#its mr barrow to you

[herladyshipssoapp]

Don't you just love when Thomas does that "I've just been insulted but can't retaliate right now" face

#downton abbey #thomas barrow #downton #mr barrow #its mr barrow to you

[specialagentlokitty]

Thomas Barrow x daughter!reader - need my father

hello there i hope your doing well just saw that you were looking for some thomas barrow requests if so would you be willing to do a x daughter reader maybe where she's sick and all she wants is her father if its no trouble. Hope you have a lovely day <3 - Anon💜

You had barely managed to get out of bed that morning, you were supposed to help Daisy with setting up the fireplaces and then help Mrs Patmore in the kitchen, but when Daisy woke you up and you stood up you nearly fell back down.

Stepped into the hallway, you reached a hand out and grabbed Anna by the back of her dress and she turned around.

“My goodness (Y/N), what ever is the matter you like a pale as a ghost.”

She gently took your arms and led you back to your bed, and you looked at her.

“I don’t.. feel very well…” you whispered.

“Rest, I’ll tell Mrs Hughes.”

You nodded and she covered you back up and you curled up into a ball.

You wanted your dad, but no one knew he was your father, when you came to Downton, Thomas and you had agreed to keep it a secret for both your interests.

And that’s what you did.

But right now, you just wanted him to be by your side, he always looked after you when you were sick, and you hadn’t been sick since you came to Downton.

Anna rushed downstairs and found the head housemaid.

“Oh Anna have you seen (Y/N), she’s late.”

Thomas glanced up from what he was doing.

“She’s not feeling well Mrs Hugh’s, in fact she looks incredibly weak and exhausted.”

“Right thank you, go and help Daisy.”

Anna nodded and made her way upstairs and Thomas stopped her.

“What’s wrong with (Y/N)?”

“She’s ill, and you’re going to be late.”

With that, Anna rushed away and Thomas frowned a little.

You seemed perfectly fine yesterday.

But there was no way for him to check on you, he couldn’t get to the ladies hallway, and he couldn’t exactly ask to go and see you either.

So he’d have to wait.

Mrs Hughes went to your room and she walked in, finding you curled under the sheets and she walked over with Mr Carson.

“How are you feeling?” Mrs Hughes whispered.

You shook your head and covered yourself even more.

You were sweating, and when she touched your head, she felt how burning hot your skin was.

“She’s burning up, perhaps we should call for the doctor?”

“I’ll bring some water and a cloth, then I’ll have a word with Lord Grantham.”

“I’ll stay with her.”

Mr Carson rushed away.

Mrs Hughes pulled a chair up next to your bed, and she gripped your hand as she ran her hand over your hair.

You were such a lovely girl, and they all thought of you as sweet, kind, friendly, bright.

To see you in such a state was heartbreaking.

Mr Carson came back, and Mrs Hughes got to work on trying to bring your temperature down while he rushed to find Lord Grantham.

And thankfully it didn’t take long, he was found in the library talking to Lady Sybil.

“I’m sorry to intrude my Lord.”

“Carson, what is it?”

Mr Carson walked over.

“It’s (Y/N), one of the kitchen maids my lord. She’s running a fever, and we are all rather worried and wondered if we need to send for a doctor.”

“Take me to her.” Lady Sybil said.

“I don’t think that wise my lady we do not know if what she has will spread.”

“She is sick, and if you’re worried we need to see her condition to decide if s doctor will be needed.”

“She’s right Carson, bring us down to the girl.”

So he did, Mrs Hughes quickly stood up and you did the same, practically collapsing the moment you stood fully.

“Good gracious (Y/N).” Mrs Hughes said.

She barely caught you, and Mr Carson helped put you back into bed.

“I.. I’m sorry.. my lordship.. lady Sybil..” you rasped out.

“No, no that’s quite alright we understand.” Lord Grantham spoke.

He looked at you and he turned to Mr Carson.

“Call for the doctor immediately.” He whispered.

Mr Carson nodded and rushed away.

“How long have you been feeling this way?” Lady Sybil asked softly.

“I.. woke up.. my lady…”

She nodded her head.

“All food will not be contaminated, she hasn’t helped in the kitchen for a few days as she’s been helping me.” Mrs Hughes said.

“Food can be replaced Mrs Hughes, that’s fine. For now, we’ll see what has to be said in her condition. Will you let us know if anything changes?” Lord Grantham asked.

“Of course My Lord.”

He nodded and the two went to leave when you mumbled something.

Mrs Hughes gripped your hand and looked at you.

“What is it?” She asked.

You were breathing deeply.

“T..Thomas..”

Your breathing was ragged and pained, and you looked like you were trying to contain your emotions and your pain.

“What about Thomas?” Lord Grantham asked.

You never replied and he furrowed his brows a little but didn’t question you any further, seeing you weren’t in the state of mind to answer.

They left and Mrs Hughes carried on trying to bring down your temperature but it only seemed to be getting worse.

You were mumbling nonsense, only pained noises coming through clear.

There was a knock on your door, and it was Anna.

“I’m sorry Mrs Hughes, Mrs Patmore is on about the store room key again.”

Mrs Hughes looked at you fast asleep and she nodded her head.

“Alright, I’ll come down. I need to change the water anyway. Thank you Anna.”

“Will she be okay alone?” Anna asked.

“She’s sleeping, she should be fine yes. We’re just waiting for a doctor.”

Anna nodded and the both headed downstairs to sort the commotion with Mrs Patmore and the store room.

You on the other hand, woke up and realised you were alone.

You were scared, and upset, and hurting, and you wanted one thing.

So, on shaky legs you stood up and slowly left your room.

You never came across anyone, so you assumed it must’ve been luncheon maybe, or maybe they were all eating, you didn’t know.

You slowly made your way down the stairs, by some miracle with your blurry vision and light headedness you didn’t fall down the stairs.

And your made your way into the servants dining room, and it was empty, you tried to sit in a chair, but you fell, creating a loud bang.

Sitting up, you pushed yourself back against a wall, looking around confused.

Mrs Patmore had heard the bang, and she rushed out of the kitchen.

“Who was that?!” She yelled.

She saw the missing chair, and she walked over and she saw you.

Rushing over, she crouched next to you, and you weakly pushed her away.

“I.. I’m sorry…”

“You should be in bed! Not wondering around!” She scolded.

You pushed her away again.

“Daisy! Daisy get in here!”

“Yes Mrs Patmore!”

Daisy rushed in and looked at you in shock.

“Get Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes, and William or whoever you can find. She needs to go back to bed. They should be in the drawing room. She won’t let me help and she’s hit her head!”

“Yes Mrs Patmore!”

Daisy ran away and up the stairs.

She ran to the drawing room and tossed the door open.

Inside was the Lord Grantham, the countess lady Cora, lady Sybil, Lady Edith, Lady Mary, Mr Carson, Thomas and William.”

“What on earth is wrong with you Daisy?!” Mr Carson hissed.

“I.. I’m sorry Mr Carson! I’m sorry my Lord and my ladies! But it’s.. it’s (Y/N)!”

Thomas froze for a split second but regained his composure.

“What about her? Has she taken a turn?” Lord Grantham asked.

“No… I don’t know… she.. she managed to go downstairs My Lord, but she fell and she won’t allow Mrs Patmore to help her! She.. she hit her head!”

“The doctor still has yet to arrive…” Lady Sybil whispered.

Thomas slowly put down his tray and he bowed his head.

“I apologise excuse me my lord, my ladies.”

With that he rushed to the door, ignoring the calls of his name.

He all but ran down the stairs, Daisy, William, Mr Carson, Lord Grantham, Lady Sybil and the countess behind them all.

Thomas rushed into the room and around the table, and he dropped in front of you, taking your face between his hands.

“(Y/N)?” He asked.

You looked at him but didn’t respond.

“(Y/N)!”

“Father…?” You asked dazed.

He brushed some hair from your face, looking at the blood on the corner of your head.

“Yes, yes it’s me. It’s me.”

He quickly pulled you into him, letting out a deep sigh and you held him back, tears falling from your eyes.

“It… it hurts…”

“The doctor is coming…” he whispered.

He sat down, pulled you against his chest and he held your tightly, and you gripped his arm tightly, resting your head on his shoulder.

You were breathing deeply and heavily, and he ran his fingers through your hair.

“She is your daughter?” Mr Carson whispered.

“Yes she is my daughter.” He snapped.

“Why on earth would you not tell us Thomas?” Lady Cora asked.

“She did not want people to know, she wanted to work, and not just be know as my daughter my lady.”

Thomas sighed, resting his head on yours.

“I apologise we didn’t tell anyone, but it was what she wanted.”

“You wanted to respect her wishes. That’s the sign of a good father Thomas, it shows you care.” Lord Grantham smiled.

“We need to do something about that head though.” Lady Cora said.

“I tried, she won’t let me clean it my lady.” Mrs Patmore sighed.

“She will now. Clean it now.” Thomas said.

“You’re sure she will?” Mr Carson asked.

“I know my daughter. She is scared, nothing more and nothing less. Mr Carson.” Thomas said lowly.

Mrs Patmore tired again, and this time you let her, your hand gripped your fathers hand tightly.

“I’ve got you, you’re okay..” he whispered.

“You will not leave?” You sniffled.

“No. No of course not…”

Everyone shared a look.

This was a side of Thomas they hadn’t seen. So caring and worried, protective.

“The doctor will be here shortly mr lord.” Mrs Hughes said.

“Right, she needs to be back up in bed.”

You gripped your dad tightly.

“Don’t.. go…”

“I must, but I will come straight after…” Thomas whispered.

“You can managed with one footman for today can’t you Carson?”

Mr Carson looked to Lord Grantham and he nodded his head.

“Yes, of course my lord.”

“Mrs Hughes, can you allow Thomas to take his daughter up to her room and stay by her side until she is better?” Lady Cora asked.

“Of course I can my Lady.”

They smiled and nodded, and Thomas swept you into his arms, picking you up with ease and he looked and them, bowing his head in thanks.

“I am willing to accept any punishment for my actions, all I ask is you don’t punish her.”

“We will talk about this more when she is well.” Lord Grantham said.

“Of course my Lord.”

Thomas was rushed away and he sat on your bed with you, holding you tightly in his arms while you stared up at the ceiling.

He held a cold cloth to your forehead, and resting his head on yours.

“You will be okay.” He said softly.

“You.. you’ll make me better…?”

“Always.”

You weakly smiled and nodded your head, closing your eyes as you held his hand.

Mrs Hughes smiled and said nothing.

Now it made sense to them all why you had asked for Thomas.

You weren’t asking for Thomas Barrow, the rude and cruel footman.

You were asking for Thomas Barrow, your father, your knight in shining armour who always cared for you and saved you

#Downton abbey #downton abbey x reader #Downton abbey x you #Downton abbey imagine #Thomas Barrow #Thomas Barrow x reader #Thomas Barrow x you #Thomas Barrow imagine

[downton-musings]

Suitors (Thomas Barrow x Female Reader x Tom Branson) CH. 2

Pairings: Thomas Barrow x Female Reader x Tom Branson

Synopsis: Tensions arise as reader navigates newfound feelings for Mr. Barrow and Tom

Warnings: Angst (expression of frustration and jealousy), some coercion, smoking, profanity

Author’s note: Thomas is portrayed as being heterosexual (straight) in this series. If that offends or upsets you, kindly keep scrolling. This is a series, and will be posted in multiple chapters, also the reader is 19 years old *

——————————————————————————

A willow tree kept you sheltered under its swaying branches as you concentrated on the notebook in your lap, trapping your thoughts on paper with a black fountain pen.

Its pigmented ink saturated the cream colored pages with the careful movement of your hand.

It was past luncheon now, but hunger didn’t provoke you when you were writing. It was the one occupation that dissolved the world around you, and only made tangible the one in your head.

The lush English Countryside was a welcoming location for new ideas. The steady swishing of the wind encouraged you, as did the sun warming your exposed shoulders.

As your eyes wandered over your pen work, a throat cleared next to you. You finished your last thought with an exaggerated period, slowly turning your head to the visitor.

A familiar pair of blue green eyes met yours, creasing at the edges with affection. Your eyes widened in surprise.

“I just came to inform you that luncheon is being served.” As he spoke you observed his well kept frame, wandering down to his fingers clasped in front of him, fidgeting slightly.

“Oh, right of course.” You let out a breathy laugh, feeling the nerves of being with him alone.

You made haste and closed your notebook with a soft thud, rising from your seat.

“What are you writing?” He asked with curious eyes, inviting himself to sit on the bench with a content sigh.

Obligingly you followed his lead with a flat smile, taking back your original place.

“I couldn’t say.” You quipped, thinking quickly as your brought your leg over the other.

“Why’s that?” He leaned in in intrigue, resting his elbow on the edge of the bench. It appeared that he regressed into his young socialist self, losing sight of manners.

“Because,” you paused, taking in a breath as you conjured a response, “it could be about you.” Your eyes found his as the words left your lips, rendering you both speechless as you shared a prolonged gaze.

“Oh.” He blinked, taken back by your confession. The thought of your journal with his name in it was an all too scandalous notion for him to take in, it made his cheeks flush. “Could be?”

“It will be if you continue to pry,” you teased with a playful tone, giving his shoulder a light tap with the back of your book.

He chuckled softly, showing off his pearly white teeth in genuine amusement. The sight made your own mouth curl into an uncontrollable smile.

“We should get on then.” You suggested as your grin faded, bringing your eyes down to your lap.

A gust of wind came in, softly blowing a few strings of hair over your face.

“Right.” He agreed quietly, admiring you with parted lips.

——————————————————————————

“Do you favor a drink?” Cora asked, turning her head back from the bar table.

“Yes,” you replied, prying your eyes from the orange flames. “Thank you.”

She hummed in acknowledgement.

A clean trickling sound followed the pour of her hand, dispensing gold liquid into a glass.

She glided over to you, handing your drink which you thankfully took from her hand. The cushions squeaked as she sat across from you, gracefully curling her legs to the side.

“You appear quite occupied.” She noted, observing your trance like focus on the burning wood.

Her observation shook your focus, peeling your eyes back to her. “Yes. You see,” you paused, thumbing your glass in nervousness. “You’ll find me quite silly..”

Her head tilted in intrigue. “I’m not quite sure silly is a word I would use to describe you.”

You half smiled, appreciative of her flattery. “No, but you see,” you breathed, dropping your shoulders. “I’ve taken quite a liking to Tom.”

A second of silence followed your confession, making you chew the inside of your lip in anticipation.

“Oh.” She blinked in surprise. “Our Tom?”

“Yes, yes,” you shushed her with a finger to you lip, scanning the room and lowering your voice, “But don’t say anything.”

She nodded silently as a sort of promise, bringing her glass to her lips with a pleased grin.

Thomas’ hands flattened against the other side of the door, head falling back against the hard wood. He exhaled heavily as his mind clouded with disappointment. His blue eyes twitched in the dim light, growing glossy with tears.

“Thomas?” Jimmy’s voice called from the servants entrance, peaking his head out of the door.

“Shit.” He cursed, straightened up his posture and swiping a finger under his eyes.

“Coming.” Thomas called back in a flat tone, sucking in a breath. He struggled to pull himself away from the door, rounding the corner.

“I need a smoke.” Thomas huffed as he stomped over to Jimmy, breathing out harshly through his nose.

Jimmy’s concerned eyes scanned him, his clenching jaw and lowered gaze, wandering in thought.

“You alright?”

“M’fine,” he lied, “just need some air is all.” His hand came down on Jimmy’s shoulder in a reassuring tap as he shuffled past him, descending down the stairs.

The hall was busy with people. Mrs. Patmore was on Daisy’s tail with a pile of dirty dishwater in her arms, cleaning up after supper.

A frustrated Thomas wove in and out of the crowd, raising his hands to squeeze past Anna with an armful of towels.

The bunch was distracted with their own tasks, giving him the opportunity to slip away unnoticed. He hurried down the dimly lit corridor, desperate for escape from his spiraling thoughts. With an eager grasp on the brass knob, he twisted it open, letting in a gentle gust of cool night air. He sighed as it hit his skin, relaxing the tension in his shoulders. A sense of relief washed over him as the door clicked behind him, in solitude at last.

Once alone he hastily reached in his pocket, sifting his fingers through until the familiar cool metal touched his skin.

With shaking fingers he lifted a dry cigarette to his lips, securing it with his mouth as he flicked the lighter. With the cupping of his palm the flame caught, illuminating his tear stained face in an orange glow.

He took a long drag, closing his eyes as the comforting smoke filled his mouth. He held it there for a moment, savoring the feeling before letting it out through his nose.

A cloud of gray followed his repeated movements, polluting the clear moonlit sky with a cast of swirling black.

He propped himself against the stone wall, bringing a slight chill to his skin as he took another drag, mindlessly scuffing the rocks beneath his feet.

As he did so a soft pattering of footsteps stirred from nearby, making him straighten up. He tapped the butt of his cigarette, sprinkling a heap of ashes on the ground as he listened in.

——————————————————————————

The soft whispering of yours and Cora’s voices echoed in the darkened foyer as you spoke at the end of the stairs.

Mrs. Hughes caught your eye, closing the sitting room door once finished cleaning up the sitting room. She offered a grin of acknowledgment before disappearing down the hall.

“I think I’ll go for a stroll.” You inquired, turning you head back to Cora.

Her brows furrowed in concern with a low voice, “Are you quite sure? Is it safe?”

“I’m sure so. I’ll only be a few minutes, I would like to gather inspiration for my writing.”

“Shall I send someone with you?” She offered, uneasy with the idea of you being alone.

“No need. I’ll be just fine.” You leaned in, placing a goodnight peck on her cheek.

Your hands lifted in her grasp, warming as she squeezed them affectionately.

“If you insist.” She caved, relaxing with a smile. “Well goodnight then.”

“Goodnight.” You whispered with a head nod, parting from her as she tip toed up the steps.

You started your separate ways, you for the front door. The large frame swallowed your body as you approached it. With a careful hand, as to not wake anyone, you twisted the gold handle, unlatching the metal with a click.

The door was heavy, requiring a fair amount of weight. You leaned against the wood, huffing slightly as it pushed open, exposing you to the outside air.

A delighted grin spread across your face as you stepped out onto the gravel, eyes dancing in admiration of the moonlit sky.

The door fell closed behind you with the force of a soft breeze, pulling your hair back.

“Alright,” you whispered, studying the darkened greenery with curious eyes. “What shall I discover tonight?”

You started around the corner, kicking up loose stones with your steps, no doubt leaving white powder on the fringe of your dress.

The night was calm, serene. The only time of day where unnatural noises seized to exist, leaving space for the voices of animals and plants. It was still except for the shallow exhales from your nose and chirping crickets.

Dark fluffy silhouettes of trees came into view as you rounded the back of the abbey, greeted by a stone wall to your left.

Your steps slowed as your eyes followed the strategically placed stones, held together with a layer of plaster.

As your eyes drifted back to the path, a cloud of smoke drifted in front of you. Your scrunched your nose as the smell.

In intrigue you followed the swirling cast, crunching the stones beneath your shoes until you were met with an opening in the stone wall.

Pitch black darkness invaded your view. You turned your back, squinting at the moon hiding behind a large tree.

“Hello?” You called in a soft voice, curiously stepping into the enclosure.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness an orange flame exposed itself, revealing a masculine face with sculpted cheekbones.

The figure shuffled, sucking in a shaky breath as he approached you.

A soft gust of wind stirred the branches of the tree, pouring in a veil of moonlight over the man’s face. His eyes were deep blue, sparkling in the white light. They sat deep under his black brows, curiously looking down at you.

“Lady y/n,” he murmured with a low intrigued voice, pulling in a mouth of smoke.

You couldn’t help but study his blush colored lips, pursing out as he exhaled a drag of smoke over his shoulder.

Your neck strained at his height, bringing your heart rate up as you put the pieces together, “Barrow is it?”

He let out a pleased exhale at your recognition.

“Yes ma’am.” A smirk pulled on his lips hearing his name on your tongue, bringing out his dimples.

You shuffled your weight on both feet, unsure of your proximity. Clutching your hands in front of you out of habit, you thumbed the top of your hand.

“I smelled the smoke.” You cleared your throat, “I was out on a stroll you see,” you explained, eyes looking to the side. “Looking for inspiration to write.”

He hummed in intrigue, tilting his head as he finished off his cigarette, tossing it to the side with a soft thud.

“Did you find it?” He asked, scanning his eyes down your figure. Your skin was a glistening cream in the white light, exaggerating your purity and youth.

“I-“ The words seemed to get caught in your throat as his eyes met yours. Your chest rose softly under his gaze. “I believe I have.”

His expression softened at your words. With a pounding heart against his chest, he dug his nails into his palms, fighting to back his desire.

“Very good ma’am.” He replied in the most polite tone he could muster, scarcely concealing his intentions. In the gleaming sapphire of his irises you could make out a string of unspoken words.

“Right,” you started, swallowing thickly. “Well, I’m afraid I’ve found what I was looking for, so I best be headed inside.”

He nodded, giving you an outing. In reluctance you pulled yourself away from him, turning on your heel for the path.

A heavy breath escaped your lips in discontentment, clouding in the cool air.

His footsteps crunched behind you as he made way for the servants door. With his hand it cracked open, letting out a blanket of orange light at your feet.

You turned your head back, catching his broad silhouette before he disappeared into the servants hall.

——————————————————————————

To be continued!

#Thomas barrow #Tom Branson #allen leech #robert james collier #downton abbey #downton abbey fanfiction #tom branson x reader #thomas barrow x reader #tom branson fan fic #thomas barrow fan fic #angst #period dramas #1920s #bbc #British men

[angelswing236]

"This better be good."

Fictober 2023

Category: Fanfiction

Fandom: Downton Abbey

‘You’re needed, Mr Barrow. Downstairs,’ Timmy said, arriving by Thomas’s side in the Great Hall.

‘What for?’ Thomas asked, annoyed at having his routine disrupted.

The boy shrugged. ‘Miss Baxter said I should tell you to come right away.’

Thomas sighed. ‘All right. Thank you, Timmy.’

He crossed to the servants’ door, trudging down the stairs, wondering what problem had reared its ugly head this time that he’d have to fix.

All was quiet as he made his way to the servants’ hall, which only made him suspicious. Through the window, he could see a large number of the staff standing around. Please God this wasn’t some kind of rebellion. Well, he thought, if it was, there was only one way to deal with it and that was to be assertive from the start.

‘This better be good,’ he said, determined to show them who was in charge as he strode into the room. ‘Dragging me down here when – ’

‘Happy birthday, Mr Barrow!’ the assembled company cried as one.

At the top of the table where Thomas normally sat, the wall formed by Phyllis, Anna, Mrs Patmore and Mrs Hughes parted, the women stepping aside to reveal a small pile of gaily wrapped gifts and a large cake sporting a number of small candles and a hand-piped legend of ‘Happy Birthday, Thomas!’.

Thomas gaped, completely taken aback. ‘What the… what’s all this?’

‘What’s it look like?’ Mrs Patmore said, rolling her eyes. ‘Teddy bears’ picnic?’

‘Well, you don’t normally make a fuss of my birthday.’

Phyllis stepped forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek. ‘Well, it’s not every day you turn 40, is it, Thomas? Happy birthday!’

Thomas felt a smile spreading over his face, an unaccustomed warmth in his chest as a feeling of belonging finally rippled through him.

#fictober23 #downton abbey #fanfiction #thomas barrow #writing prompt #writing challenge

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

Scans from Railway Archive No. 19's print of "The H.L. Hopwood Collection 1901-1926 Part 2: The Furness Railway at Barrow in 1902"

Scanned these primarily for @angryskarloey, but posting them here along with some very basic explanations of the engine classes seen.

Original scans as pdfs available upon request.

Harold Hopwood was a rail photographer. He seems to have been particularly Useful for nabbing high-quality images of endangered railway engines. (You should get a load of how often RA managed to use the words "antiquated," "elderly," and "anachronistic" in the ~1000 words dedicated to its write-up and captions.)

Below Mr. Hopwood takes us on a day trip to Barrow Dockyards in the summer of 1902.

Just to orient the general reader: The original Bury Copper-Nobs are not pictured because three of them were gone and No. 3 was in storage, still awaiting the construction of a glass house.

However, have you heard of... Fairbairn Copper-Nobs?

The Furness Bury bar-frame engines were already so dated on arrival that, eight years later when the F.R. wanted to purchase more, Bury was out of business. To a normal railway this might be a sign to gracefully move with the times. But this is the F.R., lol. They knew what they liked, and Fairbairn's had inherited the blueprints, so Fairbairn's built them a total of 8 more from 1854-1861.

F in the chat for the two poor engines built to this design in 1861. I mean there's nothing inherently wrong with it—witness their useful 40+-year careers—but they definitely never got to be fashionable, lol.

The Fairbairn bar-frame engines were different from the original Burys in various small technical respects that are all too boring to get into (bit bigger and stronger, mostly). The most visible difference is the splashers—as one can see above, the Fairbairns had closed splashers with a handsome brass detail that RA calls "beading."

(The "closed splashers" probably mean you can actually get from the footplate to the buffers without hopping down to the ground, walking, and then hauling yourself back up again. Which is very useful for rail-sanding. Especially in tunnels.)

After Fairbairn's went out of business, the F.R. applied for its new 0-4-0 goods engines from Sharp and Stewart. However, S. & S. produced them from its own coppernob-less, bar-frame-less design, like the COWARDS they were—

Eight of this class were added to F.R. stock over the course of the 1860s. The preserved engines 20 and 25 are of this class, being of the six who were sold to Barrow Hematite Steel Company and rebuilt as saddletank engines between 1870-1873. The above picture shows one of the remaining two, No. 28, the youngest of its class.

The caption observes that 28 does not appear to have any lining. This would make No. 20's current paint job technically inaccurate, but who cares? She deserves it.

Here's a change of pace! There's a lot going on in this picture: a close-up of the tracks (TIL that this is called inside-keyed track), a flatbed, a little old tar tanker, some cattle trucks, and a Sharp 0-4-0ST, presumably built in 1874.

The caption claims that there is a great mystery as to why the engine's buffer appears to carry the number 4 instead of 94, but I think the answer is pretty obvious. She deliberately lost the 9 so that she could pay tribute to her old friend and mentor No. 4, at this point only a couple of years scrapped and its number unceremoniously handed to some new-fangled 0-6-0 who didn't appreciate it.

There is a good bit of discussion (both published and internet) about whether 94 is carrying a special hose as firefighting equipment. I can shed no light on the matter but I certainly prefer to think that she is.

Because it's more fun that way.

A 2-4-0 for ya! No. 58, est. 1871. There seem to me to be several questionable claims in the caption: 1) This is the only place I've seen it claimed that the Bury 0-4-0s were anywhere near regular passenger traffic as late as 1871 (I think RA just forgot the 2-2-2WTs existed), and 2) Given the mention of a new locomotive shed nearby (hey wait is this the same one whose roof D5714 would torch 60+ years later? lol but i'm really asking), I would not be so fast to assume 58 was awaiting shunting duty rather than a passenger train.

I'm going to go ahead and assume this source is right about everything, though. Laughing at the bit that's like yeah, you might think ol' 58 here looks to be in pretty fine nick, but if this were in Scotland in the same era the smokebox hinge and buffers would ALSO be burnished. Just sayin'!

This is an 0-6-0 "Sharpie" from 1866. I don't have much else to say that the caption doesn't: They're cuties, and the location here is close to the original Barrow station (which is where passengers used to have to terminate, before they built Barrow Central).

Below, for our final exhibit, is a map. Study carefully. There will be a test.

... I was lying, pfftttt. My eyes start swimming in my head the moment I examine it.

#real true railway stuff #furness engines #the furness series

[ebaeschnbliah]

It was a cold grey day near the end of December. The East Wind was streaming through the bare branches of the trees, and seething in the dark pines on the hills. Ragged clouds were hurrying overhead, dark and low. As the cheerless shadows of the early evening began to fall the Company made ready to set out.

They were to start at dusk ...

... for Elrond counselled them to journey under cover of night as often as they could, until they were far from Rivendell.

`You should fear the many eyes of the servants of Sauron,' he said. 'I do not doubt that news of the discomfiture of the Riders has already reached him, and he will be filled with wrath. Soon now his spies on foot and wing will be abroad in the northern lands. Even of the sky above you must beware as you go on your way.'

The Company took little gear of war, for their hope was in secrecy not in battle. Aragorn had Andúril but no other weapon, and he went forth clad only in rusty green and brown. as a Ranger of the wilderness. Boromir had a long sword, in fashion like Andúril but of less lineage and he bore also a shield and his war-horn.

'Loud and clear it sounds in the valleys of the hills,' he said, `and then let all the foes of Gondor flee!' Putting it to his lips he blew a blast, and the echoes leapt from rock to rock, and all that heard that voice in Rivendell sprang to their feet.

Slow should you be to wind that horn again, Boromir, said Elrond. 'until you stand once more on the borders of your land, and dire need is on you.'

`Maybe,' said Boromir. 'But always I have let my horn cry at setting forth, and though thereafter we may walk in the shadows, I will not go forth as a thief in the night.'

Gimli the dwarf alone wore openly a short shirt of steel-rings, for dwarves make light of burdens; and in his belt was a broad-bladed axe. Legolas had a bow and a quiver, and at his belt a long white knife. The younger hobbits wore the swords that they had taken from the barrow; but Frodo took only Sting; and his mail-coat, as Bilbo wished, remained hidden. Gandalf bore his staff, but girt at his side was the elven-sword Glamdring, the mate of Orcrist that lay now upon the breast of Thorin under the Lonely Mountain.

All were well furnished by Elrond with thick warm clothes, and they had jackets and cloaks lined with fur. Spare food and clothes and blankets and other needs were laden on a pony, none other than the poor beast that they had brought from Bree.

The stay in Rivendell had worked a great wonder of change on him: he was glossy and seemed to have the vigour of youth. It was Sam who had insisted on choosing him, declaring that Bill (as he called him) would pine, if he did not come.

`That animal can nearly talk,' he said, `and would talk, if he stayed here much longer. He gave me a look as plain as Mr. Pippin could speak it: if you don't let me go with you, Sam, I'll follow on my own.' So Bill was going as the beast of burden, yet he was the only member of the Company that did not seem depressed.

Their farewells had been said in the great hall by the fire, and they were only waiting now for Gandalf, who had not yet come out of the house. A gleam of firelight came from the open doors, and soft lights were glowing in many windows. Bilbo huddled in a cloak stood silent on the doorstep beside Frodo. Aragorn sat with his head bowed to his knees; only Elrond knew fully what this hour meant to him. The others could be seen as grey shapes in the darkness.

Sam was standing by the pony, sucking his teeth, and staring moodily into the gloom where the river roared stonily below; his desire for adventure was at its lowest ebb.

`Bill, my lad,' he said, `you oughtn't to have took up with us. You could have stayed here and eat the best hay till the new grass comes.' Bill swished his tail and said nothing.

JRR Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, The Fellowship of the Ring, The Ring goes South

#the lord of the rings #the fellowship of the ring #the ring goes south #jrr tolkien #the fellowship #leaving rivendell #elrond #gandalf #frodo #sam #bill the pony #merry #pippin #aragorn #arwen #boromir #legolas #gimli #movie pics #peter jackson

[infinity2020corner]

A long time ago (😅) I was tagged into a fic game by @wildermoments, thank you for the thought! 💙

Rules: Post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to AO3. (Sort by date posted.) If you have fewer than 10 fics posted, post what you have.

1. This was getting ridiculous. 

2. Nervous as he looked, the young butler welcoming the Royal Household to Downton Abbey was a sight for the sore, yet always observant eyes of Richard Ellis. 

3. Thomas prowled forward.

4. In the course of his frequent travels with the Royal entourage, Richard Ellis had witnessed his fair share of lovely views and magnificent buildings; the Downton Abbey estate looming over them was, admittedly, rather impressive in its own right, not to mention involved in a remarkable amount of past scandals - if any of the rumours occasionally flying around were to be believed.

5. "Front doorbell, Mr Barrow."

6. He comes around slowly, to the faint sound of birds chirping, to a mild breeze tickling his naked skin, to the pleasant caress of the light filtering through the curtains.

7. Thomas woke up to an awfully dry mouth, a throbbing headache, and dramatically inclined to rethink most of his life choices. 

8. "Gotta say, mate, I'm chuffed you decided to move in," Chris told Richard as he drove them to his building.

9. It's early December when he comes into their clothing store for the first time, tall and dark-haired, with a purposeful stride full of grace any model would be envious of. 

10. Thomas stood proudly in the middle of the living room, looking around in quiet satisfaction. 

Tagging with no pressure @just-two-blokes @wildamongwolves @junkshop-disco and whoever else might be interested

#tag game #fic game #writing #fanfiction

[jabbage]

#Letters from Watson #lettersfromwatson

[just-two-blokes]

Small gestures - A Phyllis Baxter and Richard Ellis Friendship Fic

I needed a break from writing my multichapter Fic. So I've decided to change it up a bit by writing... Fic?

This Oneshot came to my mind on my way home from work today and I just had to write it down.

Short CW for references to Thomas' suicide attempts and conversion therapy.

--

The sound of soft footsteps on the hard stone stairs jolts Phyllis Baxter awake from her concentrated work at the sewing machine.

It is Boxing Day, and as the family has decided to spend it at Lady Rosamund Painswick's in London, and most of the servants have gone to see their family, the house is strangely empty and quiet

Apart from Ms. Baxter, only the butler of the house is still present, but he has announced that he is expecting visitors today and will therefore not show his face so often.

In fact, Thomas has holed himself up in his office right after noon, and when Phyllis returned from her midday walk, she noticed that a very familiar man's jacket was hanging on the servants' coat rack.

A jacket that usually only hangs there when a certain royal valet 'happens' to be passing through and swoops in over the threshold of Downton Abbey without warning.

A jacket which Phyllis has seen hanging conspicuously often on this wardrobe in recent days.

And its owner, with whom Phyllis has had many interesting and, above all, enlightening conversations over the past few days.

Conversations about the butler of the house. About his feelings and his needs.

And if Phyllis has realised anything during these conversations, it is that Thomas Barrow is in good hands with this man.

As if to confirm her thoughts, soft footsteps from the stairs now approach the servants' hall and as Phyllis turns towards the door, she cannot prevent a faint grin from stealing onto her face.

Richard Ellis, his hair unusually dishevelled, his clothes suspiciously rumpled against his body, stands in the doorway, a mischievous grin on his face and a huge bunch of yellow tulips in his hand.

'Good afternoon, Ms Baxter. It's good to see you.' Surprised, Phyllis just stares at him for a few seconds before a loving smile creeps onto her face as well.

'I can say the same to you, Mr. Ellis. It's always nice to have a friendly face to visit.'

Mr. Ellis's grin widens just a touch, but before he can say anything in reply, Phyllis's eyes fall on the bouquet of tulips in his hand. 'Oh, these are lovely. I suppose you bought them for Mr. Barrow?'

In the silence that follows, something changes in the room. Just now happy and carefree, there is a heaviness in the air that she has never felt in the presence of Richard Ellis.

Mr. Ellis' smile drips from his face like water from a smooth surface and he suddenly doesn't seem like his usual, confident self.

Instead, he suddenly seems incredibly nervous, almost like a schoolboy who has to bring home a bad grade to his parents.

Mr. Ellis carefully clears his throat and nervously plays with the buttons of his half-buttoned shirt.

'The tulips are not for Mr. Barrow. The tulips are for you, Ms. Baxter.'

For a few seconds Phyllis thinks she has misheard and the answer literally sticks in her throat.

But finally Richard holds out his hand with the bouquet and Phyllis can't help but reach for it.

'May I ask what I have done to deserve this honour?'

Mr. Ellis lowers his gaze and when he raises it again to look her in the eye, his eyes seem suspiciously glassy. But when he finally clears his throat and begins to speak, his voice sounds strong and composed.

'I love Thomas. I love him like I have never loved anyone before. And sometimes I wonder how I deserve to have this wonderful, brave, funny and beautiful man in my life.

Thomas has told me many things about his life, you know. About his experience with 'Choose your own Path' and about the darkest hour in his life. And he also mentioned that there was one person who stood by him during those times. Without expectation of anything in return. Without prejudice.

Without dislike and without judging him for it.

And in the last few days I have realised that the only reason I can brag to my parents about being able to call this inconceivable man my lover is right here in front of me.'

Phyllis' throat feels dry as dust and her heart swells at the thought of the unconditional love Richard must feel for Thomas.

Richard clears his throat again. 'You were there for him when I couldn't. You saved his life and gave me the chance to know him. To love him. And I don't know how I can ever thank you for that.'

The tulips in her hand must be all crushed by now, the way Phyllis tightens her grip around the stems. For a short while she just stares at Richard, her eyes wide and an incredulous smile on her face.

But eventually her features soften again and she gives Richard Ellis a loving look.

'You just have to love him. That's thanks enough.'

--

Actually, Phyllis has decided to put the tulips on the table in the servants' quarters, but when she goes to her room that evening, she notices that the tulips are nicely arranged in a glass vase outside her bedroom door.

Next to the vase is a small note, unmistakably written in Thomas' tight and neat handwriting.

'It doesn't say much for Moseley if he can't even manage to be the first man to give you flowers. You are welcome to take them to your room, they are yours after all. And don't worry, my room is also full of bouquets of roses. If this goes on, I don't know where to put the rest either.'

Phyllis can't help falling asleep with a satisfied grin on her lips, knowing that the butler of the house a few corridors away will also sleep well.

#Phyllis Baxter #Richard Ellis #Thomas Barrow #thomas barrow x richard ellis

[birdofdawning]

The Door in the Wall

Mother was making jam with Betsy and listening out for the shop bell, and she thought Charles was watching Helena playing in the yard. But Charles had gone upstairs to read Fun, and Freddy and Frank were at school, and so nobody noticed when Helena slipped the latch off the gate and crept out into the back lane — something she knew she was forbidden to do.

She trotted down the track, thinking how funny it was to see the back of everything. Mr Munday’s haberdashery, and the decorator’s shop, and the tobacconist’s were all so formal and tidy from the front — but from the back! Why there was a broken wheel barrow beside a gate, and the remains of what looked like a broken chair waiting beside the dust bins; and over the fence here was the sickly plane tree that the Mowatt children would sit in and shout out at Helena and her brothers as they passed by.

At the end of the lane Helena stopped and considered. Should she turn right and pass the corner shop into the High Street? But memories of a previous encounter with the sullen keeper of ‘Wallace – Decorators’ came to her then, and she decided to turn left.

Down she walked along an empty side street, until she stopped to fill the pockets of her coat with horse chestnuts from an overhanging tree. And when she stood back up she saw, across the way, the green door in the wall.

The sun had come out, and it illuminated a clean white wall so brightly after the previous gloom that Helena had to squint a little. The door was small and bottle green, and a scarlet creeper grew around it. And it wanted her to open it.  

Now, Helena was never the sort of child who could not do a thing she knew she oughtn’t. Indeed, she quite made her mother despair at times, and no wonder! If there was an odd piece of glass laying in the street Helena must pick it up and play with the light it threw. And if a music box or a fob watch or any sort of useful device was left unguarded she would have it opened up and in pieces before its careless owner remembered and came back for it. Her mother would always try to intercept and assess for suitability each of the books and periodicals that Helena’s father would bring home; otherwise the girl would have carried it away to her small room in the attic, and her brothers would have to conduct periodic raids in order to capture reading material for themselves.

So when this door called out to her — not aloud, you understand, but as a sort of whisper inside — Helena walked straight across the street and up to it. Unlike most of the buildings around, the door was clean and bright, as if it had been painted only last week. It had a bronze latch with the face of a leopard or lioness on it, and it was just within reach if she stood on her very tip toes. It lifted easily, as if freshly oiled, and the door drifted open without the least push, inviting Helena to step through.

And — Oh! how wonderful! — instead of a grey autumn day it was warm, with a clear dark blue sky filled with the amber light of evening, and a few stars already lit in the heavens. And instead of dusty Bromley with its shops and roads she found herself in a park of great trees, with grass and little paths and a fountain in the distance. She could smell roses, for nearby there were bowers covered in them as if it were spring! And close by she could hear children calling to each other and laughing.

She stepped through, saying “O, lovely!” as she regarded the beautiful garden around her, and behind her the door softly latched itself shut.

For a short time Helena wandered in the direction of the children. The air was so balmy, and, she felt, somehow heavy; so much so that she was tempted to take off her coat. But one thing Mother had managed to teach to her youngest child was to never take off her coat among strangers, for what would people think?

And as the light faded — though she had only had her lunch an hour ago, she was sure — to her delight the trees nearest the path lit up with tiny lights, like fireflies, so that she could still see where she was going.

The path went around a hedge and suddenly opened up into a great meadow, and there she saw the children. They were some distance away running after some sort of device that hovered in the air, moving to and fro like a great bumblebee and humming like one too. And they wore hooded tunics — just like Robin Hood’s Merry Men had in an illustrated periodical she had once read — and heavy britches like a labourer, only dyed blue. 

Only as Helena was about to go to the children she heard a whistle and turned to see a very pretty girl standing further along the path. She was dressed all in tattered clothes, like a boy's clothes, so that she looked like she had just stepped down from the Stage. And her hair was cut short like a boy's too, and it was lighted up like a fire as it caught the last rays of the sun. And the girl smiled at Helena and came to meet her, holding out her hand, and saying Well! I think you look like our visitor, here at last! — just as if she’d known Helena had been coming, and was pleased to see her. So they held hands and walked through the wonderful gardens, talking about all sorts of things (though afterwards she couldn’t remember quite what they discussed), until they came to a sort of summer house, like the bandstand in Bromley park.

And standing inside was the most beautiful lady Helena had ever seen. She had hair like burnished copper, and it was down, coiling in waves around her face. And her eyes were large and green, like glass, but so alive and welcoming! And then she gave such a big smile that Helena decided there and then that she would do anything to make this lady happy.

Then the lady stepped out of the summer house to meet them, and she was wearing trousers! But not shapeless trousers that fell like a sack to one’s shoes like Father and Frank and Freddie wore — no, these were shaped and curved so as to show the lady’s long, graceful legs. And, though she knew that such a thing ought to be very wicked, Helena just couldn’t think of this lady as anything but so very good. And right then Helena decided that when she was grown up she would wear trousers too, and she wouldn’t mind what Mother should say.

The lady had been speaking to the pretty girl, and now she turned and smiled again at Helena and said Hallo, and that she thought perhaps she knew Helena’s mother. So Helena said “My mother’s name is Sarah Wells, and my name is Helena Georgina Wells” and the lady was very still for a moment, but then she held out her hand and invited Helena to sit with her in the summer house.

They were quite alone now, and the lady brought out a slate, like one would use for doing sums or accounts, only it was made of glass. And the lady said What sort of animal would you most like to see in all the world? and Helena said “I would like to see a jaguar, please!” and the lady asked the slate to show them a jaguar and there it was! Not drawn in chalk, but a real, actual, moving jaguar creeping though the jungle and down into a river. And after that the lady asked Helena what she’d like to see next, and Helena said “A crocodile!” and there it was in the slate, a crocodile drifting through brown water toward an unsuspecting zebra that was drinking at the river’s edge. And they saw a secretary bird, and a polar bear, and a gorilla — because Charles was so scared of gorillas and Helena wanted to tell him that she’d actually seen one and hadn’t been scared a jot! “But how does it work?” Helena asked, turning the slate over and over and examining it with a frown, and the lady laughed and said that she promised Helena would find out one day.

And now it was quite dark outside, with the only light coming from an old lamp hanging from the ceiling, and from the magical slate. And Helena suddenly thought of Mother wondering where she was, and sending her brothers out to find her. So she decided that she’d better say Thank-you for Having Me and I Had A Lovely Time. Only she wasn't sure how to get back to the green door.

Then the lady said that she needn’t worry. Soon Helena would be back home, because this wonderful garden, and the summerhouse and the lady and everything, only existed while the lamp above them burned; and that it was almost out of oil and when the flame died all would be back as it ought to be. And Helena said “But that sounds like real magic! And I don’t think I believe in real magic. Father says it’s just superstition and humbug.” And the lady smiled again and told her that nevertheless the lamp had a special property, like an enchanted device in a tale of Arthur, and this property was that when you lit this lamp in this gazebo the person you most wanted to meet would come to you for a time. “Oh, but then who lit the lamp?” asked Helena, and the very beautiful lady said that she herself had. And Helena said “But that means that I am the person you most wanted to see!” Then the lady looked sad (though she still smiled) and said Yes, she supposed Helena was the person she most wanted to see. Only now it was time to say goodbye, though perhaps Helena would see her again one day.

Now Helena was the sort of person who tended to hold herself apart from others, so she wasn’t sure why she did what she did next, but before she knew it her arms were around the beautiful lady, and the lady held her tight too until Helena was done. Then from her pocket she took a bag that was like foil-paper, only it was a lovely violet colour instead of silver, and she carefully lifted down the little lamp and said Are you ready to go home Helena? And Helena was about to say “No! I think I would rather stay!” when there was a flurry of sparks like fireworks on bonfire night and a strange whistling in her ears and she felt all dizzy and most unwell for a time.

And when she was aware of herself again she was standing in the Bromley side street, beside the old wall. And I am sad to say that she immediately burst into tears.

Eventually she made her way back up the side-street toward home, feeling bereft and so low. Then who should she see but her Mother trotting out of the lane towards her and looking most displeased! And as she was dragged back home (with her mother saying Gardens!? Ladies?! Jaguars?! My child you your head is being rotted away by those silly papers your Father brings home, I never-in-all-my-life, and so-on), Helena looked back toward the white wall. She saw the scarlet creeper as clear as anything, but would you believe — only no, I do you an injustice, you will have guessed already —  the lovely green door had quite disappeared.

Later she told Charles all about the green door and her adventure in the wonderful garden, and he laughed and teased her for more details, jeering like older brothers do, until Helena refused to speak of it again and went to bed very cross that no-one would believe her.

And she decided that one day, when she was a grown-up woman herself, she would find the very beautiful lady again, and they would wear trousers and have adventures together.

And her mind made up, Helena fell fast asleep.

(And here is what Charles made of her story many years later.)

#bering and wells #helena wells #myka bering #Warehouse 13 #helena x myka #A silly thing at 11pm #H G Wells (the real one) #The Door In the Wall (1906) #claudia donovan

[mousemousemoose]

I wanna start writing about the games I play so here's a little review on Clock Tower. "Review" in the sense of looking back on it, not in the sense of like. IGN 8.9/10.

I first played Clock Tower on an SNES emulator in middle school with friends. One of them said it was the scariest game he'd ever seen (watching it on YouTube instead of playing it himself). We'd hunch around a computer and sort of try to figure out how to play it. Now that I've played it myself in twenty twenty four, I can see why it was such an uphill battle.

I played the game (again with friends) at first blind, and after about an hour of trying and failing to grasp it I looked up a guide. Turns out, there are a bunch of intricate (and semi-random) systems in place that more-or-less obscure the path towards completing the game. Rooms that shift locations, items that might not be in the same place between playthroughs -- it's an interesting method to increasing playtime, but not something I think makes the game more engaging. I think the designers wanted the search for the true ending to require trial and error. But (in my mind) trial and error really only work if the results are deterministic, and the fact that they aren't makes playing the game multiple times confusing.

Despite the clunkiness of the gameplay (and not to mention the kind-of-thin story), Clock Tower nails presentation. The house is gorgeous and the sound design is probably my favorite from any game of its generation. The footstep echo and the scissor noises stand out especially. And the music! The music rules! I'm not knowledgeable enough with music stuff to know if it's technically impressive on the hardware, but I haven't played anything from this era that sounds anything like it. The only problem with the music is that it makes it too obvious when you're safe -- it only plays once scissorman isn't pursuing you, and so it's all too clear when you're safe.

Speaking of scissorman: he's the most engaging part of the game by far. His appearances are effectively shocking and his pursuit of Jennifer feels dangerous. At least, it feels dangerous until you realize you just need to mash the "panic" button on him and you can win pretty consistently. But some of his scares are brilliant. When he topples the doll in that weird mannequin room, or when he crashes through the ceiling in the garage -- it was cool and felt true to the horror movies that clearly inspired the game. One friend I was playing with agreed with me that it felt a lot like Suspiria, which is a cool movie and it's cool to play a game in the same vein (lo and behold, the game's director has said that Clock Tower was made in homage to Suspiria's director! Wow! Intertextuality!).

The game has some other 1990s game weirdness going on. Needing to stand still for health regeneration, bizarre actions you need to take to solve puzzles with seemingly obvious answers, but honestly (and I say this as someone who played with a guide) I found a lot of that stuff to be kind of charming in the way that a lot of old games are charming. I especially loved the character portraits and sprite CGs (made by digitizing photos of real people! that's so cool!). There's a sequence where Mrs. Barrows (one of the antagonists) lifts her face up to catch more shadows and look more menacing. It's only a three frame animation but it absolutely rocks. I feel a little bad for having played this game with a guide since, incidentally, playing with one meant I missed some content. However, I'm fairly certain I wouldn't have finished it without one thanks to my thin patience for unneeded slowness, something this game has in abundance. It was definitely worth the revisit, and I'll happily espouse the impact this game had on me as a kid. I'm excited to see what the upcoming remake ends up looking like, and if they'll change anything about the original.

If you made it to the end of this, thank you for reading! I'll probably do more of these going forward since I had fun with this one and it made me think more seriously about the game and how I felt about it.

edit: typo lol

#clock tower

[orsuliya]

Hollywood Husbands - sense and sensibility

As I come to appreciate my Colonels Brandons over my Willoughbys more and more with each passing year, I also find that my criteria for romantic ships have undergone drastic changes. These days I often catch myself looking at a canon-based ship that no amount of wild horses could have dragged me off just ten years ago and closely examining it for things other than sheer dramatic value and the oh-so-elusive chemistry. Ah, the joys of middle age!

Quite understandably, I found myself giving a rather thorough – I hope you’ll allow me this little bit of vanity – examination to the relationship between Thomas Barrow and Guy Dexter in all its canon, Downton Abbey 2: Tokyo Drift glory. Now, admittedly there hasn’t been a lot to actually examine, with their shared, relationship-relevant scenes amounting to measly 8 minutes or so. You’ll surely agree that this is not a very impressive number for a relationship that ends up in a decision as momentous as moving to another continent. On the other hand, 8 minutes could and should be considered a more than respectable amount when it comes to Thomas’ romantic interests over the course of the Downton Abbey movies.

The outcome is this: Thomas makes the choice to leave Downton Abbey and pursue a ‘working relationship’ with Mr. Dexter in Los Angeles. I think we can all agree that this is too major a decision to be made solely on the basis of lust and/or appreciation of the beauty of a man’s smile (and what a smile it is!).

Thomas makes a life-changing choice. But is it an informed one?

One thing cannot be denied – Guy Dexter certainly has no problem with taking the direct approach! Even as certain words remain unsaid, there is little doubt as to the fact that his proposition is a genuine romantic overture. I’d even call it a proposal – Thomas himself describes it as the nearest I’ve come to the offer of an honest way of life. But on what basis does he make his choice? What information does he have that makes him even remotely willing to consider such a thing?

For the purposes of clarity, I’ll be separating that information into two categories, depending on its source. The first batch is what Guy Dexter volunteers about himself, much of it directly related to his romantic overture. The second is what can be reasonably inferred about the man’s character from direct observation and second-hand accounts. Turns out? It adds up to a surprisingly respectable amount.

Mr. Dexter gives account of himself:

I don’t care. I’ve lived in America for ten years now. I don’t believe in that stuff anymore.

Frankly, my dears, Mr. Dexter does not give a damn… about being circumspect. Nor, in fact, does he give much of a one about social hierarchy. His attitude towards those two things should weight heavily in his favour, especially in the eyes of somebody like Thomas Barrow, a man who is remarkably brave when it comes to the first one and has always, always felt burdened by the second.

Let it be noted that Guy still makes sure that the door to the pantry remains closed. One could, at a stretch, call it hypocrisy, I call it an appropriate and healthy amount of caution and care. Let it also be noted that he reacts with neither shame nor guilt when caught downstairs by Daisy; why, he rather boldly announces his intention to seek conference with Mr. Barrow.

I don’t have a wife to look after me, so… you could do it.

Now, this is a bright green flag if I’ve ever seen one. Not the fact that he isn’t married, although that is something which Thomas no doubt finds very important, but that this information is freely volunteered. It can be further inferred that since Guy needs somebody to look after him, there is no long-term male partner in the picture either. Very proper and honourable of him to disclose his marital status, especially in the opening salvo. He is thus able to offer Thomas a fair and equitable arrangement between the two of them without the need to consult and/or involve any third parties.

I’d be your valet? More than that. You’d run the house and organize our journeys.

While following a man to a different country with no guarantee of, well, pretty much anything except love may be foolhardy, this is absolutely not the case here. When and if Thomas decides to move to America, there will be a house and an occupation already waiting for him. The latter of which doubles as a way to ensure his safety by giving him a publicly acceptable reason to live in the same house and accompany Guy on his travels, something that we know he is especially interested in. The basis of this arrangement seems similar to what Thomas tried to pursue with Philip back in season 1, but the exact power dynamic and the scope of the arrangement itself is quite different, as would be Thomas’ much higher position in the household. There is one more promise concealed here; after all you don’t give rein over your house and life to a fling. This is a serious decision that implies a strong hope for a long-term, stable relationship.

To pre-empt any questions about Thomas’ fate should the relationship fail, I’d like to point out that he is in possession of actual marketable skills, to which the title of a Real British Butler to Earl So-and-So would lend a certain (and monetizable) cachet. If that doesn’t work out? I’ve looked it up and transatlantic travel, though dear, was more than affordable on Thomas’ probable salary and savings. Why, he might even be able to travel with class!

Make me comfortable. Make us both comfortable.

And here we’ve got the first use of we, my-my, how forward of you, Mr. Dexter! And seriously, this line serves as a declaration of Guy’s intention to share and use his resources – whatever they might be at any given moment – for both of their benefit. True, any sharing of such resources would be on voluntary basis since Thomas wouldn’t have a legal claim on any of it… but neither would Guy be able to claim any resources that Thomas may bring with him or gain in the future.

Of course, if my career folds, then we’d have to think again, but…

Of course, if Guy’s career folds, they’d have to rethink this star-and-his-assistant ruse, that’s more than understandable. What is promising is that, going by Guy’s language, Thomas is going to be included in the decision-making process. What is even more promising is that Guy isn’t trying to pull wool over Thomas’ eyes by painting a picture of a perfect fairytale. It’s not a throwaway line either – they’ve already had a conversation about this scenario. Thomas may choose to treat Guy’s warning with a grain of salt, but it was made all the same. No gross misrepresentation of one’s financial prospects to be found here! Well… you let me know when you’ve… come to a decision.

Guy has made his move and now he’s exiting the scene, stage left, leaving Thomas ample time to process and consider his offer on its own merits. No pressure nor any alternative means of persuasion are applied at any point; the only thing that does happen is a largely innocent straightening of Thomas lapels (Rape of the Lock it is not) and if this offer has a date of expiration, it is only because of external factors – after all, the film crew will be leaving at some point. Is Thomas left reeling? Of course, who wouldn’t be. He has also just been afforded a great deal of agency; the ball is fully in his court.

And he doesn’t even need to ask for time, whether verbally or by acting hesitant – it is given to him unconditionally. Whatever his answer – and there is no outright assumption that it will be positive – he will be giving it on his own terms and in his own time.

It can mean as little or as much as you like.

Thomas is once again afforded a great deal of agency. Guy Dexter does not keep sex slaves nor, presumably, slaves of any other kind. As far as Guy is concerned, the exact terms of their relationship are something that Thomas should absolutely have control over. Following Thomas’ question – and note that it’s Thomas who is reopening the negotiations, with Guy’s previous remark being just that, a remark – Guy could have simply said yes. It wouldn’t have been a further imposition nor a change to the understood terms of the proposed agreement, simply a confirmation of what Thomas has already surmised. And yet.

I'’d say you've spent long enough [standing].

Don'’t call me "sir."

I don’t think that either of the above quotes needs much comment.

Mr. Barrow, as befits a proper English butler, sees all:

He must have seen – as he’d been present in the room on both occasions – how deftly Guy maneuvers himself into the spotlight, giving his best Guy Dexter: Movie Star performance. His best and more, as he needs to compensate for Myrna and Jack Barber, the former of which their hosts seems to find abrasive and uncouth, while the latter isn't taking his role as the head of this whole filming enterprise all that seriously, what with his initial absence and then his antagonistic comments. In fact, with the exception of the Pelhams, nobody upstairs is putting much effort into socialising on that first afternoon and evening.

He must have also seen that Guy Dexter: Movie Star is just that, a performance, perhaps as soon as the library scene. The moment Guy understands that his glib comment left Thomas startled and perhaps even discomfited, he steps back and corrects himself at once in the most polite, kind way possible. Now, I wonder how many other guests over the years were that sensitive to Thomas’ feelings? And of those, how many apologized for overstepping and offered Thomas his sincere thanks? I’m not saying that this number is zero. I’m also not not saying that.

In fact, being polite, kind and gregarious seems to be Guy’s default setting when in company. And the class and relative social position of said company seems to have very little effect on his level of engagement, as shown in that charming little scene where Thomas comes upon Guy holding court with the extras and Downton staff right in the middle of the hall. Then he gives further proof of his egalitarianism and/or working class roots by asking Thomas about his history in service, doing so in a way that in no way implies any inferiority of that career path to his own. It does, however, indicate genuine interest, a point that is later reiterated with I’ve just been thinking how much more interesting this great house is than our silly little film.

If one pays close attention to the filming scenes, it becomes impossible to ignore the way in which Guy interacts with Myrna, also in the background. He provides support when needed – she keeps very close to him when forced to socialise – and makes sure that she gets credit where credit is due by pulling her back into the room for that final round of applause. Thomas may not be very interested in the filming process, but come on, over however many weeks the filming crew spent in Downton he would have seen enough. What’s interesting is that there seems to be no correlation between Myrna’s behaviour and Guy’s kindness.

In fact, it really seems like being kind is simply Guy’s thing and very little – if anything – is likely to ruffle his feathers. No matter how insecure and fearful of the future he may truly be – which is a considerable amount going by his conversation with Thomas on the merits of old film stars in this new reality where talkies are a thing – he doesn’t take it out on anybody.

And last, but not least, we also know that Downton staff – and Mrs. Hughes in particular – like him quite a bit, which surely has to count for something in Thomas’ eyes.

The long-awaited and terribly subjective conclusion:

Colonel Brandons and Willoughbys aside, I think that we can say without a shade of a doubt that Thomas Barrow did not want for sufficient information to base his final decision on. Especially when we consider the minuscule amount of screentime afforded to this relationship and its development. Guy Dexter makes Thomas Barrow what amounts to a marriage proposal and gives an accounting of himself that is wholly adequate to the occasion. No missing scenes needed. Probable, well, the movie plays out over the course of four to six weeks; welcome, oh yes; being industriously plotted out in our evil little heads, absolutely. Eight minutes of shared scenes? *shakes her head in disbelief*

Now, whether you regard Thomas’ final choice as the right one or not – and that is before taking into account the historical realities, one’s personal interpretation of Thomas Barrow’s character arc and the Word of Fellowes – there is one thing that needs to be said. There are no text-supported red flags attached to Guy Dexter and his courtship of Thomas Barrow. Not a one. And that does, above all else, speak to me of a true possibility of a happy ending.

As for any perceived chemistry as well as Dominic West’s acting chops, well, I won’t bore you with my opinion on that. It would require – and is a matter for – another meta, a very different one at that.

And now, on a more personal note: I am an old woman these days, old and perhaps a little bit pragmatic, and while still very prone to flights of romantic fancy, those have, as of late, taken on a distincly Austenian flavour. From this position I shall say only that I, for one, based solely on its merits, would give such an offer the consideration it surely deserves.

#I saw a ship and I liked it! #downton abbey a new era #thomas barrow #guy dexter #hollywood husbands #dexmas

[specialagentlokitty]

Thomas Barrow x Sister!reader - the best big brother

Hi, do you want to write about Thomas Barrows little sister? One day his little sister (maybe Teen Reader) comes to Downton because she needs a place to stay and some comfort from her brother? - Anon💜

You didn’t have anywhere to go, you had spent nearly a year just going from place to place, trying to figure something out, and eventually you found yourself standing at the side door of the large building, nervously waiting for someone to open the door.

It opened and a man looked at you, and he smiled softly.

“Yes, May I help you?”

“I… Uhm… I’m looking for Thomas Barrow…” you whispered.

“Is there any reason for your visit?” He asked.

“I… I just need to see him…”

He nodded his head and looked around.

“Give me a few minutes, I will fetch Mr Carson for you.”

You nodded and you watched as the door closed.

You debated leaving, maybe you shouldn’t have come, maybe you should just leave before you bothered anyone.

You went to turned around and the door quickly opened so you turned around again.

“I take it you are the young lady searching for Thomas?” He asked.

“Yes sir…”

“What is the purpose of this visit, he is a busy man.”

You opened your mount and quickly closed it again.

“Sorry I shouldn’t have come.”

Picking up your case, you turned around and rushed down the steps.

“(Y/N)?”

You froze, and set your case down and turned around again.

“(Y/N) why are you here?”

Thomas pushed past the man at the door.

“Thomas!”

Thomas said nothing and he stood in front of you and you looked away.

“What happened?” He asked quietly.

“I… I cannot stay there Thomas…”

You clenched your jaw, trying to fight back your tears.

Thomas looked around and he picked up your case.

“Follow me.”

You nodded and trailed behind you, he led you into a hallway, spoke quietly with someone and she led you both into a separate room.

She stood with her arms crossed while your brother sat you down and he sat in front of you.

“How did you get here?” He asked.

“Train…”

“How long have you been travelling?”

You looked up at Thomas.

“On and off for a year up and down the country…” you whispered.

“A year?!”

You looked at the woman and nodded your head.

“I wasn’t sure as to what to do… so I just kept travelling… I finally decided to come here but that was a mistake I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

You stood up and Thomas took your hand, looking at you.

“Sit down.”

You slowly sat down again.

“When was the last time you ate?” He asked.

“A few days ago…”

“Right I’ll bring her some food and tea, Thomas stay here with her.”

Thomas nodded his head and when the door closed he immediately looked to you.

“What happened? I thought you were with father?”

“Father is not a nice man…”

Thomas sighed slightly, nodding his head and he stood up, holding his arm out to you and you looked at him.

“Come on then. Its been years since I last saw you.”

Getting up you went to hug him and Thomas noticed the way you hesitated, seemingly unsure about what to do.

“You know I would never hurt you right? You’re my little sister.”

“I know…”

You walked over and softly hugged him, and he hugged you back, placing a hand on the back of your head as he sighed.

“I should have brought you with me, but you were too young to work, and I would never be able to afford a place for us.”

“It’s not your fault Thomas…”

“It is. I should never have left you in that house with him. I promise everything will be okay now.”

You nodded and hugged him a little tightly and Thomas smiled a little.

“God I missed you…” he whispered.

The door opened, and Thomas looked up but he didn’t move from the hug, and neither did you.

“I will set this right here, and Thomas?”

“Mrs Hughes?”

“There’s an opening for a new housemaid.” She smiled.

Thomas nodded his head and she left.

Thomas sat you down, and he made sure you ate all of the food that was brought through for you, and drank the tea that was made for you.

You told him everything that had happened since he had left, and he carefully listened.

“I see, so you’ve been travelling since?” He asked.

You nodded your head.

“I actually joined a travelling circus for a few months, that was rather interesting.”

“A travelling circus?”

“They needed a new seamstress and I needed money.” You said.

Thomas nodded and gestured for you to follow him, so you did.

He carried the trays back through and you carefully watched him curious, and he led you back to the door you came through and he pulled out a cigarette.

“Thomas!” You scolded.

“What? It’s not like it’s going to killer me any faster than slaving away will.” He said.

You shook your head at him and he looked down at you, blowing some smoke out the door.

“Do you need a job now?”

“I suppose so, I was going to go back to the circus.”

“Absolutely not. You will be a housemaid here. You’ll have a room, steady pay, and I can keep an eye on you. It is long hours but at least you’ll have a roof over your head and food.”

“I won’t be a bother?”

“You are never a bother you silly girl. Come here.”

You walked over and he hugged you again, placing his hand atop of your head, and you smiled, remembering that’s how he hugged you when you were children.

Thanks to your brother, you were able to get the job as a housemaid, and they all knew he was your brother, and they had questions.

A few weeks later as you were sat in the servants dining hall, you were confronted by William.

“So, what’s it like to have Thomas as a brother? Is he rude? Cruel?”

“William.” Mr Bates warned.

You looked at the older man before turning to William and you shook your head.

“No. Thomas is a good brother, he takes care of me, he protects me.”

“I find that rather hard to believe.” Mr Carson said.

You quickly stood up and when he sat down the rest of you sat down again.

“Thomas Barrow is a cruel and bitter man. No offence.” He said.

“But he’s not Mr Carson. My brother may come across as that sometimes but he always looked after me. He taught me to read and to write, we played game as children.”

You smiled a little as you remembered the memories.

“Thomas is a good brother. I love my brother.”

“And that is all that matters, as long as he cares for you and he looks out for you.” Mr Bates smiled.

“Stop harassing her with your invasive questions.”

You looked up and Thomas walked past, placing his hand on your head as he stood behind you, picking up the book you were reading he nodded his head for you to follow him.

“Excuse me.”

You stood up and trialed after him outside and you both sat on the steps.

Thomas lit his cigarette and set the book on the step next to your feet.

“Ignore them, they’re simply just trying to get to you.” He said.

“I couldn’t care what they think about you Thomas.”

“Oh really?”

You smiled softly up at him.

“You’re my brother, I love you regardless because you are my light in the dark, you are my safe place. I do not care what others think, as long as I have my brother it’s okay.”

Thomas smiled softly at you.

“No one will ever hurt you again while I’m around, okay?”

“I know.”

He nodded his head and pulled something out of his pocket and you looked at it.

“A biscuit!”

“Shush! Don’t tell anyone, pinched it from the kitchen for you. They won’t know.”

“Thank you Thomas.”

Splitting it in half, you gave him one half and you ate the other half.

“Thomas?” You asked.

“Hm?”

“Are you busy?”

“No, not for at least another hour, why?”

You smiled at him.

“Will you dance with me again? Like we did when we were children?”

Thomas laughed, shaking his head as he dotted out his cigarette and he stood up, pulling you up with him.

“Just this one time, I have a reputation to keep up you know.”

“Ah yes, the cruel footman I know.”

He smirked a little and he held his hands out and you took them so you could both dance at the bottom of the steps.

Thomas had always wondered about you, there wasn’t a day that went past that he didn’t think about his younger sister and what had happened to her.

And now, seeing you here smiling, nearly all grown up he couldn’t be more proud of you.

You had come a long way, and you were still improving as the days went on, building your confidence back up, growing your smile and laughing more.

And that’s all he could ever hope for, his litter sister to be happy, healthy and more importantly safe

#Downton abbey #downton abbey x reader #Downton abbey x you #Downton abbey imagine #Thomas Barrow #Thomas Barrow x reader #Thomas Barrow x you #Thomas Barrow imagine

[maggot-monger]

i was tagged by @leatafandom — thank you!! it was fun both to see your answers and to think about/look up mine <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

99. some day #100 will be posted but who knows when or what that will be lolol

2. What’s your total A03 word count?

395,538

3. What fandoms do you write for?

currently none; i'm doing original stuff only lately. however i have things on ao3 written for marvel (specifically the asgardian faction), downton abbey, what we do in the shadows, and of course most recently (and also least recently...i've come full circle) supernatural

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

seize the crown (wwdits, e)

friendly favors (wwdits, e)

judges of character (downton abbey, gen)

"mr barrow has the flu" (downton abbey, t)

thomas barrow and the power of friendship (downton abbey, t)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

yessss i love responding to comments!!! i appreciate them so much, and i love an opportunity to talk about my writing <3 i can understand why people might prefer not to, especially on a place like ao3 which is technically an archive, but i like the community feel of interacting with readers on there (and i love it when other authors reply to my comments so kind of a golden rule situation)

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

hm...technically the song remains the same (spn, t) has the least desirable endingbut imo passive (mcu, gen), which is entirely about grief and denial, is angstier despite "brother died" being a less dramatic problem than "stuck in eternal crushing hell isolation"

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

to me it's phantom fangs (wwdits, t), my little vampirism-as-trans-allegory project! it's a bit of a bummer at times but to me the ending is so happy <3

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

i haven't!

9. Do you write smut?

yee. although i'm never sure if i want to write smut lmao but it sure does happen a fair amount sometimes

10. Do you write crossovers?

it's not generally my thing, although i do enjoy heavy allusions. i do have at least one though!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i'm aware of (i have had art stolen though RIP)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes! although i'm not sure the translation is up anymore; it was a number of years ago

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

no...i'm curious about this but i'm not sure how it would go? but anyway no, at least not yet

14. What‘s your all-time favourite ship?

formally it's samifer because i got my fandom phd in this lol but who even knows in actuality tbh

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i'm soooo haunted by the last chapter of crimsonpeaknatural aka hollow's gate (spn, e). it is my longest fic on ao3 by far and is literally one chapter from done, i just can't bring myself to write the last ~7k. it is fully outlined. i know what happens in it. i just can't write it! why

i also started a michean fic over the summer that i really like but i doubt it'll ever be finished. at least i never posted any of that though :p

16. What’s your writing strengths?

imo characterization/perspective, atmosphere, and prose versatility. maybe pacing? i've gotten comments on that a few times but it's less of a self-observed strength

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

i don't know what plots are <3 also sometimes my prose wraps around to being a little too circular for its own good so that's both a strength and a weakness of mine lol.

tbh i'm also bad at killing my darlings, especially when it comes to scenes i'm obsessed with, unless i give myself a LONG time to edit. like, on the order of months

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i'm not really a fan of this as a reader and i prefer not to do it as a writer, but also i'm not going to knock it on principle because i do understand the appeal, especially to people who are writing primarily for themselves and are comfortable in both/all the languages they're including. it can be fun sometimes to see the differences between the language the dialogue and the translation gives (if they provide one) if the language is one i'm also familiar with.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

harry potter. y'know...what can you do lol it is what it is. i wrote the kind of dramione angst you'd expect of a person like me who was 13yo at the time

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

ohhhh i don't know. i had SO much fun writing poker face (spn, e) and i think it succeeds at doing everything i wanted it to do. this isn't an objective answer but i am genuinely very happy with that one so it is my answer atm!

no-pressure tagging @artoodeeblue, @fandom-space-princess, @quietwingsinthesky, and anybody else who would like to do this!

#tag games

[myrnadalgleish]

Thomas Barrow & Richard Ellis, and eclipses as a harbringer of change

Everything related to the moon is automatically related to Richard Ellis, right?

Eclipse is defined as an obscuring of the light from one celestial body by the passage of another between it and the observer or between it and its source of illumination. Here we will discuss lunar and solar eclipses with astrological meanings and real-life eclipses that happened closely to canon.

An eclipse of the sun happens when the moon moves between sun and earth, blocking out the sun's rays and casting a shadow on parts of earth. Total eclipse happens when the moon covers the sun completely. Lunar eclipses happen when earth positions itself between the sun and the moon, casting a shadow across the moon's surface.

For Barris Winter Fest's this week's theme, change and new beginnings ✨️ @barris-event-blog

The Sun & The Moon 🌙

Sun's path is the unifying symbol in astrology, since the other planets orbit around it. The sun is therefore related to what is ideal, fixed, relatively permanent and unchanging. It's also related to power, to kings and queens, to powerful or famous people, to rulership and governance. It also has been associated with ambition and purpose, and it represents clarity and direction.

In contrast to the symbolism of the sun, the moon has traditionally been more closely related to the realm of impermanence, as it is constantly waxing and waning. As servants, Thomas and Richard work in an industry of the past, but the world around them is changing constantly. Like Richard says it, "Fifty years ago, who'd have thought man could fly?".

The moon's method of illumination is more subtle, relying on reflected light. Indeed, the moon symbolizes things such as our inner feelings and desires, our shadow self, and things that we are yet to discover about ourselves. "When you're like me, Mr Carson, you have to read the signs as best you can because no one dares speak out" & "You just need to be a bit more circumspect in future, Mr Barrow".

Solar Eclipse 🌝

With all of this in mind – in an eclipse, the moon covers the sun. The moon, within all of its own symbolism, represents Thomas and Richard's relationship (the crescent fob as a promise of seeing each other again). The sun represents the status quo: Richard having a stable position requiring some kind of ambition to acquire and Thomas having his life center around serving the ruling class. But when they met, the moon covered the rational sun. Richard helped to sabotage the royal visit and Thomas slammed the door on an earl's face, both betraying the rich and famous. "It feels good to be two ordinary blokes".

The sun is also sometimes seen as a ruler judging us from above, and shadows (outside their many negative meanings) are seen as protection. What happens in the shadows is Turton's and kisses hidden in plain sight.

Eclipses are known for being major harbingers of change and often align with exciting new beginnings and twists of fate. Total solar eclipses are a rare event, but sometimes all the celestial bodies are aligned for true love to happen, perhaps?

June 29th, 1927 🌌

On June 29th, 1927, a total solar eclipse was visible from the British mainland soil for the first time in 203 years. R.A. Marriott describes: It caused nationwide excitement which included mass population movement to the towns, villages, moorlands and offshore waters of Wales and the North of England, and severely tested the country’s transport and communication systems.

Blue line displays maximum eclipse path. In York, 99.40% of the sun was covered at 5:24 in the morning. Downton Abbey would have experienced almost a total eclipse.

Railway companies encouraged people to travel to experience the eclipse. Though anyone who travelled might have ended disappointed. Totality only lasted 23 seconds, and very few were lucky too see it because of the cloudy weather. Sylvia Seeley writes:

The narrow belt of totality, only about 28 miles wide, swept accross England in a line to include parts of North Wales, Lancashire and Yorkshire. Thousands upon thousands of spectators were gathered at various centres in the line of totality, from one side of England to another, only to be greeted on the great day with a drenching and hopeless dawn of impenetrable clouds.

The royal visit is set on July 20th–22nd, 1927*. So around a month before Thomas and Richard met, a rare cosmic event symbolising change and new beginnings took place. 💖 I would assume at least some of the residents of Downton Abbey got out of bed early enough to stand outside in dark and rain. Did Thomas bother, I don't know. Richard probably was still in London, experiencing much the same. Or maybe he was already on the Yorkshire tour, with some Giggleswick luck? The summer of 1927 is one of the rainiest on the record, by the way. Since it was perfectly sunny for the parade in Downton, I'd expect the clouds cleared everywhere the king step foot in.

Wet and depressing athmosphere also mentioned in the final page of Dorothy L. Sayers' 1927 novel Unnatural Death:

As the gate clanged open to let them out, they stepped into a wan and awful darkness. The June day had risen long ago, but only a pale and yellowish gleam lit the half-deserted streets. And it was bitterly cold and raining.

“What is the matter with the day?” said Wimsey. “Is the world coming to an end?”

“No,” said Parker, “it is the eclipse.”

*This is debatable, I think! The month July as far as I know comes from Edith's line about giving birth in March. It wouldn't be a big stretch to think the movie was actually set in June. I do like the eclipse better as an omen for a twist of fate, but if you'd like to think them going eclipse gazing right after the visit, it's technically possible!

Dancing Partners 🌔

If you had asked me just a few days ago, which one, Thomas or Richard, I would associate with the sun, I would've said Richard. But I've got it all wrong! Obviously the guy standing in a dark street talking about moonbeam fairies is the moon.

Some of the the Sun's traits, like positivity and confidence, I would hand over to Richard. But other than that, he reminds me of the moon. The moon is hidden, and then it isn't. Slowly we see more of it, one part coming out of the shadow after another, but then it starts disappearing again, and we doubt if we ever knew him at all. He can quite literally fool you with his voice, and seems different every time you look at him, adapting into every moment gracefully. As said before, the sun represents clarity. I wouldn't call Richard a lunatic, but his actions may seem... more on the side of the moon, sometimes.

Thomas might not always be the sense of reason either, but he has some of the sun's traits. (And he likes the sun!). In the movie, unlike the subtle moon, he says openly what he means with an expressive face. Mr Ellis – the Moon – is certainly more circumspect (or so he says!). The sun is symbolic of action and intesity, while the moon is of passivity and thought. Our Sun's slamming doors and dancing and getting upset about it, but both times Richard's been there to listen and mysteriously solve things.

Sun and moon being in love relies on the concept of opposites attracting, and I actually see Thomas and Richard as quite similar. And I do keep seeing Richard as the sun too. (With many moon-like qualities in Thomas as well). I'd love to hear your insights if you have them!

The sun and the moon being romantic partners is not my idea. Legend says that they have always been in love, but that they could never be together, because the moon rises at sunset and the sun just at dawn. Eclipse was created as proof that there is no impossible love. In 1844, Jean Jacques Grandville published a drawing of the sun and the moon kissing during an eclipse. A french film from 1907 with sexual themes shows a romantic encounter between the sun and the moon during an eclipse. Some have seen it as an early example as homosexuality in film.

And not to get too meta, but! The most important thing when we think of the relationship of sun and moon is that the moon reflects the light of the sun. We know only very little of Richard, and so many of our own headcanons rely on what we think would be fitting or interesting for Thomas. Thus we only see the moon in the sun's light.

Lunar Eclipse 🌚

In astrology, the moon is the banner bearer for things that come to be and pass away. Canonically speaking, Thomas' and Richard's relationship didn't last a very long time. It is sad, but I think something positive I got from the break-up it's maybe the thought that good things don't have to be forever. Like a total eclipse happens rarely and doesn't last a long time, it can be a life-changing moment.

While solar eclipses often bring new beginnings, lunar eclipses are more likely to bring about sudden endings, conclusions, or powerful changes of heart. That way we could think solar eclipse as a symbol for the start and a lunar eclipse as the end (or an unpermanent distruption) of their relationship.

Lunar eclipse is less of a spectacular event too. The moon either darkens or turns reddish or brown colour. They can be viewed by anyone on the night side of the earth and they can last nearly two hours, so they aren't as rare as solar eclipses. On average, a total lunar eclipse can be seen from any given location every 2.5 years.

Total lunar eclipses happened four times in a row on June 15th, 1927; December 8th, 1927; June 3rd, 1928 and November 27th, 1928. (Total lunar eclipses often happen in a row. Before this group, the latest was in 1924 and the next in 1931). Only the second one, December 8th, was visible from the UK, and it was a blood moon (the moon turns red).

Assuming The New Era takes place in '28, these happened around the start and end of Richard and Thomas' relationship. Eclipses are always about change. June 1927 – November 1928 is a period of huge change in Thomas' life, all about self-discovery and finding himself, which the moon is related to.

Until We Meet Again 🌜

A large partial solar eclipse was visible from Los Angeles in 1930. This newspaper article from California which I thought was funnily fitting.

And if that prompted to change his mind or if he never went, there were plenty of chances to go eclipse-gazing with Richard later. In York, June 30th, 1954, 80% of the sun was covered, October 2nd, 1959, 20% of the sun was covered, and February 15th, 1961, 90% of the sun was covered.

Thank you for reading! 🌟

Links 🌠

1. astronomy: more about solar eclipses, more about lunar eclipses, june 29 1927 in york, june 30 1954, october 2 1959, february 15 1961, april 28 1930

2. astrology: solar eclipse symbolism, eclipse meanings, sun symbolism, solar eclipse meanings

3. eclipses in art, solar eclipses in the uk, lunar eclipses in the 20th century, seeley's text (would recommend this), vintage photos of people eclipse-gazing

4. couldn't find where the newspaper article is from but i got it here

5. unnatural death & l'eclipse du soleil en pleine lune (watch here)

#when i turn this into a fic format then you will see #it ought to be haunted #i cherrypicked a lot of stuff with symbolisms etc bc this isnt That serious. just so you know if youre interested in this stuff #used some sketchy websites so yeah. if you read the whole thing and didnt think its stupid thanks sm 💓 used a lot of time with this #and theres some things i didnt even look up #anybody interested in the june 29th eclipse i have a lot of stuff i couldnt include! lots of links to send hmu

[quarktrinity]

quark watches star trek season 1 episode 15

HOMOEROTICISM RIGHT OFF THE BAT

/spock standing behind kirks chair/ kirk: "theres a kink in my back" /random yeoman comes up and starts massaging his back/ kirk: "a little higher. right there. thank you mr sp-" /spock walks forward into his field of vision/ kirk: "...thank you yeoman" I JUST-

"you need sleep, captain-" "i get enough of that from dr mccoy, yeoman" I JUST-

kirk needs a nap

mccoy wants kirk to go to this awesome chill planet to relax. god you guys need to make out so bad

...what

a. a giant white rabbit?

ALICE?

WERE DOING ALICE IN WONDERLAND?????

mccoy mentioned alice in wonderland earlier. current theory: this planet manifests thoughts or some shit

kirk says noooo i dont want to relaaax. shut up and lay down

mccoy: "sooooo i might be insane, i just saw a scene from alice in wonderland"

spock says go relax kirk, kirks like fiiiiiiiine. theyre so in love its ridiculous

why is there a gun on this planet

did they film this on an actual park

sulu found the gun which is apparently one hes always dreamed of having. this planet definitely manifests thoughts

weird antenna following them

kirk was picked on in school :(

the guy who picked on kirk in school suddenly showed up. this planet definitely-

yeoman barrow was attacked :O

i dont know who don juan is

kirks ex showed up. this planet-

kirk is so horny. all the time

it appears there is a thought manifesting machine inside the planet

mccoy is so horny. all the time

this show is absurdly goofy. i love it

mccoy just got stabbed and it was the least subtly hidden stab ive ever seen

mccoy cant be dead i refuse to believe this

ok all the stuff on the planet is manufactured. eek

more silly fight choreo

its been 0 episodes since kirks shirt was ripped

wow the rip is like. hey look at his nipple.

star trek says you WILL sexualize james t kirk and i say sir yes sir

old man who runs the planet shows up

he says this was all for fun

I KNEW MCCOY WAS FINE

hes got sexy bunny ladies holding him. ok

is he dating yeoman barrow bc no hes not

nothing is wrong lets fuck around on the thought planet

kirk you slut

#quark watches star trek #star trek #cw gun mention