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peterjakes · 9 months

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Thomas x Richard - 'they won't flower like they did last spring'

Thomas' letter is still missing. Hoping to find out who took it, he goes on a mission, interrogating the staff at Downton but has some self-realisations instead.

it's been a long time since I've updated but just haven't had any inspiration!

I'm not sure about this chapter but thought I'd post anyway.

thanks as ever for reading x

also posted on ao3; https://archiveofourown.org/works/42969186/chapters/123969625#workskin

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. How could it have gone? Thomas had only been at breakfast for mere minutes. Yes, he was the last to arrive. But everyone else was already waiting for him; how could someone have taken it? No, no. Thomas couldn’t start blaming other people. He may have just misplaced it. Yes, that’s what had happened. Checking his surroundings, Thomas quickly searched through the desk drawers. Nothing. Perhaps he’d dropped it? Maybe on his way out of the pantry and along to breakfast? Retracing his steps, Thomas made sure to be quiet so he wouldn’t stir anyone at breakfast. But it was no use, the letter was nowhere to be found. Shit.

“Mr Barrow, is everything all right?” Mrs Hughes had suddenly appeared, a curious look surrounding her face. Thomas realised how strange he probably looked in this moment. Luckily, he had just stopped crouching by the ground, searching for the letter and had moved back towards the pantry.

“Perfectly fine, Mrs Hughes.” Thomas answered the woman rather abruptly, realising this too could cause Mrs Hughes to wonder more than he wanted her too. “Thank you.” A forced smile appeared from Thomas’ lips which didn’t seem to help Mrs Hughes seem any less suspicious.

“Lady Mary’s called; the others won’t be long now.” Mrs Hughes face was blank, as if she hadn’t realised how flustered Thomas looked in that moment.

“Of course, Mrs Hughes.”

Breakfast was a pretty boring affair. Lord Grantham spent most of the morning reading through his paper, whilst Lady Mary spouted on about a trip her husband was still on. It was funny, Mr Talbot seemed to spend more time away from Downton than he did at the house. Lady Grantham didn’t make an appearance for breakfast, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. It was funny, really. The only participants were Lady Mary and Lord Grantham. Master George and Miss Caroline were still too young to eat breakfast with their family, but Thomas could really see how empty the table looked on that morning. There was a time when it was almost filled to the brim. Mr Branson was now married living at Brampton. with his wife and Miss Sybbie. Lady Rose had lived in America for almost five years now. Lady Edith, or, the Marchioness of Hexam, was at Brancaster with her family. Mr Matthew and Lady Sybil were long gone. The Dowager, she was gone too. Downton almost seemed empty.

It was strange, really. How much had changed since Thomas had been at Downton. Of course, it was coming up to 20 years, which wasn’t something Thomas really wanted to think about. He didn’t think he’d make it past two. Carson didn’t taken to Thomas very well, though he must have hired him for a reason. But those first few years were hard. It wasn’t until Thomas became first footman that things started to look up. He had a bit more power, a bit more freedom, which thinking now, maybe that wasn’t such a good thing.

It wasn’t until after luncheon did Thomas find the time to go to the village to deliver his letter. Lord Grantham had gone for a walk, Lady Mary had taken Master George and Miss Caroline to visit Mrs Crawley, whilst Lady Grantham had a meeting at the hospital. Finding time for himself was trickier as Butler, but he supposed that came with the job.

“Andy? Shall we go?”

“’Course, Mr Barrow. I’ll just tell Daisy.”

“Course.” Thomas couldn’t help but smile to himself. The two of them seemed happy, happier than Daisy had been in a long time. It was odd to think that she was sweet on him so long ago. In a way, Thomas had regretted being so cruel to William. It was futile now, Thomas knew that. But using Daisy, tormenting William and being so angry with Mr Bates, Thomas wondered, what was the point? He wasted so much time, time when things could have been different. But there was no point now. He couldn’t change the past, even if he wanted to.

The two men made their way towards the village, talking idly about what they’d read in the newspaper, heard on the radio or in the drawing room.

“Oh, I forgot to ask,” Andy started speaking, as they wandered past Crawley House “Who was that letter from?”

Oh, of course Andy had noticed, not that it should have mattered, unless he had taken it, of course. It was true that Thomas didn’t receive many letters, at least not regularly. He had some friends up in London, but he hadn’t had the time to write to them recently. He didn’t speak to his family very often but was glad of it if he was honest. Thinking of that, Thomas did seem a little lonely, but he wasn’t alone, that was different. Or maybe it was the other way around. “Just a friend.”

“A friend?” Andy’s head turned to face Thomas and a small smile appeared, eagerly waiting for Thomas to explain himself. Thomas wasn’t going to let Andy catch him out, no matter how much he tried.

“Yes, Andy. A friend. Just because Mr Carson didn’t have any, doesn’t mean I can’t.” Thomas knew Andy would laugh at that, and Thomas liked to find any reason to take a swipe at his predecessor.

“Aren’t we friends?”

“I suppose so.” Thomas realised how interested Andy seemed in his letter, which most likely meant he had no real idea what it contained. Or maybe he was just double-bluffing. Regardless of that, Thomas didn’t think it the best idea to interrogate Andy. Any time Andy was in the slightest mood, it made serving dinner hell, and Thomas was far too tired to deal with that. If it did come to it, Thomas would just have to ask, but he hoped it wouldn’t.

“Well-“

Before Andy could ask any more questions, Thomas changed the subject, something he had become quite skilled at in his old age. “And what about you? How’s the farm coming along?”

“It’s fine…just…fine.” Andy’s face fell as soon as Thomas mentioned the farm, which was a tad surprising. From what Thomas had heard from Daisy, living at Mr Mason’s farm was far superior to being stuck at Downton. But appearances could be deceptive, as Thomas knew.

“But?”

“Taking over…it’s a lot.”

“But it’s what you want? Both of you?”

“Of course, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard.”

“Sometimes the hardest thing, is the best thing.” Speaking from experience, which Thomas had quite a lot of, doing the hardest thing was not enjoyable, but that didn’t it was right. If Thomas was completely honest, he didn’t care too much about whether Andy was enjoying the farm or not. He was in a better position than most. But then again, Andy was Thomas’ friend, so pretending to care about the farm for a moment or so wouldn’t do too much harm. And regardless of how he felt, Thomas knew he was good at giving advice. It was a shame really, that he couldn’t follow his own.

“Oh, very wise, Mr Barrow.” Andy raised his eyebrows as he opened the door to the post office. It wasn’t particularly busy, only a few people stood in the queue waiting. Thomas knew they’d be in and out in a flash, meaning his letter would start it’s journey to Richard. This thought made Thomas uneasy. He wasn’t completely sure why that was exactly. The thought that Richard would receive a reply from Thomas, that meant something. But Thomas couldn’t ignore his letter, and didn’t want to. He didn’t know if he would receive a reply, or if he even wanted to write again. But Thomas had to do this, for his own sake.

“I like to think so.” Thomas smirked, putting his hand in his coat pocket to find his letter. Gripping it tightly, he moved into the queue, watching as Andy mused over the notices. “Has Daisy said anything?”

“No, no. I know she wants to hurry everything along but…”

“I understand.” Thomas nodded. That seemed to end the conversation there, Thomas didn’t quite understand why Andy was so reluctant about the farm. The two were married, Mr Mason had moved out himself, it just seemed the next natural step. But then again, Thomas realised it was really none of his business.

It was only later in the afternoon, not long before it was time for dinner, did Thomas remember he needed to find that letter. And more importantly perhaps, who took it. He wasn’t going to accuse anyone, that wouldn’t do any good. But there was no harm in trying, to at least ask a few questions without arousing too much suspicion. He’d had no hope with Andy, but he hadn��t really tired. The rest of the day’s work had occupied Thomas, but he a bit of free time, so knew he may as well make use of it.

After finishing his routine afternoon smoke in the courtyard, he made his way towards the kitchen. There wasn’t any real purpose for this, Thomas had just found himself there.

Huffing and puffing, Daisy was slicing the peeled potatoes so quickly, Thomas was surprised she hadn’t cut her fingers off yet. But then again, she had been doing it for a long time. Thomas wondered whether the noises escaping from Daisy was intentional, trying to get a reaction from someone or attention. Thomas thought he might as well bite.

“Daisy?” As if Daisy was expecting Thomas to speak, she looked up, her fingers still tightly wrapped around the knife. His eyes gestured towards the potatoes, that all seemed a little ragged, as if they’ve been involved in a fight. She watched Thomas for a moment, frowning, before speaking up.

“I think…Mrs Patmore’s thinking of moving on.” Thomas frowned as she said those words. Moving on made it seem as if Mrs Patmore’s ghost would no longer haunt the kitchens. Which was a stupid thought to have considering Mrs Patmore was very much alive.

“What?”

“Leavin’. Downton, I mean.” Oh, yes, that moving on. Obviously.

Thomas nodded, “It’s not a surprise. She’s been here a long while. Seems that everyone we knew when we started has gone.” It was true. William. Rose. Ethel. Miss O’Brien. Alfred. Jimmy. Molesley. Gwen. So many people had left. And yet Thomas was still there, after everything. At one point, possibly even not that long ago, Thomas would have been jealous. There were times when he was so jealous, when he yearned to leave. Maybe there was a part of him that did want to leave. He wasn’t necessarily unhappy at Downton, but he wasn’t sure how happy he could anywhere else. He was contented, which was good enough for the time being. Or at least Thomas had thought. It wasn’t like Thomas hadn’t been wrong before.

“S’pose so.” Daisy frowned, focusing her eyes back onto the finely sliced potatoes. Thomas wasn’t entirely sure what Daisy was getting at. Yes, it was sad, he supposed. Mrs Patmore had been at Downton for as long as Thomas could remember. Thomas had never been one of her favourites, but that wasn’t particularly surprising. He supposed it would be harder for Daisy. Mrs Patmore had been there for her, through almost everything. She had trained her, maybe not in the way Carson trained Thomas, and that meant something. She was there when Daisy arrived. She was there when Daisy had married William. Yearned over Alfred (which was still something Thomas could never understand). And there for her wedding to Andy. Like a real relative. A real parent. Something Thomas had never truly experienced.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, stupid. I don’t want her to go.” Daisy shook her head, as if she was embarrassed to admit that. But Thomas didn’t think that was embarrassing, not at all. Thomas was sure he would feel the same, if he was in Daisy’s position. There was only one departure at Downton where Thomas had been truly sad. He hadn’t thought of him that often, especially recently. But that didn’t mean he didn’t care to think of him. It was easier not to, especially at first. But growing older had changed Thomas.

There had been times when Thomas had allowed his mind to wander, and it would wander to Jimmy. Thomas hoped he was doing well, or as well as he could be. It was unlikely the two would ever meet again. Jimmy had never written to Thomas, but he hadn’t promised to, and Thomas wouldn’t have held him to that anyway. Not now at least. Things were much harder before; Thomas had done some truly foolish things. But looking back now, Thomas could admit he did miss Jimmy at times. Missed having someone to share a cigarette with, someone to give knowing looks to in the drawing room, someone to play cards with, someone who was just his friend and didn’t need to be anything else. But Jimmy was long gone now, living his life, probably not giving one thought to Thomas. And that was how it should be.

“Aren’t you going to go too at some point?”

“Yes.” Daisy frowned and placed the knife on the table. “That’s different.”

“Why?”

“Just is.” Right, well that was useful. Sometimes Thomas did wonder about Daisy. The two of them had both grown and changed whilst being at Downton, but old habits die hard, Thomas supposed.

“Alright, then. I better go-“

“Wait. I..wanted to ask you somethin’.”

“Go on.”

“You remember, years ago, before Andy, before Alfred and Jimmy, before William even…when I was soft on you?”

“I do.”

“And you made me think…or you ‘entertained’ it as Mrs Patmore use to say.” Entertained it? How charming, but not far from the truth actually.

“I remember.”

“You know, I never really understood why. Why you did it…I knew how I felt but…”

“Well, I don’t know if you heard, but I wasn’t very nice.” Thomas gave Daisy an awkward smile. It was true he was ashamed of how he’d acted then. It was stupid, really. Maybe if he could go back, things would have been different. Thomas doubted he and William could have ever been friends, but maybe he could have made peace with him. Maybe that was a regret, one of many Thomas had. As for Daisy… well, that was definitely stupid, but Thomas couldn’t help himself, not then. Thomas knew he was good looking. He knew that Daisy liked him. And he liked the attention. It wasn’t bad attention, in a way, it was quite nice. But no, Mrs Patmore was right. He shouldn’t have ‘entertained’ it.

“You were nice to me.”

Thomas shrugged, “Not for the right reasons.”

“No. Whatever they could be.” Thomas wondered what had brought this on. It was true that Daisy had never mentioned this to Thomas before. He was sure she had confined in Mrs Patmore, maybe Andy but never Thomas. It was an unspoken agreement between the two, one that meant they wouldn’t mention what transpired between them all those years ago. In a way, it made Thomas ashamed. Ashamed that he’d used Daisy, ashamed that he’d taunted William, ashamed he gloated to Mr Bates. But he was still a smug so-and-so.

“You wanted to ask…why?”

“No, not why. I think…I understand why, now.”

Thomas thought for a moment. Oh. “Right.” This wasn’t a surprise to Thomas. Though Daisy never mentioned it, no one downstairs mentioned it, but Thomas knew. Thomas wasn’t sure how he felt about it, a younger version of himself would have felt uneasy. That everyone knew the one thing that made him so vulnerable. But Thomas wasn’t his younger version of himself, whether that was a good thing or not, Thomas wasn’t so sure. He wondered when Daisy found out, who had told her. Did she know during the whole kiss debacle? Or when Thomas had seen no way out? Maybe it was during the Royal visit. Thomas had been such an idiot those few days, had let his feelings get the better of him. But he was happy, really happy, for the first time in a long time. And he didn’t want to let that go, didn’t want to spoil it. What could have happened if Andy hadn’t interrupt Thomas that morning? This was something Thomas had thought of often. Whatever could have happened, it didn’t. Andy interrupted, and whatever he did see, he didn’t mention it to Thomas. Just as Daisy hadn’t before now.

“I’m a married woman now, Mr Barrow.” Daisy chimed, who could clearly see Thomas’ thoughts swirling around.

“Enough said.” Yes, Thomas definitely didn’t need any details. Particularly from Daisy.

“But…it’s odd, isn’t it?

“Is it?”

“Yes, just odd.”

Thomas realised what a waste of his time that conversation had been. Thomas was no closer to finding his letter or finding who had taken it. It was unlikely that it was Daisy had taken his letter, and even if she had, it would most likely be a mistake. But Thomas had wasted a good 20 minutes speaking to her about too much of the past.

It was only a week later when Thomas had received the next letter from Richard, although he wasn’t going to deny there was a hint of happiness when opening the letter, he was worried too. Thomas still hadn’t found his letter, which could only mean one thing. Someone had taken it. Maybe it was an accident. It could have been thrown away, perhaps. But there a little niggling feeling that made Thomas think that wasn’t true. Maybe there wasn’t any malicious intent, but someone had taken the letter. And Thomas wanted to know who, why and to get it back.

This time, Thomas wasn’t going to be so foolish to read the letter so open, so public. That was his first mistake. Only the safety of his room would allow him so privacy. The wait until the end of the day was almost excruciating. Almost.

Dear Mr Barrow,

You can’t know how please I was to hear back from you. As mentioned in my previous letter, I didn’t expect to, so I am grateful.

I’m glad to hear life is treating you well, it’s what you deserve.

I heard a film crew visited Downton not too long ago. I have to say I’m jealous. Spending time with film stars sounds quite special. Although I must say I can’t imagine my house would have dealt with it too well.

A radio at Downton? I bet that’s a real sight, but a treat too. Lord Hessian isn’t the biggest fan of the wireless, but the Housekeeper managed to persuade. Something tells me the two of them know something the rest of us don’t.

I suppose it’s only you that can decide where you’ll end up. I’m guessing it wasn’t a childhood dream of yours to be a Butler. My parents’ thought service was the way to go for me and wanted me to get into a good house. You can imagine their faces when I got a job with the Royal household. Although that wasn’t all it was cracked to be. It seemed both hard work and a game of waiting. In a way, I’m glad to be out of there. The pressure has lessened now with my new job. Lord Hessian is a decent employer, doesn’t care too much for tradition and as long as the job gets done, he’s happy.

I hope your reply means I’ll be hearing from you more often, that would make my day. Though please don’t feel like you need to. It makes me happy to know you’re well and that you don’t hate me, or maybe you’re just good at hiding it. It’s always difficult to scope how someone is feeling through a letter or note.

I shall finish this letter now but hope to hear from you soon.

You dear friend,

Richard.

P.S. Do you still have the pocket watch?

The pocket watch. Why was Richard asking about the stupid pocket watch? Maybe that wasn’t what Thomas should have taken from the letter, but it was a lot of information to process. Richard wanted to continue writing but would only do that with Thomas’ say so. Great. The problem was that Thomas didn’t know how he felt about that. There was a part of him that of course wanted to write to Richard, why wouldn’t he? But that other part of Thomas, the part that had to think logical, knew what was at stake.

Thomas had moved on; he’d been forced to. It wasn’t that he liked it, or even wanted to. But Richard had decided that for him, and Thomas didn’t want to spend any more time wallowing in self-pity, in hating his life. He’d already spent far too much time doing that.

#downton abbey #Thomas barrow #Thomas x richard #Thomas barrow fic #Thomas barrow fanfic #Thomas barrow fanfiction #Downton Abbey fic #Downton Abbey fanfic #Downton Abbey fanfiction #mine #my writing #they won't flower like they did last spring

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sxnyarostova · 8 months

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daisy really doesn't have it easy does she

#daisy robinson #daisy mason #downton abbey #downton abbey fic #jesus christ i've been properly in this fandom for like three days #ffs #amity writes

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lexilucacia · 1 year

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I'm looking for a Downton Abbey fic where Thomas Barrow becomes the nanny but I can't remember much else. there were a few, but they all seem to have gone from AO3

#thomas barrow #nanny thomas barrow #downton abbey #downton abbey fic #fic rec #fic finder #fan fic

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mothmage · 2 years

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FIC SEARCH!! HELP WANTED!! This is a shot in the dark, but I read a Downton Abbey fanfic years ago that was (if I remember right) a collection/series of shorter fics spanning a lot of time - the only one I remember well was towards the end of the series, and Thomas Barrow (I think with Jimmy Kent, but I’m not 100% sure on that) was older (possibly retired), and on holiday at a campground. I remember two scenes specifically: one in which there was a bathing suit competition (I think Thomas competed, and it was funny because the others were all young model types) and another in which someone (maybe also Thomas?) was giving an informal performance at the (bar?campground clubhouse?) in drag with a yellow yarn wig. the series went from Downton times to like the 50s? I don’t remember much else from the series and I could have sworn it was from @flippyspoon ‘s Brightonverse (which I adore) but it’s not. Does anyone have any idea what fic this is? I swear I didn’t dream it up, but I can’t find it anywhere and it’s hard to search for it without much information. I’m about 80% sure I read it on AO3, but I don’t remember when it was posted or last updated. I’ve dug through all my subscriptions, most of the DA tag, and can’t find it, so I’m hoping it hasn’t been deleted.

#downton abbey #thomas barrow #thommy #thomas x jimmy #thomas barrow x jimmy kent #fic search #fic request #how do i tag this so people will see it 😭#downton abbey fic #downton abbey fanfic #downton abbey fanfiction

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shana-rosee · 1 year

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Ao3 first lines

Tagged by @queerofthedagger this was so fun, thanks 🥰

rules: post the first lines of your 10 most recently published AO3 stories. if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

Arthur narrowed his eyes at his husband as he parked the car. “Alright, what are you up to?”

-the Fiddler and the Englishman

In hindsight, Merlin could see how things might have led to this misunderstanding. How someone could, maybe, possibly, be under the insane delusion that Arthur was courting him. Really it was all Arthur's fault.

-everything makes sense when you're with me

Arthur stared at the pine tree wreath on the door with its odd Christmas baubles, unsure what to make of it.

-Don't Slag off Rudolph

Merlin stared down at his brick oven, wondering, not for the first time, if having a fire-based oven had been the right investment for his new business.

-Bread and Magic

(This next one is nsfw in case that’s not your thing)

Arthur throws his head back against the bathroom stall with a guttural moan, thrusting forward into the warm mouth surrounding his cock. He can feel the wiry hairs of Dragoon’s long beard against his balls, rubbing against them just so, and it makes Arthur moan again. It shouldn’t be this good, this hot, but god help him it is.

-So wrong, So Right

Arthur runs into the empty changing room, his skin tight and hot from the absolute embarrassment of what he has just done.

-Oh Give Me All Your Love and Praise

Six months ago, Dr Mithian Nemeth had, for the most part, the perfect life. Great friends and a job she loved. Back then, her biggest problem was explaining to her parents why she and her now ex-fiancé decided to call off the wedding.

-The Doctor

Arthur is skimming over the reports he’ll need to know for tomorrow’s meeting when he hears it. The sad whine of a certain pup at his bedroom door. He then hears her clawing at his door.

-Puppy Dog Eyes (the Puppy Love Remix)

Sybbie looked at the box curiously before staring up at her father, "Da, what is it?"

-A Wireless To Heaven

The cool metal of the crown touching his head felt different. He had worn many crowns, but the weight of a king’s felt different.

-I Carry Your Heart with Me

Tagging: @teachinghimpoetry, @paintedpigeon1, @kickassfu, @burglarhobbit, @archaeologistd, @snapshotmaestro & anyone else who wants to!

#tag game #AO3 lines #my fics #Merllin fics #Downton Abbey fic

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no-one-picked-maris · 7 months

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ficlet, unfinished

AN: ok so

Based on the TV show Downton Abbey, but I got bored with it. But...this is how I got the idea about waking up as another person in a different period of time. I stole that idea for my Tudor England story about Anne Cresacre...invasion of the body snatchers with time travel I guess.

Her hands curled under her cheek against the back of the chair. Why isn’t this a dream? Tears began to well and she wiped them away briskly. It wouldn’t do to cry, she didn’t have the face for it. She steadied her breath, dried her tears, and took in her surroundings. Opulent surroundings, she corrected herself. Large bookshelves were built into the walls filled with books she wasn’t sure were supposed to be read. But a book now would be a comfort so she arose and walked to the closest shelf. The books were fine, with gold stamped titles on their binds.

Youth: A Narrative and Two Other Stories.

The Varieties of Religious Experience.

The Final Problem.

The Hound of the Baskervilles.

The Call of the Wild.

None of these titles called to her. She was not familiar with them and they would provide no comfort. She wasn’t sure she had ever read anything from this early in the twentieth century and was losing hope she’d find anything familiar to read. Logically, it was too early to lose hope, but that had never stopped her before so she saw no reason for it to stop her now.

Her fingers continued to trace along the books, looking for a familiar title. She’d take anything.

The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman. Hamlet.

Master and Commander. If that one had even been published yet.

Persuasion

PERSUASION - Her thoughts screamed. Of course. She had a beautiful pink copy with lilac pages and a silk bookmark at home. And there upon the shelf Persuasion sat. Not for long. A burgundy colored book, gold stamped title and a paisley inside cover. She was nearly all hope and nearly no agony now, with this book in her hand. She chucked to herself, and with that, she returned to the stately chaise lounge. This? She could get used to this, being left alone in a beautiful room with a thousand and one books to read. Perhaps she’d even finish Nana. If it had even been published yet.

***

THE SEASON

Fall 1910

Being who she was, she was still allowed a Season in London. To be honest, the privilege surprised now-Edith. She stood now before a three sided mirror on a small rise, a harried tailor's assistant working at the hem of her new dress. One of her new dresses, she gleefully corrected herself. When she had asked now-Father for a new wardrobe, he'd acquiesced. Sister-Mary had gotten all new clothes last year, so why not me?

The smell of cinnamon wafted through the air. How hard would it be to ask the tailor to let out her dress? How hard to adjust her corset? What would, she pondered, allow her another delicious cinnamon roll? A third delicious cinnamon roll.

It's the time of flabby women. she justified to herself, eyeing the rolls shamelessly. And, it was. Leisurely exercises dominated her time outdoors, leaving her merely rosy cheeked. Women did not sweat here, nor did they exert themselves. Women were not toned, and zaftig girls were considered as beautiful as sister-Mary—perhaps more so to some men.

Now-Edith did not have the same luck. No one thought she was beautiful, lovely, or charming or otherwise. In 2002, she'd blossomed with large breasts and broad hips. Now? Despite her best efforts, she remained slender and boyishly hipped. She’d been pale then, and she was pale now. That was the same. She had heavier set eyelids, the left marred by blemishes. Blemishes she'd gotten long since gotten used to. She avoided the color brown, powdered her face lightly, and hoped for the best. It wasn't too bad, but in truth she'd gotten used to looking this way.

But, whatever. Her new dress formed on her body with the help of the tailor and his assistant. She was more concerned with this now that she admired the dress again in the mirror. This dress would be for the afternoon, rendered in a tone on tone green striped fabric. She smoothed the front down, feeling the soft cotton poplin under her fingers. She clutched it softly between her pointer and thumb marveling in the texture.

A dress! She smiled at the thought – if there was no book, she’d take a dress. No dress, she’d take a lemon tart. Frivolities, she knew. Six years of living as a landed gentry separated her from her old life. She thought very little of politics now, little of the suffering of people and of the hoarding of capital. It was immaterial to her.

In fact, the most material thing to her at this point in time was convincing now-Mother and now-Father to allow her a dress of fine yellow damask. Neither sister-Mary nor sister-Sybil had anything like that. And, if they had the best looks of the girls why should now-Edith not have the best clothing? She had the best room of all her sisters, won with tears and pleading. She had more shoes, more gloves, and finer hats than her beautiful sisters. Won with tears, pleading, and an excellent academic performance. But, the dress of fine yellow damask? That eluded her. Like home. But she pushed that thought down.

She grabbed a third cinnamon roll from the serving plate upon which they sat and bit in.

“Honestly, Edith,” sister-Mary entered now-Edith’s room and continued, “There are colors other than green that suit you. Perhaps brown?” She sauntered to the large bay window and sat at its seat. The sunlight made her deep brunette hair shine.

“Green is my best color,” now-Edith replied.

“Yes, and I suppose that is your best face?” Sister-Mary didn’t bother to look at now-Edith.

“Can you go? I’m bored now,” feigning indifference worked, sometimes well, sometimes less well, but eventually sister-Mary would get bored and leave. Deprived of satisfaction, and later missing a treasured item from her bedroom. This afternoon, it was one of those missing items that had brought sister-Mary where she didn’t belong, within now-Edith’s eyesight.

The hat pin was long drowned in a lake just outside of Downton. It’d been a pretty hat pin, accented with a white pearl on the end. Delicious, beautiful, a pity I can’t keep it for myself, now-Edith had thought when she threw it from the moving car. Whenever she lacked wit, she had rank malice.

“Your hat pin is long, long gone,” now-Edith simply stated.

“No matter, Papa will buy me another one. He always does, without question,” sister-Mary shrugged. Now-Edith seethed with jealousy – she performed with a different sort of arsenal.

“Yes, without question. But, I wonder when Papa will get bored of replacing all of your things?” Now-Edith continued, “I wonder when Papa will order you to marry the man sitting next to you at dinner? I mean,” now-Edith chortled, “I wonder when Papa -”

“We all feel sorry for you, Edith,” sister-Mary interrupted, “You’re an ugly, pathetic thing lacking shame. Go on, finish your cinnamon roll.”

Now-Edith lightly tossed the once bitten bun back to the serving plate, “I’m fine, thank you. You put me off my feed. Why are you here? Other than your hat pin.”

“I was curious to see your new dress,”

“Curious? Or in need of fashion inspiration?”

Sister-Mary looked at her now, “Why would you inspire me? Whatever can I learn from you?”

“Wit?” Now-Edith let the word hang. It was an unwarranted boast – she knew. Sister-Mary was just as witty and just as malicious as now-Edith was. Perhaps they’d be friends if they hadn’t been sisters.

“I don’t need lessons in wit from you.”

“Nor lessons in unkindness, fashion, or otherwise,”

“Precisely,”

“I’m struggling to figure out why you’re here. I’m bored with you, Miss Simpson is nearly done pinning the skirt of my dress - ”

“You struggle with most things.”

“That is what you came in to tell me? You’re wasting my time. Does this amuse you?”

“A little,” sister-Mary raised her chin slightly. She rose from the window seat, smoothing the back of her floral dress, and made her way to the door. “Oh, yes,” she said when she reached the door frame. “I remember exactly why I stopped by now,” sister-Mary’s brown eyes bored down on now-Edith in the mirror. “Papa says Cousin Patrick is to escort you to London.”

And cousin-Patrick did.

#downton abbey fic

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darling-winnie · 1 year

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Thomas, Sybil & Matthew would've been such a powerful and chaotic friendship. Everyone's reaction to seeing the three of them together the first time. Matthew and Sybil defending Thomas. The three of them sitting down and chatting. Matthew and Sybil constantly pulling Thomas away from work or saying they need Thomas for something. All of them talking about their love lives after Thomas opens up to them. The angst of Thomas being the last one standing.

#if i was a writer #the fics with this concept #thomas barrow #lady sybil #matthew crawley #thomas x jimmy #sybil x tom #matthew x mary #thommy #downton abbey

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importantgalaxyrunaway · 1 year

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Master list

disclaimer: I am dyslexic so their may be spelling errors but I use spell check. All are fem reader. Send me an ask if you want male reader.

COLBY BROCK - 👻🖤🔮✨

(this series is Colby and y/n going to the sallie house and him comforting her)

midnight cuddles - chapter 1

good morning princess- chapter 2

Sallie house- chapter 3

The investigation- chapter 4

possessed- chapter 5

I love you- chapter 6

comments- chapter 7

Movies night/ Valentine’s Day (your sams sister and go on a date with Colby)

You slept with my sister!-part 2 (your sams sister and go on a date with Colby)

Halloween party (Colby gets jealous)

FINNICK ODAIR 💙🌊💍🧜‍♂️

(you and finnick go into the arena)

Nightmares part 1

The ring part 2

Chariot rides part 3

Training part 4

TOM BRANSON 🇮🇪❤️☘️🍀

Valentine’s Day

STEVE HARRINGTON 🍦🥰 ♥️🍨

keep the door open!!! —(hopper is your dad and Steve is in your room)

vecna —(you get taken by vecna)

RUMBELLE

dragons days

CORIOLANUS SNOW 🕊️🥀🐍🌹

Between the bars—(Coryo and y/n have their first kiss)

honeysuckle —-(what if Coryo met y/n in the arena)

MATHEW MURDOCK 🥊👿❤️🦯

the snap part 1 —(what if Matt disappeared in the blip)

better than the devil part 2 —-(what if Matt disappeared in the blip)

Sundays (newlyweds have a Sunday together and go to church)

Trust me there is many more to come.

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junkshop-disco · 2 years

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Downton Abbey fic: The Seventh Night of the Seventh Moon

Summary: Thomas hasn't seen Richard since the spring flowers started to push their way out of the ground. He's expecting Richard to pick him up and take him to a pub in York, but Richard has other ideas involving a hillside in the middle of nowhere, a flask of tea, and making the most of the long June evenings. (Downton Abbey, Thomas Barrow/Richard Ellis. 2751 word one-shot)

A/N: Wrote this last night on Discord for @combatbootsfemme and a couple of people asked me to post it for posterity. So obviously I made it longer.

Read it ✨ here ✨

#downton abbey #downton abbey fic #barris #thomas barrow/richard ellis

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bella-caecilia · 1 month

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I wish you would write a fic where... Cora and Robert would've had their son.

Yes! We were robbed! I don't know if I'll ever commit to this weighty storyline but here is a tidbit of how it could look <3

⟫⟫⟫

His hands clasped behind his back, Robert squeezed his fingers and let his gaze flit over the rainy garden behind the floor-to-ceiling windows. His mind was turning over the words of the latest letter from the war office. These letters were his invaluable connection to the front. He wasn't there himself; he had other duties to attend to. But at least he was being kept informed.

"Robert, darling. Do you want another cup of tea?" Her voice was soft but it pierced through his thoughts sharper than any scream could have. Her fragile tenderness was such a harsh contrast to the content of his thoughts. He suspected there was more she wanted to say from the open tone of her question. But upon turning around, he registered Carson and believed that her concern was too intimate to call across the room.

He left the rain-streaked window and took the tea Carson had silently poured him. He went to stand next to an empty settee and avoided looking at Cora. On his mind was the war. He didn't want mix these images with the vision of his wife, rosy and soft and naive.

Robert held on to the saucer and the silver spoon and felt no interest in the tea whatsoever. The same words went round and round in his mind. Germany is advancing on all fronts. Reading the letters from the war office felt increasingly like a fever dream. And he wanted to put an end to it himself.

"Oh, look who is there!" Cora's cooing caught his attention in an instant once again. Robert's head shot up and he took in Nanny in the doorway with the little master on her hip. A serene calm seized Robert's mind. Finally. Arthur managed to achieve this better than anyone else.

Robert watched Nanny walk over to where Cora was seated and place the little master on his mother's lap.

"Thank you, Nanny. I will ring for you when you can pick him up again."

Nanny bowed out. Robert lifted the teacup to his lips and followed Cora's gentle gestures with his eyes. She patted little Arthur's white gown and adjusted the ruffles on his tiny shoulders. His arms were so short, his little fists so easily disappeared in Cora's palm, his feet didn't reach his mother's knees. Robert was once again in shock at how miniature everything on Arthur was. Though, he was an infant after all.

Cora lowered her lips to the crown of Arthur's head. Robert watched the scene with a moved tug in his chest. What a gift. His eyes didn't leave the innocent, embracing duo as he approached them. He discarded his teacup on a tray and carefully sat down on the other end of Cora's settee. Their eyes met for a second before they both observed their son who had taken hold of Cora's pearl necklace and purred quietly in full concentration, studying the accessory.

"Careful, dear chap," Robert said softly. "That's a favourite of your mother's."

Cora kissed the infant's dark hair again. "It's alright. I like to share it," she hummed.

Robert was enraptured by the gentle display of mother and son. He lifted his hand to his wife's face and tentatively brushed the back of his forefinger over her incredibly soft cheek. She acknowledged him with a fond, even smitten smile.

Robert was reassured that his duty here at home wasn't any less important than supporting the war. It was very different but a single look at his wife and their infant son confirmed his responsibility and the rightfulness of his staying.

⟫⟫⟫

(Funny enough, I just started working on an old WIP again that's kind of fitting the brief and kind of not... Well, it's basically an angsty s1 pregnancy AU with a twist. But more about this when I've finished this ficlet :) )

I wish you would write a fic where...

#thank you so much for the ask <3 #fic ask game #cobert #cobert fanfiction #robert crawley #cora crawley #s2 #downton abbey fanfiction #downton abbey season 2

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oatflatwhite · 2 years

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“Tell me how we met?” Thomas asked.

chapter 6 is posted!! ft. some simple, and some hard, truths shared between thomas and richard. warnings for frank discussion of thomas' depression and self-harm.

#downton abbey #downton abbey fic #downton abbey fanfiction #thomas barrow #richard ellis #thomas barrow x richard ellis #barris #barris fic #oatflatwrites #downton time travel fic

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peterjakes · 1 year

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Thomas x Richard - 'they won't flower like they did last spring'

Thomas' life is finally where he wants it to be, as the Butler of Downton, he feels contented. That is until he receives a letter from an old friend. An old friend he never thought he'd see again.

I really hated Thomas' ending in the film so lets just imagine it never happened. after years of watching downton and saying I would write something I've finally done it! I actually like how this one turned out for once so that's fun. I think it'll probably be a few more chapters but not sure atm. I just love Thomas v much and want to give him the ending he deserves

thank you for reading and enjoy! x

also posted on ao3; https://archiveofourown.org/works/42969186/chapters/107959806

Thomas was standing in the Butler’s Pantry, his eyes fixated on the wine list for later that evening. It wasn’t a particularly important dinner; only the family were attending but like his predecessor, he liked to make sure everything was ship shape and proper, just in case. The last week hadn’t been that eventful, but Thomas was glad of that. So many times, over his years at Downton had Thomas dealt with too much trouble, it was nice to have some peace and quiet.

A quick knock interrupted Thomas’ trance and he turned to find Andy walking into the room. Holding a fist full of letters, he gave Thomas a quick smile before speaking.

“Post for you, Mr Barrow.” Gesturing towards the wad of letters in his hand, Andy moved to placed them on Thomas’ desk. “Looks there’s something for you too.” Andy nodded, clearly trying not to hide his cheeky smile.

“Yes, thank you Andy.” Dismissing the lad in front of him, Thomas turned and picked up the letters, hearing Andy’s footsteps get further and further away until Thomas was alone again. There wasn’t anything particular interesting, a few for his Lordship, one for Lady Mary and yes.

Andy was right, however. There was something for Thomas. Thomas recognised that handwriting; how could he not? He and the owner had written to each other for almost a year. The letters were never especially regular, but Thomas liked it that way. They both had lives to lead, and Thomas couldn’t blame them for wanting to live.

But the last few months things changed. The letters came still, but very few of them did and what was in the letters wasn’t the same. It became more restricted, like they were holding something back. And then the blow came. Richard was getting married.

It wasn’t that it was unexpected, it was sad and unlike the Richard Thomas had met when the King and Queen came to visit. Thomas knew he would never marry; he would rather be alone for the rest of his life than unhappily married to someone he could never truly love. But clearly Richard was different. Maybe it was all a lie or maybe Richard realised he could never be happy living the type of life Thomas led. Regardless of that, Thomas hadn’t heard from Richard since. He had kept the pocket watch Richard had gifted him on his bedside table up until that point. But a week after he had read the damning letter, it was hidden away in an empty drawer. Thomas wasn’t entirely sure whether he should reply to the letter. What would he have said? Congratulations? Well done? Nothing Thomas could think to write ever seemed good enough or appropriate. In the end, he sent a quick, short letter. It was more like a note, thanking Richard for telling him and wishing him well. There was no more to say and clearly Richard had thought so too. Up until now that was.

Thomas was surprised he had written back to him - what did he realistically have to say? And why had he taken so long? A part of Thomas didn’t want to open the letter, he wished he could rip it up and throw it in his wastepaper basket. But the other part, the part that longed to hear from him, that often still thought of those few days they spent together, that Thomas knew he couldn’t ignore it.

Opening up the letter, Thomas skimmed over the first few lines before putting the letter down. He couldn’t help reading those words in Richard’s voice, but he felt foolish for doing so, like a love-struck teenager. Thomas was a grown man and should be acting accordingly. But he carried on reading.

Dear Mr Barrow,

I’m sorry for not writing sooner. Life has taken over and I’ve never seemed to have the time, but I know that was wrong of me.

I appreciate your reply to my letter, I wasn’t sure whether I would receive one. But I was glad to.

I can imagine what my letter contained what not what you wanted to hear, but I couldn’t go through with it without telling you first. Maybe I shouldn’t have, maybe I should have let you be happy without the knowledge of my life progressing. But I didn’t. I couldn’t lie to you.

Although life has been busy, I’ve missed hearing from you. Life at Downton must have changed since my visit. My life certainly has. I’m no longer part of the Royal household. I decided to leave once the engagement was as announced. It was the right thing to do, leaving I mean.

I doubt very much you want to hear about my marriage, so I won’t insult you by giving you a detailed account. But please know Clara is a kind woman, who has made me very happy. Maybe not in the way I thought it would be, but regardless, happy.

She’s not able to have children. I don’t know why I’m telling you this in particular and maybe I shouldn’t, as it isn’t my secret to tell. But I have now. I knew this when we married, but my parents were disappointed, I know. I never thought I would be graced with children, though my parents hoped they would have a wonderful bundle of grandchildren. It seems my life has twist and turned in ways I could never have expected.

I work for Lord Hessian now, I’m not sure if you’ve heard of him. It’s different to my old job, that’s fair to say, but I enjoy it, nevertheless. There’s more freedom and I’m able to have my own life. I hope I can say the same for you.

I don’t expect a reply after so long and I don’t even expect you to read this, but if you do, please know how sorry I am. I can’t imagine the pain I caused you with my last letter. I am not foolish enough to ask for forgiveness, but I just wanted you to know that I am sorry.

It would be nice to hear from you, but please don’t feel obliged to.

Your dear friend,

Richard.

Well, that was unexpected, Thomas could at least say that. Thomas hadn’t thought of Richard that often, he had tried not to. Once he had heard the news, Thomas didn’t want to think about him anymore, it hurt too much. And as Richard had said, life takes over and you forget. But that didn’t mean he was glad to hear from him. It was…nice, he supposed. But Thomas knew he couldn’t just leave it, he had to reply, and he wanted to.

Putting pen to paper, Thomas started to write, having no real clue what he was going to say.

Mr Ellis,

You’re right, it was unexpected to hear from you.

I’m glad to hear you’re doing well; I should hate to think you were not.

Life at Downton is much the same. The old Butler, Carson, has seemingly realised he can’t be in control forever, and has left me be for the most part. We had a radio installed in the servant’s hall a few months ago, which cheers up our meals no end.

I’m enjoying my life as Downton’s Butler but have been wondering whether I will be here forever. Maybe I’ll take a leaf out of your book and escape, or maybe I’ll turn into old Carson, wanting to be buried under the kitchens.

I imagine life is different for you now not working for our blessed King, but I’m glad to hear you’re happy.

Your last letter was a long time ago, and life has moved on, as I’m sure you have.

Thank you for writing.

Thomas.

That seemed fine enough, Thomas thought to himself. Thomas made sure not to make any direct mention of Richard’s marriage, as there seemed no real point. He also didn’t want to get interrupted and get asked awkward questions, which he was bound to get. Leaving it there, Thomas found a spare envelope and pocketed the letter, making a mental note to take it to the village later. He still had a busy day ahead of him and didn’t want to get side-tracked.

Walking into the servant’s hall for breakfast, Thomas was greeted by his fellow servants, rising in their seats as he waltzed through the room. Thomas didn’t mind admitting that he still enjoyed this aspect of his job, it was nice to be more respected. But things had changed over the past few years, since officially becoming Butler, even with Carson poking is nose in every now and then, there was a shift for Thomas. Thomas was used to being alone, he’d been alone almost his whole life and there had been many times where the loneliness was almost crippling whilst at Downton. But he didn’t feel like that anymore; he enjoyed his own company. Thomas didn’t think he had changed completely, but he could sense as could others that he had matured over the years. Things that had once mattered to him, like nosing into other people’s business, he didn’t care for it anymore. His life had altered in ways Thomas never thought they would. He was happy, or at least happier than he had been in a long time. It was a strange feeling, an odd one.

Sitting down, the others followed, and the group tucked into the breakfast, wary of the bells which would soon ring and announce the start of their day.

“I’m going into the village later if anyone needs anything.” Thomas said as he started to butter his toast. A walk into the village may help clear his head a little after that letter and Thomas wanted to send it as soon as he could.

Mr Baxter was sitting on his left and gave Thomas a small smile. This was a regular occurrence, as if she was signally some support towards Thomas. “Something special?”

“Just posting a letter.” Returning the favour, Thomas smiled at her ever so slightly and turned his attention to his breakfast.

“Are you sure we can spare you, Mr Barrow?” It was Mrs Hughes who spoke this time, a twinge of concern appearing on her face. Though her loyalties lied with Mr Carson, the woman sitting beside Thomas was someone he knew he could rely on. Though they have had their differences over the years, Thomas never forgot her support during some trying times.

“I’ll be back to ring the gong, Mrs Hughes, don’t you worry.” Thomas knew he would, all he needed to do was deliver his letter and that was that. The walk into the village was always quite nice, especially alone but that wasn’t his reason for going.

“Oh, you know me, Mr Barrow, a worrier if ever there was one.”

“I might join you, Mr Barrow. If that’s alright?”

“Course it is, would be glad of the company, Andy.” Thomas had wanted to go alone, give him some time to think but then he had offered to pick up anything anyone needed and couldn’t expect everyone to ignore that. He would deliver his letter, Andy would do whatever he needed to do, and then they would come back, in time for the dressing gong. It would be fine. Feeling the weight of the letter to Richard, Thomas realised something. He could feel one letter, his own but not the letter addressed to him. Damn it. He must have left it in the pantry. It would probably be best to grab it, just in case anyone came snooping. Thomas wasn’t naïve enough to believe those who had worked with him didn’t know almost everything about Thomas, they’d all been together a long time. But it made him feel uneasy that people may rifle through his private letters.

Knowing he’d have to act now before the bells started to ring and he’d have to shoot up to the dining room for breakfast, Thomas arose without a word. Almost everyone else hadn’t expected it, and half-way through their breakfast quickly followed. Andy almost spilt half of his cup of tea whilst Anna dropped her spoon back into her porridge, creating a loud clang.

“Mr Barrow?” Mrs Hughes once again was wearing a concerned frown, a look she so often had when speaking to Thomas.

Realising how odd he looked in this moment, almost clinging onto his pocket, Thomas brought himself back to reality. “I’ve just forgotten something; I’ll be right back.” Forcing a quick smile to Mrs Hughes, he nodded towards Andy and Albert, signalling he would be back for breakfast. Marching towards the pantry in search for the letter, Thomas almost skidded along the floor. It must have sounded very odd to everyone at breakfast, but he didn’t care. He needed to grab his letter. But you see, that was the thing, walking towards the tidied desk, Thomas realised something. The letter was gone.

#downton abbey #Thomas barrow #thomas x richard #Thomas barrow fic #Thomas barrow fanfic #downton abbey fic #downton abbey fanfic #Thomas barrow fanfiction #downton abbey fanfiction #mine #my writing #they won't flower like they did last spring

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