#sliced tiger pebbles

[elsieflowers]

Vancouver 3/4 Bath Bathroom - mid-sized transitional 3/4 brown tile and porcelain tile bathroom idea with an undermount sink, shaker cabinets, brown cabinets, quartz countertops, a two-piece toilet and beige walls

[warrior-cats-rewritten]

The Ancient Clans

No, not the ones run by Thunderstar and the like. I mean the mythical ones! The Great Clans.

So, in WCR The Great Clans are still big cats, and associated with the seasons. Spring the Lion, Summer the Leopard, Autumn the Tiger, and Winter the Skeletal Cat.

They are also more like our own mythical creatures, which are going to be highlighted later on.

Lionclan was in a budding, flowering forest, always in perpetual newleaf. Their manes were literally made of sunshine, and glow with warmth, capable of growing plants wherever they wanted, as well as being so connectedto the sun they they slept in the trees, their bodies being so weightless that they could climb around in them without breaking a twig. They are thought of as having very light pelts with golden colourpoints. They are also thought to have given their mane or colourpoints to modern day cats.

Tigerclan's stripes were literally made of shadow, and they could move into the darkness completely, using shadows to travel around and hunt. They lived in an autumn forest and were known to also have strong claws, capable of slicing through light itself. Long claws and tabby stripes are associated with Tigerclan.

Leopards are though to have pretty pebbles kept in their thick fur, creating the image of spots, eventually blocking out the sun so much that it would create real spots in their "modern day descendants", cats. It also helped weigh them down when they would swim, their home being at the bottom of a hidden cave through the river. They are not thought to have had tails, either. They were known as having long, strong legs for running and swimming, which was good, as their home river was in extremely hot grasslands, in perpetual summer. Spotted, mottled fur is associated with them, as well as an affinity for diving.

The last of these is Frozenclan. They are said to have been the most humble of the Great Clans. Having named themselves after their permanently frozen hunting grounds rather than what they were. But due to this, no one knows WHAT they were. Some say they were pure white cats, with bodies made of snow to blend in. Some say they were pure black, and the way they moved confused prey too much for it to run. Some say they had huge, mighty paws that dispersed enough weight that they did not leave paw prints in the snow. They were also known to treat the bones of their prey with care, putting them in the river after being picked clean to be reborn. Hence, the massive Skeleton Cat, Winter.

[scriveyner]

chase forever down 15/31

chase forever down | 15/31 | bungou stray dogs | 👿🐯 / sskk | #smarch 🔞| ~2100 words

Atsushi’s head bounced against the concrete once, and he uncrossed his eyes. He’d been thrown half a block easily, and managed to rebound off the side of a building only to get hit midair with an extraordinarily large piece of rubble that he very luckily wasn’t pinned by. He rubbed his palm over his eyes once, frowned at the blood on his hand, and when a shadow cut over him, he squinted up at Akutagawa.

“Whoa,” he said. “Hit my head hard enough to hallucinate Akutagawa.”

Continue on AO3 or:

A second piece of rubble came flying their way, and Rashomon rippled from Akutagawa’s coat, slicing the concrete slab right in half without moving. The rush of debris flying past sent the hem of his coat fluttering, and blasted a fresh coat of concrete dust over Atsushi.

Akutagawa’s heel landed on Atsushi’s shoulder, pinning him back to the ground. “Who is a hallucination?” he asked, leaning in, eyes glinting dangerously.

Atsushi blinked up at him, sneezing dust from his lungs. “Hey, I hit my head,” he complained, and Akutagawa put his weight on Atsushi’s shoulder for a full moment longer before relenting. Atsushi crawled to his feet, sneezed again, and leaned over, scrubbing both of his hands through his hair, shaking as much grime free as he could. “What are you even doing here? You said you would be out of town for the rest of the month.”

Akutagawa’s mouth ticked up, but Atsushi held up a finger before he could speak. “Don’t say your schedule is none of my concern.”

“Tch.”

There was angry rumbling from the end of the street. “Hold that thought,” Atsushi said, crouched and prepared to use his tiger speed to return to the fray. “I was in the middle of something.”

=====

With the rogue ability user subdued, Atsushi stood at Dazai’s elbow, a grey shadow coated in grime and dust. Dazai was attempting to carry on a conversation with Kunikida but he kept darting glances at Atsushi and snickering, and it was beginning to get old.

“Atsushi, you should probably go clean up, because Dazai sounds like a stuck engine,” Kunikida sighed. “We’ve got this from here, thank you for your assistance today.”

Atsushi opened his mouth to speak, and instead sneezed more grey dust.

Dazai made a sputtering noise. He quickly turned away and covered his mouth, shoulders shaking.

“Thank you, Kunikida-san,” Atsushi said, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. “I’ll get cleaned up and meet you back at the office.” Dazai let out another squeak of suppressed laughter, and they both looked at him.

“It’s going to take a hose to get Atsushi-kun clean,” Dazai sniffed, wiping a tear from his eye.

Kunikida rolled his eyes, and Atsushi scraped at the grime on his forearm with a fingernail and didn’t entirely make it all the way down to skin. “Ugh. Dazai-san’s not wrong.”

“Fine,” Kunikida said, harassed enough as it was. “Please don’t drag that level of filth into the office, Atsushi. Your report can wait until the morning.”

Atsushi gave a quick bow to Kunikida and Dazai and jogged off, intending to fetch some clean clothes from his dorm and hit the baths. Akutagawa was lingering in the shadows of the alley just past the debris Rashomon had destroyed, leaning against the wall with his arms folded. “Guess I didn’t hallucinate you after all,” Atsushi said, amused, skipping past the Rashomon warning strike without breaking stride.

Akutagawa tilted his head and gave Atsushi a once-over. His shirt and pants were in tatters and he was barefoot, covered in a solid layer of grime and dirt with dried blood caked in his hair and face.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Atsushi said.

“You look like the human embodiment of a full dustpan.”

“That. I didn’t want to hear that.”

“Or maybe you’ve taken to rolling around in gravel. Does it feel good to pick tiny sharp pebbles out of your skin?”

“Are you done?”

Akutagawa smirked. “It is four months too early to dress as the ghost of a paperboy.”

Atsushi walked right past Akutagawa, and he swung around to fall into step with Atsushi, clearly still amused by the situation. “You were supposed to be gone for the week,” Atsushi accused, and Akutagawa shrugged loosely, hands folded into the pockets of his well-worn trench coat.

“Our jobs take us in strange directions sometimes. This one ended not a moment too soon, for I got to witness…” he gestured with his head, “whatever this is.”

“Look, I am going to go home and get some clean clothes and then spend six hours in the bath scrubbing my skin raw. If you want to continue insulting me it’ll have to be over dinner.”

Akutagawa gave a dry chuckle. “Or you could accompany me home to my private bath, and I could insult you while you scrub your skin raw, and maybe even accommodate a few orgasms.” Atsushi shoved him in the shoulder with his palm, and Akutagawa shrugged again. “Merely a suggestion.”

“You missed me.”

“Perhaps a little.”

Atsushi folded his arms behind his head, elbows in the air. “Well, I suppose. Maybe if there’s some food ordered out in the mix there, somewhere.” He grinned, the shredded remnant of his belt twitching behind him as he followed Akutagawa home.

=====

Atsushi rinsed out his hair again with the sprayer and groaned, watching the greyish water rinse down the drain. He felt rather like a damp rag at this point and looked up when Akutagawa opened the door to the bathroom wearing nothing but a loose pair of pants. “Still at it, weretiger?”

“I will never be clean again,” Atsushi said sullenly, spraying water through his hair once more. The bathroom wasn’t really that big, so Akutagawa scooted around him and perched on the edge of the tub, watching Atsushi spray water down his arms and scrub at them with a fresh washcloth. He was almost back to a human color at this point, but there was still grime on his back and shoulders that was clearly out of reach.

Akutagawa sighed. “Oh, come here, weretiger,” he said, picking up a clean washcloth from the pile and starting to work on his back. Atsushi froze at the contact but then relaxed into it, tilting his head forward as Akutagawa scrubbed the back of his neck. “Honestly, you are a mess.”

Despite the firmness of the scrubbing, Akutagawa’s actual touch was soft. Atsushi rinsed more grime out of his hair and handed the sprayer back, for Akutagawa to rinse him off. “Thanks,” Atsushi said, ducking his head again as Akutagawa sprayed from the top down.

“Well, I can hardly have you tracking all this dirt into my bed,” Akutagawa hummed. He leaned forward, hooking his arm over Atsushi’s shoulder and pulling him close. “I did miss you, though,” he murmured against the back of Atsushi’s neck. “Atsushi.”

A little tremor ran up Atsushi’s spine. “We have to be careful,” he said, Akutagawa breath hot even on his water-warm skin. “Right?”

“It’s been weeks,” Akutagawa nuzzled over his shoulder. “Since I’ve tasted your blood fresh and hot. Indulge me?”

Atsushi shuddered fully now, Akutagawa’s voice and touch waking every inch of him. He tilted his head and let out a small moan when Akutagawa bit him. It was bliss, it always was—but something about this felt like more, and he couldn’t put his finger on it even as his cock filled out against his thigh.

“Akutagawa,” he murmured, and Akutagawa lifted his head, running his tongue along the fresh puncture marks, and looked down Atsushi’s chest, resting his chin on his shoulder.

“Hard?” he teased, wrapping his other arm around Atsushi’s belly, pressing his palm flat.

Atsushi reached back, catching the back of Akutagawa’s head and leaning his own against Akutagawa’s shoulder, exposing the front of his throat entirely. “You bit me before we started,” he said, scratching his fingers through Akutagawa’s hair. “Planning to fuck me in the bath?”

“Not exactly.” Akutagawa pressed a teasing kiss to Atsushi’s damp skin. “I intend to let you stew a while.”

Atsushi whined, and Akutagawa untangled himself, shoving Atsushi forward with a hand so that he could stand. “Do not touch yourself,” he ordered, and Atsushi whined again, louder. “Soak. I will see you shortly.”

The bathroom door closed behind him, and Atsushi stuck his tongue out at it, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck and shuddering. “Dick,” he muttered, more affectionately than not, and ran the sprayer through his hair again.

=====

Akutagawa was lying naked atop the covers and reading a book when Atsushi stopped in the door to the bedroom. He truly hesitated, as he wasn’t certain he’d ever seen Akutagawa lounging around fully nude before. Akutagawa raised his eyes to the door, eyebrow cocked, and Atsushi continued to linger, holding the towel closed over his hips as he took in the sight laid out before him.

“Don’t ask if I like what I see,” Atsushi said, elbow against the doorframe, and Akutagawa snorted and closed his book.

“Come here,” Akutagawa said, and Atsushi let his towel drop in the doorway, crawling onto the bed and atop Akutagawa, leaning down and in to kiss. God, this felt too good, like it was the only place he was ever meant to be. He straddled Akutagawa’s hips and let his cock drag over his belly.

“Hm,” Akutagawa said, thumb pressed into Atsushi’s thigh as he looked up at him, skin flushed and damp. “You are quite the gorgeous beast when you’re clean, weretiger.” Atsushi flushed red despite himself, and Akutagawa wet his lips, running his eyes over Atsushi’s form slow and deliberate. “All mine, to devour as I please.”

Atsushi leaned over him, drawing Akutagawa’s face up with both hands to kill him again, slow and luxurious. “I want to ride you,’ he murmured, and Akutagawa licked up into his mouth. “Prepped in the bath.”

“Oh?” Akutagawa’s hand slid back over Atsushi’s thigh, cupping his ass. Atsushi maintained eye contact as Akutagawa slipped two fingers in, finding him soft and ready. “My, my.” Akutagawa curled his fingers and Atsushi shuddered and tilted his head back, lips parting.

Atsushi didn’t require too much prompting to shift back, he caught Akutagawa’s cock and held it against himself until he could force the head in. He sighed out a noise of sheer pleasure, sliding down the entire length without much effort until he was seated astride Akutagawa.

Akutagawa’s chest heaved under his hand, and Atsushi opened his eyes finally, meeting Akutagawa’s glimmering grey ones. He wet his lips, braced his hands, and lifted his hips, rocking forward and starting to move himself.

It was good like this, the burn in his legs bright as he rocked himself back and forth. Akutagawa’s cock scraped right over the spot that set his nerves on fire, and Atsushi pushed his hand through his damp hair, back arched. Akutagawa’s fingers traced up his thigh to where the heat was gathering between his legs, his cock bouncing as he moved.

Atsushi shifted his weight forward and Akutagawa stroked him, circled the head with his thumb but kept his eyes on Atsushi. “Going to stop just like that?”

“You gonna fuck me instead?” Atsushi asked through panted breaths. “I can see it in your eyes, you want to.”

Akutagawa’s fangs were protruding, just a little, pressed into his bottom lip. “You’re doing such a good job of it though,” he murmured, stroking Atsushi’s thigh. “But if you insist…”

He reached his arms over his head, arching his back and pulling the top sheet free. Atsushi wobbled as Akutagawa rolled them both and he landed awkwardly, Akutagawa slipping out—but then crimson energy crackled through the cloth and Rashomon parted Atsushi’s legs, looping tight around his thighs and binding his legs open wide, lifting his hips to the best angle.

“Shit,” Atsushi gasped, scrambling for purchase.

“Better hold onto something,” Akutagawa purred from between his legs. Atsushi’s flailing hands found the headboard, his head falling into the space between the pillows as Akutagawa’s cock finally slid home.

=====

“Ugh,” Atsushi unstuck his face from Akutagawa’s side. “Gonna need another bath.”

Akutagawa’s face was buried in the sheets. “You were the one who wanted to get fucked,” he pointed out and grunted in annoyance when Atsushi poked him just below the ribs. A tiny, angry Rashomon head snapped at his finger. Atsushi flicked it away.

“Come take a bath with me,” Atsushi said.

“No.”

He nuzzled Akutagawa’s side. “Once we get cleaned up I’ll suck your dick.”

Akutagawa let out a long wheeze of an exhale, and then said, clearly harassed, “five minutes.”

Atsushi blew a raspberry against his side and Rashomon managed to nick his ear before he ducked; he laughed anyway and rolled out of the bed, leaving Akutagawa to groan and sit up and, begrudgingly, follow him back to the bath.

<< Chapter 14 ||| Start ||| Chapter 16 >>

[kisskissjk]

What are BTS energies like ?

thanks for the ask! im gonna describe them like an aesthetic and then give a small description

jin-a water fountain, crisp spring air, cherry blossoms, orange slices, sweet tea

he’s very refreshing and open minded. he’s like a cute, shy, nerd.

yoongi-the smell of money, exotic plants, tiaras, a french kiss

“i’ve done it all” reminds me of a teenage older brother

jhope-stone wall, penguins, rain boots, muddy sneakers, the smell of nail polish

he’s closed off at first but once his inner child trusts you, he’s very excitable and loves talking bringing up random things. random and weird.

namjoon-golden retriever, posh british accent, humidity after a shower, grapevines

namjoon is a natural mentor. he instantly got me to relax in his presence. knows people and i would say psychology really well.

jimin-glitter, a pirate, ray of sunshine, singing in the shower

he’s a good best friend, loves to ramble, like a cute younger sibling

taehyung-warm soup, a tiger, fresh cut grass

he’s playful and tries to come across as cute but he has a fierceness to him. trickster.

jungkook-dawn soap, clean blankets, pebbles, a rain shower

he’s intense and affectionate

take NOTHING i say negatively. i love bts more than anything.

[thereaderstea]

hybrid bts week

This week The Reader’s Tea celebrates the summer solstice! A time when the Sun King is at the apex of her life-giving power. She provides protection, healing, empowerment, revitalization, and inspiration—and there’s nothing more healing than the companionship of a hybrid. From head pats to warm praises, guarding to scenting, owned to independent, these hybrids have found a taste of warmth, of love, and they’re determined not to slip back into the cold Dark.

Yet, with the Sun King’s climax comes the whisper, a promise: the Darkness shall return...

Monday, the Day of the Moon

Out of the Woods by @angelicyoongie ➵knj x reader | fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, smut | hybrid au | 3 pt. | 26.7k  ➵wolf!namjoon, human!reader ➵Your best friend, Jihyo, brought you to the cabin in the woods for some much needed bonding time and sunlight. Your inspiration (and bad luck) brought you to a wolf who may kill you...or care for you.

1st cup of Tea || 2nd cup of Tea || 3rd cup of Tea

Tuesday, the Day of War

Don’t Care If It Hurts by @hollyhomburg | The Reader’s Tea ➵pjm x reader | fluff, angst, smut | mafia au, hybrid au, bodyguard au | series | 95.6k ➵dog!jimin, bodyguard!jimin, human!reader, human!namjoon, brother!namjoon ➵With the threat of a gang war on the horizon, your older brother and the leader of Seoul’s largest gang buys you a guard hybrid. Park Jimin, a reigning champion of the underground fighting rings, is your new bodyguard, and he’s determined to do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if it hurts him.

Wednesday, the Day of Knowledge

desolate by angelicyoongie | The Reader’s Tea ➵myg x reader | fluff, angst, smut | tsundere | hybrid au | series | 64.5k ➵cat!yoongi, human!reader ➵If you had known your newly adopted cat was a grumpy hybrid, you wouldn’t have adopted him.

Thursday, the Day of Thunder and Lightning

Abundance by angelicyoongie ➵ot7 x reader | fluff, angst, smut | e2l, s2l | hybrid au | series | ongoing ➵hamster!seokjin, cat!yoongi, dog!hoseok, wolf!namjoon, cat!jimin, fox!taehyung, bunny!jungkook, human!mc ➵When you adopt not one but three packs of hybrids, your house doesn’t feel lonely nor cold anymore, but the tension is enough to make sparks and fists fly.

☕ for Abundance I-XVI ||  ☕ for Abundance XVII || ☕ for Abundance XVIII || […]

Friday, the Day of Love

hold me tight by angelicyoongie | The Reader’s Tea ➵myg x reader | fluff | hybrid au | part of the 1.2k event | drabble | 3k ➵otter!yoongi, neighbor!yoongi, human!mc

Okay, so maybe you have a slight crush, but who can really blame you [...] when he’s so good at fixing whatever he gets his hands on?

butterfingers by @jincherie | The Reader’s Tea ➵knj x reader | fluff, slice of life | coworkers to lovers | hybrid au | oneshot | 8.2k ➵hybrid!namjoon, teacher!namjoon, teacher aid!mc ➵In your (several) moments of weakness, you fall for hybrid and fellow teacher, Namjoon. Though truthfully? He had you at the first gifted pebble.

Saturday, the Day of Rest and Renewal

A Place Called Home by @agustdakasuga | The Reader’s Tea ➵ot7 x reader | fluff, angst, hurt/comfort | hybrid au | series | 88.3k ➵arctic fox!seokjin, panther!yoongi, golden retriever!hoseok, wolf!namjoon, calico cat!jimin, tiger!taehyung, rabbit!jungkook, vet!mc, human!mc ➵You’ve rescued two hybrids already, and you’re prepared to care for many more. But you don’t want to just care for their physical injuries; you want them to be safe, find the peace and love they deserve, find the place they can call home.

Sunday, the Day of the Sun

ride or die by angelicyoongie | The Reader’s Tea ➵knj x jjk | fluff, humor | hybrid au | part of the 1.2k event | drabble | 3k ➵human!namjoon, bunny!jungkook

jungkook needs an alibi, and namjoon has elaborate escape plans and is ready to risk it all.

Floof’s Tail by @jimlingss | The Reader’s Tea ➵pjm x reader | fluff, light angst | tsundere | hybrid au | part of drabbles 2021 | drabble | 3k ➵guard dog!jimin, lap dog!mc ➵Jimin is determined to protect his territory from newly adopted you. (Don’t worry, it might just take a little bit of time, tears, and scenting to warm up to you).

If Only You Knew by agustdakasuga ➵ot7 x reader | fluff, angst, hurt/comfort | hybrid au | series | discontinued ➵husky!seokjin, jaguar!yoongi, fox!hoseok, koala!namjoon, calico cat!jimin, bear!taehyung, bunny!jungkook, rehabilitator!mc, human!mc

From the start, you knew you wanted to be a hybrid rehabilitator. You needed to help these hybrids heal, learn to live with one another and lead normal lives. Even if they are all different, you hoped that they could give each other a new reason to live.

1st cup of Tea ||  2nd cup of Tea || […]

Looking for more hybrid bts? Check out the Hybrid Bangtan Network @hybridbangtan​!

[jonnysinsectcatalogue]

Cicindelinae Twelve-Spotted Tiger Beetle - Cicindela duodecimguttata

Happy Lunar New Year! It’s not often this blog celebrates an occasion like this (usually it’s just the change of seasons or other specific days), but if the days align, I’m happy to make this a habit. As we enter the year of the Tiger, this week there will be 2 posts based on the namesake of this new year! And so, today we return to an insect that best exemplifies a tiger’s ferocity, hunting prowess and fearlessness: a mighty Tiger Beetle! While they lack the tiger’s stripes (and a thick fur coat) they more than earn their name from their predatory habits of spotting prey with their huge eyes, chasing it down with alarming sprint speed and then slicing it up with their sharp, sickle-shaped mandibles! They are both quick in the air and on the ground making photography difficult, but not impossible. It’s quite simply remarkable! Not merely because of their speed, but also since the run undeterred by difficult terrain such as the gravely road shown in some of these pictures. It may only be in short bursts, but that dash is more than enough to corner and catch an unsuspecting insect in much the same way a tiger would lunge after a large mammal! Well, within reason: there is a difference between active hunting vs. ambush hunting, and Ground Beetles aren’t much for ambushing.

With terrain in consideration, I do remember that the Beetles pictured here tend to use their sprinting ability more on the wooden bridge, while those on the pebbled sections of the gravel road preferred flying away from the camera. Seems these hardy joggers are also aware of the problems terrain can bring to the hunt. Not only are these insects carnivorous as adults, they have a vicious streak in their larval stages as well. Given that their metamorphosis to maturity can take 2 years, that’s a whole lots of insects to eat. If you find yourself digging in Tiger Beetle territory, you may find their grubs. While tough to identify with specificity, the grubs of Cicindelinae (the subfamily) are easy to know for sure as they have large heads relative to body size and a hooked “humpback” 5th segment on their body with they use to anchor themselves in soil or (possibly) to snatch up insects. The larvae spend their lives underground, only venturing to the surface if they need to relocate from their deep burrow. In a few years, they can successfully hunt and pupate their way into adulthood, rewarding them with longer teeth, a hard shell and swift wings! Pay close attention to those lustrous shells, as those will give you your first clues as to what Beetle you’ve found!

Pictures were taken on September 11, 2021 near Kleinburg village with a Google Pixel 4. Coming on Friday, another insect with aspects of the tiger in honor of this new year! What could it be?

[agatesnstones]

agatesNstones!Our strength is the design and finishing quality that we offer, which makes us stand apart from others.

We would like to introduce ourselves as the manufacturer cum exporter of semi-precious stones various products, which specialize in furniture & decorative products such as centre tables, coffee tables, side table, coasters, platters, mirrors with combination of various metals and precious stones.

Our strength is the design and finishing quality that we offer, which makes us stand apart from others.

Our Collections are Fossil Jasper, Obsidian, Agate, quartz, Amber Shells, Minerals, carnelian, Avent urine, Labradorite Tiger Eye & Varied.

In Fossil Types: Bianco Petrified Wood, Fossilized Ammonite, Petrified Wood, Portro Petrified Wood & Retro Petrified Wood. Jasper Types: Black Jasper, Red Jasper & Yellow Jasper. Obsidian Types: Black Obsidian, Golden Black Obsidian, Silver Black Obsidian & Smoky Obsidian. Agate Types: Grey Agate, Brown Agate, White Agate, Blue Agate, Exotic Agate, Black Agate, Red Agate, Rainbow Agate & Blue Lace Agate. Quartz Types: White Quartz, Rose Quartz, Smokey Quartz, Yellow Quartz & Rainbow Quartz. Amber Shells Types: Bronze mother of pearl, Black mother of pearl, Golden mother of pearl, White mother of pearl, Belone & Caramel Abalone. Minerals Types: Pyrite Silver & Brown Carnelian. Carnelian Types: Black Carnelian & Brown Carnelian. Avent urine Types: Green Avent urine & Apricot Avent urine. Labradorite Types: Electric Blue Labradorite & Peacock Blue Labradorite. Tiger Eye Types: Blue tiger eye, Gold Tiger Eye & Red Tiger Eye. Varied Types: Lapis lazuli, Amethyst, Green Jade, Calcite Blue, Hematite, Fluorite, Blue Apatite & Amazonite.

Basically, we deal with Coaster, Platter, Boxes, Home Decor Products, Mirrors, Tables, Wash Basin & Stone Products.

Coaster Types: Brazilian Blue Agate Coaster with Gold Edges, Brazilian Green Agate Coaster with Gold Edges, Green Agate Coaster with Gold Edges, Amethyst Coaster with Gold Edges, Green Avent urine Coaster with Gold Edges, Mix Agate Round Coaster with Gold Edges, Grey Agate Coaster with Gold Edges, Natural Yellow Agate Coaster with Gold Edges, Mix Agate SQ. Coaster with Gold Edges, Pink Agate Coaster with Gold Edges, Smoky Quartz Coaster with Gold Edges, Rose Quartz Coaster with Gold Edges, White Quartz Text Coaster with Gold Edges, White Agate Coaster with Gold Edges, White Quartz Coaster with Gold Edges, Pebble Coaster, Agate Slice Coaster, Natural Yellow Agate Slice Coaster, Green Berry Square Coaster with Gold Edges, Natural Yellow Agate Slice with Marble Base Coaster, Terrazzo Mix Agate Chips Round Coaster, Terrazzo Blue Agate Chips Round Coaster, Brazilian Purple Agate Coaster with Gold Edges, Mix Agate Terrazzo Square Coaster, Black Agate Coaster with Gold Edges, Black Agate Coaster with Gold Edges, Mix Agate Marble Coaster, Grey Agate Chip Black Coaster, Blue Avent urine Coaster with Gold Edges, Black Berry Coaster with Gold Edges, Grey Berry Square Coaster with Gold Edges.

We have our own manufacturing facilities which help ensure that we maintain the integrity of the design and quality, along with timely deliveries.

For More Information Visit:http://www.agatesnstones.com/

[bekkathyst]

Item List - New Item Sale 01-11-20

To claim an item, please comment on the original item post and message me your info. The link to the original rules can be found here.

#1   1.5" included quartz drop pendants - SOLD OUT!

#2   0.5" rose quartz apple pendants - SOLD OUT!

#3   1" rose quartz pyramids

#4   1" silver plated deep purple amethyst pendants - SOLD OUT!

#5   1" - 1.5" polished all natural citrine points

#6   2" dragon’s blood jasper howling wolf carvings - SOLD OUT!

#7   1" labradorite sleeping dog carvings - SOLD OUT!

#8   1" lapis lazuli skulls - SOLD OUT!

#9   1.2" high quality rose quartz spheres

#10  2" lepidolite detailed skull carvings - SOLD OUT!

#11  2.5" pink optical calcite - SOLD OUT!

#12  2.25" natural ametrine polished double points - SOLD OUT!

#13  2" sardonyx palm stones- SOLD OUT!

#14  1.75" high quality rhodonite spheres - SOLD OUT!

#15  2.75" flower agate/sakura agate palm stones

#16 4" polished flashy labradorite points - SOLD OUT!

#17  4" labradorite obelisks

#18  2.25" high quality sodalite spheres - SOLD OUT!

#19  3.5" amethyst “energy generators”

#20  3" massive, super flashy labradorite palm stones - SOLD OUT!

#21  1.75" high quality red rutilated quartz points

#22  3" smoky phantom amethyst double points

#23  3" high quality golden rutilated quartz points

#24  1.5" purple labradorite pebbles - SOLD OUT!

#25  1.5" polished smoky quartz points

#26  4.5" high quality rainbow fluorite points - SOLD OUT!

#27  4" tiger’s eye obelisks

#28  4" green fluorite obelisks - SOLD OUT!

#29  2" rough labradorite chunks with one polished side

#30  3" rough labradorite chunks with a polished side

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Since this is a very long list with a lot of hyperlinks it may be difficult for some of you to scroll past it. I’m going to post this list only once and I will simply provide links to it later on instead of reblogging it, so that it will appear on your dashboard only once.

[derpyslurpy-da-derp-master]

All the Fruits Bastkets asks

How were you introduced to the series?

It was my second Anime actually, I watched a video by TheAnimeMan that led me to watching both my first anime (Special A) and Fruits Basket.

Favorite character?

MOMIJI HE IS MY SON AND HE MUST BE PROTECTED

Least favorite character?

Kyo’s mom. Nuff said.

Character you relate to most?

Honestly? Probably Kyo, at least in the way that he reminds me a lot of who I was when I was younger. I genuinely wanted to do good and make friends and had a good heart, but I had so much bad stuff bottled up inside of me and no safe outlet for it other than being enraged... I’m a lot better now though. 

Do you relate to the character with your zodiac animal?

For the longest time I thought I was a Tiger but I’m actually a horse. The horse, Isuzu, didn’t actually appear in the anime at all if memory serves. I’ll give my thoughts based off of her wikia entry though. 

...Uhh, wowzer. Uh. I’d say so. She uh, went through seriously bad circumstances regarding her parents and I do indeed have a very emotionally abusive father that likes to teeter on the edge between emotional and physical. However unlike Isuzu I’ve recovered from that time I was self destructive because of the abuse I was enduring. (Hence why I acted a bit like Kyo when I was a kid) Now I've taken that pain and made it into something more constructive, after all ‘You need to know true suffering to learn the deepest of empathy.’

Character that you disliked/were indifferent towards, but grew on you?

Haru. He scared me a lot when I was a kid actually. Now that I’m older though, he doesn’t scare me that much anymore, plus now I actually understand the whole ‘proving his haircolor’ joke.

Character that you think needs more love?

The nice thing about this fandom is that the characters that need love get bucket loads of it from the fans, I literally can’t think of a character that needs more love because they all get love.

Favorite manga chapter?

Didn’t read the Manga, N/A

Favorite episode?

That’s a toughie since it’s been so long and the episode kinda blur together... I’d say the one where the lads leave for New Years (I think?) then realize that Tohru probably needs them by her side so Yuki and Kyo race back home to find Tohru crying a bit and she’s shocked they came back and the following scene is just so wholesome and makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside

Favorite theme in the story?

Don’t let your trauma define you and Blood isn’t always thicker than water. Sadly more often than not these two themes intertwine a lot both in the show and real life...

Favorite canon ship?

Don’t make me pick please. I don’t have a favorite lad with Tohru and I don’t remember if any of the other ships I can think of are cannon or not.

Favorite non-canon ship?

Since I’m not sure it’s cannon or not, the tiger and the sheep. If they could just get Akaito to leave them be the two could repair their relationship and make things right between them again. LET THESE KIDS BE HAPPY 2K19!

Favorite friendship/non-romantic relationship?

Tohru and her two friends! They’re such good friends I love them together so much.

What do you love most about the series?

Where the fresh frosted fruity pebbles do I begin? The music? The message? The nostalgia? The way it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside? How about all of the above can I pick that option?

Which character do you think you’d most likely be friends with?

Yuki or Tohru, I mean I’m gay so I wouldn’t have the ‘oh my god he’s so hot’ feelings most girls in the series got so I’d gladly be friends with this soft rat lad and with Tohru, I mean, she’s an incredibly kind and friendly gal so why wouldn’t I want to be friends with her?

Which character would you not get along with (or, wouldn’t get along with you)?

Oof, yeah, I would nnnnoooot get along with the Boar at all. She’s loud and I have a hyper sensitivity to noise, especially loud vocal noises and I just naturally don’t like people who just are loud, even if they’re not mean (which she arguably is) I end up disliking them. This isn’t even mentioning how much she beats up Kyo, when I see a person beating up another person I just do not care for that shit at all and will attempt to stop it because stop

. Song that reminds you of the series (or character of your choosing)?

Uhh, so, I was REALLY young when I discovered Fruits Basket, like, on my IPod all the time but not yet a fan of Horror RPG’s young, the young where I spent all my days watching bad AMV’s and MMD videos and nothing else. So. The song that makes me think of this series every time I hear it is ‘I’m Your Little Butterfly’ because of this really bad AMV from 2012 that I watched several times and my brain now associates it with Fruits Basket. I was literally and actually ten years old, give me a break!

Any headcanons for [character]?

Momiji grows up and is forever surrounded by loved ones and nobody is mean to him ever again. You can pry it from my cold dead hands.

Any favorite fanworks (fanart, fanfic, etc.)?

Ohhh, yeah! There was this one Fruits Basket fanfiction I read when I was 11 or so, it was a normal day AU where Kyo was the head of a dojo and Tohru started to work there, cleaning and providing food to the students and stuff. It was a really wholesome time, never finished it though, it probably wasn’t finished at all when I read it since back then I would read all the way through every fanfiction in one sitting because I had literally nothing better to do. It was very wholesome and had a slice of life sorta feel to it, I can’t find it now though. It probably doesn’t even exist anymore.

Any hot takes (about a character, the series in general, the fandom, etc.)?

Nope.

[sigprosofty]

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[of-frost-and-fire]

The Element’s Clash

Part 6 She was getting desperate.

This much was quite obvious to the calculative cryomancer as her punches got more erratic - more furious and unplanned. It was not unlike an animal, her punches as ferocious as a starved tiger or fearsome hawk. And yet they didn't seem to hold up against the Frozen Crow, each punch being parried and subsequently countered by a much more swift and planned one that managed to slam and claw into her time and time again. Even her crazed cries fell on uncaring ears, her demands for laughter being met only by an uncaring fist to the jaw that set her back. She grabbed for her gun and raised it towards him and yet he was too quick to allow her the chance to even pull the trigger, crushing her wrist between his grasp as she was sent flying by the powerful knee to her gut as her rose gold firearm dropped to the cobblestone streets.

The icicles, too, were just as ferocious as her. Her protected arm caught many of the much more lethal ones that were aimed at her chest, though this resulted in the subsequent puncturing of her lung that fueled both her rage and pain. And she pushed forward still, their grim melee resuming as she threw punch after fiery punch at his head, only for his ice-ridden claws to her left shoulder was torn open, only for his right elbow to be deeply scraped as well. The sound of tearing flesh filled the air as the scent of blood grew thick, and a low, dark chuckle finally escaped the half-masked man's lips as his eyes narrowed in on her like a marksman. And thus his third claw rang true, slicing her knee and causing her leg to buckle as she began to fall forth, his gauntlet heading directly towards her neck...

Unfortunately for the mage, though, she managed to redirect her motion, the razor-sharp fingers of the icy weapon instead slicing up and through her face like it was warm butter, finding a rather painful purchase across her nose as a large gash was dug deeply into it. The momentum carried through her, though, and the damage he had wracked against her form set her off balance enough for his foot to easily cut under her own and trip her with ease, her skull cracking against the stone street as the mage took a single moment to breath before shifting and dashing forth once more. But this time... she was faster. In one rapid motion she was up once more, her form weaving unnaturally quickly despite how much of his ice-infused spells and weapons had sliced across her.

And because of this, his arm was caught directly in her molten grasp.

The next moments were a blur of pain and confusion. The moment his arm was caught, her other hand curled into a comet-like fist that pounded directly into his rib cage. The fire blazed across his cloaks and burned all the way through at her knuckles, nicking his pale skin with flames in the first punch alone. Two of his ribs even cracked under the immense weight of the punch, his lungs emptying as he gasped for air. But she didn't stop, punch after lethal punch digging deeper and deeper into his abdomen as each one was met with the feeling of cracked bones and the smell of burnt, bloodied flesh. And the seventh - or was it the eighth? - punch was the worst of all, the entirety of the clothing surrounding the left side of his gut being completely burned to ash as his skin was split and charred at the edges, bone fragments falling forth as one of the ribs even was forced through his own skin.

But of those that she punched inward, none managed to pierce his lung. Not because they simply missed, but because he willed his blood to freeze centimeters before they reached it.

But that did nothing to stop her as she suddenly shifted her weight once more, carrying him forth and over her own shoulder as she forced both of them onto their backs against the stone with a painful THUD. The mage's vision immediately blurred upon impact, the back of his head cracking open against the stones as blood began to pool against the pebbles and matted up his snow-white hair. His whole form went rigid with pain too, a painful exhale escaping his lips as they remained still for far too long. But the pyromancer was moving, regardless of what little strength she had left in her bones, her body was still able to move... if only barely. But barely was seemingly enough, her hand wrapping around the handle of her gun as she haphazardly raised its muzzle towards him, her own hazed gaze watching him just now begin to slowly rise as her finger yanked the cold metallic trigger.

The next minute was a blur. The bullet cut through the side of the mage's neck like an unseen blade, blood beginning to pour from the wound as it doused his right shoulder and arm in deep crimson. But he stood nonetheless, breathing - albeit barely - as he looked over his shoulder towards the now unconscious woman. And part of him told him to finish it, to put a spike of ice straight through her skull... but he didn't, and he had no idea why. Instead, his attention turned towards the artifact that sparked this whole fight, his unfocused eyes catching its cubic shape as he slowly made his way towards the artifact, taking it in his hand as a sudden feeling of dread washed over him.

"W-what...?"

And in a sudden flash, the gate alighted with purple energy, expanding slightly as a bright light began to pour from the cube, blinding the cryomancer completely as the light swallowed both of the mages in its radiance, the light - and, subsequently, the cube - disappearing not a moment later...

It became still, quiet, and dark once the "artifact" was activated; remaining so for a decent amount of time as the two fugitives were dispatched into some kind of alternative and quite mystic method of transport. The lurch of their simple matter pressing against the frost mage's bleary mind, and rendering him unconscious. Their destination was unknown, and there was no telling how far it was, but one thing was for sure, their thrills had only begun.

[asfeedin]

LSAT prep, DJ sets and virtual golf

4:30 PM IST

Ohm Youngmisuk

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ESPN Staff Writer

Ohm Youngmisuk has covered the Giants, Jets and the NFL since 2006. Prior to that, he covered the Nets, Knicks and the NBA for nearly a decade. He joined ESPNNewYork.com after working at the New York Daily News for almost 12 years and is a graduate of Michigan State University. Follow him on Twitter »  Ohm’s chat archive »

Malika Andrews

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ESPN Staff Writer

Staff Writer

Joined ESPN in 2018

Appears regularly on ESPN Chicago 1000

ON APRIL 18, instead of concocting a game plan to possibly defend Giannis Antetokounmpo on the opening day of the NBA playoffs, Garrett Temple was locked in on antithesis passages in his online LSAT prep course.

With the 2019-20 NBA season on hold since March 11 due to the coronavirus, the Brooklyn Nets wing has been putting in the hours studying, listening to law podcasts and talking to professors as part of his weekly preparation for the Law School Admission Test.

While some players have tried to fill the basketball void with video games or training routines, others have taken on new challenges to stay sharp. From mastering a second language to becoming handy around the house to diving into a Lego world, players are finding ways to stay engaged.

And one might even be law school-bound, with sights on a perfect 180 LSAT score.

“I can’t let — what’s-her-name on ‘Legally Blonde’ got a 179 — Elle Woods [beat me],” Temple said. “I really want to do it and get a great score.”

MORE: When will the NBA return? Latest suspension updates

Garrett Temple has been spending his time away from basketball with LSAT prep. “It’s providing structure. I’m really enjoying it,” he said. Courtesy of Garrett Temple

BEFORE THE SUSPENSION, Temple had long been contemplating life after basketball. The 10-year journeyman graduated from LSU in 2009 with an undergraduate business degree and considered getting his MBA. His father, Collis Temple, told him that a law degree would be more beneficial.

Collis is an entrepreneur in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and was the first black varsity basketball player at LSU after Temple’s grandfather, Collis Temple Sr., was not allowed to attend graduate school at LSU because of his skin color.

Temple’s interest in pursuing a law degree was further piqued after watching a TED talk by Adam Foss, a former assistant district attorney in Boston and advocate for criminal justice reform. The final push came when Temple met Bryan Stevenson, the nationally acclaimed public interest lawyer and social justice activist depicted in the 2019 film “Just Mercy.”

“I think you can create a lot of change in your own community,” Temple said. “Help change the prison industrial complex and school-to-prison pipeline in my community, the black community.”

Temple has immersed himself in science podcasts and magazines with help from his fiancée, Kára McCullough, a scientist with a concentration in radiochemistry.

She has also often forced Temple to take breaks from hours of studying. The veteran guard just can’t help himself.

“It’s providing structure. I’m really enjoying it,” Temple said.

“I mean, we ain’t got nothing else to do. So I’m studying, man. Just trying to better myself.”

CODY ZELLER KNEW next to nothing about carpentry before the season went on hiatus. But a month and a half in, the Charlotte Hornets center can now build a closet befitting a 7-footer. (It’s a skill that has been quicker to learn than playing the guitar, which others such as Antetokounmpo and Patty Mills have also picked up.)

Zeller’s brother Tyler, a free agent who most recently played with the Memphis Grizzlies in 2019, purchased a home in Indiana, and Cody has been helping with do-it-yourself home improvement projects.

“I took responsibility for [Tyler’s] master closet,” Zeller said. “I had no woodworking ability before. I’ve learned how to use a miter saw, a table saw. We put it together.”

“Everybody and their mother is gonna have a podcast when we are done with this quarantine.”

Georges Niang

Lack of experience? That was nothing a few YouTube tutorials couldn’t solve — almost.

“I will say, full disclosure, I had to [build] it twice,” Zeller said, “because the first time I messed up.”

Zeller cut, sanded and painted all the wood and built a seven-tier shelf rack. But when he went to fasten the frame to the wall, he had forgotten one tiny yet crucial detail.

“I realized I hadn’t accounted for the space between the closet rod and the shelf above it, so there was no room for the hangers to hang on the closet,” Zeller said. “So it was back to the drawing board.

“That was like three days’ worth of work down the drain. Anyway, long story short, it looks great now.”

THIS EXTRA DOWNTIME has given John Collins the chance to master a second language and get more in touch with his family heritage. Collins, whose mother is part Puerto Rican, has been taking Spanish lessons via Rosetta Stone and the Duolingo app.

The Atlanta Hawks big man took Spanish classes in high school in West Palm Beach, Florida, before continuing courses during his two years at Wake Forest.

“I never had a chance to finish — obviously I left school early,” Collins said. “But it’s always been something that I’ve wanted to finish just ’cause I have been around it so much, and I want to learn.”

Monday through Friday, host Mina Kimes brings you an inside look at the most interesting stories at ESPN, as told by the top reporters and insiders on the planet. Listen

Although he could grasp what his grandfather and other relatives were saying during conversations, Collins found writing in Spanish to be difficult. After the first few weeks of quarantine, Collins wasn’t sure how much his Spanish was improving.

“I’m better than where I was,” Collins said. “To get real growth, I got to go over to a Spanish-speaking country.

“Hopefully one day I will get the opportunity.”

USED TO MAINTAINING a strict in-season schedule, Utah Jazz forward Georges Niang found the extra free time jarring.

The team dropped off a stationary bike and weights so he could keep up with daily exercises, but video games have grown boring, Netflix has provided only so many hours of entertainment, and sleeping in has lost its appeal.

So he started the “Drive & Dish” podcast and video series with help from the Jazz.

“Everybody and their mother is gonna have a podcast when we are done with this quarantine,” he said.

After an unsuccessful foray into Instagram Live — “It was horrible content,” Niang said — “Drive & Dish” debuted on March 31 and has delved into quarantine life with Jazz All-Star Donovan Mitchell, the Olympics postponement with two-time soccer gold medalist Amy Rodriguez and the Michael Jordan Game 6 winner with former Jazz player Bryon Russell.

Niang even has his own theme song and logo.

#DriveAndDish Episode 𝟐 is LIVE!

@GeorgesNiang20 interviews @spidadmitchell about that night in OKC, what he wishes he’d known as a kid & his strangest superstitions

#NBATogether 𝘍𝘜𝘓𝘓 𝘝𝘐𝘋𝘌𝘖 » https://t.co/7uQk59B8Po pic.twitter.com/MCY4rAUsaj

— utahjazz (@utahjazz) April 3, 2020

The podcast’s name is inspired by his team nickname. In the Jazz locker room, Niang is known as “the minivan” because he likens his teammates to Ferraris while thinking of himself as a less luxurious vehicle.

“I need a couple laps around the block before I get warmed up,” Niang said. “Hop in the minivan and drive and dish.”

KENT BAZEMORE HAS been teeing it up at some of the best golf courses in the country. Virtually, that is.

The Sacramento Kings swingman has been regularly retreating to the basement of his Atlanta home, honing his skills on a golf simulator that would rival Tiger Woods’ personal setup. Video cameras and sensors track Bazemore’s every hook, slice, chip and putt.

“It is about as in-depth as I can get without being a professional golfer,” said Bazemore, who earlier this month took down former teammate Stephen Curry in a virtual match at Pebble Beach.

2 Related

Now the lefty has a chance to get serious about his golf game. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, Bazemore takes virtual golf lessons with his instructor, Jon Tattersall, the 2014 Georgia PGA Teacher of the Year.

And Bazemore still drives to a real golf course once a week — Georgia is one of a handful of states allowing courses to stay open.

“I am on a quest to become a scratch golfer,” Bazemore said. “My handicap right now is at 8 and I need it to be down to 0.”

To get over the next hump, Bazemore said he plans on working with a sports psychologist.

“There’s a lot of things that go into becoming [a scratch golfer],” Bazemore said. “I’m on the fringe. This is the closest I’ve ever been.”

THOUSANDS HAVE FLOCKED to social media over the past month to listen to DJs such as D-Nice spin sets on Instagram Live.

Now Andre Drummond has joined the wave.

On April 20, the Cleveland Cavaliers center kicked off “Drummond Quarantine Radio,” which features Drummond with DJ Drewski from the center’s Miami home.

Last week, Drummond hosted a “ladies night” set, when viewers could make song requests. And he put on “Talent Show Thursday,” which featured an appearance by actor and comedian Michael Rapaport, among other special guests.

Andre Drummond, also known as DRUMMXND, has been busy on Instagram Live during the NBA’s suspension. David Liam Kyle/NBAE via Getty Images

Drummond’s no novice. He goes by the rap name “DRUMMXND” and is planning on releasing his second album, “FYI 2,” soon.

He won’t be the only NBA player releasing new music during quarantine. Orlando Magic forward Aaron Gordon dropped his Dwyane Wade- and dunk contest loss-inspired diss track “9 out of 10” on Monday.

On Tuesday, Gordon made a guest appearance on the seventh episode of “Drummond Quarantine Radio.” Drummond pointed out that for as long as they’ve known each other, he never knew of Gordon’s desire to put out rap songs.

“I mean, we got a lot of time on our hands right now, ya hear me?” said Gordon, who started making music before this season and is working with Grammy Award winner Austin Owens, also known as Ayo The Producer.

“I get to tap into my creative side,” Gordon added. “Get in touch with emotions and express myself.”

Gordon then gave DRUMMXND his next quarantine endeavor — to deliver some new rap hooks.

“We putting together a project, [with] athletes, with Ayo,” Gordon said. “We need you on the project.

“We need a couple of verses for the project. Please.”

LOCAL GYMS SHUT down after Dallas County issued a shelter-in-place order on March 23, but Myles Turner had to find a way to get in weight training while staying in the guest house of the Texas home he built for his parents.

So the Indiana Pacers center jumped online to find the nearest squat rack — more than 100 miles away in Waco.

“In Texas, that’s nothing,” said Turner, who embarked on the four-hour round trip along Interstate 35. “That’s just an easy drive, right down the street.”

Turner then built the multipurpose squat rack and bench press in under two hours with help from friends. It’s now the centerpiece of a once near-empty garage he’s converted into his personal gym, complete with medicine balls, adjustable dumbbells and a padded floor.

“I gotta improvise,” said Turner, who last week shared his passion for yoga via a live class on the NBA’s Instagram page. “I’ve always kind of been into just putting stuff together.”

And when he didn’t have a screwdriver or wrench in his hand, Turner was still busy building. He assembled one Lego set, and his latest creation — a 2,000-piece Star Wars jigsaw puzzle — was completed in about a week.

“I am about to go to Target right now,” he said, “and get a basketball hoop for outside.”

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Tags: Andre Drummond, Cody Zeller, daily, DJ, Garrett Temple, Georges Niang, Golf, John Collins, Kent Bazemore, LSAT, Myles Turner, NBA, Prep, Sets, virtual

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[calliope-hesiod]

The Pink-Furred Bunny || closed

Labor: Callie’s creative writing school assignment. An object that means a lot to you, in story form

[tw: none except if you get emotional about Toy Story 2 and 3]

The first thing the bunny sees is glitter.

The first thing he hears is squealing.

“Mom!” shouts a girl-voice. He thinks it is a girl-voice. He does not know what a girl, is per say, but he knows that girl is a word and it could be used to describe this voice.

The glitter is gone, and the bunny realizes the glitter is on a shirt, another word that he does not know the meaning of, but now knows. He has learned that girl means this creature in front of him, tanned skin, frizzy hair, wide dark eyes.

“Happy Birthday!” says another voice. This voice is for a woman. Bigger than the girl, with skin a deeper brown, but a smile just as wide. “I knew you’d like it. I saw it in the store a couple of months ago while shopping and I’ve been saving it.”

“I love it, Mom.”

Mom. This is a word he does not know. Mom. It sounds warm though. He like the way the girl says it. The word is round and warm and makes him feel like the girl is holding him to her chest again. He liked how that felt. It made him feel safe. He wonders if mom means safe. Or something like it.

“What do you want to name it?” says the mom.

“Hmm,” says the girl. “I don’t know yet. But it’s not an ‘it.’ It’s a him.”

Thank you for getting that correct, girl, thinks the bunny. I can tell we’re going to have a good relationship if you continue to respect me. Please just don’t pick a name I cannot stand.

He knows what a Name is, of course. A Name is a most important of things. A Name is what gives you a purpose, what makes you important. It binds you to the person, to this girl. He is excited to find out his Name. He, admittedly, is a little nervous. What if this girl doesn’t pick a name that fits him? What if she picks something too forceful, like Bruce, or something too simple like Mr. Bunny? He needs something perfect, for him, something that will compliment his soft pink fur and the sewn part of his ears that shimmers. Something that is just as jaunty as his poofy tail, just as delicate as his nose, just as intelligent as his shiny black eyes.

He waits in anticipate for his Name. He has waited for this for as long as he can remember (admittedly, it is not very long).

The girl looks him over. She strokes his ear. Her hands are warm. Her face is kind.

“I think…I’ll name you … Nibbles.”

Nibbles! Nibbles?! Nibbles is hardly a name befitting of a bunny of his stature. If Nibbles – shrudder! – could move, he would and scoff at this girl and tell her that the Name she chose was a bad one indeed. Nibbles is not refined. Nibbles is not elegant. Nibbles is cutesy. He is not cutsey.

“I like that name a lot,” says the mom. “Very cute!”

Nibbles is baffled. Doesn’t she see that is precisely the problem? He should not be cute. He should be dignified and regal and very very important. Bah!

He can’t do anything though. Cannot speak up (he does not know what speaking is), cannot find a new person. The girl smiles at him again and then hugs him. Her embrace is warm. Nibbles is annoyed. How can someone with such bad Naming skills give such good hugs? This is preposterous.

The girl puts Nibbles down. He realizes he is on a table, which appears to be a wooden surface. There are plates and there is cake. His cognizance is growing. He doesn’t even need to think too hard about the word cake to know that it is a treat of the utmost deliciousness, soft and fluffy just like his fur. This cake is pink too, with little flowers made of icing – another word he does not have to think too hard about, for icing is also delicious and more liquidy than cake – and candles, sticks that light up except the ones here are not lit, in it. This is a birthday, he realizes. A celebrating. This girl is growing. He feels a swell of pride, even though he does not know this girl, even though she gave him a most silly name.

“Can we eat the cake now?” she asks.

The mom cuts a slice. Nibbles waits in anticipation. He would very much like to try some of this cake and this icing – but no slice comes to him! Appalling! He watches the girl eat though, and it is almost as if he is tasting this cake and this icing. He feels the sweetness and then he feels fullness in his belly, as the girl grabs him and hugs him again.

Is this what it is like to have a person? Nibbles wonders. He still hates his name, but watching the girl eat made him happy. When she hugs him, he is happy. He wonders what else there is for him to do besides watch her eat and be hugged.

 --

That night, though, he learns the first thing. The girl sleeps soundly and holds him close. Nibbles doesn’t know what sleep is, really. He can sort of lie there and not think about anything, but it is not the same as what this girl does. Her eyes close, her breathing slows, and suddenly, it is as if she is here but also not here. Nibbles is bored. Her hug is warm, but unless she wakes there is nothing for him to do.

So he thinks.

She begins to whimper. Whimper – it’s an ugly word. He doesn’t like it. It’s crying, but helplessly. Crying, but without relief. Her eyes are still closed, but she tosses and turns.

Nibbles doesn’t know how, but he’s next to her again. He presses himself into her arms.

It’s okay, he furiously says. Her arms wrap around him. He snuggles closer to her. (He does not actually move, but something in the girl compels her to pull him closer). I won’t let anything get to you.

He learns, then, that one of the things he must do now is protect.

 --

Nibbles learns many things over the next day. He learns to protect. He learns to watch television. He learns to eat cereal, which he adores but not as much as cake. He also learns to play.

This is his favorite thing to do. The girl tells a story and he listens – they are on a rocket ship, she tells him and suddenly, he is there, in the cockpit as the hurtle to space. He sees the stars! The Earth is so small from up here. The two of them drift weightlessly. She holds his paws.

“Nibbles! We need to send someone to the moon!”

I’ll do it! He volunteers.

“Okay!” She understands me? “I’m sending you!”

And out the spaceship he goes and he is on the surface of the moon, a white, barren, desolate wasteland, but the stars above him shine like no other. He wears a little helmet and spacesuit. He walks on the surface of the moon. Mission Control – his girl – speak to him. He collects rocks. He feels so small in space, but feels so big.

“Callie! Lunch!”

“Okay, Mom!”

Then – suddenly – the floor. He is on the floor. He looks up at the ceiling. Where is the moon? Where is the girl? Why are they just in a house again? How did that happen?

He waits there. He waits and waits. He is patient. The girl comes back. She picks him up and – there they are, on the moon once more.

“I’m coming with you this time, Nibbles!”

I could sure use some help! Nibble says.

“Of course I’ll help you,” says the girl.

She can understand him, Nibbles realizes. When they play. When they are on the moon.

The moon is nice.

“Yeah, I like it a lot. But it’s lonely, you know? I’m glad I’m with you.”

I am glad I’m with you too.

She must be magic, he thinks, to whisk him away to the moon and back in just a second.

 --

It is not just the moon the girl takes Nibbles to: they go on safaris in Africa, looking at lions and tigers and hippos; they dive deep into the sea and find a sunken treasure; one time, the girl takes him to the Oregon Trail and the two of them battle dysentery and nearly die. He does not like that one, but it seemed to bring the girl a lot of joy as she listed facts about how many wagons were in a trail.

The girl can understand him when they play. Even sometimes when they are alone. Even when the mom is around. Only, it seems the mom can’t understand him. And when other people are around, the girl needs to listen very very carefully.

It is a secret language they’ve created, the two of them

Why did you name me Nibbles? He asks her one night as they drift off to sleep.

“It’s cute!”

But I don’t want to be cute! I am fierce!

“I think a nibble is fierce. It’s something you underestimate. Nibbles can be bites, but they don’t have to be. I think you’re very soft and sweet, but you can protect me if you need to.”

Oh. Well. I suppose that is okay.

“I love you, Nibbles.”

I love you too.

 --

One time, she takes him to Greece. He does not know what Greece is, but this is a place with lots of white buildings and the smell of olive oil and a mountain way in the distance.

“The gods and goddesses live there, Nibbles,” says the girl. Her voice is a little sad.

A mountain is very tall. I guess that is where all the gods and goddesses will have enough space to be.

“I’m going to live in Greece, Nibbles,” says the girl.

Yes, I know that. That is what we are playing now, right? That is why I am wearing this white tunic and you have laurels in your hair.

The girl is quiet and doesn’t answer. They walk through the agora, through a bustling market place. The girl says that there is a prophecy. That they need to defeat a monster together. Nibbles nods. He is ready for anything.

They step onto a boat and whisk away on the blue, blue sea. It is bluer than any sea Nibbles has seen in real life (the girl and the mom live near the ocean; she takes Nibbles to the beach sometimes, he likes it), but it is just as blue as ones they have played before. The sun is hot. Nibbles likes the feeling on his fur. The boat sails itself.

Soon they are on an island. The girl gets off the boat and helps Nibbles out. She gives him a sword. She takes one herself. They trek onto the island. It is a long, arduous trek. There are many rocks and pebbles that get in Nibbles’ sandals.

Maybe we should stop.

“No, we have to keep going,” says the girl. “We need to defeat the monster. Then I don’t have to go to Greece.”

Nibbles is a bit confused. Are they not already in Greece? Why does she want to not go somewhere she already is? But they are playing, so Nibbles listens and follows along.

The monster they face is hulking, large, taller than anything Nibbles has ever seen before. It opens its mouth, full of razor-sharp teeth and tries to swallow them whole. The girl screams. She charges. Nibbles follows. They stab their swords into the monster just before it can eat them. They’ve won.

 --

Nibbles is alone. He waits. He waits and waits for the girl. He sees the mom and each and every time he wants to ask where the girl is, when she’s coming back. He does not see her though. For a long time, he wonders if he remembers incorrectly, if the monster actually ate the girl. He should’ve done something more. He should’ve helped.

But then the girl pops her head in the door one day and scoops him up and tells him she missed him.

I missed you too!

They talk a bit and she cuddles him close for two nights and they play a few times and then she is gone again. This happens a few times. He doesn’t keep count. He is comforted, though, that she will always come back. Mayeb the time goes by longer. He doesn’t know. Time means nothing to him without his girl.

One day, she pops her head back in the room. She sits on the bed. Nibbles is exited.

I feel like it’s been longer! Let’s play!

She looks at him. She doesn’t say anything. She reaches out and touches his ear.

“I wish you could talk to me again, Nibbles.”

I’m talking now. Can’t you hear me? We’re talking.

“I wonder what you’re thinking now. It’s been so long. I’m so sorry.”

What are you talking about?

He notices then that the girl is taller. Her face is not as round. Her hair is longer. Is this what it feels like when time passes? He hasn’t noticed. Well, he did notice that she was not there, but now she is here. But now she can’t understand him. Something happened. Something changed.

“I’m going to take you back this time,” says the girl, and she picks him up and hug him. At least her hug still feels the same.

Okay. I trust you.

--

He sees the girl every day now. He sits on her bed during the day. She cuddles him at night. They do not play, but that is okay. He is older now, too, he realizes, and going on adventures to the moon, to the depths of the ocean, and fighting dysentery and battling monsters is not something he can do well anymore. He is content, though to be with her. To watch over her.

She smiles a lot. It is like the same smile he first saw. She wears glitter, though it is different shirts than he first knew. She still gets nightmares. He still protects her.

One day, she comes home and she cries. Nibbles has protected her from crying before. She collapses on the bed and holds him tight. He has protected her from crying before, but that was when they could understand each other, when they spoke a language only they could understand.

He is unsure what to do now. He can hear her sob, but all he can do is hug her back. He wishes he could do more.

“I wish I could understand you again,” she whispers between sobs.

That’s okay, says Nibbles and he feels her pull him closer. You don’t have to understand me for me to understand you.

[bloodrainbow]

Tiger Blood

by Bud Smith

I meet a girl on OK Cupid and the first date goes well enough. We sit in a red booth with folds like a heart sliced open and stare at each other, sipping icy beverages, smiling the way you should at these things.

She says, “I’ve got tiger blood.”

“Oh? Like what do you mean? In a jar or something?”

“No, in my body.”

“I’m crazy too,” I say. “I once swallowed a handful of gravel. Helps me digest.”

“Like a pelican.”

Jackie. Her name is Jackie. Jackie with her hair gelled back. Jackie understands.

I grin and have spinach in between most teeth (I see it in a mirror later) but she doesn’t say anything. Now, she’s chill. I stir my iced tea. I wish we were plastered. I wish we were plastered and having sex, no condom, in the back of my pickup truck parked in the shade behind the plaza.

We’re in recovery. That happened by accident.

“What kind of gravel was it? Sharp red rocks? Blue like jetty stone? River pebbles?”

“Ah come on, I was just screwing around. I don’t swallow any gravel.”

She sits up straight.

“Well why would you say something that wasn’t true?"

“You started it.”

“I really do have tiger blood though.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’ll show you.”

We’re sober and I have car insurance right now and a current registration and even have a driver’s license and this is America and I really like this girl and want to impress her so we leave the restaurant without paying and break into the science lab at the community college.

We are working in the dark as not to alert the watchman.

Just light of cellphone.

Until she plugs the microscope into the wall and it beings to glow.

“I don’t usually do things like this on the first date.”

“It’s cool.”

“Slice me open,” she says, “but be gentle.”

I drag a scalpel across her forearm and she catches a droplet of red on a perfect little glass slide and pushes it underneath the microscope, into the electric shine.

“Okay, take a look.”

I lean down and look.

Well look at that. She doesn’t have happy little red inner tube ringlets or plasma lifesavers or even globs of shivering crimson.

She really does have tigers.

Bengal tigers I think and they are running around on the slide in slow motion. The tigers chase each other. And play. And some lay down and sleep. And others are already sleeping. There are countless tigers in her blood. A sea of them, bounding and rolling and attacking and screwing and fighting and jumping over each other and licking their own tails and paws.

It was incredible. She was incredible.

At least in this one way.

But as it goes, we didn’t last very long.

Just another date after that.

Roller skating.

I took her roller skating.

I must not have impressed her much with my roller skating and I would not pull magic out of the unknown and I could not cause any dark room to glow the way that room did with the night watchman lost roaming other halls and I would not vomit gravel like a bird does before sailing over endless canyon.

[inb4vaughn]

The Father-Son Magic Of Pebble Beach

As the golf world settles in for what promises to be a momentous U.S. Open at what I believe is the event’s greatest venue — Pebble Beach Golf Links — on its 100th birthday, it’s the perfect time to revisit one of my favorite columns ever, which originally appeared in the December 2007 edition of Fairways + Greens magazine. As you’ll see, it’s also an apropos Father’s Day story. I hope all the dads and sons out there find it inspiring. The bottom line: In American golf, there’s no finer bucket list destination than Pebble Beach.

On the brink of perhaps America’s greatest 4-par stand a man and his son. The son is a man, too, has been for a while, but now it’s official. He’s turning 21 in a very different place, mentality and situation than his dad did 26 years before, and here, on the very edge of the West, it all becomes achingly clear that they’re moving through a sunlit moment that will never come their way again. Nor should it. Not like this.

The son swings first, 5-wood in hand, the green 205 yards away, downhill and across a churning ladle-ful of seawater scooped out by God Himself. Standing over his own ball 50 yards closer to the hole and shy of Pacific oblivion by maybe 10 paces, Dad watches his oldest of four kids — the man — as his ball soars over the near cliff, toward its target, with a seeing-eye fade. “Looking good, son!” he yells.

It ends up better than good, stopping about three steps onto the smallish green. “Oh yeah!” the son yelps with a leap, silhouetted against the ocean in a rush of unbelieving ecstasy only a golfer can understand. Dad jumps, too, and feels his hands head heavenward, then come together in a clap of pure pride. “Great shot!” he manages before turning away to let the tears come, if only for a split second.

Cliché or not, it truly doesn’t get any better than this. Not when it’s taken two decades to make this father-son trip happen, the first time they’ve been away from their hometown together, just the two of them, for more than a few hours. Not after divorce and remarriage, school and jobs, the aches and strains and setbacks and triumphs of life — accumulated memories that fleet breathlessly by, yet somehow form a continuum and keep the family intact. Not after all that has preceded this getaway on a day when Dad nears 50 and son rounds the bend toward his senior collegiate circuit.

Not when it all comes together on No. 8 at Pebble Beach, with the clock sliding past 5 o’clock and the marine layer slipping its fingers into the nooks and crannies of Carmel Bay. So the tears come, salty as the sea below. Tears of love for the game, for this fabled place where the game has been played for nearly 90 years … and, above all, for the son, Alex.

Dad looks up, as guys often do to stanch the tears, takes a couple of steps toward his beaming boy and says, “You know, we’ll remember this moment the rest of our lives.”

Alex smiles. “This is awesome.”

It was also a longshot. Pebble gets more than its share of ink, and rightly so. I doubt there’s one avid golfer in America who doesn’t know its layout by heart whether they’ve set foot on its storied flanks or not. So I shined on the standard-issue travel piece angle and appealed to something more visceral, with more soul. I went in knowing full well that the Pebble Beach power brokers had a soft spot for the whole father-son ethos — in fact, they’d put it at the center of a longstanding print and TV ad campaign. It took them a few weeks, but finally they bit on my idea of bringing Alex to the Peninsula for his 21st birthday, and giving the experience the good ol’ editorial blow-by-blow.

So here we were on a gorgeous afternoon in early August, walking in Jack and Tom and Tiger’s footsteps and retracing the path made by countless fathers and sons before us. And it all reached its apogee on No. 8 in a flurry of whoops and laughs and tears. Alex’s epic 5-wood must have inspired me; fighting the raw emotion of watching that shot and his priceless reaction, I stepped up to my own ball, took dead aim with a 7-iron and followed its left-to-right flight directly at the stick stuck at the rear of the “Figure 8” green. This could be pretty decent, I thought. The ball landed just to the left of the pin, took two hops into the rough behind the green and settled in for a certain trip to bogeyland.

Alex and I jumped into our cart sporting dizzy smiles. That feeling of warm disbelief affecting most Pebble pilgrims was settling in for the duration. We rounded No. 8’s lagoon and, taking one look at the abyss he’d just cleared, got all worked up again. “Oh, man! That might be the best shot I’ve ever hit!” he said, or something like it. It’s certainly the best shot I’ve ever seen him hit, and we’ve played our share of rounds together since he was around 11 — not even close to the number I wish we’d played over the years, if not for the general busyness of life and my own regrettable recalcitrance to reach out to those most close to me.

“Yeah, the last time I played here, I tripled this hole,” I said. “But not this time. We’re both in great shape.”

Still, par was a 50-50 proposition. After all, this is a hole where I sat during the breezy third round of the 2000 U.S. Open, watching plenty of guys go down to the pressure and elements. Monty took 7 out of the back bunker. Sergio went wide-right into the sea. Only Fred Couples managed a bird, draining a 15-footer from below the hole. So I was in solid company. I snapped a photo of Alex giving a thumbs-up over his ball, then went to mine and sized it up. The lie wasn’t good; the shot was downhill to a tight pin. But as I stood over the delicate wedge shot, I felt a cool calmness wash over me and pictured it as clearly as I could hear the surf 30 feet below. Alex’s putt had come up short, and I was away. Back went the wedge, through the deep stuff, into the ball … which fluttered out, grabbed the green and took a three-foot left turn into the cup. Birdie.

For the second time in one hole, I raised my arms and let out a whoop. This time, Alex cheered for me, as did Dave and Kyle, the two Canadian guys playing with us, and their laugh-a-minute caddie, Terry. The group on No. 9 tee right behind us — a family of grandpa, son, daughter-in-law and grandkids — must have thought we’d all gone nuts. Perhaps we had.

That’s cool. Playing Pebble can do that to a guy. I coulda cried again right there. This was getting good.

Alex ended up three-putting for a 5, but no matter. We’d just played one of the world’s most famous golf holes in even par, hit as fine a shots as we could manage under the circumstances, cleared that Pacific chasm as if it wasn’t there. And I stood at 1-over par for the front nine going into the brutal ninth. “A double or better and a I break 40,” I said to Alex. “Cool,” he replied.

Big mistake. The golf gods don’t take kindly to such “all I need to do” folly. I took triple, then a double on 10. Alex went 5-5, so overall he beat me by a pop on that storied trio of two-shotters. I was proud of him; it would amount to his best golf of the round. But then again, back on No. 1, as Alex verged on displaying the temper that mirrors my own, I proclaimed that we were there to have fun. “Forget about the score,” I said. “This is all about just being together and enjoying it.”

Yeah, we tallied the damage anyway, but no blowup could match our cigar-smoking, beer-sipping, joke-telling, fresh-air-gulping glee. Even when we both tripled No. 14, which was playing about 600 yards from the middle tees thanks to a stout north breeze, we laughed it off. Determined to finish before dark, we had our giddy good fortune to propel us. Alex hit another fantastic 5-wood at 15, this time converting for par. I made par at 16 and 17, the latter after rattling the stick out of the sand, Nicklaus-style. Then we all assembled on the final tee and stood there transfixed and humbled and silent, as if at an altar — which it most certainly is. Terry snapped our photo, arm in arm in the gloaming, the camera’s flash betraying our broad smiles of pride and undeniable, don’t-let-it-end sadness, while behind us the grand dame of American 5-pars swerved off to the left, toward the lights of the Lodge. That shot is now my laptop’s screensaver, and probably will be for life.

“You know,” Alex said at some point during our round, “A lot of guys I know celebrate their 21st out drinking, getting hammered.” I nodded, having been one of those very guys myself, in 1981, pub crawling through the well-documented party mecca of Chico, Calif., until I finished the festivities getting sewn up in the ER with a split lip and busted schnozz. “How many guys did you take on?” I remember the doctor asking me as I woke up from my self-induced fog. “Nobody,” I slurred. “Just a flight of stairs.”

That, and my own demons.

But Alex had no demons to wrestle on this day, except the occasional slice or cold-top, the normal golf devilry that afflicts us all.  “My buddies wouldn’t believe what I’m doing for my birthday,” he continued. “Not one of them will ever beat this.”

I must say, it was music to my ears, and the song just got sweeter as the day wore on. By nature I’m guardedly optimistic, but everything about this trip was surpassing expectations. Blowing them away, really. And we’d had four months to build them up into a thunderhead of anticipation.

When I sprung the idea on Alex — not just to celebrate his 21st, but to acknowledge his work ethic and high performance in college so far, with degrees in political science and perhaps economics or business in the offing — I gave him his choice: Pebble or Bandon. “Gotta be Pebble,” he said, so I made it happen. And though I’d originally planned a several-day jaunt to include perhaps Spyglass or Spanish Bay or both, we only had a scant 36 hours to live the dream. Alex had to be back to work. So we made the best of it. We did a killer warm-up round at Bayonet — the new nine is spectacular — then made for 17-Mile Drive the next morning. We stopped at Spanish Bay and the Lone Cypress, checked in at the Lodge, enjoyed a leisurely couple hours on the range, lunched at the Gallery Restaurant overlooking Pebble’s first tee, loitered around the shops, knocked around some putts on the practice green … and then it was finally, blessedly Our Turn.

Seventeen holes and five hours later, we forged our way up No. 18 as darkness bore down on us by the second. Alex’s tee shot found its way into Stillwater Cove; I followed him on my second shot, a wicked duck-hook 3-wood around the two trees that split the fairway. Alex knocked his third up the middle, took two more to reach the green and made 7. So did I, out of the deep bunker fronting the green’s left side. We holed out quickly and without fanfare, knowing several groups behind us wanted to finish, too. So we saved the handshaking and hugs for later, though, in a perfect world, I’d have held my son right there where, seven years earlier, I’d watched Jack Nicklaus tearfully hole his final U.S. Open putt. And we’d have stayed there in an unabashed, grateful embrace until they had to drag us off.

Then again, the night was young. Forty minutes removed from our 9 o’clock Tap Room reservation, we loaded our sticks in the car, grabbed our keys from the front desk and checked out our Lodge room just off the first tee and above the putting green — a mini-suite with two indescribably comfortable beds, a fireplace, flat-screen TV, balcony and palatial bathroom. My mind reeled at the possibilities: Maybe Jack stayed here. Arnie. Phil. Who knows?

Aw, hell no. Tonight, the Williams boys ruled, and we made the most of what Pebble Beach Resort had to offer on that cool, glorious Wednesday night. The Tap Room is everything a guys’ post-round hangout should be, and we worked it to the hilt. After regaling a couple of fellow golfers with the sketchy details of our round over drinks at the always three-deep bar, we dug into our meal in noisy splendor.

First came an appetizer of bacon-laden “haystack” potato skins, then steaks as big as my head (an unforgettable Delmonico for me and Filet Mignon for Alex), mashed potatoes, creamed spinach and mac and cheese, all presented with that cut-above Pebble touch that all too often gets overlooked in the presence of that little ol’ golf course just outside the door.

Alex and I shared wine duties, though in a clutch I’ll forever defer to his depth of knowledge and passion for the fruit; after working in a Reno restaurant for the past six years, at 21 he knows more about vintages than I ever will — in fact, I know he could ace the sommelier test tomorrow.

“We’ve gotta try the ’04 Joseph Phelps cab,” he said, so we did a glass each, toasting our good fortune, our shared love for golf and chow and drink and all the unspoken stuff, too. I couldn’t resist ordering a bottle of ’04 Chateauneuf du Pape, Vieux Telegraphe vintage — one that Alex had never tried (after all, this was only his 21st birthday, right?). He approved, then just as quickly upped the ante for our digestif, staying in the same year for a Fonseca tawny port. Capped with fresh coffee and a bit of dark chocolate cake, this wasn’t just a meal. It was the crescendo of an emotional, once-in-a-lifetime father-son symphony, arranged and performed on the best stage in the business.

The coda? Cigars and wine on the putting green, of course. We ran up to our room, grabbed our putters (we’d planned ahead) and lugged our stuffed and happy selves down the stairs and onto the surface where so many immortals have grooved their strokes. We mere mortals puffed and sipped and laughed from hole to hole, knocking our pills around in the dim light of the Pebble midnight. Then to bed, and the rest of our lives.

Looking back on that day and night, I know I’ve set the bar pretty high for Alex’s three younger sisters. I’ve gotta come up with 21st birthdays they’ll never forget, too. I’m game. But this one will always carry a glow of its own, bathing a man and his son in light and joy out there on No. 8, carrying them out of the rough, over the sea and across generations.

The post The Father-Son Magic Of Pebble Beach appeared first on Golf Tips Magazine.

from Golf Tips Magazine http://bit.ly/2I9EeHf

[shanyajain29]

Immortailis Part 2

Here is part two! Again, ignore the sleeping and few grammar errors.

After talking with James a bit(or Damian or whatever you want to call him), I realised that he hasn't been to Nice in the past centuary, so I volunteered to be his guide for the rest of his stay, after all I've been an avid vistor of Nice.

"So.... Where are we going?" He asked

"We're in Place Messena right now, I wanna show you around here, there is an amazing place for Pizza here," I answered.

We ducked under pillars and twisted and turned in the alley ways. I didn't look behind me to check for Damain. I could feel his presence behind me.

We went to Papa Reno's pizzeria where I ordered him a spicy Pepperoni pizza and a niçose salad.

He wolves down his food like he hadn't seen food in a few months

"Woah, slow down tiger," I said, slightly miffed at him.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "Haven't eaten anything all day."

" so...." he inquired. "How many times had your heart been broken?"

I was shocked at this question. I had just met this man and he asked such a personal question.

"I don't see how that's any of your business, Damian." I said with Venom.

My eyes flashed golden when I said his name which I realised I did whenever I felt any strong emotion. It must have really thrown him off because he had stop eating. He put his slice of pizza down as if it didn't taste good anymore.

"So-sorry," he stuttered " It's just that, somebody I knew just died... I thought you must feel the same way because you and I are the same...."

He frowned like he just remembered something

"And stop calling me that, that's not my name," he added

I ignored his last comment and spoke, looking him straight in the eye

" I know what you mean, it's been broken so many times I've forgotten. The first time is always the hardest... but it doesn't get much better after that."

Huh I thought. Here I am talking about my live life with a complete stranger who could be a lying psychopath who claims to be immortal. Can I trust him?

But it was easy talking to Damian. I did trust him.

He looked at me with pain in his eyes.

It grew dark as we finished our meal. The stars shone bright against the moonless night sky. Clouds swirled around in a circle. It seemed as if someone had removed the moon from the sky, leaving a hole in the fabric of the sky.

" then I ate a Buffalo and made love to your cat," he said non chalantly.

That snapped me out of my reverie and I started blushing furiously. He grinned at my sudden confusion.

"Sorry, lost in thought," I said sheepishly.

"S'okey Luce, I do that too, thinking about the sky huh? I love people who get excited over stars."

I was blushing than I was before, which probably made me look like I had a fever. I laughed nervously.

He laughed too. A clean laugh, with no melancholy in it.

I took a deep breadth and I could smell him. He smelt like after- shave and the sea. The wind toussled his already messy hair.

We walked till the promenade des angles where I sat down on the beach. It wasn't very comfortable because it was a pebble beach. I breathed in his scent and the smell of the sea.

Before I could say anything he dived into the story of his life, and before I knew It I was told him about mine too, but I stayed away from my real name. That was too personal.

As I was listening to his voice, I began to notice an eerie green air moving around me, descending from the void in the clouds. The air pressure dropped.

" NO!" He shouted.

" we have to get out of here now. They have found me."

"Who has found you?! " I demanded as he pulled me up.

"I haven't been completely honest with you...." he trailed off.

"I figured that. Now what is it?"

"Furia mala"

I screamed.