ruthsheart - Tumblr blog

[ruthsheart]

Mood board for a Gemini/Cancer cusp who loves the ocean -Vega (Sorry I haven’t been active lately!)

[ruthsheart]

sleepy sailor moon

[ruthsheart]

Ruth vs. Cleo

[ruthsheart]

@desmondbeaumont:

Des shifted his gaze to her, swallowing the tightness in his throat. He knew there wasn’t a reason to be nervous–that he was in a safe place. Just like when he was at Jude’s. Maybe, he was a little more exposed than he was comfortable with these days, but it was just skin and body parts. Besides, Ruth wasn’t even attracted to men, so, really, he was just a naked bloke standing in her living room. Not a big deal at all. He took a deep breath before giving her an easy smile, a quiet laugh bubbling from his lips. “As long as they get me right then I can handle a bit sass,” Des teased before licking his lips nervously. “And thanks. For that. I’m over-reacting,” He added. He would explain that it’s been ages since anyone saw him naked, but he was pretty sure Ruth didn’t want to hear about his sex life, or lack of sex life.

Listening to her instructions, he positioned his arms and let his eyes slip shut, trying to put himself in the right mindset. It was a bit like the few shows he was in, preparing himself to get into character. He missed those days. He tried to imagine the feeling of the sun’s rays on his skin and sand digging into his back. Des and Ruth weren’t in a flat, but a serene beach in the Bahamas, and finally the tension fully eased from his body, leaving him pliant and relaxed.

Des cracked an eye open when he felt a buzzing at his palms and realized that in his attempts to picture the sun, he accidentally conjured it from his hands, casting a soft glow around his head. “Whoops,” He laughed. “I don’t think that’s what you meant. I’ll just turn those off.”

Ruth glanced up over the top of the page at Des, before leaning in close and etching out the slim trunk of his chest. “Oh no, it’s fine. A lot of people are uncomfortable with being naked. It’s pretty common. You’d be surprised how hard it is to find someone who’s willing to model for a whole room of art students. We basically get the same two or three people over and over. I don’t even bother to use the class models anymore, they’re so boring. I’d rather have a shy model than someone who isn’t exciting.” Peeking around the easel again, she pursed her lips together in focused thought. Her soft eyes traced the curve of his thighs.

“Way I see it…” Her mouth continued to chatter away while her true attention was locked onto the page. “There’s something fundamental about that feeling. I mean, it’s part of one of the oldest stories ever told. Adam and Eve ate the apple of knowledge and they learned shame. Before then, they were innocent, like children. Knowledge told them their bodies were shameful and needed to be hidden, but they weren’t born that way. They were born perfect.” A cheeky quirk of a smile tugged at her lips as the pencil traced out a rough outline of his well-endowed manhood. “Society tells us we need to criticize our bodies, says that our flesh is dirty and flawed, especially women, but men too. The paradigm likes it that way.” The tip of her pencil etched out the arch of his foot. Standing back, she suckled on the butt end of her graphite pencil and admired the outline on the page. “It’s easier to keep us under control when we are insecure. If we all lived with childlike innocence, the patriarchy wouldn’t exist,” she added, with careless certainty.

Her smile grew wider as she noticed him shut his eyes and the tension in his little shoulders sank away. She liked to think he could see it in his mind’s eye the way she could--fine white sand gleaming, turquoise blue water, vibrant green leaves shading a warm golden sun. It shimmered between the branches of the palm trees and left dancing spots in her vision. No, wait, that’s Des. She lifted a hand to shade her eyes and blinked at him. “Yes, I know you’re shiny and beautiful, you don’t need to rub it in,” she joked with a giggle. “Unfortunately, it’s clashing with my lighting plan.” Lowering her hand, she tilted her head to the side and glanced between the page and her model. “Hmm… speaking of religious symbolism…” She leaned over to flick the pencil across the paper. “A halo effect might be a good call. Emphasize the purity of the human form in its natural state…” Her fingers flicked through her pencil box in search of a firmer graphite pencil for the finer details. As the the little wooden pencil rattled against each other, she smiled. “I’m glad your shine has come back, Des.” A few months ago, he’d struggled to relax enough to shine for her.

something strong is building where you belong

[ruthsheart]

A moodboard for a Gemini-Cancer cusp who loves the ocean! I hope you like it!

-Phantom

[ruthsheart]

Cancer punk rock mood board

 -pastel

[ruthsheart]

@desmondbeaumont:

Des didn’t move right away. Even though he warmed up to the idea, there still seemed to be a mental block as he shuffled over to the couch, fingers pausing at the hem of his hoodie. He waited for Ruth to walk off with the pumpkin before lifting it over his head and dropping it on the back of the couch. He only let himself look down at his bare chest for a moment before moving on to his pants. He was still toned, but there was some definite muscle loss after his few months spent mostly in bed. Hopefully, all the future footie practice would help.

Biting his lower lip, Ruth’s voice sounded a little muffled in his head as he stared down at the clasp of his trousers, more focused on the next steps of his undressing process than her artistic vision. Taking a deep breath, he convinced himself it was like ripping off a plaster before undoing the clasp and shoving his trousers past his hips in one go. He stepped out of them, stumbling a little when they caught on his ankles before tossing them on the couch with his hoodie. Now, all that was left was his pants. Jesus, he was really taking his time with this, wasn’t he? He spared a glance in Ruth’s direction before quickly shucking those off too. Rather than throw them like his other clothes though, he carefully tucked them underneath his trousers, so they weren’t on display.

The air was a little chilly on his bare skin, causing goosebumps to litter his arms. He looked down at his exposed hips and froze with his hands awkwardly in the air, unsure whether he should cover his front or his back. He awkwardly cupped a hand over both, not ready to expose himself fully to Ruth just yet. He shuffled over to her like a crab with a sheepish grin on his face. “Don’t want to give it all away just yet, right?” He laughed shakily, and nearly jumped a foot in the air when her hands rested on his shoulders. He stopped himself with the reminder that it was Ruth’s soft, caring touch, and not the rough, demanding one that he saw in his nightmares. The reminder only made him flinch a little, but he tried to disguise it with a weak smile as he let her direct her to the correct spot.

The longer her hands rested on his naked skin, the more comfortable he became, and a shiver ran down his spine. This time from the warmth of her hands and not the chill in the air. It brought him back to the night he saw flashes of tanned skin and warm brown eyes while kissing Jude. His body reacted to the mental image instantly, a flush reaching his cheeks. He forced himself to think about anything but that, because there would be no hiding his budding arousal.

When she finally found the perfect position for him, he just stood there, hands still covering his more intimate bits before he finally forced himself to drop them to his sides. “Alright,” He cleared his throat nervously, refusing to look past his hips, as if it was someone else’s body and not his own, which was fitting because it felt like that most days. “What do I do with my hands? On my hips? By my sides? Jazz hands?”

The air around Des was so thick with tension, Ruth was surprised he wasn’t suffocating on it. She’d never had such a shy model before. It was a bit unnerving the way he’d pause and glance at her, his soft eyes wide and begging for help. A sympathetic ache squeezed at her heart. Pausing in her hurry to get Des posed, her hand poised on her sternum bone, she considered what this feeling could be. Were Des’ timid puppy-dog eyes actually working on her?

Pull yourself together, Ruth, she chastised herself. You know what he went through. Sort of. Don’t let it hurt you too. You’re stronger than that.

When she glanced back up at him, she had to let out a shocked cackle of laughter at the way he scuttled over to her in an awkward, bow-legged crab walk. “Saving the best part for last, are you? I’ll just have to wait and see~” It made no difference to her whether he decided to reveal or not. She only hoped he felt comfortable with his decision. The way he flinched beneath the gentle brush of her fingertips suggested that was not the case. Her round lips pursed into a tiny frown as she gingerly adjusted his direction. The hurt in her chest tried to claw up her throat, but she swallowed it back down with a forceful gulp. He hadn’t meant to recoil from her. It was merely an accident, at least, that’s what she hoped it was anyway. It wasn’t like Des to avoid her touch after grasping her hand so excitedly as they wandered through her family’s orchard just last week.

She stepped back to examine how the light played against Des’ angles, but didn’t make it far before Des’ nervous sense of humor struck again. Ruth burst into a melodic trill of giggles. She raised her hands beside her face, wriggling her fingers energetically. “Give them the old razzle-dazzle, sweetheart!” Grinning, she backpedaled on clumsy bare feet to stand by her easel, jazz hands outstretched in front of her. “Hmm… Arms…” With her fingers, she visually measured out the perspectives of light and dark.

“Des, look at me, babe,” she reminded him gently. In spite of the amused smile on her face, the hurt still lingered in her chest. “I know this might be a little… intimidating for you.” She continued on in a quiet, humming mutter. “But it’s okay. This is a safe space. It’s just you and me… and my little pencils.” Her giggles bubbled softly in her chest as she twirled a charcoal pencil between her long fingers. “You’re safe here. I promise, nobody will judge you.” For the first time, she looked him up and down, from head to toe. Her eyebrows raised in quiet surprise. His ribs rippled at the sides of his chest, hip bones stood out sharp and proud. He was thin, but where she had expected him to be modestly sized, he was defiantly well endowed. “I can’t make any promises for the pencils, though. They can be a touch sassy,” she continued on with a sweet smile as if she hadn’t noticed anything at all.

“Could you fold your hands behind your head for me? Like you’re lounging in a hammock on the beach… our beach, in the Bahamas.” Des always needed a bit more help setting the scene. Perhaps she could send him somewhere nice in this little fantasy, to take his mind off of her examining him. “You’re soaking up that nice warm sun and listening to the waves roll in and out.” His arms would form two pointed wings around his long neck and chiseled jaw, a heart-shaped semblance of a halo to draw the eye where it really mattered. In graphite, she began to scratch a rough outline onto the paper.

something strong is building where you belong

[ruthsheart]

Autumnal Cancer

[ruthsheart]

Tracking backwards…

Thread tracker under the cut.

Keep reading

[ruthsheart]

you’ll be my fear of heights

The chalk was soft and dusty under her fingertips as she measured out the circle. It slid over the smooth hardwood flooring of Marco’s flat, unhindered by dirt or divots. From the white point pinched between her fingers, a gentle curve unfolded around her, a blooming, like clouds moving to unveil the full moon. She knelt low outside of her perfect circle, whispering chants in Latin and English, Italian and French.

“Vocat virtutem elementorum: ignis, aqua, terra, aer.”

She’d practiced the pronunciation for days to ensure she didn’t look like a fool in front of her brother. With short strokes, she drew glyphs for each element around the edge of the circle. Setting a compass in the center of her circle, she called out to the four directions in her father’s tongue.

“Evoco le direzioni cardinali: Nord, Sud, Est e Ovest.”

Over and over, she repeated the words while she drew her glyphs at each point. The circle was nearly complete. The chalk scribbled hashes and runic numerals to form an ornate clock inside her perfect circle.

“Père du Temps et de la Terre Mère, je vous en prie.”

Her tongue did not fumble over the utterly foreign language. Her chalk smudged fingers held steady. She carefully climbed to her bare feet. The black fabric of her long silk gown swished against her legs like cool water. “Candles,” she reminded herself. The circle wasn’t complete without all twelve candles. “Almost done!” She called out to Marco, who’s been furiously flipping through books in the other room. One candle was placed on each hour. Four black, four white, and four silver votives rested at the corners of her circle. “What comes next?” She wiped her hands on her knees as she stood to admire her work, leaving pale streaks on black silk. It was an ornate, intricate piece of spellwork, her circle. She had to admit, she was a bit proud of how beautiful it looked, fine details and geometric precision.

@marco-marino-hart

[ruthsheart]

❝we should do a halloween game, like truth or dare ‘cept it’s trick or treat?❞ -- @rorycaston

Ruth chewed pensively on a caramel-filled chocolate bar. Her feet ached from walking in her tall black heels so much during the day’s celebrations. For now, she was happy to sit on the carpet, her lacy black skirts spread out all around her, broad witch’s hat perched on her head, and bag of candy nested in her lap. “Trick or treat? What could you possibly treat me with, Sir Elton John?” She smiled as she chewed on another bite of candy. “I think I have all the treats I need tonight.” She shook her candy bag at them enticingly. “Unless you have something spicy for me.” She wiggled her eyebrows before breaking into a flurry of giggles and tumbling backward to lay out on the carpet. The number of drinks she had were beginning to make her dizzy.

[ruthsheart]

❝ do you really think the dead are roaming free among us on halloween night? ❞ -- @desmondbeaumont

Ruth tugged down on the sleeves of her grey cashmere jumper before scooping her glass of wine up in both hands. She cradled the crystal glass in her dainty fingers, watching the pastel pink liquid shimmer under the dim lights of the cafe. “I guess… that depends on your definition of roaming.” She lifted the glass to her lips and took a little sip. The fruity, tart, and bubbly rose brought a smile to her face. “They say the veil between our world and the next is thinner. I think there’s some truth to that. I think, if we wanted to, we could call out to the dead.” She peeked over her glass at Des in the chair across from her. The flickering candlelight from the jack-o-lantern shaped ceramic bowl on their table cast Des’ features in shifting shadows. “And I think the dead could answer, if we called. There’s just something in the air this time of year, don’t you think? Something… haunting.” Her eyes fluttered down to watch the shuddering candle as she hugged her glass to her chest. The cafe muttered with soft, clandestine conversation. Waitresses in black slid silently between the tables like phantoms in the dim lighting. Over the tinkle of silverware and the hum of sweet whispers, Ruth could hear the steady breath of the beach, dark waves lapping against the sand hungrily. “What do you think?” She gave him a mischievous smirk. “Do you feel them reaching out to you?”

[ruthsheart]

a year older, a year gone forever

More birthday headcanons for the last summer and early autumn.

@desmondbeaumont: So caught up in her anger and sense of betrayal, Ruth spent this time focused more on spellwork and closing herself off emotionally from the others to protect herself. She was mortified to find that Des’ birthday had snuck up on her and caught her unprepared. She locked herself in her flat all day, and furiously did the one thing she was certain she could do well. She painted. Shortly before midnight on Des’ birthday, she knocked on his door to deliver a large painting of a tropical beach with two figures walking in the sand toward the sunset. “It’s a reminder,” she said. “Of where we’re going to go once the curse is broken.”

@faye-westaway: Ruth had been actively avoiding Faye since the exorcism. She feared the horrible conversation they might have about their relations while Faye was possessed. She tried to distance herself from the desire and infatuation that spiraled in her thoughts whenever Faye was near. She hadn’t planned on giving Faye a present, better to keep away and not face the beautiful woman. Days before the birthday came Ruth’s sketches began to overflow with images of a romantic picnic in the sun, cakes and flowers, a large rugged hand twined with soft pale fingers. Jude and Faye... Walling herself off from the nauseating disappointment, Ruth gathered up the sketches and slid the little stack under Faye’s bedroom door before cuddling with Cleo and trying to wipe Faye from her mind.

@ava-x-park: On her best friend’s birthday, Ruthie went all out. Ava deserved the world, but Ruth had to settle with only a few things that reminded her of her bestie. She bought Ava a sunny golden citrine pendant, an enormous rose quartz tower to channel love into Ava’s home, a book of unbelievable weather photography--storms that streaked with pillars of lightning across the sky, snowbanks that towered above roadsides and dwarfed people, floods and fires that inspired fear and awe--and a fancy bottle of limoncello straight from Italy for them to share.

@wrenhugo: After her fumble with the enchanted shark-tooth gloves at the exorcism, Ruth wanted to try again to make something that Wren might find useful. Ruth wrapped and knotted a leather string around a small obsidian dagger, filling it with intention. Glassy black obsidian gave a grounding effect, cutting away excess thought and worry. It rooted its wearer into their senses, into the here and now, as well as in the subtle world. The shimmery reflectiveness of the volcanic glass tapped into the sixth sense, the intuition. Scorpio being ruled by Mars, Ruth chose the dagger shape to resonate with the martial planet and intensify the effects of the stone. Altogether, the dagger might help the blind woman feel better connected to the shadowy world around her.

[ruthsheart]

chamomile 

[ruthsheart]

 🎃    HALLOWEEN   SENTENCE    PROMPTS  !

​❝ happy halloween! ❞

❝ are you going to go to this halloween part with me tonight? ❞

❝ it’s halloween, so everyone is going to be dressed up. ❞

​❝ is that your idea of a costume? ❞

❝ i thought we agreed to stay in and have a horror movie marathon. ❞

❝ i went to the store and bought all new halloween decorations. ❞

​❝ are you going to help me put up these halloween lights? ❞

​❝ it’s halloween and we are spending it by going to a haunted house. ❞

​❝ i have plans halloween night, unlike you. ❞

​❝ we can always go to the pumpkin patch instead. ❞

​❝ are you going to help me carve these pumpkins or not? ❞

​❝ aww, where’s your halloween spirit? ❞

​❝ look, i carved this pumpkin all by myself, what do you think? ❞

​❝ wanna go out with me for halloween? ❞

​❝ come on, halloween’s not so bad. it’s actually fun. ❞

​❝ okay, i’ve got the best ghost story, wanna hear? ❞

​❝ let’s go trick-or-treating! ❞

❝ are you going to take me trick or treating this year again? ❞

​❝ come on, we have to go buy costumes for this party. ❞

​❝ it’s going to be cold on halloween, are you sure you want to wear that? ❞

​❝ you are literally the same thing every year for halloween. ❞

​❝ please, enough with the pumpkin spice. ❞

​❝ how about a pumpkin spice latte? ❞

❝ please, never use fake blood for a halloween prank. ❞

❝ oh no, please, tell me this isn’t another one of your ideas for a halloween prank. ❞

❝ you think you can scare me? ❞

❝ remember to always check your candy! ❞

❝ where is all the candy i just bought? ❞

❝ we are not going to a cemetery just because it may or may not be haunted. ❞

❝ i’m not going in a graveyard, are you crazy? ❞

❝ i’m going to dress up as the grim reaper because i feel like death. ❞

❝ trick or treat. ❞

❝ want to trade out some of our candy? ❞

❝ we should do a halloween game, like truth or dare ‘cept it’s trick or treat? ❞

❝ what school has a halloween dance party? ❞

❝ what are you going as for halloween this year? ❞

❝ are we really going to carve all these pumpkins? ❞

❝ you know, that was the best halloween party ever. ❞

❝ i’m going to a halloween party and you’re not invited. ❞

❝ you should totally come with me for this halloween thing tonight. ❞

❝ we can stay up late and watch scary movies. ❞

❝ i wanna make sure that my jack-o-lantern is the best! ❞

❝ let’s see who can carve there pumpkins the fastest! ❞

❝ i can’t believe they put some of these costumes on the racks. ❞

❝ what’s the point in decorating your house for just one night? ❞

❝ i’ve got a spooky story for you, if you want to hear. ❞

❝ do we have to go to this haunted trail? ❞

❝ that haunted trail/house sucked, i want my money back. ❞

❝ i didn’t see you at the halloween festival earlier. ❞

❝ i have to take my ______ trick or treating, or else i would. ❞

❝ are you going to the halloween thing they are having today? ❞

❝ do you really think the dead are roaming free among us on halloween night? ❞

❝ halloween is my favorite holiday, so i’m going with or without you. ❞

❝ you want to help me set up this halloween party? ❞

❝ this is going to be the best halloween of all time. ❞

❝ i’m just saying, let loose and have some fun for a change. ❞

❝ we should just make our own costumes. ❞

❝ we’re definitely getting matching costumes.  ❞

❝ i entered are names for this costume contest, one of us will definitely win. ❞

❝ i do not want to be in a costume contest. ❞

❝ wait, what? you don’t want to do anything at all on halloween night? ❞

❝ well, it’s over. now we have to wait all the way until next year. ❞

[ruthsheart]

@desmondbeaumont:

Of all the things Des thought Ruth might request for her favor, he never considered that modeling for a portrait would be one of them. There were loads of other blokes she could’ve chosen, particularly from their group. He understood why she chose him though, because he owed her, and it wasn’t like he could say no after making a big show of challenging her to hide and seek at the charity ball.

He wasn’t sure what he should wear to model, so he settled on something simple, but hopefully striking enough to be considered attractive. At least he was finally out that phase where he needed to hide himself in Jude’s over sized jumpers. Des arrived at Ruth’s flat, clad in a fitted orange hoodie and dark wash skinny jeans. He thought the orange might be a fun pop of color, but what did he know? He didn’t know what the requirement was for this project other than needing a male model.

As Des knocked, he wondered if they would ever reach that point again where he could just waltz on in. Though, he wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to reach that point. There were a million things he could walk in on Ruth doing, and all of them gave him an uneasy feeling–from being lost in a vision to dancing naked with forest animals for some ritual. As the door opened, he forced a grin that he hoped made him look ready to go, even if he felt completely out of place. “You don’t need to thank me. It was part of the deal, yeah?” Des stepped inside, gaze going to the pumpkin on the chest before turning to Ruth with a raised, inquisitive brow.

Laughing quietly, he nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I could see how a nude painting of your brother might not come across–wait, what?” He whipped around to stare at Ruth with wide, fearful eyes. “You didn’t say anything about nude modeling.” It shouldn’t be a big deal. If it was a few years ago, Des would’ve jumped on the opportunity and had fun while doing it. But now? He could hardly look at himself most days.

He couldn’t remember the last time he let himself stand in front of the mirror naked to give himself a good look. Him and his body–they just weren’t friends right now. With time to heal and his frequent therapy sessions, he was doing loads better than he was last winter, but he still had a lot of healing to do, and he had yet to shake the idea that his body was tainted. Des probably looked a little like a caged animal as he wrapped his arms around himself, wide eyes darting from Ruth to the pumpkin. He realized she was giving him out. He could keep his clothes on and she could put his head on a body that she conjured up from memory, but somehow that felt worse. Like he was regressing, rather than moving forward. He could practically hear his therapist in his head telling him the symbolism behind giving himself a new body.

Blinking rapidly, he untangled his arms from himself and laughed weakly. “Ruthie, I know men aren’t your thing, and our willies aren’t the nicest thing to look at, but we don’t actually all look the same,” He said evenly, only the slightest tremble in his voice. “There’s no way I’m letting you get my cock and arse wrong, I’m actually quite proud of those,” It was all false bravado, conjured from the years where he actually felt that way, but it did help the tension ease from his shoulders. Des moved to the pumpkin, patting it lightly before shifting into the lighting experimentally. “So what? Do I just shuck my clothes and sit here? Is there a pose I should be in? I’m guess your professor doesn’t want my legs all spread out,” He huffed a shaky laugh. He was still mentally panicking, but he was already getting used to the idea of posing naked. Maybe, it would even be a little therapeutic.

Oh, shoot.

It took a while for her words to sink in, but the look on Des’ face once they finally did was something akin to pure horror. Maybe, she should have told him. Ruth grimaced as she rocked forward and backward on her bare feet. In the back of her mind, she remembered a similar wide-eyed, pale and lifeless expression on his face years ago when she’d picked him up from the wild, disastrous party on the football fields. She bit her lower lip, trying not to feel guilty for inspiring such panic. “It’s not a big deal--for me, I mean.” She stepped in closer with tentative motions, like a rabbit cautiously approaching an offered carrot. Her eyes scanned his for signs of emotion. “I’m not expecting anything. It’s just a body. Everybody has one. I’ve drawn enough naked men to get the general shape figured out, anyway.” She smiled, hoping her grin came across as encouraging, rather than awkward.

She let out a huff of held breath at Des’ forced laughter. At least he seemed to be warming up to the idea. Who knew, maybe whatever pain that had twisted Des’ confidence against him had begun to subside. She’d seen glimpses of the bold, cheerful boy he had once been during their game in the orchard. It was pleasantly unusual, like a catchy song she’d never heard before. Not quite the thoughtless and over-confident party boy, yet not the feeble and frightened shut-in either, the Desmond Beaumont that met her in the garden was someone entirely new. Yet, the comfortable familiarity of his sultry dark eyes and wide smile had whisked her away into enchanting memories. When her class assignment caught her by surprise, asking she find a model as soon as possible, only one man came to mind.

She rolled her eyes with an amused smirk. “I know they aren’t all the same. I’m not daft.” Her grin widened as she silently thanked the Goddess that Des hadn’t scampered away like a frightened animal. Still, she had to be gentle. The timid shudder in his voice, though understandable, was unnerving. She didn’t want to send their rocky relationship off on another catastrophic wrong turn by being too pushy again. “That’s right, just toss your clothes on the couch there while I finish up setting the lighting. Then we’ll figure out where to put you so it all looks fantastic.”

She hoisted the chubby pumpkin in her arms and shuffled away to set it on the kitchen table, where she planned to do some intricate carving later on in the week. As she continued to bustle about, shoving aside her heavy paints chest and fidgeting with the lamp next to her easel, she spoke her thoughts in a bubbly flow of chatter. “I’m picturing something like a fashion shoot, but, like, sans the actual fashion? Solid background color, dynamic pose, maybe some accessories to move the eye across the image… I’m not really certain yet. You know how art is, it develops a life of its own as you make it. Okay-” She waved Des over to the lit wall with one hand while she brushed errant hair from her eyes with the other. “Come stand right here, my love.” As he approached, she reached out for his shoulders as if to pull him into a hug, but she kept her distance so that only the tips of her fingers rested on the balls of his shoulders. She nudged him a few inches over, then shifted his shoulders toward the light. “A little sideways, like this. Hmm. Little more. There. Perfect.”

something strong is building where you belong