Antlers From Stuffed Animals: A Modern Guide To Taxidermy (2016)

Antlers from ‘Stuffed Animals: A Modern Guide to Taxidermy’ (2016)

@lovesdaya

It's hard for her to say just how deeply that sweet confession strikes her; sends her heart fluttering, lighteness in her chest that leaves her in airy, fond laughter. She squeezes his hand. Her smile grows more radiant under his gaze.

In his hold, her free hand comes up to his chest and she traces little hearts onto the fabric of his shirt as she listens and speaks.

"I still think I'm luckier," she whispers. It's sincere—for what a wonder it was that after years of chasing distant dreams, she somehow found herself in the arms of someone real?

His traveling touch sends a tingle down her spine and makes her bite her lip. She holds onto his shoulders and closes the gap between then even more, her eyes glancing down at his lips before meeting his gaze.

"Then, my sorrel... I think we can both give each other what we want." She leans in close and presses a tender kiss to his lips before pulling away just enough that her lips brush against his as she speaks.

"I missed you too."

Dressing Up {Closed with @dolasach}

(Continued)

"Working on a new project. I need to have some data in place to go off of." He explains as his hands fall slowly to her hips, not missing the opportunity to let them fall a little farther than needed, but he does indeed actually need her measurements, and notes the correct numeral and has to step away to write it down, and returns to her.

His hands slide across her upper back, there's strength there that he's glad for. Nimble fingers graze against her upper bicep on one arm while he takes note of its shape and takes that number too.

"You're strong, Miss." He lets his lips fall to her ear. "You're beautiful."

Warsan Shire, from “Hooyo Isn't Home”, Bless the Daughter Raised by a Voice in Her Head

In the heart of autumn, Beaufille’s Fall collection transcends fashion and becomes a visual sonnet to individuality. Each piece whispers stories of self-expression amidst the crunchy foliage backdrop.

Vincent van Gogh, from a letter to his brother Theo