#bodyguard crush

[sabraeal]

Seven Swipes for Shirayuki, Chapter 6

[Read on AO3]

Obiyuki Trope Madness 2024, Semifinal #1: Bodyguard Crush

“Yuuta.” Names have never been Shirayuki’s forte; she struggles with Sarah and Sara, crosses her fingers when she comes across a Siobhan or a Ciaran, and now labors to decipher whether this is a ‘u’ sound or an ‘oo’ sound— gosh, it might even be a ‘uu’ situation, which is a whole other disaster entirely—

“Does he have a last name to go with that?” Obi murmurs, just loud enough for her to catch it. Well, so she hopes. “Or maybe you could just ask him for his number. Skip the whole swiping song-and-dance and just get down to—”

“Could you spell that for me?” she asks, a hair louder than necessary, hoping her smile doesn’t flicker under pressure the way old fluorescents do . “The patient’s name, I mean.”

“Oh! The…the patient’s…” Her well-meaning visitor shuffles, pink flaring up right under the spray of small freckles across his cheeks. It really is just like being back at the old B&B again, trying to smother a laugh as the sweet retriever from down the street keeps bringing back the wrong ball. “Right, of course. You need the patient’s…god, sorry, I wasn’t even thinking…”

“Happens all the time.” She bites back a smile as pink blooms into carnelian red. “We don’t tend to see people at their most put-together here.”

“Haah, right, makes sense.” His tanned hand digs into the tousles mass of his hair, sending it wild. It's a charming look, she has to admit. Makes her wish there were Beggin’ Strips for people too— he looks like he could use a treat. “Just feels a little stupid, that’s all. Not like you could look me up. In a patient registry, I mean.”

“You got a Tinder, though?” Obi crosses an knobby ankle over his knee, pant leg riding up enough to show the chili peppers on his socks. “OkCupid? Plenty of Fish?”

"Uh." The man blinks, first at him, then at her, as if she might confirm that this line of questioning is somehow part of the official visitor registration process. It's not. “Y-yes?”

"Ooh?" Obi pitches forward, fingers poised over the app store. “Which—?”

“Obi.”

“What?” Having reached the end of his leash, her wayward hound finally comes to heel. With a tug of his coat, he slouches back, not a hint of contrition lingering in that smirk of his. “I was just wondering.”

She lets her glare do the heavy lifting as she repeats, “What was the name again?”

“Ah, my dad’s? Katsu. Katsu Baudin.” The man coughs, clearing his throat. “And I’m, uh, his son. Yuuta.”

“We know,” Obi chirps helpfully as she puts in her login. It shouldn’t work— IT’s supposed to update the registry at midnight, and she’s been legally off payroll for three days— but the system only takes a long, hard think and rolls over, displaying patient information with the same enthusiasm as a dog wagging its tail. “With two ‘u’s?”

“Uh…”

Her visitor— Yuuta— glances at her, but she’s too busy tallying the number of security and privacy regulations violated to give him much more than, “Katsu Baudin, Room 7760.”

There should be some palpable relief on the air, or at least the barest whiff of gratitude, but instead their wayward visitor shuffles awkwardly behind the counter, not flushed but— strained, maybe. “Um, sorry, I don’t mean to be a pain or anything, but do you think—?”

“Two floors down.” Wistal is hardly as labyrinthine as Wirant— built into a hill, each wing designed to be the magmum opus of architects thirty years apart, resulting in atria so beautiful they graced the covers of Architectural Digests and hallways so nonsensical as to be be hostile to human life, with entrances on every floor between the first and the fourth besides the third— but with each level laid out exactly like the last, it’s easy to get turned around. “If you go straight out from the elevators, take your second right. 7760 should be down that hall on your left.”

“Ahh, right, thanks. That’s…a huge help.” He hesitates, gaze fixed down the hall as if it were a thousand yards instead of five. His fingers fingers drum nervously on the counter top. “I don’t want to— I mean, it’s just—”

He hangs his head, dark eyes huge and pleading as they peer up from under that fluffy flop of hair, as helpless as a dog that’s found a door it can’t nose open. “I suck at directions.”

It takes every last ounce of her self control to keep only the corners of her mouth twitching. “That’s no problem at all. Just let me call down to their desk and give them the heads up that you're coming. Then you can go there and have someone take you right to the room.”

“Oh!” His head snaps up, eyes so wide she can nearly see a waggling tail behind him. “You can do that? Er, I mean…I wouldn’t want to put you out…?”

In Wilant there would have been some grumbling, some pointed questions about just how many times his parents had dropped him on his head as a child if he couldn’t go two floors down and take a turn without getting it all twisted, but here—

Shirayuki glances across the hall, catching a flash of pale hair above a designer button-down, of a profile that has graced more covers of GQ than she’s got fingers on one hand. As exceptional as Izana is, she doubts that’s even the most impressive statistics on the floor. There’s a husband just around the corner she’s pretty sure has a collection of Super Bowl rings. Recent ones, considering all the rubbernecking outside their door.

“They’re used to worse,” Obi offers, so helpful as he scrolls. “A little hand holding isn’t going to break the scale.”

Yuuta blinks down at him. “Er, all right. If you’re sure.”

“Please,” he scoffs, slouching further into the ergonomic plastic. “Unless you’re bringing your mistress to watch your wife go through labor, no one's even going to—”

“Just a minute!” Shirayuki smiles as she picks up the phone, refusing to acknowledge anything over her shoulder. “Let me see what I can do.”

*

There may be no phone trees or music on internal lines, but there’s still plenty of waiting, especially with no voicemail for stale calls to be shunted to. Still, it’s only a few minutes before someone picks up— a nurse fresh from shift change, happy to take of ‘that old charmer’s baby.’ Watching Yuuta’s back disappear into the elevator makes a nice ending to an unplanned long night, and Shirayuki—

“What, you aren’t going to go with him?” Obi leans back in his chair, straining the ergonomic claims of those cushions. “Make sure the prodigal son makes it back home? Maybe hold his hand a little?”

“I think he’ll manage just fine.” She blows out her cheeks as she sits, letting her mouth settle into her sternest frown. “Now, I trust you deleted that thing?”

“Me? No. I’ve swiped right on three real studs already. And let me just say” —he presses a hand to his chest, the silk of his tie rumpling under the pressure— “I chose better for you than you choose for yourself.”

“Obi!” It’s a strangled noise, one she just barely keeps to quiet-hours guidelines. “I told you that I wasn’t interested in—!”

“Trust me, Miss,” he soothes, entirely too smug. “You’ll be interested in these guys. Or at least their traps.”

“I thought we agreed that—”

“We didn’t agree on anything.” His eyebrows may twitch up to angelic heights, but his attempts at innocence are ruined by the downright sly curl his mouth takes. “You said I should, and I declined to take your advice.”

All at once, the fight seeps out of her, leaving only the weariest sigh in its wake. “Obi…”

“Aww, come on, now, Miss. No need to go borrowing trouble yet. It's not like you've matched.” His lips twitch. “Yet. But let’s be real, who could say no to a knock-out like y—?”

“You are going to delete that,” she informs him with all the authority of a limp dish rag. “Right now. While I can watch.”

“Aw, Miss,” he whines, using only the most pitiful pitches. “I’m just helping.”

Shirayuki stares. “You think this is helping?”

“Of course.” His shoulders twitch, halfway between a shrug and a shield. “What better way to recover from a bad break up then having someone blow out your—?”

“Ah, no!” Her hand flies up, the flimsiest barrier between them. “Don’t— don’t finish that thought.”

“But, Miss—”

“I appreciate your…consideration,” she informs him, gracious. “Really, I do. But I think that maybe you and I process this sort of thing differently. Very…very differently.”

“I didn’t say you had to jump right into bed.” Though he sounds dubious on that order of operations. “But you could let someone take you out, treat you right. And then maybe on date three, you—”

“Three?” It’d taken almost six months for her to even kiss Zen, let alone even think about the sort of activities that might require the removal of clothes. And by then, it took them three months of planning to even get them in the same room. “Do people really…?”

“You know how it is, Miss.” Obi’s sprawled across the chair, lounging in a way its ergonomic bullet points were never supposed to accommodate, but there’s nothing casual about the way his eyes settle on her. “People are busy nowadays. Not much time to take it slow.”

“I have time.”

Shirayuki nearly jolts straight out of her chair. “Ryuu?”

*

(Shirayuki’s not given to believe in the supernatural— not ghosts, not ESP, not sixth senses that seem to only work in hindsight— but she’ll give Yuzuri this: her ability to locate her anywhere in this rabbit warren of hallways is downright occult.

“Have I got the goss for you, girl,” she squeals, stealing a baby carrot out of her lunch box as she slips into the empty seat beside her. It’s all empty seats in the break room right now, but Yuzuri rolls even closer, voice pitched low. “Word on the street is that Ryuu’s got something going on with the new intern.”

“In Imaging?” It’s hard to picture her— she’s a shy thing, always disappearing behind a white coat as a cart turns a corner, just a blonde ponytail above pink scrubs. “I guess they’re around the same age.”

“Same age,” Yuzuri scoffs, gnawing on her ill-gotten gains. “Is that what you think people care about? The same age? No, this girl is like…his type.”

That doesn’t sound quite right, not to her ears. “I don’t really think Ryuu has—”

“Of course he does. Everyone has a type, Shirayuki, even you.” Her voice drops to mutter something that sounds suspiciously like, “Even if you don’t realize it.”

“I just mean that Ryuu hasn’t shown much interest in…anything like that.” Romance, she means. But if she says it, Yuzuri will probably counter with something about sex, and quite honestly, she’s not sure if she can handle Ryuu and... and that idea in the same sentence. “I’m not really sure he wants to, either.”

“Yeah, yeah, normally I’d agree with you,” Yuzuri says with a dismissive wave. “But this girl is like, smart. And super cute. Like freckles everywhere! And her laugh— seriously, you have to hear it. He like, smiled and stuff.”

Well, the smile is a start. “Is that what his type is? Smart and cute? Freckles?”

“I mean, basically right?” Her hand flop open into something between a slouch and a shrug. “That’s what you’re like.”

It’s a good thing there’s no silverware involved in eating hummus, otherwise it would have clattered to the floor. It’s sad enough that she’ll have to toss out this baby carrot casualty. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, you know how it is,” Yuzuri presses on, as if she didn’t just drop a detail more devastating than an atom bomb. “It’s not about you. It’s just that every guy wants to fuck their mom or whatever. Freudian stuff.”

Shirayuki has opinions on Freud— capital ‘O’ Opinions, as Obi likes to call them, along with, the kind that don’t get us asked back to the country’s finest conferences— but all she can manage is, “I think I’m more like a sister than a mother.”

Yuzuri shrugs. “Same difference.”)

*

“Ryuu.” Her hand slaps to her chest, as if that might keep her heart beneath it better than own her ribcage. Which might be true, from how hard its pounding to get out. Shirayuki can hardly blame it. “What are you…? Ah, I mean, were you…?”

It’s still strange to have to look up to meet his eyes, to see the way his face furrows with the beginnings of annoyance. “It’s now or not until after four. Should I come back?”

“Wha— oh, the ultrasound.” Now that she’s on her feet, she can see the cart at his side, loaded up with one of the mobile units he must have requisitioned from Imaging. “Are you doing it?”

“I said I would.”

There’s no humble shrug to go with his words, no inflection to imply emotion, just a simple recitation of the facts. “Well, yes, but I thought you would have one of the techs on shift come up and—”

“I had time.” His shoulders settle into stern angles as his chin lifts, as imperious as any MD. “Is there a problem with that?”

There’s a half dozen, starting and ending with how he’s the Attending today; someone who has a thousand more pressing responsibilities than doing some investigative ultrasound for her patient. But as much as she might try, the words won’t stick together in her mouth, won’t let her make anything but the most unconvincing sputter. “N-no, it’s only—”

“Aw, come on, big guy.” Obi saunters up to the counter, elbow brushing her shoulder as he furls himself up for a lean. It’s nice; steadying. “You know there’s no one else Miss would trust to do this more than you. But don’t big shots like you have busy schedules? I wouldn’t think you’d have the time to come help little old us.”

A stubborn red that clings to the tips of his ears. “As I said, I do. Is it in that room, there?”

His head bobs toward the door. There’s no one behind the window now, just a straight view from hall to window, blinds strung tight across the glass.

“Yes, 9060.” He’s already wheeling the cart towards it when she adds, “Izana should be with her, too.”

The cart squeals to a stop.

“Oh.” His knuckles blanch so white she can see bone where they grip the handle. “Then maybe I should come back. Later. After…”

He doesn’t finish the thought. Shirayuki frowns. “I don’t see why. Is there something wrong with—?”

“Oh, I get it.” Obi’s smirk stretches long into a leer as he leans toward her, voice pitched to be heard as he whispers, “I think he’s afraid of Her Majesty. Intimidated by laying hands on America’s Sweetheart. Little too famous for his blood, I—”

“I didn’t say that,” Ryuu grumbles, sullen. “I’m not laying hands on her anyway. It’s only the probe that will—”

“So it’s His Majesty then,” Obi amends, so considerate. It’s a struggle to keep her mouth from twitching, giggles straining behind her teeth. “Can’t say I blame you for that one, little guy. That guy makes me break out into a cold sweat.”

“I’m not afraid of Izana Wisteria.” The name snaps between his teeth, cold. “I just thought that if she has a visitor, she might not want to be interrupt—”

“You know, Miss.” It’s hard to call something as languid as Obi’s lounging aggressive, but that’s what it is— weaponized slinkiness, the way a cat weaves through legs at dinnertime. “If Ryuu thinks that this is too rich for his blood, you should really just get someone else to—”

“I’m doing it.” The cart squeals as it angles toward the door, wheels grinding with the same single-minded focus as Ryuu’s teeth. “I— I’m already going!”

He doesn’t so much march as storm over, shoulders hiked like pickets by his ears as he knocks at the door. “Excuse me,” he says, swinging it open. “Name and birth date, please.”

It shuts before she can hear Haki’s answer.

*

“Boo.” Obi doesn’t so much sit as he does slump, a puppet with all his strings cut. “He coulda kept that door open a smidge longer. I've heard that America’s Sweetheart fudged the date on her birth certificate to get that role in Mean Girls.”

“I doubt that.” Shirayuki spares him the flattest stare, fingers striking the keys with a pointed power as she logs out from the system. “Her family’s a big deal, aren’t they? Hollywood Royalty, isn’t that what Yuzuri called it?”

“Miss.” His shoulders shake along with his head. “Only you could ask if the Arleons were a big deal.”

Years ago she might have blushed, might have stammered out excuses about the how cable didn’t run out that far until she was in college, and the combination post office/movie theater in town only ran movies two years out of date, but now— now she simply says, “That proves my point, doesn’t it? There were probably newspaper articles about it. An entertainment Weekly birth announcement? Something. It can’t be much of a mystery.”

“There was also some website that counted down to her eighteenth birthday.” He shrugs, casual, as if that isn’t the most horrifying thing he’s ever heard. Then again, knowing Obi, it probably doesn’t even make the top thirty. “But you know, once you get a thing like that in your head…”

He lets his grin do the rest of the talking. Like all of his outrageous behavior, she simply ignores.

“Thank you for that, by the way.” One of his narrow brows hikes up toward his hairline, and she clarifies, “With Ryuu. You’ve always known how to handle him better than I do.”

“You do just fine.” The seat creaks as he tucks his thigh against its arm, elbow lazily hooking over his knee. “He just needs a little heat to get him into the kitchen sometimes. And you’re not someone who’s comfortable with turning it up. Especially when it comes to Ryuu.”

Shirayuki doubts her interns would agree with that particular assessment, but she simply says, “Thank you anyway. If you hadn’t been here, I think we really would have been waiting until four.”

Obi hums. “Oh, I’m not sure about that, Miss. Seems like you handled it just fine the other day.”

She blinks. “The other day?”

“You know.” His shoulders twitch, the laziest suggestion of a shrug. “Ms. Luteal Cyst?”

*

(The cart wheels catch on the threshold, casters making a nasty ka-crack as they struggle over the metal strip. The noise alone has got her grimacing, but when she sees the close-cropped dark hair, so like Obi’s now that all the curls have been left on the barber shop floor, her mouth pulls thinner still.

“Ryuu.” He’s supposed to be on days this week— at least according to the schedule posted up in the break room— but yet he’s here, wincing as the last wheel wails across the floor. Ah, and he’s gotten the squeaky cart. “I didn’t think you’d be…?”

In, she wants to say, but doing the tech’s job keeps trying to elbow its way out at the same time, and instead the question just hangs, awkward.

“Oh, Shirayuki.” He blinks, first at her, then as he leans out the door, as if—

“This is the right room!” she assures him, a laugh startling out of here. “It’s just a slow shift, so I though I might keep my friend here company while she waited.”

“Oh.” The girl sinks further into her pillows as he stares, withering under the stern furrow of his brows. Shirayuki’s half-tempted to tell her that it’s not personal, that without regular reminders, Ryuu’s face defaults to forbidding. “The gel’s going to be cold.”

“I-I don’t care.” She lifts her chin, defiant; a challenge if he means to make it one. “Anything’s fine as along as my baby’s okay.”

Ryuu shoots her a wary glance across the bed— don’t let this girl have emotions on me, it says, loud and clear— before he turns back to the computer, fingers clacking pointedly across the keys. That leaves her to help the girl lift up her johnny, rearranging blankets and drop cloth so her legs and clothes are covered, terrible mesh underwear and all.

“I’m surprised to see you here.” The words might be for Ryuu, but Shirayuki keeps smiling down at her patient, trying to keep her in the conversation. “Usually we don’t have doctors doing untrasound, but Dr Goldregen sometimes helps out when there’s a bit of a scheduling back up—”

“Or when the tech no-shows.”

Her smile stiffens. “O-or that.”)

*

“Ah…” Shirayuki shakes her head. “That didn’t have anything to do with me. Mihaya was late for shift change—”

“Must be nice to have a wing of a hospital named after your family,” Obi muses, head tilted over the back of the chair. “Then you can just waltz into work at any old time, and everyone just says ‘thank you for your time.’”

“I don’t think anyone says that to him,” she snorts. “And he does a passable job when he’s here, so—”

“So no one can fire him.”

Shirayuki struggles against a smile. “So no one can fire him. Ryuu just got here early for shift change and saw there had been a request pending for over an hour. It had more to do with being efficient than helping me.”

Obi hums, unconvinced. “I think you underestimate just how much that kid likes to please you. Maybe he didn’t know it was your patient or whatever, but I bet he showed off once he knew you were there. Probably had good bedside manner and everything.”

*

(The girl yips at the first touch of gel on her stomach, but Ryuu doesn’t even flinch, already pressing the probe down to spread it around. “It’s cold!”

He sends her a sidelong look. “I did warn you.”)

*

“Not…measurably.” It’s effort to keep her tone even. “Ryuu respects my opinion, but he’s really not the sort of person to give special treatment just because—”

“I’m done.”

“Ryuu!” Zen used to joke about putting a bell on Obi— or at least he did, before Obi sent him an Amazon link to a few human-sized collars— but Shirayuki is beginning to wonder if they might need to find one for Ryuu. Last thing they need is for him to startle someone into coding. “A-already?”

He nods. “One sac.”

Shirayuki frowns. That’s hardly what she expected. “Are you sure? Sometimes it’s tricky to see if—”

“I checked for a posterior placenta too.” His shoulders twitch, the barest shrug. “Sometimes hyperemesis gravidium is just hyperemesis gravidium.”

“I guess.” There’s just something unsatisfying about saying it’s hormones; something that feels dismissive rather than diagnostic. “I just could have sworn…”

“What I said before.” Ryuu clears his throat, looking like he’d rather be anywhere than right here, standing in front of the nurse’s desk. “About not doing it again.”

“I know, I know.” She sighs, waving a hand. “It was already kind of you to do it this time— and personally too. I won’t ask again.”

“No, that’s not…” His lips press tight, a white line cutting across his face. “I mean, I’ll do it, if you really need it.”

She blinks. “Really?”

“In a few weeks,” he tells her, stern, as if she might turn around and tell him to go back in there. “There’s things that might not show up now. Rare things. But…things.”

“That’s really kind of you, Ryuu.” For anyone else, she might reach out— pat their shoulder, shake their hand— but for him, she just smiles. But the way he straightens, it’s enough. “But I’d hate to bother you after—”

“It’s not a bother. If you think something’s wrong, I believe you.” It’s been ages since he was the boy genius, a teenager that trembled when he walked onto the floor. But there’s shades of it now in the way he looks at her, gratitude and trust and affection all tangled up into something that makes it hard to look away from his too-blue eyes. “Garrack always told me that you have good intuition. My own experience agrees. It would be foolish to deny that based on something so subjective as statistics.”

It must be a little too earnest even for him, since he shakes himself, quickly adding, “I have other things to do today. Goodbye.”

He rolls off, squeaky cart wheel wailing, and all she can do is stare at his back.

Obi snorts. “No special treatment, huh?”

She’s not sure how to answer, but she’s saved from having to figure it out when Obi’s phone blings obnoxiously. “What’s that?”

He glances down at the screen, mouth unfurling into a terribly devious grin.

“Why look at that, Miss,” he drawls. “Looks like we got a match.”

[claudeng80]

A Home Worth Mentioning

Temeraire AU, before The Surgeon's Lover

“You’re not going to be comfortable,” Obi says, not for the first time. He has all the straps necessary for a dragon to carry a woman in a skirt, but it’s never as safe without a leg-harness. The seat-harness means she won’t be able to move her legs for hours.

“I don’t care,” Shirayuki says, and he’s never heard her so quiet. Even the flame of her hair seems muted here, under these clouds so far away from the covert.

“You can’t possibly expect her to change here, in that villain’s sight,” Persia adds.

“I don’t mean-” Behind them, the gray stone bulk of Tanbarun house looms squarely. Nobody is in sight, not since Lord Raj and Mr. Sakaki marched back in after their perfunctory goodbyes. But Obi didn’t get where he is by picking unwinnable fights. “As you wish, my lady.”

read the rest on AO3

[kirayaykimura]

Inns and Outs

The thing about staying in inns with Obi, Shirayuki has noticed, is that almost everyone assumes they are together. As in, they would obviously like to share a bed. Which, honestly, Shirayuki wouldn’t be opposed to, but Obi seemed very set against it the one time she offered. 

“We’ve slept in the same bed before,” she’d reminded him when she sat down on their single bed and he made a comfortable nest out of pillows and blankets on the floor. 

“That was different,” he’d said. “Everyone else was there, too. Also, I did not sleep that night.”

So she didn’t push the issue when an innkeeper assumed they would only be needing one bed and Obi rattled off a bizarre story about having pugilistic sleeping habits, or when he declared that they were actually bitter exes forced to travel together one last time so Shirayuki could claim her rightful inheritance due to a small clause in her grandfather’s will. She also does not push the issue when Obi wistfully tells their current innkeeper, “I’m just the bodyguard. Wouldn’t be very appropriate to share a bed,” though she wants to because he isn’t just her bodyguard. He hadn’t been in a very long time, and it worries her to imagine he still thinks of himself so. 

The woman behind the desk raises an eyebrow. “Just a bodyguard, are you?” 

He laughs, delighted by her skepticism. “Now, ma’am, whatever could you mean by that?” 

“If I had a bodyguard who looked like you, and looked at me the way you look at her,” she says, turning her attention to Shirayuki, “I wouldn’t make him get a second bed is all I’m saying.” 

Obi heaves a mournful sigh and says, “Ah, damned by my own eyes. You caught me! I’m hopelessly pining. Take pity on me and don’t make me share a bed with the love of my life who does not love me back. It would be cruel.” He gave her a slight pout to really drive the point home. 

Like consciousness on the edge of a dream, Shirayuki brushes up against something that she could understand if only she could reach out just a little further, hold onto that thought a little longer. It slips away again when the innkeeper says, “Alright, then. Two beds it is. You’re wasting him, though.” 

Obi laughs. Shirayuki blinks. 

Once in their room, they settled into their separate beds. Obi on his back staring up at the ceiling, Shirayuki feeling a little like she’s trying to get away with something when she curls on her side to look at him. In the soft moonlight barely able to break through the clouds and their window, she can just make out Obi’s profile, the curve of his chest, the lean line of his stomach, legs that disappear under covers. When she looks back up again, she finds him staring back at her. 

“Can’t sleep?” he asks. 

She doesn’t know how to respond. There are so many thoughts, most of them confusing, floating around in her brain at the moment. She’s afraid that if she opens her mouth to speak, something nonsensical will come out like, “I want to see your knees.” In the end, she shakes her head, burrowing slightly further into her pillow. 

“Hey,” he says. “Everything alright?” 

Of course he would notice. To not worry him, she finds her voice long enough to say, “Yes.” 

He turns his head slightly to look over at her, clearly unconvinced, and says, “If this is about what happened earlier, it was all a joke, okay? You know that. I love messing with innkeepers.” 

“I know,” she says. She did know. What she had no clue about was why it made her feel so off. With a good night’s rest, though, she should be right as rain. Resolving to put the conversation to bed with herself, she turns on her other side and says, “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, miss,” comes his soft reply. 

That night, she dreams of hands reaching out but never touching. And fish for some reason, but that probably has nothing to do with anything. 

[ruleofexception]

Keep me sharp and test my worth in blood

Have Faith In Me - A Day to Remember

Chokehold - Sleep Token

Your Guardian Angel - The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

Follow You - Bring Me The Horizon

Saviour - Black Veil Brides

Never Let Me Go - We Came As Romans

Fallen Angel - Three Days Grace

Alkaline - Sleep Token

Every Time You Leave - I Prevail

Safe & Sound - Tonight Alive

[jhalya]

Date night revelations

Surprise! Here is my entry for bodyguard crush! A bit limey, but most of all, kinda funny. Enjoy!

[mochinek0]

Daminette December 2023: 17-Bodyguard

Damian had heard the whispers and rumors when he first moved to Paris. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the baker's daughter and fashion designer had been head over heels for Adrien Agreste, the model. That had been years ago. Some of their friends refused to believe she moved on from her gigantic crush. He had heard the whispers of how she babbled and froze with just a glance. How she had memorized his schedule and planned their future together. He had heard how she had fallen for him with a simple gesture of giving her his umbrella in the rain. The only thing that had ever stopped them from getting together was how blind Adrien was. He never saw Marinette was anything more than a friend and everyone knew it. That might have been true; all of it. Damian knew that Marinette no longer felt like that, if it had ever been true.

From what he observed, Adrien was the one now persuing the baker's daughter. If any of it had been true, Marinette had long moved on. Adrien was constantly trying to get her attention and would search the halls for her. If anything, the roles had reversed. Adrien Agreste now stalked Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Adrien Agreste was still 'blind' in his book. The model took zero notice how Marinette reacted to being around him. He noticed the subtle flinches when Adrien called her name from down the hall. He noticed the terror in her eyes, before putting a smile on her face to greet a friend.

Damian froze the moment he saw her.

'Marinette? What is she doing here? I thought she couldn't have a pet in the bakery. Why is she in the pet store?'

His eyes followed her as she moved away from the front and towards the middle. She was almost hidden by the shelves.

'Hamsters?'

"Marinette!" Adrien shouted, "Do you like hamsters, too?"

"Uh, sort of." she answered, weakly.

"They're amazing!" he cried back, getting closer to her and the hamsters.

Even from where Damian stood, he could see Marinette's eyes were searching for a way out; an exit. He quickly put down the giant bag of dog food and rushed over.

"There you are Marinette." he spoke, pulling her towards him.

"Damian!" Mari exclaimed, surprised.

"Did you get lost?" he asked, "I apologize for getting so busy."

"You work here?" Adrien asked, "Why?"

"I volunteer." Damian answered, "I donate to several animal charities nd I like to make sure all the equipment is up to date."

"We can go see the puppies on files now." The Wayne heir suggested, "You said you were looking for a guard dog?"

Marinette lit up quickly, realizing Damian was giving her a way out.

"I'm so glad you remembered." she smiled.

"A dog?" Adrien asked, confused, "What about the hamster?"

"Oh." Mari spoke, "Well, I do think hamsters are cute, but with how scattered brain I get, I might forget instantly. I could forget to feed it or accidentally kill it with a giant roll of fabric." causing the model to wince.

"A dog is better." Marinette stated, "Their routine would be my routine."

"But why a guard dog?" he questioned.

"Why do you have a bodyguard?" Damian asked.

"Huh?" confusing the model.

"Guard dogs keep their owners safe." the Wayne heir answered, "They are loyal to a fault and will attack, if necessary." pulling Marinette closer to him.

Marinette blushed at the closeness. She quickly placed a hand on his chest to get his attention.

"We should go look at those files." She suggested, "You mentioned....training and I wan to make sure they are trained before university."

"Of course." Damian replied, leading Marinette to the back room and away from Adrien's prying eyes.

Damian picked up a radio to give the other workers a warning about Agreste. On the security cameras, he watched as the blonde model turned away and walk out the store.

'Seemed Marinette was his only goal here.'

Marinette sighed in relief as Damian placed the radio down.

"Thank you, Damian." Marinette spoke.

He nodded his head in understanding.

"But how did you know?" Mari asked.

"You are uncomfortable with him." Damian stated.

Marinette nodded her head.

"You look scared when you hear him call out your name in school." Damian spoke, "Sometimes, you turn pale. Doesn't seem like he notices."

"I thought no one noticed." Marinette answered, with a smile, "Thank you so much."

Damian chuckled, "Now, would you actually like a guard dog?"

"I would love one," Mari sighed, "but since I still live with my parents-"

"The bakery." The Wayne heir concluded.

She nodded her head and gave a shrug. Damian went over to a drawer and pulled out some files for an adoption event taking place soon. Marinette looked at him confused.

"It would not matter if I brought another dog home. At this point, it's expected. You would just have to wait." Damian stated.

Marinette smiled happily, "Really?"

"Only if you do not mind coing over to bond with your dog." he declared.

Marinette hugged him and quickly felt him flinch.

"Sorry!" she cried, pulling away from him, "Um, I'll just look at these."

Marinette browsed over the files he had handed her. Damian could tell she was seriously considering the guard dog idea. She started by ruling out the smaller dogs, he expected someone like her to own. By the end of her selection, she had five folders left.

"What do you think, Damian?" Mari asked, "Is there any of them I should rule out?"

Damian looked over the folders. There was a Labrador, Golden Retriever, German Shepard, Doberman, and an Akita.

"Two of these would make great pets, but not guard dogs." He spoke, "I believe you should look online and learn more about them before deciding. You need to make sure you can take care of them. I don't just mean their diet and health. There are many people who return animals because they have gotten bored or because they didn't expect how much time they would have to use to train it."

Marinette smiled, "Thank you. I can tell you really care about these animals. I can let you know by the end of the week."

Mari stood up, ready to leave. She bit her lip in hesitation.

"Are you alright?" He questioned.

"Um." She began, "Nevermind. It's stupid."

"What is it?" Damian asked, "You clearly think it is important. Why do you hesitate?"

Marinette blushed, "Do you think, until I get a guard dog- Can you be my guard dog? Bodyguard! I meant bodyguard; not guard dog! At school! Keep Adrien away from me?"

Damian chuckled, "I wouldn't mind at all."

Mari lit up at his response, "Oh! I can bring you breakfast! Are there any pastries you prefer?"

"I prefer savory over sweets." he answered.

"I can make savory tarts for you." She replied.

With a nod, Marinette left the back room and quickly left the store.

'Guard dog, huh?'

Adrien looked around and spotted Marinette already at school. He couldn't wait to see her and talk to her more about hamsters. As he made his way towards her, he watched as she made her way over to Damian. To his surprise, and likely everyone's surprise, Marinette latched onto his arm. Damian didn't seem to mind and led her away.

Damian smirked as Marinette latched onto his arm. He had seen Adrien arrive and watched as Marinette quickly made her way over to him. He hadn't expected the physical contact, but after he initiated it yesterday, she likely expected it. Damian quickly led her away from prying eyes and hushed whispers. As they walked away, he leaned down to her ear.

"Woof." he barked.

He hadn't expected her to squeak, let alone blush. He chuckled as Marinette puffed up her cheeks and let go of his arm. Cheeks still flushed, she hurried into the school. Damian turned back and caught Adrien staring at them in shock. Damian sent a glare his way before following after Marinette.

TAGLIST: @maribat-calendar-events @animeweebgirl@a-star-with-a-human-name@meme991001@vixen-uchiha@abrx2002@alysrose-starchild@fandom-trapped-03@dood-space@moonlightstar64@saltymiraculer@marveldcedits20@09shell-sea09@icerosecrystal@animegirlweeb@insane-fangirl-of-everything@blueblossombliss@nickristus-dreamer@megawhitleycalderonpaganus@missmadwoman@meira-3919@princessdaisysolosyourfaves@blep-23@fangirlingfanatic@darkhinauniverse@ravenr22@im-a-satanic-ritual@ravennm84@bianca-hooks123@a-slytherinish-gryffindor@starling218

[doortotomorrow]

LUNYX Final Fantasy XV / Kingsglaive

[cassiopeia-grimm]

These gifs and photos do not belong to me, all credits go to the owner.

[xinnamonbun]

Payjay Wedding! :3

@pencilgutz here's your fooooood :3

This was genuinely SO fun to draw. At first I was obsessed with trying to make this really polished since I was kinda making it as a gift- but around halfway through I kind of realized that I was having a blast just...doodling! So the end product ended up being a bit messy, but I think it ended up making it look more different. I'm not even going to lie the lack of people in the chairs was genuinely laziness on my part. But you can just say that this is a wedding photo that was taken after the ceremony.

Alts!

Some headcannon stuff for the wedding below the cut!

Venue stuff:

Genuinely, I think it would be hilarious if all of this happened right behind the hotel- just getting married right outside your house. TBH it would also be a pretty good excuse for most of the Inanimate Insanity contestants to come.

Roles?:

Grooms: Paper and OJ (duh)

Best man: Knife (paper)

Maid of Honor: Soap (oj)

Ring bearer: Cherries

Flower girl: Yang (he volunteered)

Groomsmen: Pickel, Bomb, Baseball, Silver Spoon

Groomsmaids: Candle, Taco (if post show) (idk who else-)

Groomsmate(s): Paintbrush

Photographer: Trophy

Caterer: Suitcase and Balloon (I love you guys but I swear; FLOUR NOT FLOWER-)

Drama (at this point it's like a mandatory thing at weddings): Salt. SALT.

After-party:

Knife and Baseball have to drag Salt out for wearing white (among other things). Test Tube catches the bouquet. She wasn't even trying to it just landed on her. You can decide if Suitcase and Balloon ACTUALLY make the cake properly.

[meownotgood]

bodyguard aki... whew.... he's always at your side and you know he's strong enough to protect you, yet still he's stern to everyone else, and the absolute sweetest to you... so kind, always looking out for you more than his job requires, willing to listen to your personal matters or be a shoulder for you to cry on. he opens doors for you, holds your hand as you step out of your limo, extends his arm for you to hold onto when there's a crowd... you trust him more than anyone in the world...

[sabraeal]

Seven Swipes for Shirayuki, Chapter 5

[Read on AO3]

Obiyuki Trope Madness 2023, Semifinal #1: Bodyguard Crush

It’s not quite a scowl that scrunches the space between Ryuu’s eyebrows, but it’s a kissing cousin; frustration and fondness stirred together to make a cocktail of expression uniquely for her as he stares down at the request.

“She’s ten weeks.” His thumb idly taps the screen, thoughtful. “She’s already had one by now.”

“And she’s due to have one again at twelve, I know, but--” Shirayuki leans over his shoulder, tapping at the line that reads Hyperemesis Gravidarum: Active-- “you and I both know what this means.”

“One sac at seven weeks, one heartbeat.” A sigh saws out of him, his patience worn as thin as his sleeves at the elbow. “I know statistics too.”

“Seven week ultrasounds are notoriously inaccurate,” she scoffs, shifting her wait for the long haul. “There’s a reason half the doctors here don’t bother unless there’s complications. It’s fine enough to date a pregnancy, but even then...”

It’s impossible not to know the reputation Ryuu’s made himself in the ward-- a hardass, Obi’s so quick to remind her, proud-- but Shirayuki never really remembers it. At least, not until his shoulders set as stiff as the mattresses, expression as forbidden as any Haruka’s fixed on her. “Shirayuki--”

“You know I’m not implying technician error.” Not due to lack of skill, at least, though she doesn’t think he’d appreciate the distinction. “But pregnancy isn’t simple. There’s plenty of ways even the best tech could have missed something that early.”

He stares at her, an unmovable object. “I wouldn’t know.”

Good thing she’s got practice being an unstoppable force. “What could it hurt?”

“Nothing,” he admits, too easily. “Except that she had her last sonogram here. If I order another, I would be directly overturning the opinion of the last technician.”

“Ryuu.” Her hands hook on her hips, taking a breath to blunt her impatience. “We’re all professionals here. No one is going to take it personally if you check their work due to new information.”

He might an adult now, old enough to buy his own drinks at hospital happy hour, but his pout-- even as he tries to hide it behind the monitor-- is all teenager. “You can’t promise that. People are very erratic. The last thing I want to do is make enemies of--”

His train of thought stops dead on the track, attention fixed to a singular point on the screen.

“Never mind,” he says, opening the order. “I’ll do it.”

Shirayuki blinks. “Are you sure?”

“Sure,” he agrees, closing out the screen. “The queue’s full this morning, but I’ll see if someone can fit her in around the scheduled patients.”

“Ah, right, of course.” She grasps for something to say, something that isn’t what changed your mind, and settles on, “Thank you.”

He glances over the screen, mouth still stretched thin. “If it’s one sac, you won’t ask me again, right?”

“Er...” Shirayuki’s stared down deans and hospital board members alike, but Ryuu’s tone makes her falter, left-footed in face of his displeasure. That is, until his mouth twitches, straining against the angle of a smile.

“Right,” she says, flushed with pride. “I promise I’m not wasting your time, doctor.”

Ryuu ducks his head, making a show of crossing his t’s and dotting his i’s, but through that thick morass of curls, the tips of his ears are stained a painful pink. “Well, y-you don’t have to call me that.”

Ryuu’s hardly out of sight when Higata whistles, eyebrows hovering just under his hairline.“Well, well. Been a while since I’ve seen the Rules Lawyer handled so quick.”

Shirayuki’s not in the habit of scolding on the floor, but she clucks her tongue, disappointed. “That’s not fair. You know Ryuu just wants to be taken seriously. It’s hard to be the Attending when you’re practically the same age as the interns.”

“Of course I do.” All her worries are shunted off with a wave of his hand, someone else’s problem. “I’m just saying, he’s not going to make any friends if his back’s always up like that.”

Kazaha surfaces in her mind, unbidden. “Ah, yeah, that’s...possible.”

Higata hums at the precise pitch of mischief. “I wonder what made him change his tune, though? You know how he gets about imaging. Never likes to overturn anyone’s work.”

A dozen reasons crowd her mind: His best friend is a tech, and no one gives him any respect. He nearly mastered out of his degree entirely to join imaging so he could deal with computers instead of patients. He’s only here because Kirito told him he’d like to work under a doctor like him--

But logic turns to excuse the minute it leaves the mouth. Shirayuki knows that all too well.

“Let me just..” A few keystrokes-- and an interminable wait-- and Higata’s eyes bulge. “Oh.”

“Hm?” She leans over the station, craning her neck to get a glimpse. It’s the ultrasound, one sac and the barely-there beginnings of a baby, but more importantly:

Technician, it reads, Sisk, M.

She grimaces. “Ah.”

“Yeah, that’d do it.” A few more keystrokes, and it’s gone, Higata shooing her back patient-side. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure this goes through before I’m out the door. Whoever I hand the baton off to will make sure to sit on imaging until they send someone up. Last thing we need is the CEO of this place raising a stink.”

“Oh, there’s no need to--” Shirayuki blinks, blearily watching as he goes through the motions she used to know so well. “You’re on nights.”

He hikes his brows at her, the way he always did when she’d been on shift too long; a silent, maybe you should be using the on-call room.

“Ah, right, you’ve been with me...the whole night...” she murmurs, wishing she had enough sleep for that to be an inside thought. “And if Ryuu’s here...as the day shift...then...”

“Then that means you’ll probably miss me, so long as America’s Sweetheart can keep some crackers down.” There’s no one who can wear mischief the way Obi does, like it’s a design suit tailored to fit every curve, but when Higata glances up from his station, a corner of his mouth quirked-- he comes close. “Unless she’s impressed by my dedication and debonair smile. Then maybe we might be coworkers again.”

Her own smile takes a similar slant. “That’s not a bad idea. I could use another set of hands. And I’m pretty sure that pool house could fit half the ward.”

Higata snorts, shaking his head. “Don’t let that mutt of yours hear that. He’ll be giving me grief for weeks about elbowing in on your love nest.”

She knows all it does is muddy the high ground, but Shirayuki’s been up too many consecutive hours to even try to stifle her sigh. “That isn’t what it’s like between me and--”

“It’d be nice to get back on days,” he murmurs wistfully, ignoring her. Typical. “The quiet’s nice, sure, but it’s hell on the social life.”

“Oh?” It’d never been easy to give up her daylight hours, especially when she’d lived at a latitude where she could get to her shift when the sun went down and still have night to burn twelve hours later. But socially...? “Are they?”

Higata stares at her, the way Obi does when she mentions she’s never seen a Marvel movie. “Shirayuki, are you--?” He shakes his head. “Right, of course. You probably wouldn’t have noticed with that VIP you were dating. Guys like him don’t wake up before noon.”

It’s habit to get her hackles up, to mount a high horse and ride to his defense. All her excuses marshal themselves in her mouth, ready to deploy at first breath: celebrities have a different schedule, most of their days don’t really start until after six, it’s hard to balance a nine-to-five company with a position that relies on hobnobbing after hours--

But she swallows them down, trying not to taste the bitter. That’s not her job not anymore.

And clearly, a voice that sounds far to wry to be her own hums in her ears, the left hand never really knew what the right was doing anyway, hm?

“Guess it’s good you make your own hours now, Ms. Private Practice.” Higata’s brows waggled far too suggestively. “You’ll need to be keeping the same hours as the rest of the plebs if you’re going back into the dating pool.”

There’s too much to take in there, too much that makes the static in her brain sound like screaming, and all she can do is blurt out, “Doctor.”

“Oh, forgive me,” he drawls. “Doctor Private Practice.”

Her problem is typically too many words, all of them trying to jostle out her mouth at once, but right now--

Right now, they’ve all abandoned her.

“I just...” She licks her lips; just one night of recycled air and already they dried, ready to crack. “Did I say I was going to...to be dating again? Or did someone else--?”

“Nah. You’re just a cute girl in a city with the largest amount of singles per mile. I figured you’d just jump back in the pool.” He slants her a sly look. “I mean, after the way you handled 2203 a few weeks, I figured...”

(”Good morning!” Shirayuki hums as she reaches for the chart. A the corner of the screen, the time flashes: 3:31, too early. “Technically. I’m Dr. Lyon, the OB on shift tonight. Can I just get your name and date of birth?”

“Amaryllis Elise.” The girl practically blends in with the sheets, her knuckles clenched so tight over her belly Shirayuki could use them for anatomy models. “April fifth, 1999.”

Shirayuki tries not to choke. Ninety-nine. The chart said the patient was twenty-four, but, ah, she hadn’t know they made twenty-four so young nowadays.

“Is this your first baby?” she asks, keying in her login. The monitor spikes as she types, BPM 120 flashing on the screen, poised like a breath before a scream. With practiced flick of the wrist, she mutes it before it starts. An alarm’s the last thing this girls needs going off right now. “Are you nervous?”

“It’s just-- is everything okay?” Fear makes her eyes wide and watery, flinching as Shirayuki’s fingers key in her data. “I had...there was some blood, right after they found the heartbeat, but they told me that was normal. But now it’s the third trimester, and that’s-- that’s bad right? Something’s wrong.”

The monitor spikes up to 125. Somewhere done the hall, the nurse’s station blares with it. That’s the worst part of being patient-side, really: no privacy.

“Not necessarily.” With a few short strokes, the wait list for imaging rolls across the screen. NEXT IN QUEUE: 2203, it promises. Cold comfort, when every minute without answers would be agony. “Most pregnancies that make it to third term are going to make it all the way to full.”

“But it’s so much blood.” The girl practically disappears beneath that johnny, her voice so small she can hardly hear it over the ward’s mechanical hum. “Did I do something wrong? I thought...I was being so careful. I don’t even eat deli meats...”

It’s hard to toe the line between lie and comfort; Kazaha would tell her, just say what they want to hear, it’s better then them getting hysterical on you. He’s backed up by a set of guidelines as thick as her wrist, all advising that she prioritize keeping the patient calm over keeping the patient informed, right down to suggesting it’s kinder to suggest a chemical pregnancy over a miscarriage.

Sometimes, Opa would tell her, tinkering with the old Ford in the garage, people think so much about what’s easy and safe, they forget it can be cruel.

Shirayuki pulls her hands from the keyboard, fixing her gaze right to where the girl lays huddled in the bed. “It’s always scary to see blood. And it’s even scarier because it’s taken so seriously, especially this late in the game, right?”

She nods, her hair getting even more tangled on the pillow.

“But the truth is, there’s so much that could be going on in there, and most of it just means we has to reassess our timetable for your pregnancy.” It’s Oma that Shirayuki summons up now, hoping her smile radiates even a fraction of the warmth she remembers. “I know you can’t help but worry, but I promise: it’s far more likely that you’ll both be fine.”

The girl considers that, fingers splayed over her belly. “But someone has to be unlucky, don’t they? That’s how statistics work.”

Shirayuki smothers a frown. “Did you say you has someone coming? Your--” she glances over at the screen-- “boyfriend?”

“No.” She shrinks under the sheets, looking younger by the second. “He doesn’t have enough PTO to cover something like this and still be at the birth. And my mom--” she grimaces-- “my mom would not be helpful right now.”

“Then here.” The rooms in this ward are huge, private, and thankfully full to the brim with comfy chairs. Shirayuki steps out, hooking ankle around one to catch her as she sits. “I’ll wait with you.”

The girl goes bloodless. “Oh, god. That’s bad, isn’t it?”

Shiaryuki blinks. “Excuse me?”

“You want to wait with me.” A trembling hand drapes over her ashen face. “That means you think I’m going to lose the baby, right? That’s it’s something so terrible, I can’t be--”

“No! No.” A laugh escapes her, breathless. “That’s not it at all. I just...I know when I’m left waiting, I convince myself of all sorts of terrible things. When I was doing my rotation in Infectious Disease, I coughed in the shower and convinced myself I had pertussis for the whole night.”

There’s no hint the girl’s heard her, but her BPM drops, just a bit.

“That’s the worst part about being a doctor,” Shirayuki confides, leaning close. “You know all the things that can go wrong.”

Beneath her hand, there’s the faintest hint of a smile. “I just have an over-active imagination and WebMD.”

Shirayuki lets herself take a page out of Obi’s book, letting half her mouth slant into a rueful grin. “Lucky.”

The smallest, thinnest giggle spools out of the girl, there and gone before she knows it.

“But seriously,” she says, letting her smile rest at its usual angles. “There’s no secret hint that’s something wrong. I promise, I’m only here because I don’t have anything better to do, and I hate waiting alone.”)

“2203?” Shirayuki frowns, confused. “What does that have to do w-with dating?”

Higata sighs, stretching as he gets to his feet. “I’m not talking about dating. I’m talking about the other stuff. That you, you know, could have some of that in the cards for you.”

It’s not often that she experiences déjà vu, and certainly not for a phrase like, “Having a luteal cyst?”

Obi’s typically the on on the other end of Higata flattest, most unimpressed glares, but today he saves one just for her. “Let’s be real, Shirayuki. Statistics say you’ve already had one.” 

Ah, well. He does have her there.

Higata waves his hand, annoyed. “But I’m not talking about that. I meant the other thing.”

She blinks. “What other thing?”

“Oh, c’mon, Shirayuki,” he sighs. “The baby.”

(The girl nods. “Do you...do you think it’s okay? The baby, I mean.”

Shirayuki takes a deep breath. “I think you’ve done the right thing, coming here. And that’s all you can expect yourself to do.”

There’s a little more color in her now, no longer stark white but an ashen sort of tan. “Do you have kids?”

It’s hardly the first time she’s been asked, but still, it catches her left-footed. “Ah, no. Not right now. I’m not-- it hasn’t been the right time.”

Between medical school, family death, residency, and Izana, there’s barely been time to breathe, let alone think about something like-- like that, but that’s hardly something she needs to bring up with a patient. Especially when Obi could be lurking around the corner, ready to seize on any tender feeling and discuss it down to the bones.

“Oh.” Dark eyes round, pretty now that they’re not glassy with fear. “You’re so good at this, I would have guessed you had a bunch. You’re like, mom-material. You know, warm, I guess.”

Now it’s time for Shirayuki to stare, her hands limp where they lay on her lap.

“T-thank you.” It’s silly how much it means to her, being warm. That even for one minute, someone could feel about her the way she does about Oma. “I’d like to, probably. Maybe in a couple years, it’d be nice...”)

There’s no reason for that to make her flush, for her to feel like she’s stripped her naked on the maternity floor. But she does, crossing her arms over her chest as she murmurs, “I m-meant if Zen and I-- if we ever--”

She shakes herself. “I don’t need to date for that anyway! I could just adopt. Or do IVF if I could get the time off.”

Higata huffs, brows lifting straight to his hairline. “Or you could look around and see there’s a perfect sperm donor right--”

“Hey, Miss.” A paper cup slips into her hand, warm where it’s cradled between her palms. She barely has time to appreciate it before Obi slides up to the nurse station, splaying an arm across it like he owns the place. “Hello, nurse.”

Ah, there’s a flat look. “Oh, you’re still here.”

Obi presses a hand to his chest, rumpling the silk tie hung loose around his neck. Framed by his fingers like it is, it’s impossible not to notice the dubiously professional amount of tentacles on it. A gift from Suzu, if she was going to risk a guess. “As if I’d stray from Miss’s side.”

Higata’s mouth quivers. “Well I suppose if you’ve got to have a dog, it might as well be a loyal one.”

“Woof woof,” Obi agrees with a grin, and honestly, she’ll never quite understand how stand around and insult each other is the basis for a friendship, but somehow these two have made it work despite six years and three thousand miles between them. “Heading out already?”

“Turns out there is sleep for the wicked, so long as they’re unionized.” Higata leans down to close out his station, tension falling from him with a sigh. “I just have to get through shift changeover, and then I’m out. I better not see hide nor hair of either of you when I get back tonight.”

“No problem,” Obi promises. “I plan to wear out our welcome by noon.”

Higata’s barely turned the corner when Obi leans in, grinning as he tells her, “Eighteen.”

Shirayuki blinks. “What?”

“Eighteen,” he repeats giddily. “That’s the number of hours you’ve been a free agent.”

It takes her a whole minute to parse his meaning, staring into his broad teeth the entire time. Goodness, she really needs to check out the on-call. “I already told you, that was over a week ago.”

“Sure, sure.” He waves a hand, unconvinced. “Whatever you say, Miss.”

Most days, she would happily admit to enjoying her bodyguard’s company, but today-- well, if she has to go through another round of assessing how daddy anyone in her acquaintance is, today will not be one of them. “If you don’t believe me, I don’t know why--”

“I do.” He says it earnestly enough that it draws her up short. “But the timing’s not the point though.”

“It’s not?”

“No. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been.” She’s almost touched, until he yanks his phone out of his pocket, brandishing it menacingly. “It’s time for you to rebound.”

“Oh.” She squints, recognizing the logo before her eyes can parse the word. “T...inder?”

That grin of his widens, just an inch short of being Cheshire.

“Oh! You-- you kept that?”

He scoffs, one finger flicking across the page. “What, like I would delete this carefully crafted profile? Painstakingly created by yours truly, just for such an august occasion--?”

“You should have,” she squeaks, heat flooding her face. To think, he kept that all these years-- “Give that to me!”

Her hand snaps out, trying to knock it from his loose grip, but even with the element of surprise, Obi’s too quick for her. With the sort of grace only cats and former hitmen have, he slides it right out from under her fingers, hovering barely an inch away.

“Now, Miss,” he admonishes, his grin giving away that he loves the chase. “That’s not very nice.”

She leaps again, stepping so close her shoulder bumps into his sternum, but this time he lifts it, giving the phone a little wiggle above his head. “I was in a-- a relationship! What if Zen had found--?”

“Then I think the bigger question would be why bossman was--”

She jumps, fingers just brushing the bottom of the case, but it’s too high. And when she comes back down, well--

Obi’s arm clenches around her waist, holding her steady. “Careful there, Miss,” he breathes, wide-eyed. “Last thing I need to explain to His Majesty is why Doctor Humpty Dumpty can’t put his personal physician back together again.”

Braced against his chest, she can feel his heart race beneath her palm. “Fine. But you’ll delete that won’t you?”

The weight slung around her waist disappears as if it was never there in the first place. “Aw, but why? This is the perfect time to--”

“Ah.” A soft, masculine cough cuts through Obi’s theatrics. “I’m sorry to interrupt. I just, er...”

Shirayuki looks up, right into a dark pair of eyes that would be right at home on a golden retriever. An anxious one. “Oh, I’m sorry, can I help you?”

“Ah, yes, I was just wondering...” He can’t be much older than her-- the perfect first-time dad age, Obi had said once, mostly to needle her-- his hair blond and tousled the way everyone’s is out here. “My father was checked in here last night.”

“Your father?” A nurse wheels a woman behind him, belly so distended Shirayuki’s half afraid she’ll tip right out. “Here?”

“Ah, yeah, I think I wrote down the wrong room number?” His fingers tremble where they splay on the desk, like he’s trying his hardest not to drum them. “Do you think you could, um...?”

That’s, apparently, all the words he has. They just run out as he stands there, his mouth still moving but only air coming out.

With this little sleep, she has to admit, it’s kind of charming. “I’m not the nurse, but--”

“Oh!” A flush flares at the collar of his v-neck. “Oh, sorry, I just assumed, since you were here... and the scrubs...?”

She catches her laugh before it can escape containment. “No, no. I’m a doctor.”

“Oh,” he moans, mortified. “I’m sorry. That was-- I’m really-- ugh--”

“Not here though. Private.” If she were Obi she’d lean in a little, giving him a sly wink, but instead she settles on her warmest smile. “But I do know some people on the inside. Let me get someone to look that up for you.”

“Ah...” On anyone else, that toss of his hair would seem confident, but on him it’s just nervous, like a horse after a lightning strike. “That’s really...I mean, that would be great. Thank you.”

It’s an effort not to giggle, but she manages to ask, “Name?”

“Oh!” He clears his throat, blush working its way up to his ears. “It’s, um. Yuuta.”

[manitapaleta]

Oh yeah I drew short haired lark the other day **shapeshifts into Itachi Uchiha** to measure my abilities

[kirayaykimura]

Novelty

Obi couldn’t remember a time when he could rely on anyone but himself. His father died when he was too young to really remember what life was like with him in it. His mother, as far as he knew, was never in his life to begin with. He had no siblings or extended family to run to. It was just him and whatever messed up approximations of family members he picked up while surviving. Women who liked to call themselves big sisters promising to teach him how to get a free meal out of a wealthy sucker. Men who pretended to be uncles while talking Obi through where to stab a man in the neck so he couldn’t cry out for help. “Family” he sure as hell didn’t trust to have his back when the going got tough. Which worked out just fine for him because he sure as hell didn’t want to risk his life for any of theirs. 

Shirayuki was a novelty. 

She hadn’t done anything specific to make him trust her. She hadn’t seemed to care in the beginning. She’d been focused on her work while he’d been a minor annoyance in the background of her days. He watched as she’d been driven and steady. She was who she was every hour of every day. He was so used to people who said one thing and did another that he found himself watching her, half intrigued, half waiting for her to slip up. No one could be that principled and that straight-forward all the time. She had to have a hidden flaw somewhere. 

She did not, as it turned out. Well. She had flaws. She was damn stubborn and never took her own safety into account and didn’t stretch when she was working until she got a cramp in a random muscle that forced her to take a much-needed break. None of those were hidden, though. She never pretended to be easy-going until she dug her heels in when faced with a cause she truly believed in. She never hid any of her personality behind a shiny, distracting exterior. Honestly, it made him want to press for more information, to see if she’d ever press back. 

This was not a purely scientific endeavor. He could admit that to himself. He was not the scientist in their little arrangement and he’d been through puberty. He knew what it meant for his eyes to be drawn to a woman’s hair in the sunlight. He knew what it meant when he got distracted by the way her fingers curled around vials in the apothecary. He knew what it meant when he suddenly found himself wanting to be seen instead of wanting to hide every real part of himself away, however much of that he had left. 

It was a crush. Pure and simple. He had a crush on Shirayuki. She was unique and so many of his days in the castle revolved around her. It was bound to happen, and it would fade in time. He just had to get used to her first.

[rosaacicularis]

scarian bodyguard au

[gunsatthaphan]

“I’m not going anywhere”

[the-cookie-of-doom]

For all Chay says that kid!Kim is staying behind to protect him, it ends up the other way around in the end. Kim has already killed, but he’s still a kid, he’s still scared, and that should never have been his responsibility to begin with. So Chay is going to protect him, probably kill for him, and both kid and adult Kim are going to go a little bit insane about it