I’ve Gained So Much Respect For Chan And The Humbleness He Has Shown. He Works So Hard, And Stray Kids

»»—cσυηт∂σωη тσ cнαηηιε’s вιятн∂αү—«« ⤷ 찬이의 “방” 🐺 ♡ D-6

phainon x gn!scholar reader, phainon is so in love and reader is oblivious

The Chrysos Heir is in love.

The moment Phainon’s eyes first met yours, there was a stutter in his heart, an indescribable feeling of reverence coupled with curiosity creeped into his being when he first met you.

Beautiful. That was the only word he knew at the time.

Your beauty was unparalleled, unmatched as you saunter into his view, mind not exactly present in the moment as your clothes swayed with your every hurried step. Your eyes were foggy, a testament to your dedication and work, evidenced by the tablet you held snug to your side.

He decides in that moment that he wants to know you, so he purposefully sets himself in your line of movement and waits for the moment when you bump into him, far too focused in a world that wasn’t the one you were presently in. Fate decided to be kind to him when you fall right into his schemes, allowing him to catch you with an arm secured around your waist, your tablet falling to the stone pavement with a dull smack.

“Oh my!” you exclaim. “My utmost apologies, I was not aware of where I was going-”

He smiles, for the last thing he was thinking of was your apology. Even your voice is beautiful, the words flowing into his ears like warm ichor.

“It’s alright,” he reassures with that smile of his, almost faltering when his heart skips another beat the moment your eyes flit to look at his. Phainon thinks he’s going to collapse to his knees if you glance away. “I’ll forgive you if you tell me your name.”

Unaware of his flirtatious intentions, you sound out the syllables of your name and he repeats it with much wonder. “What a lovely name. I’m Phainon, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The Chrysos Heir is in love.

It’s been two years since he first met you, and you are still just as enchanting.

He learns you are a widely renowned scholar and author, which explains the tablet you held that day. Of course, you were shocked the moment he uttered his name, for the titles of the Chrysos Heirs were well known, essentially common knowledge for those that flourished in the world of academia. Phainon still cherishes the memory of your expression, keeping it in the back of his mind and musing over it in private.

If you had known he was holding that over you, you would have thrown a slew of unpretty words at him with that pretty voice of yours, and he would have cherished them the same way he does with all of your works.

Whenever Phainon hears that your most recent novel has been released, he is one of the first to scour for it, reading it from start to finish within days. Even your publications from years before have a place on his shelves, there is no book of yours that he has not purchased and proceeded to read from front to back.

He insists on meeting you whenever he can, and while you answer a question he asked, he’s trying to keep his marvelling to a minimum, trying to keep these feelings from spilling all over you as he lets you know that his undivided attention is on you.

You’re skeptical of him. You wonder why he seeks your companionship specifically, what about you entertained him enough to invite you on market walks, buy your favourite drink from your favourite stall, and then sit on a marble bench in a quiet park underneath falling leaves.

As you’re busy pondering, he jolts whenever your thigh brushes against his.

The Chrysos Heir is in love.

His favourite time to admire you is when you’re deep in thought and unaware of the world around you, too focused on the wax tablet that sits on your desk.

Despite the practicality of papers, you tell him you like the sensation of writing on wax, how your pen glides along, all of your bursts of inspiration occur like this, so they hold a dear place in your heart. Soft chatter is exchanged, he tells you about his day, you share some idle musings about yours, then you let him know of the most recent developments of your work before he lets you write in peace.

Phainon tries not to stare too much, knows it’s unbecoming to do so, but he can’t help letting his eyes linger on you as your hand scrawls, occasionally taking a break here and there but never letting the train of thought end without it being recorded.

He could watch forever. He could be here forever, sitting in a comfortable chaise in the corner of your study, rendering himself invisible in your periphery as he just gets to exist with you.

The Chrysos Heir is in love.

It’s not widely known, perhaps less than a handful of people know, and it’s not because he has confessed it to them outright, but because they have caught on to the subtleties.

The company he surrounds himself with knows well enough about the scholar that has caught his heart, and how he refuses to run away. They give him teasing looks now and then whenever the prospect of romance and love is raised, and glance specifically at the light-haired when your name is mentioned in passing, not wanting to miss the softening of his bright gaze.

It’s even more entertaining because you are not aware of it.

You are not aware of Phainon’s awestruck eyes whenever he looks at you, how he leans closer whenever you speak, desperate to close the gap however he can. You are not aware of how he speaks your name so gently, as if wanting the wind to take the words away and to you so that no one else may hear. You are not aware of the little world Phainon lives in where it’s just you and him, existing together.

The rest of the Chrysos Heir hound after him relentlessly when they first discovered of your ignorance to his feelings, and now they make it their life mission to make fun of him for it, especially before you.

Phainon does not mind, well- tries not to, because he is in love.

As infuriating it is that you haven’t caught on, despite your immense intelligence, he waits patiently for the day you will.

Even though he yearns to declare it from the highest point of Amphoreus, that his very being has been seized by you, he is content with the quiet moments you share now, and he will happily take all that you give him, even if he wants more.

Phainon is in love.

© EARTHTOOZ 2025, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

ONE KISS LESS

feat. nagi seishiro x gn! reader

prompt: "bend down a little so i can give you a kiss." (requested by anon for my 1k event! i think nagi is a bit ooc here but you know it's fine)

nagi is a tall guy for someone who's just eighteen years old. you on the other hand was stuck with a short height, just barely reaching 5'2. although there were some perks to being short, nagi loves teasing you about how short you are.

for example, you were struggling with getting the highest cup on the shelf because someone decided to be an annoying little shit and placed it there. however, instead of helping you, nagi only leans against the doorway, stifling a laugh, and said, "you look funny trying to reach the cup."

you gave him the biggest frown you could muster, "shut up and at least help me? don't just stand there and laugh at me!" nagi didn't help you, and instead gives you a smile and leaves. you ended up having to use a chair.

however, nagi being taller than you also has it's own perks. he was able to fully engulf you in a hug when cuddling, scaring weird people off when they try to talk to you because he towers over them, and many other things.

"sei, do you need anything from the grocery store?" you asked as you put your shoes on. when you don't hear a reply, you turn your head to the couch nagi was sitting on and see that he was too focused on his video game.

you sighed and walked over to him and stood in front of him, placing both hands on your hips. "sei, did you hear what i just said?"

"mm? yeah, i did," nagi replies, though his eyes did not leave his phone. "ah, i died." he lets out a sigh and finally looks at you.

"so? do you need anything?" you repeat the question.

"no, don't need anything," nagi replies, letting his phone fall down to the empty space next to him. "you're leaving now, right? bend down a little so i can give you a kiss."

you blinked and let out a laugh. "pft, that sounds funny when you're the one who says it. usually i'm the one who says that whenever you're about to go leave for practice. no wonder you find it amusing."

nagi gives you a glare and stands up, immediately becoming taller than you. "so? kiss me."

"okay that's not fair," you lift your head, annoyed that nagi was now standing. "you can't just stand up after i just said that!"

"hm? i don't like sitting around all day though," nagi teases, and you can't help but want to smack him. "kiss me, y/n."

you grit your teeth in annoyance and instead of kissing him, you turn around and walked to the door. "if you don't need anything else i'm leaving."

nagi makes a sound of surprise and quickly caught up to you, grabbing hold of your wrist as a pout forms on his face. "you can't just leave without giving me a kiss!"

"you were being annoying so no thanks," you give him a cheeky smile. "so if you don't mind, i'll be going-"

nagi suddenly pulls you into a kiss, briefly catching you off guard. your eyes widened in surprise, and when he pulls away, he gives you a smile. "mm, you were saying?" you opened your mouth to say something, but all you can do is just gape at him, cheeks turning red. "what? cat got your tongue?"

"nagi seishiro, what the fuck!" you exclaimed, smacking his forearm (gently of course).

taglist: @hyomagiri @tim-shii @fallenssun @17020 @saetoshi @inariezaki @venusbby @piichuu @yuansen @yuquinzel ♡ (let me know if you want to be added or removed! mutuals only)

© ㅂㅇㅂㄱㅅ | do not edit. (1, 2, 3, 4)

dear, ♡

— cyno art

from helpless stares to sleepless nights, the ever-serious cyno finds himself dealing with the toughest problem of all: his feelings for you.

oh archon, just how did this happen?

CYNO X GN!READER ♡ MODERN AU, CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS!

chapter one — ruins

interlude, what you've done to me.

chapter two —

interlude, we're friends.

chapter three —

interlude, but i like your smile.

chapter four —

interlude, my youth.

chapter five —

interlude, my life.

taglist:

. . .

I was thinking....

5 years old Atsumu! that hates you because you punched him when he stole your games.

6 years old Atsumu! Who thinks you're the coolest around because you scared away the bully that made his brother cry.

7 years old Atsumu! Who makes you his best friends and he don't care if the other boys don't like him. You're still the coolest around.

8 years old Atsumu! Going to the volleyball camping trying to convince you to come too and not talking to you for a month because you didn't want to be there.

9 years old Atsumu! Crying so much that his mother got scared because you broke a bone while trying to get the ball down from a tree.

10 years old Atsumu! Wearing the shirt you gave him for his birthday for a week straight because it was the best gift ever.

11 years old Atsumu! Trying to sneak you out of detention after you made one of his teammate cry but you wouldn't say why you did it.

12 years old Atsumu! Convincing your mother to make you stay with him for a week while your parents stayed with your grandmother.

13 years old Atsumu! Laughing at Aran because he had a crush on you, his best friend and for sure not a cute girl.

14 years old Atsumu! Losing an important match and staying all day with you and Osamu, watching comedies and without talking to anybody else.

15 years old Atsumu! Stealing his father booze to try it with you and ending up throwing up while you lied to his parents to cover him.

16 years old Atsumu! Fighting with you because you didn't want to be the club manager and swearing he wouldn't talk to you anymore but ending in your club everytime Kita tried to make him clean the lockers.

17 years old Atsumu! Getting angry because while he was in the volleyball camp you stayed all the time with Osamu.

18 years old Atsumu! With a girlfriend but still jealous when the first year started to say how pretty you were and they tried to confess to you.

19 years old Atsumu! Fighting with you because you wanted to go to an university in Tokyo and saying horrible things to you.

20 years old Atsumu! Who has seen you just three times in the whole year because he found you talking with his brother but he was never sure of what to say for the first time in his life.

21 years old Atsumu! Getting dumped because he talked to much about you.

22 years old Atsumu! With a new girlfriend, finding you in Onigiri Miya to help his brother with work and talking again with you, smiling everytime like an idiot.

23 years old Atsumu! Coming with his brother to help you to move out of your apartment after you dumped your roommate, now ex.

24 years old Atsumu! Asking you out for the first time, tongue tied and legs trembling.

25 years old Atsumu! Getting drunk with you at his cousin wedding and asking you to move in with him.

26 years old Atsumu! Planing to propose after the Olympics.

27 years old Atsumu! Never been more sure in his life when he said yes during his wedding.

28 years old Atsumu! Being his brother bestman but flirting so much with you that everybody said to him to shut up.

29 years old Atsumu! Going off the airplane to find you waiting for him, hugging you and spinning you everytime, his nickname, loverboy, sticked to him for the fifth year in a row.

30 years old Atsumu! Making you pregnant during the Olympics, and having a little panic attack after discovering it was a triplet before deciding he wanted a full volleyball team.

31 years old Atsumu! Who decides that three kids where enough after the problems you went through during labor. Searching you every night to make sure you were still there with him.

32 years old Atsumu! Trying to teach his kids how to play volleyball.

33 years old Atsumu! Laughing his ass off with you after his kids traumatized Bokkun when he proposed to be their baby sitter for a day even if it ruined his romantic day with you.

34 years old Atsumu! Arguing with you because you took home a dog before the dog became his.

35 years old Atsumu! Slow dancing with you during one of his teammate wedding before getting drunk with you and remembering the morning after, when his sons jumped on him, that he was no more a twenty years old. Video of him hitting on you all the night while you tried to show him off because you were married went viral.

36 years old Atsumu! Thinking of renewing his promises because he loved you every day a little more and he wanted to marry you every day of his life.

I will read again when I have time to fix the mistakes

calm before the storm - some pre argument scenarios

prompt list by @novelbear

ranting to a close friend/parent about what they're upset about before they make confrontation just to make sure they aren't overreacting

blowing up their phone and receiving no answers (this either being the reason behind the argument or just adding fuel to the fire)

desperately wanting to be angry, but they can't push past the hurt they're feeling with the trust being broken

on the other hand, they're fuming because this isn't the first time

immediately driving over to where they are (even if this means embarrassing them in front of friends)

"why are you looking at me like that..."

taking a few minutes to calm down so that they don't explode the moment they start talking

"why do you seem upset?" "why the hell do you think..."

"when you realize what the problem is, then you can talk to me."

"hold on, that's not fair-"

"all you ever think about is yourself!"

sending the scary "we need to talk." text

trying to pretend that some jokes/comments don't bother them until one just finally goes too far

really trying not to say anything at first, but the other can tell they're upset by their mannerisms and try to find out what it is that's wrong

mutual friends alerting the other about something they definitely deserve to know

anxiously waiting for them to come home so that they could give them a piece of their mind

noticing that their concerns are blatantly being brushed to the side so they interrupt to try to stand up for themselves

"sit down for a sec, i need you to hear this."

his last unfulfilled wish.

— featuring. sunday x gn!reader

synopsis: before departure, sunday needed to bid you his farewell and make his silent amends, rather than leaving his emotions unsolved.

contains: 1k7 word vomit, 2.7 quest spoilers, angst (& fluff <<< clickbait), childhood bestfriend implication, messy emotions, minor character studies (if u squint), meeting you after he met robin first.

forenotes: sunday is such an overthinker and lana del rey coded to me. however i’m not content with how i write the siblings here so i’m sorry if it doesn’t sit right with you crowbie 😭😭

header img by 隐世樱yyy on weibo. kindest regards to my two pookies @akutasoda and @vxnuslogy for brainrotting with me and proof-reading this piece for me, i love yall so much!

🎼  — ( ding ding!! a message for crowbie @asundries / @rainswept the receiver! )

merry christmas my dear director crow :stares_at_you: are you surprised that i am your secret santa ? (somebody is definitely not ready for sunday angst as a christmas gift ngl.) BRO IT'S YOU HAHAH.

jokes aside for now... iko wants to say that she is very blessed to have such a wonderful friend like you to be around, she hopes your relationship will continue to thrive and maintain as you both step into 2025 ahead! with every kindest words and this piece dedicated to you, she is once again wishing you a merry christmas and a happy new year! xoxo.

“dear mr. sunday, you have now finally witnessed the sun, your wish has been fulfilled.”

in the seemingly deafening silence of the radiant orange-hued sky, sunday stood still.

“however, before you depart,” that indistinct voice was a light and gentle echo but felt dripped with sarcasm in his ears—he believed it was his heart that spoke. the wistful glint in his eyes betrayed the repetitive chant of his rational determination, sabotaging and leaving him slightly wavered about his predetermined decision.

“are you completely certain you would leave penacony behind without regrets?”

was a prime fugitive like him allowed the privilege of deciding such a personal matter? ironically, he wouldn’t want his answer to that question to be anything else.

“…no, i do not.”

not when he never got the chance to justify himself to you before the day he abruptly vanished. vividly, it haunted him—your sad smile haunted him, indicating that he once again had disappointed somebody, and it shocked him at how he never planned that ‘somebody’ to be you. (he never planned to disappointed anyone, really.) it was almost laughable at one’s stupidity, the one who refused to recognise that your reaction he observed this time was never akin to the momentary awkwardness in your voice caused by his usual polite and harmless nonchalance to your little silent declarations out of affection. he heard your love, yet he had never responded.

contrary to the cold and refreshing thin air it seemed, the tip of his tongue felt bitter. sunday knew it all too well. it was the guilt of turning you down and neglecting you for more significant matters that he grew tired of experiencing once more; typically, all of his doubts could only be dissipated as soon as the bright smile he adored written on your face not long later, you seemed to be unfazed quick enough—a truly admirable yet disheartening scene he witnessed; carefree and understanding, that was what you were. 

(sunday never admitted it but your radiant smile was the cause of the thumping heart in his chest, one that made his collected facade falter ever so slightly when looked at, and one suddenly brewing his stomach with guilt each time it didn’t match with your soulless gaze.)

sceptical, cunning man in the way he was, sunday was unsure if that was the very last time he ever saw you like that again after he had failed you so many times before…

you would come back, yes. that was what you’d always done, wasn’t it?

that was what you had always done.

not this time, though… you left him awaiting.

and when he was standing next to you in his cowardice disguise in the light but freezing-cold evening, admiring the way you blew out on your fingers gracefully, hot breaths turning into smoke, that breathtaking smile still, lips plumped red like roses in the white snow, the world stilled for a moment. (he wished it would last forever.) you looked happy and bright, he couldn’t search anywhere in your eyes for the adoration you once harboured, the one that used to be easily spotted every time your eyes met.

maybe you just didn’t know that the one you were conversing with wasn’t a mere dreamweaver.

maybe you still had feelings for him… maybe, it simply wasn't appropriate to discuss such private matters with a passerby, a fact he completely agrees.

but were you, though? after all this time? sunday felt his chest heavy. you were there, like a star within reach, but far enough to only be observed in the radiant sky. then suddenly and a little too late, it came to his perception that his heart had long been beating for you. and at the biggest loss of it all was he only realised, you and robin, were everything he had left. 

was he too late to make amends?

you were beautiful, he’d take that. not to mention the way your hand loosely clung onto the smooth material of your slightly worn-out scarf. a maroon colour that utterly complimented your skin tone, he recognised that scarf.

“you have an exquisite scarf… it suits you.” 

the dreamweaver couldn’t help the words that slipped “her” lips, “she” mentally cursed “herself” for saying such an odd thing, but your light laugh after the bewildered look you gave dissipated every quickened pulse of “hers”, completely drew all of “her” attention to your graceful demeanour, rather than what you were saying by the moment.

“xipe up above… please, hear my plea”

“it was a gift from an old friend, whom i really cherished.” the glowy tint of your lips arched into a thin smile, and, dear aeons… there it was, that same endearing look with so much stars swimming in your eyes. the look of love.

(two winters ago, your endearing shy look, heated cheeks as you reached out for the delicately box in his hands—a simple present for you for the first holiday ever spent together as adults, your fingers brushing against the comforting material as you opened it, eyes glimmered with joy. of course he remembered. that expression of yours imprinted in his mind, confused but amused at how his little gift has an effect on you, you were an adorable thing if he must admit.)

“forgive my desperation to sin just this one last time.”

“he went away for some reasons, i believed it was the same reason why my adoration was left unrequited,” you looked up at the sky, nostalgic. “it’s a little embarrassing to admit, don’t you think?”

at your simple and hearty laugh, sunday could only manage a silent shaky breath.

“please, xipe.”

“i do miss him, dearly,” you let out a light chuckle, nuzzling your face against the fuzzy fabric with the corner of your eyes crinkled. “do you think that i would be able to see him again?”

— “please for once, allow me to be deserving of them, to make amends for everything i’ve damaged”

with certainty, in his heart, that ‘everything’ was you. never one-sided, never unrequited.

sunday thought about you, ignoring the blooming feeling of overwhelmed emotions, his steps were restrained from approaching closer. but then your final question had the words die on his tongue, lingering like an illness that couldn’t be cure.

would your paths converge underneath the sun?

reality is different. having come this far, the boat that used to guide sunday here was burnt down, and there was no way of turning back.

“i miss you, too, dearly.” he wanted to say. 

“i like you” or “the feeling is mutual” even, and how he wanted to tug the strands of your hair behind your ears like he always did back then the moment he saw them fell out of place. but sunday was still a coward. he wondered if you hated him, that you couldn’t bear witness the person you love disappeared then reappear and just begging for forgiveness, it kicked at his dignity and insecurities. perhaps… this barrier between you both was comfortable alright.

“i think he misses you, too.” words emboldened by the sudden courage but soon deflated when “she” meet your observant gaze. yeah… how could a nobody be so sure about that?

“…my apologies, please forgive such an bold assumption.” “she” cleared “her” throat.

“it’s okay, i’m glad that you get comfortable when talking to me.” and sunday realised that he had lost count of how many times he was mesmerized by the melody of your laugh, your soft hum.

the small talk could last for an eternity, that was the greediest wish sunday allowed himself to yearn for. (he thanked xipe for that.)

“mr. sunday, are you ready to board the express?” and he peeked over his shoulder. welt yang, his companion by pure serendipity, stopping on his steps and looked at him with anticipation.

by now, the sun has dipped deeper and almost disappeared in the horizon, purple-blue hued vast sky sprinkling with faint streaks of stars, city lights awaken, leaving the man with the small void in his chest, half-filled. heart spoke otherwise but mind obliged to the better, but wasn’t “better” always hurt most? it was all over, it’s time to go.

you studied the way robin was blowing out smoke, panting softly as she ran over to you not long after the fellow dreamweaver left. the expression on her face was what you couldn’t decipher, a frown was written, her smile was filled with sorrows, and it made you fumbled.

“it seems like you have met her, too.” she sighed with a smile, adjusting her scarf, which was also a gift from her dearest brother. 

the dreamweaver did say an odd thing earlier before “she” departed, though. “she” claimed to only knew a thing or two about beliefs, but then you sensed the dejection in “her” tone before “she” clasped “her” hand together and seeming to close “her” eyes and wish despite the machinery face.

a mutter of sincerest apologies and best wishes for the person “she” wished to make amends to, followed by shaky chants of whispered please’s that sure was heart-warming. then “she” looked at you, “her” wistful and delighted expression was seen through somehow, how confusing, yet so beautiful and sympathetic. 

and when “she” changed her gaze elsewhere, speaking out her final words before silence settled in between the two of you again.

“they mesmerised me, i should’ve recognised that sooner” and you think that was heartening. that it was good for her.

“i’m glad” said robin.

“you’re… glad?” you blinked, didn’t hold a grasp on why she seemed happy about it.

the singer only chuckled brightly, she nodded.

“what a pity that the story of yours was incomplete…” she trailed off.

“…[name], your name has been prayed.” you didn’t miss the way her eyes softened, a glowing hint of wetness then she looked away. “for now, we must wait for THEM to cast an eye upon his unfulfilled wish.”

when sunday was down on his knees, you were how he prayed.

(lol u thought.)

© 2024 https-sourlimes. all rights reserved.

fruits basket ⇢ THIRD TIME’S A CHARM ft. hatori sohma

a three-step guide to hatori sohma’s heart.

wc: 3k

warnings: smoking. talks of soulmates but not really a soulmate au. f2l but you’re more like hatori’s annoyance (affectionate). he’s a simp in denial. fluff with one grain of angst. self-indulgent because i miss my seahorse bae

one: try to get into hatori sohma’s interests.

“i didn’t know you smoke.”

hatori turns to the sound of your voice and upon seeing your approaching figure, he instinctively scoots over to make room for you on the bench by the river.

“occasionally.”

“can you do that thing?” you raise your index finger to draw invisible circles in the air. “you know… smoke rings?”

“yes.” when your eyes light up, he quickly adds: “but i won’t.”

“you are not fun at all,” you tease lightheartedly.

for the first time since you sat next to hatori, you take a look at your surroundings—maybe it was the zodiac curse but despite the already bright green landscape made technicolor by the variety of flowers peppered among the trees and the glitters of sunlight on the clear blue waters, you don’t remember the sohma estate being so alive and vibrant.

bit by bit, you soak it all in before sliding your gaze over to the man beside you as he takes another drag. even with his somber expression, he still looks beautiful from behind the cigarette.

tearing your eyes away from him, you notice a pack of squares peeking out of his lab coat.

“can i try?” you ask.

hatori follows your line of sight and immediately shoves the small carton deeper into his pocket. “no.”

“why not?”

“it’s not good for you.” you open your mouth to protest but he interjects. “stop asking.”

“do one smoke ring then i’ll stop.” at your request, hatori looks at you as if his patience is wearing thin but you don’t budge. “if you never wanted to do it, you should’ve just told me you couldn’t.”

he pinches the bridge of his nose as he internally curses in frustration because you’re not wrong.

“fine,” he concedes, visibly against his will.

genuinely captivated, you keep your eyes trained on hatori’s lips, completely oblivious to the fact that his composed demeanor is now mere pretense and right underneath is a man extremely self-conscious and hyperaware of your close inspection. suddenly, his throat feels dry and his hands clammy.

he’s thankful you’re too preoccupied to notice.

forcing his thoughts away, he puffs at his cigarette and with his mouth formed into an “o”, he blows out a smoke ring. he waits until it fully takes shape in front of you before fanning it away, deliberately ignoring the awestruck gleam in your eyes.

“you have to teach me that,” you enthuse.

“i thought you said you’d stop asking.”

as a doctor, hatori is aware not only of the dangers of tobacco, but also the greater risks of secondhand smoking. and it’s his job to make sure you don’t suffer from any complication—not you in particular, he tells himself—so in spite of his cigarette still having a few drags left, he drops it to the ground and crushes it beneath his heel.

he’s just doing his job.

two: ask hatori sohma if he believes in soulmates.

shortly after sundown, swirly hints of orange and pink have begun mixing with the incoming muted shades of blue across the sky, the temperature of the wind dropping with it—rather rapidly due to the ocean breeze—but that doesn’t stop anyone from going for a swim, save for those dotted about the sand, and giving life to the seafront which only grows brighter due to the lampposts along the perimeter.

however, the oddness of your question pushes the scenery to the background as hatori searches your face for any telltale sign that you’re messing with him. you’re not.

“what brought this on?” he asks.

“just making conversation.”

“have this conversation with ayame.”

unable to count the number of times you’ve rolled your eyes at his curt replies, you’re surprised they haven’t stuck. “can you, at least, humor me?”

“no.”

typical, you think.

walking side by side along the boardwalk, you fall into silence that hatori quickly finds unbearable—which is ironic, considering he’s naturally a reserved man—so he gives in. “fine.”

something jumps in his chest when you turn to him, beaming, but he immediately shoves the feeling down before he can give it any thought.

“i don’t believe in soulmates,” hatori claims. “i think you choose the person you want to be with—or meet them through happenstance, even. but not fate.”

“so…” you drawl, a soft smile involuntarily tugging at the corners of your lips. “you spending time with me tonight—was it by choice?”

you choose the person you want to be with. hatori mentally kicks himself for letting the words roll off his tongue without a care. now you have him right where you want him.

“a coincidence,” he asserts in an attempt to shut you down, already predicting where you’re going with your ribbing. “you were alone and i happened to have some free time.”

“which you chose to spend with me,” you counter triumphantly but even the melodious laughter from your lips fails to blunt the daggers he’s now throwing your way. “okay, sorry. sorry. but assuming soulmates exist, who do you think you’d be with right now?”

“i don’t know,” he answers in one breath.

“what would you be doing right now?”

“i don’t know.”

“you’re the worst.” you huff, finally dropping the subject.

and he’s grateful because he’s lying.

he does believe in kismet.

bound by the curse for most of his life, it was as if he’d been walking on a path that was already carved in stone and waiting at the end of it was his fate with no one to share, only his for the taking—so like some sort of paradox, he refuses to acknowledge destiny altogether, even after the spiritual ties had already been cut. it’s all he’s ever known.

besides, indulging in the idea that something written in the stars could ever be within his reach—even if it was right in front of him taking after your image—is like setting himself up for heartbreak and disappointment.

and hatori sohma’s smarter than that.

three: say “i love you” to someone else.

“you’re quiet today,” hatori says.

“has shigure not annoyed you enough that you actually want me to talk?”

you know shigure hasn’t because he’s been gone for a while now, along with ayame, and hatori’s choice to stay behind is enough for you to assume his friends are up to some shenanigans he couldn’t care less about.

“you’re only half as bad as him,” hatori jokes, a small grin playing on his lips and you can’t help but smile back.

truth be told, your playful exchange can only do so much to mask your feelings until they threaten to spill out of you as soon as you open your mouth. and though you’ve surprisingly managed to keep them under control this whole time, it’s as if you’re constantly being pulled towards opposite ends of the spectrum.

hatori has his way of being within your proximity and still seem so out of reach—you’re never sure if he’s suffocatingly close or you want to be smothered by him.

but you can’t tell him that.

“i’ll just go for a walk,” you say instead.

the sudden announcement causes a look of worry to form on hatori’s face but despite the warmth blooming in your chest over his concern for you, you convince yourself it’s just the doctor in him.

of course, he cares. he cares about everyone.

“are you alright?”

“yeah, i just need some air.”

you leisurely tread the pathways of the estate, mentally counting your steps to keep your mind occupied but eventually losing track anyway as your thoughts drift back to hatori.

before you know it, you’re sat by the lakeside which you instantly recognize from the first time the sohmas took you to their family cottage for an outing.

“care to share the woes of your heart?”

the familiar lilt of ayame’s voice—and his dramatic language—soon echoes in the wind and a smile makes its way to your face, finding his theatrics somewhat comforting at a time like this.

sitting next to you, he asks again. “something on your mind?”

“it’s nothing.”

“perhaps this will lift your spirits?” he plucks a wildflower from the ground, presenting it to you. “may i?” when you give your consent, ayame delicately tucks it behind your ear, leaning slightly further as if to admire his work. “so beautiful and ethereal. truly out of this world.”

“stop.” you say, giggling as you take the flower out of your hair and lean on his shoulder. “thank you, aya. love you.”

ayame rests his head on top of yours. “i love you, too, darling.”

unbeknownst to you, hatori followed you quite shortly, unconvinced by the way you brushed off his concern. but he doesn’t expect to find you with ayame, lax and cheery as opposed to you being closed-off earlier—with him, the voice in his head adds and he wishes he could strike it off.

“can i ask you something?” hatori hears you ask his friend but it’s the familiar question which follows that has his ears perking up. “do you believe in soulmates?”

hatori’s not one to listen in on other people’s converstions so without waiting for ayame’s response, he heads back to the cottage, suddenly feeling like an intruder.

“i know that’s just your face but… why the long face?” shigure asks.

hatori groans. “shut up.”

whatever shigure is about to say dies in his throat as ayame enters through the front door alone.

“where were you?” shigure asks him, acknowledging his arrival.

“i was at the lake with y/n.”

“oh?” the former dog incarnate shoots hatori a knowing look, though he continues to address yuki’s brother. “and what were you two doing?”

“i was wandering around and found her lonesome. like a poor damsel in distress in need of a comforting shoulder so i let her take advantage of me.”

hatori winces at ayame’s ill phrasing. “did you have to say it like that?”

leaning closer, shigure whispers low enough just for hatori to hear. “maybe she needs your comforting shoulder, too.”

“i told you to shut up.”

hatori gets up to leave before shigure can get another word out—he knows shigure will get another word out. with no set destination in mind, his feet move on their own accord. soon, he’s at his usual spot by the river.

you cross his mind again. recounting the events from today, he fails to pinpoint what caused the shift in your demeanor—if he caused it. it only leads to more questions because what did he even do?

he pushes his thoughts away, reaching into his pocket for a cigarette to clear his head but when he sees you walking in his direction, he decides against it.

“why do i always find you here?” you ask as soon as you join him where he’s stood at the riverside.

“it’s peaceful.”

“i’m guessing shigure finally pushed you to your limit.”

“i spoke too soon.” his dry humor coaxes a chuckle out of you and it’s only then hatori realizes how much he missed the sound of it. “i saw you with ayame today.”

“he just stayed with me for a bit. seeing me all by myself must have been too depressing even for him.”

“are you sure you’re okay?”

“mhm,” you hum in confirmation. when hatori doesn’t pry further, you change the subject. “remember when i asked you about soulmates and you told me to ask ayame instead?”

“i remember.” and you did, he doesn’t say out loud.

“well, i did. and he does,” you tell him. “believe, i mean. he said meeting his soulmate would be a beautiful surprise—something about braving the search for the uncertain making the discovery all the more blissful.” you smile as you recall ayame’s words. you can’t fault him for his flamboyant idealism because you know he has a big heart to show for it—it’s who he is. “i know it’s ayame we’re talking about but i think it’s nice to believe in something like that.”

“do you?”

how a question so concise can hold so much weight, you don’t know. but something in the way hatori asks you feels like the load has been dropped to your chest.

i don’t believe in soulmates. to this day, you still hear hatori’s words loud and clear and it’s like your heart is going to cave in. because you do—at least, you want to believe in it.

“i don’t know... maybe?” you suppose that’s the safe answer. “maybe soulmates exist but not everybody gets to meet theirs. sounds unfair, doesn’t it?”

“you can’t let that hold you back.”

a chuckle erupts from your lips though the sound is free of humor. “i’m scared i’ll meet my ‘soulmate’,”—you air quote the word—“and they don’t feel the same way.”

“if they are what you say they are, i don’t think you should worry about it.”

“and if they’re not? i don’t know if i can handle that.”

hatori takes him time mulling his words over before settling on a response. “you can avoid it altogether but there’s nothing worse than spending your whole life thinking what could’ve been…”

you glance at his direction and catch him smiling to himself wistfully as if he’s reminiscing a fond memory. you wonder if he’s thinking about kana.

you’ve never met his ex-fiancée but from what you’ve heard, they seemed to be the epitome of fated lovers had akito not meddled. and as if the knife hadn’t been twisted enough, hatori was forced to erase kana’s memories—being the only sohma to possess that ability—to free her from the torment of her entanglement with the binds of his curse which, in turn, had become hers as well. all because she loved him sincerely.

without any recollection of her relationship with hatori, kana is now married to someone else and hatori seems to have moved on.

you look away from him, staring straight ahead and feeling ashamed because it feels so wrong to use that in your favor but…

“you think i should just go for it?” you ask hatori.

“i do.”

“even if it’s you?”

your voice comes out a whisper but the immediate hush from hatori, amplifying the tension encompassing you both tells you it’s enough to bring everything at a standstill.

the longer his silence drags on, the deeper your heart sinks. you can only wish that in its descent, it crushes the butterflies in your gut, putting an end to your foolish feelings once and for all. but you know it won’t.

just like how you’ve fallen for him, no depth is deep enough—your heart will just have to plummet endlessly. maybe time will numb you but you’re certain that one way or another, you’re always going to have love for him.

“this is the part where you tell me off,” you say in jest but it falls painfully flat.

“if i told you i feel the same way, would you start believing then?”

if it was possible for your entire system to shut down in an instant, you’re almost convinced that it already has because with your breath catching in your throat comes the pounding in your head that matches the beat of your heart hammering wildly against your chest.

you muster enough courage to finally look at hatori, almost flinching when you find him already staring at you. and with that, everything begins to fade out of focus until it’s just him—laying himself bare for the first time and yet, you’re the one who feels disarmed.

even at the zenith of your emotions, his touch still grounds you as his thumb gently swipes over the apple of your cheek. “you’re crying.”

“i’m nervous,” you sheepishly mumble.

“i think i’m the one who should be nervous. i heard you say you love ayame.”

you can never tell with the monotony in hatori’s voice so for a moment, you think he’s crushed but when you only find the affection he holds for you in his eyes, you decide to poke fun at him in your usual good-natured fashion.

“jealous?” despite the shake of his head, a smile creeps across hatori’s face. “he’s my friend, too. i do love him. and shigure. a little.”

hatori laughs—an actual laugh, you note—and closes the distance between the two of you, pulling you into his embrace as he presses a chaste kiss on your temple.

as infuriating as shigure’s teasing may be, hatori realizes it’s the little push he needed to take another leap. ever since what happened with kana, the notion of falling in love again seemed too big a risk but now standing on the edge with you, he doesn’t mind the free fall at all.

but hatori swears to die before he tells shigure. otherwise, he’ll never hear the end of it.

“i can’t believe you actually like me,” you mumble against his chest. “is it by choice or you know… ‘happenstance’?”

releasing his hold on your torso, hatori gently cradles your face in his palms, his purple eyes staring into yours so lovingly that it’s in full contrast with the words that come out of his mouth.

“i almost forgot how vexing you are.”

your smirk morphs into a full-blown grin. “you’re not answering my question.”

“figure it out yourself.” his words are muttered against your lips before he captures them with a kiss that swiftly grows in fervor, setting your nerves ablaze—and like ice to a flame, you melt into his touch.

the whole world is soon forgotten—just the two of you in motion as time freezes, giving way and lending itself generously to prolong this moment for your lover to commit to memory. perhaps this is the universe remembering what it owed him and handing it over on a silver platter.

there’s no more binding promise to tie hatori down but careful not to push his luck with jinxes, he doesn’t say anything definite. maybe it’s fate, maybe it’s coincidence, maybe it’s neither or both but one thing is for certain: hatori believes in soulmates.

how else would you have found a way to get under his skin and on his nerves then straight to his heart?

So a free tool called GLAZE has been developed that allows artists to cloak their artwork so it can't be mimicked by AI art tools.

AI art bros are big mad about it.