I usually reblog a lot of anime related contents, seiyuus, writing prompts, the good stuff. Here is where my crazy mind comes to play so it gets pretty random sometimes... Have fun guys~!
gavis bettel talks about the ongoing tumblr poll!!
(disclaimer: this is all in good fun - bettel doesn't care about winning and neither do i. but we would all be thrilled if people came by and checked out his streams on youtube!! we have a silly goofy time over there)
link to his channel:
Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce myself, I am Gavis Bettel!
Please hold your applause until after the show.
Full-time Fool of HO
summary: zayne catches you being a little unfocused because of his hands...
word count: 998
author note: the spirit of the 2005 pride and prejudice mr darcy hand flex scene possessed me when i wrote the ending of this fic. i hope you enjoy zayne's shenanigans <3
Although Zayne is an expert at controlling his reactions, he can’t help but smirk when he notices your gaze flick between the page of your book and his hands. You thought you were being subtle. Sitting beside each other on the couch, him absorbed in note taking and you feigning focus in reading, should have given you enough cover to allow for your sneaky glances. However, the surgeon trained in detecting even the most minute abnormalities can sense your eyes lingering for a second longer every time.
One, two, three, four seconds. Zayne counts in his head.
From his periphery, it’s obvious how your head slightly turns to the left. He finds it cute how determined you are to try to hide it. Untucking the hair behind your ear to cover your eyes, flipping the page every now and again to shift suspicion away. He considers whether he should say something.
One, two, three, four, five seconds.
“How is your reading going?” He asks.
He puts his pen down and uses his thumb to massage the heel of his opposite palm, alternating between hands. He wraps his left hand around his right wrist, holding it in place so he can rotate it to release a few cracks. Every movement is slow and methodical. Nothing more than a well-calculated display just for you.
It was an innocent question, yet you feel like you’ve been caught.
“Oh! It’s going well, you know, some interesting things are happening right now.”
Zayne closes his notebook and turns to give you his full attention. He rests an arm on the back of the sofa, slowly drumming against the plush surface with his fingers.
“Really? Like what?”
You frantically lift your book up, eyes darting back to the page. “Well, the main character has just entered the foreseer’s palace and um…” Your voice trails off.
“I know, you told me that before we sat here.” He shifts closer to you, your bodies now touching. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, plucking the book from your grasp. Your body freezes at his unexpected closeness.
Head leaning forward to inspect the words, he flicks back a few pages. His breath is near your ear as he speaks,
“That was about… three pages ago? And yet, you can’t recall what you’ve just read.” He hums in thought. Goosebumps form on your skin at the low timbre of his voice. He moves the bookmark back to its original location and places the book on the table.
“Has there been something else occupying your mind?”
Your heart leaps to your throat as you face him. He isn’t wearing his glasses, and his hair is slightly tousled from being recently dried. Unmistakably, amusement glitters in his eyes.
You huff. “You’re teasing me now, aren’t you?” Your flat stare at him makes the corners of his lips lift. He breathes a laugh, never getting over how much he loves seeing your expressions.
“Your reactions are too fun to not at least try. Although, I’m not satisfied just yet.” You feel Zayne’s hand drift down from your shoulder to rest at your waist, electrifying the skin under your clothes.
“I’d still like you to make your intentions clear to me.”
You shy away from his boldness. ““Okay, okay…I just thought your hands looked… pretty, that’s all.” You mumble, playing it off as nonchalantly as possible, embarrassment bubbling inside you. His touch disappears as he withdraws his arm from your side. Puzzled, you watch him examine his hands in front of you.
“Pretty? Hm…that’s a new one.” There’s a faint sadness in his tone. He absentmindedly rubs the scarring on his forearms, a consequence of his evol powers. “I can’t imagine why something so unremarkable would be so interesting to you.”
The opportunity presents itself and you take both his hands in yours.
His skin is cool to the touch as you glide a thumb over his knuckles. He briefly tenses. You pat his knuckles in reassurance, a signal that he can relax. His fingers are slender, with prominent veins trailing along the backs of his hands.
Hands that are a testament to his skill and dexterity as a surgeon. Hands capable of playful touches and soft embraces that you feel lucky enough to experience everyday.
Zayne has trouble steadying his heart rate. He tries to recall the slow breathing exercises he instructs patients to use, but his thoughts get muddled when you connect palms and interlock your fingers with his. Despite it being his own orchestration that led to this, he’s become putty in your hands. Your touch is delicate, treating him like he’s fragile ice. He admits to himself how nice it feels for you to give him this kind of attention.
“I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but they’re not unremarkable to me, Zayne. I think they’re beautiful.” You squeeze his hands in emphasis. A moment passes. There is such sincerity in your eyes, he can’t help but begin to believe those words, believe practically anything you say right now.
“Well,” his voice comes out more uneven than he expected, “I do think highly of your opinion.”
He releases your hands. The surprise on your face reminds him of a child whose toy is packed away before they can finish playing. Another expression of yours to log in his head.
“You should get back to your reading. I’ve distracted you for long enough.” He collects his items from the table and stands, handing your book back. Before he leaves, he kisses you on the forehead and you happily lean into it. You feel quite accomplished. Perhaps this means he’ll let you hold his hands like that more often. You become quickly engrossed in your novel as he walks past.
He’s grateful you don’t look up at that moment to see him flex his hands, an unfamiliar heat pulsing through them. The sensation of your touch lingers with him for the rest of the night.
snowghoul
dededos
dailybridgerton
discoholicmusic
turnnoffyourmind
