋆

[nctanthca]

Hello. Everything is fine. It's me again, the one who wrote to you about Emily. I will give up anonymity and will soon write on my own behalf. I will write to you not from an RP blog, but from a regular one. I hope your rules don't apply here? Otherwise I read your rules about design blog. And that's why I used anonymous. My RP blog is under development and will be ready soon. As I said on Tumblr, I'm new, so something like this. I've done RP on other social media platforms before. And another question. Do you visit Emily's page the same way? Well, is your blog equally active with the current one?

Hello my favourite Annonymoose! There's no rush! Whenever you are feeling up to it message me and we can plot or I can help you with whatever you need. <3 Emily is connected to this blog as a sideblog so I get any alerts for her and she is active. I might be actively posting on her but I am browsing primeval tags and thinking of her. :)

[lonerslug]

Hello, I hope you are having a good day! :) Could you write about a touch starved reader who’s Sevika’s roommate who Sev comforts and holds to make them feel better? <3 I love your fics

a/n: okay… so i suppose this is fluff right? i live for it 😙

You don’t mean to wake her.

The couch creaks as you shift, blinking through the sting behind your eyes. You’d been trying to sleep. God, really trying, but sometimes the silence feels so loud it drowns you. You miss the weight of someone beside you. A hug. A hand on your back. Someone who notices when you go too quiet and too still and don’t eat anything all day.

So you’d wandered out to the living room, hoping maybe sitting near her door might be enough.

Apparently not.

A soft grunt comes from the hallway. Then her voice, gravelly, low, half-asleep,

“…You good?”

You suck in a breath, panic bristling under your skin. You hadn’t wanted to bother her. Not her. Not Sevika, who works twelve-hour shifts, who keeps her hair tied back with a twist of elastic and lets her coffee go cold while fixing other people’s messes. She’s all solid muscle and tired eyes and you’ve never, ever seen her cry.

“I’m fine,” you say too fast. “Sorry. I was just, couldn’t sleep. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

There’s a beat of silence. You hear her door open. Then soft, padded footsteps across the wooden floor.

She stops a few feet away. You look up at her, blinking under the dim light of the kitchen.

She’s in a black tank top and gray boxers, her scarred arm bare in the warm low light. Her hair’s down, messy waves brushing her shoulders. She looks tired. But not annoyed.

“…You been crying?” she asks, voice quieter now.

Your throat clenches.

“No.”

Sevika looks at you. The way she always does, like she sees more than you want her to. Then she sighs and comes over, sitting heavily beside you on the couch. Her broad thigh presses into yours, warm and solid.

You freeze up.

Then, gently, slowly, she lifts her arm and sets it behind you on the couch cushion, not touching you yet.

“I won’t do anything if you don’t want me to,” she murmurs, not looking at you. “But if you… need something. You can ask.”

Your hands ball into fists in your lap. Shame crawls up your neck, hot and itchy.

“I don’t wanna be weird,” you whisper.

She huffs softly through her nose. A quiet sound, not mocking.

“It’s not weird.”

“…You want a hug?”

Your heart lurches. No one has asked you that in months. maybe a year, yeah a year. You nod before your voice can catch up.

Sevika shifts, arm wrapping slowly around your back, her hand resting on your waist. She pulls you in, tugging gently until you’re folded into her side, head on her shoulder.

Your breath shudders.

She holds you like it’s easy. Like she doesn’t mind. Like she’s done this before, even if she hasn’t.

You close your eyes. It takes every bit of control you have not to cry into her shirt. She’s warm, and smells like clean laundry and faint smoke, and her hand strokes slowly up and down your side like she knows what you need without needing to ask.

“Shit,” you mumble. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologising,” she murmurs. “You’re okay.”

You nod, swallowing hard. It’s quiet again. But this time, not loud. Not empty. Her voice breaks it just once,

“You could’ve asked sooner.”

Your lips twitch against her shoulder. “Didn’t know if I could.”

She snorts. “I’m not good at this shit. But… you live with me. You can always ask.”

You finally let your body relax into hers.

And for the first time in too long, you feel safe enough to fall asleep like that, pressed to her side, wrapped in her arm, held like maybe you’re not too much after all.

taglist: @sapphicstrawcore @shanesevikasfuckdoll @sevikaswinkinghole @sevikas-whore @butchpuppyy @georgiahs-stuff @illbecanon @riotstemple29 @barelykiramman @mommyissuesismypersonality

[jewishbarbies]

Greta Thunberg’s actions make alot more sense when you view her as a former child star. Her parents marketed her as this child-martyr for climate change and she started spiraling right around the time she “aged out” of that role. It’s not an accident that she grabbed onto trendy leftist causes after she turned 19-20. She can’t handle being out of the spotlight.

it really does feel like a selfish attention grab. especially with the whole “they were kidnapped” pre planned angle, when there’s published pictures of her being offered food and getting a plane ride to France a few hours later. it’s always her pictured and leftists mostly talk about her when they talk about the “aid” boat. she’s being treated like a celebrity. the girl has done literally nothing useful, just pissed people off with no way to help the cause except be angry. now she gets to reap the benefits of being the face of it all. I genuinely don’t believe she ever actually cared about anything else.

[profmadscientist]

Can u draw ur oc with the other trolls or kids?

Dont have a good idea of how i want to draw any of them yet so forgive how they look

[mythsec]

We obviously can't post it without edits but have fun with the new CEO of United Healthcare

[swedishgoaliemafia]

saw rich clune announced as a new asst. coach for the penguins and I shit you not, your fics were my first thought LMAO. I have zero other knowledge of this man. this is fine lol

The Gospel of Dicky will be my legacy, because when Dicky was in the NHL was also the last time I was actually paying attention to the whole league.

[doyelikehaggis]

Hi RJ!! Happy Pride Month!! Can I please request some art of 2010!Lauren Branning x Lucy Beale going to pride together, please? It’s a shame that EE has never shown any lbgt scenes between these two, because look that the obvious chemistry?!? thank you so much!! 🏳️‍🌈❤️

Hi, Anon!! Happy Pride Month!! <3 You can absolutely request that, I LOVE that you did. 2010!Lauren had the biggest queer energy, even before they recast both Lauren and Lucy I was shipping those two. But since you asked for 2010!Lauren, I also drew Hetti's Lucy as I assume that's what you were looking for? Anyway, thank you so much for the request, I hope you like it!! <3

[sinkuna]

tuna

"Tuna," Inumaki says softly, watching as you attempt to spread rice evenly on the nori sheet.

"I know, I know- there’s tuna right here!” You laugh, gesturing to the careful pile of fish you’d prepared. “Wait, do you want extra in yours? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

"Bonito flakes..."

"I mean, I could add a whole oceans worth of tuna if that’s what you’re after~ or are you judging my sushi technique?" you huff playfully, waving a piece of nori at him.

He gives you that signature deadpan stare before deliberately pointing at your hair, but you catch a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

"Tuna."

You pat your head in confusion, finding nothing there.

He seems to be trying not to laugh now.

"Wh-what’s so funny hmm???" you pout, "Toge come on-"

His eyes soften as he slowly unzips his jacket collar, careful to aim his words directly at you, "don’t move."

Your body instantly freezes in place from his cursed speech, but your heart starts racing as he leans in close. His gentle fingers brush through your hair, plucking out two grains of rice.

Despite being frozen, you could feel your face flush as his warm breath fans across your cheek. He’s so close you can count his eyeless- his very long lashes… and even see the happiness dancing in his eyes.

The sweetest smile spreads across his face- one of those rare, genuine ones that makes your stomach flutter with butterflies. Still maintaining eye contact, he rubs his nose softly against yours.

The curse wears off just as he pulls back, leaving you flustered and stammering. "I... you... that's not fair!"

"Salmon," he says simply, but his eyes are crinkled with affection as he returns to his perfect sushi rolling, leaving you a blushing mess beside him.

You can't help but smile though- trust Inumaki to find the sweetest way to tease you, even with his cursed speech...

⋆｡˚꒰ঌ 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ໒꒱˚｡⋆

[jewishbarbies]

is there any hope democracy in the us can survive

yes. it might be muzzled or look wounded for a while, but it’ll survive. just like we will.

[empyrean-clairvoyance]

The Prince is presented with a graphic video of an imp dying on a terribly oversized glue trap.

whelp now you fucking did it, he crying! he hopes your fucking happy now!

[yourstruly-ace]

had my ask answered <3

[mika-chaos-bean]

no i was asking what did i ever do to you that would make you so mad at me

Again, I do not know. I'm not even mad at you.

Please explain why you would think that so I can clear my name and not feel guilty about absolutely nothing.

[swedishgoaliemafia]

Do you have any advice on actually processing this instead of huffing cope because the cope is Tempting but then reality is back and it hurts again

So this sounds like shitty advice but a big part is accepting that yes it happened. This person I liked and maybe felt very invested in has poor beliefs and/or did a bad thing. As a hockey fan I experienced a more severe version of this with “guy you liked or maybe even wrote about was accused of sexual assault” (and it happened more than once!). And at first everyone wants to deny it, make excuses, “let’s hear what he has to say/let’s wait for the courts to do their jobs/innocent until proven guilty.”

But you have to have a really deep look at “what are my values here?” Do I value people matching my politics? In my case it was, do I value believing victims the first time? And I had to decide that valuing supporting victims had to be more important than supporting a celebrity I liked, even if it meant irreparably changing the way I viewed that celebrity.

And it sucks! It’s disappointing! You feel cheated and betrayed and then you feel stupid for being upset about a stranger. You learn a bit of a lesson about not putting as much stock into celebrities because you don’t actually know them and they always have the power to let you down. (I assume all hockey players and wrestlers are conservative unless proven otherwise, because it hurts less and it’s usually right.)

It’s important to let yourself have those shitty feelings, but then to also decide what this means for you going forward. Some people are of the mindset that they can divorce a wrestler’s character in kayfabe from the wrestler. I think that’s very hard to do with wrestling when the lines of kayfabe are so blurred but that’s just me. For some people, this doesn’t go against their values. Some people will say that they can ignore someone's politics, or they don't take someone's politics as a sign of moral right or wrongness. That's a decision you have to make for yourself. We all know someone who doesn't share our politics and sometimes you can say, "I think they're generally a good person," but it also says something about them that they can prioritize their own political or economic desires over the wellbeing of others (and that's the kindest assumption to make about why someone would vote that way).

You have to decide how much, if at all, you can support someone whose beliefs you fundamentally disagree with. For me, it meant I deleted some fics, I kept others, but I stopped consuming fanfic with those individuals in them, I stopped cheering for them, you wouldn't buy merch for them, etc. It was hard! It meant not just being disappointed as a human but also having to change fandom habits. But doing the hard part matched my values more than pretending I didn't know what I knew and continuing to support somebody who harmed others. It's still bittersweet. I can't say it ever feels good to say "I was a big fan of this person and they let me down." It's a grieving process in a way. But you will adjust.

[doyelikehaggis]

I’m not sure if this counts as rarepair rowboat but what about a drabble of Klayley with three daughters? (maybe Hayley’s pregnant again and this time it’ll be a boy) I just love the little family of Hayley, Klaus, and Hope and I think it would be so nice if they choose to have more kids.

As an apology for how dreadfully long this has taken me to answer, I have done my absolute best to write something worthy of this beautiful concept. Klayley with more kids, building a family, is just my bread and butter, so thank you for gracing me with such an idea <3

*

The sound of feet moving so swiftly, almost silently, around his home would usually unnerve Klaus. It used to, in the past. It meant danger. Trespassers, people who were stepping where they did not belong, trying to catch him unawares.

Especially when he can hear the quick beats of their hearts. Growing closer to him. Sneaking up on him, his back turned to them. It would be very reasonable for him to act on instinct.

He closes his eyes. A smile curves his lips as the wolves pounce.

"Got you!" two voices scream at the top of their lungs as tiny arms wrap around his neck and legs, entangling him in a trap of limbs. They break out into laughter as they use all their might to wrestle him to the ground.

Once he's on the floor, growling, defeated, the two little wolves celebrate their victory whilst sitting on top of him. It's then that he breaks character and laughs along with them.

"Daddy!" Rikki scolds him, giving him a kick in the ribs. "You're not supposed to laugh! We've taken you prisoner, remember?"

He quickly tries to rearrange his features into something more sullen and angry as he nods swiftly, clearing his throat. "You're right, love, I'm sorry. I'm a prisoner."

At that, Astrid groans loudly and flops to the floor. "Dad!"

"What? What did I do?" he asks, eyes darting between the two of them.

"You know, prisoners don't usually call their captors 'love,'" another voice chimes in, almost sing-song-like in her smugness. He cranes his neck back and looks at her upside down as she walks towards them, arms folded and a smile on her face. "But then, you never were very good at playing prisoner, were you?"

He grins up at Hayley. "Just not my nature, love, you know that."

"Well, you have to be the prisoner," Rikki says stubbornly, still sitting on his chest. "It's the only way we can play the game, and you and Mom said we're not allowed to do any magic unless Hope's here, so there's nothing else we can play."

"Aside from the millions of toys you have upstairs in your rooms," he says, raising his eyebrows at her.

She glowers back at him. It's a familiar expression, strikingly like the one occasionally worn on her mother. Right now, though, Hayley can't do anything but laugh at the situation he's gotten himself into.

To his luck, Astrid has already grown tired of the game and his lack of cooperation, unlike her big sister. She gets off the floor and climbs into Hayley's arms, her attention turned, as usual, to the constantly growing bump. As the youngest, she's fascinated by the soon-to-be baby, though has taken to scolding it when it causes her mother any kind of discomfort.

"Does it feel weird?" she asks, moving her foot along it and looking up at Hayley with big brown eyes. "Like, a worm wriggling around in your stomach?"

Hayley smiles and tucks a piece of her auburn hair behind her ear with a nod. "A bit like that, yeah. But it's good. It means he's healthy."

Rikki and Klaus' heads both snap up. Klaus sits up, wrapping an arm wound Rikki as he rearranges to sit her in his lap as he stares up at Hayley.

"He?" Rikki repeats, taking the word right out of his mouth. "It's a boy? So, we're gonna have a little brother?"

Hayley glances from her to Klaus, her eyes lingering on his as her smile grows to bursting point. He can feel it in his chest, ready to explode, until, finally, she nods once more.

"A boy," he breathes out. Then he hugs Rikki, pressing a kiss to her head as a grin splits his face in half. "Hear that, sweetheart? A little brother for you and your sister. How does that sound?"

It isn't only Hayley's features he sees in his daughter, as her smile creeps into his heart much like his dear little sister's did when they only had each other. Her dark blonde hair only makes it more striking.

"I like that," she says.

Astrid, however, makes a face and prods Hayley's stomach lightly with a toe like it suddenly contains a flesh-eating beast. "Will he be weird and gross like the boys at my school?"

The three of them laugh, and Hayley strokes her cheek. "No, sweetheart, he'll be kind and sweet, and he'll adore his big sisters."

"Like Uncle Kol," Klaus chimes in.

That lights Astrid up like a Christmas tree. It's a little annoying how Kol has managed to worm his way in as the favourite despite living halfway across the world, but Klaus supposes he cannot begrudge him the love one niece as Rebekah firmly remains Rikki's favourite.

"Oh, come on, don't lie to her." They look across the room to find Hope standing by the door, back slung over her shoulder and a smile on her face. "He's part of this family. It would be impossible for him not to be a total freak like the rest of us."

The kids are uproarious with joy. Rikki is gone in a blur, colliding with Hope and nearly sending her crashing, and Astrid has never looked more like a tiny wolf as she loses her footing halfway out of Hayley's arms in her haste to join her sisters.

Hope laughs as she crouches down to hug them both. "Oh, my god, can you two stop growing? You're going to be taller than me soon."

"Wouldn't be hard, love," Klaus says, getting to his feet. She tilts her head, her mouth falling open to gape at him, and he grins. "Sorry, sweetheart, but you're a short-arse. I truly don't know whose side of the family you got that from, maybe Rebekah."

"Wow, Dad, thanks a lot," Hope says through laughter as Hayley swats him lightly for swearing in front of the kids. She walks over to them and into their open arms, hugging them both tightly. Muffled, she quietly says, "I missed you."

Klaus plants a kiss on top of her head and Hayley strokes her hair, softly saying, "We missed you, too, sweetheart. But, hey, you're here now and you can tell us all about school. Anything exciting happen?"

Pulling back, Hope makes a face. "You could say that."

"Caroline might have mentioned something about, what was it... a dragon?" Klaus says uncertainly, as if he doesn't already know every dangerous detail his daughter seems to have miraculously forgotten to mention recently. "And, I swear, there was something about a boy. What was his name again...?"

She laughs nervously now, realizing just that. To her great fortune, Rikki and Astrid hear the word "dragon" and take control of the conversation with a bombardment of questions. Hayley catches Klaus' arms and motions to the side. They step away from the girls as Hope is dragged to the couch.

"Let her settle in, at least, before we start grilling her about a possible boyfriend, alright?" she says quietly.

Klaus sighs. "Fine. But if that's Landon she mentioned last year, I will not be held responsible for what happens to him."

"You are terrible," she tells him, smiling. "Can you please just try to be happy that our daughter is living her life?"

Deep down, the words hit him with an almighty force. His eyes dart back over to where their three little girls sit together, laughing away. The truth is, he couldn't be happier. Seeing them all. Seeing Hope so grown up. God, she's changed so much since he saw her last, it actually almost breaks him, how quickly time seems to be moving. But it's also a feeling of relief, one that forces him to take a deep breathe as he realizes that Hope is no longer that tiny, helpless little creature in constant danger. Perhaps the last part hasn't changed, but the rest has.

And it's a good thing. How strong, how independent she has become. She looks up and catches his eyes, and she sticks her tongue out at him just like Astrid does. A glimpse of his little girl in this new, wonderful form.

Hayley touches his chest and his eyes are drawn back to her. "Alright," he says softly, "I suppose I can... live with that."

"And not kill her boyfriend."

"And not... kill her boyfriend," he repeats through gritted teeth.

Hayley rolls her eyes at him, but she still kisses him like he's deserving of it. Like she somehow loves him all the more for it, the stubbornness, the wolf inside of him despite its sometimes animalistic nature. It makes him ache in some way, wanting to be able to do more, do better by her somehow. All he can do is kiss her with everything he has and hope it's enough. Somehow, impossibly, it always seems to be.

She pulls back with a smile, caressing his face gently. In turn, his hands and gaze fall between them, both softening upon her stomach.

"So, we're having a boy," he says again.

"Mhm. Poor kid's going to be severely outnumbered, but I suppose it was about time to start evening the numbers out a little." She turns stern as he lifts his gaze back to her. "But I swear, Klaus Mikaelson, if you even dare try to suggest we name him after you, I will kill you."

He laughs at that but tries to look offended. "Well, frankly, I think it would only be fair considering our oldest daughter is named after you."

"Oh, it's her middle name and you chose it," Hayley retorts, poking a finger into his chest. "You're not getting away with that. No way."

"Then what do you suggest?" he asks, knowing that he was never actually going to burden the poor little thing with his own atrocious name.

Hayley looks away. "Well, actually, I was thinking... Henrik."

His heart seems to stop as the last of the air in his lungs escapes in a quiet gasp of shock. She looks up at him, a smile as gentle as her fingers flitting across her lips as she raises a shoulder.

"Henrik?" he repeats faintly. It makes him dizzy just to utter the name, his heart and mind bombarded by everything attached to it, and yet also oddly soothed by letting it be heard. Just, he imagines, as Hayley might have felt when he revealed the piece of her own self forever tied with Hope in the form of her middle name.

"It just feels... I don't know, right, I guess?" she says, shaking her head. "But if that's too much for you, then we can..."

"No," he interrupts. He presses his lips together, composing himself. "That's... No. It's perfect."

He stares at her, sighing softly, and he pulls her close, a hand on the back of her head as he presses his lips to her temple. "Thank you, Little Wolf." He pulls back, cradling her face between his hands lovingly, and looking deep into her eyes as he makes up his mind. "Our son's name will be Henrik. But, if I may, I want to give him his middle name."

Hayley nods. "Yeah. That's fine."

"Then our son will be called Henrik Jackson Mikaelson."

For the two names open messy, unhealed wounds in both their hearts, and Klaus knows that Hayley feels that same burst of emotion, followed by the odd relief at hearing the names said aloud. Never to be forgotten, even though they never could be for they live on in their heads.

Eyes glassy, Hayley takes a shuddering breath and nods. "It's perfect," she agrees.

"Just as he will be absolutely perfect," he says. "Just like his big sisters, and their strong, beautiful, amazing mother." He shifts her hair out of her face with a finger as she leans into his hand against her cheek. "You, Little Wolf, are the best thing to have ever walked into my life. Thank you"

"For what?" she breathes out, and jokingly says, "For getting just drunk enough not to ask myself if it was a bad idea to sleep with you?"

He swallows thickly. "For everything. For this." He glances back at the girls, then returns his gaze to her with full sincerity. "This family. Our family. For allowing me to be a part of it. Thank you, Little Wolf, for giving me a reason to never run again. You are my home."

[sinkuna]

I’ve read your three part Sukuna fic with pregnant reader and they’re soo cute and you write them so well! I also can’t help but imagine, after they eventually die, they get reincarnated into the modern world and fall in love with each other all over again (*cue Would You Fall In Love With Me Again from EPIC the musical*) aahh 💗

This is adorable, and Nonny I’m here to tell you I think about this ALL the time!!!

Legit i was debating on doing a timekskip ♡ the bad boy x flower shop sweetheart ♡ ♡ ♡ okay now you have me playing this song and ahhhh you have me thinking… (the song is perfect btw *smooches*

୨୧ — Imagine Sukuna reincarnated, his curse marks now intricate tattoos. His multiple eyes reduced to a normal penetrating glare, and despite having only two now, they still make others tremble. And there you are- his weakness, reincarnated as a flower shop owner with that same snow pure smile that once brought him to his knees.

The moment you both collide, petals scattering like memories between the two of you. "Watch where the fuck you’re go-," his snarl catches in his throat when those familiar eyes meet his…

He tries to avoid the pull of you, taking different routes past your shop, but always finding his motorcycle slowing when he catches glimpses of you arranging bouquets in the window.

Imagine it’s late at night at a gas station, and as he leans against his motorcycle he watches as a group of men corner you, his jaw clenching as he tries to ignore it. But, his body moves before his mind decides, "Oi," he growls, and the violence that follows is muscle memory from another life. His helmet flying through the air hitting the one who has a grip on your wrist, fists connecting with satisfying crunches as he tears through your assailants like he once tore through armies and the most powerful sorcerers. When it's over, he stands breathing heavily, blood on his knuckles that isn't his own.

"You're bleeding," you say softly, reaching for him without fear, just like you did lifetimes ago. And despite himself, despite his reputation, he finds himself offering you a ride to your flower shop, allowing you to tend his wounds with gentleness that makes his eyes soften, but only for moment.

Neither of you mention how right it feels when your fingers linger on his.

It would seem some souls are destined to find each other again and again. A bond too strong for even death to break ♡