ti$a snapbacks

•Girls in dress shirts
•Girls in bow ties
•Girls in boxers
•Girls in suspenders
•Girls in snapbacks
•Girls in cargo shorts
•Girls in dresses
•Girls in sweatpants
•Girls with tattoos
•Girls with piercings
•Girls with colored hair
•Girls with short hair
•Girls with long hair
•Girls with glasses
•Girls in general
•Girls

~To gay to function~

anonymous asked:

How do you think even will ask isak to marry him?

Hi friend, 

omg…. Listen I think about this a lot. Like way to much tbh. hahaha I alternate between Even asking and Isak asking often because I can just see them both going for it. 

For Even though, I always see him asking in a more quite way? I know he’s big on romantic gestures but for some reason I feel like him proposing would feel so private? Like asking someone if they want to be with you forever, is such a large concept in itself, let alone for Even who struggled with the idea that he could be with the person he wanted, who also wanted him back. 

So I guess I see it like this:

Isak comes home one night after his internship at the university lab to find a piece of paper taped to the front door. His curious frown turns into a smile when he realizes it’s one of Even’s sketches. It’s of the two of them, sitting on their bench outside of Nissen. The figures appear to be smoking and Isak laughs softly at the memory of when they first met. At the top of the sketch it reads “This Universe”. Isak stares at drawing for another minute filling his head with fond memories. He opens the door intent on asking Even why he felt nostalgic, only to find he’s no where in sight. 

“Even?” Isak calls out questioningly. There’s no response but he’s sure Even is home. 

It’s with the intent on checking if he’s in the kitchen that Isak notices the room. Spread all over their living room are pieces of paper taped to whatever surface was visible. He grabs the one nearest to him, taped to a hook on the jacket rack by the door. A surprised laugh comes out of him as he sees whats drawn on the sheet. It was Isak and Even again, only this time Isak seemed to be on a balcony with Even staring up at him. There was a bubble next to the Even figure and inside was a simple heart. At the top, the caption read “Romeo and Juliet Universe.” Isak glanced up, scanning the area around him. With an excitement he didn’t quite understand having, he walked around the room grabbing the sketches. There was one on each lamp, and on the tv and coffee table. Some on the walls and others along their movie library. On the couch and on the throw pillows and even two on the rug. Isak noticed one taped to the side of the entryway for the kitchen and wandered in. Sure enough papers littered this room too. A few on the fridge and on the faucet and the bowl of fruit. One was even on the side of recently finished cup of tea. They all showed an Isak and Even meeting for the first time in different universes. 

Some were only slight variations on how they really met. Like the “Bakka Universe” where it looked like Isak was the one to transfer schools not Even. And them meeting at different times in their real timeline. (instead of meeting at the Kosegruppa meeting they met instead in the cafeteria or on the first day of school) Others were completely out there, like the “Rockstar Universe” where it looks like their famous musicians. On and on they went: “University Universe” where they meet as roommates at UiO, “KB Universe” where they meet at the coffee shop, “Soulmates Universe” where they were always destined to meet through some kind of connection etched on their body, “Office Universe” where they meet in an elevator presumably to go to work as the little versions of them are wearing ties (Isak still has his snapback tho), “Royalty Universe” where they are princes’, “Backpacking Universe” where they meet traveling, “Childhood Friends Universe” where they met as children, “Life Saver Universe” where they meet by saving the other from an accident and so on. 

Isak finally gets to the bedroom where there is one last sketch taped to the closed door. His breathing hitches as he slowly reaches for it. On it was Isak and Even sitting crossed legged and facing each other on the floor of their bedroom. The Even figure had his palm out, small open box sitting on top of it. The bubble next to him was just a question mark. The bubble next to the Isak figure was empty. At the top of the drawing all it said was “Now”. Isak raced back into the living room, upturning his backpack on the couch. Once he found what he was looking for, he ran back to the bedroom door,  and slowly opened it. 

The room was softly lit by the fairy lights twinkling all around them. Even sat on the bedroom floor exactly like in the sketch with his palm out and the tiny velvet box resting there. He wasn’t looking up though so Isak slowly walked towards him and sat down. He waited and then after taking a deep breath Even finally looked up.

“In every universe, we find each other. And in every universe we fall in love. And in every universe…. I can’t believe how lucky I am that you picked me. In some universes, things are easier and in others harder but we always make it through, together. So, Isak Valtersen, will you marry me and become the man of my life officially?”

Isak looks down at the silver ring sitting patiently inside the box. He can’t speak, too overwhelmed with emotion. So he reaches inside his pocket and hands Even a small piece of paper. Confused, Even lowers the palm holding the ring and reaches out for it. He sets the ring aside and unfolds it. Isak watches as a smile, a glowing happy force like the sun rising, appears on Even’s face. Before he has a chance to say anything, Even lunges towards him, knocking him back on the floor and kissing him passionately. As they break apart, Even scrambles around the floor for the box and pulls out the ring. He slides the ring onto Isak’s finger and presses their foreheads together. 

“I love you. In every damn universe.” Isak whispers. 

They kiss and kiss and kiss and the sketch lays open on the floor, showing Isak and Even sitting just as they were previously. The bubble next to Even’s head holding only a question mark while the the one next to Isak’s head holds a simple response: “Yes.” 

Ma tu lo sapevi che è da quasi quattro mesi che ho salvata sul desktop la foto di te con dietro la metropolitana che viaggia velocissimamente e che m'immagino tutti i giorni un inizio nuovo e folgorante per la nostra son più che sicuro prima o poi senza dubbio intensa relazione? E lo sapevi che ottanta e settantasette sono i due numeri per i quali ormai provo un amore a dir poco ossessivo e che quando mi chiedono di sparare un numero a caso dico prima ottanta e poi settantasette e che giustifico questi due numeri sostenendo che il primo era il numero stampato sulla maglia milanista di Ronaldinho e che il secondo è stato invece il numero stampato sulla maglia interista indossata da Quaresma al suo approdo in Serie A? E lo sapevi che non sono né milanista e né interista? E lo sapevi che ottanta e settantasette sono i due numeri che identificano il vagone della metro che sta alle tue spalle in quella foto che da quasi quattro mesi ho salvata sul desktop? Vagone dal quale ahimè non scenderò mai, peraltro, ma cazzo se non mi fa stare bene immaginarmi che scendo, seguimi, che scendo proprio a quella fermata che non so minimamente dove stracazzo eri ma che t'assicuro sarei di certo sceso lì come nei film diabetici che da adolescente amavo un sacco. E allora sarei sceso, immagina, sarei sceso e mentre tu te ne stavi in posa a farti fotografare in mezzo al vento caldo presumibilmente cancerogeno che odora di plastica bruciata tipico delle metropolitane e che ti spostava i capelli come nelle migliori pubblicità dei profumi dove c'è sempre un'infinità di vento e non capisco mai perché, io sarei sceso dalla metro fiero e inconsapevole del mio essere per te nessun cazzo di nessuno oltrepassando al contrario la linea gialla dalla quale bisogna sempre tenersi alla larga per non finire sotto le rotaie investiti e schiacciati e via dicendo, e ti avrei presa per mano e ti avrei detto Ehi Camihawke senti un po’ qui ma lo sai che penso di essermi distrattamente innamorato di come parli e delle minchiate che scrivi e delle lentiggini e del fatto che capita che ti metti lo snapback al contrario come il giovane Holden Cauldfield? E tu mi avresti detto Ehi tu ma chi stracazzo sei che vieni qui a rompere i coglioni mentre mi stanno fotografando? Un testimone di Geova? E io t'avrei risposto balbettando qualcosa di poco intelligente perché cristoilsignore non sono e ci mancherebbe altro un testimone di Geova, ma rimango pur sempre un ragazzo distrattamente innamorato che ti segue sui social tutti i giorni pur non schiacciando su Segui per paura di rendersi molto più sfigato di quanto già non si senta. E lo sai che ho scritto un sacco di volte l'incipit di un libro nel quale io e te siamo sposati e per la tua paura di soffrire di dolori preparto sovrumani io mi sacrifico e trovo chissà come il modo di partorire io il figlio che secondo natura dovresti partorire tu poiché donna? E lo diresti mai che l'incipit che più di tutti funziona è quello in cui partorisco col cesareo mentre tu mi tieni la mano come farebbe un vero uomo dicendomi Andrà tutto bene tesoro stai tranquillo e mentre io ti rispondo Cazzo ho fatto a dirti che avrei partorito io porca madonna fa un male cane ributtatelo dentro? E lo sapevi che per te farei davvero questo sacrificio e non per finta? E tornando al discorso del matrimonio lo sapevi che ho pensato a una cosa megagalattica del tipo che ci si potrebbe sposare di notte in un posto di mare completamente al buio e altrettanto completamente isolato e che si potrebbe munire tutti e nessuno escluso gli invitati con degli starlight(s) colorati da indossare ai polsi o alle gambe o dove diavolo gli pare in modo tale da rendere tutto come se succedesse su un altro pianeta? E sapevi che ho pensato talmente a tutto che ho persino ragionato sul fatto che al prete, che non dovrà e qui son categorico essere né credente e né pedofilo, potremmo fornire il doppio degli starlight(s) e che potremmo imparare all'incirca un mese prima il linguaggio dei segni in modo tale che nessuno ma proprio nessuno compreso il prete incappi nel rischio di rovinare il silenzio di quella notte con le parole? Non pensi sarebbe stupendo? Del tipo che ci basterebbe fare su e giù con la testa per dire sì a quella roba della salute e della malattia finché morte non ci separi, mi spiego? E per valorizzare le tue lentiggini potrei pagare due bambini da piazzare uno alla tua destra e uno alla tua sinistra perché tengano in mano uno starlight un po’ più grande ciascuno in modo tale da illuminarle tutte, le lentiggini dico, una per una, sicché possa godermele tutte mentre mi fai sì sorridendo. Te l'immagini? Che poi non so mica se avrei il coraggio di dirti Sposami, diciamocelo, ma guarda, sono più che sicuro e ci tengo a promettermelo adesso che arriverà prima o poi il giorno in cui avrò sissignore il coraggio di dirti in mezzo ad altre stronzate come queste almeno il mio nome. Ciao Camihawke, buona giornata.

Not Today Part Two

Pairing: Michael/Reader

Rating: So mature jfc

Requested: Hells yeah lmao

Warnings: Sexual content out the hizouse, language, violence, etc.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay,” Michael begins, “Tell me exactly what he said, word-for-word.”

“You bitches better tell that fuckin Clifford bloke that if he gets in the way of my business again, I’ll get my boys and he won’t be so lucky next time, yeah?”

You look down. They were going to ask. You felt it. When you look up, they’re all staring at you. “Y/N, what business?” Ashton asks. The boys look pretty confused. “Uh, well, you see, Arik’s been bullying me for years, right? And um, he eventually started using my fear against me. He had me selling- I mean, he, like, threatened me and said that if I don’t get him the money, he’ll hurt me.”

They all stare at you. “Y/N,” Calum starts to say, “We’re setting ground rules.”

“Huh?”

“We’re protecting you from now on. Think of it like we’re your guards now. You have at least one class with each of us. Stay near us. Sit with us at lunch. Be in the line of sight of at least one of us at all times. You’re no longer going to live in fear. You’re with us now.”

You feel your heart swell in your chest. “Why are you guys doing this for me? This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

“Mikey here,” Luke begins, swinging an arm over Michael’s shoulder, “Has the most mushy crush on you, and I do believe it’s our duty to protect the girl of our mate’s dreams. Oh, did you know that? Sorry if you didn’t. Quite a bombshell.”

“Oh, believe me, I knew.”

Michael chuckled. “So, Y/N, do you plan on staying here or going home?”

“I’ll go home if you want…”

“No, stay!”

“Yeah, please, Y/N!”

“Come on!”

“I’ll cuddle you lots!” You hear the boys whine at you. (Nevaeh: guess who the last one was lmao)

“Fine,” you sighed, “I’ll stay.”

You received a chorus of ‘Yay’ and ‘Yes!’ in reply.

 ~~~~~Later that night~~~~~ 

 It’s two in the morning, and you and Michael are still awake. 

 “Mm, Y/N?” He groans sleepily. 

 “Yes, Michael?” 

 “What’re ya gonna wear to school tomorrow?” 

“What I wore today, why?” 

 “You need something else… an accessory or something.” 

 “Why?” 

 “So it doesn’t look like you wore the same outfit two days in a row. Tell you what, you can wear one of my flannels and a snapback.” 

 “Why does it matter if I wear the same outfit two days in a row?” You ask, facing him. You two were lying in his bed, and your back had been facing him until then. He blushes. 

“Well, it shows that… you’re mine. So they don’t bother you.”

You smirk. “Ya know, there’s another way to show that I’m yours.” It’s like he can see the gears grinding in your mind. 

He bites his lip. “And what would that be, Miss Y/L/N?” 

 You scoot closer to him, kissing from his neck, up to his jaw, stopping just below his ear. “Make your mark, Mikey.” 

He flips you over so you’re under him, and he’s hovering just above you. He harshly sucks on the soft skin of your collarbone. He lifts his head, looking you dead in the eyes. “Like that, princess? What else do you want me to do, huh? You wanna be my little slut? You want me to taste your sweet pussy? Hmm?” He’s grinding into you, eliciting harsh moans from you. “You have to answer me, baby, or I won’t know what to do. What do you want, sweetheart?” 

 “Ugh, your fingers, your mouth, anything, please!” 

He flashes a devious grin. “Only because you asked so nicely…” 

He shimmies his pair of boxers that you were wearing off, throwing them on the floor. 

“Come down to the edge of the bed, princess.” You do as he says, watching as he kneels on the floor at the end of the bed. 

“Oh, baby, your pussy is so pretty.” You gulp. He’s level with your throbbing heat now. He leans forward, giving it a harsh lick straight up your slit. “Mikey, more, please!” 

He pulls away before inserting two fingers, pumping at a slow pace. He watches as your expression contorts into one of pure pleasure. “Aah, faster, please, Michael!”

He abides, the cocky smirk on his face never leaving, but growing. He continues to finger fuck you, attaching his lips to your clit. You moan and grip his hair. His other hand flies to your mouth and he lets go of your clit with a pop. “Baby, you need to be quiet if you ever want to finish.” You nod.

He never stopped with his fingers, making you feel as though you’re ready to burst. He reattaches his mouth, clamping his hand tight on your mouth as you release all over his face.

You fall back onto the bed, ready to pass out.

Michael cleans his face off with a hand towel that he kept in his room just in case he spilled something (Which, in this case, you spilled something).

 He flops onto the bed with you, pulling you back up so your head lies on the pillows. “That was so hot.” You laughed at his remark. 

“God, you’re perfect. Your moans are so sexy. Jesus Christ, you’ve fucked me up.” 

“I need to do something for you.”

“No, baby, it’s okay. Go to sleep. It’s almost three anyway.” 

 You fall asleep that night with Michael’s arms around you and his dick poking into your thigh.

 ~~~~~~~~~~ 

 The walk to the boys’ bus stop is the best thing you’ve experienced in a while. Their banter and energy is so soothing. 

You did as Michael said the night before, you were wearing your own Nirvana shirt with his red flannel tied around your waist. His snapback was backwards on your head, revealing your face completely. You get to the bus stop and lean your body into Michael’s. 

“Why are you so quiet, Y/N?” You hear Ashton ask. Luke giggles. “She’s probably tired.” Calum joins in. “Hmm, I wonder why?” Ashton laughs, “Not possibly because she was kept up all night by Michael.” “Oh, don’t act like she isn’t guilty too,” Calum says, “I can still hear them talking endlessly, and then a bunch of fumbling, and then, the next thing I know, she’s screaming.” 

 You gasp and hide your face in Michael’s chest. 

Luke chuckles, “Alright, we had our fun. Stop embarrassing the poor girl.”

You silently keep your face pushed up against Michael’s shirt until the bus arrives.

 Today, when you walk on the bus, you feel more confident. Nobody dares look at you the same way they did before. These boys, Calum, Ashton, Luke, and Michael, they were YOUR boys now. They protected you now. 

It was all okay now. 

 Or, so you thought. 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

Haha I’m an evil author, leaving you with yet another cliffhanger. Feedback is appreciated! If you’d like another part, feel free to ask for one. My requests are open, ask for anything you’d like to see on this blog :-)