#celebrity silhouette goop

[boydykemagicalgirl]

Smoking on my Ex Pack

Mike Schmidt x GN!Reader

Was listening to SZA and smoking and got an idea. No warnings rly… umm some suggestive content, mostly just fluff, reader gets called a hoe by a shitty ex bf, best friend!mike, friends to lovers, pining, it’s cute and I’m proud of it

“Whatever, you’re a hoe anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever, you fuckin bum,” you rolled your eyes as you finished packing another bowl, “delete my number.” You sighed as you hung up, unable to believe that you had wasted nearly an entire year on such a loser.

Your best friend, Mike, sat across from you in your living room, falling backwards with laughter. “I tried to tell you about him, bro.”

“Shut up, dork. I don’t wanna fuckin hear it.”

He over-dramatically wiped his eyes, sitting back up. “I really am sorry though. Breakups are rough.”

You put the bowl to your lips, taking a hit and exhaling before responding, “is it, like, fucked up that I’m not really that sad about it? It’s like, almost a full eleven months with this guy and I don’t even feel like crying. If anything I’m relieved.”

Taking the bowl from you, he nodded, “yeah?”

“Yeah, dude,” you run your hands down your face, “being with him was like being somebody’s fucking mom. Like, we’re fully in our twenties and I have to remind you to wash your fucking ass? Grow up.”

This set Mike laughing hysterically again, “no way he didn’t wash his ass. How come you never shared this with me before?”

“Because I thought that I loved him, and I knew what you’d say.”

“What? That I was right and you should’ve dumped him a long time ago?” He had a smug look on his face as you reached over to snatch the bowl back from him.

“Yeah, exactly, you fuckin dick.” You laughed, too, your shoulders gently shaking as you lifted the bowl to your lips.

“Well, since your relieved, let’s celebrate.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, curious, “what’d you have in mind?”

“I can see if Vanessa can keep Abby for the night, we can get high as shit and watch all of your favorite movies?” He posed it as a question, raising an eyebrow back at you.

You broke into a grin, “I knew there was a reason I kept you around.”

He smiled back at you before getting his phone out and calling Vanessa as you moved to your dvd shelf to pick out what your first watch of the night would be.

~~~~

Nearly five hours had passed, it was now 10:00 pm, and you and Mike hadn’t moved in at least an hour. The two of you were sunken comfortably into the couch, passing a joint he’d rolled between the two of you. The Craft was playing and you were reciting it word for word. Your eyes were glued to the screen as you exhaled smoke and then picked up on the next line, “you know in the old days, if a witch betrayed her coven… they would kill her.”

Unbeknownst to you, Mike’s eyes were glued to your side profile. He was mesmerized with the way the tv light highlighted your silhouette in the darkness. He kept telling himself that it was just because he was high that he was so captivated with you, but he knew that it was more than that; he always felt this way around you. It was like his insides were all soft moldable goop and you could twist them into whatever shape your little heart desired, and you didn’t even know that you were doing it.

Without removing your eyes from the screen, you asked, “wanna order a pizza or something?”

Mike hummed in response and you rolled your eyes, assuming that he was simply ignoring you. You turned your head to face him and nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw his eyes trained on you.

“Mike?” You reached out, snapping in front of his face.

This seemingly broke him out of whatever weed-induced trance that he was in, as he blinked, suddenly sitting up straighter. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“You good, bro? You were completely spaced out. How long were you like that?”

He took the joint from you, his cheeks turning red as he dodged your eyes, “uh, I don’t know.” He let out a nervous chuckle.

“Are you okay?” You scooted closer to him, resting your hand on his arm. You grew more concerned when he seemed to stop breathing at your touch. “Mike? You good?”

He let out a breath, nodding as he tried to appear more relaxed than he felt. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten caught staring at you. “I’m good, just zoned out I guess.”

You let out a nervous chuckle, getting comfortable in your new spot beside him on the already small couch. “Okay, just don’t freak me out like that again. You looked possessed.”

He felt possessed, but he didn’t say that out loud, instead trying to get comfortable again. As he tried to get comfortable again, he couldn’t help but notice how close you were to him. Since when did you being so close make his heart beat like this? He was worried that if you got any closer, you’d hear it. Of course you just had to lean in closer and rest your head on his shoulder.

“Stop hogging the jay, dickhead.” You were whispering now, though you didn’t really know why.

He whispered back, “sorry,” passing it to you. Your fingers brushed and for a second neither of you moved.

After a moment, you took it from him finally, inhaling deeply. As you exhaled you began to cough, laughing through it as Mike rubbed your back, asking if you were okay.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just got weak ass lungs I guess.”

He let out a small laugh at that, taking the joint from you and taking a hit.

You leaned back into him, smiling up at him as you rested your head against his shoulder, “thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here for me, no matter what. I love you,” you said, grabbing the joint back from him, killing it.

There you fucking go again, he couldn’t help but think, twisting around all of his most vital organs, molding them into whatever you felt, and you didn’t even realize that he was putty in your hands. “I love you, too.” You had no idea how much he meant that.

“Awe man,” you muttered under your breath as you looked back at the screen, noticing that the movie was almost over. You’d been so caught up in Mike’s little moment that you’d missed so much of what was arguably one of your top five favorite movies.

“What’s up?” Mike asked, his eyes focused back on you, laced with confusion.

“Movie’s almost over, missed like, some of my favorite parts just now,” you grumbled, upset.

“Oh, sorry,” Mike responded, sounding like he was about to zone out again.

He felt lightheaded, and he was trying to convince himself that it was the weed and not the feeling of you leaned against him, curled up and wrapping both of your arms around one of his. He could smell your shampoo and coffee and weed and everything that made up you and he felt intoxicated by the scent. His head was swimming with thoughts of you. You laughing and smiling, the way your lips wrapped around a blunt, what you’d look like wrapping your lips around him.

You snapped your fingers in front of his face, letting out a laugh that made him smile, still a little daze, “what?”

“You’re staring again,” you giggled, resting your hand on his cheek, more laughter slipping out as you feel it get warm under your palm.

“Am I?” He asked, not taking his eyes off you.

“Yes, doofus,” you said.

You weren’t sure who leaned in first but suddenly you were pressed against him, hands tangling in his curly hair as you pulled on his bottom lip with your teeth, the credits starting in the background.

He pulled away first. “Shit, sorry.”

“For what?” You asked, reaching out for him.

“For kissing you,” he rushed out, “you just broke up with your boyfriend and I’m your best friend and I should be comforting you not taking advantage of you being vulnerable-“

“Mike,” you tried to interject.

“I’ll leave if you want, god I’m such a dumbass-“

“Mike!” You clapped your hand over his mouth. “Shut up for once in your life. Please?” You groaned in disgust as he licked your palm, moving it from his mouth before continuing. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. Unless your apologizing for stopping.”

“Oh?”

You rolled your eyes, “yeah, dipshit. I’ve only been waiting for you to do that for about five years now. And you’re not ‘taking advantage of me.’ I’m not ‘vulnerable.’ Right now I’m mostly just high and horny and a little annoyed at you for being such an idiot, and-“

You were cut off by Mike’s lips crashing into yours, the two of you falling back into the couch as you let out a small squeal. Then you felt it, Mike’s fingers tickling at your hips. “Mike!”

He pulled back, grinning at you like a chesire cat, “I’m an idiot?”

His fingers didn’t let up as you began to let out shriek-like giggles. “Yes, you are,” you forced out between laughs, “now unhand me!”

“Unhand you?” He laughed, his hands resting on your hips, “what are you, a fuckin medieval knight?”

You laughed, too, slowly catching your breath, “don’t make me knee you in the balls.”

He looked down at you, “you wouldn’t dare.”

“Don’t test me, you’re in the perfect spot for me to knee you in the balls right now.” You smirked up at him.

He smiled, moving one hand to rest beside your head as he leaned down. His lips brushed against yours as he spoke, “please don’t knee me in the balls.”

You found yourself whispering again, “what’s in it for me if I don’t?”

Your eyes fluttered shut as he kissed you again.

[a-table-of-fics]

Oddworld, Conar's Ambition, Chapter 2, Draft 1

[[Thanks to Tumblr updating the post length limit, I can finally put the full draft of Chapter 2 in one big post!]]

Slim was silent in line to Slugbite Motel. The chatter was hopefully decent cover; he didn’t need yet more attention after his outburst. If he kept his head down, he’d be fine, and wouldn’t get any more surplus bruises on top of the regular workday bruises.

He heard chatter all around him, gossip from other Slog Huts, Splinterz, and Flub Fuels.

“Management must be pissed, what with -”

“I can’t believe what Skrag did to me! What got into-”

“- hear about FeeCo?”

“We’re gonna be settin’ some electric fences up tomorrow, anyone know about -”

“ – say Abe’s got to Necrum –“

“ -Sligs must be worried if Abe’s getting’ to their place –“

Any talk of Abe was, of course, in whispers. No one believed him to be a terrorist, really, but everyone knew better than to celebrate. Well, everyone but him, apparently, but still. Slig forces were already pretty antsy right now, and there were cameras everywhere. Besides, it was a long day full of more abuse than normal. Everyone was just ready for bed, so to speak. Sure, it was less a bed and more a closet with a dirt floor and next to no elbow room, but it was a place to sleep, nonetheless.

It was almost his turn in the queue. Slim dug in his pouch for his meal ticket. With any luck, he’d get half a Scrabcake with the somewhat edible slop they served here. He presented the ticket to the Slig clerk Jeandis. Jeandis took one look, rolled his eyes from under his visor, and then slammed the counter to his left, deepening the indentation next to the bell. A Mudokon, wearing a light brown cap with deep red stripes and a similarly-colored loincloth, emerged from the back door, carrying a tray of gruel with him.

The tray had no trace of Scrabcakes, sadly, but it did come with a small can of that drink everyone was talking about – Soulstorm Brew. The green can with that nondescript Glukkon’s face on it was an interesting look, at least, and the somewhat sickly Mudokon in those commercials did look exceedingly happy when Director Phleg gave him a crate of the stuff, as if it was sorely-needed medicine. Slim even saw the server longingly stare at the can he had to give him.

“On the house… buddy,” Jeandis said, his line carefully rehearsed. “You saw the commercials; it’s a freebie!”

“Um, okay, thanks.”

Slim took his dinner tray and a plastic spoon over to find a seat that was open; this was no small feat in a Slugbite Motel. Many Mudokons had long since given up on the prospect, instead sitting on the floor against any given wall. He noticed how everyone was given similar cans of Brew, and a lot of the chatter he came across was already shifting from the recent Abe scare to the Oddsend the new drink was.

He walked through the throngs of fellow Scrubs, the smell of Brew filling the air. It was very strange; a tangy aroma that was also somehow familiar. The chatter grew louder and more animated as time went on, and even Slim was feeling a little less tired from the fumes and infectious cheer.

Still, it was a long day, so he still prepared to just sit down and eat. He found a place next to Ben, and dug in. Well, as much as you could dig in with whatever this was. Some said those were fruit chunks mixed in with the goop, some said they were Elum Chubs, but one thing for certain was they were undercooked. It was well known that this was the least of dinner’s concerns, sadly.

Slim took a few shaky scoops, doing his best to forget the words “gag reflex”. He was able to swallow the muck as usual, but he found himself coughing; it felt like he was eating sawdust under the slimy texture!

“Yeah,” Ben said, sympathetically, “Jeandis’ Special really sucks today, doesn’t it?”

“WHO SAID THAT?!” demanded Jeandis, so loud that everyone on the other side of the cafeteria could clearly hear the greenish-yellow Slig. The din died down as a furious head chef stomped over to the wall where the sound came from. There were at least ten cowering Scrubs under his wrathful glare, and they were all pointing grey or green fingers at each other.

“This is more than you deserve, ya miserable Chippunks! You oughta know I could—Eh?”

He was interrupted by frantic whispers from the server Mudokon, who was quick to rush up to his boss. He lowered his fist, slowly, and his face-tentacles sagged.

“…You oughta know…er…I could getcha another can of Brew to…wash it down…?”

Nine out of ten Mudokons were nodding enthusiastically, and the Scrubs at the surrounding tables cheered.

“Shut up and get in line again if you want another round!”

Almost all the Mudokons immediately shot up and sprinted into line. Some of them trembled excitedly while they waited.

Slim had never seen the cafeteria so alive or enthusiastic before. This Soulstorm Brew stuff must have one hell of a kick. If he drank it now, he’d probably be up all night. Best to save this stuff for when he needed it – no need to come to work tired tomorrow.

Besides, if all else failed, he had a bartering tool now.

With this in mind, he tucked the can he had into his pouch. It wouldn’t be the first time he had to sleep with a dry throat; he knew better than to ask Jeandis for anything else to drink.

His body still ached, and it had been a long day on top of that, so while Jeandis was occupied with his sudden fame, Slim quietly ate up the rest of his “meal” and left. With the “first come, first served” policy of getting a room for the night, he was able to get one right by the cafeteria for once. He might even be able to get breakfast tomorrow!

He dug in his pouch for his ID, and a quick scan gave him the room for the night. As the door closed behind him, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the windowless closet. When he did, he could see all kinds of scratchings on the wall. Short complaints about bosses and a variety of tally marks filled most of it, but there were some other things. There was the occasional crude drawing of a bird, which gave Slim nostalgia over something he never experienced. There were conversations between anonymous Mudokons, about the latest gossip, concerns, and anything else. It was comforting; they watched out for each other and kept each other informed even when they didn’t really know each other.

With his nightly reading done, Slim slumped down to the ground. The dirt here was cool, but nothing he wasn’t used to. With any luck, he wouldn’t wake up to Bolamites crawling over him, but that was a problem for future him. Present him just had to be absorbed by the soft earth, and dream of a better workday, one where Abe saved him from this miserable job and blew up the Slog Hut.

It was all he could do, really.

* * *

It wasn’t even five minutes before he felt a cold breeze, and the light of the hallway made him squeeze his eyes shut more before sitting up. A hand went up to shield his vision, but he was still blinded for a moment while he tried to make out the silhouette. A Slig, for sure, but that hardly narrowed it down. The Pants were pretty basic, being two robotic legs attached to a large ball. However, the giveaway was the mask that obscured this particular guard’s face. It was one of the older visors, like some Sligs still wore, with a single long visor. However, this one covered his scalp, forming an ugly black helmet rather than just a scary red visor. Only Conar had that version, but what was he doing here of all places?

Well, it couldn’t be anything good. Slim shuddered, wondering what he’d have to apologize for to get a manager from work to find him in this motel. But… no beating or gunfire came his way. In fact, Conar looked taken aback. He wasn’t aiming his Blunderbuss anywhere in particular, and his head kept turning either way, as if he wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Well, whaddaya know, Slim,” he said, after a moment. “Funny I’d run into you here…”

Slim blinked, lowering his hands, but remaining where he was.

“So, uh... you wanna get outta shoveling Slog crap?”

Slim opened his mouth to answer, but Conar grabbed his arm, so the Scrub’s confused questions were interrupted by his own yelp.

“Time’s up!” Conar said, hearing the chatter die down in the cafeteria. “We’re leavin’!”

“Oh-okay…”

“And you’re gonna shut yer yap! We ain’t supposed to be doing this, you know!”

With that, the two of them silently beat feet away from the hubbub of the mess hall, kicking up a lot of dirt on their way.

The hall separated into two different ways at the end. Conar knew that to the left was the back door he came from, and was going to drag Slim with him. But Slim had other ideas, nearly pulling Conar out of his Pants as he pulled them both to the right.

Conar adjusted his seat so he could run properly again, then struggled to get out of Slim’s grip.

“What the hell?!” he protested, before realization struck, and he quieted down. “The back way’s the otherhall!”

“Where do you think most’f the Sligs are?” Slim harshly whispered. “Seen at least four Mudokons try that, and they never make it to the parking lot!”

“Oh, and the front door’sgonna be much better? Hah!”

“Dunno,” Slim shrugged. “No one’s tried it.”

Conar was about to say something pretty snippy, but he saw they were close to the lobby. The pair stopped just short, and Conar looked ahead. There wasn’t much to see, past the dozens of bored Mudokons waiting in line to be checked in by a very bored Glukkon receptionist, complete with a very bored Slig there to type the guests’ numbers in.

No one was looking their way, so Conar motioned for Slim to follow, and the two of them walked towards the other exit. They made it about halfway through before the Pud looked up.

“Where do ya think you’re goin?!”

“Ah…” Conar started, before regaining his composure. “Y’see, he was volunteered to work overtime tonight! Just came here to pick ‘im up!”

The Glukkon rose to his full height, which would have been impressive if he had shoulder pads or any non-plaid clothing. His assistant also rose, clicking a pen as violently as one could manage. Both Conar and Slim hunched a little, preparing to put their hands over their heads.

The receptionists walked over, sneering. The Mudokons in the queue muttered, some talking about the scene, others complaining about this new delay between them and dinner.

The Glukkon leaned close, so close Conar could almost read the miniscule nametag.

“We have procedures for this, you know! Guests –“ he said the word like most would say “slurg”, “—are to be signed out before leaving the premises!”

Slim blinked. It was hard to tell if Conar did the same.

“Yeah, er…” Conar said, rubbing his head. “Sorry, sir. I thought you wanted ‘im in line, too.”

“And risk the liability?” the receptionist exclaimed. “No, we have registration protocol for a reason!You security and your..your… unprofessionalism!”

His assistant merely gave Conar a look of resignation before marching back to check the Mudokons in.

“If we were to mix the lines like that, our quotas would go kaput! And this is a fine establishment!”

Conar chose not to bring up the dirt floor or the mold-eaten wallpaper. He was already debating whether or not this endeavor was worth it. Zoning out and wondering about that was far easier than listening to this chump.

“…My brothers and I… investors….”

Conar nodded along, thinking about the future, and the riches that would be in store for him. Maybe he could force Zeb to work for him. Of course, something like that would come after a little bit of begging for mercy. But what to spend the well-earned Moolah on? Maybe he’d get himself a nice, classy suit, with premium Slig Pants, armor, and a nice, big gun with all the works…

“…So, I’d really appreciate it if you’d show some class and go to the other desk!”

“Yes, sir!” Conar nodded, moving over to the empty desk. The Glukkon waddled over to the other side, and started controlling some machinery with his shoes.

“Name?”

“Slim.”

Tap, tap, tap.

“…Not found in our records.”

“Can’t you just add ‘im?”

“We just went over this! There are procedures! It will not be as simple as your mind! I can’t just add a Mudokon who is already in the--”

As Conar prepared to sigh, Slim stepped forward.

“Sorry sir,” he said, putting on his best Gluk-pleasing face (that is, a weak smile politely begging for mercy), “He must not’ve read my ID. Do you need my number?”

The receptionist laughed, looking down at Conar while nodding. He kept chuckling at the absurdity of this Slig’s ineptitude as he worked the pedals, searching for Slim by number. He finally stopped adding to Conar’s humiliation, catching his breath while reading what came onto his black-and-white monitor.

“Right, right, you’re all set to leave. Can’t be too careful this day and age, with all those escapees… Anyway, give him a few corporate-approved smacks to keep him in line, would you?”

Connar nodded, a little too hastily. After a moment to ensure no signature or receipt was needed, he turned and poked Slim with his blunderbuss.

“Alright, get movin’. We’re goin’ to work, now!”

Conar couldn’t believe it; he was expecting a tense escape, maybe an amazing shootout. But no; he was walking through the front door, with a Mudokon openly in tow. He even waved at a couple of the guards on his way out. He looked up at Slim, who kept himself hunched and shivering in a clearly practiced manner. The two of them marched in silence for a while, with Conar occasionally tapping the muzzle of his gun against Slim’s back for effect.

“You’re welcome,” Slim finally said, once they were closer to the Slog Huts again, and well out of earshot.

“What, you expectin’ thanks?” Conar asked, laughing at the audacity. “I was the one bustin’ ya out, y’know!”

Slim gave a smug grin, leaning against the wall as he did so.

“Oh, really? You go out the back with a Mudokon like you wanted, they’d be throwing your lead-filled ass into the recycler faster than you can say—”

He tried making that noise he heard many Sligs shout, but it sounded more like his lungs were playing tug-of-war.

“Yeah, well, you seemed pretty comfy in that filthy closet.”

“Ha, yeah, thanks,” Slim laughed, looking around for a moment. “So uh, why didja get me out of there anyway?”

“Right, yeah,” Conar said, clearing his throat. “So, you’re gonna help me take Zeb down a peg. If that Abe guy can take down RuptureFarms, I figure you can help me get his Moolah and ruin ‘im!”

Slim’s smile faded, and he looked at Conar like the Slig grew legs on the spot.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Nah,” Conar shook his head. “This should be easy; we go in, hold ‘im at gunpoint, and—”

“And just how,” Slim asked, leaning forward until he was face to face with Conar, “do you expect us to ‘go in’? Do you even know where his office is?”

Conar’s smug grin faltered.

“Eh--? I…”

“To say nothin’ about the security he’s probably got! You got the news just like I did; they’re scared. They probably got security tighter than Jeandis’ skull there! Didja think any of this—”

He was cut off by a blunderbuss muzzle under his chin. So it was going to be certain death or immediate death, he saw.

“…G-got it. So, what’s the plan, boss?”

[two-sides-halved]

Gem's voice escaped the glowing pink form of light has the silhouette changed from Rose into Gem Steven. He tackled his brother out of the way of danger, fusing in that moment of mutual of care and worry for the others well being. The fusion didn't have time to celebrate as Spinel let out a loud sound from her horn shaped hand, the ground shaking as the bio poison was pumped into the Earth. Steven Squared seeing Garnet was frozen in place as she was having her own epiphany in the moment. He knew from Spinel's speech before that only organic life was affected. So in reaction he created a large bubble shield. Garnet's form returned to normal, and she using her own super speed caught up with Pearl and Amethyst, formed Alexandrite picking up Connie and Greg inside the van to keep them safe from the flood of bio-poison that flooded coming up to Alexandrite's knees, while standing in a large crack that had formed in the Earth because of the rushed pumping of bio-poison. Steven Squared saw the bio-poison start to seep into the Earth causing cracks, and making larger canons of glowing pink goop. He took a deep breath, this was manageable, this was still fixable, there was still an Earth and that meant there's still a chance to save it. Steven Squared had renewed his hope simply because now he was here together. "Alright. People have been evacuated, Dad and Connie are safe, gems have their memories back... All we have to do is stop Spinel before the Earth's core is over cooled and the world ends... no pressure." Steven Squared muttered to himself, only for the injector to explode causing Spinel to fly straight up into the air and random bits of injector to fly every which way, the fusion dodging the the bits and kept his eye on spinel before she landed on her feet springing like she was on a pogo stick. Steven Squared headed toward Spinel, hearing the booming thunder of the rapidly changing weather, seeing the rain poor on his bubble shield, seeing that the bio-poison on the water layed on top like it was a thick oil that wouldn't mix with it. Deep inside the fusion, Human Steven still had a feeling he could talk things through with Spinel, while Gem Steven doubted that it would help especially with all the malice in her speech before. He was happy to be back to normal, but he wished that this was all settled and solved, having the sinking feeling in his gut that it was all his fault that it happened in the first place. (3/3)

@erisdiamas | Continued

Raspberry Tart watched as Steven went outside with Spinel, the gems had fully put their trust him to fix things. The sound of heavy metal music had gained his attention.

Steven and Spinel had passed the van that was rocking back and forth, there was loud heavy metal music playing and through the door that was swaying with the music, long pink curls were moving in large waves as Rose was head banging appreciating the music as a human would. Steven was smiling as he walked with Spinel to the injector, Peridot, and Bismuth confused as to why she was ok to be free now that she remembered who she was, but decided if she wasn't harming Steven in that moment it was best not to call it out, in fact, Bismuth had noticed that Pearl and the others hadn't come out quite yet and went to go see if there was a plan for if this all went up in smoke. Then it was just Steven and Spinel, no other bystander's insight. Spinel looked back at Steven, with a deep breath, "Here we are... Steven, you said that I could have a second chance on Earth right?" "Yea, of course. I know the gems didn't give you the warmest reception, but you do have to remember they need sometime to process you're changing for the better too." He smiled. "Right... but what about after I stop the injector... and you get what you want... how do I know you're not going to reset me again..." She asked. "Well, I did that out of self defense before, and I believe you can change... I know you can turn this around Spinel... and..." He replied, paused calling for Lion again, Spinel stepping back knowing how the Lion would tackle Steven with nothing but love like she had seen him do before. Steven went out to take the rejuvinator out of Lion's mane, the sight of the device in his hands made her tense, she watched him like a hawk assuming that he was going to reset her once this was all over, she went to open her mouth, but Steven continued, "As a show of my faith in you." He extended the device and slammed the rejuvinator over his knee and broke the rejuvinator in two pieces they crackled with energy before fizzling out on the ground. "I'm not going to reset you... you deserve to have a second chance with all your memories to know how much you've grown and changed as a person." He smiled. Spinel stared at him, she almost couldn't believed what she saw, he really wasn't like his mother, he really meant what he had sung up in the garden and that wasn't just some catchy tune to convince her. Rose had finally grown tired from all the headbanging in the van, turning the music off, going to see how Steven was doing after his meal since she was still heavily worried about him from before. She looked over to the gems inside unsure of what they were talking about but seeing Steven was absent from the table, and turned to look out near the injector. her eyes set sights on Spinel, she looked more menacing than the little heart clad form she had been sporting for most of the day. Rose like the gems before had assumed that Spinel had reverted to her old personality, and she wasn't about to let Spinel hurt Steven, she summoned the family sword, Greg unable to stop his reset son from charging out of the van at a fast pace.

[nikkidarks]

Chapter 4 : A prodigious diva. pt2

I felt defeated, obliterated, obstructed... What just happened? What has she done to him, why do I care so much about him? Does it really matter? Only thing that’s really important here... Is getting Jordan back, saving him from her grasp of that deceptive, deranged... Derailed... Monstrosity of a woman. A prodigious proclaimer of my doom. An impudent infantile of a repressed, retrospective, revamped, re.... What is going on... What happened to me.. Why was I acting like that... Eugh... I needed to focus on more important things, like this fucking hole in my abdominal area. It was gaping I couldn’t just go outside like this, My clothes were ruined as well... Drats... The goop has finally taken it’s shape, which was for some reason just a silhouette of me. How lovely, I get to see my miserable self everywhere I go now. I needed to give it a name though.. Hmmm... I was never good with names, so I just kinda, called it Shadow Nikki, I guess? So yeah, Shadow Nikki took us to this old.. Building? it was more of a shack than anything. We just hid there for the time being. I couldn’t go back there... She has full control over Jordan. Not even my powers could hurt him... I couldn’t bring myself to use them for that. I couldn’t bring myself to hurt him... To hurt my Jordan. I didn’t know why has he become such an important thought in my mind... But I loved it. Thinking about him made me smile. Sigh... Anyways, moving on with the story. It finally got dark, and it was kinda calming to be perfectly honest. Though something felt odd, I could hear noises outside, foot steps, rustling in the grass. Someone was coming. I couldn’t fight, I was heavily injured. Luckily, the other me was perfectly fine. I could hear someone asking if anyone was in the shack. But we had to keep quiet. Then I heard my name, they were calling out my name. I should have known that the whole city was gonna know my name by now. I decided that I should just go out. I still have my magic, I am not gonna go into a fist fight with this person. I’ll just strangle them with vines, or impale them on a branch. I got up on my feet, and Shadow Nikki opened the door. It was just an ordinary guy. He seemed... Happy, to see me. What was going on. He started yammering on about how he was looking everywhere for me, and then. He wants to hire me? His company needed a face, a celebrity to represent it, and he wanted it to be me, but why? Why me, I asked him. He simply told me it was because I was an extraordinary character, unique, special. I didn’t know if that last one was an insult or a compliment, but I felt flattered none the less. I accepted his kind offer, and then he drove us off to his, I must say, enormous mansion. It looked like a castle, it was beautiful. He told me that he will introduce me to some of his co-workers, I was OK with that. We walked up the stairs, yes he had stairs leading up to his entrance door, it even had gargoyles around, and fancy angel baby statues. When we got in, the candles lit themselves until the whole entrance room was as bright as the sunlight. Then, “they” arrived. Oh this was gonna be fun, I didn’t even have to talk to them, I just knew it was gonna be fun. These were his co-workers. First one was a muscular, hunky male, bald, had a tank top, a black one, it had a strange symbol on it. Then there was this lustrous woman, her breasts were quite the size, she had wavy red hair, and a perfect hourglass figure, she wore a violet dress, with a Chinese symbol on it, it also revealed one of her legs, she wore black boots with heels. The next one was a slim guy, quite tall, but not too tall, he had a hoodie and glasses on, I could notice a bit of his hair, it was black, smoke was coming out of his sleeves that were too long to be able to see his hand, and then there was the young girl, she had curly brown hair, and a backpack, her dress was pretty stunning for such a young girl, it had bows on it, white bows on a black dress was always a nice touch, I couldn’t see what she wore. These were his co-workers. He decided to introduce me to them, he told them I was the “diva” we were looking for. What? Why me? Eugh... The woman clearly wasn’t fond of me, she was probably jealous, for such a stunning woman, she still wasn’t enough. Shame. The man told me that we are not supposed to tell each other our names, even though everyone knew mine. He took me up to my bedroom, and oh my, was it gorgeous, a gigantic bed, with beautiful velvet curtains. It was amazing, he told me that if I ever needed anything, I could call him. I politely thanked him, as he left the room. I felt like I should so some... “Minor” redecorating. A villainous smirk has grown on my face as I raised my arms and filled the room with roses, violets, thorns roots and vines, all to my liking. It was amazing, as if the room just became alive, it kinda did, but that’s besides the point. I had a good feeling about this. I had an amazing setup for my plan. And oh boy, am I gonna use the living shit out of these guys until I achieve my goal.

                         The end of part 2 chapter 4 : The prodigious diva.

[miss-rosen]

CELEBRATE THE LEGACY OF IRVING PENN WITH “CENTENNIAL” Miss Rosen for Feature Shoot

“Photography is just the present stage of man’s visual history,” Irving Penn (1917-2009) sagely observed, recognizing the infinite possibilities of the human animal to create technology that would advance our ability to document, represent, and re-envision the world. As a master of the form, Penn understood that the only thing that limits us is imagination.

For seven decades he worked, becoming a master of studio photography with the ability to craft pictures of anything he wished. Here was a man who could transform his very first commission for Jell-o pudding into a resounding success, even though, as Penn realized, it was, “a abstract nothing, it’s just a blob of ectoplasm.”

Yet with that formless glob of goop crafted in a laboratory, Penn was able to entice consumers to buy and serve the product en masse. It’s precisely this ability to transcend the particulars that made Penn a master of whatever form he chose to shoot, be in portraits, fashion, still life, food, nudes, or flowers. He understood that the photograph was an invitation to engage, to gaze upon the world without actually having to interact with it.

Through the safety of distance in time and space, Penn asked us to look at the complex and extraordinary beauty of existence in its many forms, whether Miles Davis’ hand, the Asaro Mud Men of New Guinea, or the curious silhouettes of Japanese designer Issey Miyake.

Read the Full Story at Feature Shoot

Photo: Irving Penn, American, Plainfield, New Jersey, 1917–2009, New York. Three Asaro Mud Men, New Guinea, 1970, printed 1976 Platinum-palladium print. Image: 20 1/8 x 19 1/2 in. (51.1 x 49.6    cm.) Sheet: 24 15/16 x 22 1/16 in. (63.3 x 56 cm.) Mount: 26 1/16 x 22 1/16 in. (66.2 x 56 cm.) Overall: 26 1/16 x 22 1/16 in. (66.2 x 56 cm.) Promised Gift of The Irving Penn Foundation IP .154