#best goat farming projects

[vermillioncrown]

seeing IT infrastructure from multiple R1 universities to gov't research and ops and i legit have to huff into a paper bag when i must witness the popular depiction of hacking/IT/cybersecurity

[tvickiesims]

Real Animated Pets - Goat, Sheep and Llama

This project is our fruit of labour with @deedee-sims. I was looking for a way to have more "alive" pets in Sims 2 and approached DeeDee. Luckily for all of us, she liked the idea and helped me out with the most difficult parts. This project would not be possible without you, thank you DeeDee ❤️

From the technical point of view all animals are custom collars for large dogs (and only large dogs). In order for them to work as on previews, you need to assign your dog a transparent fur (a brand new creation by DeeDee that makes dogs' fur completely invisible, included in the archive) and then pick an animal skin you want from the collar section. If you'd like to change the appearance of an existing large dog, be sure to buy it a desired collar on a community lot first! Dog's breed is also important, it can make chubbier or thinner animals. If your fur doesn't look completely transparent, be sure to uncheck all the fur accessories. I'd recommend using a default white no name breed (looks best with animations).

Swatches:

We (especially DeeDee! ❤️) did our best making new animals move as smoothly as possible, but be aware that clipping is still present in certain animations. Also, these animals behave and sound like normal dogs. Hopefully we'll find a way to mute them in the future.

Animals come with a set of objects that are more appropriate for farm animals - new bed, toy, 2 "bowls" and deco hay. Objects have morphs and dirty states. Note that the feeders works like a pet bowl meaning they will randomly rotate but it won't prevent pets from eating normally.

All animals come with original Sims 4 textures (1024x1024 for llama and 512x512 for goat and sheep), converted and tweaked by me. Animal colors are separated so you can pick and choose only the ones you want. Collection file for objects is included. I also recommend these and these Uldum rug add-ons (if you want other sizes for the hay overlay).

Polycount: Goat: 3793 Sheep: 3545 Llama: 7133

A special thank you goes to @platinumaspiration for the time and energy she spent explaining additional stuff to me ❤️

@atomtanned made cute llama recolors, here.

Compressed, clearly labelled, picture included.

Download at SFS

_ _ _

UPDATE 10/10/2023

Changed pet toy animation to silent chewy one (thank you @vegan-kaktus and @executables-sims), the archive was updated but if you don't want to redownload the whole thing, here's only the updated toy.

UPDATE 12/10/2023

Added a new feeder - prarie grass converted from Sims 4 Horse Ranch. Now your new pets can feed on the fresh grass. Collection file was updated too.

UPDATE 17/02/2024

Fixed toy's thumbnail - it's no longer empty. Added a custom version for the hay rug, I'd recommend using a custom rug rather than ULDUM because it has no outdoor shadow (ULDUM can't be fixed). Updated the collection file to include new rug.

UPDATE 05/09/2024

Updated Prairie Grass Feeder to have smoother edges. It looks much nicer now.

[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - snippet - COD

CHAPTER ONE IS OUT <3 TUMBLR OR AO3

This is a snip of the first chapter for my upcoming wip fic 🫡 yes I have 20+ other projects, no I will not stop myself. This is not really checked for mistakes and stuff will probably change in the actual first chapter of the fic. But here u go, a snack for my sinners.

Word count: 2.5k-ish words

Hybrid!Reader x Price, reader x kinda poly141 later in fic, more to come

Small summary: This is an AU with Price becoming a farmer, hybrid dog!reader as a spoiled pet who doesn’t want to live this country life and hybrid working dogs!Gaz, Simon and Soap, who gets bought by Price. Chaos and smut ensues. Anyways, there won’t be this much in this snip.

Minors do not interact. I will block you if I can’t see any kind of indication of age on your blog.

Cw: There is the whole aspect of holding hybrids as pets, there is violence and punishments in this snippet, being hit with a belt. there is smut at the end (not much). Reader has a pussy, she/her. Reader is chubby but I tried my best to keep other descriptions vague.

��✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The countryside was peaceful compared to the city; the lack of the bustling streets and constant traffic, created a quietness that was hard to describe.

Out here, at the new farm, the noise came from animals that lived in the stables and barn, the occasional rumble as a tractor turned on. The wind tickled the never ending fields of wheat and the long rows of fruit trees, under which the goats and sheep walked most days.

Here the stress wasn't like in the city. Sure, there were stressful moments and sometimes Price looked like he needed to sleep for more than just the few hours he got everyday.

But he didn’t have to worry about the morning traffic, waiting in a queue for an overpriced, questionable tea or coffee. There was no need for him to wear a suit, no noisy, overfilled train cars in the underground. No crowded dog or hybrid parks, no meetings or rules to follow - except those John Price decided for himself.

He was happy, it was clear to you. It had been three months since the move - he had gone back to his roots, buying back the farm that his parents had used to own a little while ago, using some of his endless wealth on renovating the place. There was no step on the stairs that was loose, like it used to when he was a kid - sure they still creaked, but you weren’t afraid they would disappear from beneath you.

It was modernized, but most of the old charm left. Price fit right in; the furniture he had inherited and never believed he would use was suddenly in the living room. His knowledge of the business world was abandoned in the city, for the knowledge of farming that he still had left from his youth. John got a couple of farm hands and workers, who helped him with the big place.

It was like he reclaimed his own self that had been buried beneath ties and paperwork. Now he didn’t smoke his cigars from stress, but from pleasure, clearly much happier.

It was like the farm had made John Price happy once more; his smiles more genuine, his true self stepping forth. Returning to his childhood home and taking over the farm had been the best decision Price had made. There was no question about it.

… and you hated every bloody day at the farm.

The early morning hours being disturbed by the farm waking up, the rooster crowing and John leaving the bed, giving you a pat in between your ears. The constant bugs, the muddy stables and the big animals, the helpers who always teased you for not fitting in, the lack of friends you had out here.

You were not made for farm life. Literally. Simply not made for it.

Some would argue that you, as a hybrid pet, didn’t have a say in it and sure, legally you didn’t. But you were a lapdog, an elegant pet. Not a farm dog. Created to be cared for and cuddled, you were a purebred cocker spaniel hybrid; you weren’t made to run around on a farm, following John on his duties And doing work.

Sure, you had the instincts to hunt a few things here and there, but it was mostly balls and the occasional bird or squirrel. You weren’t a guard hybrid, not really a working dog.

You had had enough trauma throughout your life - you deserved not to be forced into this!

You wanted John to be happy, you really did - you loved your Master! When he bought you a few years ago, when you were still aggressive and unruly (… more than now at least), you had thought he would tire of you like everybody else had. But with patience, rules, training, praise and punishment and a whole lot of sex later, you were a perfect hybrid pet for the city! People always praised how well you looked, laughing when Price said you were really a little troublemaker. You would follow him throughout the fancy apartment, on your daily walks, sometimes for meetings.

But why the fuck did it have to be a farm? He worked around the same time that he did before, genuinely seeming to enjoy himself. Forgetting about poor you!

Out here, there were no hybrid daycare that you would go to when he had long days, there were none of your playmates nearby, everything stank of animals and there were no places nearby for you to get your hair and fur styled and pampered! No nail technicians, no fancy cafes, no shops for John to buy you things in! No special made coffee or chef-made meals every other evening, no freshly baked croissants.

You felt like you had tried. You really had.

But after the first week, you had your first breakdown - and as the weeks passed, they didn’t stop. At first, John was sympathetic, like the perfect owner he was.

Cooing at you, kissing your forehead, as he gently scratched your ears. Kissing away any tears, saying it was okay - that you were just overwhelmed, that it would be okay. That you would come to like it out here.

Big fucking joke.

He had tried every trick in the book, in an attempt to please you and made you less upset, but as days turned into weeks and tantrums began to appear, you knew his patience began to disappear.

He followed professional advice and then the advice of the neighbors down the street, Rodolfo and Alejandro (who had caught you running away at one point), tried some of the workers’ advice. He had given you your own room, and it was mostly designed like your own, perfect to the pale green paint on the wall, all your toys and dog beds, your CDs - everything. He had tried hauling you along every day, trying to give you a routine to follow - but after two weeks, he gave up, not having the energy to deal with a tantrum that got worse and worse each day. He went on walks with you, fucked you silly, tried his best — and you didn’t want it.

No, you wanted to go back to your old life. Not this country life that you hadn’t signed up for, with horses that neighed loudly whenever you passed them; they were definitely going to trample you at the first chance, you knew that. You could hear foxes scream in the night, warning you of the dangers. The goats and sheep were so fucking loud and no you didn’t want to go pick fresh apples off the trees - had he seen the size of the spiders crawling on them?

When you in one of your biggest tantrums took off and bolted from the farm in distress, Rodolfo and Alejandro had almost hit you when you emerged from the corn fields onto the road.

You had cried the entire drive home, no matter what the two men had tried saying, especially as Rodolfo called Price in advance — your master was livid. The worst thing was, that it was not that kind of anger where he yelled at you before punishing you - no, this one was almost silent, a sharp grip on your collar as he dragged you along after thanking Rudy and Ale.

He had belted you then, ignoring your crying and screaming, only stopping when you broke, sobbing and going quiet. He had explained it to you then, what could have happened, what dangers you could have ended in - and as you sobbingly apologized and tried to explain, that you wanted to go back to the city, John had sighed.

Said that he had pampered you too much since he got you, which had made you greedy and attention seeking. Which only made you cry more, as you hid your face in his neck, fingers digging into his shirt, ass cheeks burning.

“Spoiled rotten, little birdie,” he mused, though you could hear the softness in him, your tail wagging a little, hoping to get him to be less mad.

“‘M sorry,” you had whined, ears tipping down, “wanna be good but I don’t like it.”

Your rather dull escape attempt resulted in several things. An AirTag on your collar, so that he always knew where you were. A remarkable lack of treats, sex and then… the crate.

You fucking hated the crate.

Sure, it hadn’t been nice of you to bite one of his pillows into a simple pulp of fabric, feathers everywhere. Or create chaos in the kitchen… or get drunk on his fancy whiskey (that one had ended worse for you, hangover was a bitch and there wasn’t much sympathy from John). And yes, you might have ripped most of the flowers surrounding the house up, until one of the workers had caught you. Maybe pissing yourself in the middle of the living room while staring him in the eyes and ignoring his warnings had been a little…excessive.

But the dog crate? You hated that thing.

Hated it when he locked you up, ignoring your whimpers and whines, your promises to behave, ignoring your little howls as he left.

Mean. The farm had made him mean. Perhaps you had become a bit unruly too, but it was like he didn’t take your clear suffering seriously.

Mean and happy - unruly and suffering. What a pair you were. One of the workers, Laswell, who was a big helper and often stayed over for dinner, suggested a fucking shock collar. You had growled, only stopped when John sent you a sharp look.

You had even heard him talking over the phone with somebody, saying that he didn’t want to rehome you, but he didn’t know what to do.

That had made you melt a little and you had cried as you had crawled into his bed a couple of hours later, begging him to not abandon you.

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It was a random morning a couple of days later, that you found him still in the kitchen, reading the newspaper, humming to himself while smoking a cigar.

He looked nice like this. Despite how he sometimes muttered about being too old, he wasn’t really that old. Late thirties, and perhaps it was the peace on his face or the sun rays that kissed him, which made him look younger. But still. There was a decade between you, but days like this, you were reminded that it didn’t matter.

“Are you going to stare all day or are you going to join me, Darling?” He asked teasingly, pulling you from your thoughts. You let out a little huff and kissed him good morning, receiving a pat on the ass before you sat down on your own seat. It had been a while since the two of you had eaten together - often he was up at the crack of dawn, so his calm behavior and gentle humming was unusual to say the least.

“Why are you not working?” You asked carefully, as you ate some of the bread, trying to ignore how it wasn’t a fancy sourdough one - though you were pretty sure he had picked it up from a local bakery in the village which was a little drive away.

“Because,” he put the paper down, then tapping some ash off the cigar into his ashtray, before looking over at you, a pleased smile on his face, “you and I are going on a trip.”

“A trip?” You didn’t even bother to be embarrassed about how your voice got higher with excitement or how your tail thumped against the backrest of the chair as you wagged it, “where are we going? When? Can we go now?”

Price had laughed, a happy sound that you knew not many got to hear; it made your heart beat a little faster, made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

“Well, we got to do a few things first to get ready, and you,” he used the cigar to point at you, your tail wagging a little faster, “need to not freak out when I tell you where we are going.”

Despite the warning, tears streamed down your cheeks when he told you. John didn’t get mad as a part of you had expected; he knew your abandonment issues first hand, knew how you had been left behind before, from one bad owner to another.

“You’re going to sell me and leave me with a mean owner and I’m gonna die of hunger and thirst - and - and —“

“Not gonna leave you, princess,” John crooned, covering your face in kisses as you hiccuped and sniffled, clinging to his clothes, “you know that. My favorite puppy. Pretty girl.”

Despite your tears and small sobs, your tail wagged at his words, “silly puppy,” he mused with a smile, gently scratching your lower back, “‘m not gonna sell you. Ale and Rodolfo are looking for a hybrid, I figured we could go look at the auction as well.”

“What if - what if - what if you’ll like them more?” You sniffled dramatically, sure that your life was only going to become worse than it already was. One thing was this bloody farm and the crate, another thing was having to share Price. You didn’t like the idea one bit. If that happened, you were going to show him how a proper tantrum was thrown - the crate would probably be the least of your worries.

As if to prove his love, John bent you over the table, fucking you in between the clattering dishes and cutlery, tea and coffee almost spilling over. Despite how many times your owner fucked you, it made you lose control of your mind every single time. His cock reached so deep inside you that it bordered on pain, your mouth open as you panted and moaned at each thrust; your soft stomach being pressed against the edge of the table, one hand holding onto the back of your collar, the other on your tail. The table rattled, John groaned and moaned, your fingers desperately trying to hold onto anything.

“My princess,” he snarled darkly into your ear, “you’ll always be mine-“ a moan, a grunt, “- no matter what happens, yeah?”

“Yes ye-ah- yes, sir, I’m yours - ah ah - I’m yours!” you managed in between pants and wails of pleasure, fear of abandonment forgotten in the ocean of euphoric satisfaction.

You came harder than you had for a while; the reminder of your worth, of how you deserved his worship, making you cream around his throbbing length, legs in spasms afterwards. He pushed deeper, filling you up with a loud roar like sound, his hands moving to grab onto the fat of your ass and hips as he came. Pain and pleasure made your toes curl and a content sigh left you, your tail wagging against Price as he chuckled.

[huewrite]

Ok so hear me out (prepare to share)

One of the things I love right now is how writers can all see the same idea and come up with wildly different ideas of how to pull it off. Well really programers. Chefs. Artists. Anyone really.

And they can all work.

Like my story has been bopping around in my head after seeing some post debating what races had the best whatever recipes. And I'm like...

I wanna make a cook book like that.

But I didn't. Because life and I was working on a comic and all. But then this contest on tapas comes around and I'm like.

Yes.

Let's do this.

ACTION TIME.

But that wasn't enough. Because I saw some of the races and I like "but why tho". I mean we all know there are some racist ideas behind various races. And honestly, some races are like... been there done that. So my brain starts finding new twists on them.

The elves are the wine makers, have glamor because they look like eldritch horrors, and are basically dnd bards. "Dark elves" are basically the holiest warriors. Orcs? Blue and red which got mistaken for blood early on. They leaned into it for interactions but they really like to farm and raise sheep like critters. The centaurs are half goat not half horse and their cities are a PAIN to get into because they don't need roads, they have walls they can hop up.

And all of this still gets me adding in recipes people can cook. More or less based on what's happening. While the MC Enoki runs around on hir own tasting food and trying to save the world. Because oh yeah, the gods need a feast or they start blowing up the various races!

So, if you like, reblog and share some fun twists you took on in your work or creative project or whatever. Maybe share the link and some pics. And give a description too.

"Enoki was a assistant manager by day and recipe foodie vlogger by night. Going out and finding recipies from around the world and how they changed over time. Too bad a goat killed hir. Now a bunch of gods have given an ultimatum. Create a blessed and cursed feast in one year, or watch as the races of this new world are wiped out. Then ze is dropped into the world with no directions, no explanations of how to use hir shapeshifter or magic items, and a whole lot of people that aren't too sure about Enoki's plan. With an arsenal of jokes and a desire to taste everything once, can Enoki make the feast? Or will it be a cooking fail?"

[archangeldyke-all]

Little fucker growing up with slow living reader and sevika 🥹

i'm crying this is so fucking cute

men and minors dni

you and sevika pick a warm day about a month after you take little fucker home from the hospital to carry your baby around your little family farm and introduce her to all your animals.

the ducks and chickens were indifferent-- which you were expecting. sevika's a little upset that the birds aren't a little more excited about your daughter, and you just laugh and kiss her cheek.

"it's not snow white, sev, they're not gonna sing to her."

"but, baby, she's our baby! they should at least, like, do a little dance for her or something!"

the goats and sheep are much more excited, all sniffing little fucker with wide eyes, bleating happily, their tails wagging when they realize that the baby you'd been growing in your stomach is finally here. they were all incredibly protective of you when you were pregnant, so it's no surprise that they're all thrilled to see her now.

you assumed the cats would be indifferent at best, jealous at worst toward your baby.

you weren't expecting them to be obsessed with her.

there's always a cat by little fucker's side, bravely enduring her little grabbing hands and squeals and squawks in order to keep her safe.

(the first time your baby girl laughs is when she's squished between bert and ernie-- both of them grooming her by licking the four or five wisps of hair that have managed to grow on her head so far)

icicle, your first cat, is the most protective of your daughter out of all of them. she gives up her spot on sevika's chest every night to sleep on the dresser next to little fucker's crib, keeping a careful eye on her each night.

when little fucker starts to grow up, you let ice in her crib. the two cuddle each night, and you and sevika have about a million pictures of your babies curled together, snoozing.

she learns how to walk in the little field of wild flowers behind your garden. it's much more soft and cushioned than the hardwood inside, or the gravel on the driveway, so it's where you take her for a few hours each day to work on standing and walking.

some of your happiest memories are you and sevika and your little girl in your plush field of flowers, laughing and encouraging little fucker to take a few steps on her own as she grabs onto tall stalks beside her to balance herself.

once she knows how to walk?? you and sevika basically raise her in the goat pen lmaooooo

the goats adore her. she adores them. she's constantly laughing and rough housing with them, pushing them into piles of hay only to get tackled a few moments later. it's adorable.

(she also takes to butting her head against you and sevika like goats do when she needs attention or is upset. it's adorable-- but you worry a bit that she'll give herself a concussion.)

your favorite evening activity is walking through your garden with your baby, letting her pick berries off your bushes-- stuffing her face with the sweet fruit. it's beyond fulfilling and humbling to know that the food you've grown in the garden you've built is feeding the baby you made and adore so much.

sevika's quick to teach your baby how to be handy. each time a project pops up-- little fucker's by her mom's side, holding a flashlight for her, or passing her tools. sevika buys her a little toddler tool belt-- and she never takes it off. (it's usually loaded with snacks instead of tools, a banana hanging off her hip on one side and a bag of cheetos in the little pocket meant to carry screws on the other.)

you decide to homeschool her for pre-school, but once she's elementary aged, you want to send her to the local public school so she learns how to make human friends. (she's great with goats and cats.)

the school bus picks her up at the end of your winding drive-way, and each day when she comes home from school, all the animals start to wander over to the bus-stop, waiting for your baby to get home.

she gets off the bus with a grin each afternoon, squealing a "hi babies!" and then sprinting up the driveway with a dozen goats and ducks and cats running after her.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh

[beastren]

∞ Arisen & Pawn Character Introductions

original template by @arisenreborn :D

♛ THE ARISEN:

NAME: Nimh AGE: 23 RACE: Half-elf PRONOUNS: She/her PREFERRED VOCATION: Warfarer FAVORED GIFTS: Gems, things to make food with, particularly (princess) harspuds. FAMILY: Elf father, human mother.

POSITIVE TRAITS: Brave, hard-working, largely unconcerned with things she deems trivial, so it helps her have a good sense of drive/focus, but can also make her some across as uncaring. NEGATIVE TRAITS: Rash, reckless, impulsive, particularly in high-pressure moments, like if Lir gets downed. Easily frustrated. LIKES: Goats, books, small creeks. DISLIKES: The cold. Glyndwr. She doesn't have the best impression of elves in general, but also not the worst. Medusas.

1. What was their life like before becoming Arisen?

She lived on a small farm with her parents until she was about 16, when she decided to start traveling and doing odd jobs around Vermund, which is how she ended up as a sell-sword in Melve when the dragon attacked. Her family lived a decent bit away from any settlement, although they would go into the nearest towns to shop and trade every so often. She didn't have many friends because of this, so she took up reading from a young age, and it was her main hobby, aside from helping on the farm, which she did genuinely love.

2. How do they handle being Arisen, and the responsibilities that come with it?

She handles it pretty well, at the beginning, after she's gotten her memories back. The point where she didn't have them was quite rough though, and of course it gets rough later on when more things start feeling at stake. In the AU where she brings about the Unmoored World it's a bit horrifying, it's the absolute worst thing she could've ever imagined and the only things that get her through are the urge to set thing's right and Lir's determination.

3. What are their thoughts on Pawns in general?

Just fine! Not good or bad, and both before and after becoming an arisen she was inclined to see them as Just People, albeit with a bit more nuance later on.

4. What's their relationship like with their main Pawn?

Complicated and simple at the same time. Due to her love of books as a child, particularly tales of knights and princes, Lir was born from an idealized image of those figures. While he was made for her to fall in love with and be a crutch/wish fulfillment in a way, she also always struggled with attachment and attraction to men. It's not that she wasn't, but it happened very rarely. So between that, and also how convoluted, intense and unique the bond between arisen and main pawn can be, she spends a lot of time figuring out what might be projection or miss-attributed feelings. She does come to very much genuinely love him for him though, throughout their journey. More on this in Lir's paragraph on his feelings for Nimh and how he's changed.

5. Do they have any interest in being Sovran? What are their opinions on the politics of the world in general?

No interest in it at all smh.... She's definitely just handing the responsibility off to Sven lol. She was happy in her late teens/early 20's to be away from home and the farm, but as she goes through her journey as Arisen she finds herself longing for it again more than anything. So she really hopes Sven would also be willing to fund her getting a little farm of her own somewhere.... Maybe she could renovate those couple destroyed buildings overrun by saurians by the fields of Vernworth.... As she'd also hate to be too far from people again.

6. Who are their love interest(s) and/or closest friends?

Wilhelmina is her love interest, aside from Lir.... Wilhelmina kissing her to save her from the guards was her bi awakening lol. As for close friends, she gets along well with Menella and Brant. She likes to visit Waldhar too, as he becomes a great supply of books and is someone she can talk about them to. She likes hanging out with Ulrika and Fyoran when she visits Harve as well. Beren as well, and although she doesn't spend much time with him, he's one of the only people she truly feels she won't be judged for being quiet around.

7. What drew them to their preferred vocation? Do they have history with it?

She hates being limited (read: not being able to reach areas), so always being able to pull out a staff and levitate, or to pull out a magick bow to shoot enemies out of the sky or hit multiple targets is something she quickly finds she can't go back from once she has it. Though she usually equips all 4 of her skill slots with skills from one vocation anyway, mainly mystic spearhand and occasionally thief.

8. Do they have any hobbies? Any way of relaxing between all that monster-slaying and traveling?

Reading!! But also she at least does very much enjoy camping and making good food for everyone, especially finding ways to go above and beyond the default slab of meat. Maybe THIS is her secret to getting Lir to be so strong.... She also likes petting and playing with farm animals. She will often wander out into the fields outside of Vernworth to do this....

♟︎ THE PAWN:

NAME: Lir AGE: 24 RACE: Beastren PRONOUNS: He/him PREFERRED VOCATION: Warrior FAVORED GIFTS: Berries, delicately but pleasantly fragranced soaps. Handmade things and kind gestures in general. INCLINATION: Kindhearted

POSITIVE TRAITS: Kind, strong, loyal and sweet. NEGATIVE TRAITS: Self-sacrificing, can be a bit clueless. Clumsy around deep water. LIKES: Shallow water and baths, hot springs.... He enjoys traveling and seeing interesting sights but there's nothing better than a warm comfortable bed. DISLIKES: Deep water and the brine.... Dragonsplague....

1. What was their life like prior to being summoned by their Arisen?

Nothing much to note here! Just a foggy consciousness in the rift.... Nimh is his first and only arisen!

2. What is their opinion on the Arisen? How do they view their relationship?

He looks up to her a lot, before anything else. At first he's quite compelled by Nimh's will and her projection of it, as his arisen, onto him, and sort of loves her blindly for a while. But even at the start, part of his awe and wonder towards her is certainly genuine. More on this in the "how have they changed" section below.

3. Is there anything about the Arisen they find troublesome? Be it a small quirk or bad habit? (Or are they obviously flawless?)

He holds her in too high of a regard to think of any of her traits as too much of a flaw, but if he had to say some things, it'd be her recklessness when worrying over him, but also her difficulty at times with communication. Although they work together very well in battle, and there is a certain amount Lir can kind of just Sense off of her, there was a period in the middle of their journey (about the time they reached Battahl) where the two grew rather distant. Largely because Nimh was having difficulties sorting through her feelings for both Lir and Wilhelmina, and also just struggling as enemies got harsher in Battahl. This lead her to neglecting him a bit and just not talking to him about anything she was going through, which Lir would've absolutely preferred and believes would've saved them a lot of trouble. They do eventually have a breaking point where they work things out and grow closer than ever before.

4. What is their specialization and is there any story behind how they cultivated that skill set?

Chirurgeon!! He was a Logistician at first, but Nimh wold get frustrated at him crafting salubrious draught all the time before she could wait for fruit to ripen and dry to make roborant.... She decided to channel his affinity for curatives and his kindhearted nature into a specialization where he could look out for their party more directly.

5. Do they have any thoughts on the politics of the world and their place in it as a Pawn - or how Pawns are treated?

Lir can be very sensitive to it, feeling lots of grief at the ways pawns get mistreated in Battahl. It's extra odd for him being a beastren pawn as well.... But part of him does understand why they feel that way considering dragonsplauge, but it hurts nonetheless. He wants to be hopeful since Nadinia seems open-minded, but he wonders how much of what Phaesus does she truly knows about.

6. Does their journey with the Arisen change them in any significant way and how?

During the rough patch between Nimh and Lir, he starts to gain his own will bit by bit. At first this and the general circumstances do draw them apart, but Lir takes the time to ponder and sort out his own genuine, developing feelings. It's hard to sort out and get rid of Nimh's will completely, so things continue to be complicated, but Nimh is very wary of this and that isn't lost on Lir. He doesn't ever bring his feelings up directly for quite a long time because of this, although he does keep up his sweet manner of speech full of admiration as it is kind of second nature by now, albeit with a bit more Meaning. To keep the rest of this short, in one AU Lir, Nimh and Wilhelmina all end up happily together, retired at their farm with Sven as sovran. In another, they decide to bitter-sweetly part ways after everything so Lir can travel and become truly his own self. And there's also the unmoored world AU ofc.

7. Is there a reason they chose their preferred vocation?

In game he comments on this a lot lol, he loves being a warrior. Sometimes he even asks to be a warrior WHILE he's a warrior. Initially he was a fighter, influenced by Nimh's vision of a princely knight. But he felt a little stagnant after reaching max rank so they had him try out warrior and he just instantly thrived, he felt a lot more helpful/capable/powerful too, so it just stuck!!

8. Do they have any hobbies or preferred past-times?

Hmmm, that's hard.... He's rather go with the flow so he can be happy chilling and doing whatever, like watching the clouds or the stars.... But I could see him having a journal/scrapbook or something!! I'm sure he gets into a lot of stuff in the AU where he sets out on his own but i'd have to ponder it more.... Kind of related, but he would help re-braid Nimh's hair often and got quite good at it, on top of it being quite relaxing to him.... Hairstylist....

[the-whispers-of-death]

Sarabi takes rich reader to a petting zoo for a "down to earth" date (he loves all the fancy stuff but we all need a break sometimes)

reader is absolutely obssessed with the baby animals. as a rich guy he probably had horses around and is just.... almost in tears when he sees a foal or a pony because it reminds him of his favorite stalion he had when he was a kid. rich reader fucking SOBBING when he holds a baby bird in his hands (im projecting because i would totaly cry if i got to hold one). and what's even better is that all the animals love rich reader, they flock to him for pets and even the old grumpy goat likes him. reader loves baby goats and sheep, holding them to his chest (while sobbing) and petting EVERYTHING.

reader ends up adopting an old farm dog and lets the dog live like a king in his massive estate.

Sarabi has to physically hold reader back from adopting everything.... or just an entire dog shelter

Stop, this is actually so cute. Sarabi is an animal lover (though it's not evident considering he's a grump most of the time) so he'd love the petting zoo as well.

He too cries when holding a baby bird, though he trusts you not to tell anyone about that. He's low-key envious of your ability to have all of the animals flock to you, it makes him grumpy. He has love to give the animals too!

Sarabi relates to the old grumpy goat though, says that's basically what he'd be like if he was a goat. How fitting that the grumpy goat likes you like he does, he thinks.

The old farm dog that you adopt is going to be trained to attack, just like how Kali's wolf, Shadow, was taught to by Sarabi. If there's anything that would spark an argument between you two, it's that you're on the side that the dog should be just living his best life at the estate while Sarabi believes the dog should be able to defend you both in case of an intruder.

My man's like "But we live in a lavish house that could be easily targeted to be robbed, the dog should be able to help me defend this home."

[judgmentjay]

𝖇𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍𝖇𝖑𝖆𝖉𝖊…🔪🩸

                                . . . . . . . . . 〈 𝖏𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖊 / 𝖏𝖆𝖞 · 𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖑𝖊 · 𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖕𝖆, 𝖋𝖑𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖉𝖆 〉

…did you forget? allow me to reintroduce myself: the switchblade. king switch. the last rock n rolla. the man who single-handedly sold-out msg. first and true grand slam champion. the real belt collector. the catalyst. #1 asset of professional wrestling. the best bullet club leader of all time. bang bang gang! bullet club gold . . . . just to name a few.

born in new zealand on october 9, 1992, to dutch and new zealand parents, jamie white, also known as jay, is a professional wrestler working for aew after a lengthy career in njpw. as the self-described best leader of bullet club, he brought it to the states where he heads bullet club gold in aew.

though nothing short of a walking disaster, jay lives his life on his own terms. at his worst, he’s arrogant, headstrong, stubborn, callus, vindictive, jealous, possessive, and confrontational. at his best, he’s the life of the party; a jokester, adventurous, outgoing, loud, often vulgar, romantic, friendly and empathetic.

divorced from a years-long tumultuous relationship in early 2023, jay is taking some time out to heal and work on himself. he still goes on dates but wouldn’t say he’s actively searching or desiring any sort of committed relationship at the moment. “if it happens, it happens.” he resides near tampa, fl on a small homestead full of animals.

in his free time, you can catch him doing yard work, engrossed in some sort of fixer upper project, reading / learning a new skill or just tending to his animals or gardens.

open to plots. ships are based on chemistry only. based in est timezone but i’m busy working uni student with a shit schedule. discord upon request, but be forewarned i rarely use it. dms are best. more headcanons under the cut.

+ the concept of trust is pretty hard for him to get his head around since it feels really foreign, so he doesn’t truly trust many people. he’s got about four people in his life who he feels really know him.

+ his sexuality is all over the place, but he sees himself as fluid and straight-leaning, even though he’s hooked up with and had feelings for men in the past.

+ his divorce was heavily influenced by his years away from the us in japan and his own infidelity. he definitely dated and hooked up a lot while he was over there, even though he had a wife he didn’t mention.

+ he’s at a point in life where he could see himself finally settling down, but he doesn’t say anything out of fear of jinxing it. he craves the intimacy of romance but is truly bloody terrified of it at the same time.

+ he lives on a farmstead with a bunch of animals, including goats, sheep, chickens, geese, ducks, a couple of cats, and a dog. despite him saying otherwise, it's always getting bigger.

+ has a year round garden, growing his own vegetables and flowers. it’s a new project he is working on, but he’s doing his best.

+ he’s definitely a do-it-yourself kind of guy, always engrossed in some fixer-upper project on his farm. whether it’s repairing an old tractor, working on fences, or improving his animals’ enclosures and garden, he rarely isn’t busy.

+ he can’t stand being bored and often takes himself and his dog, hulk on road trips to visit different states when he has free time. his favourite spots are those hidden gems in nature.

connections:

@hdbnger : best friend and platonic soulmate. riley’s seen him at his worst and his best. never judged him, just let him be himself and supported him through his rights and wrongs. jamie would do anything for him. they’re the type of friends who don’t let life or careers get in the way, despite distance. they always pick up right where they left off. in his life he’s never known what he was doing or going, but jamie always has known that no matter what, he will never be too far from riley. he’s his chosen and close family.

@rebelsovereign : since 2013, they’ve had a friendly, yet not-so-friendly wrestling rivalry. one of his first true friends in the uk and wrestling in general. they were thick as thieves, albeit begrudgingly. their friendship thrives on insults, bickering, with jamie mostly teasing him for being a huge nerd. had a quiet crush on him for years, but the timing was never right. their bond is rooted in effortless banter, late-night talks, and a quiet understanding that feels as if they’ve known each other across lifetimes. jamie famously said it would “never be over until he’s in the ground” before leaving japan, referencing their long-time rivalry, but those words carry a very different meaning now.

@poppindawgs : met when jamie was a young lion sometime in 2015. someone he trusted with his life. they had a flirtationship that eventually led to more, but it ended abruptly when greg started seeing someone else. kind of. long story. while jamie doesn’t hate him, he just doesn’t let him have space in his life anymore. greg left a mark on him. a break that shifted his perspective. the experience didn’t make him less cautious. it reinforced his existing reluctance and made him more aware of the fleeting nature of time. sad that greg never gave them a real chance, but also grateful for the lessons learned. jamie blocked his number and doesn’t speak to him willingly anymore.

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from The New Yorker:

We pulled off the two-lane highway and onto a short farm road, and then got out at an access gate along a wire fence that enclosed an eleven-acre field of solar panels. The reason we were there is that three years ago, when Encore Renewable Energy—a Burlington-based developer of solar arrays—set up the panels, it contracted with a nonprofit that the Kiernans started, called Bee the Change, to seed pollinator-attracting plants that are native to the area in the rows between them. The organization’s small crew tends more than twenty fields like this across the state, weeding and, at least once a year, mowing what they have planted so that it doesn’t grow so high it shades the panels. Most of the attention to “agrivoltaics”—use of one piece of land for both farming and for producing solar energy—has gone to more common agricultural practices, such as letting sheep graze between the panels. But at least fifteen states, including big players like Illinois, maintain solar-pollinator scorecards, which are used as accountability measures in the solar-development community. The theory is that we face two crises—climate change and the rapid loss of biodiversity—and that the same patch of land might be used to address them both.

The approach seems to be working. When the Kiernans are hired by a solar developer, it’s usually to plant on what was until recently a farm field; “the farmer has decided to take a dozen acres” and lease them to solar companies “to get a guaranteed income,” Mike said. Because the fields are typically monoculture and have been treated with pesticides for years, “the pollinator density is really low.” Mike uses a pollinator-counting method that involves walking on the margin of a field and counting unique pollinators for seven and a half minutes. Then a random-number generator tells him which row of solar panels to walk along, and as he walks he counts the pollinators he sees in seven and a half minutes, then adds the two numbers together. “On those abandoned farm fields, we might get a count of forty or fifty in fifteen minutes,” Mike said. “But now, once we’ve done our thing, you can see ten at a glance. You can see three hundred in fifteen minutes. You see a lot of them even this late in summer, during what we call a ‘dearth period.’ Wait till next month, when the asters come in!”

As the nonprofit’s name implies, their first tools were honeybees; they installed hives in solar fields. But, the more they learned about biodiversity, the more they wondered whether this strategy was actually the best for the environment. Honeybees are domesticated and are so persistent and numerous—more than thirty thousand can live in one hive—that, in Mike’s words, they “can put too much harvesting pressure” on the plants. There may not be enough nectar left behind for all the wild pollinators, a complication that spells peril not just for them but for the plants they’re particularly adapted to. “There are more than three hundred and fifty native bee species in Vermont,” Tawnya said. So they stopped placing hives and started installing native plants that attract wild bees.

“In New England, you’re often looking at five-megawatt projects, which means maybe twenty-five acres,” Farrell told me when we spoke by phone earlier this month. “We’re at four or five per cent of our electricity coming from solar now in this country. In order to hit the President’s target of forty-five per cent of our electricity by 2050, we have to grow. And that means we have to deliver the most visually appealing, environmentally responsible projects possible.” In 2020, his company pledged to build all their projects with some form of agrivoltaics. In many cases, that’s sheep grazing. “Not goats,” he said. “Goats will try to eat the wires between the panels, and also to jump up on the panels, which is not good for either one.” Sheep, though, appreciate the shade that the panels provide and are “some of the best asset managers we have in the business, mowing the grass for us. They do their job exceptionally well, and all they want is forage and water, which we can give them.”

Pollinators are even easier animals, though—once the plants have established themselves, they don’t need more than an occasional mow. “We think solar is a good neighbor,” Farrell said. “It’s clean, it’s quiet, and if it increases pollinators it’s helping the whole community.” And so—at a moment when new fossil-fuel-funded schemes are reportedly spreading disinformation about renewable-energy programs—“it can help reduce the friction. It can lower the hurdles to get over, which of course translates into dollars and cents.”

[paperandsong]

Le Lupeux

From Légendes rustiques, illustrated by Maurice Sand, written by George Sand, 1858

Original French at Project Gutenberg

English translation:

Charli often heard him when he came back from breaking stones on the road. ‘Yes,’ he said to his wife on his way home, ‘he was still following me, even this evening, all along the hedgerows, howling at the moon; but I told him myself; howl as long as you want, you won't make me turn my head just to see you.’

Maurice Sand

The author of Marvellous Normandy, who we like to quote, talks about revenant beasts (that's what they are called in Berry) and in particular about the dog of Monthulé, who appeared to the inhabitants of the Sainte-Croix-sur-Aizier Commune. Although he did no harm to anyone, he never allowed himself to be touched or even approached.  He stuck to tormenting younger dogs to the extent that none could be raised in the area. Norman legend says that this dog had belonged to a mysterious traveller, and that he had been killed by the owner of the Monthulé farm. His master looked for him everywhere and eventually came to the farm, where he was told that the animal had come to die a tragic and unexplained death. “If you are not telling the truth,” said the traveller to the farmer, “I’ll know it!” And then he disappeared.

From that moment onwards, the dog became a ghost that tormented his murderers. The author adds: “Notice that in this tale a new belief is formed; animals have souls, and similar to human beings, they have the ability to come back from the dead.”

We have seen the same belief in our province. An old woman from our village lost a sheep, a black ewe, which she suspected a wicked neighbour of having killed by poison or a curse. The poor animal was skinned and buried, the good woman asleep, when suddenly she was woken by the sound of her goat bleating and scrabbling about in the stable, as if it were struggling against some extraordinary thing. She got up and, opening her door, saw her black sheep trying to enter the stable where it was accustomed to being with the goat. The good woman, frightened, went back inside and barricaded herself in; but the goat’s torment continued. The woman took courage and went back to see what was happening. This happened three times. Three times she saw her sheep trying to enter, and the goat coming up to the stable’s fence to call out and nuzzle it. But it was only a shadow; the old woman could not catch it, and when the stable door was opened, the goat went out searching, bleating, and then went back in, as if it too had realised it was just an illusion.

I heard the story of a magpie that had belonged to Grand’Gothe, one of the finest witches in the area. This magpie had learned to speak and all the gossip and slander she heard her mistress saying, she repeated to passers-by as an insult. Eventually, the young people got so fed up of hearing their little secrets revealed by this wicked animal that they wrung its neck. Grand’Gothe predicted that the young people would one day be sorry, and then she herself died soon afterwards.

No one mourned the death of Grand’Gothe; not even her older brother, Father Grand-Jean, who was not a bad man but so bedridden in his old age that no one saw him anymore and he was all but forgotten by everyone. The two old people and the magpie died in the same fortnight.

Now, Father Grand-Jean fulfilled until his death, as best he could, the functions of sacristan, which, in a parish suppressed since the Revolution, were limited to keeping the church keys at home and ringing the Angelus three times a day. This was in no way obligatory; but the inhabitants, being accustomed to hearing the sound of their bell, which was for them a sort of clock, would have found it wrong if the sacristan had dispensed with the practice. And, as he was too broken and often too ill, his sister, Grand’Gothe, who remained lively and vigorous until her last day, rang the Angelus in his place when he could not get out of bed. It is said that she was so impious that while shaking the old bell, she trash-talked and even made a thousand piles of filth in the church, where no one dared follow her.

To the point that, in just the few weeks between the death of the old sacristan and the appointment of his successor, the bell rang of its own accord not three times a day, but every evening after sunset, without anyone being seen entering the church. Only the old magpie was seen flying into the bell tower and, though it was doubted that it was the same one which had been killed and thrown on the dunghill by the village youth, its hoarse little voice was heard beginning again to tell everyone’s secrets and to insult men and women, young and old, without any respect or consideration. And many things were learned from it which amused some and angered others. The worst thing was that no one knew how to get rid of the wicked soul of this magpie, for there was no point in thinking of having Mass said for it. This went on until the new sacristan took possession of the church and, as he was a good Christian, who prayed firmly and rang the bell hard, the evil spirit disappeared and the bell obeyed only the one who had the authority to ring it.

Naturally, the memory of this fantastic and slanderous magpie awakens in us thoughts of the lupeux, which should not be confused with the lupine, nor with the lubin, nor with other varieties of werewolf. The lupeux is a demon whose nature has never been well defined and whose appearance varies depending on the area. It still resides in the countryside of Brenne, in those interminable plains strewn with immense ponds which all have their legends and where the large fever-giving serpents live, first cousins ​​of the cocadrilles which one sees when the waters are low, but which one can only destroy by drying out the marshes where they have lived since the world became the world.

One of our friends, who was travelling through the country with a guide, heard one evening in the twilight a very soft voice, almost human, which repeated in a cheerful or rather mocking tone, from place to place, all around him: Ah! ah! He looked on all sides, saw nothing and said to his travelling companion: Look here, someone is very surprised; is it because of us?

The guide made no reply. They continued to walk across the deserted plain, where headless trees, that is to say, mutilated trees whose tops had been lopped off, took on the most monstrous and bizarre forms on the horizon, whitened by the moonrise. The little voice, clear and sweet, followed our travellers and, at every surprise move that our friend made, it repeated Ah! ah! in such a mocking and cheerful manner that he could not help laughing as he answered: “Well, what then?”

“Shut up, for the love of God,” said his guide, squeezing his arm and crossing himself for protection. “Don't talk to him, don’t even let on that you hear him. If you answer him again, we are lost!”

Our friend, who understands the ideas of peasants very well, did not persist, and when they had worn out the invisible sneer with their silence: 

“Ah, that,” he said to his guide, “Is it a night bird, a kind of owl?” 

“Ah, yes!” replied the other, “A beautiful bird! It’s the lupeux! It begins by joking with you, it laughs, it pulls you off your path, it carries you off, and then it gets angry, and it kills you in some quagmire.”

Such is, in fact, the specialty of the lupeux, a demon as witty as he is wicked, who has sometimes been seen perched in a twisted tree, just as he himself is twisted, that is to say, crossways, that is to say, perverse and amorous from birth.

People imprudent enough to follow him and listen have come to a bad end. There is no sort of pleasant story, no wicked remark, no kind of gossip, bloody or comical, that he does not use to regale you once you have been curious enough to ask him up to three times: What then? or What is it? He then begins to babble like an old lady (or a magpie), he regales you with strange and scandalous adventures, he promises to surprise you with romantic rendezvous that interest your natural malice or your marital jealousy. Once in his clutches, one never tires of listening to him and asking him questions. He leads you to the edge of deceptive waters and says to you: Look! You lean towards this fantastic mirror where the images that trouble your imagination appear to you; but the perfidious creature pushes you, and when death embraces you with its icy arms, you hear the lupeux, perched on a branch high above the water, say in his pretty, villainous voice: Ah! ah! Well, it is what it is!

In the canton of La Châtre, it is not only the animals that come back, it is also the furniture. At the time when the castle of Briantes was still inhabited, scenes from the other world took place there. A certain peasant régisseur (manager), who wanted to delve deeper into these mysteries, and who went there with a strong spirit, had to give up. There was, in the highest room, an oubliette from which came terrible clamouring at night; animal cries, human plaints, and great gusts of wind that extinguished all the lights. These were the souls of the people and animals who had been massacred in the area by pillaging Huguenots and merciless reiters (roaming cavalrymen). But there is more, the furniture having been broken, thrown out of the windows and everything ransacked in this time of calamity, one also heard cracking and the shattering of invisible objects which seemed to roll towards you along the stairs and threaten to crush you.

The aforementioned régisseur, having braved these extraordinary occurrences for some time without being harmed, believed he was done with it; but one evening, when he was coming home from the fair and coming into the castle’s kitchen to rest and warm himself, the chair on which he intended to sit turned against him, with its feet in the air, and while he was looking for a more willing one, all the chairs and benches in that kitchen rushed at him and beat him so badly that he had to give up and flee; all the more so since the rolling pins and meat cleavers joined in and chased him into the middle of the courtyard.

From which one had to logically conclude that inanimate things have the right to complain and cry out in their own way, just like souls in pain, and that one should not make fun of them any more than they do other ghosts.

George SAND

[rambosgirl]

🦉Positivity owl reporting for duty! This was sent by a friend who wants you to smile as much as your posts make them smile. Please list five things that make you unique, four things you are super passionate about and why, OR three of your favorite memories. Feel free to send the owl to those who you feel deserve to smile🦉

Awww I love this!

Five things that make me unique:

I'm very musical! I play the flute, piano, violin, ukulele, and sing.

I'm in college studying a combination of degrees, Animal Science and Psychology

I got married young (barely 20) and I'm loving every minute! (I also want a bunch of kids but pregnancy scares me so we're not gonna for a while) (Specifically I want a bunch of boys and a few girls cause I think it would be ADORABLE to have all the boys be so protective of their sister(s))

I'm such a girly girl. Ball gowns, makeup, frolicking through a meadow, all of it. I also have a tiara collection that takes up MUCH of my closet.

This is kinda weird but like... I get my period every 3 months instead of the usual 1. It's ver interesting in a 'idk what my body is doing - ever' kind of way

Four things I'm super passionate about:

Horse training!! It's what I want to do for my career, and I just feel so alive when I do it. I love building connections and friendships without saying a word, it just feels magical in a way

My family. I come from a family of 7, and we're super close. I have a special connection to all my siblings and parents (who did/are doing an amazing job), I just love them all so much. I know good families are something not everybody has, and that really makes my heart ache for anyone who doesn't have this (If this is you, know that family is something you can build with your friends and that you aren't alone, and I love you)

Going along with the horse training, my dream is to have a family farm where I can run my horse training business but ALSO raise my kids and be at least a little self-sufficient. (you never know when the zombie apocalypse is gonna happen XD) I want horses, cows, and chickens, and I've recently been thinking about goats too... Oh, and I want a big garden and orchard! I love fruits and berries, so lots of those. And flowers too

My religion! I feel like it allows me to be the best version of myself I can be, and the people are so nice :)

Three favorite memories:

My wedding day. It was rough, nothing went as planned bc of the rain we had to switch indoors (I dreamed of getting married at my aunt's ranch for my entire childhood and it didn't happen) we had close to no decorations bc they were at the ranch, just UGH! BUT! The people who came to my wedding were the best, they helped decorate, my dentist actually became the DJ, and I ended up having so much fun with my friends and family. Not to mention, I married my BFF, and now we have a sleepover every night (yay!)

I don't remember much of my childhood, BUT I love every memory I have of playing Barbies with my sisters. We always had the most unhinged plotlines to our games but there was always serious TEA. Looking back it was a fever dream but one I would love to go back to.

Any memory of my old project horses. I built special connections with them, and I love them so much. Especially with this one spicy Appaloosa mare, I would be working with her alone, she was SO wound up, mean, fearful, just everything. But I kept at it and got her to a place where she wasn't afraid anymore, and spending time with her became so peaceful I can't even put it into words. She still had her spicy personality, but to be honest I would not change that about her even if I could. She wouldn't be herself without it. It felt like we were in our own little world. And while I taught her a lot, I feel like she probably taught me so much more (I'm crying rn btw)

Dang, I needed this, thank you so much anon!! ;-;

[blogger360ncislarules]

The residents of Britain’s Yorkshire Dales are feeling the ramifications of World War II as Season 4 of All Creatures Great and Small picks up in 1940. The enchanting PBS series, based on the popular books by James Herriot, begins its new season with rural veterinarian James and his wife Helen (Nicholas Ralph and Rachel Shenton, above) a year into their marriage, wondering if the time is right to start a family, aware that any day he could be called to duty.

“In some ways, it feels like the exact reason why they should have a child,” says Shenton. “And in some ways, it’s the exact reason why they shouldn’t.”

For the actress, this new season is also the chance to show another side to her usually poised character, who moved away from the family farm after her wedding last season to take up residence at Skeldale House, where her husband lives and works.

“I think we see something different from Helen,” Shenton muses. “She’s good at being there for other people, and I think this is the first time that she’s needed a bit of help and had to say, ‘Actually, I’m not OK.’”

Like the rest of the Skeldale gang, Helen misses Tristan, who was called up to the Royal Army Veterinary Corps the previous Christmas. (His portrayer, Callum Woodhouse, doesn’t appear in this season’s seven episodes.) That leaves Tristan’s irascible brother Siegfried (Samuel West) and James overwhelmed at their practice and having to train book-smart student vet Richard Carmody (James Anthony-Rose), whose barn-side manner leaves something to be desired.

Siegfried also takes on an administrator, Miss Harbottle (Neve McIntosh), to try to get the practice in tip-top shape. She’s everything her name suggests. “What I quite like about that particular character and dynamic is that it breaks the house and unites the house,” Shenton previews.

As for the critters, a ferret with a lump, a lethargic tortoise, and a gas-passing dog all have appointments at Skeldale, where a couple of goats get Siegfried’s goat. Fortunately, for the actors they were pros. “They train the goats with food and sound,” Shenton explains. “There were these really loud horns, and then a shake of a food [container], and the goats would know to go to the next bit of their blocking.”

Another pro was a cute gray tabby named Humbug, who plays Oscar, a cat that shows up in the second half of the season and wins Helen’s heart. “He’s worked on sets since he was a very little kitten, so he’s used to being around people and he’s confident,” Shenton says. “He was super good and affectionate.”

One four-legged cast member missed some days because he needed a real veterinarian. Derek, the fluffy Pekingese furball who plays pampered pooch Tricki, had a health issue and this season split the role with a dog named Dora until he was able to return. (According to the folks at PBS, “Derek continues to be the ultimate professional and settled straight back into the business of filming.”)

In quieter moments, the friendship between Helen and housekeeper Mrs. Hall (Anna Madeley), who wants to divorce her absent husband, deepens. (Helen is still the only one at Skeldale House who addresses her by her first name, Audrey.) “That was probably one of my favorite strands,” Shenton says. “Anna and I are great friends off-camera, so it was really nice to have scenes with her.”

Madeley and Shenton also performed together on another project, a podcast drama called Gladstone Girls that Shenton wrote about pottery makers in the north of England fighting to be able to wear hair curlers to work on Fridays. The multitalented Shenton and her husband, Chris Overton, are already Academy Award winners for best live action short film, for The Silent Child in 2018.

As for the future of All Creatures, producers have yet to confirm whether there will be a fifth season but Shenton is hopeful. On a show where emotions are understated yet still deeply felt, she appreciates how truthful the series is to the time period and that part of the country.

“These are farmers. Nobody had time to be super emotional, you had to get on with it,” she says. “Often what’s nice is the things that aren’t being said. Your heart breaks sometimes because [characters] either can’t find the words or just don’t need to. They know it, you can feel it, and that’s always lovely.”

[whimsy-of-the-stars]

whimsy-of-the-stars: a writeblr (re) intro

hi there! this post is here because I can't edit the old one on desktop bc I reblogged it! :( Anyway i’m whimsy-of-the-stars! the only name i really go by is my actual one, but i’m hesitant to share it online. some info about me:

relatively new to tumblr

currently in high school

i aspire to be an author, as well as a poet and musician

I enjoy cartoons, comics, fiction podcasts and novels

Currently, I'm foraying into the world of itch.io, so you might see me working on Twine games or ttrpgs too!

Learning languages is fun! my main focus right now is Spanish!

I’m in the LGBTQIAP+ community

I like to read (YA): fantasy, sci-fi, fluffy romance, some mysteries

I like to write (YA): fantasy, sci-fi, fluffy romance, superhero

oh and I kinda have an original poetry tag within my posts! It’s “whimsy of the poetry” lol. there you’ll find my 1 (one) poem posted so far!

I’m really bad at coming up with names so most of my projects are untitled. now onto mini WIP intros!!!

unnamed apocalypse story

status: roughly halfway thru the first draft

genre: uhh queer apocalyptic mg/ya

this one is new-ish! ok, not really. It's from April 2023 Camp Nano, and I never finished it. I'm hoping to resume writing soon, probably for July Camp Nano. I'll make a WIP intro soon!! | SWEAR! (casually has never made one before)

Anyway, it centers around a bunch of teens who get lost in the huge forest right before the plant-centered apocalypse hits. They have to survive in unfamiliar woods as this freakishly fast-growing plant continues to creep closer and closer, releasing dangerous pollen; not to mention they've gotta get along with each other. featured in this wip are: silly diary entries, hand-drawn maps, new friends, and questionable poetry!

The Quest for Calamint (a Twine game)

status: jam version (aka simpler, more bare-bones version) available now here! better, cooler version coming in or after July, probably, along with full intro post!

genre: Wholesome fantasy interactive fiction :)

Go on a quest to get your best friend, a little goat named Calamint, back from the faeries who stole him and the rest of the dairy animals on your family's farm. Navigate the forest, talk to the right faeries, and solve the ex-queen's puzzle to get him back!

Side Projects

currently, I'm slowly working on a few small tabletop roleplaying games!! There's one about wizard girls, one about a seaside vacation where you become a delivery kid, and one about summoning a ghost with your friends! however I’m also thinking about a bunch of other things as well for the One Page RPG Jam of 2023 hosted on itch!

[kitsune024]

Marvel Cinematic Universe & The Avengers Fanfiction

Loptr Farm by Oceanbreeze7

Where Loki decides that the best place to stay hidden in all the realms, is right in the dead smack middle of Iowa.

He didn't mean to adopt a dog, or two, or four...Or a goat, a cat, a horse- wait, is that a lion?

Or:

Where Loki hides out on a farm and accidentally makes it an animal rehabilitation service and home for wayward or abused creatures. And of course, Clint's dog runs away from his farm and ends up in the middle of it all.

Chapters: 2/2

[rival-the-rose]

I have so many completely perfect days with K it feels unreal, like it's not actually possible to be this happy, and while I'm having them I so frequently compose a post in my head (because this is the sort of thing that drives a man to poetry but I don't do that so here's something even worse), and I never post them thank God but unfortunately here's this one:

It's thirteen degrees outside, a temperature that the temperate rainforest doesn't achieve very often, and my parents are out of town so we're taking care of the farm for them. I've just gotten back into bed after getting up before dawn to break the ice in the stock tanks that's formed since we last went out at midnight. K was still asleep so I went through the house with no lights on, kindled a fire from last night's carefully banked coals, wrapped up warm to go check on the animals. Everything was silent, the trees iced over and several inches of snow smoothing out our footprints from yesterday, the smoke billowing from the chimney as the new fire burned hot and excited. The goats were sleeping in big warm dry huddles but were excited to drink fresh water. I brought in a fresh armload of wood with the help of a few cats and built the fire up a little more to burn while I sleep for a few more hours. The whole time my mind is filled with thoughts of yesterday - walks in the snow, cooking good food, watching bad movies, getting incredibly high and fucking for hours and hours. And the whole time I felt like yesterday was impossibly perfect, and yet I was facing another day that's shaping up to be the same way. She'll get up and make an incredible breakfast in an hour or two and tell me stories of her childhood in Minnesota where there's REAL snow not this west coast bullshit and hold me and kiss me and make me laugh and I'll massage her sore neck so she can do her best at her hockey game tonight and make hot chocolate and teach her about winter identification or work on our knitting projects or we'll just hold each other and talk about how stupid it is that we're so damn happy. And I can't wait.

[brarb-does-stuff]

WIP Wednesday

There are quite a few WIPs this week.

The wool from Christmas has been spun and will be plied today. The fiber wasn't the best for spinning, lots of nepps that I didn't have the patience to pick out – and combined with me still learning how to do long draw, this will probably make a more, ahem, 'rustic' yarn.

This sweater. I started it last year on December 31st, then it spent the majority of 2023 on sleeve island. Picked it up again this winter with the intention to finish it this year - we'll see how that goes. (It would probably go better if I didn't keep starting other projects...)

Other projects under the cut.

This was going to be a Christmas hat, but then I got distracted by wool (see above), so now it will just be a regular winter hat.

Pattern is the Crochet Winterberry Hat by Daisy Farm Crafts.

Like the hat, a case of me adopting the yarn leftovers from my mom's sweater projects. This I got sick just in time for Christmas, so I needed something mindless that didn't require me to think or count (or, ideally, look at the stitches). Maybe brioche wasn't the best choice for that... but hey, at least my dad will (eventually) get a scarf to go with his sweater out of it.

And finally, the start of what will eventually become a tiny Gävle goat. (Hopefully before the real one is completely eaten by birds.)