Their Random Pair Group Science Project In THE 70s

FROSTED FLAKES pt.1

In the summer of ‘76,, Matt meets a walking social disaster. In simpler terms.. a girl. I know. Matt Sturniolo and girls aren’t exactly a match made in heaven. But maybe this one is an exception?

September 14, 1976 – A Warm, Late-Summer Evening

The air smelled like gasoline and fading sunlight, warm in that way September gets when summer refuses to let go. The pavement still held onto the heat of the afternoon, radiating up through the soles of Matt Sturniolo’s sneakers as he walked home from McCleary’s Market with a bag of records under his arm. The sky had that golden, hazy look, half dusk, half dream, where everything feels a little too quiet, like the world is holding its breath before night fully settles in.

Matt liked moments like this. When the streets were mostly empty, the radio static in his head quieted, and the only sound was the scuff of his sneakers against the sidewalk.

Then, out of nowhere—

BAM.

A blur of curls. A crash. The sharp edge of a shopping cart jamming into his hip.

Matt stumbled back, nearly dropping his records, as someone practically barreled into him outside the market. A girl.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, immediately grabbing his arms like she could keep him upright through sheer force of will. “Are you okay? Jesus, I wasn’t looking—well, obviously I wasn’t looking, because if I was looking, you wouldn’t be half-dead on the sidewalk right now, but—oh no, did I break something? Are you gonna sue me? Wait, do people actually do that? I mean, I wouldn’t sue if I got hit with a shopping cart, but—”

Matt just blinked at her, trying to process what the hell just happened.

The girl, who had massive brown eyes and a mess of dark curls that looked like they had a mind of their own, stared back at him expectantly, waiting for a response.

“…You talk a lot,” he muttered.

She grinned. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

And then, before he could say anything else, she reached into his grocery bag, dropped a box of Frosted Flakes inside, and walked off like nothing happened.

Matt stood there for a long moment, watching her bounce away down the sidewalk, talking to an old lady who looked very confused but not entirely displeased by her presence.

What the hell just happened?

And, more importantly…

Who was she?

@issysh3ll

Authors note.. (Okay a few things this is my first series that I wanted to start and I have a few questions. Do you guys want her to have a name and be her own character or do you want it to be a reader type thing. And also I tried to write this in a rom com type style so if you don’t like it pls lmk. Tell me anything you don’t like. And lastly do you guys want smut in this later on? Because that’s definitely possible)

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I absolutely adore your fics and am forever grateful that you’re writing for Lochlan.

I'd thought about this idea for quite some time before finding someone who could write it and I'm so glad I found you.

Anyway, what about lochlan x reader and them meeting at the pool in the hotel, maybe saxon flirting with her first but she is fully focused on lochlan and how shy he is and them later sneeking around the hotel because his parents would despise her but he's head iver heels. Maybe meeting at the pool in the middle of the night and sneaking into her room (maybe smut...)

(You are the sweetest in the world I love you I tried my best just for you. I saw this request and started on it immediately)

Lochlan and 𝒜ngel reader

The first time he notices her, she’s tucked into a corner of the hotel lobby, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress, eyes cast downward as if she’s afraid of meeting anyone’s gaze. She’s soft, soft in the way she moves, in the way she glances up through her lashes, in the way she lets her hair fall over one side of her face like a shield.

Saxon notices her first.

Lochlan’s older brother is lounging in one of the lobby chairs, long legs stretched out, sunglasses still on despite the dim lighting. His shirt is unbuttoned halfway, and he looks like he belongs here, like this luxury resort was built specifically for him. He watches as she hesitates at the reception desk, her soft voice barely carrying over the hum of conversation.

“She’s cute,” Saxon says, lifting his sunglasses to get a better look. He nudges Lochlan’s arm. “You think she’s into older guys?”

Lochlan stiffens. He’s been half-listening to whatever Saxon was saying, but now his gaze follows his brother’s, landing on her.

Something stirs in his chest.

She’s alone. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, as if unsure where to go next. He recognizes that kind of hesitation.

“Maybe she’s waiting for someone,” Lochlan says, trying to sound indifferent, but his voice comes out too soft, too interested.

Saxon smirks. “Maybe. Or maybe she’s just shy.”

Lochlan swallows.

Before he can think, Saxon is already standing, making his way toward her with that easy, confident stride. Lochlan hesitates for a second before trailing behind, not entirely sure why.

She looks up when Saxon stops in front of her.

“Lost, sweetheart?” Saxon’s voice is smooth, teasing.

Her fingers tighten around the hem of her dress, but she shakes her head. “No. I just—” She hesitates. “I’m fine.”

Lochlan sees the way her shoulders stiffen slightly, like she’s unsure of what to do with the attention.

Saxon grins. “You sure? ‘Cause you kinda look like a lost little lamb.”

Her lips press together, and Lochlan catches the way her gaze flickers, just for a second, toward him. It’s brief, almost hesitant, but it makes his stomach flip.

She’s not paying attention to Saxon.

She’s looking at him.

Lochlan swears his heart skips.

She looks away just as quickly, shaking her head again. “I—I’m just waiting.”

“For who?” Saxon asks.

Before she can answer, Lochlan finally finds his voice, though it comes out more nervous than he wants it to. “Saxon, leave her alone.”

Saxon raises an eyebrow but steps back, hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Just being friendly.”

He turns to leave, but before Lochlan follows, she glances at him again.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, so soft he almost doesn’t hear it.

Lochlan doesn’t know what to do with himself. He nods stiffly, then quickly walks away before he can make a fool of himself.

But his heart is still racing.

The next time they cross paths, it’s at the pool.

It’s late, too late for anyone else to be out. Lochlan hadn’t been able to sleep, and something about the stillness of the resort at night had drawn him out of his room.

And now she’s here.

She’s sitting at the edge of the pool, feet dipped in the water, her dress gathered around her knees. The glow from the underwater lights casts a soft shimmer across her skin.

She startles when she hears him, eyes going wide before she realizes who it is.

“Oh,” she breathes.

Lochlan shifts awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh—sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” she says quickly, her voice as soft as the ripples in the water. “I—I don’t mind.”

Lochlan hesitates, then sits down a few feet away, dipping his feet in as well. He feels stupid. He should say something, but his mind is blank.

She glances at him, then looks away just as fast. “Couldn’t sleep?”

He shakes his head. “Yeah. You?”

She nods, gaze fixed on the water. For a moment, neither of them say anything.

Then, hesitantly, she speaks again. “You’re Saxon’s brother.”

It’s not a question, but he nods anyway. “Yeah.”

She frowns slightly, like she’s trying to piece something together. “You’re not like him.”

Lochlan lets out a breath of a laugh. “No. I’m not.”

Her lips twitch, almost like she wants to smile but isn’t sure if she should.

Lochlan watches her, the way her fingers skim the surface of the water, the way her hair falls over one shoulder. His chest feels tight.

He should leave.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he says, “I—uh—I could—” He stops, grimacing at how awkward he sounds. “If you ever want someone to, um. Walk around with. I mean—not that you need someone. But—”

She looks at him then.

Really looks at him.

And for the first time, she smiles.

“Okay.”

Lochlan feels like his heart is about to combust.

From that night on, they start finding each other more often.

They never plan it, but somehow, they always end up in the same places at the same time. A quiet hallway. A secluded part of the beach. The rooftop terrace, where they sit close but not touching, their conversations filled with hesitant words and stolen glances.

Lochlan doesn’t know how to act around her. She makes him nervous in a way no one else does.

And yet, he can’t stay away.

Neither can she.

It’s dangerous, his parents wouldn’t approve. He knows it.

But when she grabs his wrist one night, pulling him down a hallway, whispering, Come on, as they sneak toward her room, Lochlan doesn’t care.

Because when she closes the door behind them, standing close enough that he can hear her breath hitch, all he can think about is how badly he wants to be near her.

Lochlan leans against the wall, heart hammering against his ribs, hands stuffed into his pockets to keep from fidgeting. She stands just a few steps away, watching him with that soft, uncertain gaze.

Neither of them say anything at first. The air feels thick, charged with something he doesn’t know how to name.

She looks down, shifting her weight. “Do your parents know you’re out this late?”

Lochlan lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “They’d kill me if they did.”

She hesitates, her fingers toying with the hem of her dress again. “Mine too.”

Lochlan glances at her. “They strict?”

She shrugs. “Not really. They just—” She pauses, choosing her words carefully. “They have expectations.”

Lochlan exhales sharply. “Yeah. I get that.”

She lifts her head slightly. “Your parents too?”

He huffs a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. “More than you know.”

She steps closer, just slightly, like she’s drawn in by the weight in his voice. “What do they expect from you?”

Lochlan hesitates. He never talks about this, not really. But something about her makes it feel easy, like she won’t judge him for it.

He swallows. “To be like my dad. Or like Saxon. Confident. Charismatic. The kind of guy who takes what he wants without hesitating.” He shakes his head, jaw tightening. “But I’m not like that.”

She watches him, her expression unreadable. Then, softly, she says, “I like that you’re not like that.”

Lochlan stills.

His throat goes dry.

She looks away quickly, like she hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but it’s already hanging between them, thick and heavy and impossible to ignore.

Lochlan swears his heart stops.

He doesn’t know what possesses him, but he steps closer, close enough that he can see the way her breath catches, the way her lips part slightly.

“What about you?” he asks, his voice lower now. “What do your parents expect?”

She hesitates. “To be… proper. To be the kind of girl they can be proud of. Quiet. Polite. Someone who won’t embarrass them.”

Lochlan frowns. “You’re already all of that.”

Her lips twitch, but there’s a sadness in her eyes. “Not enough.”

Lochlan clenches his fists. He hates that she feels that way. Hates that she thinks she isn’t enough.

She looks at him then, really looks at him, and something shifts in the air.

It’s terrifying, how easy it would be to close the distance between them.

And then she does.

Just slightly, but enough.

Lochlan doesn’t think.

He just moves.

Their lips meet hesitantly, soft and uncertain, like neither of them are sure they’re allowed to do this. Lochlan can feel her breath, shaky and warm against his skin. His hands hover at her waist, unsure if he should touch her, if he’s allowed to.

Then she makes a quiet sound, something between a sigh and a whimper, and Lochlan is gone.

He grips her waist, pulling her closer, feeling the way she melts into him. Her hands reach up, hesitantly brushing against his jaw before settling there, her thumbs grazing his skin.

It’s slow, nervous, desperate in a way neither of them fully understand.

Lochlan has never kissed anyone like this before.

He doesn’t think he ever will again.

When they finally break apart, their breaths are uneven, their foreheads nearly touching.

She exhales softly, a dazed little smile tugging at her lips.

Lochlan swallows, his thumb brushing against the fabric of her dress.

“I think,” he whispers, voice hoarse, “I might be obsessed with you.”

She lets out a shaky breath.

“Me too.”

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You can’t convince me that Saxon doesn’t have a thing for cute toes.. he’s a whore for white and pink just trust me🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

💬 Just a Small Update, and a Big Thank You

Dear friends, kind hearts, and everyone who has stood with us,

When I first opened my heart to the world and shared our story, I never imagined the amount of love and solidarity we would receive. Thanks to your incredible support, we’ve now reached $12,837—a milestone that brings real light to some very dark days.

From the deepest corners of my heart, thank you.

💔 A Journey of Loss, but Also of Strength

As many of you know, I’ve lost 25 of my loved ones during this devastating war. That grief lives with me every single day. It’s in the silence that once held laughter, in the empty spaces where we once gathered as a family.

But through your help, I’ve also felt something else: hope. And that hope is priceless.

“21/Oct/2023 Before It Reached Us: The Day Our Neighbor’s House Was Destroyed” A quiet moment of fear, filmed just before everything changed.

“22/Oct/2023 The Morning After: Our Family Home in Ruins” This is what was left behind after the bombing of our home.

🌿 What Life Looks Like for Us Now

Despite everything, we’re still here. Still surviving. Still hoping.

But things have only gotten harder.

The war has returned, more brutal than before—and for over a month now, Gaza has been completely sealed off. No food is coming in. No medical supplies. No aid. No trade. No one is allowed to leave, and no one is allowed to enter.

We’re trapped.

🏚 We live with the fear of tomorrow, every single day. Airstrikes, drones, and the uncertainty of what might happen next. 👨‍👩‍👧 Our family is forever changed—we haven’t just lost people; we’ve lost pieces of ourselves. 📉 Basic needs go unmet—even clean water feels like a luxury now. Medicines, if they exist at all, are unreachable.

And yet…

Your support reminds us that we’re not forgotten. It reminds us that someone, somewhere, is still listening. That someone still cares. That we’re not completely alone in this.

Every message. Every share. Every dollar. It tells us: You’re walking this road with us. And that gives us the strength to keep going.

💖 What You Can Do

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Even $5 means warmth, comfort, and a chance to breathe a little easier.

Chuffed

Donate to Help Mosab saving who's left of his family

My name is Mosab Elderawi, and I am a survivor of the war in Gaza. Life as I knew it has been completely destroyed. I have lost my home, my

✨ Why It All Matters

This isn’t just about reaching a fundraising goal. It’s about surviving war with dignity. It’s about believing in tomorrow. It’s about making sure my daughter grows up knowing that the world did not look away.

Thank you for your kindness, patience, and belief in our humanity. You’ve helped me find my voice—and I will use it to keep hope alive.

🙏 From the Heart: A Quiet Apology

There’s something I need to say—something that’s been on my heart for some time.

When I first began sharing our story, I didn’t know what the right way was. I was scared, grieving, and trying to protect my family in any way I could. I reached out to many people, hoping someone, anyone, would see us. In that process, I now realize I may have overstepped, and I might have made some feel overwhelmed.

If that happened, I am truly sorry.

Please believe me when I say it was never out of disregard or pushiness. It came from a place of fear—fear of being forgotten, fear of not being able to keep my family safe, fear of watching everything I love slip away in silence.

I’m learning as I go. I’ve slowed down. I’m more mindful now, trying to share our journey in a way that feels respectful of the space and hearts of those listening.

If my words ever came at the wrong time, or in the wrong way, I hope you can understand where they came from—and I hope you can forgive me.

Thank you for seeing past my mistakes. Thank you for still being here. It means more than I can ever explain.

Vetted by @gazavetters ( #309 )

With love and endless gratitude, Mosab and family ♥️

this is what happens when u trust an old man in the relationship... also that incest storyline when to nowhere or is it just me not thinking enough

No cause Rick pmo from the beginning LIKE HE DONT KNOW HOW TO SHOW LOVE AT ALL. This is why you don’t get with old ppl cause all of them spend their last days mad asf at the world for little to no reason. Everything was so rushed and it really irritated me and the incest storyline kinda felt unnecessary at the end of it’s just me??? Lochlans explanation for doing what he did didn’t seem valid or realistic in the slightest. They definitely could’ve added more to this because we all know Lochlan likes men but they didn’t say anything about that. Like they treated it like it wasn’t a big deal and I thought it would become way more important. I loved this season but the finale could’ve been two parts I feel

guys i can’t hold it in anymore andy samberg is top 10 finest celebrities

HE’S FUNNY, HE HAS NICE HAIR, HE’S FUNNY, HE’S HANDSOME, HE’S FUNNY.

maybe we'll meet at a bar he'll drive a funky car 😛

happy VALENTINE

70s teenage dirtbag hamzah and reader

The radio hummed low and warm, a crackling thread of music weaving through the quiet of the car. Hamzah’s fingers tapped absently against the steering wheel, rings clicking against the worn leather, but his mind wasn’t on the road, wasn’t on much of anything except the girl beside him, laughing softly at something he said five minutes ago.

The car smelled like her perfume, like jasmine and something sweet, mingling with the faintest trace of cigarette smoke and the lilies resting in her lap. She had been staring at them ever since he gave them to her, running delicate fingers along the petals, like she couldn’t believe they were hers.

“Didn’t think I was the type, huh?” he had teased when she first saw the flowers, the stuffed bunny, the little box of chocolate-covered strawberries from his cousin’s bakery.

“No, I just didn’t think you’d actually try this hard,” she smirked, but there had been something softer in her eyes, something he recognized.

Hamzah had never cared much for Valentine’s Day. It always seemed like a scam, a way for people to convince themselves they were in love for the price of a heart-shaped box. But her? She changed things. If she wanted lilies and chocolate and soft things wrapped in ribbons, then he’d give her all of it. He’d give her more.

So now, they were nowhere. Just a stretch of road fading into darkness, the distant hum of the city swallowed by trees and open sky. He pulled off onto a hill, parking beneath a massive oak tree, its branches twisting against the stars.

“Is this what you do with all your dates?” she teased, turning to face him.

“Nah,” he grinned, leaning back against his seat, hands loose in his lap. “Just you.”

Her smile wavered, just for a second, but he caught it. She didn’t know how to take it when he was sincere, when he let his guard slip. He kind of liked that.

The car ticked softly as the engine cooled, the wind slipping through the cracked windows. She peeled open the box of strawberries, picking one up and holding it to her lips before pausing. “You sure you don’t want one?”

“I got ‘em for you, sweetheart. Knock yourself out.”

She rolled her eyes, biting into the fruit, the chocolate cracking softly under her teeth. Hamzah watched her, eyes half-lidded, something lazy and fond resting in his gaze.

“Alright, now you gotta try one,” she insisted, plucking another from the box and holding it out for him.

He smirked, leaning forward, but instead of taking it from her fingers, he just bit into it, teeth gently biting her fingertips.

She gasped, pulling her hand back. “Hamzah!”

“What?” he mumbled through a mouthful of chocolate, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah,” he swallowed, licking his lips, “but you like me.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.

The music played on, soft and unintrusive, some old soul song he didn’t know the name of. Outside, the world stretched on in every direction, but inside the car, it was just them.

He reached for her hand without thinking, just feeling the need to touch, to hold. She let him, fingers curling easily around his.

“You’re warm,” she murmured.

“You always say that.”

“Because you always are.”

She turned to him, fully now, shifting so one leg tucked beneath her. The moonlight poured in through the windshield, catching in her eyes, making them gleam.

“You’re staring,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” his voice was lower now, rougher. “What about it?”

She didn’t answer, just tugged on his collar, pulling him in, slow and unhurried. Their lips met in a kiss that started soft but deepened quickly, something languid and melting, like heat unfurling in the cold night air. His hand found the side of her face, thumb tracing the curve of her cheek, while her fingers slipped into his hair, tugging, teasing.

He sighed into her mouth, pulling her closer, like he could fold her into himself, keep her there. The world outside didn’t exist. Just her lips, her breath, the way she tasted like chocolate and strawberries and something he could never quite name.

“You really didn’t have to do all this,” she murmured against his lips.

“I know,” he whispered, kissing her again, softer this time. “But I wanted to.”

@issysh3ll

Happy Valentine’s Day my loves🎀

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Okay I really like quen but um.. pokimane?? Dropouts?? Like she’s not beating the allegations I’m sorry I’m starting to think they’re true cause wtf do u mean POKIMANE like that is verrryyyyyyy weird behavior and I feel like no one cares because she’s fine. Like it’s getting weird to me.