#aunty brandy

[bunniifangz]

it's not meant to be.

[squirrelstone]

I told myself that if this ever happened I’d make this video and sure enough we got it!

[victorzhuzhakin]

Rest members of Bluey’s family

[yourfavehatesautismspeaks]

Brandy Cattle from Bluey hates Autism Speaks!

[Image Description: Two images set to the background of a flag with three stripes; the upper and lower stripes are both light red, the middle stripe is a darker red. The first picture has Brandy, a drawing of an anthropomorphic red heeler dog with orange fur, in dark orange, light orange, and yellow patterns. On one shoulder, she is carrying a green tote bag. She is smiling and waving at the viewer. The second image has the Autism Speaks logo crossed out with a ‘no’ sign. End Description.]

[almondhunnibunni]

it's a girl🎀

[paldean-ranger-brandy]

(@wingsofachampion) Thank you, aunt Brandy. That human music was super cool! -Tropius

Aw hey glad ya liked it kiddo.

[arealtrashact]

'Why can't Auntie Brandy just have the thing she wants?' 

 'Because it's not meant to be...'

[renegadeguild]

Edible Book Day 2024

the appetizers

A Commonplace Snack by Daemonluna

A collection of tropes and other ephemera, rendered in nori and rice paper. Sewn with a glass sweet potato noodle, ornamented with cilantro and lime.

This is how we roll (bamboo slips) by anonymous

This is the first book I have made since joining Renegade. I didn't think I'd get to make books and eat them too.

The (Not Actually) Matzah Plague Board Book by Noodle and Noodle's Auntie

10 Plagues by Noodle and Noodle's Auntie. Illustration by Noodle and Noodle's Auntie. Writing and Binding by Noodle. Materials: Gluten Free Matzo Substitute, fruit roll ups, fruit by the foot, sour belts, licorice, fruit rolls, sour sticks, cumin, water.

a fluffy breaduation by Sandy Kitty Bindery

i do not regret anything... except maybe the dentist bills ;)

Pancake Scroll by Zhalfirin

This was a lot easier than I had anticipated. A bit bland because I wasn't sure what I'd do the painting with and therefore didn't season the batter. It goes really well with a side of salmon and soy sauce though.

the mains

the iron chef secret ingredient was lasers by Lark

lasers are friends not food.

6/10, at least I chose turkey this year.

The Count of Monte Cristo by Thunder (Dragon's Thunder Press)

This was my first book bind ever. The case is French toast. The 2 signatures are each made of 3 omelet folios, and they're sewn with mozzarella string cheese strands. The end pages are each a slice of prosciutto, and they're pasted in with raspberry fruit syrup. Finally, the titling was done with black icing.

Sandwiches (And Books) Are Beautiful by Velvetwastaken

The ‘book’ ultimately failed to be readable as such due to a betrayal by the onion binding. But it tasted amazing, and thus I think still encapsulated the spirit of edible book day: good books are meant to be devoured.

and of course… … the desserts!

Mistakes were Marbled by anonymous

I baked a strawberry cake with buttercream icing. The buttercream set a bit too quickly for the marbled effect to work, and attempts to fix it caused structural damage, resulting in ... this. I would like half-points for retaining good flavor, despite appearances.

Brandy Snaps by Lottie

Brandy snaps for the pages, strawberry laces for thread. Complete with two weaver’s knots to tie the strawberry laces together

Book Cookies by six

Sadly not fully functional books - the cases are rigid sugar cookies baked into various open forms. The pages are edible wafer paper marked up here and there w/ an edible ink pen and the frosting quite tasty! Experimented with two different sizes and various page configurations. Fed some of them to various Renegade members. There were no fatalities.

Titles are overrated by Zhalfirin

I'm still baffled this turned out the way it did.

It's a delicious little baumkuchen chonker (app. A6 in size and about 6cm thick) cased in chocolate powdered marzipan.

Don't forget to vote for your favorite! And check out last year's winners here.

[babyjakes]

sweet surprise. [blurb.]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | august '23 general requests blurb night

summary | ransom has a surprise encounter with your little niece.

pairing | soft!ransom drysdale x auntie!reader (+ reader's baby!niece)

warnings | SOFT RANSOM IS BACK. just soooo fluffy, like unbearable amounts of fluff hehe. written from reader's pov, but most of it is just ran & da baby <3

word count | 689

requested by @brandycranby | hiiiiii eun ✨💕 for blurb night, maybe we could see a fluff or hurt/comfort + unexpectedly soft!ransom + baby? like a teeny tiny chubby wubby baby 🥺

an | aaaahhhhh i'm so glad you sent in this request brandy bby, i've been DYING to write soft!ran lately and this is just the sweetest idea ever ever, hope you enjoy sweet friend and thank you for the amazing idea!!

You don't hear Ransom as he returns home from work, tossing his bag beside the door with a quiet grumble. As always, he's not in the best mood after spending nearly six hours at his grandfather's, helping the old writer with the logistics of his business. He can't wait to spend time with you, the sunshine that always brightens his day and erases any worries that might be floating around in his mind. He doesn't see you as he looks around the living room, but what he does see catches him off guard. On the floor, across the room, sits a strange-looking contraption— some sort of swing. He lets out a gasp as he sees what's sitting inside: a tiny baby whose big, bright eyes are looking over at him with a darling sense of curiosity.

"Oh my," Ransom hums to himself. He stands frozen for a few moments, looking around the room again. You're nowhere to be found. "Now what are you doing here all alone?" he hums softly, finally building up the courage to start making his way over to the swing.

He stops several feet away, just observing the tiny being. Judging by the sweet pink lettering on her jumper that spells out Mama's Girl, he's able to easily guess the infant's gender. "My goodness," the large man whispers, his face softening as the sweet little girl smiles at the sound of his voice, "you're so tiny. What're you doing here, hmm? Was y/n looking after you this afternoon?"

He sits down cross-legged on the floor, scooting himself up a bit more as the baby sways gently in the swing, clapping her tiny hands together clumsily to show the stranger that she's happy to see him. Ransom bites back a smile, reaching out a hand to brush back the little one's thin tufts of hair. "Hi there, pretty girl," he murmurs, "Are you clappin' for me? That's so nice of you, sweetheart. What a smart girl you are."

The infant claps a few more times, giggling softly as a defeated smile finally crosses the brown-haired man's face. "You're too sweet," he admits, stroking the baby's chubby little cheek. "I wonder where y/n is, hmm? Have you seen her?" he asks comically, his grin widening as the baby just continues to wiggle and smile in the swing. "You wanna come out, sweetheart? C'mere, let me hold you."

His hands are steady and careful as he gently unbuckles her from the swing, being sure to support her neck and head as he lifts her up and brings her to his chest. "Oh my," his voice flutters as she tucks her tiny head against his shoulder, snuggling right up to him. "There you go, angel. I got you," he whispers, stroking her hair as he bounces her gently in his arms.

"Welcome home," you giggle as you enter the doorway to the kitchen, your heart swelling at the sight of the giant man holding the tiny baby so carefully, as if she's the most precious thing in the world.

"Look, there's y/n!" Ransom coos excitedly to the little one, causing her to look over at you and offer you a huge, toothless smile. "I bet she missed you!"

"Looks like you're Uncle Ran, huh?" you joke as you join the two on the floor, rubbing the tiny girl's back as Ransom sways and cradles her. "Never knew you liked babies."

"Me neither," the man chuckles, looking down at your niece with the gentlest smile. "But I think this little one might've changed my mind. Look at how tiny she is. So tiny and precious, aren't you?" he fusses her again, earning a chorus of giggles from the baby as he messes her hair carefully. "How long is she staying?" Ransom asks, looking back up at you. "Can we see her again soon? I'll take off work, Harlen won't mind— we should bring her over to see him! He loves kids."

"Hey, hey, slow down," you laugh, leaning over to kiss the sweet man's forehead as you remind him, "I haven't even told you her name yet."

[drconstellation]

A Dash of Nutmeg

I'm in the middle of preparing my next meta, and while mulling over a problem a had a wtf! moment. More like a "lead balloon" moment, really, where you realize you're looking at one of those glaring anachronisms that the Good Omens AU has plenty of but never makes a big deal of.

Nutmeg. And lemongrass. You know, they get mentioned together in this little passage in the book:

"Come off it. Your lot get ineffable mercy," said Crowley sourly. "Yes? Did you ever visit Gomorrah?" "Sure," said the demon. "There was this great little tavern where you could get these terrific fermented date-palm cocktails with nutmeg and crushed lemongrass-" "I meant afterwards." "Oh."

Nutmeg then turns up in the S2 as part of Aziraphale's magic sleight of hand performance.

The reason it jumped out to me is that nutmeg has played a significant role in the history of the world - it was the center of deal between two countries that you could say became a "sliding door" moment about 500 years ago. And because of that, I knew its origin put it at unlikely odds of being in the right place at the right time in the GO story (but when has that ever stopped anything getting in the way of the story!)

Although we don't know if Sodom and Gomorrah were actually real cities, we know they are supposed to predate the Roman Empire, and that is what matters here. And the matter I'm trying to get to is that the natural origins of nutmeg are from small cluster of islands in the Indonesian archipelago that were a closely guarded secret for centuries. The first nutmeg reached Rome in the first century AD, long after Sodom and Gomorrah would have been razed to oblivion by Sandalphon's smiting efforts. And there was never very much of it. It was always in short supply, and considered precious.

Oh, and its a well known hallucinogenic, if you consume too much of it. Even just a generous amount sprinkled on your Christmas pud can give you a lovely relaxed, floaty feeling...mmmm, or was Aunty Jill a bit heavy-handed with the brandy, I'm not sure...

Lemongrass is also of south-east Asian origin. It likes a hot, damp environment to grow well. I'm not sure that's the kind of place Sodom or Gomorrah was!

So for Crowley to describe a cocktail, of all things, with two exotic, rare ingredients from thousands of miles away in a "time" when the trade routes hadn't quite spread that far...

ugh. My head hurts just thinking about this one.

Did I mention I found a thing that many cultures believed nutmeg could protect you against evil? Right, right...whatever. Go for it, Crowley. You've obviously been into the mind-altering chemicals for millennia anyway.

[spiribia]

there's something aunty brandy wants more than anything as well. but she can't have it, and there's not really anything anyone can do.

[lovely-bunny-lb]

Introducing my Blueysona, Poppy! She’s a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel who was first created in a Picrew. But of course, I fine tuned it to make her more like me and here she is now! As you can see, she likes to wear a plastic tiara and a tutu to look cute! She briefly made her unofficial first appearance as a cameo in BudPixel’s “A Day With Aunty Brandy” (I voiced everyone in that short and you should go check it out!). But here she is now! Hope you enjoy Poppy!

Design Update: I colored her ears so she could look more like an actual Cavalier! Hope you like it!

[ursawastricked]

The Glimmering Pearl

Silco x f!reader Moulin Rouge inspired fan fiction

The Dens Delight, a nightclub, one tucked between the undercut of Zaun and its sister city of Piltover, is the secret delight of the rich and poor of Runeterra. The call of loud swing music, the smell of cheap booze, and the warmth of the dens dancers draw in crowds by the hundreds every night, in attempts to lure them into spending.

You call this place home, it loves you like its daughter, and you take comfort knowing that the people love you just as much. That doesn't change that tonight,,you meet him. The eye of Zayn, the kingpin of the undercut,,and he might just be your ticket out of here.

warnings for fic: Drinking, lewd behavior, night club activity in general

word count: 3,289

total wordcont: 3,289

Silco found little joy in places like this. Despite The Drop's atmosphere of bright lights, loud music, drugs, thugs, and alcohol all surrounding him in most of his day to day life, he at least had the luxury of it being muted beneath his office. It didn't bite him like it did here. The sickeningly intense stretch of “rose” perfume stung his nose, and the booze sprinkled about on the floor and patrons stung the rest of his senses as he fought his way through the sea of under city patrons that flocked to places such as this when they needed to feel worth something.

Perhaps it wasn't his scene, but for Finn it was like home ground, which would be the only reason Silco had crawled here to begin with. With him he dragged some extra hands, but found that they too had quickly been washed away in a sea of drunkards, or pulled away by half clothes workers, each one's skirt a differnt brightly colored pattern to draw the attention of whomever had money to spend.

That is what made this place so aggravating. It wasn't like the brothels, those at least held some class in Silcos opinion. At places like Babbettes, attention was requested, then provided, it wasn't demanded, it did not result from a sudden “mis-step” that landed a women lewdly in your lap, or sneaking hands of a pretty face taking inappropriate hold on someone to weasel them into spending hard earned coin. He didn't worry about randomly spilling cheap beer on his silk vest, nor did he have to worry about them then offering to take it off for him. Simply put, he wasn't having fun. He wasn't enjoying the festivity filled floor below, packed not only with thousands of Pilties, desperate for depravity despite them sharing the house with Aunties who too had ventured here for that reason. He less enjoyed that now as he finally found sanctuary in a box seat above, that he could see Sevika, sitting back in a plush armchair, a lady hiking up her peacock colored skirt in his muscles lap, and as she would put it “Having friendly conversation”.

He grumbled lightly, offering a light from Finn as he sat finally. He accepted the silent offer, tucking a cigar between his lips and allowing the flames to lick at the end of the expense tobacco roll. He closed his eyes, another failed attempt to drown out the numbing sound of the ballroom below, as he inhaled a thick cloud of smog into his lungs. He held it for a moment of ease, letting it burn his throat and maybe even seer away the dreadful taste of whatever that wicked bartender considered ‘top shelf brandy’, before he willed himself to exhale the black smoke and let it ribbon away into the ceiling above. His good eye followed its path lazily, finding it curling around a collection of ropes and scaffolding tucked above the box seats and further toward what appeared to be the old placement of a chandelier. He wondered what monster had decided removing such a piece would make this palace look better, clearly a chandelier would vastly improve the facade of class in a place like this, but who was he to judge interior design. He was sure the random placement of ropes and wood made for a much better design choice, not to mention against an old classically crafted glass ceiling. Indeed, why would a chandelier be a valuable piece to keep. 

 His discomfort was quickly caught by Finn, who smirked at the rare entermainted of an uncomfortable and out of control Silco,“Is it too much for you, old man?" he taunted, flicking closed his lighter before snapping it open again, keeping in time with the current music. “I suppose after so many years, the sound of fun can be too much to bear.” he continued, leaning over the ledge and watching as workers danced about with unknowing citizens, unaware of how much each of those stolen kisses would cost them. “Perhaps you, Finn, confuse mindless noise for entertainment..” Silco snarled back, low, controlled. He tapped the ashes of his cigar into a provided bowl on the small table they were given.Finn only offered him a chuckle in response, shrugging off the large gold coat he had worn as he approched and placed himself into the opposite chair of Silco. “Mindless noise? Do you not hear the laughter? The singing of the entertainers?’ “The drunken howls, the croud whistles at the passing waitress, the belch of vomiting patrons…” Silco added bitterly, taking another deep breath of his chosen grounding tool tonight. Finn only stared back, aggravated quickly by the negativity. But to Silco, truth came in positives and negatives, if one side was to be ignored, then you were missing the picture. In this case, missing the picture of a loud, over decorated, overrated, and overly fancy club, one that looked pretty to hide the shady work it openly offered. The two watched each other's expression for a long moment, as two predators would in a territorial competition, who could remain standing their ground longer. But it was Finn who broke the silence first, rolling his hand over the table as he reached for his empty glass and held it up in signal to the standing by server. “I must admit, I had hoped for at least a little down time with you, Silco. Perhaps a meeting that doesn't require a rehearsed debate over the constant work and stress of running our little empire,” he began, maintaining their locked gaze as the server approached and poured a generous amount of amber liquid into Finn's waiting glass. He gestured for Silco to have his glass filled as well, before dragging it to his lips and letting it pass over his tongue during the pause in speaking.

“My empire..you still find yourself in the habit of forgetting where you come from. Where I came from.” Silco sneered, not given the courtesy of a glance to the server as they filled his glass and retreated back behind the curtain.

“Again with the age debate, ‘remember our lives before’, ‘the mines from which we came’, It is always your age that defends your power Silco..and I had just told you, I had hoped for down time with you.” Finn reminded him, placing down his glass with a soft ‘tink’.

Silco rolled his eyes slowly, taking his own glass and leaning back in the seat he had. He felt much more at ease then he would like to admit when the liquor passed his scared lip and spread over his tongue. He was elated to taste actual brandy, not the gasoline he had been fed not thirty minutes ago when he had first arrived. The flavor was rich, a velvety, warm taste, the whispers of the imported fruits it was made with still ghosted into each drop as he swallowed and let the liquid warm his belly, further drawing him into a more comforting position in this prison he found himself in. Embarrassingly enough, it had tamed him enough to cease the fight against Finn and just relax into his seat.

“Besides, the show tonight is one I think is best enjoyed when you have only her to focus on.” Finn cooed, reclining and gazing off into the crowd below. Silco took another blissful sip, considering the words Finn had said without much worry. Yes, this place was well known for its exotic performances, dancers, singers, usually half clothed like the rest of them. But now, with a drink in his hands, smoke in his lungs, and the sound of music slowing down, he welcomed whatever performance was interesting enough to catch Finn's attention as often as it seemed too. Let the show begin,

“Im sure.” he hummed, in reply, closing his eyes and clutching to the comfort of good brandy and an expensive cigar.

Another thirty minutes passed, Sevika arriving back beside Silco, dragging along the peacock lady and sitting her comfortably on her knee as she resumed her guard over the kingpin. He offered her a nod of acknowledgment, earning a satisfied nod back from her, enough of one that he had noticed the smudge of lipstick across her cheek and further down her neck.

He lifted his glass back to his lips before he saw the light dim, and following it immediately was the hush of the loud music, the hush of patrons and the awful howls of laughing girls. He followed all their gaze, to the lowering figure from the ceiling. Above the world, like a bird descending, a swing lowered just level with the box seats where the eye of zaun had found himself. Perched on the seat was a figure, one he had not quite expected. You. You sat above the crowd, your eyes closed tentatively as you held tight to the ropes connected to your seat. You held your breath, still finding your breath a bit constricted by the tight costume they had pulled you into tonight. It was a torturous thing, tight, stiff with what must have been a thousand false pearls, expertly patterned to trace your figure and accentuate your curves. You cross your legs expertly, earning a whistle from below and giving you a little boost of confidence. You straighten your back, take in a deep breath and start your usual performance.The silence breaks with a silk like voice, one Silco didn't expect as the swing slowly sways, and allows for the limited light to shimmer off the pearls stitched to your costume. His gaze locked first onto the tall black heel you wore, but slowly trailed up long legs, to the start of your costume just above your hip, and dragging slowly to your shoulders. But what broke the facade of his disinterest was when you suddenly dip your head back, catching his gaze in yours and revealing the face behind the vision he had been blessed with, as you reached out a hand toward the booth, and the swing slowly began to swing, descending down into the crowd below. His heart raced at the limited eye contact, and he found himself now like Finn, leaned closer to the edge of the box, chasing you to keep your figure in his sights as the music swelled slowly around the hall, reaching its peak when your heel clicked too the floor and you stood at the center of it all. The center of a once chaotic hell scape, had ceased and created a pool from which this divine thing could fully shine, and he was enraptured. This was entertainment indeed. Especially as your voice rang through the sound and your feet followed a practiced little prance around the crowd grabbing playfully at random from time to time and dragging them into your next little move before abandoning them in favor of another. You held the entire hall in the palm of your hand, those not too awestruck to speak offering your whistles, howls, and the occasional help in the song. You chuckle as you allow for a lucky customer to dip your weight, teasingly snatching his cap and placing it on your head for safe keeping. You leave his head spinning and Silco finds a light smile on his scarred lip as you step away, leaving everyone around you chasing your touch, one he imagined was heavenly based on how the other visitors clamored for a chance at it. He rested his glass against his lips as you retreated back to your swing, standing on it with a tight grip on the flimsy ropes before it lifted you again in the air. “Quite the show isn't it, Silco?” Finn murrmered on, stealing a peak at how Silco had become so focused after spitting so much distaine for this place earlier. Silco chuckled lightly, feeling just as relaxed as Finn insisted he be tonight, humming a quick “mhm”, and inhaling a deep breath of smoke. You smiled teasingly at the patrons that flooded where you once stood moments ago, spreading your stance a little for balance as you began to lean back and let the swing move carefree above them, using enough force so that the trajectory of it had began to circle and allow you a to give those in the boxes a bit of a closer look as you. Janna, this always felt so good, yes the height was a little frightening, but the way the people flocked to you, around you, starved for any glimmer of your attention, you felt like a god among them. But as always, the best part of a performance was engaging the audience, and you had been looking out all night for people to play with. About an hour ago you had been doing one final walk around before being dressed, when your eyes caught something particularly interesting moving through the club. A familiar Burgundy colored coat that swept over the dance floor and up the stairs into Finn's box. He was a regular, one you had a few run-ins with in the past, the occasional dance, invitations to his bed after a paid for “chat”, all of which you had politely declined. It wasn't in your best interest to leave the club with patrons after all, you were higher class then that, The Glimmering Pearl of the undercity. But this not so mystery guest, he was more your interest tonight. A ‘big catch’ as your den mother would put it. So you pulled your swing back, aiming directly for that box, and swinging back and propelling yourself toward the balcony. You hooked your legs over the lip of the ledge, sitting yourself nice and pretty in front of a very startled Eye of Zaun. He stared, dumfounded, the snicker of his accompanying crowd. How delightful, the king of the undercity, positively flustered at your sudden appearance. You could swear there was a hint of pink appearing across his skin, through it could just be the lights. You offer him a sly smile, tilting your head and kicking a foot up to rest the tip of your heel just under his jawline. He stared forward, completely enchanted as the satin of your shoe dragged against his skin, causing him to involuntarily lean forward into it. His eyes met yours finally, half lidded, hazey with a building desire as your heel was now placed on his shoulder. It was an easy transition to slip off the ledge slightly, and push more of your weight into his chair as you rested your one leg other his shoulder and leaned close enough to truly see if it was the lighting that resulted in that exquisite rosey color in his cheeks..it was to your excitement, not a trick of the light.  “Good evening, I do hope I didn’t startle you” You hummed, drawing your hand to your chest dramatically, feigning apologetic.Silcos good eye caught the movement effortlessly, taking a moment to admire how the lace of your gloves looked against your skin tone. Only then did he flick his mismatched gaze to yours, ignoring that his face was warmer then he would have liked. You looked into the infamous gaze, finding yourself a bit frozen when the burning orb of his bad eye focused itself on you, a gaze that had often resulted in the blood-spill of maybe thousands. It made you nervous, but quickly you tried to psyche yourself back up, back to flirting, maybe earn a little favor from the royal head of the undercity. “I can’t say I mind,” he replied, training his gaze on you before putting his half finished cigar to his cracked lip, maintaining eye contact as he took a long inhale. Despite your expertise in this, the game of flirtation, you held your breath. It was caught in your throat like you were preparing for something that wasn't coming, and you weren't able to hide it before he had seen it. The roll in his  mouth escaped its hold, and you failed to keep your eyes seedy, as they had now locked on his mouth. Silco cracked a half smirk, titling his head back to exhale the long cloud of smog from his lungs. It was an offered opening, one you hastily took to breath and return to your usual practice routine. You were able to bring back your coy smile, and bring your hands to his tie. You played with it between your fingers, as you expected it was fine silk. With a little smirk, you went with your usual game, loosening it before pulling it away from his throat. You waved it in front of his face,“I expect that back Madame,” he hummed, catching Finn's far too satisfied smirk in the corner of his eye. You giggle lightly, “Well,” as you drag the fabric over your chest, causing Silco to squirm lightly in his seat beneath you. Far more in your element now that you had an in, you tuck the scarf into your cleavage and push your weight back onto the ledge, “I expect i will be seeing you again then.” You tease, watching the hint of challenge in his good eye as you turn and give Finn a fast wink of acknowlagment, waving a little goodbye before you were back on your swing, being pulled back by gravity far away from the Eye of Zaun. As you vanish and drag the warmth in his lap away, Silco gives a disappointed sigh, watching you fly off with his scarf..He breathed in the last breath of his dying cigar before tapping it out in the ashtray. To his left, he can see Finn's stupid smirk still plastered on his artifical jaw.

“How much did it cost you?” Silco asked, refusing to give him anymore for the question, he didn't plan to disrupt his viewing experience just to address a constant thorn in his side. “Not a single coin.” Finn purred, leaning forward to follow you in time with Silco. Silcos raised his eyebrows lightly, trying to hide it, fruitlessly. It wasn't a feeling he would have admitted too, the burning feeling igniting deep in his chest, in the pit of his stomach, the top of the flames licking at his heart. You land again on the ground floor, enveloped almost immediately by the crowd of waiting fans, allowing light touches, lifts, and dips as you make your way to the stage. You strut, trying to keep up your sultry energy, lips softly pursed, eyes lidded, but you struggle as you fight away the growing heat in your cheeks, you try to convince yourself it's all the action. As you huff in a deep breath, tiptoeing up the stairs and clicking your heels loudly on the stage with a loud hollar into the crowd. Silco feels a hum deep in his chest as the sound echoes into him, and his pupils dilate. You give a few playful steps back, up the further stage steps into the feather like bed at the back with a deep call of your final verse. You lay down your weight, flirtatiously flicking your leg over. “MMMwah!” You call, with a dramatic kiss thrown into the crowd. You pull out your stolen scarf from your cleavage, waving it playfully toward Silco, whom you are pleased to see, just as focused as before. You feel the burn in your cheeks win, just as the curtains flutter closed in front of you, and you feel the heat finally reach you, the heat of that single burning eye that now knows about you. Your way out of here.

Yippie! my first big fic!

I really enjoyed working on this one, and I hope to write a part two if it goes well. 

If you enjoy for would like more please lmk, I'm finding for pretty Silco content 

[beikonsims]

While still not convinced about fatherhood, Dustin wasn't heartless and tried to be more involved with Juliette and her pregnancy. Brandi didn't raise a jackass and after growing up as a caring older brother, Dustin actually had some decent knowledge in taking care of an expecting woman.

While Juliette was resting, he thought it would be a good idea to work on his "career alibi" in case the Capps start sniffing around. Thanks to his mother's friendships, he could sweet-talk auntie Dina and convince her to get him involved with his husband. He didn't want to actually work for Malcolm, but having THE Landgraab vouch for him would be ideal for keeping Hermia quiet.