#Role Model

[mattscoquette]

slut era interlude. tucker pillsbury.

the hotel room was dimly lit from the lamp on the nightstand, the old mattress creaking quietly as tucker moved in and out of you slowly, his face buried in your neck.

it was like clockwork hooking up with him, he’d call you up when he was feeling down and you were there before he hung up the phone. no matter how many times he told you that there was nothing serious between you two, you always held out a little bit of hope that maybe this time would be different. it never was.

he groaned lowly into your neck, mouthing at your collarbone as he bottomed out. his big arms were wrapped around your waist, keeping a firm hold on you while he rocked his hips against yours.

“god, baby,” he muttered against your skin, “you’re always so tight for me.”

you whined softly, your back arching up as you pressed yourself against his abdomen. you scratched your nails gently down back, one hand tangling into his messy brown hair as you held him close.

“shit, tucker,” you moaned quietly, your lips pressed to the shell of his ear. you hoped that if you would always say his name, he’d call you by your name just once. instead, he’d only call you baby or sweetheart, and sometimes his old girlfriend’s name if he was really going through it. you never minded, though.

he continued to work against you, moving in slow, languid motions, filling up every inch of you perfectly. your gummy walls hugged around him, the pleasure coursing through you.

tucker let out deep and guttural moans, pressing himself into you further as he kept his face buried. “i’m gettin’ close,” he whispered into the crook of your neck, his forehead pressed against your jaw.

“i am too,” you mumbled into the darkness, your hips matching his rhythm. with a few more hard thrusts, he was finishing as he pulled out, making a mess on your stomach and the hotel sheets.

he pulled away from you, his tattooed body glistening with a sheer layer of sweat as he peered down at you. for a second there, you could almost see a hint of disappointment in his eyes when he realized you were still you, and didn’t magically turn into the girl he was still in love with.

he flopped down on the mattress beside you, leaning up to turn off the lights before pulling you close.

“goodnight tucker,” you whispered quietly, moving into him as you rested your head on his chest.

“night,” he mumbled back, racking his brain as he tried to remember your name. he sighed softly as he realized he didn’t know, and opted to kiss your head before turning over the other way.

© mattscoquette | taglist

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. ⋆˚꩜｡ eee kinda hate this and didn’t know how to end it 💔 but AYYY TUCKER FIC WHO CHEERED !!!!!! and ty to my girlie @bernardsbendystraws for proofreading ♡︎♡︎

[apollosprettyarsecheek]

Thinking about an Eros!Reader who’d been with Luke Castellan since she was fourteen, he’d been her first kiss, he’d been her first boyfriend, he’d been her first time. She’d been there on his failed quest that resulted in his scar, and practically nursed him back to health herself after. They had been the couple of Camp Half-Blood for years and years, and everyone had thought one day they’d leave Camp and get married and build themselves a life together - but nothing could ever be so simple, could it?

After Luke’s betrayal, Eros!Reader had been broken, distraught, her heart had been broken into a million pieces. Still completely inconsolable a month after, one day she’d packed up her stuff, left a note on her bed in the Hermes cabin, and left. She’d moved back in with her mom in NYC, got a job at Macy’s, but continued with composing the thoughts she wrote down in her journal into songs - a habit she’d somehow picked up since Luke left.

Eros!Reader, who started singing some of the songs online, strumming a guitar to the lyrics using skills an old Apollo camper taught her. Those videos started gaining traction, and soon enough she found herself performing them at venues that kept getting bigger and bigger, starting to release a few actual singles. After the release of her first EP, using a few of the songs she’d wrote at Camp, she’d started gaining much more popularity, which caught the attention of Apollo.

Apollo, whose interest had been caught by Eros’s only half-blood daughter, girlfriend - ? - of Hermes’s precious son, who apparently has taken up a career in singing-songwriting, which is very much attention grabbing for him, because usually it’s his kids taking up that career. So, instead of coming to you as himself, he, of course, took form of the signer he’d created for this century - an early twenties, male indie singer who was steadily becoming big, and he’d introduced himself to you through your DMs.

Apollo, who by Eros!Reader’s next tour was performing as a special guest at the majority of her shows. He’d crept up on her, she’d originally thought of him as a friend, a close friend, who’d just came out of the blue, and then she’d realised who he actually is after putting the dots together, finally connecting them from what some monster said. She’d obviously freaked out, feeling exposed and lied to and embarrassed, and completely ignored him. Until one night, writing in her old journal, putting together lyrics that, for once, weren’t about Luke, but instead about him, about what had been his role in her life. She’d reconnected with him not long after that, giving him a second chance, and realised, beside his name, nothing he told her is really an outright lie, and neither are his songs, after he’d explained it all out to her.

Eros!Reader, who actually loved being on her second actual tour with Apollo, loved singing her songs with him in front of her fans, loved travelling with him by car or plane, loved looking at him with gooey eyes on stage and seeing videos online of those moments, loved hearing stories about him and his ‘childhood’, loved walking around foreign cities late at night with him, loved how she didn’t have have that lingering thought of monsters attacking at her shows, loved getting to actually know him, and most of all loved him.

Eros!Reader, who finally loved someone else, who doesn’t cry every night about Luke leaving her, who doesn’t wish Luke would come back, who finally doesn’t love Luke, who has finally found pure and genuine happiness again.

[telugxrl13]

@bookworm-fangirl1 heheheh

reblog for more reach, we need your opinions guys 🥰

however, don't feel obligated to vote! this is not meant to cause any real shipping amongst coneheads, just to see where y'all ended up after conan's boykissing. its satire and i wont be posting much like this again <3

[whoreash]

superglue ──★ ˙🍓 ̟

“sae?” the words leave you like a whisper, afraid to scare your, highly, unwell, boyfriend.

while you would have preferred an answer, the silence engulfed you— your face, practically, moulding into the door as you try to hear for any signs of danger, or anger, or sadness.

although, you didn’t, really, know what you were, exactly, searching for— as, well, you’ve never had to deal with drunk sae. until now, that is.

and, god knows what type of drunk he was. it seemed even his teammates, that hurried him into your apartment, were cautious and foreign to sae in this state. so, you tried giving him space, letting the sobriety slowly seep in.

but, now, with a bathroom door in front of you, that’s been locked for 17 minutes, you were starting to get obnoxiously worried and… curious.

“princess?” the nickname woke sae up instantly, hand flinging to the door handle and opening it, ever so slightly, with squinted eyes. a small ‘ah’ escaped your lips, as you, finally, saw his overly messy hair and flushed cheeks, in full glory.

“i— i told you not to call me that,”

his words were, so apparently, slurred even through the attempts of trying to clear his throat. it was, almost, cute— no, very cute. the slowness and coarseness of his words making your own mind swirl with a daze. although, one thing that didn’t change during sae’s intoxication was his direct, clear eye contact that burnt into your skull.

“it got your attention, though, didn’t it?”

the door, in return, closed on you instantly.

okay, so he’s sensitive— no harsh words. console, comfort and reassure. no jokes and, definitely, no bad nicknames.

“hey— sae, baby, come on,” you knock on the door, again, with just the tip of your knuckles, coaxing him to you, in measured movements. “sae, remember the last time i was drunk? do you remember what helped me?”

of course, he remembered the most restless night of his life— but, somehow, your small ‘baby’s’ succumbed him to the thought of it. the feeling of a snug bed that let his heavy head drop, and the feeling of your scent around him seemed to captivate sae’s mind more than the alcohol did.

“cuddling in bed naked,”

which is exactly how you ended up together, tangled in the duvet with just underwear on and sae’s head in the crook of your neck. ironic where he ended up today, when last time this happened he was complaining the whole way through about clammy bodies, clingy arms and mismatched sleep rhythms. this will, definitely, be brought up in the morning, when he’s not so delicate and vulnerable— a true royal princess.

“want to tell me why you’re so drunk?”

silence. for ten seconds. then twenty. then thirty.

“was scared,”

“what could you, possibly, be scared of itoshi sae?”

“losing you.”

you didn’t ask any further questions after that, although you contemplated it, you also knew how unwilling sae would be to answer them, and, anyways, he was asleep in the next minute or so. instead, you, carefully, held onto him all night, through all the clammy bodies and odd sleeping rhythms.

you hoped that he’d get the hint, and when he woke up with your sweaty arms on him— this time he accepted it with slight reluctance.

note : this is in honour of me getting role model tickets a day after my birthday!! anyways, apologies for not being active like AT ALL, exam season has been killing me and also,,, grinding genshin oops <3. thankfully, exams finish in two weeks so i will be back super soon with a new chapter for evermore!!

[mi-co-uk]

so this flopped butttt i woke up with 99+ notifications for the first time ever

so I see that as a win 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

kansas anymore

──★ " am I still sounding like a fool? "

˚‧｡⋆part three‧₊ ᵎᵎ

a love triangle AU inspired by ROLE MODEL'S "Kansas Anymore" album.

1k words

𝗇𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗀𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 || 𝖺𝗎 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 || <- 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 || 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 ->

he could choose to take initiative and fix his problems, or he could wallow in self pity. Matt consistently chose the latter. 

It was the overwhelming idea it was all pointless. His childhood self had ruined his chances of getting the life he truly wanted, a life with you. Now you were successful, maybe even happy, maybe even growing a preference for his brother instead of him. Maybe that had happened a lot sooner than hed realised. 

Matt watched you laugh at chris’ jokes, he watched you eye him the same way you used to look at matt. It had only been a few days and chris had you more enamored than he felt youd ever been with him. Had it ever been reciprocated the same? He could trade blame all he wanted, the consequences played out in front of him, the truth wasnt something he could handle. 

He finished his drink, and then another drink, and another. Until his vision was hazy, watching the spark between you and chris become less detailed, more bearable. Until his legs started walking, he started talking. Then he made everything worse. 

You watched as he stumbled over, the cup in his hand once again empty. 

“Can- can i talk to you?” 

He barely spoke, careful and considered with eyes that begged. Chris didnt spare any sympathy, only disgust. Maybe it was the young girl inside you that gave in, maybe it was the current pathetic side of you. He stood there with decreasing hope, maybe that was convincing enough. 

You handed chris your drink, not acknowledging his conflicted expression as you stepped delicately over to matt. 

“Matt what-”

“Im sorry, im so sorry. I didnt- didnt mean to ruin it.” he leaned his head a little down, as if his guilt was literally weighing on his mind. “Everything. I ruined everything.”

He subconsciously dropped his cup, shifting closer as he spoke to you. You had to press your hand a little on his chest in fear he would fall on top of you. He placed his own hand over yours, pulling them both up to place over where his heart was. He continued his relentless apologies. 

“Was suppose to look after you ‘n i-i didnt ‘n we left but you didnt. You didnt leave me- my heart my mind, you were always on my mind-”

“Matt.” you halted his rambling, placing your hands above where your heart would be as oppose to his. “Listen to me.”

He nodded, eyes sparkling from tears and mouth tightly lipped together to prevent words from spilling out. 

“We were kids, we grew up. You grew out of me-”

“Didnt- didnt, i didnt i-” he shook his head, slurring as he spoke.

“Its okay, its okay. It was important to you-”

“Youre important.”

Silence spilled between the two of you, mental apologies and mental forgiveness echoed in the eye contact as you both ignored the party carrying out around you.

He pulled both of his hands to your face, no tilt forward, he just wanted to see you. See you without the anger hed forced you to leave him with, to see if there was even a spark of love left for him. His thumb wiped your tear, scanning between the your eyes. 

“Was suppose to look after you, ‘n i didnt. Suppose to be there and- and i fucking left you i-” he choked a little on his words. “I-i was suppose to love you, and i acted like i didnt. ‘m sorry-”

You hurriedly pressed your lips against his, matt instantly reciprocated. You pulled at the collar of his shirt to deepen it, making sure not to think enough to stop yourself. Slowly you pulled away, he stared at you in awe.

“Stop talkin’ so much.” you mumbled, looking down to the floor in avoidance of his heavy gaze. 

He tasted like alcohol and pity. You wanted to try, wanted to see if it felt the same. You’d wanted pity years ago, you wanted his pity when he broke up with you. Did you really need it anymore? 

You felt his burning eyes, finally peering over in his direction. Chris stared, practically through you. 

It made you feel sick, you were sick, sick of all of this. Sick of the both of them leaving things unsaid, expecting you to know, expecting anything at all from you. You didnt owe either of them anything. Yet here you were, chasing the feeling of being wanted. 

You stormed away from everyone, from your thoughts and yourself. Back in the alley, separated from them once again. Was it cruel? Did it make you cruel? Did they both deserve it? Treating you like an option for so many years so you treated them as such?

You gripped at your face, wiping, pushing, pulling at yourself. You wanted to claw your thoughts out. They pulled at your lungs, closing yourself in as if you were about to implode. Your feet lost balance, using the wall as support to slowly crouch down onto the floor.

You covered your face, conflicting the idea of smothering yourself so you didnt have to live this moment for another second.

But it wouldnt work, nothing had worked the way you wanted it to. Maybe this was your karma, years praying for him to beg, to be wanted desperately just for it to feel so utterly wrong. He was drunk, you couldnt be sure he even meant it. How could chris want you to? He didnt know who you were any more, he surely only liked the idea of having you when you were kids. None of it was real. You were, but you wished you werent. 

You walked yourself to a cab, walked yourself into the hotel. You cleaned up your ruined makeup, tucked yourself into bed. It felt heavy, the same routine you were used to felt more like a burden then usual. You had what you wanted in the palm of your hand. It wasnt the same, that felt heavier too. You wanted something easy, something that wasnt to hard to carry. 

a/n this took so long to sit down and actually start but and then i wrote it all in one sitting YIPEE

taglist:

everything taglist: @pair-of-pantaloons @oopsiedaisydeer @corspebridedelrey @browniepop62 @izzylovesmatt @michele-sturns @courta13 @sturns-mermaid @emely9274 @baebadoobee4ever @fw-lee @afr8idofrats @stvrniolotrxpl3ts @chrxsprettygirl @franticroads @m4gz-png @clairomatt @allisonclairee @mattshorsenecklace @whor3ing @matts-girlfriend @obsessedwiththesturniolos @shadowthesim237 @chrisslut04 @jetaimevous @eeyoresturnz @dolliraez @sugarraez @pizzapocketpocketpizza @k1ssettae @pink1man @bbgirlmatt @fadedstvrn @sturnslutz @ribbonlovergirl @msvalsius @mattsfavoriteteddybear @sturnberries @jacsismattswife @tezzzzzzzz @matts-hersheys-kisses @ilovesamgoldencoch

+ all matt only taglist : @trulygentle @tori-isss-dying

+ all chris only taglist : @kitty-meow-meow44

+ angst and fluff only taglist : @xeneasworld @auttysturnz @kayskreativeideas @franticroads

+ @whore4chris

[thewineranout]

[emotionalblues]

HAPPY NATIONAL BOYFRIEND DAYYY TO MY BOYFRIENDS + MORE

[ferrariswiftiespace]

sweet nothing

tucker pillsbury x fem!reader

faceclaim olivia rodrigo

summary you moved to a different city for your job and you meet your pretty neighbor

a/n what do you mean theres zero fics on this man, this diva needs a fic!!! also i’ll probably make two more chapters

chapter 2

you had spent your whole life in new york, a city that ran on chaos and ambition, so when your company transferred you to portland for a year, you were caught completely off guard. your best friend almost threw herself off her couch when you told her, and the night before your flight, you both cried over takeout and a half-empty bottle of wine. the goodbye at the airport was even worse—dramatic, tearful, complete with her clinging to your arm like you were being shipped off to war.

but now, sitting on the plane, you realized maybe it wasn’t that serious. your job covered everything—rent, furniture, relocation expenses. you even got to pick out your apartment, a sleek space downtown that would probably be filled with unopened boxes when you arrived. and, of course, it was. for a week, you lived in organized chaos, setting up furniture between long workdays, learning to navigate a city that moved at half the speed of new york. but there was one thing left: your refrigerator.

it had been delivered, but instead of making it to your unit, it was left stranded in the lobby like a lost puppy. you stood in front of it, hands on your hips, scanning for the landlord who had been so helpful before. nowhere to be found. great.

after a few minutes of attempting to budge the massive appliance, you were sweating and annoyed, ready to admit defeat. that’s when the lobby doors swung open, and a group of guys walked in, loud and easygoing, their conversation filling the space.

“yo, you need help with that?”

you turned to see the one who spoke first—a guy with a ridiculously pretty face, all soft features and warm eyes, but his arms were covered in tattoos, the contrast making him look effortlessly cool.

“uh—yeah, actually,” you admitted, stepping back. “i don’t think i can carry this thing up alone.”

“no shit,” one of his friends laughed, already grabbing one end. the other followed, and the tattooed guy—clearly the leader of the group—took the other side. together, they made it look easy, lifting the refrigerator and maneuvering it toward the elevator.

on the way up, you learned a few things. the guy with the tattoos lived in the building. his name? still a mystery. but he was funny, effortlessly charming, and had the kind of confidence that made you think he was used to people paying attention to him.

when they finally got the fridge into your apartment, you tried to insist on paying them back somehow—pizza, beer, literally anything—but they waved it off.

“don’t worry about it,” tattoo guy said, stepping back toward the door. then, as if remembering something, he turned around. “by the way, i’m tucker. i live right below you, so if you need anything, knock.”

you smiled. “sofia. and thanks. i’ll keep that in mind.”

a few days passed, work kept you busy, and before you knew it, the holiday weekend rolled around, giving you some much-needed time off. that’s when you remembered—brownies. a thank-you gesture for tucker and his friends.

so, you spent the morning baking, your apartment filled with the smell of melted chocolate and sugar. once they had cooled, you packed them into a container, hesitated for a second—was this too much?—then shook the thought away. he had literally carried a fridge for you; brownies were the least you could do.

taking a breath, you made your way downstairs and knocked on his door.

the door swung open almost immediately, and there he was—tucker, standing barefoot in a loose t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair a little messy like he had just woken up. he blinked at you, then smiled.

“hey,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.

you barely gave him time to react before blurting out, “i made brownies as a thank-you for the other day, but i’m burning my hands, so you have to take them, and don’t say no.”

his eyebrows shot up in amusement before he let out a laugh, quickly grabbing the warm pan from your hands. “jesus, okay, bossy,” he teased, stepping back into his apartment. then, without missing a beat, he called over his shoulder, “come over.”

you hesitated for a second—was this too forward?—but he had already disappeared inside, so you took a careful step in. his place was effortlessly cool, a little messy in a way that felt lived-in rather than chaotic. a few guitars leaned against the wall, a record player sat on a low table, and there were scattered polaroids taped around.

he placed the brownies on the kitchen counter, then turned to you with a grin. “so, my friends don’t know you made these, which means i’m gonna eat them alone. even though i probably shouldn’t.”

you giggled, leaning against the counter. “it’s not like you have diabetes.”

he gave you a look—one of those slow, amused stares, his lips twitching like he was holding back a laugh.

“i do, actually.”

your stomach dropped. “oh my god.” your hand flew to your mouth in horror. “i’m so sorry, i shouldn’t have said that. and now i gave you brownies—fuck, no.”

tucker, meanwhile, was fully laughing now, shaking his head as he leaned against the counter. “it’s okay, you didn’t know.” he softened, looking at you like you were the funniest thing he’d seen all day. “it’s really sweet of you, but i can eat them—i just have to be careful.”

your face felt hot, embarrassment washing over you. “i swear i’m really, really sorry.”

he smirked. “if you keep saying sorry, i’m gonna tell the administrator to kick you out of your apartment.”

your eyes widened. “okay, yes, sorry—i mean, sorry for saying sorry.”

“stop it.”

you clamped your mouth shut, pressing your lips together to keep from apologizing again. tucker watched you, clearly entertained, then pushed the pan toward you.

“you wanna test them with me? make sure you’re not secretly poisoning me after that little incident?”

you exhaled a laugh, finally relaxing. “yeah, okay.”

and just like that, you found yourself sitting in his kitchen, sharing brownies with your downstairs neighbor who, apparently, could make fun of you all day if you let him.

[leaawrites]

Sally!

Tucker Pillsbury/Role Model x fem!reader

Summary: Tucker bringing an extra special guest on stage for 'Sally'.

Warnings: fluff, some angst at the beginning

Wordcount: 0.6k

This can be read as a part two to Tour Date, doesn't have to though.

Masterlist, Hollywood Masterlist

The crowd was already buzzing with anticipation. Everyone's eyes glued to the side of the stage to not miss the person coming out from behind it tonight.

What became a fun occasion for fans to go on stage with Tucker quickly turned into a tradition partaken by celebrities. And now it was her turn.

Nervously she bounced her foot on the wooden floor, mumbling the words she knew by heart already. Having stood in the crowd countless times already gave her an advantage to knowing how the night would progress.

Usually she would be standing here and watch, not prepare, or in the middle of the crowd, acting like any other fan there to see him. And while she was there to see him, she wasn't just any other fan.

Which was the whole problem.

Tucker had gotten the idea the moment they came up with the tradition. 'Someday, I want you up there,' he said as they both stood in front of the stage after soundcheck one day. 'And I won't hold back showing how much I love you.'

It was a horrible idea in her mind as first. Every bad thought she ever had about herself crawling back up her spine. But he made it seem so easy. Jumping around on stage, joking with fans, making them feel like they were nothing but long distance friends that haven't seen each other in a while.

"Alright," she mumbled as they came closer to the bridge with every word. "This is gonna be alright, it's nothing crazy."

And then she heard it, "Who is my Sally tonight, huh?"

Her cue. Her time to step out. Shaking the nerves from her body, she let her body move to the music like they'd done together countless times in their living room. Eyes steadily focusing on him and nothing else. His outstretched hand as he waited for her to be close enough to pull her in.

"Oh my god," he said into the mic. "It's the girl of my dreams!"

At his words, not only did she feel lighter, her muscles were easier to move now, the fans were screaming, raving, trying to get a closer look at her.

When her hand got to his, he took it tightly, pulling her closer to his chest so that there was just enough space for the mic to reach his lips. Squeezing her hand before twirling her in a silly manner he started singing with the crowd.

'Oh shit, here we go again'

Every gaze was focused on them. The words laying heavy in the air around them.

'I'm falling head first'

Pulling her in again, he never left her enough time to pull away fully. With his hand on her waist, he moved their bodies like they were dancing only for the two of them, not with hundreds of eyes watching them. Adrenaline flooding every nerve system in the room.

'Ankles hit the two-step, Sally makes my head hurt'

The smile inevitable on his face, taking over his body as he messed up the lyrics when seeing her comfortably pull away and skipping across stage. Moving to the melody like standing on stage wasn't new to her.

'Heard through the grapevine, she can be a diva'

She acted it out, did the things she did in the crowd. Singing with him. Dancing like no one was watching.

'Cold like Minnesota, hotter than a fever'

And when it came back to the chorus, Tucker screamed, "Sally!" before pulling her in. Crashing his lips on hers and making the room freak out once more. More shouting, more excited screaming, more silence in their heads. It was done now. They had done it and it couldn't have been better.

'Private, but not a secret' They agreed on it before the show.

[bitter69uk]

Wishing everyone a Divine extra-filthy Valentine's Day! Pic by Laura Levine via.

[alexiasleftoversalmon]

Brb sobbing, this is SO CUTE 😭❤️💙

[ribbonsinurhair]

she’s a plane ride home ⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆˙⟡

[goryamberdoll]

i will always adore and support a crazy lady. how can you fumble someone who literally matches your psycho, i’ll never understand.

[main-character-magazine]

ROLE MODEL | Dork (2024)

[latenighttalkinqwp]

as a role model girlie, i am in SHAMBLES.

[bodyhorror-bimbo]

Like half the days now I end up getting a ride to campus from a cool older transfem from my Thirsty Sword Lesbians group. She will just see me waiting at the bus stop, and park her car for a moment, and I get in. I don’t think it’s a crush, but like fuck she’s cool. She’s like near 30, poly, goes to like concerts and queer events in Sac on weekends.

I think I wanna be her lol.