#Aphmau Gene

[revxwrites]

When I think of Gene's eye color this is what comes to mind that pretty dark turquoise blue

I don't know why they temporarily made his eyes a lighter tone than they once were then double backed, it's confusing ToT

[dilly-dahlia]

i hate to admit it because he’s a terrible person but writing about diaries gene is making me really like his character like he’s just so gooood he could’ve had everything he ever wanted ever and he could’ve been such a good tyrant but his lust for cassandra got in the way liiiiiike

[arienic]

hii! may i request a mys!gene x fem!short! reader? :)

of course! so sorry for the delay, i got caught up in a bit of writer's block. i feel like this is a little ooc, still trying to get him down huhu. hope you enjoy though!

"What the fuck are you doing?" Gene blurts.

You don't even look at him, still perched on the kitchen counter, prying a cupboard open. "Getting chips," you tell him. "What else?"

"I didn't mean that, I meant —" When you lean up on your knees to reach for a pack, he blanches, immediately rushing over to steady you. "Shit, doll! Why're you on the counter?"

"Getting chips," you repeat, with emphasis this time, as if to say 'are you stupid?' "I was watching a show and I got hungry, so here I am, getting chips."

"We have a ladder — we have chairs!" He pinches your thigh. "You have me!"

You swat his hand away, then drop a bag of chips onto the counter. But it seems you're not done, not yet — you continue rummaging through the cupboard. "I was lazy," is what he gets as a reply.

Gene rests a resigned hand on the back of your calf. "You're insane."

"Innovative. Able to adapt. Get it right, baby," you hum. He sighs, and you laugh at that.

The chip bags crinkle loudly as you sort through them. It's a mess of reds and blues and yellows and greens — they're all pushed to the side, stacked on top of one another, in your search. Not that Gene's complaining — in all honesty, it doesn't look all that different from when he'd stocked it up last weekend.

And then finally — finally! — you pluck another bag of chips from the pile and sit back on your calves. Gene reaches over your head to shut the cupboard.

"Thanks," you say, your back still to him, hunching over to look at the chips you picked out. 

Gene pokes your hip, hand coming up to rest on your waist. "At least look at your savior when you're thanking him, sweetheart."

You laugh, lean back onto his chest. "Savior?"

"Yes, savior."

He gives your hip a little squeeze, and you roll your eyes. Resting a hand on his shoulder for support, you twist your body around, taking up your legs from under you and adjusting 'til you're seated comfortably on the counter. 

"Better now, savior?"

"Much." His hands come up to settle on the tops of your thighs, and you let him move forward to stand between them. "Now that you're all safe and sound — don't pull that shit again, sweetheart. I know you're short" — you roll your eyes — "but you don't need to go around climbing counters for some chips."

"It's so fun, though."

"Yeah?" Gene moves in closer, and delights in the flush of your cheeks when he keeps eye contact with you as he does so. "Bet it's like climbing Mount Everest."

A smile tries to tug up your lips, but you press them in a thin little line. "Fuck you," you tell him.

"I'd be honored, doll."

"Gene!" you laugh.

"But, you know, I guess you're probably raring to go and devour these chips of yours" — he reaches around your back and picks up the packs, holding them up to your face — "as you watch some movie, so." Gene places them gingerly on your lap. "I'll leave you to it."

You shake your pretty head, get down from the counter, and with your chips tucked under your arms, you disappear into your room.

You do give him a kiss as you go, though, so he'll let it slide.

[thevyladsafespace]

I lived btch - V 2k24

Behold- I now disappear for another 80 years

[mxangoes]

hello forgot abt tumblr again

big fat art dump here ya go

[kittycolours]

More shitposts 🩷 hope you enjoy my aphmau memes and redraws al

[ink-bunny2]

SCATTER!!!

Doodle of the crew from my MCD Shadow Knight Swap au

[romeavedefenders]

mystreet boys & nicknames

characters; laurance, gene & zenix x reader

author; kiri

a/n: my first post! it's a bit simple, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway. remember, asks are open for feedback and requests <3

c/w: reader is referred to with gendered terms a few times.

Laurance

This man is a big fan of any nickname that gets you flustered, but he has a few particular favourites.

Love and beautiful are nicknames he uses on the regular, so much so that it occasionally makes you wonder if he even remembers your actual name. In fact, Laurance rarely uses your name - why should he, when he has a repertoire of nicknames that fit you perfectly?

Out of all the men mentioned in this post (maybe even out of all the men in MyStreet), Laurance is the frontrunner and reigning champion in making up sickeningly sweet nicknames, such as sugarcakes, buttercup, light of my life, etc.  If stringing together random words into an affectionate term was a crime, he’d be in federal prison at this point. He usually does this to get a rise out of you, especially in front of your mutual friends (who all think its equal parts funny and embarrassing), but he also just enjoys it. He thinks it’s a cute thing to do, and doesn’t really care if others find it odd or embarrassing. Why should he?

He mostly uses your actual name when calling for you or if you’re arguing, mainly to underline that he’s being serious. It’s not really a conscious decision. I like to think that it’s a habit he picked up from Cadenza when they were kids. At some point, this becomes so ingrained in your dynamic that if he, for whatever reason, calls you by your real name, you automatically start wondering if something’s wrong, and if you’re an overthinker…well that can snowball quickly.

Again, that’s not a conscious decision - hence the slip up. Once Laurance becomes aware of this, either by you telling him or him noticing (because if there is one thing this man is, it’s observant), he’ll actually start trying to alternate between using a nickname and your name more often, especially during serious conversations or arguments. Mainly because he is slightly disturbed by the idea that he accidentally had you associating your name with you two arguing.

Another nickname he uses is angel, though it’s reserved for more intimate moments when he gets really sappy. It’s accompanied by whispers of adoration, confessions of love, and reminders of how much you mean to him. He genuinely believes he’s the luckiest man alive to have you, wonderful you, as his partner. You brighten up all of his days, even those you aren’t present for, and bring out the best in him. Sounds a lot like what an angel would do, doesn’t it?

Gene

Another man who loves to make you flustered.

Babe is one he uses often, but for him it’s more a word that's interchangeable with your name, rather than a term of endearment. Still, if someone else called you that - you’d have a really annoyed Gene on your hands. Exceptions are made for people like Lucinda, who will call everyone and their mom every nickname in the book.

A nickname he absolutely loves to use is doll. He thinks it’s really cute (and these days, unique), and it almost never fails to make you blush. Especially when it's accompanied by his signature smirk and husky voice - that usually has a playful lilt to it. When you’re busy doing something, he loves to come up behind you, wrap his arms around your waist and mumble a small “hey doll” into your ear - and if that’s not distracting you enough, he might press a few kisses to your cheek, slowly trailing them down to your jaw.

Another thing he does is add “my” to almost any nickname he uses - “my doll”, “my darling” or just a plain old “my girl/boy”, depending on what you’re comfortable with.

On that note, he’ll sometimes say “good girl/boy” as a response to you listening to him, mostly to get a reaction out of you. And Gene, being the little prick he can be, will deliberately stop saying it for a while if he even suspects you’re getting used to it. It’s really just an ace up his sleeve that he loves to pull whenever you don’t expect it, and your reactions entertain him endlessly.

He’ll also call you sweetheart, though not nearly as often. It’s mostly used when he’s trying to comfort you, or if he himself is having a really shitty day and just needs you nearby (preferably, in his arms).

I cannot remember if this was confirmed or not, but i HC Gene as being at least partly hispanic, so i think he might occasionally use spanish terms of endearment such as mi amor or mi cielo.

Zenix

Honestly, this guy isn’t really all that big on nicknames (unless dumbass, pain in the ass and idiot count). He has nothing against them, but you already have a name, and he likes it, so why not use it? He’s not great at thinking of good ones either, and he feels like most of them just don’t roll off the tongue that naturally. Nicknames like love, darling and dear feel especially awkward to him, and it’s only slightly because emotional vulnerability and casual proclamations of love scare the shit out of him.

Like Gene, he’ll use babe more than others, though mostly in an obnoxious way. If he wants something, or is just being whiny in general, he’ll call you that until you give him the attention he wants.

If you like nicknames, he honestly tries really hard. Most of them just feel really awkward to him, and he doesn’t really see the point until you start calling him various nicknames, and it kind of clicks in his head why people like it so much.

At some point you stop using them, thinking they make him uncomfortable, and he gets genuinely upset. He stumbles through a flustered explanation, where the bottomline is that withholding affection from him like that should be considered a crime, a description you laugh at, but take to heart. When you tell him that you simply assumed he was uncomfortable because he doesn’t call you anything in return, he grumbles about how assumptions are stupid and you should just ask him instead.

Still, Zenix knows it takes two to tango, and after that, he grows a bit more comfortable with nicknames. He tries out a bunch, but it’s mostly because he gets a kick out of your reactions. 

In private, he likes to call you sexy, mostly as a joke. There is truth to it of course, he thinks you’re extremely attractive, but the word is just really funny to him. Plus, your flushed face is one hell of a bonus. He would never dare call you that in front of others, especially not Gene and Sasha, so that’s a prime opportunity to get revenge for whatever torment he puts you through.

Honorable mention; hot stuff is another one he might use, for the same reason.

Zenix also really likes to just refer to you as “mine”. He’s possessive, moreso out of insecurity than distrust, though he does find it difficult to put his faith in anyone - especially a romantic partner, which he struggles to admit. He needs a lot of reassurance, which sometimes just comes in the form of calling you his, and with you affirming.

Unironically (well, kind of) refers to you as his partner in crime. Both in private and with others; it’s not that sweet, sure, but it’s a nice middle ground for him when calling you more affectionate names seems so daunting, especially when others can hear. It kind of becomes your thing after a while, even if one day he grows comfortable enough to express his love for you differently.

Zane

He probably grew up with his parents calling each other all kinds of classy terms of endearment like honey, darling, love, and beloved, and I feel like that kind of carries over to him. In the beginning of the relationship at least. He has other nicknames he prefers to use later on.

Beloved is the one that always sticks. It’s simple, but carries a lot of meaning - literally referring to someone or something that is “dearly loved”. And that perfectly describes how he feels about you.

Zane is not the type to use many terms of endearment in public, if any at all. Not out of shyness, he’s just a pretty private person, and while he doesn’t mind PDA, he doesn’t see the need to flaunt everything about his relationship out in the open. He views terms of endearment as a pretty intimate thing by default, and while he doesn’t mind you using them in public (it makes him smile, honestly), he prefers to keep it to a minimum.

If this bothers you, he’ll use them in front of your friends a bit more often. He doesn’t want you to think that he doesn’t love you enough to show it in front of others.

In private, on the other hand? He’s a sucker for cute nicknames like muffin or pumpkin, both of which he uses a lot. As soon as the door shuts behind you two, he’s practically forgetting your given name in favor of those two. He prefers pumpkin, not for any particular reason. It’s also the one he defaults to when you’re upset. He’ll notice quite quickly, and move you to a quiet area, offering you a hug and mumbling “what’s wrong, pumpkin?” into your hair.

He’s not rapid-firing nicknames like Laurance is, but he’s quite close in the race. It’s just a simple way for him to remind you that he cares about you, something intimate he saves just for you. His family have heard him call you sweet things before (and they definitely enjoy this softer side of him), but he tries to keep it between the two of you.

Nicknames he uses less often, and definitely in a more teasing manner, are bunny or kitty, sometimes just pet. You would not catch him dead calling you any of these in front of anyone else, not even while completely wasted, but if you’re alone and he feels like teasing you? He’s pulling out all the stops.

Pet is one he especially uses when he’s trying to convince you to do something for him. Most of the time, it’s something mundane, like taking care of yourself properly - or making him a cup of tea because he’s too lazy to get up. He knows you can’t say say no when he uses just the right tone of voice, even if you’re cursing him as you stomp off to do whatever it is he said.

Hope you guys enjoyed!

[vysaholic]

the shadow knights!! and some head canons:

>they were all super close, like very clingy to each other. they were all kinda in love, casual kisses and cuddling n stuff

>laurance and gene were together, as well as sasha and zenix. despite this, they're still all very casually romantic

>sasha has albinism. because of this her vision isn't the best and she in particular clings onto people physically for guidance, mostly zenix

>they weren't all evil mode in the beginning, they were just a group of kids that differed from the norm and were bullied a lot. they created the shadow knights just to seem tougher

>laurance left the shadow knights because he was bullied more for being in it than not. in the moment it was fully fueled by fear, but looking back on it, he feels horrible

>after laurance broke up with gene, gene went a little bit insane. that's when they became a delinquent group

[itsmepaupao]

Happy Valentines Day 💌 💕

[jinkiesmariz]

I HATE HIMM !!!!!!!!!!

Anyways here is silly monotone thing and the flats I should smash his head in with hammers meoeowowowww bye I’m stressed and coping

[starhvney]

a requester asked: Travis, Garroth, Laurance, and Gene from MCD with tea, cream, and pumpkin bread. If that works! If it makes any sense star, have an amazing day and don’t overwork yourself!!!

𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟗: 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫!!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: romantic tension, fluff, teaching/training/mentoring a skill

𝐚/𝐧: i LOVED this one hehe thanks for requesting, and have an amazing day/night! i’ll try not to overwork myself hhahahash but we shall see

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒

“I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you to go so hard back there…” Travis winces as he sits on a suitable log, holding up his arm to look at the deep cut he’d acquired in your sparring match.

“I’m really sorry,” you genuinely apologize, sitting next to him. “I thought you were paying attention to my swing.”

“I guess I was distracted by something…” He bites his lip, a fox-like grin spreading on his face that puts his fanged canines on display. “But, ah… I’ve had much worse than this, don’t worry.”

It doesn’t ease much of your guilt, and you reach to gently hold his arm–inspecting it with a frown.

“...If you really want to apologize, why don’t you patch me up?” he suggests, pulling his pack from his back and setting it in your lap.

“I don’t really know how to that well,” you hesitate, eyes wide when he pulls out a needle and thread, setting it in your hands as he wipes the blood from his wound with a clean cloth.

“Then I’ll teach you,” he grins. “I only need a few anyways. It should be easy to do.”

“Uh…”

“Trust me. You’re not gonna hurt me anymore than you already did, beautiful,” he leans closer, eyes lidded as his face hovers near yours.

“I’ll add another cut,” you warn, and the impish man backs away with a chuckle.

“Alright! I can take a hint,” he places his uninjured hand over his chest theatrically. “Even though it hurts.”

He points down at his wound, giving you a pouted lip. “Now, could the pretty woman please grace my wounds with her touch before I bleed out?”

You situate the thread and needle in your hands, feeling nervous again. “Okay… how should I do this?”

“Just carefully thread it through the first couple layers of skin there and pull. Not too deep that out hurts but also not too shallow that it doesn’t hold,” he explains, leaning over you as you carefully do as he says. “Then loop it around there and pull gently… not too tight but enough to connect the skin together again.”

He only winces a bit as he talks, seeming used to the pain. He was right, only a few stitches were needed before the wound was closed, and the healing ointment and bandages he also had in his pack made finishing the job rather quick and easy.

“How’d you learn this?” you ask, as you finish tying it off the end of the bandage. 

“Well, not many doctors would accept the son of the Demon Warlock,” he says quietly. “After so many failed attempts of doing it on your own, you eventually learn.”

A wave of sadness washes over you at the admission, the image of a younger version of Travis in pain and tears as he fails to nurse his own injuries heartbreaking to think about. Green eyes dart over your face when you remain speechless, and the man quickly jumps to his feet.

“But! Now you and I both know their technique, so what good are they for anyways?” With his hand held out, he bows to you, offering help to bring you to your feet.

You take it, standing with a quiet sigh.

“Hey, don’t look so upset. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been now that such a fine-looking face worried over me.”

𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇

Your breath creates steam in the cold air as you stand in front of the dummy, the burlap sacks sliced and stabbed in several places; causing their hay insides to spill onto the ground. Despite the cold, you were warmed up from how long you’d been training with the head guard today, and you’d even shed a layer of your heavy clothing in the process.

Of course, the man in charge of your combat lesson naturally ran hotter than you, so you were both blessed and subjected to his upper half only to be covered by his linen undershirt. Every time he’d demonstrate a way he wanted you to swing or how to change your footwork, your eyes would drift to the thick muscles that pulled against his sleeves and stretched the material over his chest.

Truly, it wasn’t your fault! He was tall enough that those assets happened to be directly within your line of sight, so if anything it was his fault for… being so tall and muscular!

“…No, that’s not what I showed you…” Garroth sighs gently when you once again mess up your stance. Seeming as you hadn’t been paying close attention to his feet when he’d given you a demonstration, you were a bit lost when he put you on the spot.

Walking up to your side, strong arms come around either side of you as he adjusts your grip, his leg coming between yours to push your feet out. You have to stop yourself from letting your jaw fall completely to the floor, the proximity of the man towering over you nearly scrambling any semblance you had left to remain professional.

“You seem distracted today. Are you feeling well?” He asks as he steps away, a concerned look in his eye as he looks over your face.

“Um… no, I’m perfectly fine…” You chuckle nervously, dipping your sword a bit as you scold yourself for your obviousness.

“Are you sure?” he frowns, strong hand landing on your shoulder and squeezing in an act of comfort. It only heats your skin on fire, sending your thoughts reeling. “We can take a break, if you need to.”

“No. I’m alright,” you breathe. “Let’s continue.”

“…Alright, then let’s change from practicing offense to defense,” he gives in to your insistence, walking over to pick up a shield and place it on your arm.

The distance he puts between you a moment later gives you a moment to breathe, but not before he’s readying himself to attack. A sense of panic takes over you as you move to ready yourself, his nod for your short spar to begin coming all too soon.

He charges, and in one swipe the shield is immediately knocked from your hands, the force of his strength immediately overtaking you. You stumble back, and you’re sure you’re set to fall right down on your back as your feet lose their balance.

With a yelp, you tense for the impact, but you only fall for a split second before a hand tightly wraps around your arm. His sword dully falls against the training ground dirt before his other hand shoots your other side, pulling you up in a quick motion to your feet.

Briefly, you’re pressed against his chest, his heart racing against your ear and arms wrapping around you to hold you steady. He’s warm, so warm, that you almost forget the reason he was holding you in the first place. The brief sense of his strong muscles pressed against you is taken away when he pulls you back enough to get a good look at you.

His eyes are wide, unblinking, darting across your form and checking for injuries. “I think… this has been enough training for today. Are you okay?”

You manage a nod, focused in on the rising blush against his ears and cheeks. “Yes.”

“…Good. Now, how about I treat you to a meal?”

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

“One thing Garroth hasn’t taught you is the art of smooth-talking,” Laurance leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. The calm breeze of the day rushed past the two of you as you sat on the edge of the guard tower, looking out on the village. “It can get you out of any sticky diplomatic situation.”

You cross your arms, humming with a raised brow. “Ah, yes. Something you know all about, huh?”

“I’d never deceive you if that’s what you’re implying,” he says with an offended gasp. “By my honor!”

You can’t help but laugh, turning away to attempt to hide it from him to no avail. When you turn back, he’s looking at you with a soft gaze and quirked lip. He hums, smile widening as he watches your eyes dart away shyly.

“I’m serious, though,” he starts, tilting his head at you with an intent look. “I don’t want you to be in a situation where simply swinging your sword around isn’t going to work and you end up in trouble.”

You deadpan.

“Are you saying I’m a brute or are you insulting my ability to communicate?”

He tilts his head back, hearty laughter dancing into the air as a hand reaches up to his stomach. “Neither! Though if you were a brute you sure are the most beautiful one I’ve ever seen.”

For everything that is good, he really can never let up on his flirting, can he? You lower your head, giving him a glowering look at his insistent teasing within every sentence he utters to you. It wasn’t fair to your poor heart, as it betrayed you with its quick beating in your chest. The way you were never able to fully gain your composure next to him was entirely frustrating.

“Will you continue to display how good you are at smooth talk or are you going to teach me?”

A snort leaves his lips. “Well your methods of intimidation need some work, too-”

You swing, narrowly missing his arm before he scoops your hands up in his. “Hey now! What did I just say about using words over violence? Not off to a good start, huh?”

He softens his smile, lowering your hands. “You have to be personable. To play on the other’s weakness to get the answer you want. I’ll give you an example.”

With a subtle tilt of his head and a pleading lift of his lashes, the man leans forward, his voice softening. “My lady, your forced indifference wounds me to my very core. Can’t you consider my advances as genuine?”

Your body betrays you once again as a rush of blood rises to your cheeks. You’re quick to look away, attending your focus back on the village below you.

“Does that work on most ladies?”

“Oh my, don’t tell me you’re jealous,” he moves his head to get a better look at your expression, his eyes eating up the slight pout on your lips. “I hope you know the only woman I have eyes for is you…”

You don’t respond, and he forms his own answer with an almost giddy smile. He’s quick to return to his suave demeanor only a moment later. “I see. Well, what’s your response? Give me your best shot.“

His smug reaction is enough to make your pride stubbornly rear its head. So you turn to him again, eyes narrowed and face coming only inches from his as you give a similar look that he’d given you only a moment prior.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t keep teasing and distracting me on the job,” you whisper scoldingly. “Don’t you think it’s unfair to a subordinate to tempt them all the time from wanting to do anything but their assignment?”

The smug look is replaced with a look of awe and an almost unnoticeable hitch of air caught in his throat. He dares to lean in closer, eyes longing as they drift down to your lips, his own parting for a moment before he clears his throat, leaning back again.

“Ah, good job,” he smirks, though his cheeks are flushed. “Consider me charmed. Though, I already was, so how fair of an assessment can I give…?”

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄

Wind rushes by your ears as you sprint further into the forest, your breaths quick as you stare down at the ground ahead of you, your feet searching for the quietest part of the ground to step on. Still, the leaves and twigs crunch under your boots, and your lungs loudly gasp for air–the noise echoing off the trees around you.

A large tree looks promising ahead, the trunk wide enough for you to side behind if only for a moment to rest. Your hand meets the rough bark as you swing around to the other side, pressing your back flat against it. 

In nature, animals and bugs can sense when there’s a shift in the normalcy of their small lives. They can feel when the energy shifts; when there’s something dangerous nearby. A predator. Something that wasn’t meant to be there.

You can feel it too.

Even if you didn’t, the nature around you gives plenty of warning. There’s no bird chatter or the distant rustling of bushes as critters search for a snack. Eerie silence save for the rushing of blood in your ears settles over, sending a fearful spike of adrenaline through your legs. You can’t tell if it was going to make you take off in another spurt of energy or if it would make you collapse down onto the bed of grass beneath you.

There’s not much time for you to decide which it is before an almost intentional snap of a twig under what could only be a person’s foot sounds from your left. You quickly twist your neck to look, only to be met with more empty forest before your eyes.

A breath brushes against your right ear, low and amused—and most definitely meant to startle you. Arms snatch around your torso, lifting you into the air and against a built chest as you yelp in surprise.

“You, my dear, are not very good at this.” Gene’s lips press against your ear; his breath unnervingly hot.

You swallow, gasping for air while your feet dangle in the air. Your heart feels like it’s going to leap straight out from your throat with every quick harsh beat, making you dizzy as the chase concludes.

“I made it pretty far.” you gasp, pointing your toes to the ground and still unable to gain footing.

“Yet all of the strategies I’ve shown you were nowhere to be found. I could hear you from a mile away, pretty.”

“It’s not fair, you have an advantage by nature…”

A chuckle rumbles from his chest as he slowly sets you down, though his arms still keep you trapped against him.

“That’s true… but I don’t know… I’ve been teaching you these techniques all week and you still haven’t caught on at all,” He muses in a teasing tone, grabbing your chin and tilting you up to look at him. “Maybe I just need to follow you around forever to guard you from attacks.”

His dark eyes dance between blue and red, both deep in hue like blood spilling into the deep ocean. It’s dangerously mesmerizing, entrancing despite your very nature fighting against it. A lithe finger taps against your cheek when you don’t offer him any response, his head tilting at you as his tongue runs over his teeth. 

“Hm? Is that it? Should I never let you out of my hands?” He suggests, voice bordering something possessive, or maybe an emotion that ran indescribably further down than that. “Maybe you want that.”

A second passes before he lets you go, gently shoving you ahead. “One more. I’ll give you a longer head start this time.”

“H-huh?” you pant, turning around with wide eyes to look at him as he leans against the tree, not looking worn or phased at all. “Right now?”

“One… two…”

©starhvney 2024. do not plagiarize, feed to any AI, or repost my works to any sites.

taglist: @wasting-away-on-the-internet @angelhyperfixates @valentique @arienic @dazedbydeath @theaquaticplant @starsbrightly @kalegrinch @izzybella1807 @marst4rz @vyladsgirl @allieyaaa

[arienic]

you or the world?

GENE, ZENIX x GN!READER — this is part 1!!! i'll be writing more characters with this prompt

includes: 'sweetheart' as a petname; mentions of death; maybe ooc characters?

☆ GENE: You, obviously.

Gene is a murderer, cold-blooded and heartless, and he's not afraid to admit it.

You? Over the world? Please, sweetheart, that isn't even a question. At least, not to Gene, whose brother despises him, whose very existence is unwelcome in the Overworld. No, you have too much faith in him, he thinks, watching your face shift from sorrow, to desperation, and finally, to resignation. You’ve always seen him as better than he actually is, even after he’s confessed to you a number of sins, each worse than the last. 

Yes, Gene would sooner bring the world to ruin himself than give you up. So when you reach out to him, fingers trembling as they brush along his cheek, and murmur sadly, “It’s alright, I understand — your brother and his family, they come first, my love,” — his hand, gloved and bloody, shoots right up to clasp over your own. 

“No,” Gene says firmly, and reaches for your waist, bringing you into him. “Let them burn,” he tells you. 

Because Gene is a murderer, after all: cold-blooded, heartless.

☆ ZENIX: You. Always, always you.

Zenix hasn’t had anything to lose in quite a while — not after surrendering his life, his mentor, and his station to the spinning wheel of fate. For a while, he’s left to his own whims. He moves. He kills. Over a mountain; another body. Through a forest's thick underbrush; this time, a village.

And then — and then he meets you. Oh. Oh, you. Zenix has never had a lover before, and none of this is familiar to him: the way you take his scalding hands in your own, pressing kisses across his knuckles and his calluses and the scars that stretch across his arms. You bring his head to rest on your chest and brush the hair from his eyes. He hears your heart go thump, thump, thump, and for the first time in a while, he sleeps like a baby. A baby.

You’ve brought to him a kind of tranquility that, truthfully, Zenix has never been able to experience in full. It makes his chest warm and has him stumbling over his words, not unlike how a swordmaster’s newest apprentice might bear a horrible stance and trip over themself. He's never been this clumsy before. And his cheeks have flushed, but only from anger.

So, no, he wouldn't sacrifice you. He'd rather keep you on his arm, keep your lips to his temple and his hand to your back, than give you up so the world might live.

[j4idenmcdglazer]

I can fix him ☝️🤓

[dilly-dahlia]

v. Dollhouse of Unexpected Feelings

pairing: Gene x Reader

content: pdh, drill team!reader, opposites attract, sunshine/grumpy, angst, suggestive but not explicit, images used are NOT an indication of the reader's appearance

summary: You gladly accepted Gene's offer to work on your Physics project at his house, but . . . where were the butterflies from?

word count: 7.4k

masterlist

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previous part

Dante’s house always intimidated you. It was huge. It was also further out of the city and surrounded by a big plot of land his family owned. His closest neighbor was across the street, and even then the winding driveways leading to both houses made them seem like lifetimes away. Any time you came over it was a reminder that you go to the same school he does because of a scholarship, not because your parents could afford the price tag.

Your dad let out a low whistle as he drove up the driveway, raising his brows. “These people are in a different tax bracket, Y/n. I feel poor,” he said, glancing over at you. “Is that why you’re dressed so nice?”

“I’m dressed normally.” Although you had put just a tad more effort into your hair and makeup. And, okay, maybe you were wearing one of your nicer outfits.

He raised his brow at you in suspicion. You kept your gaze locked with his until he said something else. “You’re sure there’s no boys here?”

“I never said there weren’t gonna be guys here, Dad. I literally told you my physics partner is a guy.”

He hummed like he didn’t believe you, but you knew you told him because his response had been, “Don’t go doing any double slit experiments.”

And he said the same thing now. “Alright, then. But don’t go doing any double slit experiments. Not worth it.”

Your cheeks heated and you reached up to cover your face as he pulled to a stop. You mumbled something incoherent before opening your door and carefully climbing out, cardboard box and grocery bag of craft supplies in hand.

“How you gettin’ home, tot?” your dad asked, leaning over the center console. You rested the box on the passenger seat for a moment, tapping your fingers against the sides.

“I’ll get a ride home with Katelyn if she’s here,” you replied. “Or Gene can take me, even.”

Your dad scrunched his nose. “Gene a bad kid?” You shook your head. He huffed and lifted himself back into the driver seat, shifting the car into drive. “Go home with Katelyn.”

You hummed in agreement, lifting the box back up and closing the car door. Your dad waited until you were at Dante’s front door, hand on the knob and opening it, before driving off. 

Dante and his family always left the front door unlocked when they were expecting people, and not only were you there to work on your Physics project with Gene, but Dante had also invited most of the friend group to just come over and hang out.

You didn’t think that was just a coincidence. You were sure Dante (and probably another person) had some underlying motive, but you couldn’t prove anything.

The door immediately opened to the living room and kitchen. The layout of the first floor was fairly open, the only separation indicating a difference in rooms being a kitchen island with tall bar stools sitting beside it. There was hardly anything on the floor save for basic and sleek looking furniture, but the walls were covered in family photos and various hangings.

Dante—who was sitting on the couch with Garroth, Laurance, Cadenza, and Aphmau—looked toward the door when it opened. The five of them were playing Mario Kart, though Dante was sitting out. You offered a tight lipped smile.

He narrowed his eyes at you. “I thought you were busy.”

“I am.” You motioned to the box and plastic bag in your hands. “Is Gene here?”

“Who threw that blue shell?” Aphmau shouted.

“I think it was an NPC,” Garroth said, though he was biting back a laugh as he passed Aphmau’s Yoshi.

“He’s up in his room,” Dante replied, letting his head hang back so he could keep looking at you. You stepped closer to him, resting the box on the back of the couch.

“Can you go get him?”

“Why do I have to get him?”

“It’s your house, Dante.”

“Well he’s your partner.” Dante rolled his eyes, reluctantly pushing himself off the couch and trudging over to the set of stairs on the opposite side of the room. “Fine. He’ll be down in a minute.”

“Thank you,” you sang, giving him a bright smile. You immediately took his spot on the couch, watching the remainder of the Mario Kart round. Once it finished, Laurance set his controller down and leaned forward.

“Y/n.”

You blinked at him, your gaze flitting around for a moment. Aphmau and Garroth were preoccupied with choosing the next cup they were going to play, but Cadenza seemed to be listening in. You met her gaze and she shrugged.

“Laurance,” you replied, matching his monotone voice.

“You and Gene,” he started, but he didn’t elaborate. You fought the urge to roll your eyes, but you couldn’t hold back the exasperated breath you let out.

“I’m here to do a physics project with him, Laurance,” you explained. Your tone seemed strained, like you were tired of always having to explain yourself to him.

“Isn’t that what the class is for?”

“So Mr. Vega actually assigns six weeks projects to do as homework,” you said, using your hands to animate the situation. “Gene and I have barely even planned out our dollhouse and it’s due literally tomorrow.”

Laurance, always having less restraint than you, did roll his eyes. “I feel like you’re spending a lot of time with him and using physics to cover it up.”

Your brows furrowed. What was that supposed to mean?

“I’m sorry he’s my lab partner? I don’t know what you want me to tell you.” You crossed your arms defensively. The other three had picked a new cup by now, and they were silently watching your conversation with Laurance. “Even then, it’s none of your business who I talk to. I’ve already told you that you can’t police who I’m friends with.”

“That’s not-“ Laurance exhaled, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t like arguing, especially with you. And especially in front of other people. You could see it in the way his cheeks flushed, and the fact that the three onlookers were so clearly listening to the small argument only made it worse. “I’m not trying to do that.”

“It sure seems like it.”

“Just-“ Laurance took a breath, his celestine eyes meeting yours. “What is the deal with you two?”

“What do you mean? We’re friends.”

Laurance raised his brows in disbelief. “That’s why you’re so dressed up? To work on a functioning dollhouse with just a friend?”

Why did people keep saying that? “This is not dressed up.” You motioned to yourself. The denim skirt and black fitted top you had on really wasn’t. Not to you, at least. You had thought the outfit sat in the comfortable gray area between casual and dressy, but apparently not.

“It is a little nicer than usual, Y/n,” Cadenza added.

“This is my normal clothing choice!” you said, scoffing. “And if I look dressed up then it’s because I’m here of all places. Have you seen this house? If I wore literally anything else I would look so out of place.”

“Did you not just see that Dante’s wearing a muscle shirt and highlighter yellow basketball shorts.”

You held your tongue. You had seen that, and you honestly wondered if he had just rolled out of bed with it. “That’s different.”

“There is nothing different about it.”

“He lives here.”

“That doesn’t mean- Listen, if you keep up whatever thing you have with Gene you might live here, too.”

Your jaw dropped. “What? What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, it just-“

“Oh, my god. You think I like Gene? That’s what this is about?”

“Of course not, Y/n. I just don’t think you should be getting so schmoozy with him.”

“I have not been getting schmoozy with him. We’re just friends, Laurance. And like I said, even if there was something, it's none of your business nor is it your place to tell me I can’t date him.”

“Do you know how pissed Dante would be if that happened?”

“Why are you bringing Dante into this?”

“Because he’s Gene’s brother, and also one of your best friends.”

“Dante is irrelevant.” It was like saying his name summoned him because you could suddenly hear Dante’s loud laugh coming from the stairwell. It bounced off the walls and in response you hit Laurance in the shoulder. “Now shut up.”

“Why did you hit me?”

You shushed him and stood up, readjusting the box in your arms so you could lift it easier. You and Laurance continued your hushed bickering for a moment, until you’d finally had enough.

“Okay, just- Just forget about it, Laurance.” You stepped around the couch, making your way over so you’d be able to meet Gene and Dante at the bottom of the stairwell. Just before you did, though, you turned your head and said, “Not a word to Dante. That goes for all of you.”

“What?” Dante asked, practically hopping off the last step of the stairs. You finally got a good look at him and realized just how ridiculous he looked. His entire person was a stark contrast to the warm color of the walls. He really did look like he had just rolled out of bed.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, waving him off. He eyed you suspiciously, but ended up shrugging and walking back to the couch. You placed a finger over your lips, silently shushing the other four that sat around. After a moment, you turned to Gene with a smile.

He raised a brow at you, his gaze flicking between you and your friends. “What’s that about?” he asked, lifting his hand and motioning to Dante. He held a folder, and the contents of it flopped around.

You shook your head. “Nothing. Anyway, I brought a cardboard box and the wire Garroth gave me the other day. I also brought a bunch of craft stuff my mom had so we could decorate it once we finish the wiring and . . . Yeah.”

You softly hummed to fill whatever silence followed your words. You and Gene awkwardly stood across from each other, the only sound in the room being your fingers softly tapping against the box and the occasional click of a button. You wondered why no one was talking, especially since there was a group of very talkative people just a few feet away from you.

You heard Cadenza clear her throat, and when you looked over she was leaned in close to Aphmau to whisper, although not quietly, “The tension is straight out of a romance novel.”

Aphmau said something else, but you didn’t hear it because you grabbed Gene by the arm and led him to the kitchen island, wanting to get far from any other comment they might have. You lifted the box onto the counter and settled into one of the bar stools. Gene followed suit, dropping his folder next to the box.

“Okay!” you said loudly, hoping it would prompt Dante and whoever else was on the couch to talk among themselves. “You have the plan we made, right?”

“Yup.” Gene opened the folder, pulling out the folded piece of paper you had haphazardly shoved into the folder and given to Gene. He unfolded it, flattening it out against the counter and sliding it between the two of you. “We will have to redo this, by the way, because this looks like shit.”

You blinked at the paper. Not only was it extremely crinkled, but the planning itself was a dumpster fire. You could barely make out the numbers written and the lines had started rubbing away.

“Okay,” is all you said, but the simple response was such a contrast to the panic that now coursed through your veins. This project was due tomorrow, and you were starting to see that there was a reason Mr. Vega had given the class an entire six week grading period to finish it.

“I’ll do the wiring and you work on making another copy of this,” Gene said, tapping the crumpled piece of paper in front of you. He grabbed another blank sheet and slid it in front of you, along with a pencil from across the counter.

You groaned. “Why do I have to do it? I hate making the graphs.”

“Because you have better handwriting than me. Also, you know nothing about how to wire because you were asleep when Mr. Vega taught us.”

You scoffed, but you knew exactly what day Gene was talking about. You had fallen asleep in nearly all your classes because you’d pulled an all-nighter the night before. Physics, though, was probably the most embarrassing of the classes because not only did Gene actually let you sleep, but it had been a day where Mr. Vega pulled everyone in a close circle around him for the presentation. Naturally, you had sat by Gene and ended up dozing away on him. “Not true, I was paying attention.”

Gene deadpanned, holding your gaze because he knew you were bullshitting. The two of you spent a couple moments like that, just staring at each other, before you sighed dramatically and picked up the pencil.

“Fine,” you groaned, picking up the pencil and starting to write both yours and Gene’s name on the paper. From your peripheral you could see a smirk on his face. “And I was not actually sleeping that day.”

“Oh yeah, what were you doing then?”

“Resting my eyes.”

Gene laughed, but it was dry and sarcastic, before rolling his eyes. “Yeah, because the drool on my shoulder was definitely resting your eyes.”

You shushed him, reaching over to place your hand over his mouth and cover it. Your cheeks felt warm, and you could only hope you hadn’t visibly flushed. He tried speaking beneath your hand again, but you harshly shushed him once more. Gene playfully rolled his eyes before pulling your hand away from his lips.

“Get to work, Y/n.” A smile played at his lips as he spoke, and the sight made you laugh.

“Says the guy who’s been unwinding copper wire since he sat down.”

“Shut up.”

You laughed again, and a comfortable silence fell over the two of you. Of course, it wasn’t really silent since Dante and Laurance and Aphmau and anyone else were still playing MarioKart. You listened to the racing music, along with the occasional and offhanded comment one of them made every now and then. You even let a laugh slip from your lips every now and then.

A couple hours had passed. Katelyn, Travis, Nicole and Lucinda had come by and found spots to sit around the living room area. They had been taking turns playing MarioKart or Overcooked, but the group of them had now settled down and were watching Hamilton. Safe to say that you had not been expecting a live show when you showed up to the Accardi residence.

Gene, you learned, took a lot of breaks. Oftentimes it seemed as though the breaks he took lasted longer than the time he actually worked, and it had reached the point where you had finished the final copy of the planning document and decided to try (and fail) to wire a small fan. Gene found your failure to be much more amusing than anything on his phone, and had set it face down on the counter in favor of watching you.

“You’re an ass,” you eventually said. Your comment elicited a hearty chuckle from Gene.

“And why am I an ass today, bunny?”

“You’re just sitting there and staring and laughing at me. Help me, or something.”

Gene laughed again. You noticed he did that a lot more the longer you knew him. Maybe the two of you were just getting more comfortable with each other, but you couldn’t recall any time you had seen him really laugh before this year. Before, you would see him in passing in the halls. Sometimes the two of you would lock eyes and you’d offer a soft smile and small wave, but Gene just stared at you until you looked away. Even when you saw him with Sasha and Zenix, he always looked brooding.

He reached over, pulling the copper wire and poorly made paper fan from your hands. Your fingers brushed together, and for the brief moment that they did you let yourself savor the feel of his calluses against your hands. For a brief moment you felt the warmth of his hand against yours, and you enjoyed it.

What?

Your gaze flicked up to meet the deepest blue you’d ever seen. You quickly pulled your hand away from his to brush hair out of your face, softly clearing your throat and glancing to where most of Dante’s group was belting the lyrics to Satisfied. You kept your gaze on the TV as Gene wired the fan, watching before you noticed Katelyn in your peripheral.

She was staring you down. Compared to the rest—who were all practically acting out Angelica’s grievances like they were the ones suffering from the tragedy of ‘right person wrong time’—she actually stuck out like a sort thumb, which was surprising considering she loved theater. Then again, it really wasn’t because of how adamant she always was about disliking it for some reason. Regardless to say, she was staring you down and you didn’t have a clue as to why.

You furrowed your brows, slightly cocking your head as if to say, What?

In response, Katelyn lifted her eyebrows and subtly nodded her head to Gene, even flicked her gaze to him.

Your eyebrows unfurrowed, but you slightly widened your eyes. Again, as if to ask, What?

Katelyn rolled her eyes, and nodded her head more distinctly to your physics partner. Her eyes were wider than saucers, and she moved her lips to mouth something.

Unfortunately, you were garbage at lip reading, and instead furrowed your brows again in confusion. You got one of her messages when Katelyn held her hands out in front of her, shaking them back in forth like she was going to strangle you.

Which, knowing her, wasn’t an entirely impossible thought.

“What are you doing?” Gene asked from beside you. He had been watching the silent conversation with your friend, and he seemed almost as lost as you.

“Nothing,” fell from your lips faster than lightning. Immediately you peeled your gaze from Katelyn to meet his instead. “Nothing.”

“Right.” Gene spared one last glance to Katelyn before pushing the bare bones of the completed dollhouse to you. “Well, we’re done with the wiring. Now, since you want that extra credit so bad, all we have to do is decorate it.”

“You’re talking like you don’t also need the extra credit, Mister Forty-Seven.”

“I am perfectly fine with making a bare minimum grade in that class—”

“A forty-seven isn’t—”

“—you, however, are the one crying about a seventy-seven.”

You deadpanned, glaring at him. “You do know I’m at Phoenix Drop High on scholarship, right?”

“So?”

You let out a sound akin to a scoff of disbelief. You kept your mouth slightly agape, just staring at Gene until he raised his eyebrows and motioned for you to continue. Then you sighed, lifting your hand to your mouth.

“You really are in a different tax bracket,” you mumbled, to which Gene laughed. You lowered your hand from your lips, crossing your arms on the counter and looking at him instead. “Gene, you realize tuition for Phoenix Drop High is twenty-thousand dollars a year, right?”

“Y/n, I know how much it costs and I know you’re there on scholarship.”

“I know, but you don’t know the requirements to keep the scholarship,” you said, cutting him off from speaking any further. “I need to stay in my extracurricular for the entire time I attend the school, I need good student behavior, and I also need to maintain an eighty plus average in all of my classes. I only get one pass for my grade to drop below that and I already used it last year.”

Gene whistled, tapping his fingers against the counter. “What class did you fail? And why? I can’t see you failing any of your classes, let alone get below an eighty.”

“Unimportant.” You didn’t want to get into the depression rut you had put yourself into that stemmed from dating Laurance. It was such a deep hole you had to take a week off school for your mental health and to catch yourself up. It was close to what you imagined hell to be like. “But anyways. I’m literally three points from making an eighty, Gene, please. I need that extra credit.”

He laughed, another genuine sound you were getting used to hearing, and shook his head. “Alright. What all did you bring?”

You smiled at him, which he returned. Except this one wasn’t like the mischievous or cunning smiles he often gave you or anyone else. He didn’t bare his perfect teeth and kept his lips closed. In fact, his smile was downturned. Now that you had seen it, you couldn’t imagine him with a smile where the corners of his lips curled up.

You reached for the plastic Hobby Lobby bag across the counter. Once you slid it toward yourself, you untied the knot and began pulling some of the supplies out, briefly explaining what they could be used for to Gene. You both decided to start making furniture with the air dry clay that had been sitting in your closet for who knows how long. Somehow, it retained its softness and remained easily molded.

“You are putting way too much effort into this,” Gene commented after he had watched you add the tiniest details to the table you were making with a toothpick. His voice was light, almost like he was holding back a laugh.

“You made a solid cube and called it a toaster so I don’t want to hear it,” you retorted, glancing up to meet his gaze. His eyes were trained on your hands, watching intently as you added wood grain texture to the clay.

Okay, maybe you were adding way too much detail, but you tended to hyper focus on the small things. It wasn’t your fault, really. It was just so calming sometimes. It gave you an opportunity to zero in on one thing and forget about some of your other responsibilities for a bit.

Gene gently grabbed your hand. Once again you felt his callouses against the softness of your skin and found yourself longing for a more lingering touch. Something that wasn’t so fleeting. His warm hand pried the table from your hands and set it into the designated kitchen space in the cardboard dollhouse to paint and hot glue once all the pieces had been finished.

“I think our table has enough detail,” he said, giving you another one of his downturned smiles. Your gaze flicked to his lips to admire it and the sight nearly made your heart jump up to your throat. “All we need now is, what? A bed?”

You blinked at him, hardly even noticing he had posed a question—suggestion?—until he repeated it.

“Oh! Yes. Yeah, a bed, probably.” You laughed nervously. “Where else would someone sleep?”

Your stupid question made Gene playfully roll his eyes. For some reason, the action had you questioning everything. His eye rolls, whether they were genuine or joking, never made you feel any particular way, so what was this?

Hamilton had ended by now. It was getting closer to one in the afternoon as well, and you were starting to get hungry. You hadn’t had anything to eat that day except a glass of milk to down an allergy pill and ibuprofen and a slice of bread with Nutella spread across it. And you only ate half of that before accidentally dropping it on the ground, sticky side down, just as you stepped into your dad’s car that morning. You were thankful when you overheard Dante and Aphmau and all of them discussing plans for the rest of the day.

They were debating whether or not they wanted to DoorDash something or actually go out. And then they were talking about whether or not they would even come back to Dante’s since it was getting late, at least to their standards. You heard the words Chinese, deli, Chick-fil-a and buffet tossed around before they decided to go to a local pizza buffet no one knew the name of but everyone loved.

You hadn’t even noticed that Gene had started molding the doll sized bed. You watched him work, studying the way his fingers pressed against the clay to shape it and the way he rubbed it smooth and thought about how you'd feel if he—

Woah. Let’s stop that train of thought before it gets anywhere.

You shook your head to rid your mind of the dirty image you had unintentionally given yourself, your cheeks hot. Gene noticed and looked up at you with his eyebrows furrowed, giving you a once over like you were crazy. You only smiled at him, acting like nothing had happened and that you definitely didn’t catch yourself thinking about that with him.

Nope. That didn’t happen, and it would never happen. Not in a million years. Because you didn’t even like him.

“Gene, we’re heading out!” Dante called. He swiped a set of keys from the bowl near the front door and slipped his shoes on.

“Do not crash my car, you idiot,” Gene said, catching sight of the guitar pick that dangled from the chain. “If you even nick it, you're paying for damage repair.”

“You got it!” Dante was out the door before anyone else.

You hummed in amusement at the display, and when Katelyn walked closer to you and came up to your side, you instinctively held your hand out to hold hers.

“We’re going to that pizza place on Wayfare,” she said. She took hold of your hand and held it against her cheek. “Do you want to come along?”

“Me too?” Gene piped up from beside you. He gave Katelyn one of his cunning, toothy smiles, and her response was a scowl and nasty side eye.

You shook your head. “No. Me and Gene still have to finish this stupid project.” You sighed heavily. You wanted with your full being to throw this cardboard project out the window and into a pit of blazing fire. You hoped it exploded.

“Want me to bring you anything?”

“Dr. Pepper and a brownie, please,” you requested, fluttering your lashes at your friend.

“Katelyn, we’re waiting on you!” someone—it sounded like Lucinda—called from the door. Katelyn rolled her eyes, letting go of your hand and squeezing your cheek.

“I will return with Dr. Pepper and the biggest center piece of brownie you’ve ever seen,” she said, saluting to you before wishing you luck on the project and jogging to the front door.

She closed it behind her. The sound echoed through the house, and you suddenly became very aware that it was only you and Gene. Awkwardly, you lifted your hand to scratch at the side of your neck.

It was quiet without everyone else. Too quiet. You could feel the tension in the air, though you couldn’t tell what it was from. You glanced over at Gene. He seemed perfectly fine with the silence and continued working on molding the miniature bed, so maybe the awkwardness was something you were making up.

“Do you mind if I play music?” you suddenly blurted. You really couldn’t handle the silence, especially with him, Which was weird because you never minded it before. You actually preferred the silence when you were with him, because it gave you a chance to look over his shoulder and snoop on whatever he was doing on his phone or just watch his mannerisms. He usually picked up a pen the same way he did a cigarette, and sometimes he would hold it between his pointer and middle fingers the same way. And lately he had been plucking cigarettes out of their box and just holding them between his lips, not even lighting them.

“Go for it,” Gene said, setting the bed down and wiping his hands against his pants. “Do you want something to eat, by the way? I know I’m definitely hungry so you probably are, too. I can order something.”

“Sure,” you said, absentmindedly scrolling through your playlists before deciding to just hit shuffle on your liked songs and hope for the best. You prayed something from your middle school years wouldn't come up in the queue. “Don’t dog on my music, Gene.”

“Why would I . . .” Gene trailed off as the tune to Taylor Swift’s “You Belong With Me” started playing. He held your gaze and you held his. This was definitely not the song you wanted to be the first to play, but at least it was more in tune with your current taste. “What is this?”

“Music.”

“Y/n.”

“You said you wouldn’t dog on my music, Gene.”

“False. I never said that. You said that and then didn’t even give me the chance to agree, so I can dog on your music all I want.”

“But that’s mean. You shouldn’t do that.”

“I want you to give me a good look, Y/n, and tell me if I've ever cared about being mean.”

“You’re being very judgemental for someone that recognized the song in two notes,” you said, raising a brow at him in question. “You got experience with this song?”

“Of course I know this song. It’s Taylor Swift.”

You hummed in disbelief, side eyeing him and looking him up and down, before turning the volume on your phone up and setting it on the counter. “Sure. I’ll believe you, I guess. Anyway, what were you thinking to eat?”

“I was just gonna DoorDash Chick-fil-a,” he said, tapping on his phone. “Sandwich and fries good?”

You nodded. “With Dr. Pepper. And I can pay you back for mine.”

Gene waved you off, standing from the stool he sat in and sauntering over to the fridge. He didn’t look up from his phone, but somehow he knew where exactly a cold can of Dr. Pepper sat and placed it in front of you. “It’s fine. I got it, bunny.”

“You already let me come over for the project, I can-“

“A project we both needed to work on,” he cut in, setting his phone to the side. “I don’t mind paying. As you said, I’m in a different tax bracket so it’s basically pennies to me.”

He gave you another one of his stupidly adorable downturned smiles before laughing at the sight of your unimpressed expression.

“Let me pay you back, Gene.”

“I will not accept your money.”

“I’ll sneak it in your bag.”

“And I’ll put it right back into yours.” Gene raised his brows, holding your gaze once again. His was clear, and it seemed to click in your head just how pretty his eyes were. “I’m paying.”

You huffed, making it much more exaggerated than it needed to be. “Fine. But don’t think I owe you anything big or something! I’ll pay next time, okay?”

Despite the butterflies that seemed to have found themselves flapping in your stomach (when did those get there?), you still knew Gene. You knew he often took small favors and then held them over people’s heads. I did this for you so you do this for me. That’s one of the ways he would get people, and you refused to fall for it.

“What could you even do for me?”

“I’m not joining the Shadow Knights,” you said. Gene rolled his eyes.

“You’re basically already in it.”

“Am not. There’s a difference between being in it and being friends with the people in it.”

“Right.” Gene scoffed. “Sure, bunny. If that makes you feel better.”

You weren’t sure how it happened, but it wasn’t long until the food came and you decided to take a break. You and Gene settled yourselves on the couch and scrolled through his Hulu account, trying to find something to fill the time until you decided to get back to work.

“I can’t believe you’re making me watch 90 Day Fiancé,” Gene said, letting the remote drop onto the coffee table before leaning back. He propped his legs up, crossing them at the ankles.

“You literally clicked on it without my comment,” you replied. You were sitting on the opposite end of the couch, as far away from him as you could get. Your legs were pulled up to your chest and you had precariously balanced your food on the armrest.

“Can’t believe you’re making me watch 90 Day Fiancé,” he repeated, letting out a prolonged sigh. It made you chuckle, and you glanced over at him just to find that he was already looking at you.

“You’re so dumb.” You rolled your eyes and looked away. If you had to look at him any more you might explode. What from, you weren’t entirely sure.

You imagined he rolled his eyes as well, but he definitely reached over to playfully hit your arm before pretending he did nothing. When you turned to chastise him, his eyes were trained on the TV, and he was clearly holding back a laugh. You decided not to say anything, and just continued eating.

Somehow, some way, you shifted closer to Gene. It wasn’t so close that you were touching or anything, and there was still nearly an entire cushion between the two of you, but you did shift closer. And somewhere among the easy conversation and unexpectedly passionate debates and criticisms of the show’s choices, you found yourself wanting to get used to this.

—

You were on your way out of the house with Katelyn when the sound of Gene’s voice stopped you. When you looked back, he was leaning against the doorway. Behind him you could see the completed dollhouse that had been moved to the coffee table so he didn’t forget it in the morning.

You had to look up slightly to be able to look at Gene properly, and it made your face hot. He leaned against the doorway in the same way you imagined the love interests in the books you read to, and that thought did nothing to quell the butterflies that had been present since . . . Well, you weren’t sure.

“Zenix and I are heading over to Sasha’s for a movie night on Friday, if you want to come,” he said. He reached up to run a hand through his dark curls. You could tell he had gotten hot because now he only wore a tank top undershirt instead of the flannel he had layered on top of it.

It took you a moment to gather yourself, but you nodded. “Yeah, I-I’d love you.”

Hearing yourself stutter only made you more flustered. Gene caught it and smiled, and you could tell he was about to tease you about it because his lips turned up.

“You’d love to?” he said, pitching his voice higher in a sad attempt to mimic yours. He laughed when you playfully hit him across the chest. “We were planning on staying the night and going to the fair Saturday morning.”

You could only nod again. “Yeah, that works. I might not stay the night, but I can definitely come to the movie and fair with you guys.”

Gene gave you a swift nod and pressed his lips together. “Cool. Uh, see you tomorrow, Y/n.”

You lifted your hand to offer a wave to Gene as you stepped down his porch. “Bye.”

He raised his hand as well, and watched you until you opened the passenger door to Katelyn’s car and stepped inside. When you looked back at the doorway, Gene was just closing the door.

It was late, and you and Katelyn were the last to leave the Accardi house because of that stupid physics project. It was a devil sent from the innermost circle of hell, you swore. There was no part of it that you enjoyed, and once Mr. Vega gave it back you planned on burning it until it was nothing but a pile of ash.

“So,” Katelyn started, dragging out the word as she pulled out of Gene’s winding driveway. “Wanna talk about anything? Something I should know?” You shook your head. “No? Not like, I dunno, your entire day with Gene. You were kind of acting weird.”

“I know!” You folded easily. So, so easily. It wasn’t hard to make you do that, but you especially couldn’t keep up any kind of front with Katelyn. All she needed to do was ask one open ended question and suddenly you were making her a word salad. “Katelyn, I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Woah. Okay. Maybe take a breath.” She clearly hadn’t been expecting that reaction. Normally she would’ve been more firm—she might’ve breathed along with you, but she was driving.

“It’s so . . .” You sputter like a fish out of water, trying to articulate sentences. All your words had left you, though, and there was not a single thought in your head except for panic. “It’s so weird! I don’t even know what’s happening. Suddenly out of nowhere I’m . . . Eh.”

You didn’t know how to articulate it into words, so Katelyn could only guess how you were feeling based on the exaggerated hand motions and awkward stuttering. Which she had never been good at explaining to herself, but based on the other information she had, she could take a guess.

But she wouldn’t voice her guess to you. She would keep it to herself because saying it would only make your spiral worse. She also knew you preferred to talk yourself into and out of situations, so she hoped you would be less sporadic by the time she dropped you off.

“I don’t even like him!” you exclaimed. You wanted to pull you hair out, and you almost did. You tugged at the ends of it and groaned. “I don’t even like him. Why is this happening?”

Katelyn huffed in amusement. ‘I don’t even like him,’ my ass, she thought.

“I don’t even know if we’re friends. I mean, I consider us to be friends, but what if he doesn’t? What if he thinks I’m just some girl that’s best friends with his best friend and he just wants me gone? What if-”

“Why are you so worried about whether or not Gene thinks you’re friends?” Katelyn asked, raising her brow and sparing you a quick glance.

“I don’t know!” You groaned again, sliding down in Katelyn’s passenger seat and pulling your knees to your chest. It definitely wasn’t the safest position in a moving vehicle, but it was the closest you could get to curling into a ball and falling through the earth. “I think I’m psyching myself out. Am I psyching myself out?”

“Most definitely.”

“I just- Ugh. I know you know I already thought Gene was cute, but today it was, like, way worse. Katelyn, he actually smiled.”

“He smiles a lot, I feel like?” Katelyn wasn’t actually sure. Every time she saw him, though, his lips were always curled up. Like he had something up his sleeve. It freaked her out sometimes.

“No, like he smiled, Katelyn. A genuine, actual smile.” You covered your face with your hands. You wanted the world to open up and swallow you just to get away from this weird feeling in your stomach. You wanted to get rid of the weird pull on your heart and get rid of whatever fog was messing with your head. “And his eyes are so pretty, oh my god. I’m going to die.”

Katelyn huffed, scrunching her nose. “Is this like the crash out you had when you realized you liked Laurance?”

“No.” You were very firm with it. You were so serious, in fact, that you returned to sitting like a normal person to look at Katelyn dead on to make your point. “It is not the same because I don’t like Gene.”

“Right.”

“I don’t! I don’t and I never will because he’s a bad, bad, terrible person and he doesn’t care about his actions or the consequences and he does illegal things and I don’t even want to be associated with him.” That’s what you had been told, anyway, and that’s the reputation that preceded Gene. It was natural for people to say that about him, so it was completely normal for you to think that.

Katelyn could feel that there was more you needed to let out. “But?”

“But he’s not that bad!” If you were in your room with her, you would’ve dramatically thrown yourself onto your bed like a distressed maiden. Instead, you settled for folding over and groaning at the car floor. “He isn’t that bad, at least to me, and I don’t know if I’m being delusional or if it’s true.”

Katelyn couldn’t help but laugh. She knew you were lying to yourself, because the only times she had seen you so passionate about something was your Silver Starlet routines and when you told her you liked Laurance. That was a very similar conversation to this one, except Laurance wasn’t a completely jackhead like everyone made Gene out to be, so there was a lot less back and forth.

“I think you are being completely insane,” Katelyn started. The two of you had made it back into what was officially considered Phoenix Drop, so there were more lights highlighting your face and running across your field of vision. “However, I say to give it like, a week, or something.”

“I see him in less than twenty-four hours.”

“O-kay.” Katelyn pulled to a stop at a red light, letting her hands drop from the wheel and taking the opportunity to look at you. “Then roll it over in your head until you see him tomorrow, I guess.”

“You are not helpful.”

You friend lifted her hands in surrender. “Hey, you are the one that decided to vent to me. The only romantic experience I’ve ever had is with Jeffory, and as of now we are in a rather happy relationship.”

You glared at her. Of course she had to bring up that her life was completely void of boy problems because of whatever excuse she pulled from a cup.

“Y’know, I thought you’d be a lot more judgemental about this.”

She shrugged. “I mean, I already knew you think he’s cute. For some reason. I’m not exactly happy or elated about it, but whatever, I guess.”

“Wow. So you just don’t care if he ends up axe murdering me and dumping me in the ocean.”

“Listen, that’s on you if you decide to spend more time with Gene. If he kills you, obviously I will kill him in return, but at your funeral I’m leaning down into your casket and whispering, I told you so.” Her face lit up green and she pressed on the gas. The sun had just set, so the sky behind her was a pretty violet color. “But also if you end up heartbroken because of him, that’s also your own fault because you know he isn’t the best.”

You huffed, turning to look out your window and leaning your head against the glass. “I don’t even like him, so I’m not going to end up heartbroken. You can only get heartbroken about something if you care about it.”

Katelyn glanced over at you, not quite believing your words because she knew you. She knew you were someone that did things slowly and then all at once without even realizing it. That’s what had happened with Laurance, and look how that turned out. Not only did the aftermath of that relationship leave you in shambles for multiple reasons, but she could also see that your breakup was still affecting you.

She just hoped that you ended up happy, even if your happiness meant being with what she would consider the vermin of Phoenix Drop High. She also hoped that for your sake, you would realize what was happening before everything came all at once and you drowned.

it's been a while but I hope y'all enjoy until the next time I update because it might be another while lmao (school is killing me im so tired)

but anyways! i'm going to bed (< a complete lie) I love y'all have a good day mwah

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[zvahlne]

why did laurance put his sword AWAY to hit gene lmao

no wonder he got taken out instantly. see laurance, sasha used this thing called a SWORD to hit you.....

look at him. this idiot brought fists to a sword fight. actually he brought a sword to the sword fight and then he put it away when the sword fight started. why? who knows. the inner machinations of cocolaur's mind are an enigma. perhaps if he had another appearance we could begin to understand