#shepard's wagon

[aristocratic-otter]

Hello all! I've been tagged on so many lovely things the last couple of weeks and, while I've been writing, it's just been one step to far to post with everything else I've got to do. But I've got time today, hooray! So first to thank all the lovely folk who keep tagging me even when I disappear:

@ivelovedhimthroughworse, @katmiscellanious, @prettygoododds, @messofthejess, @j-nipper-95, @rimeswithpurple, @aroace-genderfluid-sheep, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @wellbelesbian, @alleycat0306, @hushed-chorus, @ionlydrinkhotwater, @whatevertheweather, @ileadacharmedlife, @confused-bi-queer, @cutestkilla, @nightimedreamersghost, and @shrekgogurt.

On to the sentences!

From Westward Son:

“Mistress Penny!” he shouts. “My little brother is coming, and my mother wants your help!”

We all straighten. We’d thought Chapa was heavily pregnant months ago, but she’s only gotten more immense since. She’s had to ride in the wagon for the last two months, once her bulk meant she couldn’t keep up with the slow pace of the wagon train. Penny is certain that she’s carrying twins, given the size of her.

From my Age of Sail AU:

When I emerge onto the beach, blinking rapidly against the sunlight, the tide has gone out, and the rock spur our ship is hung up on is surrounded by prolly only a foot or so of water. 

“Ah, there you are, Simon lad,” Davy appears at my elbow, and I turn obediently to listen. “The tide’s low enough,” he tells me. “We’ll take the raft out an’ you and the Pitch boy can climb around the ship like the monkeys you are and retrieve anythin’ that’s of use.”

“Aye, sir,” I tell him. I’m bone tired, but we’ll need those barrels and boxes of goods on the ship if we’re to survive here.

From this year's COTTA: Snow Fox

Penny’s horse was done in from her wild ride to Snow Island, so she’s mounted up behind me, clinging to my waist, and Shepard is riding behind my second in command. Which would be fine were she not using her position to hiss angry rebukes in my ear. 

Finally, I’ve had enough. “Fine, I get it, Pen. I’m an arsehole! What can I do about it now?”

“Now?” she shouts back. “Now you can save my brother. Later? You’re going to train me, and Shepard, so that we can defend our family and make sure this never happens again!”

From To Heal A Broken Mind (final chapter!):

His head is tilted down, his hair loose and falling into his face. He tends to do that when he feels vulnerable, I’ve noticed. Like his hair is a mask that will protect him from a harsh world. It’s odd..I never used to think of Baz as someone who’d ever need or want protection. But I know better now, and I’m glad for it. Glad that he lets me see this side of himself. 

And From Saving Simon Snow

“Now grab Baz’s hand, Simon, and think about what I told you to,” she directs. Simon does. I do my best to clear my mind, though when Simon closes his eyes and concentrates, I can’t help but think about how erotic he looks, with his closed eyes turned towards the roof of the car, his lower lip sucked into his mouth, his forehead tense with concentration. Crowley, he looks like he’s in the midst of an orgasm! 

And that’s when I feel a surge of excitement, mixed with joy and incredulity. The feelings aren’t completely at odds with my own, but I still report them dutifully to Bunce.

Yes, only five WIPs! Except actually there's a secret project going on that I can't share yet...and CORB choosing starts soon...so, yeah.

Tag Backsies to everyone above for Wednesday, along with these folks:

@artsyunderstudy, @angelsfalling16, @bazzybelle, @bookish-bogwitch, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @dragoneggos, @erzbethluna, @fatalfangirl, @facewithoutheart, @ic3-que3n, @krisrix, @larkral, @letraspal, @moodandmist, @frjsti, @raenestee, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @theearlgreymage, @tea-brigade, @upuntil6am, @yellobb-old.

#co/ws/awtwb #six sentence sunday #snowbaz #carry on through the ages #cotta 2021 #cotta 2023 #House AU #Blue Lagoon AU #Canon Divergence #forced marriage

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

Lori’s first babysitter was Missus Reburta. She was the one Sylvia went to for a lot of advice the first few months, too. Ms. R had three children of her own, all grown up and moved on with their lives. Sylvia and Tim actually went to school with her youngest, but they don't remember his name or face. She let Sylvia borrow her station wagon when she needed it, still with a car seat in the back. She made sure there was food in the fridge and that Lori went to bed at a decent hour while Sylvia was at work. Most of all, she listened whenever Billy came home, never straying too far from the telephone if need be.

On days he doesn't feel like going to school, Curly will stick around Ms. R’s after he supposedly “drops Lori off”. He and Angela have always been the real charmers of the three Shepard kids - and Ms. R has no problem making him a sandwich and listening to how Sylvia and Lori have been holding up.

She knows Sylvia has found a good one, and she reminds her of it every chance she gets. She tells Tim, too, when he swings by to pick Lori up.

I have more I just don't want this ask to be super long-

I love her with all my heart. Curly’s definitely one of those boys who old ladies lunch their cheeks and call them nice young men (when he’s being nice of course). I’m living for the interactions between Tim and Mrs. Reburta, they’re just hanging around while Lori finishes whatever she’s been doing-

Please give me more. I’m needy.

#dillo’s replies #sophie i guess13

[kryptonianclone]

Ship bias!!!

Send ‘Ship Bias’ and I will share up to 5 Ships I have a bias for for my muse! || Accepting

Oh man alright so ship bias I've answered before but I don't mind doing it again! - Konbart: Possibly my favorite ship for Kon right now. Diffidently my bias and has been for a while. - KonCassie: I know a lot of people don't like this ship but I think it's a very sweet teen romance for Kon. She was his first relationship where things were kinda healthy and I think he'll always be a little bit in love with her for showing him that. - Timkon: I used to like this ship a lot more when I was younger and I've kinda fallen off the wagon recently but I do enjoy a really solid Timkon! - KonKenan: This was honestly a crackship for a really long time for me but I'm bumping this up to a bias I think they have so much in common and I'd love to see more of them working together in canon. - KonSimon: I'm not the biggest fan of Hero/civilian but you know what I will make an exception for him!!! Honorable mentions / Crackships: -Kon/Sombra (over watch lady) -KonBartPreston - KonThad (CLone boy x clone boy but spicy) - TimKonBartCassie - Kon/Tommy Shepard (Marvel run fast boy as you can see I like runfast boys) - KonVirgil

And last and certainly not least Kon/Trev Smith

#futurespeedster

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Beautifully converted 18th cent. workshop is now a moody, rustic home in the village of St. James, in Suffolk, UK. 

Isn’t this wonderful? The patina isn’t only on the building itself, but also on the furnishings.

The home has elements of vintage, glam, modern, and industrial.

The kitchen has some modern cabinets and an old Aga stove that’s probably been refurbished.

The living room is lovely- beautiful new accents combined with vintage. Love the globe collection.

The main bedroom and en suite look like they may be part of a new extension.

Cute guest room.

And a 2nd bath.

And as if the property wasn’t lovely enough, this rusty old Shepard’s wagon is in the garden.

Inside, it’s been set up as an office. This is beautiful.

https://inigo.com/past-sales/the-old-workshop

#converted workshop england #shepard's wagon #moody rustic decor #old and new decor #mixing old and new decor #long post

[citadelsushi]

Good Intentions

I just wanted to write something short and simple and cute.

fShenko, but it is from my Western AU.

Shepard calls over her shoulder, “Wagon up ahead.”

Deft hands gather reins and draw her revolver simultaneously.

Wrex pulls his shotgun, his stout, spotted horse jigs underneath in anticipation of gunshots.

“Roadblock?” Garrus asks as he tosses the pack mule’s lead rope to Tali.

Kaidan and Ashley hesitate over their own weapons. Determination creeps into the lines on Ashley’s face, lips pressed thin, her hand on her rifle. Kaidan is already surveying the land for a work around, for cover.

“Wagon’s on the side, people on the road.” Shepard replies.

They spread out across the full width of the road, clearing lines of sight to prevent friendly fire.

Kaidan urges Pepper into a trot and brings her alongside Shepard, earning a half-hearted set of pinned ears from Normandy.

“We can follow the ridgeline North, drop back down to the road before it cliffs out.” Kaidan offers, eyeing his planned route.

Shepard doesn’t take her eyes off the threat. “They’ve already seen us.”

Down the road, Kaidan sees the wagon for the first time; it’s beautiful, made of deep purple wood and fully enclosed, ornate carvings along the exterior. One of the rear wheels is snapped off, the horses - a stunning matched pair of black cart horses with immaculate white feathers - unhitched and tied to nearby trees. Its passengers, two well dressed young men, stand in the middle of the road looking distraught. And completely helpless.

Kaidan forgets his plan to bypass the roadblock.

“Shepard,” he watches her profile, set in stone, “their wagon is busted.”

“Sure looks that way.” Shepard knows he’s going to argue and cuts him off before he can get out a sigh. “They have no driver. No one with a coach like that drives it themselves.” Eyes back on the couple, she says, “Makes a decent trap. Eventually, someone will stop to help them or try to rob them, then the rest come out of the woodwork.”

Kaidan scans the surrounding forest. What he can see, anyway. It’s dense and dark and beyond fifteen feet, everything blurs into one indiscernible mass of timber.

To Shepard, he says, “Reckon you better keep an eye on the woodwork, then.”

“Kaidan,” she warns, “don’t.”

He dares smirk at her before trotting forward, Shepard’s frustrated sigh hitting his back with enough force to turn that smirk into a full fledged shit-eating grin.

***

After they help patch the wheel well enough for the young couple to limp the wagon to the nearest town, they break for water. Shepard approaches Kaidan from behind, shoves him by the shoulder.

“You’re an idiot.”

Kaidan chuckles, turns to face her. “I think you mean to say, ‘you were right’.”

“I know I can be paranoid, but it’s for good goddamn reason.”

He sobers, “Shepard-”

“Shut the fuck up.” She jabs his chest. “I used to do that shit all the time and killed plenty of fuckin’ do-gooders doin’ it. It’s one of the oldest fuckin’ tricks in the book. If they hadn’t been-”

“Shepard.” He takes her by the shoulders, just firm enough to be reassuring without setting her off. “I know.”

Stubbornness sets her jaw. “You didn’t fuckin’ know they weren’t gonna shoot you in the goddamn face.”

He knows she’s serious, that her excessive swearing comes from a place of concern, but it still makes him smile. The woman could make a sailor blush. He quickly extinguishes it, needs her to know he’s not taking her lightly.

“One of my first days as a deputy, we rode out to check on a reported busted wagon,” he says. “Anderson warned me it could be a trap. That we could be walking into an ambush. Or worse.” He removes his hands from her shoulders, rubs at the back of his neck. “The dirt was stained for weeks. No rain to wash it away. It was such a mess, we built a new road. No one could stand travelling over that patch of earth.” His hand falls to his side.

Shepard clings to her anger, “And you went trottin’ up there anyway.”

“I had back up.” He shrugs. “That’s more than you can say most of the time.”

Her frown deepens. “If someone needs help, I’m going to help them.”

For a long moment, long enough that he feels the need to shift under her gaze for fear of being scorched by it, they say nothing. Then, Shepard reaches out, her touch unexpectedly soft against his jaw, steps forward, and kisses him. Deep and long, her frustration ebbing into tenderness, until Kaidan melts into her and everything fades but the warmth of their bodies and the taste of salt on their lips.

When she pulls away, she looks at him with something akin to wonder. “I like you.” She kisses him again, quick and chaste. “But you’re still a fuckin’ idiot.”

#fShenko #shenko #mass effect au #kaidan alenko #give to pressure #csfics

[rosebud1773]

Chapters: 12/? Fandom: Mass Effect Trilogy, Mass Effect - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian Additional Tags: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Epic Friendship, Epic Battles, Epic Love, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, Heartache, Pining, Awkwardness, Major Character Injury, Character Death, Tension, Heartbreak, Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Summary:

The explosives expert was not exactly what Garrus had expected. Nothing about the day was going the way he expected. The humans had a saying. In face, all races had a saying that mirrored it; 'anything that can go wrong, will go wrong'. The humans called it Murphy's Law.

Tagging: @danypooh80, @crackinglamb, @a-cosmic-elf, @bhell42, @dramaqueenharley, @blueboxness, @ferusaurelius and anybody else willing to jump on the Omega wagon.

#mass effect #mass effect trilogy #mass effect fanfiction #femshep x garrus #shepard x garrus #garrus romance #garrus vakarian

[wrongwaygang]

Freddie baby. New Subaru & Centenario Anejo model...

#Subaru #Australian Shepard #wrongwaygang #tequila #centenario #lifted #wagon

[princesspiratecat]

The Rise and Fall of the Shepard Family Part 16: Winter, 1082

Part 1& Part 2

Part 3 & Part 4

Part 5 & Part 6 & Part 7

Part 8 & Part 9 & Part 10

Part 11 & Part 12 & Part 13

Part 14 & Part 15

Frances did not return home that evening, even though he knew the next day was the 18th birthday of Gwendolyn. He had created a fire and slept under the stars, awaking several times due to the sounds of the forest and his own guilt. He could not bear to face her, although he knew at some point he would have to. He just had to figure out what to say, but he didn’t even know where to begin.

Meanwhile back at the estate, Gwendolyn was awoken by a servant, who brought her some bread and cheese, helped her dress and then began packing up her bags. Still groggy from her slumber, she could not make out what was happening for a few moments.

“What are you doing?” The servant’s eyes looked around guiltily, but she said nothing. Moments later Marcelle appeared at the door of her chambers. “Collect your belongings, we are leaving shortly.”

“Where are we going? Where is Frances?”

“You will see. Quickly,” he said, with a cold look on his features that she had never seen before. Stunned, Gwendolyn complied and began collecting things from her chambers. She did so in a daze, as everything to her felt surreal and strange. When she got to the door, he took her belongings from her and placed them in the back of a covered wagon, then he motioned for her to get inside.

The wagon was uncomfortable and the ride was a long and jerky one. There was no where to look, so Gwendolyn hadn’t any idea where they were going, or even in what direction. She wondered why she was being removed from a place she had begun to look upon as her home so suddenly and without warning. Did Frances no longer want to marry her? Why did he not say anything about any of this? Where was he? Surely there was an explanation. She tried to quiet the warning in her heart, but she could not.

After nearly two hours of being shifted around by the roll and tumble of the roads, they finally came to a stop and Gwendolyn climbed out of the wagon, determined to at least stretch her legs. They were at the edges of a large forest, filled with birch wood trees, the likes of which Gwendolyn had never seen before. There was a meadow on the other side, and in the clearing was a small, shabby cottage made of plaster, which looked as if it had long been abandoned.

Marcelle lifted her trunk from the wagon and walked into the cottage. Gwendolyn followed him. There was a firepit surrounded by stones, a small table with chairs, and what looked to be a makeshift kitchen with shelves and stone counters. Nearly everything was covered in several layers of dust and ash, and it smelled faintly of mold and dung. Gwendolyn wrinkled her nose. She had grown up in a similar cottage, but hers had been larger, well managed and much cleaner. This place was fit for peasants, and it was far cry from the comforts of the Squire’s estate.

The second room was not much better than the first. A single window was the only source of light and a shabby bed was in the center of the room, filled with damp hay. And it had the same dank smell but was colder than the main room. He had put her trunk down next to the bed, and her heart sank.

“My Lord, what is this place? Why have you brought me here?”

He sighed, as if the question gave him great pains to answer. “The engagement between you and my son has been called off. Until he has married, you will reside here. Once he has secured a bride and has wed, you may reside at the orphanage with your sisters, if you wish.”

Gwendolyn’s face grew hot with shame. “Cancel the wedding? Why?!”

He scoffed at her, and there was an air of disgust on his face that was plain to see. “You know as well as I that the match between you and my son was never a good one. So, I have remedied the situation and called it off. You would do well to cooperate with the plan, if you want to see your sisters again.”

“But we have been engaged for many weeks! Everyone knows of it! And you have accepted my dowry! You cannot just break it off!”

His demeanor changed from coldness to anger and his lips curled into an ugly smirk. “And who is going to stop me?”

Shocked by his tone, Gwendolyn grasped at anything she could think of. “Frances wants to marry me! He loves me! We love each other!”

“My son fell under your spell, and has forgotten the duty he has to his house and bloodline. Do you sincerely think you are good enough for the likes of my family?! I come from a long line of noble Fathers and Lords. You are nothing but a Shepard’s daughter.”

She could not argue with him on that point, but it angered her to hear him speak with such distain. 

“And this, this little hovel is what you think I deserve?! I had no idea you thought so little of me!” She sat down on the chair in the corner and tried to wrap her mind around what was happening. Tears trickled down her face and even though she did not want to cry in his presence, she could not help herself.  

“I have procured food and firewood for your stay here. I will send someone to deliver more in a few days time. There is a small stream out back for your washing and cooking needs, and a cook pot on the shelf. If you need anything else, please inform the servant when he comes and he will fetch it for you.”

Gwendolyn could say nothing to this, and Marcelle hastily left. She could hear a strong wind rattle the walls, and she forced herself to get up and light a fire.

 Then she collapsed into a little ball and sobbed until all of her strength was gone.

#sims 2 stories #sims 2 challenges #New Foundations

[juniper-tree]

Do not like when SF writers lazily toss American/Western idioms into alien speech, when the character in question would have no concept of the specific idiom, even if they have an equivalent in their own culture.

I read this line on a datapad in Nakmor Kesh’s office on the Nexus:

It's already polarizing Addison—she's taking the cue to circle the wagons.

As much as the mind reels at the thought of Old West Tuchanka, I doubt this is a phrase Kesh would use. First of all, it’s ridiculous to limit an alien’s exposure to, and knowledge of, Earth culture to one subset of it.

Second, unless the alien in question is known for having a wide cultural literacy or a specific interest in a particular people (Dax in Deep Space Nine, for example), it’s odd to suggest they’re throwing around foreign phrases they may be barely familiar with.

So perhaps Krogan language has its own phrase which conveys a similar idea, and the translator in my point-of-view brain converted it for me to one I would understand.

Do not at all like the idea of universal translators translating idioms automatically!

There’s no way the two phrases mean the same thing in context or scope. A Krogan phrase would not carry the same loaded, offensive ideas inherent in that particular phrase—even if theirs had Krogan-specific offensive ideas.

On the other hand:

DO like when alien characters learn foreign terms and idioms for their close friends or lovers, and use them liberally.

My touchstone for this is the way Garrus calls Shepard “honey” and “sweetheart.”

Noted for argument: there may be similar terms of endearment in Turian language which are easily translated. They could be nearly exact in their usage and definition. Turians have hearts, and though it’s odd to imagine they conceive of love within the heart precisely the way we do, it’s not impossible. They have sweets, and they could even have honey—whatever insect might make the Palavenian equivalent. 

But if we assume that “sweetheart” and “honey” are not translated terms, Garrus would have learned them: from research, from Shepard maybe.

It’s beautiful that Thane calls Shepard siha, a word important to him and his culture, a precious word he would not use indifferently. But it’s also quite charming that Garrus would use Earth terms for Shepard, words that are probably not meaningful to her specifically, but comforting and familiar.

Of course, it would be delightful if Shepard called Garrus something which would be the same for him: š̥̻̳͕̎͂̾̃ͅü̹̞̯̘̿̑̈́g̝̿ȧ̧̙͌r̠̣̆̈́͟ ̘͕̝̿̊̚͜͝b̩͠rī̛̻͉͇͖̘͐͌̚tc̛̜̮̅ḣ̭̳̰̼͑͑̉e͈͔̪͊͒͡s͖̚, maybe. Pretend that’s in Turian language.

#mass effect #nonsense

[dwellordream]

“...In 1700, as in 1500, the basis of the English economy was still agricultural, and most boys and girls were reared in a rural environment. Two factors influenced the recruitment and integration of children to work. On the one hand, children were bound to be drawn into the workforce early in their lives, since about one-third of the early modern English population was under the age of 15, and labour was the most important factor of production. 

On the other hand, the economy was also characterised by chronic under-employment, and children, not to speak of those of tender years, were physically limited and less skilled than adults. So their work was also bound to have been irregular and characterised by a great deal of unemployment. All this meant that children were employed to carry out single tasks as they grew up, according to the needs and types of skill required by their families. 

Some of the most common tasks allocated by families to children involved animal husbandry; most authors of autobiographies who made any reference to work they had performed in their childhood years mentioned some form of work with animals - for example, sheep, geese or draught animals. Sheep growing, rearing of cattle and horses, and dairy farming predominated in the western and the northern parts of the country, but enclaves of pastoral farming also existed in the south and the east, as well as in the less fertile soils of parts of Yorkshire, Lincolnshire, Norfolk and Suffolk. Many yeomen in these regions kept large flocks of sheep to manure the soil, and children assisted in bringing sheep to the unploughed hill pasture during the day, and returning them to arable fields at night.

Moreover, until well into the sixteenth century, many households in the south and the east were self-sufficient and kept some animals to provide for their basic needs. In the midland plains, for example, households relied on cereal production, but also on animals; a few cows, pigs, or small flocks of sheep which children could tend to were kept to provide cheese, butter and clothing. In other regions within the mixed farming zone there were still large enclaves of pastoral farming, as in Cambridgeshire and the forests of Suffolk, Kent, Essex and the Midlands, where wood pasture predominated and shepherding by young children must also have been common. 

Where crop farming predominated in the south and the east, children assisted in a host of other agricultural tasks. Although the work was more seasonal than in the pastoral areas, some tasks were allocated to children nearly every season of the year. One major job was ploughing, especially in the autumn season, but sometimes also in the winter and the spring, depending on the crop schedules adopted by individual farmer. Thomas Carleton, William Stout, Simon Forman and Josiah Langdale all remembered working at the plough in their young years. In other seasons, children assisted in “harrowing, scaring birds once the corn was sown, weeding, picking fruit, and spreading dried dung to manure the soil in the spring and summer. 

During the harvest, children also contributed their share by bringing food to those working in the field, leading horses, and helping to bind the corn into sheaves. Older children also participated in haymaking and shearing.'' Among the very poor, children assisted during the harvest weeks by gleaning alongside their mothers. Even in winter, children provided some assistance: threshing, stacking sheaves, cleaning the barn and, in places and soils that required it in the winter, ploughing as well.'' Children carried out household tasks throughout the year: fetching water and gathering sticks for fuel, going on errands, assisting mothers in milking, preparing food, cleaning, washing and mending. 

In some rural industries, which expanded in the north and the west, children were also taught to spin and card, and girls were trained in hand-knitting, lacemaking and stocking knitting; the latter became, by the late seventeenth century, a large industry. In some towns, domestic industries such as clothmaking and pinmaking also provided work for children. The pinmaking industry could employ younger boys and girls to put knobs on pins by hand, and from the 1570s, when pinmaking with brass wire became more widespread, in London it was a source of living for many poor adults and their children.

Gender differences in the tasks allocated to children were to some extent already apparent at young ages. William Stout remembered that while he and his brothers were required to assist in husbandry, his sister was 'early taught to read, knit and spin, and also needle work'. When she grew up, she continued to work alongside her mother, assisting in waiting on her younger brothers, and in preparing food and clothing. Girls also provided assistance in housework: in washing, preparing food and marketing. In an estate near Bolton, payments paid by the bailiff to labourers included those for washing to 'wife Turner and her folks'. Some of these folks were probably young daughters.

But the division of tasks between boys and girls, especially among the very poor, was anything but clear-cut. In a petition of the inhabitants of Hertfordshire to King James I it was claimed that young girls in that region were employed in 'picking wheat a great time of the year'. In some estates in the north of the country, there are records of payments for 'divers women' for turf-gathering and for weeding; and tasks such as fetching water and milk, gathering sticks, picking and spreading dung, and doing errands were performed by young brothers and sisters alike. The account of Henry Best, a yeoman in Yorkshire, shows that his 'spreaders of muck and molehills' were for the most part women, boys and girls.

The pace of entry of children to work was gradual. While younger children could assist in various jobs - fetching water and milk, gathering sticks for fuel, bringing food to those working in the fields, or picking dung - the more demanding agricultural tasks were normally not given to children before they reached their early teens. Thomas Shepard remembered that he was put to keep geese when he was no more than three years old; but tending flocks of sheep normally did not start until around the age of 10. Thomas Tryon, Samuel Bownas and William Stout all looked after sheep when they were 10, 11 and 14 respectively.

Ploughing, which required physical strength and an ability to direct the animals properly, was not normally given to youngsters before 11 or 12 years of age. In the harvest, children under 10 or 12 years of age carried food and assisted the binders; but only at about 12 years and upwards did they begin to drive loaded wagons and lead horses, while participation in haymaking was probably delayed until the mid-teens. If they were strong enough for their age, and the family was poor and in great need, a child could be recruited to plough or join the older shepherds as early as the age of nine rather than at ten. But overall, training in the more skilled and demanding tasks normally began when children reached about 10 years.  

…It is doubtful that a very young child worked full days or very long hours in weeding or threshing. Nor was it likely that spinning would become a normal routine at the age of seven. Evidence from autobiographies written in the nineteenth century by people who grew up in families who relied on handloom weaving for their living suggests that their entry to work was gradual. At seven they spread cotton to help an older brother who spinned; then they began to wind, and at the age of 10 or 11, to spin. Nor was the winding of bobbins done full-time; it began with assistance to mothers, and alternated with going on errands, fetching water, and taking some time off. This was probably how a Lancashire 10-year-old boy, who testified in the 1630s that his mother had brought him up to spin wool, learnt his craft. 

…The pace of entry into most tasks, in agriculture as well as industry, was bound to be adjusted to the physical and mental limitations of the youngsters; so that while child labour was widespread, it did not begin 'as soon as children could walk,' as J.H. Plumb put it many years ago. Nor did it start at a standard age of seven or eight years old. By their mid-teens many children had acquired some agricultural proficiency.”

-  Ilana Krausman Ben-Amos, “Early Lives: Separation and Work.” in  Adolescence and Youth in Early Modern England

#children #renaissance #georgian #history #farming #adolescence and youth in early modern england #elizabethan #jacobean #caroline era #ilana krausman ben amos

[aristocratic-otter]

It's been a productive day, so I definitely have stuff to share! Thank yous and tags under the cut. On to the snips!

From: Westward Son:

Last night, leaving seemed the only possible solution. But the farther I get from the wagons…from my friends…from Baz, the more doubts begin to crowd my mind. And these doubts speak in the voices of the people I love. 

Penny: Simon, why didn’t you check in with us before you did something drastic?

Shepard: Simon, you know we all care about you. Don’t you think it would hurt us to lose you?

Baz: Snow, how could you leave me?

From: my COBB, Threads of Fate:

I lay there, fighting to push back the nausea for a minute or so. It’s only once my ears stop ringing and my muscles stop twitching that I’m able to notice my surroundings again. Penny’s just now sitting up and shaking her head next to me. The surface under me is soft and gritty, and when I lift a handful of the sediment to my face, it’s clearly sand. I look out towards the west and see the endless blue just as Penny says: “Merlin’s balls, Simon, you took us to the ocean!”

From: Saving Simon Snow:

“Not only is my father quite unhappy with my queerness, he’s probably furious that he has to give up punishing you in order to save me.”

I think about that. It makes sense. I’m sorry that Baz’s relationship with his father was harmed by his bond to me, but I can’t exactly be sorry that the old homophobe was forced to accept Baz’s situation. 

“That and he probably doesn’t want to have to think about us having gay sex in his house,” I say wryly. 

That startles a laugh out of Baz.

From: To Heal a Broken Mind:

I’m kissing Simon Snow. And he’s kissing me back. How did I get so lucky? His mouth is hot against mine. He’s breathing raggedly, in those brief moments between kisses. I think if he didn’t actually have to breathe in order to live, he’d never let me go. Even as it is, he holds my face close each time he pulls away and gasps his hot breath over my lips. 

and from Raising Dragons:

The egg shell breaks into two halves, and, flailing between the two, a tiny pinkish red infant lets out its first thready wail.

Tears are running down my face. I gather the baby into my arms and whisper, “hello, my darling. I’m your papa and I’m so happy to meet you.”

The child slowly quiets and stops squirming in my arms. I examine it once it’s lying still enough for me to do so. Cloudy pale blue eyes gaze mistily up at me from a reddish, wrinkled face.

I'm just going to tease the fact that Fristi and I were talking tonight (or I guess yesterday) (Shush, I'm pretending it's still Sunday) about a potential sequel to Raising dragons; a series of vignettes about the Snow-Pitch offspring at Watford.

Thank you to the lovely and talented @artsyunderstudy, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @j-nipper-95, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @facewithoutheart, @chen-chen-chen-again-chen and @whatevertheweather for tagging me this week.

And tagging, for next week (or just waving hello) to all of the above plus: @frjsti, @yellobb-old, @bazzybelle, @bookish-bogwitch, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @dragoneggos, @fatalfangirl, @hushed-chorus, @ic3-que3n, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @ileadacharmedlife, @ionlydrinkhotwater, @johnwgrey, @jbrrring, @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists, @krisrix, @larkral, @letraspal, @moments-au-crayon22, @moodandmist, @nightimedreamersghost, @nausikaaa, @onepintobean, @prettylightsbigcity, @raenestee, @theearlgreymage, @tea-brigade, @twinkle-twinkle-up-above, @upuntil6am, @urban-sith, @whogaveyoupermission, @yeonjunenby

#cotta 2021 #cobb 2023 #Dragon babies #Canon divergence #forced marriage #House AU #six sentence sunday #co/ws/awtwb

[scope-dogg]

Long post about Mass Effect below

I noticed that there’s a big mass effect trilogy remaster coming out and it just made me think back on how badly the ball was dropped with that series. When the first game came out it immediately became perhaps my favourite game of all time, it was the kind of game where I was tearing up at the ending and then immediately started up a new playthrough the instant the credits got done rolling. The game was extremely jank and rough around the edges and it ran like total shit on the 360, but I loved it anyway because I fell in love with the lore of the universe, the characters and the story. It was one of those games where I’d play it in the most obsessively completionist manner possible, doing every singe sidequest possible, talking to every character on the ship after every mission, browsing the ingame codex for hours on end and dosing up on lore. When it was confirmed that Mass Effect 2 was in development I had such high hopes, of course I wanted to see the gameplay tightened up and the technical side of things improved, but more than that I just wanted to see more of the universe, get more of the universe to explore and learn more about it, and I was especially excited at the possibility that the choices I’d made, especially the massive ones in regards to the council at the end of ME1, would carry forward and really shake up the way the fate of the universe would pan out in the long term.

When the game finally came out, I enjoyed it, but it wasn’t really what I was hoping for. While the combat was much improved over ME1, I couldn’t help but feel like everything else was pared back too much - like, levelling and loot in ME1 weren’t all that well done but I was still really disappointed to see how they were all but stripped out in the sequel. I especially hated how crap sidequests on uncharted worlds were, they were basically just short combat sections with almost nothing in the way of meaningful dialogue or choices to make. Like, don’t get me wrong, uncharted worlds in ME1 felt like the maps were procedurally generated and the Mako had wacky controls, but they still managed to pull off the right atmosphere of going to these dangerous and remote places on alien worlds, and there was some legitimately intriguing stuff going on in some of those sidequests, and it was honestly a little infuriating to see all that basically get the axe entirely instead of getting some polish. I also just felt like the additions to the lore and story were disappointing. I was excited to find out about how society in the Terminus systems was different from Citadel space and meet some new alien races, but that didn’t really happen - I guess they tried with Omega, but that just felt like a mildly edgier version of the Citadel. The only new alien race aside from the Collectors they introduced were the Vorcha and I guess the Batarians if you didn’t play the DLC for ME1, but neither ended up being all that interesting. People remember ME2′s story fondly because of the characters, and I agree that the characters are great, Legion and Mordin especially stand out though all of your squadmates and major supporting characters on the ship are great (except maybe Jacob I guess) as are each of their accompanying stories that get resolved through their loyalty missions, but I think that the actual core plot of ME2 isn’t good at all. The whole thing about you dying and coming back to life seems like it was done just to have the excuse of having a timeskip happen, and I never felt particularly compelled by the Illusive Man or Cerberus as a faction - they were in a sidequest chain in ME1 technically but I still felt like they kind of came out of nowhere and never really fit into the grand scheme of things properly - there’s nothing that they really enable Shepard to do differently that wouldn’t have already been justified by you being a Spectre. The revelations about the Collectors and ultimately what they were doing with the colonists they were kidnapping felt really stupid and pointless apart from giving you an excuse to have a really cheesy and out-of-place final boss. The final mission was only exciting because of the tension of potentially losing one or more of your squadmates than because of what the actual consquences of failure for the galaxy were if you failed. There was no compelling antagonist to square off against like Saren in ME1, and ultimately the whole thing felt kind of pointless - it wasn’t until later after the trilogy was done that I realised that you could take ME2 out of the equation entirely and it wouldn’t make that much difference, but even in those moments as the credits were rolling after I beat the game for the first time, I was struggling to make up my mind about whether I’d actually enjoyed the game or not. I mean, it wasn’t like the game was bad or anything but I was thinking more about the opportunities that they missed rather than the good things they added. I was really missing that sense of discovery and exploring an alien galaxy that the first game had and got left by the wayside for the second. I did start up a new playthrough after that like I did with ME1 but IIRC I didn’t bother finishing that playthrough.

Then along came ME3. Everything about that game is depressing. The whole path of the plot and just the unrelenting apocalyptic tone of the game in general feels like it’s actively punishing you if you actually like the setting, characters, lore and so on and so forth. I know a lot of people like the Citadel DLC that they released because it lightened the tone a bit, but even with that I find it hard to set aside the fact that the universe is literally ending while you’re trying to take a break from it all with how hard the rest of the game beats you over the head with it. How bad the endings were even with the “fix” DLC that got added is a horse that’s been thoroughly beaten to death by now, but it’s not just the endings either. I already didn’t like the Illusive Man or Cerberus and had a hard time buying them as an organisation with the kind of reach and pull they had as portrayed in ME2, but seeing them turn into the Hellghast in ME3 not only betrays that portrayal of them as an org that works through subterfuge but also stretches my disbelief beyond breaking point, plus it brings you into contact with Kai Leng who has to be up there as one of the most obnoxious rival characters in any videogame ever. Otherwise, it did a few things that ME2 did slightly better and some things slightly worse, and didn’t really do anything to recapture the stuff that made ME1 so memorable to me that ME2 skipped out on. And then there was the way that Javik, the game’s most interesting new squadmate by far, was preorder DLC, and then there was the multiplayer that you were kinda forced into playing if you wanted the best ending in the singleplayer (for all the difference that made) and was riddled with lootbox microtransactions (the first major implementation of that in a AAA game IIRC.) The coup de grace for me was when dipshit vidya journalists circled the wagons around Bioware and were taking a dump on angry and disappointed fans who were demanding a change to the ending. Like, looking back I think there was a lot of histrionics involved with that from the fanbase, and let’s just say that the Bioware fanbase has earned a reputation for being particularly turbulent, but even so I really couldn’t stand the attitude that they were taking and it made me hate the game itself by proxy that much more. (I honestly think that entire saga set the stage for Gamergate two years later.)

Eventually when ME Andromeda ended up being a stillborn flop, it didn’t even really move the needle for me that much because ME3 had already set the bar so low. Worse though is that the first game was retrospectively ruined for me. Like I said earlier, I was a hyperfan for that game when it came out, but now I can’t go back to it without thinking about the disappointments that followed it, and its flaws stand out extra hard now. After I beat it for the first time it was my number 1, now I’m not sure it’s in the top 10. There’s probably the added factor that I played it to death and know it almost off by heart which takes the shine away, but that’s also the case for some of my other all-time favourites like Metroid Prime 1 and 2, Ace Combat 2, or Command and Conquer Red Alert 2, but those never really dropped in my estimation the way Mass Effect did. Honestly to this day I’m still waiting for someone to do another star-hopping sci-fi RPG in the same vein as Mass Effect and to pull it off well, because at this point I’m all but certain that it’s not going to be Bioware that does it, not with the new one they’ve got coming in the works or the trilogy remaster.

[shadoedseptmbr]

20 Stories Meme

Tagged by @dr-ladybird. Thank you!  Tagging my dash, come play and tag me if you do!

First Lines of Last 20 Stories Meme

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line.

1. perhaps perhaps perhaps:  He’s never quite sure after; just what made him do it.

2. meet cute:  He was finishing up breakfast, a last solitary treat before boarding. 

3. reflection: Aedan focused on the apple in her hand as the crew filtered in and out of the mess for breakfast. 

4. wake:  Aedan frowned at him and Kaidan had to admit if he still looked like he had in the mirror this morning; exhausted, circles under his eyes and lines drawn around his mouth, she had a reason to doubt.

5. shore leave:  They had all of three days, three nights on this scrap of beach where no one knew them and they could blend into the faceless mass of tourists on the Sun Coast.

6. a good year for the roses:  At the borders of Ferelden, there are roses.

7. any port in a storm:  “Hawke, I’m bored. What does a girl have to do around here to stir up some action?”

8. Encounter:  Sebastian noticed the child first; tucked in a ball with her knees beneath her chin, under an overturned wagon that had landed in what had once been a pretty- if tiny- garden.

9. red sky at morning:  They were running late on their rounds but the sidewalk had emptied out as the sun fell and the street began to shut down for the night.

10. Bad Pennies:  The Ambassador had cut Shepard loose from the preliminaries of the next Council meeting as they discussed the asari’s new information and she’d taken the opportunity for Williams and him to grab some lunch with her.

11. pictures of you:  Ash had all the holos.

12. A Pause with Elegant: The atmosphere of her boudoir, carefully constructed, had changed and Elegant paused to assess before she stepped in and closed the door behind her. 

13. Making N:  James had flopped down into the seat next to her, still radiating heat and damp from his shower and Aedan couldn’t help but glance him over with a smirk.

14. full stop:  Only one of his fire team required medical attention after last week’s extreme field test and Kaidan calls it a win.

15. at rest: “Major? Shepard is looking for you.” 

16. affection:  They’re still panting, the buzz of the third (maybe? she’d lost count) still spinning between them, Kaidan’s steady heart thundering under her ear and Aedan gives him one last kiss, tasting ozone on his lips, before she slips away from him. (not as nsfw as this sentence might indicate)

17. kiss in a dream:  Two things about Aedan Shepard were true.

18. darktown:  Darktown isn’t.

19. wrestle me free:  It’s a blur.

20. vigil:  He rarely dallied these days, when the watchtowers sent word that the Inquisitor and her companions were approaching Skyhold.

Hmm.  Not sure i see a theme, though if anyone else does please let me know.  I probably put less emphasis on a first line than a last.  And I don’t have a favorite.  Probably the “two things about Aedan Shepard were true” from the kiss in a dream ficlet.  Lots of things about Aedan are true.  Sometimes the truth is negotiable ;D

#sept writes #tag games #first lines

[plainbrunettelbl]

I know you probably won’t see this, but I just thought you needed something wholesome to read. So I’m a vet technician and I see all different types of animals. But today we got a Chesapeake bay retriever mixed w/ a poodle. Anyways, the owner came in and said that they also had some puppies to get checked up, and in a red wagon their was 10 little Chesapeake bay retriever/poodle/German Shepard mix. Cutest and sweetest things I’ve ever treated.

Omg tha sounds like the cutest thing ever!! 😍 Thank you for telling me about it! 💕

[elliotstudio]

Slipping into a different world — A couple weeks back with Garrett while driving back from a shoot in Salt Lake, we took an exit off I-80 in Southern Wyoming in favor of feeling the rumble of dirt and eyes wide at the arid Western expanses at half the speed. After descending down a series of steep switchbacks, in the distance, we glimpsed what looked like a covered wagon of old. As we neared, we could make out a few massive draft horses, a couple wagons, a man splitting wood and a few puppies mewing about. After introducing ourselves in the little Spanish I’m equipped with, Jaime told us about his season with Eusebio, his fellow shepherd, spending over six months living out of this relic “campito” trailer - slowly moving across the sage sea with their flock of sheep. It’s a life of bare existence - tied directly to the moods of nature, fifty pound bags of rice and beans for subsistence, harvested juniper and cedar for warmth and a few solar panels scattered about to recharge the radio and lights. As romantic as this existence is at times, I could imagine it’s a tough one and also one of the most vulnerable to exploitation. Shepards like Jaime are in the U.S. on an agricultural H-2A visa - a system that places nearly all the power into the hands of the employer with very little oversight. According to Colorado Rep Daniel Kagan, “Sheepherders are completely at the mercy of their employers, depending on them utterly for food, shelter, medical care, clothing, and, even, for human contact. That state of total dependency is wrong, and almost invites abuse of the employee. Already, they are woefully underpaid and, during lambing season, a herder can be required to work as many as twenty hours in a day. A day off is something a sheepherder can only dream about.” In fact, the state of Wyoming requires that an employer pays only $650 a month. How this isn’t state-sanction exploitation is beyond me - but to be clear, Jaime and I didn’t get into any of this. Over the next few months I plan on pursuing this story and hope to have more to share with you soon. And to my photo editor friends, I’m looking for an editorial partner 🙃 (at Wyoming) https://www.instagram.com/p/CK7ndYjFIe6/?igshid=1oss10j8hwjlf

[citadelsushi]

Heads Up, 7 Up

I’ve been tagged in several WIP progress memes lately but haven’t been around much to play. I haven’t been writing much lately, either, but I still thank you all for tagging me! 

Tagged by: @mallaidhsomo, @foofyschmoofer, @lonyn, @theoriginalladya, @alyssalenko, @pigeontheoneandonly, @ljandersen, @crqstalite, @pip-n-flinx

Tagging: All of you and anyone else who would like to share!

“Shepard.” He takes her by the shoulders, just firm enough to be reassuring without setting her off. “I know.”

Stubbornness sets her jaw. “You didn’t fuckin’ know they weren’t gonna shoot you in the goddamn face.”

He knows she’s serious, that her excessive swearing comes from a place of concern, but it still makes him smile. The woman could make a sailor blush. “One of my first days as a deputy, we rode out to check on a reported busted wagon. Anderson warned me it could be a trap. And it was.” He removes his hands from her shoulders, rubs at the back of his neck. “The dirt was stained for weeks. It was such a mess, we built a new road. No one could stand travelling over that patch of earth.” His hand falls to his side. 

Shepard clings to her anger, “And you went trottin’ up there anyway.”

“I had back up.” He shrugs. “That’s more than you can say most of the time.”

Her frown deepens.

“If someone needs help, I’m going to help them.”

#yes this western au still occupies a large part of my brain at any given moment #i miss them #WIP #tagged