The Poison In My Veins...SatoSugu

The poison in my veins...SatoSugu🩵🩷

All hail the creator nendesignx on Instagram

if his sorcerer career ends i hope he does porn

art by: Bom61487782 on twt!

i don’t even have words for how freaking good you write him/them🙏

love and deepspace drabble — “partner”

—“don’t you trust me to wait for you?”

—or, alternatively: the first time they become partners

—xavier/mc

—notes: I thought this would be part of a longer fic. maybe it will be. I have a 5 page WIP with a dozen different scenarios and I don’t know where it’s going. I haven’t written in a long time, and this feels like an ‘in between the moments’ piece more than anything. I’m still in the process of moving so I thought I’d post something I already made a while back while I’m on break! it’s simple and short but enjoy (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

—warning: maybe mild “shooting star” anecdote / myth spoilers

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You remember sitting next to him, pencil in hand, doodling a flower in your notebook during art class.

“Do you like flowers?” you write at the top corner of the paper, tapping over it twice so he would notice. He is torn between paying attention to you or listening to the teacher, but you both have gotten into enough trouble to know what he will choose.

He glances at you, a small smile on his face, and shrugs. Then he begins writing, “It depends. Do you like flowers?”

His smile is so boyish and cute; it makes your entire face red enough that you have to turn away. Joy blooms in your chest and you have to suppress the sudden urge to smile like an idiot.

When you face him again, he is looking at you, his eyes the reflection of a clear blue sky before rain. The intensity of his gaze causes the heat to spread to your ears and neck; you almost forget yourself, but he mimics you and taps over his note.

Oh, right!

“Yes,” you reply.

He looks pensive before he scribbles again. “What do you like more, stars or flowers?”

You pretend to be deep in thought and tap your pencil on your chin. Then, “I like both,” you write; you’re aware it’s cheeky, and your grin is as wide as it is mischievous. You draw a large star around the flower you first drew, and put a comet tail so it looked like it was shooting off to space.

Xavier shakes his head in amusement. “That’s greedy,” he writes.

You wanted to retort but the sound of loud chatter stops you. Your classmates had begun to move their chairs; your art exercise was starting, and the girls of your class are quick to ask Xavier to be their partner.

You pout and watch them from the corner of your eyes as you begin to pack up your notebook. You clearly weren’t listening to the teacher, so you had no right to complain that you didn’t ask Xavier first when you didn’t even know what was happening.

You’re about to stand when Xavier calls your name.

“Where are you going?”

You pretend to be anything but upset. “I’m off to look for a partner,” you say, brushing an invisible speck of dust from your skirt.

“You’re not choosing me?”

When you look up at him, he looks like a sad puppy, and you try and pretend it didn’t make your heart didn’t skip a beat.

“I thought someone else beat me to it,” you mumble.

The breath he releases is mixed with a laugh. He looks relieved, you think, and before you can try to understand why, he leans forward.

“Don’t you trust me to wait for you?”

You place a hand on his forehead to try and push him away. “You’re too close!” you say, and suddenly everything is warm; he chuckles at your reaction, a sound low and pleased, and the vibrations of his laugh resonate under your palm. The sensation travels through straight through your chest, and your heart is feels tight enough that your head is lightheaded; you’re not quite sure if you’re coherent enough to form a witty retort, so you settle with the truth.

“O-of course I trust you.”

Xavier seems content with that.

With a small smile, he takes your hand.

“Let’s go then,” he rasps, entwining your fingers, “—partner.”

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—end? or the beginning?

the gang and THE doodles

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