I've always gotten the sense that for all of his apparent irritation, Hatori treasures Ayame, and could even develop romantic feelings for him, under the "right" circumstances; Ayame's charisma and larger-than-life personality seems like a great complement for the more grounded, contemplative Hatori.
Which is why i've been absolutely DEVOURING the WIP Cold Hands, Warm Heart by ao3 user AnimeliaRose. It's a friends-to-lovers AU that is currently at 6 chapters and just shy of 15K words.
It's SO well written (see an excerpt under the cut), and the premise is very compelling, in the sense that it's set in the Dom/sub universe.
For those unfamiliar, this universe is one where everyone has a secondary gender: Dominant, Submissive, or Neutral. As noted in the Chapter 6 endnotes: "Dominants have the base desire to exert control over Subs. Wants to punish/wants to praise/wants to protect/wants to be depended on." And for Subs, "Submissives have the base desire to be controlled by Doms. Wants to be punished/wants to be cared for/wants to be praised."
While the fic hasn't yet delved into how this universe will play into Hatori and Ayame's developing relationship (i.e. a future dynamic of Dom Hatori/sub Ayame), it's been doing a wonderful job of setting the overall tone for the story, and for introducing a genuine softness and mutual admiration between them. Below is one of my favorite parts, from Chapter 3. I think it's perfectly demonstrative of the chemistry between them:
‘Do you think I’m strange, Tori?’
‘What? Where is this coming from all of a sudden?’
‘Gure would never admit it, but…Akito has become his life’s purpose. You’re studying all hours of the day for your tests, but all I can think about is whether or not I would look good in this.’
Ayame showed him the page of his magazine, which showed a tall female model in a long red dress with huge sleeves and a thigh high slit.
‘I’m not studying for tests, this is a medical journal.’ Hatori said.
‘See! That is what I mean!’ Ayame moaned. ‘You already know you want to be a doctor, save lives. All I do is think about lace and velvet.’
‘I haven’t got much choice in the matter. Besides, last time I checked, aren’t there such things as fashion designers in the world?’ Hatori asked, arching his brow.
‘Mother would-’
‘Stop worrying about what your mother thinks. Or anyone else for that matter.’ Hatori pushed his head away, and Ayame lolled theatrically to the floor, his hair covering his face.
‘And for what it is worth, you are indeed the strangest person I have ever met. Although, I haven't met that many people.’
Ayama parted his hair like a curtain and pouted up at him. ‘Tooorrriiii, you’re so mean -’
‘But, that is why I like you.’ Hatori said.
‘You…like me?’
‘Of course I do, you fool.’ Hatori replied brusquely, not looking away from his book. ‘You’re my friend. I’ll like you enough for Akito and your mother. Don’t be sad about it anymore.’
He hesitated, then glanced down at him. Ayame was staring back up at him, his eyes glistening.
I don't remember when I've last done a fanart for a fanfic - probably never. But I got inspired by AnimeliaRose's great story, so...Here it is?
Link to the fanfic itself: Pretty orange color
If you'd like to see Furuba retold with a swap of ships - that's a great address to start!
Leorio cut his eyes down to Kurapika. He looked very elegant as always, one leg crossed over the other, the wine glass resting on his knee. Even before he was blinded by adoration, he always thought he had a perfect profile. A high forehead hidden under his bangs, long lashes framing his big brown eyes. His upturned nose was cute, he had a small pink mouth and a straight jaw. He could see his ruby earring glimmering through his golden locks. Leorio found he wanted to touch it, to bite it between his teeth and tug on it. He didn’t look annoyed anymore. His eyes had that faraway look as he watched the dancing that he only seemed to allow himself to have when he was with him, but Leorio could still never fathom it.
‘Kurapika.’
‘Yes?’
‘Do you want to dance?’
Kurapika looked at him, he wasn’t sure if his cheeks were pink from the wine or the request.
‘All right.’
They got down from their stools and Leorio took his hand. It was rough and warm and seemed to fit in his like it was meant to be there, but he was fighting not to read into every little thing as he led him onto the dance floor.
Kurapika was trying to seem composed, like this was nothing. He felt briefly worried about where his hands were going to go, but Leorio helped him, his magenta face set. He took Kurapika’s left hand and rested it on his shoulder, and his hand went to Kurapika’s waist, drawing him closer. The other hand he kept hold of, bending their arms.
‘Leorio, do you know how to dance?’ He looked up at him.
‘I used to dance with my mother, sometimes.’
Kurapika wasn’t sure what to do with this information. The vision of younger Leorio dancing around a kitchen with a faceless woman that was his mother was a little heartbreaking.
‘Just follow my lead.’
They just stepped from side to side, turning slowly like a wound up ballerina in a child’s jewellery box. With him leading, it was easy. Kurapika looked at Leorio's chin, he didn’t feel confident to look at his face. It was only the end of the first day, yet he’d already broken all his rules.
He’d never thought anything like this would ever happen to him. He’d denied it, ran away from it, tried to put it at the back of his mind because it was something he knew he couldn’t control. Yet he’d still come back to him again when he had nowhere else to go, knowing what could happen. Perhaps he was finally giving in to it because, just as in the Hunter’s Exam, he knew there was a time limit.
He lay his head on Leorio’s shoulder and closed his eyes.
‘Just let yourself have this. For a little while longer.’
A snippet from the latest chapter of my Leopika fanfic! It’s Leorio’s birthday tomorrow so want to give him something nice…💙 #leopika #leorio #kurapika #leorioxkurapika
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
A Prince ♥(⸝⸝⸝ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ᵕ ก̀⸝⸝⸝)ෆ #yukisohma #fruitsbasket #animeboy #princeyuki
Kyo ran his hands over the wisteria, watching it ripple under his fingers, thinking.
‘How much did you hear?’
Yuki appeared by his side.
‘All of it.’ he replied grimly.
‘Kyo-’
‘Stand here.’ Kyo took him by the shoulders and moved him in front of the flowers, holding up his phone.
‘You want to take a photo now?’ Yuki went pink. How did he get so nervous about pictures when he was so cute?
‘Purple is your colour.’ he said simply, staring at his face through the phone. The wisteria looked nice against his silver hair and pale skin.
‘We weren’t trying to keep it from you. I was going to tell you later, in private.’ Yuki kept talking as Kyo held his thumb down and took a burst of about 20 photos in one. He’d sort through them later.
‘It’s fine.’ He put his phone back in his pocket.
‘Is it?’
‘I mean, not really…even Shishou thinks that’s where I’m going.’
‘He doesn't want that for you though!’ Yuki closed the gap between them, squeezing his shoulders, ‘he's going to fight it, you must know that.’
‘I guess…at least if it doesn’t work out... with Isuzu here, he won’t be lonely.’
‘Kyo…’ Yuki grabbed his hand and pulled him up and into the shadows of the practice room, hugging him tightly like he thought he was going to disappear.
‘Are you all right?’ Kyo asked, confused.
‘No…’ Yuki mumbled into his shirt, ‘just, can we stay like this for a bit?’
From paper to procreate… I drew this during art class with my students and they were like who’s that and I was like it’s Yuki! And they were like he looks like a girl and I was like the best boys do 💜💜💜
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