#Lee! White Hat

[numberonelittlechild]

-"LILIANA, YOU FOHOHOHOHOHOHOL!!! I WILL DESTROY YOHOHOHOHOHOU!!!"

-"Hmhm! Sure you will, blackie~!!"

Dang I was so struggled to make this- but... But hey! At least it's finished :3! Have the first tickle art I made! I will post here dudes! I hope y'all like it! XD! Also a little gift for my friend @jav-animations-👌💕

(don't worry, I have some tickle arts I'll post when I can :])

[m-jay-gee]

cant believe pinocchio found where the white women are at!!! so proud of him!!

[catboyrightsdefender]

*insert the usual horny comment*

[lee-pace-yourself]

[kpop-bbg]

[barcodeboyz]

My Top 10 Best ERB Verses

HM. Cleopatra (verse 2)

It feels like a crime to not include this verse because it drops one of the most brutal lines in all of ERB history. "You lost so many babies we should call you Miss Carriage" is a line that damaged Marilyn so bad she got 3 verses instead of 2. I've never seen a battle do that before. While it does not make the full list, it deserves recognition for being as brutal as it is.

HM. Joan Rivers (verse 1)

Although I agree with my placement of this verse, this is easily one of my favorite verses in the whole series. Joan is RUTHLESS, especially her disses against Bill Cosby. "My sex jokes offend, you're on the sex offender registry//Who you wearing right now? Is that state penitentiary?" is one of my favorite bar sequences in the series as well. I was first introduced to Joan Rivers after I watched her Gwar interview, and this performance of Joan is just spot on and great. I certainly think it won the battle; I just think it was stronger than Robin Williams' verse. With that being said, let's get on to the countdown!

10. The Cat in the Hat (verse 1)

What a way to start a list. I don't know about any of you, but I remember being a kid and seeing this episode for the first time and being absolutely blown away by the surprise rapping from the Cat in the Hat. Although it's arguable that Shakespeare won the battle, Cat in the Hat came through with serious punches that would have been complimented by better rap partners.

9. Walter White (verse 1)

This is the first of many entries on this list to feature a verse that could be interchanged with another verse from the same rapper. Walt had a fire line with the Shane comment, but his first verse is what cemented his intentions in the battle, which was to completely rip into Grimes' character. The Walkers line is also extremely creative to me, which puts it here.

8. Albert Einstein (verse 1)

As much as I want to place this higher, it fits in at number 7 because it starts out ruthless, then mellows out a little bit when momentum could have continued. "Take a seat Steve, oop, I see you brought your own," is a completely savage bar. The Wall-E line is also good, but I feel like they could have used Zach's energy here and shot up to 10. But it still makes this list because it is absolute savagery.

7. Babe Ruth (verse 2)

This verse encompasses what a rap battle verse should do; tear down the opponent with the truth, raise yourself and your accomplishments up, and provide absolutely ruthless (pun intended) lines in the process. Ruth does all these things, shaming Armstrong for his use of steroids, building himself up with his accomplishments in baseball, and getting one dirty punch in with the final line.

6. Mansa Musa (verse 2)

I am going to come out and say it, I was so hyped to find out Scru Face Jean was in an ERB. He is an incredibly talented rapper, and his commentary on other ERB videos is hilarious. He brought in that mix of humor and talent and dropped one of the hardest verses on this list.

5. J. Robert Oppenheimer (verse 1)

We are now at the point in the list where every verse has given me chills in one way or another. Peter absolutely nailed the Oppenheimer impression, with the very breathy rapping and educated way of attacking his opponent. From start to finish, the reason this verse placed here instead of his second verse was because of how well his introduction is made. "There is no balance" is a bone chilling portrayal of Oppenheimer from Peter, and the paired music add to the atmosphere.

4. Stan Lee (verse 1)/Walt Disney (verse 1)

I know, I know. Tying two verses from the same battle is a cop out. But I legitimately could not pick between the two. The musical accompaniment of an ERB is extremely important, and it is really shown here. The narrator hyping up the two combatants sets the tone for how the battle should be, and Stan Lee followed that tone perfectly with references galore, while also finding ways to punch at Henson. And Disney comes in here as well because it is extremely real to see; a lot of companies have been bought out by Disney, so seeing him come out as this all powerful being is fitting. This is one of the best battles they have ever made, and these verses both deserve their placement here.

3. Terminator (verse 1)

I was really stuck between this and my pick for 2nd, but ultimately chose this order because I found the next entry to have just a little more power to it. But that being said, this is one powerful verse. From the very beginning, Terminator is going to absolute war, which only gets more vicious as the verse continues. The final 4 lines of the verse ending with a reference to the movies is what sealed this placement for me, but the quick rapping, mocking Robocop's circumstances, and use of cgi really add to it.

2. Boba Fett (verse 4)

This battle was CRAZY. 8 verses in total, 4 for each combatant, with some lines that are straight up venomous from both sides. I ultimately chose this verse because of the quick rapping. I just think it works perfectly here; we've seen many examples of quick rapping throughout the ERB franchise, and I just think this is one of those examples that just shine through.

Hannibal Lecter (verse 2)

If you know me, you knew this was coming. I love Silence of the Lambs, and it was because this video introduced me to the character of Hannibal. Lloyd absolutely nails his mannerisms and speech patterns. As I said before this is one of those verses where I could have interchanged it with his first verse, but ultimately, I chose this one because it ended the battle and rebutted Jack's final verse, which was a little underwhelming in my opinion. And the lyrics here are just even better than his first verse in my opinion. "You prey on a prostitute and play with her body, I don't mind that you're naughty Jack, I hate that you're sloppy" is a bone chilling line, tearing into his combatant who spent his first verse building himself up without throwing any comments towards Hannibal. And that is just one of many lines in this verse that ultimately tear down Jack's verses.

Anyways, that's my list on the best ERB verses in my personal opinion. These are not necessarily my favorite verses, but rather the ones I felt held their own in battle and fought hard from beginning to end. I intend on putting together a list of the worst ERB verses, but I'm unsure when I plan on doing that. What do you guys think? Is there a verse you guys think should have placed?

[ares857]

internet find

[frenchtwistresistance]

Tempted to start a recurring segment of Match Game Who Wore It Better (but it’d inevitably turn into mostly just Brett and Fannie trading ugly blouses😂)

(L-R Fannie episode 1265, Brett episode 1268)

[idkbutimgabby]

frat boy lino is superior and I don't even like fraternities

[inkskinned]

there are days that it is hard, and unfair, and some horrible part of me wishes i could have been born in a different world. i love being queer, i hate how others react to it. when i first came out at 15, my mom whispered: please don't say that. your life would be so much harder.

it is harder.

it is also a tuesday, walking my dog. we are both skiving off of work, and yes both of us have dyed hair and pronouns. mine is patchy - it was my first time trying bleach; i didn't have enough. theirs is a resilient toadstool green. a little girl comes up to us and asks um, excuse me? is your hair real? 'cause jason says you're a fairy.

it is sunday brunch, all of us talking over each other, overfull on love. she is trying out a new name today, and we made her a cake with today's name scrawled in shaky purple letters. she laughs so much she cries and then gets frosting in her hair. someone young at a different table keeps giving us these large, wide eyes: the same look we have all been on the other side of. the kind that says, breathless: wait, is that possible?

it is a half-fight in a supermarket because he loves "dance moms" and says abby's tiktok is funny and meanwhile i think the children in that show should be allowed to sue abby lee miller for child abuse. i tell him that it led to the casual acceptance of child harassment for mainly adult views; and then i am standing, suddenly, in someone else's thrown soda. there's a white lady standing there, furious, saying something about hell-on-earth. i had forgotten i was wearing stuff with pride colors. and then it is this: he had just been casually arguing with me - and within an instant, he squares his shoulders and goes after her like i am his sister

on saturday i sat in a circle while beca played with my hair and we were all over 30 and we laughed about how much happier we are being this old, how much more we appreciate our community. 25 minutes from now, we will be on stage to dance in baggy beige clothing, but for now we look on with envy to the dancers in loud-and-bright buttondowns. where are they getting these shirts! i cry, distraught. everyone laughs. one of our friends has a mushroom witch hat. this would have been cringey in high school, probably. instead we are all delighted with each other; happy just to be here and alive and moving

it's that last week my new friends cried with joy for me when they heard i'm getting top surgery. every so often i have the honor of being the first person someone feels comfortable enough to tell. i'm trying to make long fluttery butterfly wings to wear to pride; but i don't know anything about fabric or dye, so my friends have been sending me their personal advice.

i think in a different poem i would talk about how sometimes you walk into a room and put the mask back on. but i'm sleepy and my whole brain is fuzzy so i think in this one, it's a monday, and my dog and i took a nap on a couch, and i had missed texts from friends. i used to wake up lonely. i think this poem is about walking into a room and seeing someone and just knowing, the way you just-know-sometimes, and then giving them that little smile, and seeing them light up with joy and relief. it is how we always seem to be able to find each other in a crowded room. how we always seem to make friends with each other before even we know-it-to-be-true. it is saying: we're very different people; but i belong to you.

it is harder, yes. but it comes with a built-in family.

[spicymancer]

So just wanted you to know, "yellow" is a common slur against Asian Americans and so Huang Feng, being a Bruce Lee (whos an Asian man) clone and all could raise some eyebrows to your intentions. And before i get accused of white knighting, i am Asian

Thanks for reaching out! This is honestly something that might be important to discuss and I appreciate your attempt at broaching the subject delicately. More after the jump.

So to start. I am also Asian. Specifically Chinese American.

As an American born Chinese, I have a weird relationship with my Asian heritage. I have a bad accent when I speak Chinese and most of my upbringing and cultural understanding is very American and western-centric. So I have certain biases at play here that I fully acknowledge. My experience is not universal. But these characters are drawn from that experience.

Huang Feng is a reference to Bruce Lee's performance as Kato in the Green Hornet. Dà Huángfēng being a Chinese term for a hornet.

The character is also narratively implied to be a secret moonlighting identity for the Yellow Ranger in my made-up sentai team. (Who, due to my own decision to always refer to the characters by their Ranger color, is literally just called Yellow by the other members of the cast.)

This is also a reference. Specifically to one of my greatest inspirations, Thuy Trang (Rest in Peace), who played the original Mighty Morphin Yellow Ranger. She was one of the first "Cool Asian Characters" that I encountered in media targeted at me as a child, problematic color choice aside. I sincerely adored her and her giant robot Saber-Toothed Tiger.

To be honest I have a complicated relationship with "Asian Themed" characters in media. So often saddled with cliché stereotypes: Martial Arts, dumplings, nunchucks, etc etc.

But the thing is, even as I roll my eyes whenever I see the Fighting Game character that is The Chinese One who wears a rice hat and a qipao. Or when one is literally just Bruce Lee. I do also immediately main that character. It's a bit of a guilty pleasure. Taking what representation I can get with mixed feelings. Similar to my enjoyment of sexy anime girl art even though it's all rooted in pretty uncomfortable sexist and objectifying aesthetics. A lot of my work comes from a place of exploring my own sexuality/identity. These characters are, partly, my own attempt to explore Asian themes and ideas for myself.

I would love to say that I'm trying to "reclaim" the term or something but I'm just some internet artist drawing cute anime girls and monster smut. For me, playing with these clichés is just another way of being self-indulgent.

Not really defending these creative choices so much as explaining my perspective on them. I totally understand if all this turns folks off! I fully respect those who don't vibe with my work and wish them all the best. It's a big internet and I'm sure they can find something super great to enjoy elsewhere!

Anyway, sorry for the long rambly post. Despite the fact that I'm posting this on Tumblr, I am not super mentally equipped to engage in Discourse, so forgive me if I don't respond to the tags on this.

So I'll just leave y'all with a neat article by Kat Chow discussing the history and usage of the color Yellow in regards to Asian Identity.

[liberalsarecool]

Lee Atwater would be proud.

Republicans are addicted to disrespect and racism. The white hoods are now red hats.

#VoteBlue

[skzdarlings]

02. sharing a bed series ; skz ; lee know

masterlist.

sharing a bed series part 2/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN.

-

pairing: lee know/reader content info: sexual content. friends2lovers, sharing a bed trope. reader&minho had an argument. reader gets pussy eaten. minho likes to tease.

inspired by the cinematic masterpiece known to the world as lee know log 9, aka that vlog where minho went camping and i never recovered.

-

There is a perpetual hum around the campsite, heaters and lamps and cookers buzzing through the night, plus the rain has started coming down harder.  Its restless patter over the tarp of the luxury tent is more a nuisance than relaxing. 

The noise is not why you are still awake.   Your insomnia is the cause of good old-fashioned guilt. 

You and Minho lost your reservation thanks to some traffic delays and the campsite only had single-bed tents available by the time you arrived.  You have been sharing a bed all weekend, but right now you are alone.  Minho stormed out an hour ago, claiming he needed a walk to clear his head after your argument.

The argument you started. 

All weekend, you’ve been testing Minho’s seemingly infallible patience.  Minho might joke around sharply, but he’s a secret softy and it’s hard to get him genuinely angry.  You could feel yourself being a ridiculous ass but, like everything else of late, it felt out of control.  You were like a third party watching your own stupid argument, unable to stop yourself and unable to help him.  He was the mature one, leaving to find some space.

Even if it was after calling you ridiculous and uptight.      

You didn’t cry.  You didn’t let yourself cry.  Maybe you can’t control anything else, but you can control that. 

Now, you just lay in bed and listen to the rain.  You can’t sleep anyway, so you leave the lights on for Minho.   The rain is coming down pretty hard.  You hope he gets back soon.   Much as you don’t want to face him, you are worried about him. 

As if summoned by your thoughts, the tent opens and Minho stomps inside.  He is wearing a backwards hat and a hoodie, neither of which did much to protect him from the downpour.  You look over your shoulder at him, watching him shake himself out.   The wet hat comes off and hits the ground with a slap, the hoodie following.  It leaves him shivering in a t-shirt and shorts, his jaw clenched. 

He turns abruptly, looking right at you.  There is so much intensity in his gaze as he stares at you, slicking his wet hair back.   An unbidden spark of heat bursts inside you.   I want him to look at me like that when he fucks me, you think.  The thought makes you whip away to stare at the white tent wall.  Your heart pounds.   That pounding intensifies when Minho struts up to bed, crossing the space in a few quick strides.  You don’t dare turn around, clutching the blankets and staring at the wall.

He turns off the lights.  Then you hear him leave, disappearing into the small bathroom joined to your tent. 

You exhale.  It takes a while to come down from the burst of adrenaline, but it has mostly dwindled by the time Minho returns.  You hear him moving about in the dark.  You lay straight as a board, your back to him. 

You stare through the dark at nothing.  You know you should apologize for earlier but you can’t bring yourself to speak.   You just breathe. 

Minho climbs into the bed.  It dips under his weight and you feel a flood of warmth from his company.  He has toweled himself dry and changed into sweatpants and a dry t-shirt.  He smells fresh and clean, and just a little woodsy. The bed is not very big so he bumps you as he lays down.  It makes your heart race again, which just makes you cringe. 

The rain has slowed.  It still patters against the roof of the tent, but gently.  

The quiet makes the silence between you even more tense.  It feels heavier than the blankets, dense and suffocating.   You swallow. 

The argument was your fault.  Everything that went wrong this weekend was your fault.  You’ve been on edge and quick to overreaction, uncharacteristic to your usual composure.  You could tell it was worrying Minho but he has never been the type to pry.  No, he waits until he is asked, which would be great if you knew how to ask.  Hug me, hold me, help me.   You don’t know how to ask for the things you want.   So you just continued to spiral, taking it out on him.  

It should be you turning around, you facing him, you apologizing, but it’s Minho who rolls over.  You freeze when he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight from behind.   He doesn’t quite kiss your shoulder, but he presses his face there for a second.  Wisps of his dyed blonde hair tickle your face.  You can imagine his eyes closing when he sighs. 

“I’m sorry,” he says.  “I shouldn’t have said that shit.  I don’t even know why we were fighting.  Just call it my fault, okay?  I shouldn’t have taken a city girl camping.”   

He is trying to joke with you.  His friendliness is what gets you.  Even after everything, he is still so good to you.   

You put a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle the sound when you start crying.  It’s a useless effort because your shoulders shake and Minho can feel it.  Resigned to your pitiful state, you let your gasps shudder out of you. 

“Hey, hey,” he says, rolling you onto your back.  He wipes his thumbs over your wet cheeks, staring down at you with his brow furrowed in confusion.  “I was just kidding.  I’m sorry.  Take a free slap.”  He grabs your hand and lightly taps his own cheek with it. 

It does make you laugh, but it’s a watery sound, rippling through your tears. 

“Minho,” you say miserably, “I lost my job.” 

Understanding fills his expression.  You can’t bear to look at him, so you roll towards him to hide your face in his chest.   He lets you, wrapping an arm around you and rubbing your back as you make a blubbery mess on his shirt.   You tell him the whole story, about the promotion you lost to someone else, about the sudden downsizing and subsequent firing.   You are someone who functions with meticulous planning so your life being upended sent you hurtling into an unfamiliar state of panic.  

“That’s why I went out alone the other night,” you say.  Your tears have slowed to hiccups by now.  “I know it was stupid and it made you mad.  I just felt like I was gonna explode.” 

Hopping bars and picking up random men is very out of wont for you.   That’s why you did it.  Minho was less than pleased when he found out you went wandering around downtown at night, inebriated and alone.   His scolding was reasonable but you were beyond reason.

He goes stiff when you mention it now, though he doesn’t stop rubbing your back. 

“I wasn’t mad,” he says after a minute.  “I was just worried.  And…”

You peek up at him.  He sighs and groans and yells all at once, an amazing feat of sound, throwing his head back so it thumps hard against the headboard. 

“I was jealous,” he says bitterly. 

“Jealous,” you say.  “Of me?”  

“Yes.”  He gives you a very sarcastic look.   “I wished it was me in that little black dress going out and—no.  Obviously not of you.  Why do you always torture me like this?   Go cry on the floor.”  He jostles you but jokingly, still holding you against him. 

You laugh a little, resting your head on his shoulder.  Your head feels fuzzy and you don’t think it’s from crying.  Minho just admitted he was jealous of you going out with some other guy.   It feels like your heart is doing circus tricks. 

“There was nothing to be jealous of anyway,” you say softly.  “We didn’t do anything.  He insisted he was, um, really good with, uh, his mouth, you know, but then, like, the more he insisted, um, you know me, I started thinking too hard and, um, he couldn’t make me, well…”

“Keep stammering.  It makes me feel less embarrassed about myself.”   

“Minho.”  You slap his chest.  His laugh is more of a maniacal cackle, his demeanour having shifted back to glee at your admission.   You lift your head to look at him, biting your lip, noticing how his eyes go to your mouth.  “He wound up leaving before it could go farther,” you say, your words startling him into meeting your gaze.  You know it’s a petty blow, but you can’t help but admit, “He said I was too uptight and left.”

Minho’s whole face scrunches up like he just got punched in the gut.   

“No,” he says.  “No.   You’re just saying that to bully me.  I didn’t call you the same thing as that idiot.”   

“It’s okay,” you say. 

“No.” He groans again, closing his eyes and kicking his feet.  “Ahhhhhhh.  I should be shot!”  

You are laughing properly now, clinging to him as he squirms in horror.          

“I’m sorry,” you say.  “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

“Oh really?”  He cocks an eyebrow at you, his mouth a grim line. 

“Well.”  You burst into laughter all over again.  “Maybe just a little!” 

He laughs hard at that, shaking his head, but still retaliates by tickling you.  Your laughter turns hysterical, peels of giggles as he pokes every ticklish inch of skin. 

“Minhoooo,” you whine to no avail.  He just grins and continues his attack. 

Your wriggling pushes the blankets off the bed.  You try and whack him with a pillow so that hits the floor too.  Soon it is just you and Minho and some dishevelled bedsheets, you on your back with him leaning over you.   You are both out of breath, both smiling.  His hands are by your head, cradling you under him, while yours are on his chest as if preparing to push. 

The room feels quiet, the silence again tense.  But this tension is not rife with the same uncertainty as before.   It is not guilt or shame, but a longing that comes from the whispered confession that he was jealous of the last man in your bed, the simple reality that he is sharing your bed right now.     

You do not push him away.  You hook your fingers in the collar of his shirt and pull.  His elbows bend as he swoops down, meeting your raised head.  He kisses you, deep and hot and slow, gently pressing your head back into the plush bed.  Your squirming is very different now, legs opening to make room for him to settle between them.  He feels so good on top of you, the feeling of his strong thighs between your legs, of his chest under your hands, wisps of hair brushing your face as he kisses and kisses and kisses you. 

The kiss ends when you are simply too breathless to continue.  He rests his forehead against yours, breathing hard. 

“Wow,” you say softly.  You look at him.  His dark eyes are often severe in a playful way and right now they are intense, seductive, and it isn’t a joke.   You touch his bottom lip, holding his gaze while he kisses the tips of your fingers.   “Just so you know, that kiss was way better than everything that happened the other night.”

He grins at that. 

“Oh,” he says.  “Really?” 

“Yeah.”  You watch him kiss your fingers again, then your palm.  He looks at you as he dips a little lower, kissing the inside of your wrist.  You are hypnotized by the heat of his dark stare, so you speak without thinking much.  “Everything you do turns me on, though,” you say.  “Even earlier, when you were crushing that garlic with the knife—”

His seduction breaks with a little laugh and he raises both eyebrows. 

“Garlic?” he asks.  “The garlic got you hot?”

“Don’t make fun of me,” you say, pouting.  “You already made me cry once tonight…”

“Oh, is that what happened?” he says.  “Sure, okay, let’s play.  I made you cry.   I should make it up to you?”

“Mhm…”

“Well then.”  He leans in close to kiss you but he lingers for a torturously long time, just hovering above your lips.   Then he abruptly pulls away.  He kneels upright and sits back on his heels.   

Confused, you push yourself up on your elbows.   He is looking around the room and tapping his chin thoughtfully.

“What is it?” you ask.   

“Hmm?”  He looks at you, tilting his head as if you are the confusing one.  “What?  I’m just looking for some garlic, since you’re into that for some reason.  Give me a minute to remember where I put it.”  

“Ahhh, I hate you!”  You flop back down, covering your face with your hands. 

Minho, diabolical creature that he is, throws back his head and laughs.  He tries to pry your hands off your face but you stubbornly hold on.  He sighs with theatrical exasperation and gives up.  

You hear the rustle of fabric.  Curious, you peek between your fingers.  Minho is staring down at you with a single eyebrow cocked, a smug little smirk tugging at his lips.  That smirk grows as he reaches back, flexing his arms before grabbing the back of his t-shirt and pulling.  Your hands fall away from your face completely, your eyes drinking in the gradual reveal of skin as he pulls his shirt off.   It lands somewhere on the floor, forgotten. 

“Okay,” he says, nodding curtly.  “Your turn.”  He makes a come-hither motion with two fingers.  “Come on.  Hurry up.” 

Your brain has short-circuited.  It takes a second to make sense of his request and another minute to actually do it.  You sit up long enough to peel your shirt off, then flop back down where you continue to stare at him.   You are checking each other out, looking up and down.   Your eyes goes over his bare chest and down, your mouth falling open. 

You breath catches when he cups his hardening dick through his sweatpants, rubbing the heel of his hand there. 

You meet his gaze, already breathing harder.

“What else then?” he says, still stroking himself through his clothes as he looks at you. 

“Uh, ah, erm, hm—”

“You said everything I do turns you on.”  He falls forward and catches himself on both hands, so suddenly you gasp.   Once again his arms cage you in, his face close to yours.  His hips come down heavy between your legs, his dick hard where it presses intimately against you.  “So,” he says.  “What else then?” 

“Oh.”  You are staring at his mouth, gaze heavy-lidded when he rocks against you.  “Um.  Well.  Sometimes when you’re driving in reverse and you put your hand on my headrest, it kinda—” 

Once again, his seduction attempt is thwarted when he can’t help but laugh.  He drops his head, laughing harder when you lightly smack him.    

“Stop asking if you’re just gonna laugh!” you say, even while laughing too. 

“Okay,” he says.  “Garlic and driving in reverse.  I’m learning so much.” 

“I’m gonna kill you.” 

“That would be very rude,” he says.  “Especially since I’m about to go down on you.” 

“You—wha—ohhh—”

You grab his head instinctively, fingers sinking into the natural dark roots of his dyed hair, just as he dips down to press kisses on your chest.  You arch under him as his mouth finds every sensitive spot, licking sweetly and biting meanly, as to be expected from Minho.  By the time he reaches the waistband of your shorts, you are panting and wriggling and clawing at him desperately.   

You don’t even have time to overthink.  The world and all its troubles fall away for the time being.  

You will figure things out.  You always do.  Right now, you let yourself lose control.   You usually hate the feeling, but in this moment you don’t mind at all, because Minho has you.   You trust him completely.  Surrender is easy.   

The rest of your clothes join the messy heap on the floor.  He runs his hand smoothly along the inside of your thigh before guiding it over his shoulder.   He kisses there, then kisses you excruciatingly chastely between your legs.  When you try and move, he keeps you steady, the sturdy hands that captivated you now holding you firmly in place. 

When he finally stops torturing you, he gives you everything at once: a long, hot lick right up your centre.  Again, your fingers find his hair.  He doesn’t complain or lose focus even though you are scratching at him a bit ferociously.  Ever a skilled worker, he stays on task.  It is so deft and swift and thorough; you get so wet and slippery that you can feel it running it down your skin.  

When you get close, your hips lift but he brings you back.  He looks up between your thighs as he brings you over the edge.  Your legs shake and your eyes close and you bite your hand just a little, trying not to be too noisy in the middle of the night at a campsite. 

He climbs back up when finished, looking like a very smug feline as he wipes his face on the back of his hand.   

“On a scale of garlic to driving in reverse—” he starts. 

You playfully cuff the side of his head. 

“That good?” he continues to tease. 

You roll your eyes but smile.   You think it is a seductive smile, but you do feel a little wrecked.   Still, you stay on task too, sliding your hand down his chest, down, down, down and—

“Oh,” you say.  You look down at the same time as him.  A noticeable wet stain is on the front of his sweatpants.  “You already—”

He flops down beside you and sighs.

“Sorry,” he says.  “You weren’t the only one amazed with my sexy performance.” 

“That’s okay,” you say with a laugh.  You roll over to rest your head on his chest.  His arm comes down around you, hand running down your naked back.  You giggle when he cups and squeezes your ass.  You dance your fingers down his pants to the wet spot where he came.  “I think it’s kinda hot, actually.” 

Minho came from eating you out.  Of course you think it’s hot. 

And of course he has to be Minho about it. 

“Okay,” he says.  “Garlic. Driving in reverse.  Premature ejaculation.  Uptight was definitely the wrong word.  I honestly don’t know if I can keep up with a freak like you—”

“Ugh!”  You roll away and turn your back to him, mostly to hide the fact you are laughing at his stupid joke. 

He follows you, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you from behind.  This time he kisses your shoulder properly, once, twice, three times.  All the way up your neck to your ear and just behind it. 

“You’re lucky I like you so much,” you whisper. 

“I like you too,” he whispers back, kissing your shoulder again. 

You smile and close your eyes, listening to the rain and letting yourself snuggle safely in his arms. 

[enlysia]

WINTER THINGS ❅.⊹₊ ⋆❆ ENHYPEN OT7

❛ my baby's in town and we're gonna do

some winter things ❜

enhypen and cute christmas drabbles / headcanons

genre — fluff pairing — bf!enha x gn!reader

warnings — cliché and tooth rotting fluff. comfort. skinship. lighthearted teasing. bad attempt at humor :/ lots of kisses :3

word count — 2.3k

this is a work of fiction, which does not accurately portray or represent the people included.

author note — this is my first literary attempt on here (i've wrote before though) so i hope you enjoy~♡ reblogs, likes and comments are so sooo appreciated >.< ALSO merry christmas lovies !

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⋆ ⠀˳. ⋆ ⠀˳. ⠀⋆ ⠀ 🤍 ⠀⋆ ⠀˳. ⠀⋆ ⠀˳. ⠀⋆

︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦︶

— LEE HEESEUNG (이희승)

a disco ball spins lazily overhead, casting scintillating light across the scene and highlighting your stunning features as you sing and dance with carefree abandon. the energy in the karaoke room is electric, pure ecstasy, filled with giggles and love as you and heeseung luxuriate in this festive experience together.

neon lights flicker, casting a fancy glow on the walls, while oversized snowflakes drift from the ceiling. tinsel wraps around the edges, and small christmas trees are scattered throughout, adding whimsy to the scene. the glossy ebony floor reflects the vibrance of the room, shifting in time with the music.

at center stage, side by side, you stand in matching festive sweaters, each one accentuated with cheeky designs, and santa hats perched jauntily atop your heads. the large screen ahead flashes the lyrics to holiday classics, like “last christmas,” inviting you to sing along. the microphone passes back and forth between you, laughter dissipating in the air as you alternate singing each line, teasing one another with exaggerated, dramatic performances. the energy is lighthearted, infectious—humor and charm woven into every note.

heeseung sings with effortless flair, his voice steady and angelic: “last christmas, i gave you my heart…”

you join in, your voice bubbly, slightly off-key: “but the very next day, you gave it away…”

heeseung grins, delivering the next line with dramatic finesse: “this year, to save me from tears…”

you slowly step closer, your motion calculated, a cheeky smile tugging at your lips, singing: “i’ll give it to someone special…”

crackles fill the atmosphere between you, the music fading as your eyes meet. the world around you seems to still, the tension palpable. without a word, you reach out, pulling him in for a soft, light kiss—brief, but sweet, leaving a flutter of butterflies in your chest. the moment feels unexpectedly intimate, a perfect harmony to the uplifting pandemonium surrounding you.

you pull away slowly, breathless, smiles blooming across your flushed faces. heeseung snickers, his eyes twinkling with affection. “guess i just gave you my heart.”

“best christmas gift ever,” you beam, your eyes sparkling with mischief, a playful contrast to his soft smile.

ㅤ──────────────────────────

— PARK JAY (박종성)

in the cozy warmth of the kitchen, you’re swept up in the joyful chaos of baking gingerbread cookies with jay. flour dusts the countertops and clings to your clothes, creating a soft, white duvet of mess around you—reminiscent of delicate snowflakes. laughter saturates the air as you take turns feeding each other pieces of raw dough, your fingers lightly dusted with flour as you gently press the sticky mixture to each other's mouths.

christmas songs echo through the culinary space, reverberating against the walls and in your chests as you both chant together, lost in the euphoria of the moment, exchanging loving glances that speak louder than words.

jay laughs, reaching forward to wipe a smudge of flour from your lips. “i don’t think we’re baking cookies anymore. i think we’re just making a mess.”

“we’re going to need a snowplow at this point,” you reply with a grin, flicking a bit of dough at him.

“it looks like we’ve been caught in a flour blizzard!” he exclaims, tossing a handful of flour at you like a snowball.

“you’re ridiculous,” you murmur, cracking up as you toss some back at him.

“didn’t know humans could create a snowstorm,” he teases, closing the distance between you, his flour-covered hands leaving fingerprints on your cheeks as he gently cups your face and sows a tender peck to your lips.

you lean in to return the sweet caress. the flour on your faces smears, only adding to the charm of the moment. your love fills the kitchen, blending with the warm, sweet scent of baking cookies and the gentle illumination of holiday lights dancing around you. it’s a perfect, simple moment of bliss, shared between you—lost in the miracle of the season and the alchemy of your connection.

ㅤ──────────────────────────

— SIM JAKE (심재윤)

the soothing notes of soft jazz sweep through the living room, blending harmoniously with the gentle sound of snowflakes tapping against the windows, creating a serene, wintery symphony.

you and jake stand close together beneath the christmas tree, its twinkling lights casting a comforting shine that waltzes across the homemade ornaments adorning its branches. the tree stands proudly in the corner, already surrounded by a growing pile of carefully bundled gifts.

laughter bubbles between you both as you wrap each other in sparkling tinsel. the lustrous silver and gold strands wind around you like a cozy winter cocoon, shimmering with each movement. playful bickering dominates the air as you both try to outdo each other, draping the tinsel in ever more extravagant loops, each determined to “mummify” the other in the most festive way possible. every touch unites you, a silent promise of love and connection woven into the twinkle of the tinsel.

the warmth of the moment engulfs the room and your hearts, as you revel in the sweet bond of togetherness and lighthearted disagreement.

“you’re wrapping it too tight! i can’t even move!” you object, attempting to wriggle free from the glossed restraints.

jake chuckles, clearly pleased with his work. “you look so festive... like the living version of the christmas spirit!”

“i look like i’m stuck in a tinsel straightjacket!” you groan, rolling your eyes dramatically.

jake’s grin widens, his eyes alive with mischief. “well, now you can’t escape all the kisses i plan to give you.” with that, he leans in, planting a series of soft, lingering kisses on your face, each one drawing a giggle from you despite your playful protests.

ㅤ──────────────────────────

— PARK SUNGHOON (박성훈)

beneath the soft glow of twinkling christmas lights, you stand at the edge of the ice, at the heart of a vintage ice-skating rink. the rink’s aged charm is alive with the laughter and warmth of friends and families gliding gracefully across the frozen sheet, their joy filling the frosty air. the atmosphere is an effortless blend of nostalgia and festive cheer, with colorful lights casting an echo on the rink’s frosty smooth, glistening surface.

you hesitate, your breath catching in the cool, crisp air. the crystal gleams before you, the facade stretching out in a perfect, inviting expanse, yet your feet feel rooted to the ground. a flicker of doubt crosses your mind as you shift your weight from one foot to the other, watching the skaters cruise fluently by. the thought of slipping, of losing your balance, twists your stomach into knots.

“yeah, i think we definitely need the skating penguin aid,” sunghoon teases, extending his hand with a grin, his eyes glinting with tomfoolery. he gestures toward the rink with mock grandeur. “unless you want me to wrap you in bubble wrap first.”

“shut up, i’m fine,” you murmur, though the panic is evident as you grab his hand like a lifeline. “i’m totally fine, i just... don’t want to die today.”

he laughs, the sound warm and reassuring. his gaze softens as he squeezes your hand, grounding you with his touch. “don’t worry,” he says with a playful smile. “you’re not going to die, i promise. i’ll protect you... unless i fall first, in which case, we’re both doomed.”

“you’re a pro. you won’t fall,” you mutter, throwing him a skeptical side-eye.

“exactly,” he replies nonchalantly. “now hold on tight. i’ll make you a skating pro in no time—or at least keep you from face-planting.” his grin widens as he pulls you close, his steady hands guiding you as he nuzzles in to plant a soft-spoken kiss to your forehead. the warmth of his embrace lingers, a gentle promise of both support and affection, keeping you centered as you take your first shaky steps onto the ice.

amidst the festive bustle of the holiday season—surrounded by laughter, christmas melodies, and the rhythmic sound of skates cutting through the ice—you share this moment together. it’s a sweet, tender embrace, where your hearts beat in perfect harmony, filled with love, coziness, and the magic of the season.

ㅤ──────────────────────────

— KIM SUNOO (김선우)

within the crisp winter air, you find yourself seated in a ferris wheel cabin, suspended high above a bustling winter wonderland. the gentle motion of the ride slows, as if time itself has paused to savor this fleeting moment. around you, the ferris wheel glows with festive decorations—twinkling fairy lights, ribbons, and garlands entwining a spell of seasonal enchantment.

below, the holiday fair stretches out like a canvas of shimmering christmas lights, their warm glow spilling over streets and rooftops. the distant hum of carols and laughter drifts upward, blending seamlessly with the stillness of the night. in this tranquil embrace, the world below blurs, leaving only the soft presence of sunoo beside you and the serene beauty of the season.

you gaze beneath, your voice barely a whisper. “this doesn't feel real. it’s like a snow globe.”

sunoo’s eyes remain on you, a small sneer playing at his lips. “it is.”

you turn to him, holding back a giggle as your eyes sparkle. “you’re not even looking at the fair.”

he shrugs, his voice laced with hazy charm. “why would i? i’ve already got the best view right here.”

“you’re so corny,” you tease, rolling your eyes as you nudge him playfully.

the ferris wheel creaks as it pauses at its peak, the view stretching endlessly around you. sunoo reaches for your gloved hand, his fingers interlocking with yours as he gazes into your eyes, his expression mellow.

“can i kiss you?” he asks, a slight hesitation in his voice.

you nod, your cheeks flushed from the cold—and maybe from something else. “you don’t need to ask.”

he inches closer, and your lips meet in a kiss that feels suspended in time. the world below fades into a blur of fluorescence, the cold long forgotten as you lose yourself in the moment. when you finally pull away, your cheeks are even redder, your breath coming in soft bursts as you let out a quiet laugh.

ㅤ──────────────────────────

— YANG JUNGWON (양정원)

the late winter breeze mingled with the deep midnight blues as you and jungwon stood side by side in the soft, falling snow in the park. hands wrapped in mittens and bundled up in scarves and coats, you rolled large snowballs together, giggling at the clumsy mishaps that unfolded with each playful turn. the cold air nipped at your faces, but the heat between you made the breeze feel almost comforting. you worked in harmony, shaping the snow into a snowman, your palms brushing against each other with every gentle adjustment, each stroke a silent exchange of affection in the quiet of the night.

when the snowman was finally complete, jungwon’s face lit up with a proud grin, his voice full of childlike excitement. “we’re finally done!” he exclaimed, as though you’d just achieved something monumental.

you beamed back at him, feeling the thrill of the instant. but before you could gather yourself, he pulled you close, spinning you in the soft, snowflakes cascading from above. you gasped in surprise, chuckles pouring out of your lips as you tumbled together, the snowman toppling over with a dramatic thud, burying itself in the white blanket below.

you both landed in the icy duvet, gasping with laughter. jungwon, eyes shining with impishness, smirked at the fallen frosty figure and then turned to you, his voice teasing. “guess it’s nap time!”

you shook your head in playful exasperation. “really? you had to do that?”

his cat-like eyes glinted with amusement as he shot you a wide, cheeky grin. “it wasn’t my fault! the snowman just wanted a nap.”

“a nap? it was standing perfectly!” you replied, letting out a dramatic sigh, your breath puffing in the crispy air.

“it had dreams, okay?” jungwon sniggered, his voice warm and teasing. then, with a sly gleam in his gaze, he leaned in. his lips brushed softly against yours, a delicate, lingering kiss that felt like the quiet flare of a secret shared between you. the blanket of stars above seemed to shimmer even brighter, as if the universe itself had held its breath, adding a touch of magic to the moment.

ㅤ──────────────────────────

— NISHIMURA RIKI (西村力)

you and riki are staying in a cozy, rustic cabin nestled deep in the woods, smothered by freshly fallen snow. the log exterior of the cabin is dusted with fragile snowflakes, while hazy, golden light spills from the windows, casting a warm, peaceful glow on the world outside. a wreath of pine branches adorned with bright red ribbons hangs cheerfully on the front door, adding a festive touch to the winter landscape.

inside, the neon lights of the christmas tree shimmer and sway, casting faint, colorful shadows on your faces while the comforting taste of hot chocolate lingers on your lips. the scent of pine and cinnamon hangs in the air, a perfect synchrony of winter fragrances that floods your senses. wrapped in the woolen blanket fort you built earlier, you huddle close by the stone fireplace, the only sounds being the hissing of the flames and the occasional bursts of laughter you share while watching your favorite holiday classics.

“this fort looks like it’s going to collapse any second,” you say, glancing up at the leaning blankets with a mischievous hint of worry.

riki’s laughter fills the space as the fort creaks ominously.

his eyes shine with playful schemes as he turns to you. “nah, this fort could rival the pyramids. a true wonder of the world.”

you snort, giving his arm a lighthearted shove. “if the pyramids were built with chairs and duct tape.”

he grins, feigning mock offense. “stop! this is engineering excellence at its finest.”

“as long as you’re happy,” you tease, your heartfelt smile full of compassion as your gaze meets his.

with a soft chuckle, riki delicately tugs you closer, gifting a tender kiss to your forehead. his fingers gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his touch prolonged as the moment feels timeless—mute, safe, and filled with true love.

ㅤ──────────────────────────

© enlysia ᐸ/3² ― 2024 — all rights reserved. do not copy, plagiarize, translate my work, or post it on other sites.

ccto for the cute dividers

[love-that-we-were-in]

betting on all three for us two

pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: you think you like being a little more friendly and a little less competition with luke castellan this year. a sequel to this fic word count: 3.1k warnings: none

author's note: frat luke my dearly beloved loser son who studies pre-med this is for you you know who you are i love you

1. 

The fall semester comes at you faster than you’d like, this rapid change from a golden summer to the crisp air of being back on campus. You’re rooming with someone from an old anthropology elective you took, Silena finally moving into her sorority house. It should feel weirder, how everything has changed since spring break. 

You take the opportunity to build new habits. Early runs, no caffeine after 2pm. Little things that make the day go a tiny bit faster, building blocks to fit around your class schedule. Silena schedules weekly lunches for the three of you and there’s this gravity to it all that you want to study. 

It had been nice to be home for a few months. Your mom had missed having you there, being able to show you the new flowers she planted, how the lemon tree in the yard is twisting weirdly. Board games and family dinners and friends who never left your town. Being back home was resetting. Being back on campus was restarting.

Lee catches you as you leave the gym, offering to walk you to class if you’re heading in that direction. You smile, telling him that you have a late start and pretend he doesn’t frown when your phone buzzes. He mentions that he’s thinking of starting a study group for one of your classes and you tell him you’ll think about joining. 

While he heads towards the main building, you make your way to the campus coffee shop - caught behind the early risers desperate for something to get them through their first lecture of the day. 

“Can I get a flat white and an iced americano with caramel to go please?” You smile at the girl working the counter, stepping aside to glance at your watch.

You run through your schedule for today, ignoring the text that comes through. You know exactly what it says, the same thing every morning, and you don’t even bother to roll your eyes at this point. 

“I can’t believe you ignored my text,” Luke says when you reach the courtyard between the library and the medical building. “Not even a flame emoji.”

You stop in front of him, drinking in the jeans and sweater combination he’s settled on today. It’s a really nice sweater, dark blue and a little baggy. You wonder how quickly he’d notice it going missing. Probably not as quickly as he’d notice the stupid hat he’s wearing go missing. His backpack leans against the bench, pristine.

“No one uses those except you,” you shake your head, handing him the iced drink. “What time does your lecture start?” 

Luke tells you as if he really needs to. It’s this thing you’ve started doing since the semester began, acting like you don’t know his schedule as well as your own. As if the both of you haven’t fallen into this routine in just a few weeks. Like it’s not a highlight of your day. 

Clarisse thinks it’s adorable. Chris thinks it’s hilarious. You think it’s nice to have someone to share your free time with, beyond whatever else you and Luke have. It had been a fear of yours, when Silena mentioned not sharing a dorm with you, that you would fall to the sidelines. That life would come with these new priorities for everyone and you would only be fourth or fifth on their lists, too cemented in the day-to-day that you’d be forgotten.

Morning coffee with Luke stops that fear. 

“Did Silena tell you about the party on Friday?” 

“I have a study group in the afternoon,” Luke says, swirling his plastic cup around so the ice clinks together. “If I do go, I’m showing up late.” 

“Maybe I’ll keep my eye out for you there, Castellan.” 

He laughs and it’s like summer again. There’s something insane about hearing Luke laugh like this, unbroken and loud, nothing like it had been over the phone while you were back home. 

“You’ve got dinner with Silena and Clarisse tonight, right?” He asks, swinging his bag over one shoulder. You throw your empty cup into the trash can as you both start walking. “Is there any point in asking if you want to come round after?”

You knock his arm with your shoulder, laughing, and, instead of feigning hurt like usual, Luke just takes your hand in his, the skin a little colder than you expect. Gazing down at your linked hands, you bite your lip before sighing. 

“If I’m home before eleven, I’ll consider it.” 

Last year, when you first met him, you thought Luke only got that determined glint in his eyes when he was competing. That it was a sign of an unanticipated thrill. Since then, you’ve learnt that it’s not that at all. It’s this thing that ignites within him, determined and passionate and a little boyish. 

You think it might be one of your favorite things about him.

“I will take that deal.”

2. 

You wish you could say you were a little drunk. At least that way you would have something to blame. As it stands, you’re stone cold sober, maybe a little tired from class but nothing that can really be blamed for the lack of weight your actions seem to have right now. 

The only thing you can blame, and you will, is the boy next to you, completely engrossed in the movie playing. They’d been watching it when you arrived, all settled on the couches and you assume this is something they do regularly, and at any other time you might’ve called it cute. 

Not tonight. Not when you walked in to the discovery that Luke wears glasses and you didn’t know about it. It was something you played off, making a joke and settling into the cushions beside him. In the time since, Chris has left for his date with Clarisse and Charlie has pulled out some work to go through in the corner of the room. 

“What’s up?” Luke asks when he realizes you’ve hardly moved in ten minutes, barely even breathing. And it’s the worst possible thing he could do, glance down through the frames with that small smile you’ve gotten used to and curls loose. 

“Nothing’s up,” you let your eyes trail back to the screen. “This is a very cute tradition you guys have going on.” 

Charlie lets out a little laugh from across the room. You feel the way Luke exhales against the side of your face. You think you’re able to go back to pretending everything is normal, make a joke and enjoy the rest of the movie. The second you feel Luke’s fingertips on the skin of your knee, gentle and warm, you know you can’t. 

“You’re swerving,” he whispers, throwing a quick glance at Charlie to see if he can hear but the other boy is engrossed in his work. “Talk to me.” 

“It’s nothing,” you bite the inside of your cheek when he nods encouragingly, incredibly aware of the patterns he’s tracing on your skin. “I just think it’s interesting that you’d choose to wear a hat all the time when the glasses are right there.” 

“What?”

His hand stills and you wait. You wait and you stare at the shape of his jaw and you chuckle when it finally clicks, his adam’s apple shifting as he swallows the conclusion down. “Are you saying you like my glasses?” 

You don’t like how uneven this all feels. Whenever you’ve been with Luke so far, there’s been this mutual balance that you’ve grown used to. Even before now, back when you were locked in silly competitions, you did it on even footing, the expectation that everything meant nothing and you wouldn’t be affected. 

This, the way Luke grins around the realization, hand moving to rest on your thigh, is different. It’s heavier. It’s a loss after a winning streak and you’re kind of obsessed with the way it could drag you down. 

“I just think that hat is stupid.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Luke nods and you know, even if he doesn’t do it outright, he’s laughing. He’s categorizing the information you’ve just given him, placing it where it belongs in his mind, and it’s going to bite you in the ass. “Tell me more.” 

“Luke,” you mutter, gritting your teeth. His fingertips brush against the hem of your shorts and, when you glare at him for it, he just shrugs. You throw a glance over in Charlie’s direction. Still nothing. “Are you insane?” 

He tilts his head like he’s considering the question carefully. If Charlie were to look over, you know he’d assume you were locked in a debate about something silly - a staple of you and Luke - and it wouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t know for a second that you were holding onto Luke’s wrist, his hand itching to move just a little to the left. 

You sigh and the boy beside you raises an eyebrow. You both know that you’ve lost this round. 

When you press your lips to his bicep as the film credits roll, warm even through the fabric of his shirt, you mumble, “I really like your glasses.” 

3.

You aren’t used to watching things from a crowd. You’re used to focusing on yourself, on your team - not watching from a distance, surrounded by people who are there purely for enjoyment. There’s no winning from the stands. 

Luke doesn’t know you’re here. You’d sent him a text that morning wishing him luck, arranging to meet him when his debate was over. You hadn’t bothered to message him when your afternoon class got canceled, choosing instead to race across campus and find a seat in the dim auditorium they’re using. 

There isn’t the crackle of energy you get from swimming, or from watching Luke during track sessions. It’s less intense, for sure, a balance between the fire you know exists within him when he’s competing and the confidence he has in his own intelligence. You’ve argued with Luke, stupid things that neither of you care to take too seriously, and this is just the next stage of that. 

He’s got his glasses on, you note, when the debate gets underway. He’s wearing his lucky green polo, even if he’d never personally call it that, and he’s switched his smartwatch out for an analogue one. The cheap biro you’re used to seeing him use has been replaced by a fancy silver pen that he still taps against his thigh while thinking. He’s sitting straighter than usual, shoulders back. 

It’s almost like meeting him for the first time, focused and confident and sharp at the edges. 

You’re kind of obsessed with it. 

An hour and a winning handshake later, you make your way through the small crowd leaving to find Luke in conversation with one of his teammates. She smiles as you wrap an arm around his waist from behind, the slight tension still lingering in his bones melting away when he realizes it’s you. 

“What are you doing here?” He says, turning enough that he’s actually facing you now. The girl waves you both goodbye. “I thought you had class.” 

“Professor Chase had to cancel. His daughter got sent home from school with a fever.” 

Luke nods, pressing his lips to the top of your head quickly. “You didn’t have to come to my debate.” 

In the few months you’ve known Luke, you’ve learnt more about him than you expected to. You know from summer that Connecticut means looking after his sick mother, that he’s hoping to introduce some new charity events to ksig, that he used to go to a summer camp growing up. You know that his dad never showed up for anything and that he sits in the stands of all of your swim meets regardless of whether it cuts into his study time or not.

More than all of that, you know that the way he’s gazing at you now, a cross between awe and something deeper, is going to drive you crazy one day. You hope he can read the same expression on your face. 

“Thank you for coming,” he says when everyone is finally dismissed, an arm thrown across your shoulders as you make your way out of the building. You loop a finger around one of his, just because you want to. “It means a lot.”

“I told you I would,” and you had, months ago, staring at Luke’s bedroom ceiling, back when you were still caught in the casualness of it all. When Luke was just someone you pretended you weren’t trying to bump into at parties. You’d told him that you would show up for him if you ever got the chance. He’d rolled his eyes, throwing a blanket over you both and told you to go to sleep. He’d drifted off with his nose pressed against your neck. “I keep my word, Castellan.” 

“I know.”

In the evening light of campus, you think it might mean something more. Buried under the timing and the bitter wind until it’s a promise only you and Luke could translate. Asking him about where he wants to go for dinner, you like that no one else could understand the depth of it. 

+1.

Silena catches your attention as you enter the kitchen, grinning wildly and explaining her concept for tonight. Drew gave her permission to throw this week’s party, something themed and fun and it’s something she’s so proud of that you can’t help but grin back at her energy. 

“Even Charlie came,” she tells you excitedly, handing you a drink. “I feel like tonight is going to be it.” 

In all the years you’ve known her, she’s been counting down to it. You don’t exactly understand the fundamentals of what it is, if it’s a real thing or something she can just sense intrinsically. There have been moments where she’s thought of it before, mentioned it offhandedly before shaking her head - as if knowing she was wrong. 

“What even is it?” You ask and, for the first time, she breathes deeply instead of shrugging it off. 

“The beginning of the end,” she says and that doesn’t exactly explain anything. “Everything is about to change.” 

You still don’t really get it, but she’s as confident in this as she is about her clothes, so you nod like you understand. She sends you away not long after that, turning her attention to the new group that’s just walked through the doorway, mentioning that you need to be in the basement in about an hour and you just accept your fate, moving into the next room and falling into conversation with Rachel. 

*

Luke slips into the basement just as Silena starts yelling for everyone to do so, catching your eye across the room and waving. When you’re all instructed to sit down in a circle, you wonder exactly what Silena has planned for tonight. When she places a near empty bottle down in the center of you all, you laugh. 

“Are we actually playing spin the bottle?” Chris asks, prompting a murmured chorus of agreement from everyone else in the room. Silena frowns at him. 

“Wanna bet he ends up getting the most into it?” Luke whispers in your ear and you raise an eyebrow at him. “Loser has to buy the coffee tomorrow morning.” 

“You’re on,” you bump your fist to his to seal the deal. “I think he’s gonna get bored by round 3.” 

“Only boring people get bored of this game. It’s about drive.” 

“It’s about power?” Luke lets out a laugh and Silena turns her glare to you. “Sorry.”

She starts to explain the rules of the game, as if you’re all twelve again, and you bite your lip harder with every comment Luke makes under his breath. It’s a little mean, a little stupid, and you wish you were fifteen again, playing a proper game of spin the bottle for the first time.

Nothing much happens for the first few rounds, Chris starting to grumble the longer the game goes on. Luke clicks his tongue when you point it out, cursing his best friend like this was the worst thing that could’ve happened to him. 

Lee spins and it’s like cosmic interference when the bottle stops between you and Luke, the two of you glancing at each other and then back towards Lee. 

“Should I spin it again?” Lee asks when no one says anything. Silena shakes her head and says, “You can choose or we can vote if that makes you more comfortable.” 

“Please let us vote,” Chris shouts, animated and you narrow your eyes at him, ignoring the smug smile Luke gives you. “I’ll never ask you for anything ever again.” 

Lee glances between you both again, at where your knee rests against Luke’s thigh and the beer you’ve been sharing for the past twenty minutes sits between you. “It might be better to vote.” 

“Sure,” Silena smiles before silencing you all. “Everyone that wants Lee to kiss Luke, raise your hands.” 

You raise your hand and Luke mumbles beside you, flicking your leg and you poke him in return. Anything to avoid kissing Lee Fletcher after two years of avoiding it. 

“That is an overwhelming majority,” Silena says and you know, just by the way her eyes slide over to you, that she didn’t even bother to actually count. “Lee, you may now kiss Luke.” 

There’s this moment where you think Lee is going to just leave but instead he stares at the boy next to you, the relaxed set to his jaw, the annoying baseball cap on his head, how he’s so unbothered by it all. You watch as something clicks in his mind, you really want to know what it is. 

Whatever it was, it makes him grab the bottle again, ignoring Silena’s protests. It lands on the girl from Luke’s debate team and she straightens her back ever so slightly. 

“Silena,” Lee says as he leans towards the girl. “I’m not going to kiss Luke or his girlfriend.”

“Damn straight,” Luke mumbles, grabbing your hand from your lap and holding it in his instead. It’s stupid and it really doesn’t matter to either of you, you know that, but there’s this way he says it - almost like it’s the worst thing he could’ve imagined - and it settles in your gut with the beer you’ve been drinking. “Me or my girlfriend.”

“I’d really like to meet her,” you say, laughing when he huffs and pulls his hat down on your head. When you push the visor up to see him properly, all rosy cheeks and compacted curls, you think you might have found it. Whatever it is.

Based on the way Luke’s nose scrunches and his eyes crinkle, you think he understands that too. 

[huellitaa]

pretty girl winter 🧁❄️🎀

ok so winter is my FAVOURITE season ever!! i am THE christmas girl of all time and i wna make this the most beautiful pink christmas ever! and i am so excited to spend it with my favourite people ever (my tumblr girls) ❄️🩷

🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ winter music ♡

sweet dreams, tomorrow x together

last christmas, ariana grande

sleigh ride, the ronettes

merry & happy, twice

beautiful christmas, red velvet / aespa

santa tell me, ariana grande

doughnut, twice

winter wonderland, beabadoobee

jingle bell rock, bobby helms / aespa

rocking around the christmas tree, brenda lee

let it snow! let it snow! let it snow!, dean martin

have yourself a merry little christmas, judy garland

christmas dreaming, laufey

one more sleep, leona lewis

cindy lou who, sabrina carpenter

(🎀🗒 note: i also have a playlist filled with lots of these songs and music here! ♡)

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ winter beauty ♡

moisturiser moisturiser moisturiser. hand cream is also a must so they dont get cracked and dry, especially in the winter! ❄️🫶🏻🩷

i dont take cold showers in the winter bcuz i get ill easily , so i always take warm showers w 30 seconds of cold at the end 💭🎀💗

vanilla, cinnamon, musk, chocolate, pomegranate, cherry, pudding and sweet, rich scents 💭🐧🫶🏻

makeup in pale pink, white, soft gold, silver, lots of sparkles, dewy and light

red lip gloss / stick is an essential! 💭🎀

🎄𓂃 ࣪˖ winter fashion ♡

fluffy coats!!!!! i personally love my massive black trenchcoat its v cute

scarves, hats, gloves, etc ♡ 🎀🧸

leggings, tights, long socks, leg warmers, etc. (i esp love sheer tights!)💭

anything faux-fur lined

pink, silver, gold, and white ♡

boots, uggs, doc martens, clunky shoes!

🎀💭❄️ simple formula to a cute winter fit:

skirt -> tights -> long sleeves -> coat -> shoes

(long sleeves can be anything from turtleneck to jumper, tights can be leggings / long socks or whatever you like, and the same goes for shoes! this is an easily versatile idea, not one size fits all 🫶🏻)

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ winter movies ♡

muppet christmas carol!!!!!♡ my fav ever

the nightmare before christmas

beauty and the beast: the enchanted christmas

the miracle on 34th street

the grinch (live and animated)

jingle all the way

the polar express

home alone

mean girls (not a christmas film, but the jingle bell rock scene is iconic)

(🎀🗒 note: one thing i like to do is compile a list of all ur favourite shows and their christmas / winter episodes and just binge watch all of them!! 🩷🫶🏻🎄🧸)

🌨𓂃 ࣪˖ winter activities ♡

i love journalling and scrapbooking at any time of year, but i feel like it's always extra cosy in winter! playing some christmas music, cuddling up in pink pyjamas and journalling 🫶🏻🎀🩷

anything to do with baking and hot food is so cosy; gingerbread houses and hot chocolate, christmas cupcakes !! 🎄🫶🏻

i dont really know what category this falls into, but around christmas time i always love to make things about my family and friends; painting, decorating photos and hanging them up, journalling about them, and so on ! 💭💝❄️

make a list of all the people you're getting christmas presents for this year and compile a little bundle of things for them! 💗💭

learn about old winter tales and folklore, fron your culture or from others 🌨🎀

take up sewing, knitting, crocheting, etc. even if you've never done it before 🩷🧸

christmas market hopping!!!!!! one of my favourite things to do in winter is go out with my friends, go shopping and just browse the stalls bcuz theyre always so cute and cosy 🧁🐧💗

writing & making christmas cards ❄️🎀

unnecessary acts of kindness! this should go without saying for majority of the time, but i always love to go the extra mile during christmas to keep with the spirit and everything 🫶🏻🧸🎄

ice skating. obviously. i wanna go w my friends this year !!! 🎀⛸️🧁☃️

all my love, and happy december! 🎄🎀🫶🏻💗