Does Anyone Know Where I Can Get Clothes Like This??

If they do decide to remake an American psycho movie I do not think it should be Nicholas Chavez or Jacob elordi. I think those options are ass ngl. But pls pls pls cast Cory Micheal Smith. If u saw Saturday night yk he can do the voice. AND if u watch Gotham he is very good at play a psycho and he is very versatile so i think he could make to where his demeanor matches Patrick’s. He always talks about spending so much time and research into his characters and I think if they are gonna cast somebody this is what needs to happen. HE IS PATRICK BATEMAN LIKE WHAT.

I hope when yall read my Chris and Matt fic you read them with an accent.. because I do imagine them in the 70s to have a more profound Italian accent idk why just trust me on this. (Plus it’s way hotter)

Someone please request something omg I’m itching to write but not sure on what

THIS is what I see when I say 70s douchebag Chris.

⭑𓂃 on film

sturniolos on film ೃ࿔*:･ moodboard

missing their film era desperately ‧₊˚

「 𝜗𝜚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ angel bby 」

Ugh 70s tdb hamzah I miss you.. should he come back guys

Imagine gossip girl in the 70s. Like gossip girl wouldn’t be able to use phones or anything maybe it would be like a page on a teen magazine with a cute ass title page OMGG the style would be 10/10 I wanna write this so bad🙏🏽🎀

can sunday come quickierr please. i need more of the incest brothers- i mean my two bfs who are brothers 😶😁

LMAOOO😭💔 bro in all seriousness i do think lochlan did more than just jack saxon off. That walk was CRAZY. AND THE SHORTS SWAP?? yeah they’re gonna start to remember more of what happened that night fs. And saxon might kill himself. Ugh they’re so fine.. anyways..

I was wondering if you could do a Lochlan Ratliff x reader where she’s also visiting Thailand and they just have a whole romantic time together like puppy innocent love

SOMEONE NEW

lochlan ratliff and reader

The sun glistens on the surface of the pool, water shifting like liquid gold as guests lounge nearby, the soft hum of conversation mixing with the occasional splash. You let your hands drift through the cool water, your body weightless as you float, eyes half-lidded against the heat. Everything feels slow, dreamlike, the kind of afternoon where time doesn’t seem to move at all.

And then you notice him.

He’s at the far end of the pool, standing waist-deep in the water, running a hand through his damp hair. He looks out of place, not in a bad way, just… different. Like he’s unsure of what to do with himself. His light eyes flicker around the pool deck, glancing at the groups of people laughing and talking, before landing on you.

For a second, neither of you move. Then you smile, small, unsure, just enough to acknowledge the moment.

He smiles back, hesitant at first, then real.

“Hey,” he says, shifting his weight, the water rippling around him.

“Hi,” you reply softly.

It’s quiet for a beat, neither of you quite knowing what to say next. You’re not even sure why you say it, but the words slip out before you can stop them.

“Wanna play mermaids?”

His brow furrows, his lips parting slightly in confusion. “Mermaids?”

You nod.

For a moment, he just stares at you like he’s trying to figure out if you’re serious. Then, to your surprise, he lets out a small laugh. He scratches the back of his neck, his cheeks coloring slightly.

“I, uh… don’t think I know how to play mermaids.”

You grin, tilting your head. “It’s not that hard. You just have to swim like one. Kick your legs together instead of separately.”

He squints, like he’s considering it, then exhales through his nose, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle. “You’re messing with me.”

“I’m not! Just try it.”

He sighs dramatically, like he’s about to do something humiliating, and then dives under. You follow, watching as he awkwardly keeps his legs together, barely making any progress through the water. When you both surface, you’re already laughing.

“Okay, that was terrible,” you tease.

“Yeah, no shit,” he breathes, pushing his wet hair back from his forehead. “How do you do it so fast?”

You shrug. “Years of experience. You’re talking to a pro.”

His lips twitch, like he wants to say something sarcastic, but he holds back. Instead, he just watches you for a second before blurting, “I’m Lochlan, by the way.”

You give him your name in return, and he repeats it like he’s testing how it feels in his mouth.

The afternoon drifts by in easy conversation, playful splashes, and attempts at swimming like mermaids that leave both of you breathless with laughter. You don’t expect to see him again after that—vacation friendships are fleeting, and the resort is big enough that you could easily go the rest of the trip without running into him.

But later, as you’re walking through the lobby, you hear someone call your name.

You turn and find Lochlan jogging toward you, slightly out of breath, as if he had to talk himself into doing this.

“Hey,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh—do you wanna… umm.. walk around or something? Shop? Get food?”

Before you can even answer, a voice cuts in.

“You’re ditching me for her?”

You glance over and see a guy much older, very handsome, lounging on a nearby chair, watching Lochlan with a smirk. He looks between the two of you, then shakes his head in exaggerated disbelief.

Lochlan shrugs. “Yeah… sorry Saxon ”

Saxon rolls his eyes. “Whatever, dude. Have fun with your little date.”

Lochlan’s face flushes, but he ignores him, turning back to you. “So?”

You nod. “Yeah. I can go.”

The streets are alive with movement, a warm glow settling over the market as the sky begins its slow descent into dusk. You and Lochlan weave through the crowd, stopping at every other stall, fingers brushing as you reach for the same thing more than once. Neither of you acknowledge it, but neither of you pull away, either.

“You would totally rock this,” he says, holding up a sequined button-down, his face completely serious.

You snort. “Oh, absolutely. I was just thinking I needed something to blind people with.”

He grins, shoving it back onto the rack. “What about this?” He pulls out a pair of neon pink shorts.

You deadpan. “I think you should get them.”

He holds them up to his waist. “Be honest—do they bring out my eyes?”

You pretend to consider. “You might be starting a whole new fashion trend.”

Lochlan laughs, tossing the shorts back. “Okay, so no pink shorts for me. Got it.”

As you move deeper into the market, the scent of grilled meat and spices fills the air. A street vendor calls out in Thai, waving a skewer of something unidentifiable.

“You ever had that?” Lochlan asks.

You shake your head. “Let’s try it.”

He gives you a skeptical look but doesn’t argue, ordering two. The first bite is a mistake. You both cough at the same time, grabbing for drinks as your faces scrunch up in unison.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, swallowing quickly. “What was that?”

“I have no idea, but I think my mouth is on fire,” Lochlan says, eyes watering as he fans his tongue.

You burst out laughing, and despite the disaster, he does too.

The evening air is warm as the two of you wander through the night market, weaving between stalls filled with silk scarves, carved elephants, and street food sizzling on open grills. The smell of grilled skewers and fresh mango fills the air, and Lochlan reaches for your hand without thinking, pulling you toward a stall selling colorful woven bracelets.

“You think this would suit me?” he asks, holding up a bright pink one.

You laugh. “Absolutely not.”

He smirks. “I’m getting it anyway.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s something soft about the way he looks at you as he hands over a few baht, slipping the bracelet onto his wrist.

“Now you have to get one too,” he says.

You shake your head. “That’s not how this works.”

“Sure it is,” he grins, grabbing another bracelet, this one blue, softer, the color of the ocean at dusk. Without asking, he takes your wrist, fastening it gently around you. His fingers linger just a little too long, his touch warm against your skin.

Your heart stumbles.

For the rest of the night, you don’t let go of each other’s hands.

As the night deepens, the market glows with lanterns, the energy shifting into something softer, quieter. Without really thinking about it, you slip your hand into his again even after only letting go for two minutes. He doesn’t hesitate to intertwine your fingers, squeezing lightly like he’s been waiting for this moment all day.

At the end of the market, you pause near a quiet corner, away from the crowd. The silence between you is comfortable, but there’s something else there, something unspoken.

Before you can overthink it, you lean up and press a quick kiss to his cheek.

It’s barely a second, but when you pull away, Lochlan is already looking at you.

And then, without a word, he tilts his head down and catches your lips in his.

It’s quick, just a heartbeat, but it’s enough to leave your stomach in knots.

When you part, you meet his gaze, your breath still unsteady. His hand, still laced with yours, tightens slightly.

For a second, neither of you move.

And then, slowly, he leans in again.

This time, you don’t hesitate.

By the time you’re standing outside your room, the resort quiet except for the distant hum of the waves, neither of you want to say goodnight.

Lochlan hesitates, shifting on his feet, then reaches out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers brush against your cheek, feather-light, and you swear he’s closer than he was a second ago.

“Thanks for today,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost hesitant.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Me too.”

And then, before you can second-guess it, you lean up and kiss his cheek.

It’s meant to be quick, a simple goodnight. But the second your lips touch his skin, he turns his head, just slightly, just enough.

Your lips meet his.

The kiss is soft, barely more than a breath, but it sends a rush of warmth through you, curling in your chest, your fingertips.

When you pull back, his eyes are wide, searching yours, like he’s wondering if that really just happened.

You don’t say anything. You don’t have to.

He smiles, small, almost shy.

“Goodnight,” you whisper.

“Night,” he murmurs, watching you as you step inside, closing the door behind you.

And when you press your fingers to your lips, still tingling from his, you already know—

sorry this is long I got lost in the sauce..

taglist.. @italiansunsetss @sylvanianngirl @st7rnioioss-alt @sincerelykelsss @throatgoat4u @wiseladypoetry @gracieabrmslvr @pearlzier @1-hypegvrl @piperrrr-16 @mackyyyk @luna443 @flowerxbunnie @calliepie @cupidsword @notaboutlovebyfiona @recklesssturniolo @littlebookworm803 @blissfulxsins @camsturnz @st7rnioioss @yearlyism @cinnamoncunt