#slumber party game

[goodiecornbread]

Top 3 911 Lone Star characters (excluding tarlos) ?

Athena Grant or Tommy Vega?

FMK: Alexis Rose, Ted Mullens, Stevie Budd

Peter Krause. Hot or not?

Rob Lowe. Hot or not?

Top 3 Lone Star, in no order: Grace, Nancy, Paul

Athena-- sorry Tommy! Athena is mother.

Fuck Alexis, marry Stevie, kill Ted (sorry bro!)

Peter Krause is hot. He was always handsome, but whoooo boy.

Rob Lowe is hot. Always has been, always will be.

[sandinmybed]

"firstly... FIRSTLY the intention is misrepresented, then the act is greatly exaggerated, and THEN it becomes pluralized? what a NARC" suddenly I understand how Dan could've been a lawyer

[neishroom]

slumber party w gabriel's besties!

[reunitedinterlude]

(not so) little goody two shoes (1, 2)

[aroace-rizgukgak]

One thing about Brennan is that when he talks about wild shit he's done, he knows the EXACT numbers. "I stayed awake for 81 hours" eighty one hours? That is such a specific amount. How did you calculate that?? How did you know when the staying awake started and ended? In response to "have you ever got back with an ex" he says "eight times, nine times together in total" very easily, like he already internally recorded that, he COUNTED. How would you even remember after the fourth or fifth time, do they not start to blur together? I love when people give Specifics in their life stories.

[mysimsloveaffair]

This one surprised me! I wasn't expecting it, but I'm happy to present another giveaway. 🎊🎉🎈

Thanks to the EA Creator Network for the extra PC game codes to give to a lucky follower! The winner will receive codes for both kits.

To Enter:

❤️ Follow Me

❤️Like This Post

❤️That’s It

Extra Entries (optional):

❤️Reblog this post (+1)

❤️Follow me on simsloveaffairreblogs (+1) [comment ‘following’ below if you’re already following]

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Ends:  Friday, November 15, 2024, 10pm CST (winner will be notified via Tumblr messages)

Thanks, and good luck! 🤗

[goldenpinof]

yeah, exactly

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬.

main masterlist

pairing(s) — bull-rider!MATTHEW TKACHUK x barrel racer!hughes!reader (can be read as an unnamed oc) wc — 1.8k synopsis — wear the hat, ride the cowboy—even if it might get you disowned.

note — there's one line referring to the reader as jack's twin, but no physical description is given. also, this one-shot is a "party favor" from our feb slumber party

specific content warnings under the cut.

cw — quinn being a dramatic, misogynistic douche-canoe 3000 for the entirety (ratty matty has his moments, too), no actual smut but it's heavily implied they do the dirty on the reg, a disgustingly intimate situationship — ick, off-color comment(s) relating to first times and the concept of virginity, lots and lots of familial angst (jack is a snake), oh! and more than a few loose ends... but you know the drill by now, i'm incapable of keeping a story contained

“Go on, Palomino Princess. Ride me like one of your ponies.” 

Condescension drips from the lazy taunt. Matthew earns a palm to the chest for it; her ire lands with a faint thud, but he doesn’t mind. He gets off on riling her up, and after two years of backseat meetings and hushed phone calls, he’s damn good at it too. That, and she might be the most reactive person he’s ever met—and that’s saying something. 

Matthew’s been going head-to-head with all three of her brothers for over a decade, and he’s known their family for even longer. Having a short fuse must be genetic.    

“Y’won’t break me if that’s the hold-up. S’gonna take a hell of a lot more than a dry humpin’ buckle bunny to put me outta commission, sweetheart.” 

He knows damn well she ain’t anywhere close to the derogatory term, but he likes what the complete disregard for her accomplishments does to her deceptively cherubic face. 

It may look less harrowing than every other event on the card, but barrel racing ain’t for the faint-hearted. The event is a death wish personified, and it feels about as good as someone taking a metal pipe to both shins. It takes balls—metaphorically, in her case—to charge into an arena on an American Quarter horse with the intention of guiding it through a cloverleaf pattern around three barrels while sprinting at top speed, but it takes dedication and skill to succeed the way she has. The winner is determined by just thousandths of a second. 

The woman perched on his tailgate is unmatched—undefeated.  

Flames of pride lap at his loins, the fire of desire stoked by the wicked roll of her hips. 

“Ohh—shit!” Matthew hisses, his head lolling back as his hips buck into her heat. 

She smirks, apparently vindictive as ever. “How’s that, cowboy? Everything you dreamed?” 

“And more,” he growls as he grabs a fistful of her backside. 

His grip is tighter than it needs to be as he switches positions. Not nearly as rough as she would prefer it; beggars can’t be choosers.  

Matthew steps between her knees, and, despite herself, she shivers with anticipation. Chuckling, amusement twinkles in his baby blues. “Now give me a kiss, sweetheart. My lips are feelin’ a little lonely tonight, and you happen to be wearin’ my hat, Little Miss.” 

He flicks the brim of his hat. She catches it before it hits the ground before plopping it back on the rightful owner, the damage already done.  

“You just love that antiquated rule,” she shakes her head while most definitely laughing at his expense. “Y’wouldn’t see any action without it, now would you?” 

Matthew grins. Trading insults is his favorite form of foreplay. “Neither would you. Isn’t that your signature move, outlaw?”

“I should kick you to the back of the line with that attitude. Hell, I’d probably be better off keeping you at a distance anyway.” 

“Keep mouthin’ off and see how far it gets ya. Definitely nowhere near that McMansion castle you call home, that’s for sure.” 

“Oh, don’t you worry ‘bout me, sugar. I’ve got plenty of options if I need a ride home.” 

“I’ll bet, show pony. Sexiest can chaser east of the Mississippi; who wouldn’t be chomping at the bit to carry Cinderella home to her Daddy?” 

Men have a habit of gawking at her; Matthew has a habit of relieving them of their teeth. 

He leans in to taunt her ear with greedy lips and barbed arrogance. “Best of luck finding one that’ll fuck you better than me.”     

“Do you think about other guys fucking me often?” she fires without missing a beat.

More than he would like, actually.

With a heavy, drawn-out sigh, he runs a hand over his face. His patience is running thin, and his jeans are starting to chafe. Exasperated, he tries coaxing her to reason, “Sweetheart, c’mon. We both know you want this—want me. Stop makin’ this so damn hard.” 

“Why? Because you already are?” 

Matthew makes an exaggerated show of play-biting her scrunched-up nose. 

“Woman, you drive me insane.”

“It’s why you’re so obses—“ 

Her teasing is thwarted by the sound of her own name. Spat out of her older brother’s mouth like a heirloom gone sour, it's no great surprise Quinn looks at her like he can’t recognize her. Like a stranger—like a traitor. 

Guilt, thin and fleeting, pieces the tenderness between her ribs. 

She squirms, attempting to put some distance between them as if that could erase the discovery—and her culpability—from his mind. Matthew and his shit-eating grin keep her from getting too far but don’t be fooled. This is no chivalrous encouragement to stand her ground. It’s got nothing to do with her and everything to do with her brother. 

Quinn rages outside the hauler housing Matthew’s precious 3500 Laramie. Walking by, seeing the main trailer hitched Brady’s F-350 made his stomach churn. It didn’t sit right, and now he knew why. 

“You can’t be serious! Nuh-uh, no—no fucking way. Get out here before I drag you out myself.”  

At his tone, what little remorse she felt dissipates. They were both far too old for his tired, overbearing song-and-dance. 

“Who died and made you king?” 

Quinn, blinded by overripe anger, sweeps over the irritation, twisting her tongue and the disbelief arching her brow. “I thought I made myself clear last time. Don’t make me repeat myself.” 

“Oh, crystal, Quinny.” Matthew snorts at the juvenile nickname but is swiftly cajoled into silence with a pinch to the side. “Message received.” 

“Then quit screwin’ around and get your ass back to the truck before Dad blows a gasket. He’s been lookin’ all over for you. So, you best be thanking your lucky stars I got here first. That its me catchin’ you red-handed colluding with the enemy.” 

He’s so serious, nearly shaking with rage, it’s difficult not to laugh. She can count on one hand the instances wherein her brother became visibly angry—all of them involving the man standing between her dangling feet. She fares better than him, but that’s to be expected. Unlike her accomplice, for her, there’s real risk involved. 

“Just ‘cause I heard you don’t mean I have to listen.” 

Lips pressed to her temple, Matthew clicks his tongue in approval. ‘Bout damn time she started giving back what Quinn so readily dishes out. 

“Look, y’can spread your legs for anyone with big dreams and a buckle some other night. Parade around the circuit acting like a slut, see if I give a shit. But not tonight. And not with him.” 

The knowing glint in Quinn’s blackened eyes is telling, but it isn’t as menacing as he thinks it is. The Hughes heir apparent couldn’t be judge, jury, and executioner. He doesn’t have a lick of proof. Just suspicion and a personal vendetta the size of Texas. 

A safety net swaying below, Matthew decides to have a little fun. “Whoa, settle down, Trust Fund. Y’can’t talk to a lady like that, ‘specially not your sister.” 

He’s no white knight, but he can pretend. 

And isn’t that what you’re all doing? Pretending to be people you aren’t. Acting out your roles, putting on a show. After all, a performance will always be more entertaining than the truth. 

“—and here I thought etiquette classes were a Rodeo Royalty rite of passage. Glad t’know she ain’t the only roughneck hellion in your family tree, Huggy.” 

Quinn’s jaw tightens. His tongue threatens to put a hole through his cheek. Hands on his hips, the eldest sibling only nods. He ignores Matthew entirely. 

“Real winner y’got there. A class act. You really know how to pick ‘em—cream of the goddamn crop. Say, what’re you gonna do when he inevitably gets bored of you? When he gets his hands on a fresh doe-eyed virgin to tarnish?” 

After she finishes with Matthew, she’s kicking Jack’s sorry ass. 

Those anxieties—and that majorly personal tidbit of information—were shared in confidence. Because unlike her older brother, she trusted her twin. Well, she used to, at least. Luke’ll be over the moon at the chance to be her favorite. 

She bares her teeth like a scorned lapdog. “We’re not kids anymore, Q. You can’t push me around whenever you want or tell me what to do like you’re my father. And you sure as shit can’t bully me into submission, either. Give it up, or get lost.” 

“Whatever,” Quinn barks as he backs away from the trailer. “Your fuckin’ funeral.” 

Listening to the fading sound of her brother’s Ariats pounding through the dirt, she buries her face in the warm, familiar crook of Matthew’s neck; she needs a moment alone. He seems to understand this, his mouth zipped shut as he runs calloused hands up and down her sides. She’s breathing heavily, but he does her the simple mercy of leaving it be. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I was growing on you,” Matthew hums, a low-maintenance attempt to lighten the mood. 

They don’t do the touchy-feely BS. It’s one of the things that reeled him in—and kept him coming back. 

“But you do.” She pulls away to look up at him, chin resting on his sternum. He hates that her melancholic eyes are red-rimmed. “—and stop thinking, it doesn’t suit you.” 

“And what does, princess? I’m dyin’ for your insight.” 

“Shut the door and I’ll show you.” 

He blinks, taken aback. Who is this brazen tart, and when did she take your place? Matthew wonders to himself. Maybe he is the bad influence everyone paints him as… He hasn’t really thought about it until now, and it's troubling the way it makes his chest tighten. 

Matthew clears his throat—and, from his mind, the distressing notion that he’s ruined someone good with his carelessness—as he leans over. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

He pulls the hauler’s heavy metal door shut with clamorous finality.  

Matthew Tkachuk might be the most self-serving swindler on dirt, but Quinn Hughes is just another name on his list. A box to tick and then forget. He wouldn’t lose sleep, it wasn’t like their friendship meant a damn thing. Not anymore. A friend turned foe, reduced to another obstacle in his way, a hurdle to jump. 

Tonight, his sister’s fealty; tomorrow, his title.

Retribution is at his fingertips, so close he can taste it. Yet, it would seem that Matthew merely traded one hornet’s nest for another. 

At least this one’s easy on the eyes. 

⤑ to my inbox💌

⬸ back to the catalog  (writing masterlist) 

⬸ back to the main blog 

All of the stories and fantasies written or discussed on this blog by the owner or by followers are purely fictional and are not intended to offend any parties.

©2024 holy-pucks, all rights reserved. I do not give consent for any of my work to be copied, re-posted, or translated here, on Tumblr, or on any other platform. Reproduction of any content from this blog is considered plagiarism.

[thezombieprostitute]

I was initially just writing this "because" but then @the-slumberparty posted their Emoji Challenge: create something based on the last three emojis you've used. My emojis were 😉😘😏 and it really fit with all of this.

Entirely written on my phone, so apologies for typos!

+++++++

Character reactions to "I need kisses!"

Bucky Barnes is immediately on you. Kissing along your shoulder, your neck until finally getting to your lips and going for a deep kiss. After which, he pulls away and, smiling, asks "feeling better?" 😘

Curtis Everett comes up behind you and holds you as he gives you a few kisses on your neck. He follows it up with nuzzling his beard over he kissed you. He doesn't let go or stop nuzzling until you tell him you're doing better. 😘

Hal Carter winks and says with a smile, "that's my specialty." He pulls you in and starts kissing your neck and lips and doesn't stop until you're laughing and trying to push him away. 😉

Jake Jensen immediately grabs you and starts kissing you all over your face making you giggle. When you're laughing too hard to keep still for kisses he pulls away and asks if you need anything else. 😘

Jonathan Pine starts with a kiss to your hand, while making full eye contact. Then he moves to your cheek, and then your lips. He kisses you with that gentle firmness that goes straight to your core. He pulls away, "is there anything else I can do for you?" 😘

Johnny Storm goes right for your lips and makes sure to caress your curves as he does so. He only pulls away when he's sure you're starting to get hot and bothered. 😏

Lee Bodecker smirks and says, "then get your sweet lips over here and let me kiss ya properly." He makes sure to smack your ass as he kisses you, grinning at your squeal. 😏

Lloyd Hansen smirks and says, "only if you take off your panties so I can kiss both sets of lips." Heat rushes to your face but you comply and he gives you a wink before kissing you all over. 😉

Nick Fowler holds your face in both hands and licks his lips before giving you another of those firm kisses that make you weak. He pulls away for only a moment before giving you a gentle kiss. He caresses your cheek and winks, "care for more?" 😉

Ransom Drysdale gives you a kiss on the cheek and goes back to what he was doing. When you pout he gives you a small smile, "I suppose you did use the plural form." He plants a kiss on your other cheek and gives you a soft smile. 😘

Sam Wilson starts kissing you all over your face. You start giggling and he ends up pulling you into the couch with him, his lips never leaving you for long. It quickly escalates to a full make out session, more if you want it to. 😏

Steve Rogers gives you a loving look and starts gently kissing your lips. After a few light kisses, he gradually starts increasing the intensity, not stopping until you're out of breath. 😘

++++

Let me know what you think! Who did I get right/wrong?

[boujeesimss]

lazy sunday mornings ☕️ also loving the new @trillyke slumber pack! 🤍

@trillyke

[sburbling]

starting a collection

[applebees4prez]

my only complaint about dropout is that they make too many good shows and i do not have time to watch them all. also put emily axford in more things.

[dropoutconfessions]

Rules and other notices

Only send asks on anon, it's how confessions work, but I won't stop you from adding your name. I'll dm you to verify that you did want your name attached if so.

No racism, homophobia, ableism, etc etc any bigotry, this is a place of honor and decency

NSFW asks are fine with me, as long as they aren't overly para-social, this is a place of dishonor and indecency. To clarify, you can be weirder about Dimension 20 or VIP characters than you can be about real people

Keep things focused on the shows. The casts' personal life is a no go unless discussed on camera. Please include where it was mentioned so I don't have to scrub an entire episode to verify it.

Feel free to respond to other asks, this is a community, it exists for discussions.

Tagging System

#important notices - This is where rule updates and other notices will be posted. I will also update the pinned post when relevant.

#not an ask - It's a tumblr gimmick blog, but I will talk sometimes.

#ask - self explanatory

#nsfw - self explanatory

#negative dropout confession - negative ask, check update for more explanation

i will also be tagging relevant characters, shows, and names

[futuristic-imbecile]

I think jacob wysocki has to find a way to go super saiyan on every dropout show now. I believe in him

[internetphriends]

why is no one talking about “he stared at my friend very intently in a car park behind a bin”

[meerkat-sims]

so i'm setting the scene: you're nancy landgraab, san myshuno real estate mogul and morally bankrupt milf. you've gotten home to your luxurious uptown apartment after a long day at your office, having weapons-grade toxic sexual tension with vita alto. this evening, you're securing a deal with an albino otter of a property developer to bulldoze some poxy spice district tenement flats and build glass-and-steel modernist monstrosities that will make you both a cool million. your wet blanket of a husband is away at some boring ecological summit in tomarang. his insipid little wife is spending the weekend with her mother in their old dump of a house in willow creek. it's late. there's a bottle of finely aged vitality nectar in the walk-in freezer downstairs. tonight is going to be good.

also known as: johannes gets to test @myshunosun and @trillyke's beautiful new creator kits!