tile works

The Complex Geometry of Islamic Design

In Islamic culture, geometry is everywhere. You can find it in mosques, madrasas, palaces and private homes. This tradition began in the 8th century CE during the early history of Islam, when craftsman took preexisting motifs from Roman and Persian cultures and developed them into new forms of visual expression. 

This period of history was a golden age of Islamic culture, during which many achievements of previous civilizations were preserved and further developed, resulting in fundamental advancements in scientific study and mathematics. Accompanying this was an increasingly sophisticated use of abstraction and complex geometry in Islamic art, from intricate floral motifs adorning carpets and textiles, to patterns of tile work that seemed to repeat infinitely, inspiring wonder and contemplation of eternal order.

 Despite the remarkable complexity of these designs, they can be created with just a compass to draw circles and a ruler to make lines within them, and from these simple tools emerges a kaleidoscope multiplicity of patterns. So how does that work? Well, everything starts with a circle. The first major decision is how will you divide it up? Most patterns split the circle into four, five or six equal sections. And each division gives rise to distinctive patterns. 

There’s an easy way to determine whether any pattern is based on fourfold, fivefold, or sixfold symmetry. Most contain stars surrounded by petal shapes. Counting the number of rays on a starburst, or the number of petals around it, tells us what category the pattern falls into. A star with six rays, or surrounded by six petals, belongs in the sixfold category. One with eight petals is part of the fourfold category, and so on. 

There’s another secret ingredient in these designs: an underlying grid. Invisible, but essential to every pattern, the grid helps determine the scale of the composition before work begins, keeps the pattern accurate, and facilitates the invention of incredible new patterns. Let’s look at an example of how these elements come together. 

We’ll start with a circle within a square, and divide it into eight equal parts. We can then draw a pair of criss-crossing lines and overlay them with another two. These lines are called construction lines, and by choosing a set of their segments, we’ll form the basis of our repeating pattern. 

Many different designs are possible from the same construction lines just by picking different segments. And the full pattern finally emerges when we create a grid with many repetitions of this one tile in a process called tessellation.

By choosing a different set of construction lines, we might have created this any of the above patterns. The possibilities are virtually endless.  

We can follow the same steps to create sixfold patterns by drawing construction lines over a circle divided into six parts, and then tessellating it, we can make something like the above.

Here’s another sixfold pattern that has appeared across the centuries and all over the Islamic world, including Marrakesh, Agra, Konya and the Alhambra. 

Fourfold patterns fit in a square grid, and sixfold patterns in a hexagonal grid. 

Fivefold patterns, however, are more challenging to tessellate because pentagons don’t neatly fill a surface, so instead of just creating a pattern in a pentagon, other shapes have to be added to make something that is repeatable, resulting in patterns that may seem confoundingly complex, but are still relatively simple to create. 

This more than 1,000-year-old tradition has wielded basic geometry to produce works that are intricate, decorative and pleasing to the eye. And these craftsman prove just how much is possible with some artistic intuition, creativity, dedication along with a great compass and ruler.

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my daily to-do lists are shorter this summer because i’m working full time, so i’m experimenting with spreads a little. last week’s was “3 things i’m proud i accomplished each day.”

4

Vank Cathedral in Isfahan, Iran.

 The Vank Cathedral was established by the Armenian community which is still present in modern-day Isfahan. The church was built in the mid 1600s and the interior is covered with fine paintings and tiled work depicting events from the life of Jesus as well as the torture inflicted upon Armenian martyrs at the hands of the Ottomans

“I like watching her get excited about things. She has a very distinct look when amazement comes over her face. Like she gets really excited about dachshunds. I always text her pictures of dachshunds. Or the tile work at the 81st street subway station. She loves that. Or warm socks. I mean… warm socks are kind of exciting to me. But she really loves warm socks.”

feels so good to have sivi back in my arms. honestly it just feels wrong to not have him with me. my mental illness has been so manageable and almost even unnoticeable since i brought him home. i’ve thought of having him become an ESA, but i feel so weird/guilty about it. the only ESAs i’ve ever come across weren’t at all needed by their owners, or they were fake. i don’t feel that i NEED an ESA……..it’s just my symptoms have been nonexistent with sivi in my life! (i mean, as long as i’ve stayed medicated too……)

anonymous asked:

Hmn this might be werid but I'm in the mood for angst, rfa + minor trio(MY baes) somehow injurying mc really badly maybe even leaving a permanent scar or something, if they were in an argument or etc, happy or bad ending u'r choice abd it's okay if u don't do this if it makes u uncomfortable

Oh my God this killed me, I deleted it over four times on accident!

This deleted over three times, and I almost had a mental breakdown, then my power was out before, sorry for the wait.Omg I’m so sorry for being so behind, I lost power for over 24 hours, and then I typed everything up and my computer crashed and it all deleted. I don’t mean to make up excuses. I’m so sorry! Anyway yeah, I’m not sure how good it’s going to be, but I hope you’ll like it!!!!
Zen
• He knew he wasn’t supposed to do it
• He knew it was bad for him, that it could very well kill him
• He was going good so far, he hadn’t smoked in two months, and hadn’t gotten too drunk in about six weeks
• You were happy about that, and honestly, he was pretty proud of himself
• But one day it happened
• He slipped, and all descended into Hell
• He had lost a role he’d been preparing for weeks to a man who he hated
• And his friends managed to convince him to go out and get a drink
• Well one turned into five
• And a cigarette
• Or two
• It was a miracle he managed to drag himself home, but when he did he sort of lost it
• And not in a good way
• You were waiting for him, after a crap ton of missed calls, and the pictures on the messenger
• You were ready to give him some Advil, put him to bed, and the next day to spend around eight hour lecturing him on the dangers of smoking
• But it didn’t exactly go that way
• When you saw the state he was in you kinda snapped
• A shouting match ensued
• “You’re going to kill yourself!!”
• “You’re just being over protective and stuck up, besides, what if I don’t care?”
• “You take that back right now!”
• “Why should I?!”
• Eventually he picked up a plate on the counter and chucked it
• He wasn’t aiming anywhere in particular, and it wouldn’t’ve mattered he was so drunk
• But the pieces of porcelain, along with what smashed on the grounds when he wildly grabbed it, were stuck in you
• In your shoulder, your ankles
• You bit your lip, fighting back the screams of pain as your body burned with the shrapnel-like pain of something being thrown at you at a fast rate, before lodging itself in you, still glistening with cleaning solution
• You ran out, leaving Zen with his thoughts
• In his drunken state he didn’t notice, he just slinked off to bed, falling into a coma-like sleep the minute his head hit the pillow
• When he woke up at first he didn’t remember
• Rolling over to hug you he noticed the bed was empty
• At first his thoughts were confused through the headache and haze of his hangover
• Hangover…
Shit!
• He ran into the kitchen to see the remains of what happened last night
• Immediately he freaked out, calling Jumin, Seven, Jaehee, before finally clicking on your number
• The phone rang about five times, and he was in panic, when finally, finally, you answered
• “Hello?”
• He almost sobbed with relief
• “Jagi! I’m so sorry for what I did, oh my goodness are you hurt, where is it? Please I’m so sorry!”
• The line goes silent for a few seconds and Zen thinks you’re going to hang up
• “Zen, I’m happy that you’re okay. I am currently in the hospital. The porcelain is out, they were worried about infection due to the cleaning solution, but they can now say that is not going to happen. If you just wanted to know my vitals then I’ll be going.”
• Your voice sounds like a flat instrument, the ends dipping down into something, and something unpleasant.
• “Jagi, please, I know, I made a mistake, and I get it, you can leave if you want. Just please, please don’t hate me forever. That would break me.”
• You listen on the phone
• “Fine Zen, I’ll talk later, I have to talk more to the nurse. See you, bye.”
• The line dies
• When you’re released from hospital a few days later Zen notices the scars that trace your arm and ankle’s, the one on your arm slightly yellow, scabbed at odd places, the holes from vaccines and IUDs vivid against the dull purple
• He acts so fragile around you
• And though you don’t like to admit it, that breaks you a bit inside
• So you agree to stay
• As long as he gets help
• He nods
• He did something wrong, and you will always have the scars to prove it
• Not him, because sometimes we don’t hurt ourselves, instead we pin our crimes on others
• And he knows that now
• The day you move back into the apartment, over a year later, he is waiting patiently, the pieces of glass still in a box, buried deep in his closet that acted as his own reminder

Yoosung
• Okay, this one was an accident
• Yoosung had been holed up at the library for over twelve hours, agonizing over finals
• He looked more dead than alive tbh
• So when he dragged his way home he wasn’t exactly thinking straight
• You were cooking beef soup on the stove, waiting patiently for him to come home
• “MC…..”
• He stumbled in, bag falling immediately to the floor
• You smiled softly, then went back to your work
• “Yoosung, hwo about you go take a bath, dinner will be ready in a bit!”
• “Ahh, but MC! I’m too tired, let’s cuddle!”
• He went to hug you, but you carefully pried him away
• “After dinner Yoosung, it’s important for you to eat.”
• “But MC!! Dinner isn’t that important!”
• He lunged towards you, going to hug you, but somehow knocked you back
• The broth feel on your elbow, which in turned rammed into the fire, touching the gas distributor
• Your survival skills kicked in, and you managed to get the fire off yourself, but not without screaming in massive pain, feeling like your flesh was dying, eaten away quickly like in those old movies
• Yoosung immediately sprung into action
• Turning the stove off he ran towards his phone and called an ambulance
• When they got there and he explained it the medics just shook their head
• He felt ashamed
• He waited outside the room as they operated on your arm, managing to put some sort of fake skin on it, that would attach to the cells and act like actual skin
• It was the latest technology, but Yoosung couldn’t help but worry
• When you were finally allowed visitors he rushed in and held onto your good hand tightly
• “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
• The tears streamed from his face onto your palm
• You just smiled softly
• “It’s okay, I’ll be fine, there’ll always be a bit of a dark patch, some burn scars, but after some rehab my right arm should be completely functional again.”
• You tried to keep your tone light and airy, but Yoosung could still hear the pain behind the words, the heavy breathing tearing at his heart
• Even when you were released he still babied you
• You were put to bed, and he was getting everything ready
• In the process he pulled up your sleeve somehow
• He immediately began to cry
• The scar was massive!
• Wrapping around your arm, and patchwork of hues, ones that would never fade
• “Yoosung.”
• Your voice snapped him out of himself and he realized he was crying again
• “I don’t care about how it looks. I’m happy that we’re both safe and there was no true long term damage. So please don’t cry, when you do it makes me so unhappy.”
• He put on a brave face for you, but when you were asleep he kissed the bruise lightly, whispered I’m sorry, and fell asleep to the tears in his eyes

Jaehee
• You guys had planned this date weeks ahead
• You two were so excited
• Until Jaehee bought a ticket for herself to go see one of Zen’s plays
• The same day
• Not even two, no, one
• You were obviously upset
• You two had been talking excitedly about it for weeks, it was going to be special
• It was your anniversary after all
• So why did she do that?
• You ended up confronting her about it
• And a screaming match ensued
• “Do you not enjoy my company or something?!”
• “Maybe I’m just getting tired-”
• “Of who, me?!”
• It was going back and forth
• Until a coffee withdrawal-ed Jaehee threw a vase at you
• The glass shattered against your face and lodged itself into your eyelid, barely missing the iris
• But you still knew there was trouble
• You resisted the urge to touch it, but not the urge to screaming bloody murder as you grabbed your phone and ran
• When Jaehee could see past what had just happened she immediately panicked
• Dribing to the hospital, she called Jumin, Seven, and Yoosung by the time she reached there
• When Zen was there she didn’t so much as acknowledge his existence
• Finally, after agonizing hours they were done
• Your vision couldn’t be saved
• The RFA let you two have a moment alone once they were done surrounding you
• Jaehee kneeled next to your bed and began crying
• She apologized again and again
• You just sat there listening, your eye now slightly white with film, a scar weaving its way around the gap
• When she was done you began
• “It’s good that you learned your lesson…”
• He head picked up in surprise
• “…That was you won’t make the same mistake with your next loved one.”
• She began crying again, and you just tapped the assist button and rolled over
• The day that you were released she came over with some flowers
• But you were already gone
• It had been years since she had seen you
• Seven refused to tell her your location
• All she knew was that you were in France
• She waited for you every night
• The only night you came was the night she left this world

Jumin
• You two were so excited to work on this small cottage
• And you of course insisted that you two work on at least part of it together
• It was a sunny, hot day, and Jumin was working on the tiling, while you worked on some of the piping
• “I’m so excited!” You squealed cheerfully
• He smiled gently at you
• “Yes, it’s going to be the best vacation home anyone has ever seen.”
• You smiled brightly
• That smile lit up his world, you were his torch in the darkness, a spirit leading him out of what once had been darkness
• He still couldn’t believe the ring you wore on your finger, the fact that you had said yes
• “Hey Jumin, could you pass me the wrench.”
• Absentmindedly he picked up the metal object
• And chucked it at you
• It hit your forehead with a thud as you knocked on the ground
• Blood was trickling down your head, and your vision was fuzzy
• A concussion was almost certain
• Jumin’s head whipped up when he heard you fall, and he immediately drove you to the hospital
• It was indeed a concussion, and the scar was unrepairable
• He was beside himself in guilt
• Watching intently as they patched you up
• It took them about three hours before he could see you
• Your neck was in a brace, and the scar was read, the skin sunk in slightly, no wider than a paint brush
• He kissed it softly before apologizing profusely
• You laughed slightly, despite the pain
• “It’s okay, but, um, what the heck were we doing.”
• You had forgot the 24 hours up to when it happened
• He carefully explained everything to you, and you listened
• He felt bad about it every time he saw your scar
• But you assured him that it didn’t matter, what a concussion and a small scar in the grand scheme of things
• Eventually he got over his guilt
• And when you two had children of your own one of his favorite stories to tell them is about how their mother defeated a giant metal dragon

Saeyoung/Seven
• It was torture trying to push you away for him
• And for you too
• But you kept pushing, and pushing
• You just couldn’t give up
• He would hear your sobs through the thin walls, and agonize over the pain he was giving you
• But it was for the best
• Wasn’t it?
• One day was especially bad
• “Don’t get near me.” He kept insisting
• But you kept pushing it
• Eventually he stopped thinking
• Shutting down he shoved you into a wall, hard
• The room echoed with a crack, amplified to the sound of a gunshot
• His façade immediately disappeared when he saw your curling up around your limp arm, your face scratched, the blood sticking in your hair
• He scooped you up, running towards his car, asking over and over if you were okay
• You were crying into his chest, the pain running through your blood, your ears ringing and your vision half fizzed out
• He rushed you to the hospital, and stayed there the whole time
• When he was allowed to see you he rushed in
• Your arm is in a cast, the bruise climbing up around your joint
• Apparently your arm also popped out of its socket
• He apologized over and over
• And you just said
• “I’m happy you don’t hate me.”
• After a few weeks in hospital, you had an infection and it took a bit longer that expected
• He helps you get into your house, where you immediately go to your room
• After a while he knocks on your door and joins you
• You’re snuggling under a bunch of covers and it takes a few minutes top pop your head out
• You smile at him
• “I’m so happy you don’t hate me.”
• “No MC, I could never hate you.”
• He kissed you lightly on the forehead
• “I love you….”

V
• You two were usually really happy together
• You leaned on each other and were complete together
• But one thing hurt that
• The surgery
• Whenever if came up you two ended up bickering and pouting for about an hour
• And one day Rika inevitably came in
• “Just tell me you love her and I’ll be gone!”
• “Don’t give me an ultimatum!”
• “What, should I just stay here to watch you agonize over another woman!”
• That was the last straw
• He picked up the first thing he could feel and chucked it at you
• It, was his tripod
• There was an ear shattering crack
• The tripod had broke, and part of it was lodged in your thigh
• You grabbed the phone and called an ambulance
• V sat there, telling you breathe, trying to comfort you, crying
• The ambulance arrived and took you away leaving him
• Seven eventually got him over to the hospital
• Where you were crying
• The bit of tripod cut through nerves, and put a hole in bone
• You would never walk again
• When he heard that V couldn’t look you in the eye
• And if he did you wouldn’t let him
Five years later
• You had left a long time ago
• He saw you sometimes, being wheeled around by Seven or some other member of the RFA
• He had gotten the surgery after, to be able to look at the pictures of you scattered around his house
• But you never looked at him
• He knew it was hist fault, he hurt you so much, he deserved it
• So why did it hurt so much?

Saeran

• He was doing much better
• All the drugs had been flushed out of his body
• There was one problem left
• The PTSD
• His attacks, although lessening, were horrible, he couldn’t recognize anyone, he’d scream, throw things, and
• You tried to pul lhim out of that darkness, but it took a long time
• One day it must’ve been especially bad
• You reached out to touch him
• And he swiftly took you arm and snapped it
• The pain was disconnecting, what was going on, you felt like you were on fire
• Who was screaming?
• Was it me?
• While you were grabbing for your phone to call an ambulance Saeyoung ra in
• Pushing past Saeran he scooped you up and took you to the hospital
• Saeran just stood there
• It took about half and hour for him to process everything
• And when he finally woke up it was Hell
• He ran to the hospital
• When he got there, the whole RFA was there
• Saeyoung walked up to him
• “She’s in surgery right now, they thought it’d be prudent to take care of it right away.”
• Those words chucked Saeran out to sea
• He couldn’t process anything, it was like the ground underneath him was made of glass, and he’d just shattered it
• It took a few hours, but finally you were allowed visitors
• And when he stepped in he knew he was lost again
• Your arm was in a metal brace, stitches spiraled down you arm, neat and carefully done, holes pocketed your skin where pieces of bone and vaccines were
• The RFA surrounded you, asking if you were in pain, did you need water, smothering you
• Saeran stayed in the corner, looking at the people outside passing by, leaning against the wall
• “You need to talk to her.”
• Saeyoung had snuck up behind him and put his hand on his brother’s shoulder
• “She won’t want to see me.” He said flatly
• “How do you know what she’s thinking right now? Have you asked her? You matter to her, no matter what she thinks of you, she’ll still want to talk.”
• Saeran looked at his brother. “And if she hates me?”
• “Well then you know, besides, I don’t think she hates you, she’s too proccupied.” Saeran nodded and, as the RFA began trickling out, walked up to you
• “I’m sorry, this is all my fault.”
• You looked at him, curiosity written all over your face

  • “Why is it your fault that you have PTSD?”
  • Saeran looked up at you, disbelief written all over his face, but you were dead serious
  • “It’s not the fault of the people who have cancer that they have it, why should it be any different for people with mental issues. Sure I’m really mad, I’m frustrated, I hate this scar, but that doesn’t mean it’s your fault you have PTSD.”
  • You two talked a long time
  • And came to a decision
  • Saeran would go see a professional psychiatrist regularly, and take medication as long as possible
  • The attacks stopped
  • He recovered, and what it took was hurting the one he loved the most
  • Never again

Vanderwood

  • Kids, this is why you don’t run with sharp things
  • It was a week before April Fools Day, and Saeyoung was having the time of his life
  • Constant pranks on Vanderwood
  • It was driving them crazy, and one day it got to much
  • Achievement unlocked: You’ve officially broken Vanderwood!
  • The next time Seven tried it again Vanderwood has scissors
  • They were goofing off, running around, chasing each other
  • When you had the misfortune to walk in
  • The room was chaos
  • But that wasn’t the problem
  • The problem was that Vanderwood had run into you
  • As had their scissors
  • Right into your shoulder
  • You screamed, and at first they weren’t sure why
  • Then they saw the scissors lodged in you
  • Panic mode officially on
  • The drove you to the hospital, insisting that you mustn’t pull it out, it could cause nerve damage
  • It’s good they did, because the doctors later said that themselves
  • The procedure wasn’t horrible
  • Stitches, salve, then in bed
  • Unfortunately, it would leave a bunch of scars all over your back
  • You hated those scars, they were ugly, and they were there for such a stupid reason
  • Every time you saw them poking out behind your sleeves
  • Vanderwood felt horrible
  • You didn’t let it show that they were a bother in front of them
  • But they knew
  • Eventually they confronted you
  • “Do you hate me?”
  • “Why would I?”
  • “Because of your back.”
  • You flinched, and Vanderwood thought they were a goner
  • “I understand if you never want to see me again.”
  • “No.”
  • Those words echoed throughout them, and their face furrowed in confusion
  • “I may hate them, and sometimes I may not want to see you, but that doesn’t mean that I want to never see you ever again. That’d be ridiculous.”
  • You hugged them tightly
  • “It may have been your fault, but that doesn’t mean I should hate you forever.”
  • Vanderwood was never more grateful in their life

OH MY GOD IT’S DONE!!! Now here’s to hoping it doesn’t delete FOR THE FIFTH TIME while I’m writing the closing. I’m super sorry. I lost power for over two days, then it kept deleting, it was just a nightmare. I hope you liked, and I tried to vary it. I feel so bad about Baehee and V, but I just felt like I needed to. I hope this helps you and your need for angst!! Thank you for requesting this and hope you like!

To Love Somebody

Characters: CastielXReader, ft. Sam and Dean Winchester

Word Count: 3242

A/N: Castiel wants to demonstrate his love for the reader but doesn’t know how. Cue up the most adorable, awkward angel ever as he tries and repeatedly fails to show you his love. Inspired by Castiel’s utterly innocent Websummons app search in episode 12.19 of “how to fix a truck” (no spoilers) – because, you know, the internet has all the answers to life’s complex problems! Pure unadulterated Fluffy Fluff (yes, with capital Fs ‘cause Fluff is capital).


Castiel meandered aimlessly into the library, deep in contemplation, stopped up short by the edge of the glassy smooth mahogany table where Sam and Dean sat steeped in a heap of dusty lore books and Men of Letters file boxes researching the latest case.

The angel had been off his game for days – quieter than usual, less helpful, more vague, seeking solitude in the lesser used domains of the bunker, thoughts wandering again and again to the image of you he held in his mind’s eye. He’d always felt more protective toward you than to other humans, even the Winchesters - your injuries and anguish wounding him in a manner he did not understand. And like the sun, you were the brightest object in any room. He found himself perpetually staring at you, into you - the radiant warmth of your soul pleasantly tugging against his celestial being as he fought the urge to gravitate closer, his grace sparking, flaring, and blazing through his vessel like a wildfire in your company. In your absence, he still sensed and craved this all-consuming burn – the very thought of you enough to stir a tingle of heat and longing within his vessel.

Three days ago, Castiel decided what he was feeling for you could be nothing short of love itself. And now that he had named it, he was bursting at the seams to tell you. Yet his burgeoning love remained tempered with fear you would not return his feelings. He could not confess it outright, could not compromise your friendship - he would rather remain your friend than risk pushing you out of reach and be damned to exist alone in the dark forever remembering what it was like to be bathed in the reflective light of your soul.

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so I finished Master of None and then read an article about how Francesca has no personality and is the euro manic pixie dream girl and I just…do not agree with that opinion at all? I think the biggest thing for me is like..I have friends who are very whimsical in spirit and I would not define them as manic pixie dream girl. They are real people who were not created just to be some cutesy girl for a man to fawn over. Like…some girls ARE just really wonderful and have a lighthearted, sweet nature to them. That is a fact. And I admire them greatly because I on the other hand am a lazy asshole and would very much like to be like that. Like I can literally name at least 3 close friends of mine who remind me in some way of Francesca. Idk I guess I just like..am done with people finding a reason to hate EVERY female character that comes along. Like no one will ever be good enough. Which is ridiculous. Women are allowed to be portrayed in all sorts of ways, including the way Francesca is. She seemed very real to me, just like the entire show seems very real, even the parts that are romanticized. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Idk mate just my 2 pennies.

Who Am I? Part 10

Summary:  My take on A/B/O in the MCU (non-cannon).  Life takes on a routine

Warnings: NSFW, a little bit of smut 

Words: 4k

Tags: @divadinag @ariwolff14 @mrssgtjamesbuckybarnes @marauderice @el-bucky @kellyn1604 @negan–is–god @theariel85

@divadinag @ariwolff14 @mrssgtjamesbuckybarnes @marauderice @el-bucky @kellyn1604 @negan–is–god @theariel85


You walked down the stairs, hand-in-hand with Steve.  The euphoria was still surging through your veins. Your loft was covered in the aroma of bacon.  A smile spread across your face.

“Is it just me or are you extra happy this morning?” Steve raised your hand and gave it a kiss.

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Helping Hands Part 1

Word Count: 2,305

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Y/N

Warnings/Notes: Cursing, because I miss it. Just a lil something that came to me and that I wanted to get out. (Requests are Open)



You sighed into the phone, “I hate doing this.” You could hear the faint breath of the other person on the phone. They’d been quiet since they heard your voice, and only replied with short curt answers, and only breathing in short little pants. Not you, your heart was racing, your legs bouncing up and down as you nervously tried to get through this phone call.

The sun was barely rising, birds chirping as they flew overhead. The day was going to be a nice one. It was the first day of spring after all. Blood was caked to your clothes, to your face, and to your hands. You couldn’t even tell which was yours anymore, or which was… “It’s just- I’ve never hunted something like this before.”

You ran hand through your hair and closed your eyes. You hated this, hated the sting of tears threatening to fall from your eyes. The pain was starting to return. No longer did you have adrenaline to subside it. You looked up at the sky, the pinks and yellows starting to blur in your vision. “And I think- fuck- I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but I think I need your help.”

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