and i like to comfort myself with moments like this

Having confidence in my body, in my fat body has literally changed my life! I see all my flaws in this picture but I also don’t give a fuck about them because I look fucking great! Haha. Like I look amazing, that smile is fucking real! I was having the time of my life and loving myself. I felt comfortable and happy! You hear me? HAPPY!

Yes, I’m overweight, yes I’m fat. Yup. But it’s the body I currently have and what I look like not loving what I have at this moment? And if my body ever changes, I'ma love that one too! I’ll be damned if anyone puts me back into a place where I cried every time I looked in a mirror. Now you can’t tell me shit! Nobody. Not a soul.

I am who I am. I am at peace with who I am. And I’m loving every inch!!!

I say all of this to say, love yourself. Nobody can love you until you love yourself! Regardless of where you are. Love it, please. I’m literally begging you. You are enough, you can love yourself just as you are. You need to know that.

It just trips me out how much 1D means to people. I remember reading stories back in the day of people finding 1D when they were going through a divorce, or a death in their family, or had just gotten married; abused people finding comfort in the lyrics, and laughter on stage, and all kinds of people from /all/ walks of life finding happiness and safety in 1D….. and it’s like…….  no wonder their absence is a gaping hole, you know like. I don’t think people think about it a lot, or realize it enough, but 1D has been that thing /so/ many people (myself included) ran to, or found happiness in in some of the most vulnerable moments of their lives. And like… solo-1D is GREAT but it’s so far from a replacement to ot4 together, and it’s why 1D still has thousands of fans and people waiting for their return 2ish years later, despite it looking like, and other people telling them that they’re not coming back. 1D is just. like. it means everything to people.

Ask my muse out!

“So are you seeing anyone at the moment?”

“Are you single by any chance?”

“Do you want to go out on a date with me?”

“I’m not going to the party with anyone, you’re not going with anyone. Shall we go together?”

“It’s taken me a while to pluck up the courage to ask but, do you like me?”

“You. Me. Date night. What do you say?”

“You’re no longer going alone, I’ll be your date.”

“Are you too shy to ask me out? Is that why I’m going to have to do it?”

“Do you have a girlfriend… or a boyfriend at all?”

“You wouldn’t happen to be dating at the moment, would you?”

“Look, I like you. I want to know if anything is going to come of it.”

“I have the house to myself, a bottle of wine and warm, comfortable sheets. Would you like to share that?”

“I’ve never asked anyone out before but with you I think I’ll have to.”

“Do you want to get out of here? Go somewhere private?”

“Would you be interested in going out with me some time?”


So as you know, I had the pleasure of meeting with Anjali Bhimani (voice actress of Symmetra) who asked me to be part of her IAmFunSize series. As someone who is..basically the same height as her, I was obligated to of course.

Me being notoriously inarticulate, I’d like to expand on my points from my video since I’m better expressing myself in text rather than speech. So read more below if you want to hear my thoughts on creative-block and being an artist.

Keep reading


Final Fantasy XV - StylishChocobutt’s Fan Art Collection;

Time for me to get real on a post for a moment. Above, you’ll see a collection of my FFXV fan art that I’ve completed since April. A variety of these have been noticed by their appropriate voice actors, and all of them have been loved and shared by you folks on tumblr.

If someone had told me a year ago ‘you’ll pick that tablet pen back up’ I’d have laughed in their face. I couldn’t touch that pen without wanting to cry, I’d had every bit of creative joy drained from me over the years of doing commissions for customers who more often than not could be quite hurtful with their requests after their piece was finished.

I gave up. I absolutely gave up.

And then I played FFXV, and started writing my first fanfiction: System. I saw a few other fanfics were getting fanart and I was like, nah, I can do that. So I did. Okay, NH-01987 (which isn’t above) didn’t get much notice, but I didn’t mind. I’d proven to myself I could pick up a pen. It was 17 hours of stress, anger, occasional moments of near giving up, but you know what, I finished it. I went on to do Promise, just to see if I could paint a scene like that-

And then, then I did ‘Turns out I’m one of them’ for Episode Prompto, way before it was released.

And holy shit guys, you sent that one well into 2k notes, and my follower count went from like 6, to well over 400.

Since then, I’ve done several pieces and done my best to try and push myself out of my comfort zone and into new types of landscapes.

I just want to thank you gys on here, because without you, I’d still be moping and hating myself for my art, when really all I needed was that little push in the right direction by such an amazing fandom. That’s YOU! I love you guys so much on here.

Everytime I get a comment, reblog, or like, I’m so freaking happy you don’t even know.

Thanks so, so much for the continued support!

Gonna tag some names of peeps I 100% adore and always see pop up too <3
Ilyall, everyone, every one of my followers, and even those of you who don’t follow but still support my stuff.

<3 @rogueheartedfiction @seerya @poisonous-panda @onpanwa @daemonchocobo @barcodechocobo @theasset6 @prompto-cam @galrainfused @weewildelass @destiny-islanders @asidian @rah-bop @chocobutt-trash

AND EVERYONE ELSE, I STG <3 If I haven’t tagged, I still love you, I’m just a plebe.

After Camp Camp: Max’s Parents

David hadn’t expected this- Well, he hadn’t known what he expected before this, but he knew that THIS certainly wasn’t it.

“You want to adopt our son?” Max’s mom, Alexis, asked, sounding almost amazed.

“What has he said that makes you think he NEEDS to be adopted?” His father, James, frowned, fingers drumming dangerously on the table. “That we don’t care? Because we missed the parents event because of work?”

David swallowed thickly, eyes darting to Max for backup. He felt a heavy weight settle into his face from his rapidly growing blush, embarrassed over how unprepared he now felt. They were right, after all. A child’s account over how they didn’t care about his SUMMER activities at a camp that did ALL activists really weren’t grounds for uprooting him from his parents and adopting him into a new family-

“It’s not that.” Max spoke up suddenly. “It’s everyday of my life with you two in it!”

“Maxwell, you can’t be upset over something this small! When your father and I were your age, we were separated from our parents just to come here!” The woman exclaimed, standing quickly.

“And that’s an excuse to act like I don’t exist!? You sent me to SUMMER camp. Not another country!” The boy cried out.

The room fell quiet, the tension building rapidly. Max’s anger was seemingly quelling, but David and the parents already knew that it would be back soon. Suddenly, James balled up his fist and slammed it onto the table, causing everyone to jump.

“Like you don’t exist!? We sent you to camp to get you out of your room for a bit!” James’ tone had dropped from slightly surprised to murderous. “Now you come back three months later with some stranger who wants to adopt you? Have you gone crazy?”

“His name is David! And at least HE asks me what I want!”

“You’re ten!” Alexia cried, tossing her arms wildly about. “You don’t know what you want!”

“I WANT to stay with David!” The boy’s small frame was shaking by now.

“And I WANT David to leave. Now.” James snapped, his eyes glaring daggers over at the other man.

“I’m not sure how comfortable I’d feel leaving the situation as is. I feel like I’ve caused a bit of confusion with the way I worded myself.” David coughed, though in reality he really didn’t want to leave without Max.

“You seem like a nice guy, I really don’t want to have to call the police on you.” James huffed, slowly rising from his chair. “I would appreciate it if you just left now.”

David bit his lip, looking down at Max for a moment. The boy was shaking, and tears were rapidly welling in his eyes, but David knew that a police report wouldn’t do either of them any good.

Slowly, David stood and made his way over to the door on shaking limbs. From behind him, he could feel Max’s eyes pleading for him to stay a little longer, but there wasn’t anything more he could do now, short of grabbing the boy and running off to the car where Gwen was waiting.


“I’ll see you around, Max. Be good for your parents, okay?” With that, David opened the door and stepped outside.

“David!” The distance between the deck and the stairs felt like a mile, as David continued to walk, forcing himself to ignore Max’s cries of frustration and rage from inside the house.

‘Please don’t think I don’t love you anymore.’ He thought, trying to hold his composure long enough to get to the car.

Inside the house, he knew Max was in trouble. He knew that the poor boy was thinking he had just given up on him, just tossing him out like everyone else, it that wasn’t the case at all.

It was just all that he could do for the time being, and it killed him inside.

I don’t know how so much emotion can fit inside of such a tiny human.

Why does it feel so good to cry? Why do salt-stained eyes bring me comfort? I want to purge myself from feelings - I want to shove my fingers down my throat and pull from it strings of chewed up letters. Stomach-stained thoughts. Be filled with complacent emptiness for just a moment - the gasp of air, when it feels like happiness, until gravity remembers itself and the emptiness becomes stillness becomes face down on your bed, unmoving. This can’t be how I live every moment that I’m alone - I can’t be this unhappy every time I’m alone. What does being around others even mean? It means being The Performer. Reciting your lines, pause for laughter. Pretend like you’re listening. Don’t say what you really mean, how you really feel, it’s not what people do. Rip that pulsing heart off your sleeve. We are all alive, we are all feeling what’s the use in holding back. I’m exhausted. What does it mean to just exist? To just be Alice, laying in the daisy field. The sun can see her, but nothing else. The movement of petals. What does it mean to breathe easily? What does it mean to be happy? Where does the laughter escape to when you’re alone? I feel, often, always, like a wind-up doll, a performance piece. I’m out, I’m social, I speak, I dance, I leave out my hat. I come home, back to my shelf, I sit, I stare, I want to be wound up again - always by others, never of my own volition. I become nothing for myself. If a blue haired girl takes a bath, writes a dream, touches herself, packs a box, but no one’s around to see it, did it really happen? I weep and weep and it doesn’t matter. I’m screaming into the abyss, the abyss is silent in return. The abyss has given up on us, it seems. The abyss needed something to scream into as well, it seems. Alex in the morning, doe eyes, cheery Alex is all anyone knows and it seems unfair to real Alex. Magnificently unfair. When can I be content being myself. I’m so tired. My mouth doesn’t want to make the words anymore. We slur (soberly, drunkenly), we can’t form coherent sentences. Ink based thoughts are the only ones I ever complete. (It’s cheating, I have more time to think them up.) (I want to be this version of me, I don’t want to be spoken to the way I’m spoken to. I’m more than my body, than the tiny, helpless mess of a man of a mouse.)

Secret Kink

Oh GOD this took me so long, but I’m finally done with it! Seriously hope you guys like it, this was find to write.

This one goes out to ma girl, @trulymadlysydney.

Let me know what you think, and if you have any requests for future oneshots, you can ask me HERE.

WARNING: Contains smut.

3445 words.

You hadn’t meant for him to find out. This kink, this little secret of yours was something that you had held close to your heart for as long as you could remember. While it wasn’t particularly strange or weird, it embarrassed you. The mere thought of it had your cheeks flushing a deep pink and your hands growing a little clammy.

So, to have Harry hovering over you, straddling your hips firmly with his fingers flying over your torso, was way too much. It was your worst nightmare combined with your most private fantasy, and you were in complete shock. Giggles and little shrieks fell from your lips, Harry beaming down at you as he continued his relentless movements.

“C’mon baby, tell me! I told you mine…” he grinned, slowing his fingers so they were just trailing up and down your sensitive sides, goose bumps appearing wherever he touched.

Your laughter subsided slightly, the occasional little giggle still bubbling from your mouth whenever he found a particularly sensitive area. All he wanted to know was who your first kiss was, and it would be easy enough for you just to tell him, but you kind of didn’t want the tickling to end.

You didn’t know what it was about tickling that got you going so much. It wasn’t just the action, no, it was more than that. It was the idea of being so completely at Harry’s mercy, knowing that he had the ability to tease you right to your very limits, and even then he could keep going. It was the feeling of desperately wanting him to stop but at the same time loving it so much that if he were to stop you would protest.

Harry leaned over you, his face nuzzling in against your neck, his breath warm as it washed over your skin.

“It’s like you don’t want me to stop,” he murmured, and you could almost hear him smirking, his words hitting you like a tonne of bricks. Your breath hitched in your throat, palms growing clammy at his observation.

He shuffled back a little to meet your eyes, fingers still dancing over you lightly as he smiled down at you. His eyes had their familiar twinkle in them as he looked at you, but you noted there was something else there, something dark and almost carnal.

“Do you?” he asked boldly, eyes piercing your own. You could almost feel him reading your innermost desires, and your cheeks deepened their embarrassed flush as you looked back at him, unable to break his gaze.

“Baby, I asked you a question. I need an answer. Do you want me to stop tickling you?” he murmured, his voice coming out a little breathless as he anticipated your response.

Your hesitated a moment longer, your lip nibbling anxiously on your bottom lip before you shook your head, never breaking his gaze.

Harry let out a low, guttural moan, eyes darkening as they scanned over your face. His hands slid up your sides and under your armpits, pushing your arms up above your head and pinning your wrists there.

“Do you like this? Do you like being all helpless and wriggly?” he breathed, attaching his lips to the delicate skin of your neck, sucking and nibbling a little.

You hummed in response, a tiny, slightly strained moan pushing itself from your throat as your hips rutted up against his own.

“What do you like about it?” he pressed, continuing his sucks and nibbles.

You nibbled at your lip again, brow furrowing a little, your words trapped in your throat. Harry must’ve sensed your unease, because he sat up, one hand slipping into yours while the other moved to stroke back your hair, his gaze softening as he looked down at you fondly.

“Hey… I wanna know about this, sweetheart. I don’t think this is weird. I think it’s hot. I love it. And I love you,” he reassured, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before leaning back again.

“How about we go and get all comfy in bed, and you tell me about it.  Yeah? No judgement, I promise. I just wanna know so that I can make you feel good, yeah?”

You nodded, brow relaxing a little as a small smile crept onto your face.

“Sorry. For getting all… I dunno. Silly…”

“Don’t be sorry sweetheart. Never be sorry for something like this, okay? I love you,” he repeated, kissing your forehead before shuffling off you and helping you up.

“C’mon,” he grinned, heaving you up over his shoulder, his arm gripping your waist as you broke into surprised giggles, hands fisting at the back of his t-shirt. He carried you easily to your shared bedroom, chuckling as delighted giggles continued to stream out of your mouth.

Once he’d set you down, he flopped back on the bed, patting his chest as he grinned up at you.


You gladly obliged, collapsing on top of him in another bout of nervous giggles so that you were settled comfortably between his legs, your chest pressed against his as you propped yourself up on him to meet his eyes.

“Okay… Comfy?” he asked, a hand slipping into your hair.

You nuzzled into his touch, nodding and grinning as your eyes flickered lazily, enjoying his touch.

“Good. So, tell me about this little kink of yours,” he encouraged, his other hand moving to rub your back gently.

You took a little breath, reminding yourself that this was just Harry. He loved you, and he just wanted to know you better. With that in mind and his comforting touch soothing you, you began.

“Well… I guess… I dunno, cause it’s not like anyone’s done it before, y’know?” you started, eyes meeting Harry’s has he nodded encouragingly.

“I guess I always knew I liked to be dominated. I like when you take control, and I like feeling out of control… I like it when I don’t know what’s next. I like when… How do I explain…” you hummed, pausing a moment as you gathered your thoughts, Harry waiting patiently for you to continue.

“I guess what I mean is that I like the feeling of being able to give myself completely to you. Where I don’t have to make any decisions, or make any moves… I just do as I’m told and I can sort of… let go. Completely. And tickling is a part of that, I guess. It’s like… A way that you can push me, without it being painful, y’know? Like, I’m scared of pain and all that other stereotypical BDSM stuff. But with tickling… It seems so harmless. I mean, you couldn’t definitely use it to push someone to the edge, but… I dunno. I like feelimg embarrassed. I just… Yeah. I think that’s what… I mean… Yeah,” you finished, looking back up at Harry, cheeks flushing yet again with your sudden bout of honesty.

Harry shifted a little underneath you, and if you didn’t know any better you could’ve sworn you could feel the beginnings of his cock hardening against you, your hips pressed together.

“That’s… Damn,” he breathed, his tongue darting out and flicking momentarily over his lips, leaving them glistening.

“I want that. I want you like that. Baby… I really want that. Please?” he murmured, watching your expression closely.

You couldn’t nod quick enough, hands smoothing over his upper arms as your hips ground down slightly against his groin.

“I want that too. Can we… I mean, could we try now?” you barely whispered.

Harry groaned in response, leaning up and pressing his lips to yours. It was an urgent kiss, his tongue wasting no time slipping into your mouth, completely different from the reassuring peck Harry had given you earlier. You hummed into the kiss, hands roaming over his familiar frame as your hips continued to rut against one another, desperate for more of each other.

You finally broke apart, both breathless a little flushed, and Harry pulled you both up so that he was sitting with you on his lap, his hands resting comfortably on the curve of your arse.

“I want to tie your hands together with one of my ties, is that okay?” he asked, his voice a little gruff as he questioned you.

“Yes. Please.”

“Good. I want you to take all your clothes off, underwear included, and then lay back for me, okay?” he instructed, running his thumb tenderly over your bottom lip.

You nodded, and he audibly sighed as he looked at you. “God you’re perfect. Okay… Off you get.”

You shuffled off him, eagerly tugging off your clothes and getting yourself comfortable on the bed as Harry moved around the room. You watched him blissfully as he stripped down to his boxers, selecting a tie from his extensive collection and stepping back to you. He stood at the end of the bed, eyes scanning over every inch of you. A small groan pushed through his lips, his hand moving to rest on your calf and thumb moving absent-mindedly over your bare skin.

“Before I tie you up, I want to just set a safe word for you, okay? Do you know what that is?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“It should be something you wouldn’t normally say in… well, in the bedroom,” he chuckled. “Ah, and it’s probably better if it’s one syllable so it’s nice and easy to say.”

You squinted for a moment in concentration, lip caught between your teeth.

“Grape!” you answered, grinning up at him.

“Grape it is,” he smiled back, shuffling onto the bed and settling himself between your legs. He carefully tied the tie around your wrists, pressing a delicate kiss to the back of your hand.

“Okay. Up above your head please baby.”

You moved them up, chest rising and falling quickly as your heart rate rose at the prospect of what was to come. You and Harry had of course tried things in the bedroom before, but nothing as intense as this. You could feel yourself dropping into an unknown state – you felt little, and helpless, and aroused, and nervous, and excited, and it was all quite a lot to process. There was no one else you’d rather do this with however, and that reassured you. This was Harry, your Harry. You loved him and he loved you.

Harry must’ve sensed how you felt, because he leaned down and pressed the most gentle kiss to your lips, pushing a hand into your hair.

“How do you feel?”

You thought for a second.


Harry smiled, nodding. “Is it a good feeling?”

You broke into a shy grin, nodding up at him.

“Oh baby… You’re so sweet… I’m glad you feel good,” he cooed softly, kissing your cheek. His fingers began to trail slowly up and down your sides, dancing over your skin.

“I want you to tell me where it’s the most tickly.”

“Like… where on my body?” you asked, your voice meek.

“Yes please sweetheart,” he nodded, his fingers continuing to move.

“I… I don’t… M’not sure,” you admitted, your nipples pebbling as his fingers brushed underneath your breasts.

“Okay… Okay, that’s okay. How about I just start tickling, and you tell me where it feels the most intense? Does that sound good?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, cheeks flushing a little. You felt like you were constantly a little embarrassed, and you loved it. It was clear Harry did too, because he couldn’t wipe the fond expression off his face.

His fingers started to travel over you, moving from your breasts down over your tummy, up your sides, and under your armpits. You broke into giggles, wriggling a little beneath him. When he reached your armpits you jolted, breath catching in your throat before a fresh wave of laughter washed over you. Harry’s face was lit up with delight as he watched your reaction, and it was clear he was loving this just as much as you.

The thought of this pleasing him only made the vague throbbing between your legs intensify, and you knew that one look at you would reveal how painfully obvious your arousal was.

“Is it here baby? Under your arms?”

“Y-yes! Yes!” you stuttered, whining and giggling as he continued to move his fingers over the sensitive skin.

“Are you wet?” he asked, his fingers never ceasing.


“Is this tickling getting you all wet baby?”


“Do you want me to make you feel good?”

You let out a low moan in between your giggles, hips pushing up a little at his words.

“I asked you a question, little one.”

“Y-yes. Please Haz. Please?” you asked, your voice plaintive and a little shaky as your eyes met his.

Harry’s fingers came to a halt as he shuffled off the bed, rummaging around in his bedside draw. Your chest heaved as you watched him with wide eyes, full of anticipation for what was to come next. He joined you back on the bed, something little wrapped up in his palm.

“Knees up,” he instructed, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your knee as you moved them up.

“Open up for me a little more please,” he asked, tapping your leg.

You widened your legs so that you were completely exposed, and you knew that Harry could now see the full extent of your arousal. He let out a huff of air, groaning softly and shifting as his eyes drank you in hungrily.

“Oh sweetheart… Look at you… All messy and desperate,” he whispered, a hand moving to rest firmly on your thigh. He placed whatever was in his hand down by his side, shuffling down so that his face was hovering right over your pussy. You could feel his hot breath washing over you, and let out a little whimper, hips pushing up, desperate for contact.

His lips pressed against the fleshy skin just above your clit, before working a trail of kisses around your clit and over your outer lips. You were panting now, chest rising and falling rapidly as you anticipated his tongue on you, and then suddenly, an intense shock of pleasure hit you. He had managed to retrieve the mystery item at his side without you noticing, too caught up in your desperation to see.

It was a small, powerful bullet vibrator, and it was being pressed firmly against your clit. Waves of pleasure rolled over you, and your could feel the beginnings of your orgasm building right in the pit of your stomach, your body jolting and hips moving in response.

“Good girl, good girl… Does that feel good?” he cooed, pressing kisses to your inner thigh.

All you could do was moan in response, goose bumps decorating your entire body.

“How about now?” he asked as he shuffled to sit up, his free hand beginning to tickle your side.

It was overwhelming to say the least, the excessive stimulation leaving you a breathless, giggly, moaning, flushed mess. It felt so good and you felt so far away from the real world, your brain almost dizzy with pleasure. You sort of lost track of time at this point, the steady vibration of the bullet on your clit never ceasing as Harry continued to tickle you, alternating between your underarms and your sides.

“N-need… G-gonna- Oh god!” you moaned, desperate for release.

“Cum baby, c’mon… Let go,” Harry murmured.

That was all you needed. Your orgasm washed over you, your moans catching in your throat as your entire body convulsed underneath him, your hips pushing up before dropping back down. Harry’s movements slowed for a moment as you caught your breath, but then he was right back at it, the vibrator circling your clit as his fingers began to work at your sides once more.

It wasn’t long before you were cumming again, the second orgasm just as incredible as the first, but faster and more intense. And just like the first time, Harry was unceasing with his movements. This was a first, and you didn’t know if you could handle it, but before you knew it, a third, mind-blowing orgasm was flooding over you, your voice hoarse with moans and giggles and shrieks as Harry’s fingers flew over your underarms.

Finally, everything stopped. You were exhausted, your eyes shut and body limp on the mattress. You could hear the vibrator clicking off, and then Harry’s hands were on yours, carefully untying the silky fabric from your rests. Your arms fell to your sides, a residual tremor running through your body. Your hand came to your face and you felt the tears that must’ve escaped during the intensity of it all, and you suddenly felt incredibly overwhelmed.

Harry was right there, lips pressing against your neck and hands rubbing slowly over your arms and sides. You felt his cock nudge against your sensitive pussy and you whimpered, breath catching in your throat as he pushed into you slowly.

“Shhh little one… I’ve got you… M’right here, I’ve got you…” he soothed, kissing along your jaw as his hips started to move slowly, pushing deep into you with each thrust. “Open those eyes for me baby,” he murmured, his voice a little breathless as he continued to push into you.

You pulled your eyes open, immediately finding his, your arms wrapping around his torso.

“That’s it. Good girl… God, you’re so beautiful,” he moaned.

He was so deep inside you, and with every thrust you could feel him nudging against your g-spot, rubbing against it with his swollen tip. His movements began to speed up a little, thrusts getting sloppier as he got closer and closer. His fingers found your clit and began to rub against it messily, and all you could do was moan weakly as fourth orgasm crept up on you.

“Cum with me sweetheart… C’mon… C-cum,” he moaned, and you did, the most intense, white-hot pleasure washing over you. His face nuzzled in against you as he came with you, his hot climax filling you up. His fingers slowed as you both came down from your highs, your chests rising and falling against each other.

He pulled out slowly and you whimpered at the loss of contact, thighs trembling as he collapsed next to you, nudging his face in against your neck and pressing gentle kisses to whatever skin he could find. An arm wrapped around your waist, and you felt so safe and secure, letting out little puffs of air as you felt his cum dribble out of you.

You both stayed like that for a while, and at this point you had completely lost all sense of time. You knew he was letting you settle, and you were so glad that he was giving you the time you needed.

Eventually, his soothing voice broke the comfortable silence. “Hey, sweetheart… Time to come back, yeah?” he coached, although there was no pressure in his tone.

Your eyes flickered open as your face turned towards him, and you managed a weak smile as you looked at him. Your eyes were glossy and your lips were swollen, and you knew you must look all fucked out. Harry smiled back at you, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your lips before kissing you properly, a hand pushing gently into your tangled hair. You kissed back eagerly despite your exhaustion, breaking away with a soft giggle.

“Hey,” he grinned.


“That was… wow,” he breathed, pecking your forehead.

“I know…” you giggled softly. “I came four times!”

“I know! I… Fuck, you’re… Baby, you’re incredible. We’re definitely doing this again.”

You chuckled, hiding your face in his neck as yet another blush crept onto your cheeks.

“I’m just gonna get a flannel, yeah?” he murmured after a moment, and you sighed as his weight left the bed, slumped back happily against the mattress.

He was back in a minute, and you hummed contentedly as he wiped over your thighs and pussy, whimpering a little when he brushed over your still-sensitive clit. He cleaned himself up as well, and then he was back, tugging the soft duvet up over you both.

“C’mere,” he smiled, arm open, inviting you to cuddle close. You shuffled in against his familiar figure, your head resting on his bare chest, listening to the familiar sound of his steady heartbeat.

“I love you,” you murmured.

His hand began to move slowly over your back, his lips nudging a kiss against the top of your head.

“I love you too. Thanks for doing this for me…” you murmured, snuggling even closer under the duvet.

“Oh, sweetheart… Any time,” he chuckled, cuddling you close.    

Disclaimer: all information in this post is my own personal opinion and belief system, you do not need to agree with me on this topic, if you take anything from this post be aware that this is my personal belief that is not shared by everyone.

Witches appear to be a confusing topic to many, the questions of “what spell will turn me into a witch?” “What kind of witch am I?” “How do I know if I am a witch?” are thrown at me on a daily basis, so I decided to attempt to sum it up into a singular post (wish me luck).

🌿 A witch can simply be described as a human that uses magick.

🌿 A witch is not a mythical creature or a different species.

🌿 Unlike Wicca, you do not have to be initiated into becoming a witch, you can choose to call yourself one from the moment you begin to practice witchcraft, or you can choose not to take the name “Witch” at all.

(Personally I chose to take the name ten or so years ago, once I had collected enough information to consider myself a true practitioner).

🌿 Witch is also not a name taken only by women, despite what men often assume. Witch is actually a gender neutral name for a practitioner of witchcraft, although many people particularly men feel more comfortable being called wizards, mages or spellcasters.

🌿 Witches look just like normal people, we don’t have green skin, pointy noses, or warts, we look just like everyone else.

🌿 You don’t have to ever call yourself anything as a practitioner, I have known people who never call themselves anything, despite being long term practitioners. 

 🌿 You don’t need a coven to be a witch or practitioner, many of us are solitary (such as myself) while others enter into covens. I would never recommend a coven for a beginner as it is hard to know what is and is not normal for a coven when you are just starting out.

Alongside the questions regarding how to become a witch, I get a lot of questions about types of practitioner and whether any one is stronger than the other, I have listed out three of the most common types of specific practice:

🌿 A Solitary witch: is one that practices alone, they do not involve others in spells or rituals. (This is the path that I chose).

🌿 A Family Witch: is one that has family that practice the craft close at hand, they often learn from their relatives rather than books, passing on family practices and traditions. Being a family witch does not give you special abilities though, unlike what some like to believe, a family witch is no more powerful by their blood than a solitary, the only difference is the environment in which they practice. Also some believe that abilities are passed down though generations, like empathy.

🌿 A Coven Witch: is one that solely practices in covens or with a group, this may sound really scary but a coven is just a group of like-minded people who enjoy spell-casting together and enjoy being around others with the same interests. A coven witch is no different from a solitary or family, the only difference is that they celebrate events together and do large rituals and spells during each month as desired. Joining a coven is a big step, and is not recommended for beginners in my opinion.

The “type” of witch someone is has become a highly common question, especially among beginners, there are too many “types” of witches for me to list them all, but I have listed a few. This being said you do not need to select any of these. These are only a guide for those who wish to understand what to call themselves, you can pick and choose from many open paths, however a named path is not a requirement to be a “true” practitioner (this this is collated from my personal grimoire, the original locations for information are unknown):

🌿 Kitchen Witch: A witch that works specifically with magick associated with cooking and the kitchen, commonly found crafting spells into food, making potions and drying herbs.

🌿 Green Witch: Utilizing plants in herbal and natural magick, they are likely to be using some form of plant life in many, if not all of their spells, knowing huge amounts of their magickal and medicinal properties.

🌿 Hedge Witch: These witch’s use a type of magick associated with spiritual work including astral projection, healing, OBE’s and more.

🌿 Faery Witch: One who uses their abilities to communicate and work with the fae, both in our realm and in theirs these witches have a natural affinity with the fae and are often found leaving out offerings.

🌿 Sea Witch: A type of witch that uses natural products from the sea, sea shells, salt water, sand, driftwood and more in their spells and rituals. Commonly living by the sea, they have easy access to the sea and have a natural affinity to the ocean.

🌿 Tech Witch: These are witches that use technology to help them in their practice, using circuit boards as altars, wire in knot magick and an online book of shadows.

🌿 Hearth/Cottage Witch: A cottage witch uses magick that is done effortlessly around the home, it can be undertaken during mundane household activities such as sweeping, cooking, cleaning and more, they are often considered to be combinations of herbal and kitchen witches with added extras, this is the path I found myself fitting into.

🌿 Dream Witch: Dream Witch’s find they can easily interpret dreams and can easily undertake lucid dreaming. Often finding meanings in every dream they are able to weave magick into dreams and even used them as a way of predicting the future.

🌿 Elemental Witch: An elemental witch will have the five elements in mind during all spells, incorporating them into everything magickal and sometimes non magickal that they do.

🌿 Storm Witch: Storm witches are those that work with the weather and storms to produce a dramatic result. They often find they have a natural affinity with storms and find their powerful emotions and the weather having a huge impact on magickal practices.

🌿 Urban Witch:  These are hardy and creative witches, they use drain water, every day litter and sometimes even spray-paint in their spells and rituals. Often very good at using unusual items in place of more traditional pieces they are very hardy and find the magickal beauty in everything urban life has to offer.

🌿 Draconian: A Draconian witch is one that works with dragon magick and dragons found in the astral plane, calling for their strengths in rituals and spells, they can be very formidable.

🌿 Seasonal Witch: Seasonal witches are in tune with nature, the passing of the seasons never goes unnoticed, it is celebrated, they work with the items they have in that particular season, never using out of season items in spells and rituals. They love the variation in seasons and always look forward to the next.

🌿 Spirit Witch: These are witches that find themselves drawn to the dark corners of magick, those that love to work with spirits, sometimes even demons in one form or another. .

🌿 Blood Witch: Blood Witches use blood in many of their spells and divination, whether it is adding blood to runes or into spell jars as an extra boost of personal energy. They are very adept at what they do and it is not one for the faint hearted.

🌿 Crystal Witch: Crystals call out to these magickal practitioners, they may find themselves picking up random stones at the beach, feeling a connection with them instantly and could be hiding a hundred strong collection of crystals under their bed. These magick users know each crystal by name and know all of their properties, very good at crystal healing, and often charging their newest pieces, they find a way to use crystals in every spell and ritual they undertake.

🌿 Chaos Witch: A chaos witch specializes in chaos magick, a very raw and potent magick. uncommon to most but very powerful to those who know how to practice it, they have very passionate personalities and strong minds.

🌿 Sigil Witch: Sigil witches commonly have little bits of paper scattered in every bag and pocket they have ever owned with small symbols and “doodles” on every side, a sigil witch loves to work with symbols, finding new ways to create them and secretly wear them, whether in necklaces or drawn on the backs of their hands. 

🌿 Lunar Witch: A lunar witch is one who is attuned to the movements of the moon, they always know when the next full moon, new moon, waxing, waning moon will be and have planned their spells and rituals accordingly. Usually with a new batch of moon water or a few charging crystals ready and prepared to be charged for the next full moon.

🌿 Bone Witch: These are the witches who find themselves being attuned to the use of bone and other naturally collected animal parts. They only take bones from naturally deceased creatures believing it to be a natural aspect of nature. 

🌿 Cosmic Witch: These witches have a love of all things space, timing their spells and rituals to the planetary alignments and stars. They may be found with their head in a horoscope book or with an eye through a telescope looking out for the next magickal opportunity.

🌿 Music Witch: With a spring in their step and a song in their heads, music witches have the ability to spell cast with their songs, chants, drumming and musical scores, they can make all music magickal and usually have an ear for it.

🌿 Secular Witch: A type of non-religious witch, they do not use deities in their practice

🌿 Eclectic Witch: An Eclectic Witch is one that takes bits and pieces from many forms of magick, they do not fit under a singular category as each witch will practice a slightly different tapestry of magick.

These are just a selection of the list, there are more added each day and no one needs to belong to any one.

I hope this really help someone out.

- HearthWitch

anonymous asked:

This sounds weird but could you give some advice to other fanfiction writers? You're really good. 💕

oh my goooooooood where are all you lovely people coming from tonight?? 

alrighty, let’s give this a go!

Fanfic Tips:

Character Motivation

This is my biggest thing. You should always, at any given moment, know what every character in a scene wants. What they want is going to dictate how they act and react to things. Without characters wanting things, nobody ever does anything, and your fic doesn’t exist. 

When characters have different motivations and have to come together, magic happens. And as characters develop, their motivations change. 

Great example?

what Luke wants (general motivation: freedom -> The Right Thing): to get off his uncle’s farm and get to go be with his friends at the academy -> to be a Jedi and fight for the rebellion -> to learn more but also keep his friends safe -> to redeem his father.

what Leia wants (general motivation: fight Empire): to get the Death Star plans to the rebel base and find Obi-Wan Kenobi -> to not be in the Empire’s clutches -> to blow up the Death star -> to not be in the Empire’s clutches -> to save Han -> to blow up the other Death Star 

what Han wants (general motivation: self-preservation -> protect friends): to get his hands on some money so that he doesn’t get killed by a mob boss -> to escape the empire -> to help the rebellion/keep his friends safe

(Obi-Wan, meanwhile, pretty much just wants to keep Luke safe, and help the rebellion if he can.)

All different, all interweaving, most of them changing as the characters are influenced by others, and learn and grow. 

So yeah. You gotta know this shit about your characters - it’s crucial. 

Tip? If you’re unsure about whether you know what they want, try making a list of all the important characters in your fic (and then potentially do this with most scenes, briefly) and work out what their main motivation/what they want is. Just…in general. In life. And then, once you’re in a scene, see how this plays into what they want in this exact moment, and how they’re going to go about trying to get it. 

Know Your Source Material

You don’t have to be an expert in your fandom to write fanfic, but the more you know, the easier it is to move through the world and build a story, because you know where you’re going and how things work. Wikis are your friend, especially when working in big universes like DW or SW. (Like, hell, I might know a lot about DW, and feel very comfortable in that universe, but I still find myself on the TARDIS Index File all the time, checking little random things. It’s a damn godsend, and every fandom has a wiki.)

Your Characters Are Just People

Make sure you let your characters fuck up once in a while. They’re fallible beings, they’re going to make rash decisions that backfire, they’re going to try something and fail, they’re going to say the wrong thing and piss somebody off. They’re going to maybe mean well but fuck up majorly, and that’s okay, that’s good. Let them apologise, let them learn from the consequences, let the healing of a wound in a relationship bring the people closer together. 

And yes, this still goes for characters that almost never do anything wrong, or are all ‘holier than thou’. They are still gonna go about some things the wrong way. 

Planning Is Good, But Be Flexible 

In my experience, while some people lean heavily towards one or the other, appropriate use of planning or gardening can depend heavily on what kind of story you’re writing. 

When writing more action based storylines, I’ve found it’s very easy to get stuck in the middle of them - you get the characters into a mess and get stuck for a month not knowing how to get them out. This is where planning tends to be handy. A good way of not getting stuck is to plan it all out in little increments, so there’s not too much room to get stuck. Also, plotting from the back. Start at the end. Works really well a lot of the time. 

If planning works for you, plan as much as you want. But, always, always, be ready to change something, if you try a bit of gardening and end up somewhere different to where you expected to be. Always follow what feels right over sticking with a plan. 

Gardening aka Let The Characters Take The Lead

…this is fanfic. Let’s be honest, we know that most of it is juicy interpersonal stuff. So while planning is all well and good, I think gardening works a lot better. When writing the maths teacher fic, I went in pretty much blind. I had a couple of vague ideas of what I wanted to achieve, but I also wanted the relationship I was developing to be as absolutely genuine/believable as possible (which, according to the general consensus, it is). 

The way to do that?

Don’t try and force things between the characters. Sometimes you might start a scene with a particular moment in mind, and that’s all good, but for me personally, I’ve found that you tend to get results that are more organic by simply going into a scene blind and seeing what the characters do. You should still, hopefully, have an idea of what you want to happen, but the characters and their ways of reacting to things should always come first. 

Seriously, if you’ve got the characterisation down, they’ll do the hard work for you. 

Maybe they’ll get to where you wanted, maybe they won’t. But it’s actually a really fun ride, doing it this way. When are they going to kiss? When are they going to fuck? Who knows? Not me! How could I know, when I haven’t yet seen/created the unique and particular path of events that gets them to that point? 

Like, I went into a chapter once, intending for a child character to kill a guy. But when it came to writing the scene, I just wasn’t quite sure if she would actually do it, even with her evil psychopathic mother egging her on. So I gave the kid the reins/gun, and sat back to see what happened. She ended up shooting him non-fatally, only for him to be killed by the vaguely disappointed mother instead. I was like “oh, okay, cool, that works”. 

Garden. Have fun letting the characters surprise you!


Dialogue is the make or break of a story, really. And the trick to dialogue is to make it authentic, and give the characters their own unique voices. 

First one is simple. Make sure the dialogue sounds like how people actually talk. Anyone who has read any of my fics knows that I use “-” and “…” and “um” and “uh” liberally. That’s because humans, modern day ones at least, aren’t always the most eloquent of creatures. We mumble and say the wrong thing, or get distracted halfway through, or forget what we were going to say, and hesitate when we’re unsure (even posh, eloquent characters, they just do it less and use bigger words in between). Let the characters do this. 

Saying the dialogue out loud will help a lot. Also, you could also try verbally paraphrasing a conversation from the fic to a friend, and you’ll likely find some of the dialogue coming out a lot more casually/authentically. 

As for giving the characters their own unique voices, that’s just down to knowing your canon and being in tune with the characters, which is a crucial thing but unfortunately not something I can really give advice on, you’ve gotta get those in your head on your own. 

Details Matter

Different details matter in different stories. And getting them wrong can really break the immersion.

If you’re writing characters that come from a different place to you, make sure you know how people from that place talk! Americans, don’t you fucking dare have a British character call somebody ‘Mom’, it breaks the immersion completely and makes me want to punch something. It’s ‘Mum’, for anyone from UK/Aus/NZ. And same with Brits writing American characters, but the other way around. This goes for any UK/US/Aus/NZ/Canada language difference. Find out what your character calls things.

Working details out can seem unnecessary, or going over the top, but honestly, half the time you realise that you’ve gone and got something wrong, and next thing you know the entire plot has a gaping hole in it, or a character doesn’t know something they got told three months back, but you forgot about it. 

Like, okay, I have a day by day plan of the timeline of the maths teacher fic (and, going forward, its general universe), because I was trying to weave in all this original material through the show canon (and now, write several stories/oneshot set at the same time within that verse, focused on different characters/things), and if I hadn’t done that, I would have royally fucked myself over multiple times. 

I’m not saying everyone has to make a timeline that detailed, because for a lot of stories it wouldn’t be remotely necessary, but it was for this particular one. 

But just details in general. Do your research, check that thing on the wiki, get specific with details about a character, even if they’re just a minor one (though maybe stick to just one or two details, in this case). 

This kind of goes along with show, don’t tell. Like you could tell the readers blatantly that a character loves a thing, or you could talk about how they wearing clothing printed with the thing and have them jabbering on about it excitedly, you know? 

Don’t be afraid to ask for help if you need information!

Seek out people who are experts in something you need to know about. This might be kink (bless the friends I’ve made through fic in the last six months or so, who have helped me in this area), or something specific to their country’s society/culture/choice of words for a certain thing. 

Also, if you’re trying to add diversity in your fics, and you hopefully should be, ask friends or people on Tumblr from within the group you’re trying to include to get information! Want to write a trans guy? Go find a trans guy to talk to about it! (I did this with a demigirl character recently, and got about four or five really helpful people more than happy to give me the info I was looking for, they were really excited about the prospect of demigirl characters existing at all.) It’s really easy to add in background diversity regardless of what fandom you’re writing for, and it can make a lot of difference to any readers who find themselves unexpectedly represented, even if only in a minor or one time character. 

In Conclusion:

Know your characters, and what they want, and how they talk. Let them lead the story, because they’re why you’re here, and doing all this. Give them real and imperfect voices and qualities, and let them make mistakes and apologise.

And do your research, so you get the details right.

I hope this helped! Now, go forth and write!

(And have fun! That’s the other big rule. Do it out of love, make yourself laugh, just have fun with it!) 

This is the youngest we’ve ever been and we’ll ever be
and I know that our paths didn’t cross without reason,
that this connection wasn’t as fleeting as the passing seasons.
I don’t want ten years to go by
and you’re missing me,
regretting letting me go.
I don’t want ten years to go by
and I’m thinking of what could have been,
regretting my decision to leave
and do what was best for me.
You’ve always made me want to live in the moment
and whenever I’m with you I feel infinite,
like the impossible will strike,
like our flame will never go out,
like I’ve met the one that intertwines with my soul so comfortably.
But maybe the reason we met
is so that I can be stronger when I come out of this mess,
so that I can forgive myself and stop being so reckless.
Maybe the reason we met
is so that I could appreciate the time we spent
and accept that some things are temporary.
Then I won’t lose sleep over you,
and my dreams will become mine again.
I don’t think you can live in my head anymore
and I don’t think I can hold anymore to these discarded memories,
and maybe I should start to see you for who you really are
then maybe you’ll fall in love with me.
But all I’m stuck with are these maybe’s
and you’re not here,
so I hold onto the possibilities,
but I’m making myself the main priority now
and giving the love I gave you to myself.
If you come back, fine.
If you don’t, fine.
But I will not rip myself apart in your absence anymore,
I will not become your ghost.
—  I AM

#transformationtuesday Today I turned 32. Felt like an appropriate moment to stop and appreciate how much I’ve grown and learned in the last year– How much more comfortable I am with myself and how peaceful my heart feels. Super grateful for my loving and supportive family and friends, and so grateful to finally feel unburdened by lifelong fears and insecurities. Life isn’t always 100% peaches and sunshine (it never is) but I feel like I’m living in color again and living as authentically as possible.

Chloe, 20, Cork, Ireland. Transgender woman. 

1. I think I was about 6 or 7 when I first understood that my gender mattered. I remember going shopping with my mom and my sister in our local toy store for babies and trying to make it as obvious as possible that we weren’t buying the dolls for ourselves, we would say loudly ‘I wonder if Chloe would like this one.’ We were afraid we would meet a child in one of our classes or meet a family friend and have to explain that we played with a toy that was by default gendered a “girls” toy. It wasn’t until my teenage years that I fully felt uncomfortable with my gender and it took me until I was 19 to fully realize that something had to change for me to feel comfortable in myself.

2-After coming out I had huge diaspora and struggled hugely leaving the house and speaking when I was out in public. There were moments where I would feel like I was doing the right thing and moments I thought I was going crazy. Gradually, over time, I started to feel the benefits of being true to myself. Everything felt natural to me, the clothes fitted my body better, my hair getting longer suited me more. I have started growing more as a person.  

5. My mother is my biggest support, she has been there through the good and the bad days. Some family members have struggled, but most are trying which is all I ask. My friends were the least phased when I came out and quickly adjusted to the new name and pronouns.

6. The biggest challenge I have faced has probably been the public scrutiny, hateful comments, misgendering, hateful videos being made of myself and my sister (she has a transgender older sister).  Living in a body that you feel doesn’t fully belong to you yet, is extremely painful, but dealing with people who think you are disgusting and sick is mentally draining.

7. I am perfectly imperfect and proud.

8. I hope someday I can have a family and be an unconditionally loving mother, just like mine has been to me.

9. We are equal members of society and deserve the same respect as anyone else.

11. What has been the hardest?

Losing family. The depression. Daily anxiety. misgendering in the workplace. The abuse.

12. I understand that my gender does not define me or who I am. I refuse to let gender roles and female/male privilege control me. We have used gender for centuries to overpower each other and use our gender as an excuse to get out of doing things that we would prefer not to do. Your gender should not be affected in the workplace, in society, in bathrooms, in relationships. Your gender is your own personal identity.


I really didn’t think it was going to be so controversial. And then to have the label of “revolutionary” pinned on you afterward felt really daunting. I kind of had a moment with myself, like, “OK. Is this what you want to do? Do you actually want to talk about issues? Is it worth it?” There are still moments now where I’m like, “Whoa, this is a lot of pressure.” But it’s worth it because when people come to me and say, “I’m more comfortable in my identity because of you,” or “I feel like you’ve given me a voice,” that’s the most powerful thing ever.


It took me awhile to realize my purpose
Sometimes my mind is clouded with what I should’ve could’ve would’ve been
Instead of valuing and appreciating what I am.

A beam of light, untouchable unstoppable
Only if I believe it
No one is going to believe in my powers if I don’t embody and embrace.

Apart of me wanted to be like everyone else because I didn’t fit in
I wanted to feel safe in this world.

I wanted to feel like I belonged here
There were times where I wondered what it would be like if I wasn’t here
But that was my own selfishness
I needed time and space to myself to really transition into what God created me to be.

The moment I felt uncomfortable in this world I knew I was getting closer to enlightenment.

Your comfort zone will kill you and I’ve died plenty of times before just to stand tall and remember my truth;
Remember my worth
Remember my calling
It has been here since birth.

I’m ready for my renewal
I’m ready to belong
But not to anyone else
I owe it all to myself.

Every challenge has turned into a lesson, disguised as a blessing.

I ran from problems because I was afraid of growth, afraid of my own success.

My trials transitioned me into a warrior as much as I complained and felt victimized to the idea that I’ll forever be a worrier.

Today I own myself, trust myself and most importantly I am thankful for my gifts of vulnerability and sensitivity.

My life purpose is to reconcile my
high ideals with practical reality
to accept , the world, and the present moment by embracing the perfection of all the apparent imperfection.

“When each person gives their own unique gift to the world, the entire fabric of the planet is strengthened and enriched.

For part of your purpose is to share what you’ve learned with others.

You align yourself with the heartbeat of the earth.”


The Ramblings of an Introvert// Spencer Reid

Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 7

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

A/N: I am actually really, really excited to start this. It may not be the brightest thing to do considering I already have so much else going on but I couldn’t help myself. Creativity strikes when it wants to. And it’s also written a little…differently. I hope you enjoy,

Originally posted by matthewgrayistherightway

Keep reading

The memories are
what killed me
day after day.

He was always in
the front of my mind,
right behind my eyelids.

His brown eyes
and sweet smile,
looking at me like he was
the luckiest guy in the world.

The comfort of having
his arms wrapped around
me in the early hours
of the morning.

Walking into a room
seeing his eyes light up
with a big smile saying
“Hey there beautiful.”

My best friend
always being there for me,
knowing each other like
the back of our hands.

My mind would always
drift back to these moments
no matter what I was doing.

Finding myself zoning out
staring blankly at a wall,
finally snapping out of it
to have stinging behind my eyes
and a lump formed in my throat.

Not being able to wrap
my head around my
new reality that I had
been forced into.

Killing me every time
knowing that he would
never be mine again,
with the gut wrenching
feeling of knowing
there wasn’t a damn
thing I could do about it.

—  the memories that kill ||
Giant: Ch. 3

Pack yourself a toothbrush dear
Pack yourself a favorite blouse
Take a withdrawal slip
Take all of your savings out
‘Cause if we don’t leave this town
We might never make it out.

Previously on Giant

There were still visits. Still calls, texts at all hours, weekends spent at home, weekends spent visiting. It was not as much as they’d like, but still, the friends kept in touch as much as they could, or hope. Kara didn’t regret her decision as much as she thought she would, only realizing into their first holiday without her father that she needed the time at home to fix herself and grieve properly that she wouldn’t have gotten if she’d gone away to school.

Keep reading

“Family does; family and friends, the comfort of being in a shared place. I don’t want to live in a mausoleum by myself. That doesn’t make it a home. The memories created in the house make it a home for me. Do I feel like I’m comfortable enough to strip down butt-naked in every room that we design, in this room? Or do I feel like I may not be comfortable to do that because there’s a gardener right there by the window? Can I have sex in this room? It’s got to be pleasing and comfortable and well put together, and can be photographed at any moment and put in a magazine.”

- Jeremy for HashtagLegend when asked what makes a house a home.