#so i do gardening and creative writing mostly

[dedalvs]

When will humankind learn the lesson of its hubris and begin to heal itself? Also can you recommend any undergraduate or graduate level resources (textbooks etc.) for learning about fiction? I already read Writing Fiction by Burroway. Thanks in advance

January 14, 3182. Make a note of the date and return to this post when it comes.

To your second question, I've never read anything on writing fiction, only writing in general. I've found something valuable in every book on writing, even if there were things in the book I found less valuable. For example, I read Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within by Natalie Goldberg, and while there was much of it I didn't care for, there are some passags that have stuck with me 22 years later. When it comes to writing guides, I think the best thing to do is read what interests you while understand that what you are really doing is building your own writing guide inside you. You're absorbing what you find personally meaningful and using it to create your own personal styleguide that, like it or not, you'll be following for the rest of your life. Rather than rejecting that, and trying to decide which text will be the text that tells you how to write, embrace it, realize that you are going to do what you're going to do, and then try to work within that framework. That is, if that's what's happening, how will you approach a styleguide? What will it mean to you to read a very didactic text (i.e. "All serious writers must do x; no serious writer every does y") vs. a loosey-goosey one (e.g. "Dance naked in the garden of your creativity and allow your flowers to bloom!")? What are you looking for in these texts and what will you do with information or strategies that you find valuable?

Returning to Writing Down the Bones, I have to say I found the book to be mostly woo. It was more a kind of self-help/empowerment book than a book on writing, in my opinion. But there is something in there that I'm sure I'd heard before but which finally resonated with me. Specifically, it was the way she articulated that it really, truly doesn't matter what you put on the page when you're drafting. Drafting is not the time to reject. Even some idea comes to you that you find absurd, illogical, thematically inappropriate—whatever. It's not the time to push it away. Indeed, it's wasted effort. Editing and revising is the time to question. If you're writing, you shouldn't let anything stop you—even your own brain.

Why it took till then for this idea to take root, I don't know. It could be how she worded it. It could be that it came at the right time. Perhaps I was more open to new ideas when I was reading this book. It may also have something to do with a transition that had taken place for me in writing. After all, when I started high school, I was not regularly using a computer (we'd only just gotten a computer that stayed at home). When I started writing, I wrote by hand—on paper. It's a much, much different thing to edit and revise when you're writing on paper than it is on when you're working on a computer! I mean, digital real estate is cheap. When you're writing by hand, it can literally hurt to write seven or eight pages—and then to discard them in editing! Right now I'm working on a novel draft where I've decided an entire section needs to come out. If I'd written that by hand?! I can't even imagine.

I guess the tl;dr of it is I don't have a specific text to recommend. Rather, I encourage you to look around and grab anything that interests you. In doing so, though, I encourage you to approach it differently, focusing on what in it you find valuable, without either wholly rejecting it or feeling you have to follow it to the letter like an Ikea manual. I even found something valuable in C. S. Lewis's The Abolition of Man, which I honestly can't believe I read.

If you'd like some fiction advice that may be generally useful no matter what you're writing, this is what I can offer:

A valuable skill to hone is being able to read your work as if you have no other knowledge of it. In other words, you need to be able to read your work like a reader. One of the most difficult things to do with fiction is to cut. You usually have a lot more characterization, a lot more plot points, a lot more detail, etc. than end up on the page. The important question is if you cut something, will the reader notice? Will it actually feel like something's miss it, or will a reader never notice? Mind, I'm not saying that as a writer you can't tell if something is superfluous, or that anything you cut will be superfluous. I'm saying sometimes even if you cut something important a reader will still get the impression that what they are reading is whole and unedited. That isn't a good thing or a bad thing: it's a neutral thing. The question you'll have to answer is what is this whole that the reader is getting, and is that whole something you're satisfied with?

Get multiple rounds of feedback from many different readers. I say this not because it's vital, because beta readers are important, because you have to have multiple perspectives on your work, etc. None of that. Getting feedback from many different readers is a form of self-care on the part of the writer. I was deathly afraid of feedback as a young writer. I welcomed praise, sure, but anything else felt too painful to bear. This changed when I took a short fiction class at Berkeley. Suddenly a short story of mine wasn't getting one round of feedback: it was getting fourteen. And not just from the professor, but from fellow students. This was a minor revolution for me in terms of accepting feedback. If I were to take, say, one round of feedback, certainly there would be some praise, but there would also be notes like "awkward phrasing", "why did x character do y?", "this is unclear", "too much description", etc. These things would burn me. I would seethe reading them, and it would hurt so deeply. But! Imagine that one of them circles a paragraph and writes "too much description" and then the other thirteen readers say absolutely nothing at all about that paragraph—maybe one even puts a smiley face next to it. THAT puts the criticism in its proper context. Maybe your writing isn't too bad! Maybe there isn't too much description. Maybe that particular reader just wasn't vibing with it, and maybe that's okay. And then let's look at it from the other perspective. Say thirteen out of fourteen papers have a sentence marked and all of them say things like "huh?", "what's this mean?", "confusing", etc. Guess what? The sentence is probably confusing. And for some reason if everyone's saying the same thing it hurts a lot less. It means, yeah, you probably made a little mistake, and that's okay. It's not one person singling you out, and it's not the case that they don't know what they're talking about. I can't emphasize enough how freeing it is to look at reviews of your work if you have a handful or more to draw from rather than just a single good friend.

It's okay to write the fun part first. You may have a plot device you're really excited about, but to get there, you have to introduce your characters, have them get together, have them go to a place, meet someone else, etc. And it may take time and energy to write all that. You may feel pressured to get through that before you get to the part you really want to write. You certainly can, but you do not have to. I don't know if younger writers can appreciate exactly what it means to have a computer. You can write a little bit now and literally copy and paste it into some other document later. Try doing that with a typewriter! You can write something like "Insert paragraphs later of characters traveling to x location". You can even drop a variable in there so it's easy to find with the search function later (e.g. "ZZZZZ insert scene description here"—now you just need to search for "ZZZZZ"). You can put it in a different color on the screen so it's easy to find when scrolling. You can paste a freaking photo into your document! It's extraordinary what you can do with a computer that you couldn't do in years past. You've got a ton of options. But most importanly, when your work is done, no one will know what order you wrote it in.

In fiction, nothing has to happen. Villains don't have to be punished; heroes don't have to win; characters don't have to have a specific arc that comes to some conclusion. Honestly, one of the tropes (if you can even call it a trope) that I find most frustrating in sequels for movie franchises is after the characters are introduced, they take a few character and assign to them the major story conflict, and then for the rest, they give them a mini arc. It's like, "Mondo 2: Exploding the Mondoverse sees our hero Larjo Biggins take on new villain the Krunge as the very core of the Mondoverse is threatened with destruction! Also, Siddles Nuli learns its okay to be left out sometimes and she shouldn't get her feelings hurt, and Old Mucko learns that even though technology is advancing, sometimes good old fashioned common sense is just what the doctor ordered!" If you get to the end of your story, and you feel it's done, you don't have to panic if you suddenly realize we don't know whether Hupsi ever made it to Bumbus 7. It's okay if Story A is resolved but Story B is not.

I don't care if you used Trope A in your new story even though you used Trope A in your past seven stories and neither should you. Seriously, you think anyone was complaining when Agatha Christie put out another mystery novel? "Oh. Mystery again, huh? Gee, we were all hoping you'd write a book about the struggles traditional fishing villages are facing in the wake of industrial modernization." No we fucking weren't!

I hope you find some of this useful. Whether you did or not, though, be sure you enjoy what you're doing. If you are, you're doing the right thing.

[vrystalius]

Can I send you an ask? What is Sanemi's daily life like with his family? What does Sanemi do to financially support (the squad was disbanded after Muzan's defeat) his wife and newborn children? They are triplets. I love your creativity and your kindness 💚

❕Sanemi’s daily life after the final battle

Note: I couldn’t decide on what exactly he would do, so I laid out a couple ideas out. Tomorrow I’ll be focusing more on writing more of my own ideas, so I might not do any asks of requests tomorrow, but I’m still happy to talk to you all!

(Spoilers for the Infinity Castle Arc)

The work life

Fighting instructor/Teacher

— Sanemi still has a lot of fight in him, and he can’t just sit home all day with you. The Ubuyashiki family still sends him and your payment for his service, but Sanemi still wants to do something in his free time. Besides, he could get some pocket money for you four. Maybe Sanemi could build a treehouse with that money? When his babies grow up, they could play all day in there!

— He enjoys working with young people and teaching them how to fight, both with fists and a katana. It reminds him of the time in the corps, although not always pleasant, it was still nostalgic.

— Sanemi found more patience inside him for his students, given that there is no looming threat that could take their life, the life of their partners and kids in the middle of the night anymore. Muzan is dead, and Sanemi uses that fact to remind himself to stay patient and calm.

— It doesn’t bring much money, Sanemi sometimes even doing it for free and just the fun of it. He just wants to feel helpful and teach some young men and women the basics of fighting and defending oneself.

Working on a farm

— Perhaps after having a mostly violent and stressful life, Sanemi would like to have some peace after the final war against Muzan. It would be therapeutic for him to loosen the earth, throw some seeds around and water the soil, and then watch it grow. He treats the plants very carefully and made sure none of them died or dried out.

— Once the triplets were old enough, he would start teaching them about plants too. Sanemi would talk about how to grow them, what they can do or what you can cook with them. After harvesting, he and the kids would cook the whole evening, letting you just sit back and watch.

— Sanemi would pride himself of the fact that he can provide food for his family through his farm/garden.

Opening a small shop

— Sanemi would maybe open up a small shop, mainly selling sweets and snacks.

— He would prepare all the sweets himself: dango, ohagi, mochi and more. Sanemi looks scary, yes, but once the locals gave him a chance, Sanemi got accepted into the community as their local former-samurai-shop-owner.

— The kids loved buying sweets in his shop and ask for some stories about demons. Are they really real anyway?

— Sanemi would of course leave out all the gruesome details and just tell them stories about heroics and victories, romanticising his experiences. They would eat it up every time, the stories and the sweet.

The daily life

— Sanemi wakes up everyday thanking the gods for gifting him a family like this. Then, he would either roll over and cuddle you, or just pull you closer to himself when he’s already holding you. The mornings with him are cuddly and affectionate, since Sanemi is still sleepy and the most vulnerable. You two would talk about the tasks ahead and what to do with the kids today.

— You just recently gave birth to three beautiful baby boys, and the pregnancy still affected you. You couldn’t leave the bed yet, so Sanemi made sure to pamper you plenty.

— After receiving his energising kisses and pampering you with cuddles, Sanemi would crawl out of bed and check up on the babies. Simply watching them sleep made him feel peace and serenity inside. After changing some diapers and some rocking, he would bring the babies to you for feeding and bonding. While you were busy, Sanemi would go make some breakfast.

— Most of Sanemi’s day consists of running errands, shopping, and taking care of your and the boy’s needs. He enjoyed it though. A peaceful life is something he appreciates, although he can’t help it but sometimes miss the feeling of slaying and beheading demons.

— In the evenings, Sanemi would light some candles on Genya’s shrine, and he would pray to his little brother and the rest of his family, thanking them for watching over him and his own little family. He sets out some bowls of snacks onto the shrine like watermelon, still remembering how Genya used to love them.

— Sanemi would leave the door between your bedroom and the nursery wide open, finding peace in knowing that in case something happens, he’s right here.

— He would hold you close, whispering thank-you’s and I-love-you’s into your ear, wanting to make sure that you feel loved and appreciated by him.

“I love you so, so much. Thank you for giving me all this..”

💠

Thank you for reading! Man, I never could’ve imagined how much writing would tire me out… But it always makes me extremely happy to see all your reblogs and likes! I especially love the ones that are just literally drooling over the mentioned character(s). It makes me so happy every time. Thank you all for your support, I’m looking forward to write more for you!

But anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves <3

My masterlist for the hashira.

My masterlist for the demons.

[blakbonnet]

AUTHOR OF THE WEEK: @adhduck

Please give it up for the nicest and one of the most creative writers in this fandom: Duck! I'm just such a fan because not only does Duck manage to write the softest, gentlest, loveliest Ed and Stede (both together and apart), their fics somehow perpetually keep me looking like 🥹 all the time ough. And they were very very nice about sharing their writing process with me:

What's your writing process like? Do you start with the beginning or the end? Do you write in order or as the scenes come to you?

Mostly it’s the Taika “look at a document for 8 hours and then close the document,” honestly. I’m a very slow writer and lose motivation very easily, so I mostly get by on the muse’s fire hydrant and forcing myself to write those fifty words even when every single one feels so bad.

I go moooostly beginning to end because even though I’m generally an outliner, I always end up with little details that will affect later scenes and I don’t wanna lose continuity or have to rewrite a bunch. However, I do definitely let myself do a [finish this scene later] and move on to the next scene because otherwise I will get really fucking stuck, and sometimes I’ll write a line or a paragraph I thought of that sounds really good and tuck it away for a later scene.

Favourite trope or headcanon you like to explore while writing?

Ooooooooh, I don’t know if this is a trope but there’s just nothing I love more than huge feelings contained in mundane stories, of feelings so big you can’t actually express them and so they’re this constant hum throughout the story. I also love writing about touch for both of them, how Ed gives casual touch to hide the deep well of desire for intimate touch, how Stede is so unused to touch and craves it so deeply. (Can you tell I just really like subtle yet overwhelming emotions? Maybe it’s the aroace in me idk but that shit hits HARD.) Oh, and I love a fuckin’ allegory or object to discuss all those big feelings, whether it’s monsters or gardening or peaches or what the fuck ever (I have used all of these lol).

Whose voice is easier to write - Ed or Stede? Why?

I think Ed’s voice comes to me faster because the way I personally speak is closer to Ed’s voice, but it also means I’m sometimes double-checking myself to make sure I’m still deep in his voice, not my-voice-but-Ed. Stede isn’t necessarily harder for me, I’m just doing all that double-checking to make sure I’m not slipping into Ed voice or, god forbid, Aziraphale-lite voice. So, idk! I love writing them both, the little details of each of their inner dialogues are SO important to me (Ed’s tangents and his pshh-I-don’t-care moments, Stede actively avoiding thinking about things he doesn’t want to face, etc etc etc).

Your personal favourite thing you've written that you'd like more people to read

For the longest time it was There is Love That Doesn’t Have a Place to Rest, mostly because it was posted the day before another fic and, while I find them to be siblings and equal quality,  the other one got way more attention. That fic is about the time between signing the Act of Grace and getting to the academy and I think I really nailed where the two of them are at.

However! (And I know this is cheating okay shh.) Nowadays the one that I wish people read the most is Not Only the Sugar, But the Days. It’s the sequel to my “offscreen 30 year slowburn friends to lovers finally get together” fic and I put my whole fucking heart into it, honestly. The two boys basically go on a bunch of dates to live out the teenage experiences they never got together and work through the biggest feelings and I just! Really want people to see it! (It also can be read as a standalone, which I didn’t advertise super well lol.)

What is the one word that you think you use a lot?

Unfortunately it’s probably “just” or “a little” or filler words like that. Also obviously if the word fuck counts then, yeah, that. Maybe warm? Or something about yearning??? If I have a classic word please tell me I’m fascinated by this idea.

Do you have a beta reader? Have they made you a better writer?

The person who beta’s for basically all my fics is Owen @trans-top-stede and they are sooooo fucking helpful and incredible. So good at catching all the little things I miss, making sex scenes make sense, reminding me positioning in general is a thing, cheerleading me on, etc etc etc. My fics are so much better for their help.

Why OFMD 🥹

Ed and Stede just fit so fucking well into all sorts of AU’s (they try to invent their own AU’s in canon, even) while also having so much fun space to explore within canon. Their range is also perfect perfect perfect for writing fics—they can be in the wells of misery and fluffy as fuck and obnoxiously cheesy and realistic all in the same fic, if you want, and it’s completely accurate to their canon selves. It’s also helped me to embrace being silly and cheesy and earnest because life is about being yourself and finding your people and feeling deeper, feeling bigger, feeling more authentically without fear of being too much. Fuck I just really love these boys. (Also they’re so pretty and the whole crew’s so pretty we WON.)

Please head over to @ofmdlovelyletters (who also made the header) and send your love to all your favourite authors (and authors of the week 😈 watch that blog for some special letters coming your way)

[alpaca-clouds]

Why Does Everyone Struggle With Solarpunk Stories?

Fun Fact: My own introduction to Solarpunk happened in Germany on a German convention. I met a friend, who I had not seen in quite a few years in the creator alley, and they and their partner had just brought out an indie comic, which they introduced as a Solarpunk comic.

I do however wonder whether it really could be considered Solarpunk now, as it was mostly fantasy (which in itself is not a criterium), but the main overlap with Solarpunk generally was this idea of using the Art Noveau aesthetic for everything. From what I remember, it was not really very concerned with any of the Solarpunk themes - nor with anything considered Solarpunk technology - though I do remember some flying machines that were powered by sun energy.

But it makes me think about one thing: There are still barely any explicit Solarpunk novels out there. Like, there are a few, yes, but barely any. Most of what is considered Solarpunk works is stuff that folks among the Solarpunk community have looked at and gone: "Oh, yeah, this kinda feels Solarpunk, doesn't it?"

Most of the Solarpunk books out there are in fact anthologies. (And yes, I plan to continue reviewing those, I right now just struggle with reading because of health-related issues.) And even among those anthologies I will look at half the stories and think to myself: "Well, but are they really Solarpunk?"

In some cases that is because the stories in question are really build around too much of a dystopia. In other cases it is, because even the technology/ecology part is not really there.

And sure, I am talking a lot about how it is fairly easy to tell a Solarpunk story if you just let go of the idea that a Solarpunk story has to be one certain thing - rather than any kind of story that is set in a Solarpunk setting and deals with Solarpunk themes. But on the other hand it is not like I am writing a whole lot in the genre either, is it?

Admittedly the reason for me might be a bit of another one than for other writers. For me it is simply that I find it currently hard to motivate myself to write anything in terms of original fiction, because... Well, writing fanfics is just a whole lot more fun, and also will get me a lot more feedback and such.

And of course, on the side of the publishing industry I just don't know if anyone but Android Press and World Weaver Press even do much in publishing of Solarpunk stories? I am honestly not entirely certain.

But there definitely is some sort of struggle here right now. And that is without me going into the fact that half of what is published in Germany with the lable of "Solarpunk" is actually Cyberpunk but with some mild ecological themes in there.

And yeah, all in all it really makes me wonder, where the issue lies.

Is it a thing of a missing community for Solarpunk creatives, especially writers? Because I know that most online Solarpunk communities focus a ton on guerilla gardening, second hand clothes, and right to repair - but just don't have a ton of striving creative groups among them. The one Discord Server for Solarpunk writers I was on got deleted by the mod for being inactive.

So, yeah. I don't know.

Would someone be interested in another sort of community for Solarpunk creatives? And if so, what kind of community?

[shinobusupremecy]

Hello, could you do some hc about shinobu x gn reader who's love language is biting?

Like someone's just having a conversation with shinobu and you has appear behind her and *chomp*??

(This part is up to you: )

Would be funny to see what would happen if reader was a demon 💀💀

Like the first time it happens shinobu almost kills reader but she doesnt feel their teeth and there wasn't even a bite mark left behind? It's like their version of a kiss?

Shinobu x gn!demon reader whos love language is biting

a/n: Dropping this off before i resume back to my cave. I am trying to find motivation to fix my post so I can make it clear I am writing genshin women too. The ones I will write for is beidou, ei, yae miko, ninguangg, shenhe, ganyu and mostly the others. Some characters I might not be good at writing like Ninguang or Kequing but I will try my best!!!

I am also trying to work on some of the more older reauest that has just been picking up dust in my inbox, sinceriest apologize!

🦋- Shinobu first thought it was a odd thing, biting their loved ones? Never heard of it.

🦋- First time you did it Shinobu nearly killed you.

🦋- Sitting on a tree doing whatever you saw a short girl stand a few feet with her back turned to you.

🦋- You looked at her and decided she was chompble so being sneaky as you are you just went behind her and chomped. She didn’t notice anything at first before realizing a demonic precens leading to her turning around and trying to stab you with her sword.

🦋- She didn’t really have anything to be pissed about since she didn’t even know you bit her.

🦋- After alot of you trying to convince her that you are a good demon and not getting killed, she stopped trying to kill you and reluctantly you were offered shelter since you looked a bit skinny near starving.

🦋- Strangely enough or not you could consume human food but mostly meat and that did satisfy your hunger but Shinobu still kept a close eye on you.

🦋- Months of you helping out in the mansion, maybe killing other demons and helping the demon slayer corps she trusted you well enough and counted you as a friend.

🦋- When you guys were friends never did you bite her except the first one but she didn’t know. So the first time you did and she actully noticed she thought you had succumbed to your demonic insticts and desire for humans leading to her nearly killing you. After again insisting it is just your way of showing love she just stood there like: ”what-”🧍‍♀️

🦋- After a few times she would probably move away or halfheartedly shove your face away so your teeth doesn’t reach her.

🦋- After you guys got a little more comfortable with your relationship she just let you do it. It was your way to express your love to her, who is she to stop you? She even found it cute sometimes.

🦋- She gave you a warning though not to do it infront of slayers since you are a demon.

🦋- You didn’t listen to her warnings and still bit her even when slayers were around leading to near disastrous misunderstandings.

🦋- Words spread that you are a innocent demon or didn’t eat and kill people so your name was at least cleared. Although that didn’t stop people from being surprised everytime they had a conversation with Shinobu and you just walked behind her and *chomp*

🦋- Shinobu tried to ignore it but she couldn’t for long and just excused herself before trying to chide you. She could never be angry at you for long but she did say that she do not want you to bite her when there are many people around or like in town at evenings and nights.

🦋- Now though Shinobu likes your little love language and think it is a creative strange way of kissing.

🦋- You usally bite her hand, arm or neck like a vampire.

🦋- Sometimes you two could be holding hands and you just take her hand up and chomp. Other times when you two are in the garden and she reaches up to pick an apple you take that oppurtunity to grab her arm and chomp.

🦋- It is at least one chomp a day but Shinobu isn’t complaining. If anyone think you are weird then Shinobu will proudly defend you!

[kirk-says-wah]

Hello hello ☎️

I have a request for you that is possibly a little silly or maybe awful? You decide.

Picture this: a 4th of July Party, at Jason's house, in 1992.

James (an idiot) is in the kitchen alone and tries to open a beer bottle with his teeth, but oh no! He breaks his tooth in the process! While the party is happening outside!

Please expand on this, how will they all sort it out? What will James do? Who will help him? Will he cry? I give you complete creative control.

anyway I love you and hope you're doing good! 🫂💖

Ahhh Julian!! *hugs you* thank you for the request! This was fun to write! I’m so sorry, this turned out sappier than I intended 😆💕

𝐓𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐚𝐢𝐥

Pairing: James/Jason

This party is shit.

Jason’s sound system is only half working, there’s hardly any girls, and someone’s already threw up in the living room.

James only came because Jason said “dude it’s gonna be the best fucking party you’ve ever been to,” and he doesn’t go to Jason’s house much, they always go over to James’ house. He also can’t resist Jason with those goddamn puppy eyes.

He’s cramped himself in the kitchen to grab a piece of alone time before having to go out and face the group. He’s not drunk but he’s fairly tipsy. Some shit techno pop is pounding the walls, and he wonders if maybe he should sneak out or something.

Or maybe he just needs to get more drunk.

The other guys are in the garden, mingling with the rest of the crowd, and James knows that he definitely needs to drink more if he wants to fit in. He’s never been good at making small talk. Even when he’s a fucking rock god. That’s always the downside to these kind of parties. He’s only good at talking about his band, but even then most people don’t really give a fuck.

He sighs, grabbing a beer from the fridge, fucking Coors Light, and twists at the cap with fingers.

The top doesn’t budge.

He frowns, tries again, but still it’s not going anywhere.

Great. This is just what he needs.

He tries to get his frustration under control and tries to flip the cap off to no avail, so he does the only thing he can think of.

He brings the beer up to his mouth, tries to pry the metal top off with his teeth, when all of a sudden there’s a resounding crack, and his mouth goofs the bottle, a sharp pain emanating through the front of his teeth.

Shit. Shit fuck shit shit bastard.

He puts his finger in his mouth, swipes over the front set of teeth, only to find one considerably shorter than the rest, the edges jagged and broken.

James takes in a deep breath. Okay maybe this isn’t as bad as he thinks. Maybe no one will even notice.

He puts his beer on the side before going back into the main room, twisting between swaying bodies until he’s in the bathroom.

There’s a couple kissing in there, but with one wave of his hand they’re out of there quicker than lighting. James smirks to himself. Sometimes he loves the power he holds over people.

He locks the door before finally standing in front of the mirror, ignoring his unkempt hair. He lifts up his top lip with his fingers.

Yep. It’s as bad as he thought. His front tooth is so short it almost looks like it’s not there, leaving a dark hole.

He swears, drops his fingers before giving a feigned smile.

Nope that’s no better.

He sighs, white knuckling the sink. He tries to think who he can go to to help him.

Lars won’t be any help. He’d just laugh at him and cause a scene.

Kirk isn’t much help when he’s sober, but he’s already mostly drunk so he’d be no better.

Which leaves him with Jason. Fuck. Jason will probably laugh too but out of the three of them he seems the most proactive and will hopefully be a little bit more concerned.

Now James just needs to figure out how to get his attention without opening his mouth. He needs to do it before the fireworks go off because Jason will just get distracted.

He takes one last look at his busted tooth before taking a deep breath and exiting the bathroom.

The house is mostly empty as he makes his way to the back door, and he keeps his lips firmly shut, can’t help but let his tongue prod at his broken tooth.

He passes Lars and Kirk, sat with their girls by the beer kegs, and Lars waves him over but James just ignores him. He can deal with their bitching later.

He spots Jason at the top of the garden, sorting through cassettes, and he quickly jogs over to him.

Jason smiles, lets his fingers fall from the box he was digging in, and springs forwards, obviously drunk. His hair falls around his face, his tshirt tight against his chest.

“Dude, what the fuck’s wrong with your face?” Jason asks, noting the deep frown wrinkling James’ forehead, but James doesn’t want to talk about it out here. Everyone will see, and he’s not gonna make a fool of himself. He’s James Fucking Hetfield. He’s not a fucking pussy, and he certainly doesn’t chip his teeth on beer bottles.

The rough edge of his tooth says otherwise.

He roughly grabs ahold of Jason’s arm, sinks his fingers into his jacket before dragging him back to the house, ignoring the questions Jason shoots his way until they’re finally in the bathroom.

It’s empty, luckily, and he locks the door behind them, turning to see Jason perched on the edge of the tub. His cheeks are pink, eyes glazed slightly as he sways on the bathtub, the overhead light highlighting the flush up his neck.

“What’s up, man?” he asks, head cocking. “You can’t fuck me in the middle of the party.”

James hopes he’s joking, but his mind momentarily flashes back to a party a few months ago where Jason had pressed him against the wall and sucked on his neck hard enough to leave a bruise that people kept pointing out.

James grinds his jaw, tries to bring his mind to the present and not get hard, and finally works up the courage to speak.

He hovers his hand over his mouth, covering the offending tooth, and says “don’t fucking laugh.”

Jason squints, face sobering a little.

“What’s going on?”

“Just, promise me,” James pleads. He already feels humiliated, and he doesn’t want anyone making him feel like shit, least of all Jason.

“Fine I won’t,” Jason says, standing up now with an edge of concern.

James looks at him for a moment before sighing.

He gingerly pulls his top lip up, exposing his chipped tooth.

Jason’s face cracks and James scowls.

“Don’t you dare.”

“I’m not laughing,” Jason says, but he definitely is, laughter bubbling up in thick waves as he tries to suppress it.

James quickly pulls his lip down, crossing his arms.

“Don’t fucking laugh at me,” he complains. “It’s not my fucking fault.”

“Well, who punched you?” Jason asks.

“My beer,” James says, feeling a bit stupid. “I couldn’t get the lid off.”

Jason bursts into another fit of laughter, wheezing loudly, and James feels shame creep onto his cheeks.

“Forget it,” he mumbles, turning to leave, but Jason just grabs his arm.

“I’m sorry,” Jason says, voice even now, and he steps into James’ personal space, though there’s still a smile dimpling his cheeks.

“No you’re not,” James says, doesn’t look at him, and Jason sighs.

“It was just a shock,” Jason says, lets his hands wander up onto James’ shoulders. “You’re still beautiful to me.”

James blushes, ducks his head a little. Fuck, he really can’t get all sappy when they’re at a fucking party. But still his legs go a bit weak. Fuck Jason.

“We can go and fix this now,” Jason says, reaching up to push James’ hair from his face. “No one will even know.”

“But your party,” James says, finally looking at Jason.

Jason just shakes his head.

“You’re more important,” he says. “Especially when you look like you’re gonna cry.”

James scowls and punches Jason’s arm, and Jason giggles.

“Cmon,” Jason says, cupping James’ jaw.

He leans forward, expecting a kiss, and James rolls his eyes before leaning forwards, pressing his lips to Jason’s.

He can’t help but open his mouth after a moment, their tongues intermingling, until Jason yelps, pulling away.

“What?” James asks, breathless but concerned.

Jason prods at his tongue before he says, “your tooth is sharp.”

James can’t help the laugh that filters up through his throat at that.

It seems like it’s not the end of the world after all.

Jason gets his chauffeur to drive them to the emergency dentist, and he’s not in there long before they’ve fixed his tooth. It looks like nothing ever happened.

They manage to slip back into the party unnoticed, just in time for the fireworks, and James stands close to Jason, lets their hands thread together, covered by the sleeve of his jacket.

[drewharrisonwriter]

One Day at a Time - Ch. 2: A New Life

Pairings: Dave York x Female Reader

Series Summary: A man washed ashore, with no memory, and no name, finds a home and a life in the middle of nowhere.

Author's Notes: This story has been sitting in my drafts for over a year, waiting for the perfect moment to see the light of day. It wasn't until recently that I found the inspiration to finally finish the last two chapters, thanks to the incredible Keri @absurdthirst. Her story, "Washed Up," struck a chord with me—it had such a similar plot and concept to what I had in mind, and it reignited my passion to bring this piece to life. Keri's writing has been a constant source of solace and inspiration, and I'm endlessly grateful for her creativity and the way she crafts stories that speak to the soul. If you haven’t checked out her work, you absolutely should!

Warnings: Please be aware that this story contains elements of violence, explicit sexual content, and pregnancy. Additionally, there are medical inaccuracies throughout—because I don’t work in the medical field, so please take it all with a grain of salt. Enjoy the ride, and thank you for reading! 😊

Read this on AO3 | Check out my Masterlist

The first few weeks at the farm passed in a rhythm that was both comforting and unfamiliar to Dave. Each morning, the soft light of dawn would filter through the curtains of his room, a guest suite on the main floor that felt both welcoming and distant. He’d wake to the sounds of the farm coming alive—the lowing of cows in the distance, the rustle of chickens in their coop, and the steady hum of daily chores.

Your home, he quickly realized, was a reflection of you—cozy, lived-in, and filled with small touches that spoke of a life well-lived. The guest room where Dave stayed was simple but comfortable, with a large window that looked out over the garden. The walls were lined with wooden shelves, filled with books that ranged from classic literature to modern novels. A few potted plants sat on the windowsill, adding a touch of green to the room.

Each morning, after a quiet breakfast, you’d drive him to his physical therapy appointments. The drive was peaceful, the road winding through the countryside, past the long stretch of beach, past fields and clusters of trees that seemed to stretch on forever. At first, the car rides were filled with silence, both of you unsure of what to say. But gradually, as the miles passed under the tires, the conversation began to flow more easily.

“So,” you said one day as the car bounced over a small hill, “what do you think of the farm so far?”

Dave glanced out the window, watching the landscape blur by. “It’s… it feels like it’s different from what I feel like I’m used to…,” he admitted. “Peaceful. I think I like it.”

You smiled, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. “I’m glad. It’s a lot of work, but it’s good work. Keeps me busy.”

“What do you do here, exactly?” he asked, curious. “I mean, besides running the farm.”

You hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “I work from home, mostly. I’ve got a little office space in the house—well, that desk between the kitchen and the living room, really. But I do a lot of freelance work—writing, editing, that sort of thing. It’s flexible, which is nice since the farm demands a lot of attention.”

He nodded, processing this. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”

“I do,” you agreed, “but I like it that way. The farm keeps me grounded. And the work… well, it keeps my mind busy.”

He glanced at you, sensing there was more beneath the surface, but not wanting to push. “You said you inherited the farm, right?”

You nodded, your expression thoughtful. “Yeah. It was my father’s, though I never met him. He left it to me in his will. I was… surprised, to say the least. But it felt like the right thing to do, to come here and make it work.”

“Must’ve been tough,” he said quietly.

“It was,” you admitted. “Especially since I lost my mom a few years ago. She had dementia, and it was… hard. But the farm gave me something to focus on, something to build.”

The conversation fell into a comfortable silence after that, the kind that didn’t need to be filled with words. Dave found himself growing more at ease in your company, the awkwardness of relying on you slowly fading as he accepted this new reality.

Back at the farm, the routine was simple but steady. You’d help him with his at-home exercises, prepare his medication, making sure he took everything the doctors prescribed. On days when he didn’t have appointments, you’d often find him sitting by the large window in your office space, watching as you worked. The clacking of your keyboard as you typed on your laptop, mixed with the crackle of George Harrison singing on a vinyl record playing in the background, created an atmosphere of calm that Dave hadn’t realized he needed or felt like he even knew about in a past life.

“Do you always listen to music while you work?” he asked one afternoon, as the warm tones of a former Beatle’s record filled the room.

“Always,” you replied, smiling as you tapped away at the keys, your reading glasses perched on your nose. “It helps me focus. Plus, it just feels right—like the house has its own rhythm, you know?”

He nodded, though he wasn’t sure if he fully understood. Still, he couldn’t deny that there was something soothing about the way the music blended with the sounds of the farm outside. It made the house feel alive, as if it were a part of you.

“George Harrison?” He asked with a sly smile and a raised brow. You looked over to where he was sitting, the sleeve of the record in his hand. And you snickered, “Do you even remember George Harrison?”

Dave sat and pondered for a second and shook his head, but said, “I have a feeling I do…” and with that, you both laughed a little and shook your head at the lightness of the situation. 

As the days turned into weeks, the two of you settled into an easy routine. You’d work in the mornings, while Dave spent time outside, slowly regaining his strength as he walked through the fields or helped with small tasks around the farm. The farmhand, an older man named Tom, would come by in the afternoons, offering a hand with the heavier work that you are not able to fully manage on your own. 

Tom was a man of few words, but he seemed to take a liking to Dave–or John, as you all call him in this life, showing him the ropes and explaining the ins and outs of farm life. “You ever worked on a farm before, John?” Tom asked one day, as they repaired a section of the fence that had come loose.

Dave shook his head, wiping sweat from his brow. “Not that I can remember.”

“Well, you’re a quick learner,” Tom grunted, giving the fence a solid tug to make sure it held. “And you’ve got good instincts. That’s half the battle.”

Dave felt a small surge of pride at the compliment, even as he brushed it off. “I just do what you tell me.”

Tom chuckled, a rare sound. “Maybe so. But you’ve got a knack for this. Just keep at it.”

The days passed in this steady rhythm, the quiet of the farm broken only by the occasional visit from the doctor or the drive into town for supplies. And with each passing day, Dave found himself growing more comfortable, more at home in this new life.

One evening, after a particularly long day of work, you suggested a small celebration. “The doctor said you’re doing great,” you told him as you set out two glasses on the kitchen counter. “I think that calls for a drink, don’t you?”

He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly. “I’m not sure… I don’t really remember if I drank much before.”

You laughed softly. “Well, we can start with something simple. How about a glass of wine?”

He nodded, though there was still a trace of uncertainty in his eyes. You poured a glass of wine for yourself, but when you handed him his, he took a small sip and then set it down, a slight frown on his face.

“Not quite right?” you asked, curious.

“Not really,” he admitted, glancing at the bottle.

You considered for a moment, then reached into the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of scotch. “How about this? A scotch, neat?”

He accepted the glass, bringing it to his lips. The moment the amber liquid touched his tongue, something clicked—familiar, comforting. He nodded slowly, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth as the warm burn lined through his insides. “This… this is better.”

You smiled, watching as he took another sip, this time more confident. “I had a feeling,” you said softly.

The evening wore on, the two of you sitting together in the living room, the soft glow of the lamps casting a warm light over the room. The conversation flowed easily, the tension that had once hung between you now replaced by a comfortable familiarity.

As the night grew darker, the scotch in his glass dwindling, you both moved to the couch and Dave found himself studying you more closely—the way your eyes sparkled when you laughed, the way you leaned back in your chair, relaxed and at ease. There was a warmth to you, a kindness that he couldn’t help but be drawn to.

You caught his gaze, your smile fading slightly as something unspoken passed between you. The air seemed to thicken, the space between you charged with a sudden, undeniable tension.

He set his glass down on your coffee table, his hand brushing against yours as he did. The touch was light, almost accidental, but it sent a jolt through him, a spark that ignited something deeper.

You didn’t pull away. Instead, you met his gaze, your eyes searching his as if trying to read the thoughts behind them. Slowly, tentatively, he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice low, uncertain.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yeah,” you whispered. “It’s okay.”

The kiss that followed was slow, almost hesitant, as if both of you were testing the waters, unsure of where this would lead. But as the seconds passed, the hesitation melted away, replaced by a heat that built between you, drawing you closer.

The kiss left both of you breathless, a charged silence filling the room as you pulled back just enough to look into each other’s eyes. The connection between you, already deepening over the past few weeks, now felt electric—an unspoken understanding that this moment was a turning point.

Dave’s hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “I don’t… I don’t know where this is going,” he admitted, his voice low and filled with a mix of uncertainty and something more.

“Neither do I,” you replied, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “But I want to find out.”

He nodded, his lips curving into a small, almost relieved smile. “Yeah… me too.”

The kiss that followed was deeper, more urgent, as if the acknowledgment of your shared desire had opened a floodgate of feelings. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer, and you felt the heat between you intensify, your bodies pressing together in a way that left no room for doubt.

The space around you seemed to shrink as the kiss deepened, your heart pounding in your chest as his hands began to explore, sliding up your back, then down to your hips. You responded in kind, your fingers slipping under his shirt, feeling the hard muscles of his abdomen tense under your touch.

“Let’s move to your room,” you whispered against his lips, your breath coming in short, heated bursts.

He hesitated for the briefest of moments, his brow furrowing slightly, but then he nodded, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah… okay.”

Taking his hand, you led him down the hallway to his room, the low light casting soft shadows on the walls as you entered the space that had become his sanctuary during his recovery.

Once inside, the urgency between you only grew. Dave’s hands found the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head in one swift motion before his lips were back on yours, hungry and demanding. You responded with equal fervor, your hands working to unbutton his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders to reveal the taut muscles of his chest.

You could feel the tension in his body, the way he held back just enough to maintain control, but you wanted more—needed more. You reached for the waistband of his pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them, your hands sliding inside to feel the heat of his skin beneath the fabric.

He groaned against your lips, the sound vibrating through you as you shoved his pants down, exposing his hardness. Your hand, warm and trembling with desire, wrapped around his thick length, the heat of him pulsing against your palm. You stroked him slowly at first, savoring the way he filled your hand, the tautness of his skin, the weight of him. His breath hitched, a sharp intake of air that was almost a whine, and it sent a thrill through you, a rush of power that made your own need flare.

With a firm but gentle push, you guided him to sit on the edge of the bed. He obeyed, his eyes never leaving yours, a blend of anticipation, need, and uncertainty swirling in their depths. You knelt before him, his cock even harder now, glistening with precum, a testament to how long it had been since he’d felt this kind of touch. Your hands rested on his thighs, feeling the tension there, the way his muscles clenched beneath your touch as you looked up at him, your gaze questioning.

“Are you okay with this?” you asked softly, your voice a breathy whisper that seemed to echo in the quiet room.

He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. “I… yeah. I just… I don’t think I’ve ever…”

A small smile played on your lips as understanding dawned. “It’s okay,” you whispered, your voice soothing. “Just relax and let me take care of you.”

Without breaking eye contact, you leaned forward, your tongue flicking out to tease the sensitive underside of his cock, trailing a wet stripe from the base to the tip. His reaction was immediate, his whole body tensing as a sharp gasp escaped his lips, his hips jerking slightly. The sound, the way he responded so helplessly, ignited something deep within you. You took him into your mouth, slowly at first, letting him feel every inch as you slid down, your lips and tongue working in tandem to drive him wild.

His hands found their way into your hair, fingers tangling in the strands, pulling slightly as he let out a deep, guttural moan, the sound reverberating through your entire being. You could feel his restraint, the way he fought against the urge to thrust into your mouth, the way his body trembled with the effort to stay still. It was intoxicating, knowing how much control you had over him in this moment.

Dave’s breath came in ragged gasps, his hips twitching involuntarily as he tried to maintain control, his face a picture of raw, unfiltered pleasure. His grip on your hair tightened, a silent plea for more, and you obliged, taking him deeper, your throat relaxing to accommodate him as your tongue swirled around the tip. You felt him throb in your mouth, a desperate moan escaping his lips as he fought against the overwhelming pleasure threatening to consume him.

“Oh, God,” he groaned, his voice thick with need. “This… this feels… so fucking good.”

You hummed around him in response, the vibration causing him to shudder, his fingers tightening in your hair as he pushed just a little deeper, losing the battle against his own instincts. His hips moved in small, jerky motions, unable to resist the urge to fuck your mouth, even as he tried to hold back.

The taste of him, the way he reacted to your every movement, only fueled your desire. You deepened your movements, your hand joining in, stroking the base of his cock as you bobbed your head, taking him as deep as you could, the combination of your mouth and hand driving him closer to the edge with every passing second.

But then, he suddenly pulled back, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. “Wait… wait,” he panted, his voice shaky, filled with a mix of desperation and restraint. “I don’t want this to end so quickly.”

You looked up at him, your eyes heavy with lust as you released him from your mouth with a soft pop. “What do you want?” you asked, your voice sultry, teasing, as you stroked him slowly, feeling the way he pulsed beneath your touch.

“I want to… I want to do the same for you,” he said, his voice thick with longing, his eyes dark with desire as he reached for you.

A smile curved your lips as you shook your head, your hands resting on his thighs, keeping him where he was. “I’m already more than ready,” you murmured, your voice laced with need. “I just need you, right now.”

His resolve faltered as you took his hand, guiding it between your legs, pressing his fingers against the soaked fabric of your panties. The heat of your arousal was unmistakable, and when he felt how wet you were, a low growl escaped him. His fingers traced your seam through the cloth, his touch deliberate, teasing, before he found your clit and began to circle it slowly.

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, his eyes locked on yours as he continued to tease you through the fabric. “I need you… I need to be inside you.”

“Then take me,” you whispered, your breath hitching as his fingers worked your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through you. “Please… I need you.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. In a swift movement, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and yanked them down, his eagerness making you smile as you kicked them off. You lay back on the bed, your heart racing as he moved above you, positioning himself between your legs, his eyes locked on yours as he lined himself up.

He entered you in one smooth, slow thrust, filling you completely, the sensation overwhelming as he stretched you, a gasp escaping your lips at the sheer fullness of him. He paused, his breath hitching, giving you both a moment to savor the connection, before he began to move, his hips rolling in a steady, deliberate rhythm that drove you mad with need.

His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve, every inch of skin, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. One hand found your breast, his fingers brushing over your nipple, drawing a soft moan from you. He took that as encouragement, lowering his mouth to your breast, his tongue flicking over the hardened peak before he suckled gently, his lips pulling at you in a way that made your core tighten around him.

The combination of his mouth on your breast and his cock driving into you was almost too much, the pleasure building to a fever pitch, your body responding to him with every thrust, every flick of his tongue. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you clung to him, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you teetered on the brink.

“John… please,” you gasped, your voice strained with the intensity of your need, your body trembling beneath him as you felt yourself spiraling toward release.

His thumb found your clit again, pressing down and circling it in time with his thrusts, and that was all it took to push you over the edge. Your body convulsed around him, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave, your vision going white as you cried out, your back arching off the bed as the pleasure tore through you, leaving you trembling and gasping beneath him.

The sensation of you tightening around him, the way your body responded to his touch, was enough to send him over the edge as well. With a deep, guttural groan, he buried himself deep inside you, his release hitting him hard, his hips jerking as he emptied himself inside you, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, your bodies still entwined, your breathing heavy and uneven. The room was filled with the sound of your shared breaths, the steady beat of your hearts gradually slowing as the afterglow of the moment settled over you.

Finally, Dave pulled back slightly, his gaze softening as he looked down at you, a mix of wonder and concern in his eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice rough but filled with genuine care.

You nodded, a satisfied smile curving your lips. “I’m perfect,” you whispered, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “That was… incredible.”

He smiled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips before slowly pulling out of you, a slight shiver running through both of you as your bodies separated. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple.

You sighed contentedly, letting him gather you into his arms as you lay your head on his chest, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his skin. The warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest, was comforting, grounding you in the reality of what had just happened.

After a while, Dave shifted slightly, his lips brushing against your hair. “I’ll be right back,” he said softly, easing himself out of bed and heading to the bathroom. You heard the sound of water running, followed by the rustle of fabric, and then he returned, a warm, damp cloth in hand.

Gently, he cleaned you up, his touch tender and attentive, as if he was afraid of hurting you. The intimacy of the moment, the way he cared for you even after the passion had subsided, filled you with a warmth that went beyond the physical.

When he was done, he tossed the cloth into the laundry basket and climbed back into bed, pulling you close once more. You nestled against him, feeling safe and content in his embrace.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, he spoke, his voice hesitant. “About… what just happened. I didn’t think… I didn’t use protection. I didn’t even think about it.”

You looked up at him, seeing the concern etched on his face, and you reached up to cup his cheek. “It’s okay,” you reassured him, your voice soft but steady. “I’ll get Plan B in the morning.”

He let out a relieved breath, his hand coming up to cover yours. “I’m sorry… I just… I got caught up in the moment.”

You smiled, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. “We both got caught up,” you said softly, brushing your thumb over his cheek. 

He nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as he relaxed back against the pillows. 

You rested your head on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. A comfortable silence settled over you both, the weight of the moment beginning to lift as you lay together, content and warm in each other's arms.

After a moment, you let out a small chuckle. “You know… it kinda feels like I just took your virginity.”

Dave laughed, a deep, genuine sound that rumbled through his chest. “Technically, you did,” he said, amusement lacing his voice. “At least, as far as I can remember.”

You grinned, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “Well, for a first-timer, you were pretty good.”

He smirked, his hand running through your hair as he looked down at you with a mix of affection and teasing. “Beginner’s luck, I guess.”

You both laughed, the sound light and easy, a perfect way to diffuse the intensity of what had just transpired. The playfulness between you felt natural, and it was a reminder that despite everything, you were both finding your way together, one day at a time.

As the laughter faded, you snuggled closer, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. The night seemed to wrap around you, comforting and safe, as you drifted into a peaceful sleep in each other’s arms. 

Next Chapter 👉🏻

[balkanradfem]

I have been following your blog for a long time... you're one of my favorite people on this site. I have been picking a handful of raspberries on my way to work (the bushes are on public land) for weeks, and every time I do I think of you. I don't mean this in a parasocial way, i know i don't know you and you don't know me, but it is nice to think that here i am, a lesbian scavenging and enjoying nature, and across an ocean there is another lesbian feeling the same way.

There is a possibility that I will be moving in a few months to somewhere with a yard, and if that happens I will rewild the lawn and plant a garden and you are like 50% of the reason why. :)

I have read your reply about why you don't want to monetize your blog. I understand deeply. I am also disturbed by people who think like your father did, and I at least have never had to live with them. You have my full sympathies.

However, i would ask that you consider it regardless; or, please consider what it is like from my perspective, even if you ultimately disagree. I enjoy hearing from you and all these stories of your life. I wish you well. It does not feel like a debt to me. I do not put a price on anything you post. It is like this; I feel that, even without knowing it, you have been very nice to me. It inspires a fellow-feeling in me. But you are very far away. I cannot offer to help with your garden. I cannot gift you homemade food. I could, however, send you money.

For me, and i suspect many others in your inbox, the money is not the point. It is a substitute. We cannot give you a new plant or a handful of raspberries, but we could give you the means to buy what you can't scavenge. I do not want you to feel indebted, or like tumblr has become a job, or anything like that. And of course only you know what is best for you. But please consider enabling donations, even only very humble donations. I think I speak for more than just myself when I say that to us it would be like a "buy me a coffee :)" button like creatives use sometimes. I would like to buy you a coffee.

Raspberries! Those are wonderful to pick on your way to work, I'm honoured you'd think of me. I am mostly finding blackberries but I love raspberries.

When you get to rewild the yard please post pictures and just randomly tag me so I can see!! I love wild yards and all of the bees and ladybugs and small birds and critters will be so happy, they'll visit your yard and give enrichment to your life.

Thank you for explaining your perspective to me, you're incredibly sweet and it gives me heart to know that women out there are having a positive effect from my blogging, and you're all incredibly sweet wanting to help me out or give me things. I'm allergic to money but I'm already getting what I want - engagement, getting to talk to other women, getting very valuable information from women smarter than me, having people write little comments and send me adorable messages. Could anyone even ask for more? This message means a lot to me!

I'll stop complaining, I realize I've made people worried for me, and that was not my intent, I always think I am sooo funny when I complain about stuff xD and can't resist it. I'll think of other ways to be fun!

[episims]

TS2 dev comments about wants

At some point I fiddled with WantTrees and noticed there are many comments left behind by devs who worked on TS2, mostly considering how wants work for different aspirations.

Some of them seemed interesting so I started copying comments to a separate file... and then forgot about it. Well, I was cleaning my desktop just now and found the file again.

Since these might be interesting for other TS2 nerds as well, a random collection of TS2 dev commentary about the wants under the cut!

(I edited out the abbreviations and random typos to make these easier to read. Spoiler alert for, uh, exposed game mechanics?)

When a Romance Sim buys a fireplace, they want to use it. When a Family and Knowledge sims lights a fire in a fireplace, they fear fire, Family death.

Sims want to chat and send email after buying a computer. Elders fear email once.

When a Sim sees another Sim die, they want to beat the grim reaper. Must be short-lived.

Family Parents with strong personality traits will want their children to be more like them. Wants are exclusive for personality, needs min rel with child. Recurs after sleep.

After owning a lot of outdoor growing plants, Fortune Sims want a gardener.

Sloppy Sims hate changing a diaper after they have a child/adopt a child/have a grandchild. Lasts until the child is no longer in diapers.

Family Sims who have their children taken by the social worker want a baby.

After reaching creativity level 3, a Sim wants to buy a new creativity skill object.

After having a fire, sims want a fire alarm.

If a Popularity Sim has a lousy party, they want these objects which help make parties better.

Fortune Sims want to hire an exterminator when they see vermin. Family too.

Sims who buy hot tubs and double beds want to woohoo in them.

The Popularity Sim wants to make Friends, then Best Friends with another Sim after meeting them.

Teen Romance Sims who make out twice with the same sim want to meet someone new.

Sims who are sick worry about the downsides.

Knowledge Sims who have been shocked will fear being shocked again if an object breaks.

Fortune sims want the handyman to fix things.

Child's wants regarding building friends. If they lose repeatedly, and they are mean, they want to fight.

The Popularity Sim wants to make espresso for guests if they have an espresso machine; the behavior is triggered each time they entertain, play or talk.

Fortune Sims want to marry Rich if they have never worked, if they have had their stuff taken by the repo man (they are poor), or if they are getting old and are unmarried.

Makes the Romance Sim who has had a WooHoo want it in different objects, and want it again with the same sim the next day, but with less and less intensity each day that goes by.

Repeating cluster where non Popularity Sim wants to socialize with their best friend every 6 hours, strengthening as the relationship becomes stronger. This makes the Sim focus more on Sims who are their best friends.

Once having maxed the creativity skill, Sims want to write a great novel or paint a great painting. Once having sold a great novel/painting, they want to quit their job and keep doing it.

Progressive social tree for Romance Sims after being tickled. Lets the Sim who has been tickled with "binge" for a while on relatively easy, short term, high ad wants.

After eating a food prepared to some minimal level of quality, the sim will want to eat that food at the right time of day, for about as long as they are the current age, then it dies away. Sims who are "off schedule" may not have this behavior due to food type unavailability.

Wants for Sims who were Best friends/Steadies/relatives of the Sim who went to college. Drives wanting to maintain the relationship, wanting to follow Sim to college where appropriate, and wants for the college Sim to do well/fear doing badly.

Romance Sim wants to socialize with their Lover every 6 hours, weakening as the relationship becomes stronger. This makes the Sim focus more on Sims who are approaching the point of losing the Love Bit bit, making the Sim try to retain love relationships. When the relationship rises, however, the Sim will focus more on relationships which are not yet developed into Love.

[solarpunkani]

this is a personal vent but its a somewhat anti-capitalist/anti-grind culture vent so its going here but like

I wish I could have one (1) hobby that just stays a hobby and remains a fun lil heehee hobby without one or both parents desperately trying to get me to monetize it.

Like I am JUST learning crochet. I have been crocheting for less than a MONTH. I have ONE finished project. And my mom is ALREADY sending me lil instagram reels like 'heehee this is how much I made from my ~crocheting business~ in the month of October' and sending me a bunch of eyes emojis and dollarsign eyes emojis like, first off my beloved mother that woman has been crocheting for YEARS maybe even DECADES and I just picked it up three tuesdays ago, but second of all I don't necessarily wanna just make a buncha shit and then sell it online!!! I wanna make stuff for me and maybe friends and family if they ask really nicely, but nooooo now mom wants me to Perfect the Craft so I can sell on etsy and instagram and whatever.

This would be a Mild Annoyance if this wasn't simply the first in a long string of 'what if you monetized this hobby.' Which, granted, sometimes I do it to myself, but I'm really trying to stop.

Oh you like gardening? What if you monetized it! Sell vegetables at the farmers market! Sell cut flowers at the farmers market! Start your own small business! What do you mean, you mostly do it for personal enjoyment and environmental reasons? Just grow a bigass plot of zinnias, forget about your other stuff, and sell sell sell!!!

Oh, you like creative writing? You like writing novels and short stories and fanfics?? Go be a copywriter! Go be an adjunct professor, because you're totally qualified! What? You don't wanna write manuals and advertisements? But you're such a good writer, go make money off of it!

Oh you wanna learn sewing?! Learn sewing!! Quickly!! Not for your own personal enjoyment of the craft, I'm gonna start a business selling bags and YOU"RE gonna help me!!! I'm not asking permission btw this is me telling you--

Don't even get me started on the absolute slog that has been trying to become an animator and selling art commissions because I like drawing and animating and how that's been going for me, or the fact that my mom seems to think Masters Degree in Animation = Qualified Graphic Designer, which is not the same thing.

It's just exhausting. I would like to be allowed to have one hobby that doesn't immediately read as dollar signs in my parents eyes, yknow?

anyways capitalism grind culture is a hell scape thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

[nineblooddances-if]

Hi! I hope it's not a spoiler, and if it is, you're free not to respond. I don't know if this question has already been asked, but I haven't read that it has been asked, so...regarding MC, how much could you say they are socially, sentimentally or intellectually capable?

In the demo we are told that they have read books, but what kind of books? We only know about the world thanks to what we have read in those books and what our father told us?

Until now we only know our father, we have not even lived with an animal or other source of food. We have no idea about other cultures or languages, architecture or technology, malice or manipulation, social rules or customs.

So, according to what we have read so far and my understanding, we are still like a child, our MC has no idea about ANYTHING. Is it really like that? Or do we have certain knowledge that we have been told, such as sword training or gardening?

This would make for super awkward, funny or cute situations because our MC literally leaves their home to LIVE for the first time, but they have no idea what that is like in a society or hell itself. And honestly I love that? Hahahaha I imagine my MC as a complete social misfit and without any filter because of course, she doesn't know how to lie or take hints, carrying with her a small dictionary that may have been a "gift" or my own MC has created as a type of encyclopedia. Haha

And being Demisexual, any attempt at casual sex would be off the table, so perhaps the commanders of hell see my MC as a child they don't know how to deal with. XD I'm curious how they might feel or react to this?

I don't know exactly if that's possible, but I hope there is an option to be able to develop an MC that way. I hope I make myself understood and sorry for the length of my explanation.

PS: You have great talent and a lot of creativity, I also write sometimes and you have become one of my inspirations. Take care of yourself and drink plenty of water. ✨

Hi! I hope it's not a spoiler, and if it is, you're free not to respond. I don't know if this question has already been asked, but I haven't read that it has been asked, so...regarding MC, how much could you say they are socially, sentimentally or intellectually capable?

The MCs intelligence overall is base level common sense, now this may differ depending upon choices you make in the game revolving around that, but the Mortal Man taught MC a lot of things, especially with him knowing that MC was in Hell and in the Limbo. As well through the story, MC develops rather quickly and learns quickly as well.

With the use of books, MC is aware of periods and sex (though it is a very base level.)

there are a lot of things MC is unfamiliar with but that will mostly be within hell, since they know much about Earth in general, due to the mortal man's travels that described when he's first introduced.

[rwbyrg]

Am I alone in feeling mostly relieved our side of the FNDM is as small as it is? Of course, I'm not opposed to any new fresh meat coming in to join the fun, but at the same time, I think the scale of the RG corner kinda means we have less weirdos, and more genuinely talented and passionate people carrying on creativity for the other half to enjoy. Something something limitations breed creativity.

While I don't think you're alone in feeling how you do, I do not feel the same way... because I, myself, am a weirdo. Sorry. 😳 nah but fr, i know this ask is probably harmless and well intended, but I'm not keen on this way of thinking.

There are a lot more rg supporters than it seems. Most of them just don't engage with it publicly because of how unsafe the fandom landscape is these days; and that makes me sad. i can't count the number of people that said me or others being vocal about the ship finally made them feel comfortable enough to post about it. can't count how many more left the community because the harassment and lack of support just became too much to handle.

which is also part of the reason why I'm not keen on separating people into a "weird vs. normal" or "us vs. them" mindset.

Weirdness, talent, and passion, are not mutually exclusive of each other. Plenty of very skilled creatives have strange interests, make weird art, write inappropriate stories, or have been harmful to others. A person's artistic skill or creativity is not an indicator of their integrity, morality, or actions behind closed doors. That train of thinking is a very slippery slope, and I'm speaking from experience here when i say it can hurt you and people within your community if you're not careful.

I'm a weirdo to people who don't engage with fandom for having a blog dedicated to two fictional characters. I'm a weirdo to antis because those characters happen to be rg (which makes us weirdos-in-arms, dear anon 😘). I'm a weirdo to other rg shippers for not shipping it the same way they do. I'm close friends with a few creatives here, and on bad terms with a few others. Most of them are weirdos in one way or another. Some are kindhearted, earnest, and lovely individuals that have been cancelled, called out, and harassed for the most vanilla, harmless, and ordinary things you can imagine. Others, despite their talent, are assholes whom you could not pay me to be in the same "room" with again. And those jerks have and do say the same things of me in their own spaces.

If anything, I think these sorts of mentalities are the reason there are so few of us here in this little garden. We're treated like the blacksheep of the FNDM at large. We're unwelcome, ostracized, and chased out of most general spaces even when we aren't doing anything wrong. And because of that, these narratives and pressures around being "normal" or "one of the good ones" seeps into our spaces and only divides us all further.

Weirdness is subjective, people all have their own quirks, and being in fandom wasn't even considered "normal" until very recently. So, as far as I'm concerned, so long as you're not hurting anyone, we're all weird here.

[which-qsmp-egg-would]

🌸Intro post! (Changes over time)🌸

ON BREAK FOR NOW :D

I do polls about the qsmp eggs and what kind of children they are! Suggestions are greatly appreciated, as I am a one man band!

Polls will be scheduled to post at 10AM PST every day, but I also love to reblog things about the eggs! I also run events to encourage people to make eggsonas and interact with others in the fandom, as well as posting art/stories about my own egg OC's!

🌸More about me and my blog under the cut! (and some rules)🌸

About me!

⭐️ My name is Captain! You can also call me Poll if you want, as that is the name of this blog's mascot/eggsona.

⭐️ I use They/it/(+neos? idk) pronouns. I don't mind what you call me either, so just go with your heart kkkkkk

🇺🇸 I am American

❗️I can and will block liberally. I refuse to let this blog be swamped in any amount of negativity. I am not a celebrity, I am a pleasant escape.

🌱 My special interest is plants, I am going to start my own garden soon! I also just watch a LOT of cartoons. Oh, I'm also an artist and a writer.

🫶 My native language is English, but I have been learning American Sign Language, Spanish, and recently French. I'm not good at the French.

My main Tumblr account is Captainbee66, but I keep them mostly separate. I just reblog fanart on that one, mostly. I also write fics on Ao3!

I am an Aroace, Agender adult with ADHD :]

About my blog

❤️ Most of this is going to be polls. When requesting polls, PLEASE request them separately. I would prefer an inbox spam over a block of requests. It makes it easier. Also, your requests won't be answered right away. I actually have a lot saved in my inbox, so there's a good amount to sift through. Rest assured, requests will be saved until a later time. I try not to waste.

⭐️ Random asks and questions are also encouraged! I think they're fun. If I don't answer them though, don't be discouraged. Sometimes I just don't have a good answer!

⭐️⭐️ If someone makes fanart/fics based on anything on this blog, please please please tag me, that would be so cool.

❤️ Also, any language allowed here! Google Translate is my best friend, so you can use whatever is comfortable to you.

⚠️ Since I've been asked a few times I'll put it here: I have a limit of 12 options on a poll. We have 11 living eggs. I unfortunately cannot put your favorite dead egg on the polls for this reason. That is why the "Other/Combo" answer exists.

Who are those eggs I keep seeing? I don't remember them from the QSMP??

They're my OCs! The egg in my pfp is Poll. They're sort of my mascot/eggsona that you all helped me make! The other egg is Tequilla, their brother! He's new to the family :]

⭐️ Poll uses all pronouns, Tequilla uses He/Him

🌸 Poll's defining item is a flower crown, Tequilla's is a messenger bag

😭 If anyone makes fanart of them, I will be so emotional about it.

What is Poll's Egg Playdate Project? Can I participate?

🌸This is a community project that I started! It is to encourage you all to make your own eggsonas and make friends, despite events that have happened. We are a strong community, and I want to foster that closeness we've had over the past year!🌸

❤️everyone is welcome to participate, no matter how "late" you are to the party!

❗️Please be respectful of other people's eggs. Don't be a bully, don't put them in bad situations without permission, and just generally behave, alright?

🫶Just have fun, interact with people, and spread your creative wings! If anyone wants a list of specific eggs, I've made a list that I can draw from :]

📖🖌✏️ You can make whatever you want for this project! Artworks, doodles, drabbles, paragraphs of loose thoughts, whatever you want! In any form that you want! The whole point is CREATION.

(Feel free to ask questions in my inbox <3)

[tiredly101]

Hello tiredly! I was wondering if you could make an Idol!Wally x Reader fic! If you are able, then you can do whatever you like with the story line. I love your creativity and Id love to see more of it! However, I would like the start to go along the lines of "There was a meet and greet being held for Wally because he was on tour. While the reader was walking around, they fell and Wally spotted them!" I think that could be a good start but change it to however you like hun! And remember to take care of yourself hun! I'll check in every now and then too just to make sure your ok!

Hi beautiful! Of course I will write this for you beautiful~ Didn't know if you wanted a female, gender neutral or male reader so I opted by male reader. Nonetheless hope you like it beautiful!

Camara's flashing

Pairing: Idol!Wally Darling x Everyday joe parent!Male reader

Human Au, Picture made by @doueiie

Wally Darling, a world wide sweetheart, wanted everywhere and by everyone. Famous was hard, but being famous with multiple careers is even harder; he was a singer, model but most importantly he was an actor, one that was loved by kids and their parents. Which is what led M/n to take his kid to a meet and greet for the prestigious Welcome Home educational tv show, a show made mostly for kids but also adored by adults.

"Slow down Lili! Don't want to hurt your poor and inoccent father now do you?", Asked M/n making Lili, his five year old slow down and bounce in her place to join the line of the meet and greet. So far she has seen Julie, Barnaby, Frank, Eddie, Poppy and Howdy but she has yet to see Wally. M/n asked for the security too look after Lili while he went to the bathroom which the garden accepted with a soft smile when Lili hugged his leg since her feet were hurting.

M/n walks with his head down, thinking until he crashed into someone making him fall on the floor. He groaned, any need to go to the bathroom forgotten, and rubbed his head until he heard a voice.

"Oh my rainbows! I am so, so sorry, I wasn't looking and-," the voice stopped in its tracks and M/n was left speechless when he lifted his gaze to be met with the sight of the one and only Wally Darling. He was prettier up close was the first thought M/n had meanwhile Wally was panicking. He has never talked with a guy that handsome before!

"Don't worry about it, I should have been paying more attention myself," said M/n while chucking softly but Wally could only think about how beautiful his voice was. He extended his had and M/n took it and so Wally lifted him up making M/n be right in front of him, mere inches away from his face.

"Hi," said Wally softly while smiling, he scanned M/n's whole face, taking in every freckle, beauty mark/scar he found finding comfort when his black eyes landed on his (e/c) eyes until his eyes flickered quickly to his lips and then back up to his eyes which made M/n smiles with a soft blush forming in his cheeks.

"Hi," M/n said softly as an answer while staring at Wally's gorgeous eyes. The moment was ruined by Lili screaming fo joy before running up to M/n out of nowhere and hugged his leg before jumping towards Wally which the couple laugh softly.

Hope you liked it beautiful (@darling-w)! And let me know if you want me to make a part two of this!

[lyss-butterscotch]

Hey— you!

I noticed the interests in your thing, what other series you didn’t mention there yet you like?

Oooh okay okay so im just gonna mention the medias i like / that stuck with me for long / have good knowledge of

Games :

Rain World - love the lore, the procedural animation, detailed bg and ecosystem

Hollow Knight - my first ever computer game, 112% full achievement it 3 times (twice pirated, once in steam), love the art style, mechanics, and lore

Ultrakill - Fulfilled the aggression i got from HK's godhome but 100x over. I love the simplicity over everything and the smooth rewarding combat mechanics. Also The OST

Genshin Impact - Mild interest in the lore, but i love the character, environment designs, and the OST, one of my 'go to for design ideas' media

Celeste - EVERYTHING ABOUT IT, the story the artstyle the music and THE MECHANICS, i love going nyoom and i love being able to conquer difficult things in games that is purely skill based

A Hat in Time - Very cute feels good games. Its old timey but in a good way. Love the characters, artstyle, and the BANGER OST

Inscryption - Aesthetics goals. I love the atmosphere, the sfx design, the story. I just really like how snappy and satisfying every move is

Stardew valley - comfort game :)

Project Moon Games (Lob Corp / Library of Ruina / Limbus Company) - I love Lob Corp in particular because of the monster designs and the batshit mechanics and lore, I love the other two because the lore is onpar with whatever homestuck got going on but like... it actually makes sense. TLDR its SCP but worse /pos

Resident Evil (Specifically RE7 above) - I like the horror vibes, character and environment designs inspos

OFF - Weirdcore but in a nice way. I love the sketchy artstyle

Oneshot - 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Funamusea Games (The Gray Garden / Wadanohara / Mogeko Castle) - Funny lil stories, mostly love it for the character designs since the artist makes alot of OCs

Animes :

Madoka Magica - AMAZING WRITING ANIMATION CHARACTER DEPTH OST EVERYTHING, What i strive for when writing characters, the collage facked up witches is also such an inspo

Ghibli Movies (HOWLS MOVING CASTLE, Spirited Away, The Cat Returns, Princess Mononoke) - Animation, Artstyle, Background art, Story inspirations. Theyre so feel good while also being illegally pretty and heartfelt

Kill la Kill - really fackin brash but i love the OST and the fluid lively animation, just a fun watch

Houseki No Kuni / Land of the Lustrous - Its really pretty, it has AMAZING WRITING, the 3d anime for it was SO GOOD, the manga broke me, aesthetics of all time

Saiki K - No reason in particular, the dude's just a constant mood

Toilet Bound Hanako-Kun - I just really like the aesthetics and the artstyle its so pretty, aesthetic goals

Other medias :

Homestuck - I was there when [S] ACT 7 dropped. I know its like shitpost 70% of the time but it inspires me to see how it started and how it ended

Epithet Erased - I really like the art style and the simple yet lively tweening, the rare animations are really good too. I love the character designs alot

Wakfu - Animation, artstyle, and aesthetics goal. I never finished it and the story is a lil wonky but the artstyle stood out alot to me

The Owl House - The animation and characters and environment designs are so good. The story is really nice too they got to end it well despite being cut short.

Alien Stage - I love the art style. I LOVEEE THE MUSIC ITS SO GOOD AND I LOVE THE CHARACTERS, THE STORY IS WRITTEN THROUGH SHORT SONGS BUT DAMN DO THEY HIT

Analogue Horror (Backrooms, Mandela Catalogue, Local 58, Gemini Home Entertainment) - I love the vibes and creative story telling. World building inspos

[eternitas]

Hi Lou!! Tbh, I'd love to ask you...all of the selfship questions, but I'll be nice and say 1-4 uwu for Gokudera! [Unless you're cool with answering them all 👀✨️]

Just for fun selfship ask meme

Thank you so so much for sending this in! ... 3... months ago orz I am so so sorry for answering so late, I hope waiting for my answer was worth it QwQ

1. does your f/o have any special nicknames for you? what are they? do you have a favorite?

Gokudera isn't exactly super openly affectionate or romantic. He is pragmatic and when he is romantic it is a rare, but genuine moment just between them. While he doesn't have a special nickname, he does sometimes call Rena "tesoro" (itl. treasure) and has refered to her as a sun or glowing star, though never to her face.

2. do you and your f/o share any hobbies? what are they? do you see one another as rivals, collaborators, something else?

Rena and Hayato are competitive spirits and often get into little competitions with each other that usually hold either no stakes but their pride, or chores and small gifts. It's never harsh enough that Dera becomes seriously upset over a loss (he actually really appreciates that she can give him a run for his money), but it's also never completely trivial. These competitions can range from who gets to a place first, to directly facing off in a video or card game (especially with poker and other games where you have to keep your reactions in check Rena usually has the upper hand due to her knowledge in acting and directing, being able to pick up on the subtlest of changes in Gokuderas demeanor, who still has a hard time keeping his emotions in check).

Interestingly enough when it comes to hobbies they diverge a bit. Rena loves to be creative, her work at the theater is incredibly fullfilling to her, so she spends a lot of time going to see different plays and reads new pieces. Hayato is also very creative, but his creativity leans more towards the engineering and constructing. In that they are supportive with and towards each other, but don't necesarily always partake in the others interest. However they both are interested in the supernatural, with Rena being a scaredy cat that is mostly into mythology and the occult while Hayato is more interested in cryptids and extraterestrials. Hayato likes going ghost hunting or cryptid hunting and once in a while he can persuade Rena to tag along though not without promising up and down that he won't scare her on purpose and that he'll protect her if anything does happen.

One hobby they do participate in together is movie nights. They switch up who picks the movie and each one of them has a chance to veto a pick. They both enjoy watching all kinds of movies and talk about them, dissecting story, special and practical effects, character writing and acting, directing- they can both contribute their own knowledge to these talks which are even more enjoyable to them than the movies themselves.

Small picrew I edited depicting them watching a scary movie.

Original

3. do you have any songs that remind you of your f/o? a playlist? what do they think of it, if you’ve shared it with them?

Okay so I USED to have a playlist but I deleted it orz, tho there are two songs I def remember associating with this ship which is

Cinderblock Garden by All Time Low and Perfect by Topic and Ally Brooke

4. where are your favorite places to go with your f/o? what’s your favorite part of that place, or the time you spend together there?

When it comes to favourite places to be at then there come only 3 to mind. First is Renas apartment. It's a small 2 room flat with an open kitchen, a big livingroom with a narrow balcony and a small bedroom. It's cozy but not claustrophobic and Hayato stays over a few times. After a very eventful day it's nice to flop onto the sofa and watch a movie together.

Then there is one of Renas favourite cafes. It's in a sidestreet of the city, rather small and has a bit of a maritime country-chic flair with exceptionally good coffee and cake. They don't usually house big groups or many people so it never feels cramped and or overwhealming when it comes to the surounding noise.

Last but definitely not least is the westpark. It's close to the Residence where the Neo Vongola stay in italy and is often place of performances by Renas theater group Mosaico. It's a nice small park with one half of the park being mostly greenspace for people to chill on and the other being a bit more groomed, layed out and romantic with benches and grenery tunnels.

(Thinking specifically about the passages I personally know, here, here, and here, plus a well kept flower garden park as depicted here)

In general: anywhere where it's not too full and too loud is a nice place for them to hang out.