LMAOOOOO PLSSS
LMAOOOOO PLSSS
More Hamzah fics PLEASEEEE
the BLONDE
teenage dirtbag hamzah and reader
It was 2 a.m., and the whole world was quiet except for the hum of the bathroom light and the faint scratch of a record spinning in the next room. The tile was cold under her knees, and Hamzah sat on the closed toilet lid, knees spread, head bowed slightly as she ran gloved fingers through his hair. His roots had grown out, dark waves creeping past the bleach, and he had been dragging his feet about re-dyeing them. But tonight, somewhere between a lazy kiss and a cigarette on the fire escape, she had decided for him.
“You’re dramatic, you know that?” she murmured, combing through the strands, sectioning them with careful fingers.
Hamzah smirked, eyes half-lidded. “You love it.”
She did. She wouldn’t be here if she didn’t.
Outside, the city was restless, cars rolling slow down wet pavement, a couple arguing on the next block, a distant dog barking at nothing. But in here, it was just them. The sharp scent of bleach, the softness of his hair between her fingers, the quiet intimacy of the moment.
“You always do this for yourself?” she asked, dipping the brush into the mixture.
“Yeah.” He yawned, rubbing his eye with the back of his hand. “Tried to get Martin to help me once, but he almost burned my scalp off.”
She laughed softly. “Well, I won’t let you go bald. Again. Hold still.”
He closed his eyes as she worked, pressing her thumb to his forehead when he leaned too far forward. The silence between them was easy, comfortable, stretching out in the dim light. She could feel the warmth of his skin, the steady rise and fall of his breath.
“You ever think about just keeping it natural?” she asked after a while.
Hamzah cracked one eye open, smirking. “You don’t like the blonde?”
“I like you, dumbass.” She flicked his forehead lightly. “Just wondering.”
He hummed, tilting his head slightly. “I don’t know. It’s just… me, I guess. Feels like I should be like this.”
She understood that more than she could put into words.
She finished applying the dye and leaned back on her heels, peeling off the gloves. “Alright, we wait.”
Hamzah stretched, rolling his neck before grabbing her wrist and tugging her toward him. “C’mere.”
She let herself be pulled onto his lap, arms draped over his shoulders, fingers tangling loosely in the still-damp strands at the nape of his neck. He smelled like soap and bleach and cigarettes. Like him.
“You tired?” she murmured.
He hummed again, a little softer this time, forehead pressing to hers. “Not if you stay.”
She smiled, fingertips tracing lazy circles at the base of his skull. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And she meant it.
The bleach had been sitting long enough, and now it was time to rinse. She nudged Hamzah’s knee, motioning for him to stand. He groaned dramatically, stretching his arms before rolling his shoulders and stepping toward the sink.
“Alright, put your head down,” she instructed, turning on the faucet, testing the water with her fingers until it was just warm enough.
Hamzah bent over the sink, arms braced on either side. She ran her fingers through his hair as the water rushed over it, watching the bleach swirl away in pale, milky streaks. His dark roots were gone now, replaced with that familiar platinum blonde that somehow suited him so well.
“You okay?” she asked, kneading her fingertips against his scalp, gentle but firm.
Hamzah exhaled through his nose. “Feels nice,” he muttered, voice slightly muffled by the sink.
She smiled to herself, rinsing out the last bit of bleach, then reached for the towel. “Alright, you’re done.”
Hamzah lifted his head, shaking out his hair like a wet dog before she could wrap the towel around him properly. She swatted his shoulder. “You’re irritating.”
He grinned, wrapping the towel around his head like some dramatic movie star. “I’m beautiful.”
She rolled her eyes, dragging him over to sit on the edge of the tub. “Sit still, I need to dry it.”
Hamzah sat obediently, hands resting in his lap as she plugged in the blow dryer. It roared to life, sending warm air rushing through his damp hair. She combed through it with her fingers, tousling it slightly, watching as the color settled in fully under the heat.
His eyes fluttered shut again, that same relaxed expression he had when she was running her fingers through his hair earlier. It was rare, seeing him this still, this quiet in a way that wasn’t wrapped in nervous energy or some joke he was waiting to deliver.
“You’re like a cat,” she said over the hum of the dryer.
Hamzah cracked one eye open. “Yeah? That’s pretty weird I’m not a cat?”
She smirked, switching the dryer off. “Nah. Just saying you like being taken care of.”
His lips parted slightly, like he was going to argue, but then he just shrugged, smirking. “Maybe I just like when you do it.”
She flicked his forehead again. “Cheesy.”
“Maybe.” He leaned back against the wall, looking up at her, brown eyes still half-lidded, long lashes casting shadows against his cheekbones. “But you like it.”
She ran her fingers through his now-dry hair, feeling the soft texture of it under her touch. He was right. She did.
But then she tugged lightly at one of the uneven strands near the back of his neck. “You need a haircut.”
Hamzah groaned, slumping dramatically against the wall. “I just got my hair done, and now you wanna chop it off? You’re fucked up.”
She rolled her eyes. “You can stop by my dad’s shop. I’ll tell him to fix it up for you.”
Hamzah immediately sat up straighter, brows lifting in mild alarm. “Your dad?”
“Yeah,” she said, completely nonchalant. “What, you scared?”
Hamzah rubbed the back of his neck, looking away. “I dunno. I feel like he already thinks I’m weird.”
She raised an eyebrow, amused. “Why would he think that?”
He scoffed, throwing his hands up. “Because I am weird! And I always say the wrong thing! And I— I dunno, I feel like dads don’t usually like me.”
She laughed softly, leaning down a little. “Well, lucky for you, he doesn’t hate you. He actually thinks you’re funny.”
Hamzah blinked. “Wait, really?”
“Yeah,” she smirked. “But now that you’re all nervous about it, maybe I should warn him that you’re a weirdo before you show up.”
Hamzah groaned again, covering his face with his hands. “Forget the haircut. I’ll just grow it out, become a new person. Change my name. Start a new life.”
She tugged at his hair again. “Oh, shut up. You’re coming.”
Hamzah sighed heavily, letting his hands drop. He looked up at her again, still slightly wary. “…Fine. But if your dad actually does think I’m weird, I’m blaming you.”
She grinned. “Deal.”
I accidentally deleted something I’ve been working very hard on since last night and I’m so sick so this is very lazy but I’m so upset pls
@issysh3ll
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Using the excuse “it’s just a joke” to defend yall faves will never not be humiliating. Like get off your knees and have some shame. They don’t know you. Your life will go on without them. Stop being ride or dies for strangers. Weirdos.
GUYYSSS.. I need your help. I’m planning on making a 70s Matt post but I don’t know what he would be like as a 70s senior tbh😭 if you guys have an idea of how you want me to write him personality wise please recommend 🙏🏽 *mwah* love ya
I’m gonna say this here because I refuse to fight with Rebeca in a comment section but here are my thoughts. I think ppl are forgetting the target audience for these Disney movies. Whether kids want to see someone who looks like them on screen or introducing different cultures and people who don’t look like you at an early age. I don’t think you guys understand how sad it is when the only Disney princess that looks like you, the whole movie is about the struggle of a black women, when all these other Disney princesses get whimsical and quirky storylines and personalities, black girls get a movie with a hard truth within society at such a young age. That’s literally all they’ve got. And you guys think it’s so cute and funny to make hypotheticals of taking the one thing they have away with your Ariana grande casting. I get making new Disney movies but do yall know the things yall said about wish when it first came out. Yall are starting to forget how embarrassing it is for a grown person as yourself is critiquing children disney movies and your only reasoning being “the songs are bad and she’s cringey”. I promise if we all let the little kids watch wish without saying a word they would love it. She is literally a perfect example of you can’t win. Like we are moving backwards if representation is upsetting people. This is going to turn into the brown v board if we don’t stop this like seriously (if you don’t know what the brown v board experiment is, it’s basically a test that was run in the 1940s where they would get black kids and put two identical dolls in front of them, one with a white skin ton and one darker, the kids would then choose which doll was the ‘prettier’ doll and 67% preferred the white doll over the 33% who chose the black doll) you guys don’t understand representation means absolutely everything to a child more than you think. Especially in a world where a woman with a slightly darker complexion was being called snow brown. Calling her aggressive and rude and I can’t let you guys forget about the Romeo and Juliet situation where you guys bullied this girl OUT OF HER JOB. When a black woman appears slightly more masculine or without as much soft features you guys will call her Tyrone, a stud, a man. But let a masculine white girl come up on your screen you guys are calling her fine and ‘I wish my bf looked like you’ like you guys disgust me so bad. None of you had plans to watch the play, watch Snow White, or Ariel. You guys just want to be racist, plain and simple. Grow up and stop watching children’s movies at your grown age if you can’t handle diversity you fucking embarrassment. It’s not the 1930s
Can you make yet another AMAZING Lochlan x reader fic? Possibly one where she’s poc or lower class and they meet while at the full moon party?
And maybe they have a fun romance before the end of the vacation, obviously with his parents not knowing or approving, could it also be spicer if you’re comfortable with it? Thanks! Your work is SOOO GOOD!!!
FULL MOON
accidentally fell in love with this reader. You will see more of her and them
Lochlan didn’t mean to stare. Really, he didn’t.
But there was something about her. Maybe it was her hair, big, voluminous curls that bounced when she moved, catching the moonlight and flickering in and out of the neon haze of the Full Moon Party. Maybe it was her laugh, high pitched, almost like a squeal, pure joy wrapped in sound. Or maybe it was her smile, the way her slightly imperfect teeth made her seem all the more perfect.
His gaze lingered too long.
Saxon, standing beside him, caught on immediately. “No, dude,” he said, reaching out to turn Lochlan’s head the other way. “No. We’re not doing this.”
Lochlan barely heard him. The drugs in his system, still fresh, still making his skin tingle, his chest light, were building him a new confidence, one he wasn’t used to. He felt untouchable, like his usual nervousness had been stripped away by the pounding bass and flashing lights. He didn’t overthink it. Didn’t talk himself out of it.
He just walked over.
The closer he got, the more details stood out. The glow of her skin, the single dimple in her cheek when she turned to say something to her friend. It was unfair, the effect she had on him. Like she was something soft in a world that had always felt a little too sharp.
When she noticed him standing there, she tilted her head, smile still lingering. “Hey,” she said, voice soft but not shy.
“Hey,” he echoed, suddenly aware he hadn’t thought this far ahead.
She studied him, eyes flickering across his face before she grinned. “You lost or something?”
He shook his head. “No, I just—” He cut himself off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I saw you.”
She blinked, then let out a breathy laugh, that squeal of hers breaking through. “You saw me?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
Lochlan felt his mouth twitch into a lopsided grin. “And I wanted to come over.”
She gave him a long look, her dimple deepening as she took him in. Then, as if deciding something, she stepped closer. “Well,” she mused, reaching up without hesitation to straighten the collar to his shirt. “Now you’re here.”
He swallowed, his skin burning where her fingers brushed against him. She was touchy, comfortable in her own space and in his, like she belonged there. He wasn’t used to it, not in the way she did it. Not in the way it made him feel.
“Guess I am,” he murmured.
Her smile widened. “Guess you are.”
The party raged on around them, but Lochlan barely noticed. His world had narrowed down to the girl in front of him, her curls, her dimple, the way she made him feel like maybe, for once, he wasn’t just the younger Ratliff brother standing in Saxon’s shadow.
Maybe, to her, he was just Lochlan.
And maybe that was enough.
She didn’t step back. Didn’t give him space. Instead, she reached up again, fingertips grazing his jaw, trailing down his cheek like she was trying to memorize him.
Lochlan went still. He wasn’t used to this. Girls weren’t usually this… bold with him. Not like this. Not in a way that wasn’t forced or teasing. But she was different. She wasn’t playing a game, she just did things because she wanted to.
He swallowed hard, watching her eyes flicker between his, a quiet curiosity settling between them. “You don’t talk much, do you?” she teased.
Lochlan let out a breathy chuckle. “I do,” he said, “just not when I feel like an idiot.”
She grinned, her fingers slipping up to his temple, smoothing over his hair. “Why do you feel like an idiot?”
“Because I’m standing in front of you.”
Her laughter was immediate, bright and sweet and unrestrained. She shook her head, her curls brushing against his chest as she leaned in, resting her chin on his shoulder for a second before pulling back just enough to look at him again.
“You’re funny,” she said, eyes sparkling.
Lochlan shrugged. “Not really.”
She hummed, tilting her head. “No, I think you are. You just don’t know it.”
His lips parted, but before he could say anything, she leaned up—pressing a quick, barely-there kiss to his cheek.
Lochlan blinked.
She did it again. And again.
Soft, fleeting kisses along his jaw, his cheekbone, the corner of his lips. Not lingering, just there and gone, like she was testing something.
Lochlan’s breath hitched.
His hands twitched at his sides, wanting to do something, touch her waist, thread his fingers through her hair, pull her closer, but he was frozen, stuck between disbelief and pure, dizzying want.
Then, finally, she pressed her lips to his.
It wasn’t deep. It wasn’t rushed. It was warm and sweet and slow, like she had all the time in the world, like she wanted to savor it.
Lochlan felt lightheaded.
When she pulled away, her smile was soft, almost shy despite how openly affectionate she was. “Still feel like an idiot?”
He exhaled, shaking his head. “No,” he admitted. “Just feel lucky.”
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Does anyone wanna follow eachother on Pinterest and share cute boards and stuff my pins are so bland🙁
No cause this is why I hate old balding bitches they got the most problems other than hair growth oil
I told one of my teachers I wanted to work at a country club and he looked at me with pure terror. The things he told me GIRLS DONT DO IT. THE BAG ISNT WORTH IT.
One more thought before I go to bed.. why is saxons hair all ruffled up. Like we saw when he was getting yanked by Lochlan that his hair was pretty tidy and he didn’t really do that much moving. Maybe he was rolling around in his sleep but uhh. I don’t know. This doesn’t seem too far fetched tbh
How they would dress in THE 70s
Slushy Noobz
hamzah..
jeans, bell bottoms, graphic tee, chunky belts, leather jacket, adidas, no color coordination, less effort, tucked shirts, plain
martin..
just nerdy, plaid, button ups, vests, stripes, belts, tucked shirts, skinnier bell bottoms, used to get dress by his mom majority of his childhood, white converse
mandy..
light colors, plaid, skirts skirts skirts, blue, yellows, pinks, browns, chunky shoes, headbands, floral print, girly girl, charm bracelets, cutesy
Sturniolos
chris..
tanks, big tees, bell bottoms, flares, baggy jeans, big belts, plain colors, rings, thrift, same pair of converse, open chest
matt..
basically chris just with more effort, flares, bell bottoms, stripes, plaid, scrunched up sleeves, jackets, wrist accessories, graphic tees, versatile, chunky belts
nick..
fashion icon, diva, necklaces, sweaters, layered collars, cleaner, more effort, doc martins, converse, jackets, v necks
taglist.. @italiansunsetss @b1gba11s @sylvanianngirl @st7rnioioss-alt @sincerelykelsss @throatgoat4u @wiseladypoetry @gracieabrmslvr @sweetangelgirl7 @pearlzier @1-hypegvrl @piperrrr-16 @mackyyyk @luna443 @flowerxbunnie @cwemetrys @calliepie @cupidsword @notaboutlovebyfiona @recklesssturniolo @littlebookworm803 @blissfulxsins @camsturnz @st7rnioioss @rempessturniolo @yearlyism
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