#spaqueuetti

[uwa-so-frisk]

non-binary frisk aesthetic --------------------------------- pacifist run 4 lyfe amirite - pictures from pinterest -

[ianasagao]

“What? No! I wasn’t staring… I-I was looking at something behind you!” caddimoose maybe

40 prompts. 

Ian has a tendency to lose himself in his focus. He’ll be getting close to a new high score, or he’ll be preparing to make a really good point in a debate, and it’ll be like nothing exists except that moment. 

Knowing this, the Hidden Block members have long since taken it upon themselves to see how far this focus goes. It isn’t unusual for them to screw about in the background while Ian complains about something; they received quite a few injuries due to this, but from it, they’ve learned that he’s all but in a different world.

Today, he’s turned his attention to group projects and how they aren’t as necessary for the future as educators claim they are. He’s making plenty of good points, but no one is exactly arguing – they were just letting him run his course. 

He leans forward, placing his hands on the table as he speaks; his brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, he may as well be discussing militant plans as complaining about schoolwork. 

Wallid winks at the rest of the table before dropping below the table, not even bothering to be subtle, and for good reason – Ian barely glances in his direction before moving on. Wallid is no doubt planning to tie his laces together, and the entire table is lively with the knowledge that Ian’s going to hit the ground because of it. 

Though Caddy isn’t anywhere near Ian when it comes to levels of focus, he hardly notices the prank Wallid’s pulled; there’s something entrancing about Ian’s rants (except not entrancing, because that includes a positive connotation). Maybe it’s because Ian isn’t prone to long statements unless he’s doing something like this; it can be (not entrancing, not engaging, none of that) something. 

Ian straightens up at the same time that Wallid returns to his seat, the former none the wiser. Taking the first breather he has in a while, Ian stares over their heads and bites his lip. It’s brief, and he spills into a secondary rant only moments later, but as … intrigued as Caddy is, it’d be impossible for him not to notice. 

The bell rings just as Ian runs a hand through his hair; he blinks, taking a moment to bring himself back to the real world, his hand still hovering over his head. Caddy isn’t so aware – he’s still sitting there thinking about how idiotic Ian looks when Ian takes notice of his gaze.

“What are you staring at, James?” His tone is sharp, as if he can’t even consider the fact that someone would be looking at him after he wastes a half hour debating with no one; then again, if it was anyone other than Caddy, he wouldn’t care at all. When Caddy doesn’t react quickly enough, he repeats himself, louder.

Caddy sits up abruptly, his cheeks burning (with anger, that’s it); of course Ian would notice this – Jimmy could stack all of Ian’s food together without being glanced at, but Caddy can’t even exist in the general vicinity. “Not you. I was – I was looking behind you.” 

It isn’t his best excuse, and Ian knows it. Before Ian can shoot back with any kind of insult, Caddy stands, muttering about being late to class; anything to get the last word in. 

“Have fun looking behind the teacher!” Hardly clever, but it got Ian’s point across well enough. Ian rolls his eyes and begins picking up his own lunch, not noticing how everyone else hangs behind (he still hasn’t noticed his shoes, and they don’t want to miss it). “Behind me –”

“He stares at you all the time.” Jimmy cuts in, evidently just wanting Ian to move on, both literally and figuratively. “Don’t get mad about that when there are other things to do.”

“Like go to class.” Luke grins, finding no need for the subtlety of Jimmy’s nudging.

“All the time?” Ian repeats, ignoring Luke entirely. His words are far from irritated; if anything, he sounds surprised – some would venture to say flattered, but only if Ian was nowhere in earshot. He only dwells on the statement for a moment before rolling his eyes again, as if trying to force his mind to move on. “Doesn’t he have a life outside of me?”

Now completely ready to leave the situation, he moves; unfortunately for him, he doesn’t even make it past his seat before he topples, the remainder of his lunch more or less coating his jeans.

His first thought is how glad he is that Caddy isn’t around to see it happen. 

[ianasagao]

41 WITH LEVIAN TOO IVE GOT A REPUTATION TO UPKEEP

things you said ; accepting !

41) things you said you loved about me.

As intelligent as he is, Ian has a tendency to do less than perfect on tests. Essay questions come easily – he doesn’t even have to think about how the words need to sound – but he trips up on multiple choice exams.

He reads a question and knows the answer, only to become unsure when another option sounds viable. This tendency to overthink is the topic of the lunch conversation, as is the norm when a test has occurred.

Much of the table had taken these tests in the years before, and if anything, that made the commentary all the more interesting. Ian is well-aware that they’re thinking about what they remember of the exam.

“The dates are different only by month, so I think I know it, then I don’t.” He punctuates his rather angry complaint with a drink of milk; it provides such a comedic contrast that most of the table laughs. He glares at each of them in turn, but none of them falter.

Lev is the first one to bring the conversation back to what is had been. He taps his fork against his tray (to most people, it’d seem as though he was nervous, but everyone used to him knows that this indicates only thought) before speaking, apparently not caring that no one’s paying attention. “Dates can be hard to remember, anyways.”

Being the only one to really hear, Ian chuckles; to say that Lev messed dates up would be an understatement. This kindness lasts only as long as it takes for him to reply; he’s as indignant as ever in his response. “I don’t forget dates, I just get mixed up when they’re so similar.”

Lev shrugs, then nods, having no real advice to give – he just tries to excel in anything not involving chronology. Ian takes his silence as permission to continue his one-sided argument. “It just makes me mad. I’m supposed to be smarter than this – I mean, it’s a multiple choice quiz, not a formal debate.”

“You’re smart.” The compliment is stated more factually than affectionately; the only thing distinguishing it from any other comment Lev makes is the bright red hue of his ears. Ian starts to roll his eyes – he knows he’s smart – so Lev continues, trying to get his commentary in. “And good at formal debates. Very. I can’t do them.”

Ian finishes his eye roll, but it’s done much more endearingly. “You’re annoyed because you’ve never beat me in an argument.”

“Nah, that’s what I love about you.” As smoothly as he’s said it, Lev drops his fork on his tray and stands up. He’s not one for sweet nothings, and now that he’s said one, he’s ready to leave. “Studying.”

The near apology is unnecessary; Ian waves him off. He waits until Lev is just out of earshot before returning the sentiment.

[ianasagao]

“You’re a terrible cook.” LEV @ IAN FOR MY LIFE

( four word prompts )

The two aren’t exactly known for their shining romantic displays. Lev isn’t much for being touched without permission; Ian isn’t much for public displays of affection, anyway. Neither of them can whisper sweet nothings without getting embarrassed, and public endeavors only make things worse.

With these facts firmly established, Lev is just as surprised as everyone else when Ian drops a plate of brownies in front of him at lunch.

Ian doesn’t comment at all; briefly, Lev wonders why he’d choose lunch for this if he didn’t want anyone to pay attention to it. 

Despite Ian’s nonchalance, Lev is well aware of how his gaze cuts over to Lev every few seconds, clearly waiting for some kind of reaction. Lev takes his time, picking up the post-it note with his name written on it in a nearly painfully neat script.

It isn’t until Ian has grown visually annoyed and half the surrounding table is watching that Lev finally picks up a brownie. Based entirely on visuals, he isn’t expecting anything delicious; silently, he chastises himself for being pretentious.

Even with his expectations, the bite he takes catches him off guard. He blinks, sets down the brownie, and takes a drink of water, all without saying a word. He then turns to Ian and proclaims, without an ounce of cruelty, “These taste terrible, Ian.”

Ian’s eyes widen, but he quickly catches himself; Lev’s honesty becomes a normal thing after a while. Still, Ian rolls his eyes and reaches for a napkin to absentmindedly fold. “You’re welcome, Lev.”

“Oh, thank you.” Lev says, focused on the brownies in front of him. He doesn’t as if Ian wants advice before he begins, running down a mental checklist. “Less baking soda -- you shouldn’t be able to taste it. Take them out of the oven before they’re done. Always put coffee in chocolate things, no matter what the recipe says.”

He probably would’ve continued had Ian not picked up one of the incriminating brownies and pressed it against Lev’s teeth. Lev is forced to pause and reach for another drink just to get the bitter taste out of his mouth. 

“Maybe,” Ian is quickly cut off by Lev sticking out his tongue in an overly exaggerated manner, but he continues soon enough. “Maybe you should just teach me, oh great expert.”

Lev claps his hands in quick response, a better affirmative than any words ever were; Ian turns back to his meal and pretends nothing had happened at all. They’re back to normal, but a thousand times happier for it.

[ianasagao]

“ i don’t think i can keep this up much longer. ” ALSO HUNGER GAMES AU LEVIAN

They’re famous in their own right. Ian had – quite unintentionally – made the capitol love him when he’d responded to classic “Are there any girls you’re leaving behind?” question with an eye roll and a “Guys, thank you.” Lev, meanwhile, had mentioned his ex-boyfriend in passing, none too cheerfully.

And then the audience had decided to associate them with each other, because that’s what audiences do.

It isn’t exactly a shock when their mentors all but force them into an alliance. Anything for sponsors, after all.

The two train beside each other and try their best to seem like best friends, at least. It isn’t exactly smooth, but onlookers would believe it.

“Does anyone really think this is realistic?” Ian begins one day, fully prepared for an inconsequential rant. Lev doesn’t react, his fingers fluttering over some demonstrative wires; he’s a district five kid, through and through. Ian has been waiting for him to finish for fifteen minutes, and his bored appearance reflects that. “You don’t really think the arena will actually have any of this just sitting around, do you?”

“Good thing you know how to work with fabrics, huh?” Lev’s response comes back so evenly that he could pass it off as a genuine compliment, but Ian recognizes it for what it is. Before tensions can get too high, Lev continues, his hand finally settling on a coil of wire. “Nothing about the games is realistic.”

“That isn’t what I meant.” Ian protests. Lev nods, too focused on his own work; he strokes the exposed metal at one end of the wire, then drops the coil.

“I guess we just have to be good fakers.”

It’s difficult to keep clever banter up while fighting for one’s life, but they do regardless. Otherwise, there would’ve been no reason at all to be in an alliance; neither of them brought anything especially useful to the table.

The first night is frantic, with them struggling to hide in the open expanse of the arena, trying their hardest to avoid other signs of civilization. The second night, they’ve formed a small shelter, and they don’t feel the need to stay completely on edge.

It’s cold, because it’s a desert, something neither of them had noticed in the panic of the night before. It only takes a few minutes of shivering for Ian to pull Lev closer to him. Lev stiffens, but accepts it soon enough, because -- well, it’s cold, and besides, their mentors have got to love this!

Sure enough, just as Lev is closing his eyes, a silver parachute falls. Ian slides it closer to them, but he doesn’t open it, evidently as tired as Lev. The parachute now sitting safely by their heads, he buries his face in Lev’s neck -- performing for the camera, Lev is sure.

Just like he’s sure that it’s all a performance when, a good ten minutes later (because of course Lev couldn’t sleep, as if the situation wasn’t awkward enough), Ian mumbles “Not looking forward to losing this.”

Even though it’d been ages, and he was too quiet for the camera to hear, and they’d already gotten their reward -- because admitting anything else would mean forcing Lev to admit it to himself.

[ianasagao]

"You and me against the world. Always." LEVIAN UNWIND P L E A S E

sentence prompts ; not accepting. 

For every horrible, disgusting, unforgivable thing that has occurred in Lev’s life since he ran away from home, there’s been something that makes life ever so slightly bearable. 

For now, that thing is a snarky, self-righteous jerk with a smirk that any parts pirate could make good money off of.

Lev is nursing a solid cut on his cheek and cheerfully considering if it’ll form a scar. He’s long since stopped caring about his skin, and in any case, it’s less valuable when it’s torn up. Ian is standing a few feet away, standing guard – as if anyone’s likely to come traipsing through the woods for no reason.

Lev hums, and Ian offers him only a soft glance. Only weeks before, such a noise would’ve prompted Ian to groan with irritation, but he’s since grown used to Lev’s search for stimulation. Besides, Lev likely looks too pathetic to truly feel disdain for; his hair is ratty, and the blood from his injury is only serving to further stain his clothes. 

Awols are typically a mess; it isn’t as though they’re able to run off and take a shower whenever the mood strikes them. That was one of many things that Lev missed about his prior life, but even he would admit that he got used to the grime after a while. 

Lev’s cheek is still bleeding, but he’s since turned his attention to the leafs covering the ground. At first, he’d been considering if these could be used as bandages, then he was wondering if he was allergic to them, and eventually, he’d ended up where he is now – admiring the vibrant colors of the foliage. 

Perhaps noticing the lapse in response, Ian clears his throat. “It’ll be getting dark soon.” Of course, they have nowhere to go, but with the dark comes a new set of problems. They had to at least locate a nice overhang to sit under.

Lev stares at the leaves a beat longer before picking one up and stuffing it in his pocket; he responds to Ian’s silence with a sheepish laugh. “Something to remember. Who knows, I might not see this again.”

Ian frowns and clears his throat, reminding Lev of what he’d been used to when they first met up (it was the middle of the night, and Ian was hiding behind a garbage can in the same alley Lev had chosen to catch his breath in). Even Lev is capable of catching the change in the mood; he matches Ian’s expression and stands up, hands fluttering at his sides.

“So, finding a place to sleep?” Ian speaks before Lev has to stutter his way through an apology for his – his joke? he’d meant for Ian to chuckle, but he hadn’t exactly been kidding. Lev bites his lip then nods, his hands still causing a commotion; constant movement is a necessity.

By the time the two find a shallow ditch safe from prying eyes, the sun is setting and Lev’s cut is scabbing over. Sleeping in the dirt and rocks is never an exciting experience, and the two spend quite a while shifting about in obvious discomfort instead of actually sleeping.

Eventually, it is dark except for the stars, and quiet except for the sound of their breathing. Lev is scratching at his cheek with closed eyes, a fact he isn’t aware of until Ian pulls his hand down. Their fingers stay intertwined for just a few moments too long, and right then, with the night sky above them, Lev could swear he’s home.

[ianasagao]

12 W ELITOWN UNTIL DAWN VERSE THEYRE LIKE CHRASHLEY

( angsty drabble meme ) 

12. “Let go.”

The forest seemed quieter than it should be. Eli hadn’t expected a chorus line, but it seemed the outdoors should’ve had more sound than the wind and the leaves crunching underfoot. The relative silence left her clinging to Luke’s arm; he seemed just as unnerved.

Ignoring this premonition would be their first mistake.

They’d been separated from the rest of the group during the first attack -- Eli realizes with a start that this had been less than an hour before. She didn’t understand these creatures stalking them -- didn’t even know what they were called, if they had a name at all -- but every moment she didn’t see one left her more on edge.

“They’re probably ... distracted.” The horror she feels leaks into her voice, and she closes her eyes to hide any tears. Luke hesitates, then keeps walking, guiding her as best as can. Distracted can mean any number of things, and none of them are preferable. 

“Hey, we’re safe, aren’t we?” He doesn’t wait long for a response before continuing, perhaps realizing how subjective his question is. “They’re smart! If we’re alive, so are they.”

This isn’t at all reassuring -- Eli wouldn’t define their situation as anything but negative -- but she nods, moving as close to him as she possibly can while still walking. She doesn’t verbally respond, and he doesn’t press her.

The muted nature of their surroundings presses around them so thickly that a rustle of leaves off to the side catches their attention easily. As dark as it is, Eli cannot fully make out what made the noise, but she knows it’s something she wants to escape.

Luke comes to the same conclusion and gasps, tugging her arm (gently, but with a fervid repetition). They make eye contact, then break into a run, fingers still tightly intertwined.

The rustling grows louder, before being pierced with a violent screech. Eli doesn’t allow herself to turn, doesn’t even allow a wince to interfere with her running, but she doesn’t need either of those things to know that they’ll be extremely lucky to outrun this.

For a few seconds, their pursuer is silent. Eli has enough time to wonder if they’ve made it when Luke falls.

His fingers slide through hers, and she’s desperate in her attempt to bring him back. The tears she’d been holding back spill over as she finally grips his wrist. So focused is she on this that it isn’t until that moment that she realizes how high they are.

Luke tries to grab the edge of the cliff, a branch, anything; he misses completely, and Eli has to rearrange her wait to keep him from sliding further. In the near background, there is a screech; her eyes widen, and his close in defeat.

“Let go.”

At first, she’s certain she’s heard incorrectly, but he repeats himself, clear as day despite its strained nature. 

“Luke --” Her argument is cut short but another scream, closer now, and he shakes his head. Her hair whips around her face, making it impossible for her to clearly see him. She can’t decide if it’d be worse to watch this or to not be able to see him before whatever happens. “Please, I can’t -- Luke --”

“Eli.” He says it with the same amount of love as always, and that makes it worse. “Let go.”

The world had never seemed so loud.

[ianasagao]

'6) things you said under the stars and in the grass' for elitown and my tears

things you said ; accepting !

1. she’s always had a love for the stars above; sometimes, her breath gets caught in her throat, as overwhelmed as she is with the beauty of it all. he doesn’t enjoy the aesthetic quite as much as she does (if only because few could), but he loves sitting out in a field and stargazing as much as anyone else.

his hat is sitting slightly askew – she’d knocked it over when she’d shoved him in her laughter. she’s since calmed down to focus on the view, and so has he, but if he glances away from the stars to the company he’s in once in a while – well, nobody needs to know.

she squints at the sky, trying to seek out the good stars, the ones that would be invisible if she and luke were any closer to the lights of the school. her hair fans across her back and piles on the ground, and he could probably study it forever.

he tilts his head back to match her position at the same moment that he reaches for her hair -- she notices immediately, of course, but he doesn’t so much as falter before grinning at her. “there’s grass all in your hair. trying to save you some time later.”

the way she stares at him for a moment longer, her mouth twitching, makes it evident she doesn’t believe him in the slightest, not that luke minds. by the time she finally returns her gaze to the stars, her smile is wide, if subdued; meanwhile, he’s chewing on his lip with a sheepish grin and rosy cheeks.

2. it becomes tradition for them to meet up -- they walk to the field once a week, every two weeks if they’re particularly busy, and they sit and stare at the sky. sometimes they talk, sometimes they don’t; sometimes, luke will bring along a bag of crisps and eli will stare at him with mock disapproval. he’ll offer her a few, and she (and her resolve) will dissolve into laughter.

grass allegedly being in her hair becomes just as important as a tradition as the star-gazing itself. he’ll pick up a strand and pull away an imaginary blade of grass, then he’ll suggest a new (and always unfortunate) hairstyle for her to switch to.

the day she sits in front of and pushes her hair behind her ears feels like a day he should mark as an anniversary. and that’s cheesy, and he knows it, but he also knows that from every day henceforth, he runs his fingers through her hair while she hums or tells stories. 

at some point in the night (typically towards the end; he’s taken it as a cue to get ready to go back), she’ll reach back and grab his hand, and the two will sit with fingers intertwined until one stands up.

one night, he waits until they’ve been holding hands for a few moments and whispering ‘hey,’ so softly he may as well have been dreaming. when her breath hitches, he grins (apparently, space isn’t the only thing to garner a reaction out of her) and leans closer.

before he even finishes his declaration that “holding your arm like that must hurt, lee,” she’s shoved him away, but she’s laughing again, and her cheeks are burning, and luke has never been more delighted to be part of a moment.