#rockslab
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gaoithe-whitegull · 28 days ago
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against trees, rockslabs. on blankets sand shuffled by wind and sunny breeze. in tents, hammock, close tight and rustling loudly clearly gasping into one mouth after another. seated at the fire i tended to breathy coals, throw another log in and watch all heat rise. like the sun on flushed cheeks. how high could it//we climb, i’d never not feel hands touching reaching me holding steady nearby. fingers textured tangled in nape hairs. wet our mouths from the same vessel, catch the drips before they fall with thumbs with tongue. everyone knows, waste not party fouler with a playful wink of eye and charmed toothy smile in exchange
july’24
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jw-movvon · 10 months ago
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Feast in Style: Unleash the Beauty of Natural Rock Slab Dining! Elevate your dining experience like never before as we unleash the mesmerizing beauty of rock slab tables! Learn more from us: www.movvon.com WhatsApp: 008613676711661 Call/Wechat: 008618566878661 Email: [email protected] #diningtable #rockslab #diningroom #cozyhome #homedecor #interior #homedesign #interiordesign #homeinterior #designtrends
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sumraf-international · 4 years ago
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This is a fabulous plate made of Himalayan salt that can be used for enhancing the taste of hot or cold foods.
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For Himalayan Salt Products import/wholesale inquiries:
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www.sumraf.com
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the-person-of-the-screen · 3 years ago
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Snow
Soft dirt with grass
Forest floor
Smooth rockslabs
Ice
Wet sand
Sand
Average dirt
Cracked dirt
Wet dirt
Mud
Sharp rocks
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mtbswitzerland · 4 years ago
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Heute gibt es eine Extra Portion #rockslabs #mtbswizterland via 📯@arc8bicycles 📷@rogergruetter 🚵‍♂️@noelniederberger & @felixgklee #mtb #mtbgram #mtblife #mountainbike #mtbenduro #mtblifestyle #allmountainbike #allmountainstyle #enduromtb #vitalmtb #mountainbiking #mountainbikinglife #flowtrail #lifeofadventure #liveoutdoors https://instagr.am/p/CLXbuPljqaO/
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boneswhisper · 5 years ago
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I'll never understand my home town.
there were six businesses, that no matter what, no one was allowed inside, yet they still were in businesses. an old warehouse with rockslabs piled haphazardly out front and a smiley face on the side, I only saw an old large man wearing the same blue jeans, red flannel and black dress shoes, he drove a pickup, no one ever knew his name. there was a home that was rotten and falling over, I always saw black shapes going by the windows, I was labeled crazy. there was a super old abandoned school what looked like it was ripped out of a DC movie, it had fought fore six times, the outside was covered in graffiti, twice I saw a black goat with fire spilling from its mouth, there was only two known goats in all of the town, owned by my great aunte, they were white and tan with brown eyes, both of them. a voice called out to me most nights a week, it would call my name loud enough to shake my house, only I could hear it, it followed me. when I slept with the door open a tall man in a black suit would watch me sleep, he was very pale and his arms were disproportionately long. when the door was closed a man in a trench coat would hide behind my book shelf. when the window was uncovered I would see faces I cant describe that watched me. when it was covered I could still feel their gaze. I could never sleep without a blanket, even when it was in the middle of summer, I woke to vomit from the heat often. my school never questioned why I would vomit some morning, or why I often when to the nurse from a bleeding nose. she never questioned me, no one did. I was alone, always alone, I can still feel the cold gazes of not real people from my school, they watch me. they hated me, me who could see what they refused to see. I was protected, but so unsafe
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prairieraven · 7 years ago
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Slabbin de bass RODE MY FIRST ROCK SLAB EVER!!!! ON MAH BERFDAY!!! HOLYSWEETTESTICLES I FEEL AMAZING!!!! . . . #bikesarerad #rockslab #buttpuckerfactorwasatasolid4 #cooterpunchhappenedlater #iseriouslyneedadropperpost #bestbirthdaygift #slabbindebass (at Whistler, Canada)
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rock2wrap · 4 years ago
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#marcasite what a freaking fabulous gemstone Edit... This Marcasite is from #indonesia Colored Agate. Pyrite Suns. Fabulous! . . . #rockslab #slabs #rarecrystals #rareminerals #california #californian #gemsandminerals #mineralspecimen #mineralsofig #instacrystals — view on Instagram https://ift.tt/3h3WaTj
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You balance comfortably on the blade’s edge between awake and asleep.
Eridan is surrounding you, not even vaguely ashamed of how touchy he’s being. His touch lingers longer than it’s needed, leaving featherbeast-bumps on your skin. You let him touch your bare neck and belly without protest, exhaustion serving as a suitable substitute for trust.
He seems enamored by your body; your mutation must be a novelty that even a seadweller would be fascinated by. Or disgusted, when the newness of your blood ran dry.
The thought has attempted to nudge its way into your thinkpan more than few times since Eridan’s having rescuing, a conscious anxiety towards the unreadable ticking clock on your bloodpush.
You’re starting to realize that worrying about the future is a strange novelty when you’ve always had to focus on surviving the present.
You wake up like starch-cake syrup comes out of the bottle: in little bits with no sense of hurry.
The first time, your eyes don’t even open. You’re immensely comfortable, and the cool something surrounding you spells out “Safety” in your thinkpan like bubble-wrap and a suit of armor.
You curl your limbs inward a little tighter, your arms clutching the comfortable coolness like a fresh-hatched with their lusus. That feels good, your brain sleepily notices. You fumble to get your legs lodged around the feeling too. When you’re done, you fall back under without a further thought.
The second time, you wake to the unmistakable feeling of being watched. You feel a faint twinge of annoyance at that, because whatever you’re floating in is as comfortable as ever; opening your eyes seems an excessive labor.
You keep your eyes closed and stubbornly feign sleep.
But the itching feeling on your eyelids doesn’t relent, and as your foggy thinkpan becomes more awake, you seem to remember the dangers of being watched.
Your eyes open, and then immediately close again in a flinch.
The coolness surrounding you grips you under the arms and thrusts you to the surface. Hands, you register.
Staring down Eridan Ampora while sitting buck-naked in a too-big recooperacoon is a far weirder situation than your thinkpan is equipped to deal with on a short notice.
A moment passes and then he’s howling, hunched over and feigning wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.
“It’s not that funny.” You say, mostly because you’re at a loss at what else to do. Eridan just laughs harder.
“You, you-“ He struggles to get out the words between snickers. “You opened your-hmmph, opened your eyes...in the sopor!” He flicks his claws towards his eyes and suppresses another cackle.
“I don’t usually do that.” You say, which is immediately evident as being the worst defense possible.
“Of course you don’t, Kar.” He replies playfully. You don’t reply.
You’re looking at Eridan, really looking, and sure, you’d seen him without glasses plenty of times, he liked to take them off when on the husktop, but it’s weird seeing him without his hair gel or his rings. His hair appears to develop loose ringlets when wet, and they crowd out the dignified angles of his face.
Maybe if you ignored the gills, let the curls round him out, kept his mouth closed-
Well. Maybe he could even look like someone you would know.
You get the urge to playfully flip his purple streak over his face, but your arms are still mostly numb and buried in sopor and he’s so tall that you dismiss the thought.
Eridan is now leaning against his side of the recooperacoon, watching you silently.
The pleasant cloudiness is evaporating from your thinkpan and the situation becomes increasingly unbearable as it does.
You try to instinctively hide in your clothes, only to be reminded of your own lack of them.
Everything below your biceps is still in the sopor, deep in a sluggish numbness. The disconnect is disconcerting, between your head and your body. Maybe it could be pleasant if you grew accustomed to it, but right now you feel like the captain of a punctured vessel, losing soldiers to the void of space every moment.
Eridan smiles, and there’s something sharp behind it. You don’t meet his eyes. You imagine yourself looking up, and him cutting into you, you bleeding and falling to pieces without him ever moving his claws.
He’s running his claws gently over the top layer of your hair. You know it’ll stick up ever more than usual at that, covered in cooling slime, but Eridan doesn’t seem to care. A kiss is pressed to the top of your skull.
Your eyes dart upwards for a split second, just long enough to see the pearly flash of his teeth as his licks his lips clean.
The shark’s grin he gives you when he catches you glancing leaves no doubt to his intentions. You get the urge to dive under the slime (There’s definitely enough of it, you don’t think you ever used this much in a half-sweep) and never rise. But there’s a nervous fear settling into your thinkpan, a memory of you opening your eyes and his arms hooking you, pulling you up-
Eridan seems to be in an exceptionally good mood. He swings himself over the side of the recooperacoon in one motion, and you avert your eyes to avoid looking at his lower half. You don’t have to look at him to know he’s rolling his eyes.
There’s a type of smooth carpeting around the coon’, and it soaks up the sopor that Eridan’s departure leaves. The greenish color fades into white, becoming immaculate again.
There must be a recycling process, a sort of chamber underneath where the sopor is gathered and reused. It’s the fanciest fucking thing you hadn’t known existed. In your hive, you had just stepped into an old metal pan and dumped it back in after wringing as much as possible from your hair and skin to reuse.
The drones couldn’t have built it, couldn’t have built anything in this ship, you realize.
Everything Eridan had was a million tiny pieces put together, a far cry from the concrete hives that had dotted the plains of your life.
You imagine tiny gray hands carving and welding and polishing; when you swaddle yourself in a towel and step out of the coon, your thinkpan conjures the prick of tiny bones against your feet.
You notice Eridan’s wandered into an adjacent room. The doorway casts a sliver of white light on the floor, dissolving back into darkness before it reaches your corner of the room.
It’s your first moment alone since Ascension day, without Eridan’s gaze on your skin.
You unwrap the towel to scrub the slime from your skin and hair, taking advantage of the moment of privacy. Afterwards, you wring the towel into the carpet, watching it disappear.
As you step into the light of the doorway where Eridan had disappeared, the change in light makes your vision sting. The daze of the sopor is staying past its due in your limbs and thinkpan.
You lean against the doorway, blinking in the light and feeling the cool shock of tile underneath your walkpads. You take in the ablution block, noting with unease that you didn’t recognize at least half the devices strewn about the block.
Eridan is whistling and palming gel into his hair. His rings are scattered across the rockslab like veins of gold in a glittering cliff-face.
“Kar!” He beams into his own reflection in the reflection disk, or perhaps at the other you he sees in the background of the image.
You linger, frozen, in the doorway. The bright lights reflect off the twinkling surface of the block, imparting the feeling of being a hoofbeast in the headlights of an impending shuttle.
He waits for a moment before drumming his nails on the rockslab and huffing petulantly.
Eridan has contorted his face into a caricature of pitiful need. He widens his eyes and implores your presence with his hands.
Eridan pulls you towards him and clutches you like he’s trying to become one. His chin is nestled in the messy nest of your hair and his arms absorb you into his chest. Through his thin shirt, you can feel his cool epidermia, the layers of muscle, his ribs, and rising to the surface of it all, the beat of his bloodpusher against your cheek. It beats at an icy fever pace to the pattern of your tremulous breath.
“You’re going to havve to be on your owwn for a wwhile today.” Eridan mumbles reluctantly into your hair. His tone seems to suggest that incredulously, he guinely considers moment not in your abrasive presence despicable prospect.
You think, not for the first time, that Eridan must be batshit fucking crazy. Maybe all highbloods were. It actually seemed pretty likely, now that you thought about the highbloods you had known.
There isn’t a thrill at the prospect of time alone, of being on a looser leash for a while. There’s mostly just more of that leaden feeling making itself a hive in your guts. Eridan’s a seadweller, but’s he’s your friend, your morail, you guess, but mostly he’s the only island of familiarity in the ascended void of space.
As you dress into a shiny violet shirt and pants, which you can’t constitute as clothes more than thin cloth made for lounging in the purgatory between sleep and activity, as your bare feet are lead down the hallway of movie glimpses, as Eridan leaves you in an extravagantly comfortable and unfamiliar living block, as you’re left alone for the first time in two days. Well. You start to realize when Eridan’s a block away, it feels like it might as well be an uncharted galaxy.
@are-u-kitten-me-right-meow
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ashnadir · 7 years ago
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thisbrutalbelle:
        Admittedly, it had been a hard wake up for Bellamy. Miles had his kids, Ephram was likely with Freddie, Teddy was probably with Otto or content to arise alone, Iann obviously had Tuah. Part of her wished she had perhaps planned a girls night, invited people like Elena and Lina over, they could have had a girly breakfast and gone about their days. Maybe she’d keep that in mind for next year so she was not rising with only Boss beside her. If not for her plans that day Bellamy might have not even removed herself from the bed, to be alone on one of her favourite holidays would have been too hard. So instead she busied herself until Iann’s arrival by playing in her closet and doing her make-up. The green glittery cut crease Christmas look to her eyes showing just that.
          Once he was there she felt herself relax, feel less alone, even if her tightened muscles and hard posture indicated it was a feeling that lingered. Conversation about work and the short trip she had taken to Austin with her mother was nice though and slowly that loneliness disappeared like warm snow. Like Iann work was busy and kept her mostly pre-occupied and the trip with her mother had been both lovely and grueling which she suspected Iann understood having met Louise. Unfortunately she kept asking what happened to her ex, why wasn’t he around, why would she have to meet someone new if they weren’t even dating. All of this and she informed Iann that she had yelled at Miles’ father on Thanksgiving, the strong reaction of Miles to his father degrading the both of them resulting in them being kicked out. She settled it all with a cuddle of Boss and a comment on how it would surely not go so badly here.
          “It’s much cuter than I imagined,” she noted. It was weird to imagine dudes coming up to such a house ready to get down. Why had she imagined it all brown, lawn and all? This really was what she did. Projected. Created false little tales in her head so she felt connected to people instead of actually connecting. Well, she was trying more now. Boss in arm she stepped out when Iann opened her door. The dog curled up on her chest. He’d run around the van when he’d first been let in but had rather decided he had exhausted himself. “Would you grab the gifts?” she asked him.
           Bellamy laughed a little as she stood by the van, eyes returning to his home. “Definitely think I’ll do better in a less conventional environment,” she admitted. Miles home had been one imagined of parents to someone Miles age, a mother who tried desperately but weakly and a father who grunted out every second word when he spoke at all. The traditional way Miles was often confused Bellamy, in her mind tradition was so often mixed with falsehoods. Some she could take, like the concept of Christmas, everyone knew Christmas was fake while others, like not wanting to talk about sex with people outside of them, just felt like a form of lying because it kept people unaware. “Do you think they’ll like me?” she checked as she breathed in the cold air hard, still, obviously, nervous. They were still people after all, they could decide they disliked her.
"Yeah, it’s good we’re so remote.  The city itself is about a 30-minute drive away?  I used to bicycle down there in about 45 minutes.”  Iann gave a wry snort.  “Plus this is Portland, pretty much every house in this city is practically required to have ‘charm’.  Even the illegal brothel up the hill that no one talks about, haha.”  
He helped Bellamy with the gifts, carrying them in one-hand while he placed his other hand on the back of Bellamy’s shoulders.  Only now, outside of Soapberry where normal things in the supernatural town seemed weird everywhere else, Iann noticed how scantily Bellamy was dressed for winter.  Her bare legs and high heels.  He was going to be reprimanded for letting her dress so coldly, Iann knew it.
“Come along,”  he said, letting Bellamy go up the rockslab stairs but keeping close to her as they got to the porch.  Iann just opened the door, expecting it to be unlocked.
“Hey!!!  It’s me,” he called out, putting the gifts on a side table in the hall so he could shuck off his jacket.  “I brought my friend!”
There was a beat of silence, and then noise from upstairs and also a clanging in the kitchen.  Two people started talking at once.
“Iiiiaaannnnnn!”  Aunt Daisy called from the top of the stairs, scurrying down to greet him.  She wasn’t dressed much more than Bellamy, a tiny Vietnamese woman with a huge black bun of hair piled on her head.  She was wearing a shift dress and she was barefeet.  Iann took off his own shoes, and motioned at Bellamy.
“You can keep yours on if you like, but I’ll clean the mud off them first,” he told Bellamy right as Aunt Daisy threw herself on him for a hug.  
At the same time, Aunt Jasmine hollered back from the kitchen.  “I’m in here,  Poppy’s gone to get some groceries, Iann!  Make sure to help her when she gets back.  Your Aunt won’t be here for a few hours.”
“Okay, Auntie,”  Iann said complacently, putting Aunt Daisy down.  She was about as petite as Bellamy, and Aunt Daisy hugged her too.  
“This is your girlfriend? Your wife?  Iannnnnnnn this isn’t another wife is it??”  she asked in some tutting alarm.  “You marry the blondes only Iann?? What happened to your other one, Iannnnn what did you do?”
“No - ah - no, Aunt Daisy she’s just my friend.  My wife - my wife, she died,”  Iann said, realizing he’d never...actually...told his Aunts about what happened to his young wife, other than Aunt Fifi.  And Iann doubted Fifi communicated this with the brothel Aunts.  Whoops. He looked down at Bellamy in apology for all this confusion.  “This is Bellamy, she’s my friend.”
“Girlfriend?”
“No, no, just a friend.”
“Oh Iann,”  Aunt Daisy kept holding gently onto Bellamy after their hug, but she was looking up at Iann.  She reached out and pet his stomach.  “I’m so sorry baby.  Stupid baby, not telling me anythinnnnnnng!  Poor baby, oh, poor baby.”
“It’s been a while, I’m okay now, Auntie,” Iann said quietly. There was a moment of silence that just seemed right, and then he motioned to Bellamy.  “Anyway, Bellamy’s just a friend.”
“Bell-errr...” Daisy said doubtfully.
“Bellamy.  Bell-ah-mee,” Iann repeated.
“Bell-ammy, ahhh!  Bell-ammy, so pretty! Such a pretty little girl!  So cold too, Iannnn, why do you keep her so cold!?”
“She likes being --!”  Iann protested, but Aunt Daisy was already shuffling Bellamy to the kitchen.
“Come on baby Bell-ammy, get warm!  Come meet your Aunties!  I am Daisy,” she announced, as if Iann hadn’t introduced her.  “Iannnnnnnn go clean her shoes!”
Iann hoped Bellamy wasn’t internally freaking out; he realized he probably should’ve tried to prepare the little vampire better for the whirlwind that was Aunt Daisy, with her tiny but loud voice and her...well.  Her gregarious ways.  He really just hoped that Bellamy wasn’t getting overwhelmed from all of this unexpected attention and un-anticipated activity.  Iann was used to the unpredictability of his Aunts, but he knew Bellamy didn’t do well with other poeple’s unpredictability.  
He fetched Bellamy’s shoes (Bellamy really didn’t have a choice but to relinquish them to him) and Iann quickly brushed his fingers against her back.  “Are you going to be okay?”  ‘Please be okay,’ his liquid dark eyes said silently, as he asked aloud.
christmas 2017
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onecutmedia · 6 years ago
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Beautiful Day for a Ride in Squamish. Took a different line down In N Out Burger. Video in the next post #onecutmedia #innoutburger #innout #squamish #squamishbc #mtbbc #mtb #mtblife @goprocanada #hero7black @selfskie mounted on the chin #chinmount @sqmtb @squamishbikes #sorca #squamishbikes - - - - - - - - - #rocknroll #slabsofsquamish #rockslabs #granite #gripy (at Squamish, British Columbia) https://www.instagram.com/p/BxTQmIPhT3Z/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=ifizecnekjn6
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earthblingg · 9 years ago
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Rhodochrocite
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prairieraven · 7 years ago
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Slabbin de bass RODE MY FIRST ROCK SLAB EVER!!!! ON MAH BERFDAY!!! HOLYSWEETTESTICLES I FEEL AMAZING!!!! . . . #bikesarerad #rockslab #buttpuckerfactorwasatasolid4 #cooterpunchhappenedlater #iseriouslyneedadropperpost #bestbirthdaygift #slabbindebass (at Whistler, Canada)
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Nice one shot by @rustylong. #tgif #Scotland #surf #rockslab #beoceanminded
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jw-movvon · 1 year ago
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Function dining table:Perfect Harmony of Form & Function! Discover the ultimate blend of elegance and practicality with our Function dining table,that will add a touch of sophistication to your space. Learn more from us Alibaba shop : www.movvon.com WhatsApp: 008613676711661 Call/Wechat:008618566878661 Email: [email protected] #functiondiningtable #perfectharmony #diningtable #rounddiningtable #diningroom #furniturefactory #,commercialfurniture #rockslab #homedecor #interiordesign
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onecutmedia · 4 years ago
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And the gnar never ends 🤟 - Double Black fun on the Pleasure Trail in Squamish BC It’s one of our toughest trails. But what makes it a double black? - YouTube Video coming soon on why trails are rated what they are rated? - It’s a bit of a mystery to most, including myself 🤷‍♂️ - #doubleblacktrails #onecutmedia #pleasuretrail #squamishmtb #onecutmediamtb #mountainbike #mountainbiking #mountainbiketrails - - - - #onlyinsquamish #keepsquamishjanky #jank #janky #janktrails #blacktrails #black #rideyourbike #doomthespot #rockslabs #slabsofsquamish #mtbbc - - #rideyourbike (at Ladders) https://www.instagram.com/p/CEUFVn4nBlV/?igshid=1auarc1bu6ddc
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