juliasdowntonstuff

[juliasdowntonstuff]

Almost done with this 10-part drabble series now. (I’ll add the ao3 link here as soon as the website is back up).

This is the only drabble in this collection that draws directly on the source material, namely the second film in this case. Forgive me for breaking my own rule, but I love this scene too much and had to use it.

Anywho… sneak peek under the cut as always :)

"Now, what news do you have for us, doctor?" Robert asked anxiously, his body all tensed up.

Cora stood next to him, huddling closer than ever before in the presence of others. So close, in fact, that she could almost feel his shoulder brush against hers with every shaky breath they each took. She wanted, no – she needed to know what Doctor Clarkson had found after running her tests. There must have been ample reason for him to come up to the abbey at that time of night, long after the hospital had closed for the day. Something in her gut told her it wouldn't be good news. Those could have waited until the next day at the very least; he wouldn't have rushed up to the abbey for that.

So it really is cancer, a small voice in her head sounded, and her heart sank at that realisation. Though she also thought it was about time they found out once and for all. It had been well over two weeks now since their subsequent visit to his office down in the village promptly following their return from the south of France. These two weeks alone had been pure torture for her. She had not wanted to let it show too much to keep Robert calm, or as calm as possible given these circumstances, but she couldn't help but think of what would happen if the doctor said those three words she dreaded so much to hear. Those words and their meaning she had been afraid to hear for weeks now, those words that had ricocheted like gunshots in her mind when she had finally told him.

There was a chance the doctor wouldn't say those words, however slim it may have been. There still was a chance that her symptoms could be explained by something else… But Cora wasn't foolish. Things were exactly the way she had told Robert in the gardens of the villa. She had spent more than enough time at the hospital by now; she knew of the symptoms and had seen firsthand what happened to those who suffered, how their lives slowly slipped away from them.

Still, there is a chance, her subconscious butted in again.

And yet… What if Clarkson's next words were indeed It is cancer, like she was convinced they were? What would she do? And what would he do? Would he be alright? What about Mary and Edith, what about the rest of their family?

[juliasdowntonstuff]

life is full of ups and downs, and so have something more relaxing after the drama from the last instalment of this little series. As always, there´s a preview under the cut and the link for ao3 is here.

Little bonus: some of my favourite screengrabs of Cobert (and Violet) from the S6 CS that tie in quite well with this little drabble

New Year´s Eve 1925/1926

"I thought I would find you in here."

Cora smiled as she stood there in the doorway leading out into the great hall, her gaze settled on him. His strong silhouette stood tall against the low liquor table, even though he was leaning down to pour himself a glass. And, she had to admit, he still cut a nice figure in tails - arguably a much better one than a few months ago, now that he had finally recovered from that fateful dinner.

From behind her, echoes of music playing on the gramophone swashed into the room and the faintest glow of light fell through the door she had left slightly ajar behind her back. Otherwise, the room was dark. She knew instinctively he simply hadn't bothered to put on the lights, not with the fireplace lit. It had always been like this, and she was glad to know some things just never changed.

"Oh, did you?" Robert looked over his shoulder at her for a second before turning back to look at the glass in his hand. "You know how little I care for Champagne, all those bubbles and the dainty glasses… I thought now would be a good moment to quietly slip away and have a sip of a real drink before we head to bed and start fresh into this new year come morning."

She couldn't see it, not with his back turned to her, but she could hear the smile on his face as he said this. And also the quiet disdain he had for the beverage they had toasted with just minutes earlier.

"I figured as much. And after all of tonight's events you have more than earned it." Cora came closer with confident strides on the carpet, a soft smile playing on her lips. Just when she reached him and halted by his side, he set the decanter down at last and abandoned his glass on the low table.

Out of habit, he reached for her hand and drew her closer before leaning in to breathe a faint kiss on her lips now that they were finally away from prying eyes. "Happy New Year, my darling."

When they parted, Cora drew away slightly while he stayed where he was. She beamed up at him and replied, "And a Happy New Year to you as well. I feel so blessed to welcome 1926 with you by my side after everything that happened."

[juliasdowntonstuff]

I only got into Downton Abbey last year and I already know I'm going to bawl my eyes out at the finale movie, so I can't imagine what y'all who have been here since the beginning are going through

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they say you can't pour from an empty cup but i've been doing it my whole life and aside from all of these mysterious ailments it's working out great for me

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Wild take, but I’d say Mrs Hughes and Mrs Patmore, to calm down on busy days (Daisy brought it to work and lurks around in the background, waiting for her turn)

Hey who in Downton Abbey do you think would smoke weed

[juliasdowntonstuff]

This blog is my adult version of cutting pictures out of magazines and glueing them on to paper

[juliasdowntonstuff]

hello Tumblr, I know it's been a while, but I am back with another drabble in this little series of mine. Hope you enjoy some Cobert angst :)

(ao3 here)

Through The Night

May 1925

Her gaze was fixed on the blood, every muscle in her body tautened by the distress. She hadn't moved an inch since she claimed that uncomfortable seat several hours ago. She had tried scrubbing at the stains before they carried him out of their dining room; tried to get rid of his blood on her face.

"Lady Grantham?"

At the mention of her name, Cora looked up and disregarded the splotches of red adorning her hands she had been studying meticulously for hours by now. No matter how hard she had scrubbed, some of them hadn't wanted to wash away. Or maybe she had missed them in her frantic and desperate attempts to clean her hands of him.

Her blue eyes were wide and bloodshot from worry and lack of sleep when she looked up at the doctor standing in the hallway, his white coat quickly thrown over his pressed white dress shirt and black trousers. It seemed that he had only removed his white waistcoat and tie before rushing in to operate on her husband, a fact Cora more than greatly appreciated.

Somewhere to her right, Edith's dress ruffled as she awoke from the light slumber she had fallen into after more than an hour spent pacing the floor. And to her left, Mary sat up straighter and looked expectantly at Doctor Clarkson, ever the epitome of calm.

Cora searched his face for any clues as to what he might be about to say but came up blank. His expression was truly unreadable to her. If anything, he only looked tired - and no wonder, given the time and what he had spent his night doing up until then. This was certainly not what he had bargained for when he decided to accept the invitation for dinner at the Abbey with the Minister of Health present.

[juliasdowntonstuff]

y’all ever read a fanfic that you cannot believe an author just wrote for free?? what an honor it is to read a piece of someone’s soul they shared out of nothing but love for a piece of media. what a privilege it is to be allowed their talent because you share an interest!!

[juliasdowntonstuff]

Tried my best at another joyful, fluffy one for a change. It is still very much unknown territory for me given that this is also young Cobert, so not at all what I am used to writing with little to no canon guidance. Anyhow...

December 1891

"Slow down, son," he heard his father call after him, but there was nothing holding him back any longer. As quickly as his legs allowed, he practically flew up the stairs and dashed into his wife's room. He remembered to knock but didn't wait for anyone to ask him in before he opened the door to see her. Nothing could keep him from her on this day. Not until he saw her.

And there she was. His wife, his Cora.

He stood there, the door already closed with a quiet thud behind him, while he simply looked at her and tried to catch his breath from all the running and the excitement of becoming a father. He had asked his father to rush them back up to the abbey as soon as word had reached them while out on their rounds, and when the carriage came to a halt outside, there was no holding back for him any longer and he ran as fast as he could.

The doctor had just left and the nurse was in the room next door, he assumed, so they were alone for the time being. Just the two of them, well - three. This relative peace and quiet would not last long; they both knew as much.

[juliasdowntonstuff]

long time no see, tumblr, but I am back again with a new drabble series I've started instead of working on the other long fic project that has been on the back burner for months by now. (link to ao3 here)

As a little prelude, I just want to say that the drabbles themselves will be independent from one another but will all have a common theme tying them together in some way.

This series is named after the Jason Isbell song that inspired it - If We Were Vampires. Especially the third verse has prompted me to pick up my pen and write about Robert

If we were vampires and death was a joke

We'd go out on the sidewalk and smoke

And laugh at all the lovers and their plans

I wouldn't feel the need to hold your hand

It is one of my favourite songs of all time, timeless and hauntingly beautiful yet melancholic. I am not saying these short drabbles will be anything of the sort, but I hope they can at least bring joy if nothing else.

Anywho, without further ado… I hope you enjoy this little snippet taken from the first drabble titled Dreaded Dancefloors

November 1889

What a boring night this has been so far, Cora mused. She finally managed to be steered to the side of the dance floor in Londonderry House and acquired a flute of champagne to catch a break just for a minute that night. There were only so many times in a row she could handle getting her toes stepped on by clumsy dukes and marquesses. Her dance card was full of those; her mother made sure of that. So far, though, Cora had lacked any real connection with any of these so-called desirable young men. Maybe, if they were just a bit more forthcoming while steering her around the dance floor, that could change, but alas…

"Cora? Why are you here dawdling about, and not on the dance floor?" someone hissed lowly from behind her. Of course, that someone could only be her mother, and Cora had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes at her. She couldn't do that in public. It was typical for her mother to come the instant she was taking a break from waltz after quadrille after waltz.

"Because I needed a little break and managed to keep these two last dances free, Mother. There is nothing wrong with that," she gave back equally as quietly while half-turning to face Martha so as to not rouse suspicion. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him approach slowly and quite cautiously. If she hadn't known any better, she would have said he seemed nervous and tense, almost uncomfortable, as he approached.

Her mother seemed to have seen him, too, for she did not say anything back and instead bit her tongue while forcing a smile.

[juliasdowntonstuff]

Come back, I have to tell you the plot of a fic I’ll never write and get you excited about it so we can all be disappointed with me later

[juliasdowntonstuff]

Last chapter, anyone?

Chapter 10 (ao3) was always supposed to be the last one in this short story, and thanks to slightly more words than usual, it is. Thank you to those of you who have followed so far and wrote so many nice and encouraging notes. It really is much appreciated. Anyway, before I get too carried away... as always, there´s a sneak peek under the cut. Hope you enjoy!

A few hours later, Cora was still by his bedside. She sat lounging in the chair he had thrown over in his rage two nights before, her cloth-bound volume of J.M. Barrie's Dear Brutus closed in her lap as she was about to nod off. She had spent the night watching over her husband, barely getting even a wink of sleep, and her exhaustion was finally catching up with her.

But then, he began to stir.

Slowly, he came to and thought himself to be quite disoriented. It took him a solid minute to realise that he was not in his dressing room at Downton, nor in fact anywhere in Yorkshire.

Dark clouds lined the sky outside as far as he could see out the window, hiding the sun and casting a gloomy spell over the city. It was only a matter of time before heavy rain would make the streets below less crowded, while large puddles formed everywhere in a matter of minutes, filling the holes in the street. The less light flooding the room, though, was quite welcome for Robert; it didn't cause him quite as bad a headache as he had had earlier, and it made looking around the room for orientation far easier. Thus, it did not take him all that long to let his gaze wander and recognise the room as his dressing room at Grantham House. Then, he saw her sleepy figure sitting so close to him, and he could not help but be confused. Had she indeed been more than a mere hallucination the night before? Or was he still dreaming and hallucinating?

Sounding quite disoriented, he whispered: "What are you…?"

"I came here to find you," she replied softly, suddenly wide awake again. Making to stand, she added: "Let me get you a glass of water first."

"No!" he then said firmly, which put her back in her seat immediately. The realisation that she was there in the room with him suddenly filled him with previously unrivalled aversion, not to mention anger. He had left her as requested, and now she followed him there? He could not make any sense of it. And he didn't really want to. All he wanted was for her to leave him vegetate here in peace. She could have everything. The abbey, their family, simply everything. He'd give it all to her, freely, as long as she left him be. Was that not what she had wanted?

His blue eyes coldly rested on her face when he sat up and bluntly asked the question burning on his tongue: "Why? Why did you come?"

"I already said. I came here to find you. Do you have any idea how worried we all were?"

Robert sat up further in bed, his upper body now resting flush against the headboard. He would have already gone to stand if his head wasn't still throbbing so vehemently, although considerably less than earlier. He hadn't cared the night before that he would be hungover; he would have likely cured that fact with even more whiskey upon first waking up, or at least that had been his plan. But now he very well couldn't, and the powder she had given him seemed to help at least slightly.

However, if she was here now, Matthew wouldn't have been a figment of his imagination the night before, either. And wherever he went, Mary was never far. It wouldn't do for them to see him like this, after he had been drunk out of his mind.

Even though he was still slightly confused by it all, his simmering anger was slowly getting the better of him and her words only stoked the fire within. "You? Worried?" he spat. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

Cora gulped. He wasn't far off. For weeks, she had wanted him gone, out of her sight. And she had been wrong in ever wishing for that amid her all-encompassing grief, that much she now knew. Her fingers began to toy with the pages of the book in her lap, and she internally had to congratulate herself for her magnificent talent in unintentionally always picking stories and plays to read that fit her current situation maybe a bit too well. She had not quite reached the point where the characters knew whether their life choices had been made for the better or not. The irony was not lost on her, although she hoped to be one step ahead of the Purdies, the Coades and the Dearths.

Unlike them, hopefully, she felt she had not made a wrong choice in following her mother's lead to England despite everything she had borne witness to in the past. Unlike them, she hopefully had not made a mistake when she fell in love with the man beside her.

"I wanted you out of my room, Robert, not out of my life. I needed time for myself to come to terms with it all," she retorted, trying to stay as calm and nonconfrontational as she possibly could to counteract his mercurial temper.

"And you thought I didn't need that, too?" he asked tonelessly, an unreadable expression on his face.

It was a valid question. If she was honest, she hadn't thought of things that way. If there ever was a time and place for truthfulness, it was then and there. "Well, not necessarily. You seemed to be doing fine. As if nothing had happened. You just went about your daily business as if we hadn't just buried our daughter. I resented you for that because I couldn't understand it. I still can't fully," she replied quietly with downcast eyes. Her fingers were nervously fiddling with the corners of the book in her lap to take her mind off the severity of it all, to keep herself from bursting into tears yet again. When he did not reply, she finally looked up at him and asked, barely audible and almost choking on the words: "How could you care so little?"

[juliasdowntonstuff]

Tag Game

I was tagged not just once but five separate times by @adoracora-elizabeth @bella-caecilia @ohtobealady @coffeishowifunction and @whydidnttheyaskcora so I thought I better get to it ;) Thank you all <3

Rules: tag 10 people you want to get to know better!

Last Song: Annie´s Song by John Denver

Last Movie: I went to the movies just today to go watch Paddington in Peru (again) with a friend

Last Book: Reasons to stay alive and The Midnight Library by Matt Haig (read both at the same time, don´t ask me why)

Last TV Show: Currently watching Grace and Frankie and can´t begin to recommend it enough! Oh, and also Once Upon A Time with @emma-hahn

Sweet/savoury/spicy: savoury > sweet > spicy (I don´t handle spice well at all)

Relationship Status: single with absolutely no time to mingle

Last Thing I Googled: googled my uni website to check if exam results were in already (spoiler alert: of course not)

Looking Forward to: getting my life back on track (hopefully sooner rather than later) once exam season and winter are both over, getting to see my best friend again next month (ahh!) and going to concerts this year (that hopefully don´t get cancelled, looking at you Michael & Michelle...)

Current Obsession(s): my hobbies from days gone by - drawing, reading, and playing my instruments again (trying to get back into all that, it´s all a work in progress at this point), Downton Abbey as per usual, arranging songs for choir (someone take that software away from me, I don´t need this distraction right now), going on walks and drinking copious amounts of Chai Latte (not mutually exclusive) (it´s the little things in life, right?)

Tagging: Most of the people I know on here have already done it, so I'm tagging anyone who wants to do it

[juliasdowntonstuff]

Did someone say new chapter? The second to last chapter of this short story is now online on ff and ao3.

But now there was the mirror in front of him, his pitiable reflection staring straight back at him from a few feet away. This feeble excuse of a man, he almost didn't recognise himself.

Unshaven. Dark circles under his eyes. Just a shadow of himself, a shell of a man.

Only he wasn't alone. She was there, too, standing behind him next to the bed and looking over his shoulder. Almost as if she was staring into his soul. And she looked so beautiful.

He smiled. That was all he did for a few seconds. The swaying ceased, and the room stopped spinning around him. All because she was there with him.

"Oh, my darling," he whispered, tear-stricken. Then he tried to stand again and stumbled forward towards the looking glass. He stretched out his hand, expecting to be able to touch her, to feel the fabric of her dress underneath his fingertips. She looked so real, as if he could simply reach for her cheek to caress it gently the way he had done when she was younger.

But he was in for a disappointment. Instead of touching fabric or her soft skin, all he felt was the sensation of the cold sheet of glass beneath his fingers when he reached in. As quickly as the smile had appeared on his face, it vanished. His vision was still blurry, but now that he had come this close to his reflection — their reflection — he saw clearly that she was not smiling back at him as he had previously thought and hoped. No. She was staring at him, her eyes hard. Unrelenting. Cold.

"I should be with my daughter and husband, you know it. I shouldn't be here."

"No, no," he whimpered. His fingers, despite only feeling the chill from the glass, tried once more to graze over her cheek so lovingly. He wanted her to look at him like she always had, with such adoration and affection. He had never seen her look so cold, so heartless, not even when they had fought after he had refused to let her marry Branson. Even then, there had still been love left for him in her eyes, but not now. Not anymore. A tear rolling down his reddened cheek, he pleaded, "If only I could change it. Come back to me, please."

[juliasdowntonstuff]

it´s been a few days already since I posted this one actually, but I forgot to post the links to ff and ao3 on here for anyone interested.

For the first time in weeks, she felt she needed to feel him close to be able to face the day ahead. How was she supposed to go down to the village to apologise to her mother-in-law for her abrupt, wordless departure if he was not there next to her to appease his mother? How was she supposed to survive those horrid looks her mother-in-law would be shooting her way when he was not there to give her strength by simply squeezing her hand reassuringly as had always been his custom? How was she supposed to go to her daughter's grave in the village graveyard without breaking down when he was not there to hold her hand? How was she supposed to be doing any of it when he was not there making sure she was feeling alright, reassuring her that he was there for her? Robert, her Robert, would do that, all of that, in a heartbeat. She had not a single doubt about that.

He should be here, and yet he wasn't.

But if he wasn't here with her or in his dressing room and also not with Matthew and Mary, then where was he? Where was her husband?

And then she recalled this truly odd conversation she had had with Mary when her daughter had come to her bedroom to ask after him not too long ago. Cora had told her daughter to ask her grandmother about Robert's whereabouts but she had never followed up.

Suddenly, she realised that maybe this had to do with his recurrent absence from dinner that had darkened her mood the night before. What if he still had not come home since then?

This got Cora jumping back into motion. She should get dressed, she could not very well go down to the village dressed in nothing but her nightgown and it was a matter of utmost urgency to her. It simply could not wait until afternoon when it would be socially acceptable to pay Mama a call. She hastened to pull on the bell rope and then quickly went to the bathroom to freshen up before O'Brien would arrive.

Suddenly, she felt like there was no time to lose.

--------------

"Where is this goddamned bottle?" he shouted angrily into the smoke-heavy darkness of the room, not expecting a reply for there was nobody there with him.

He was alone. All alone with his thoughts, his cigars, and the whiskey. Or he was alone with the cigars and his thoughts — he had just downed the last drop of the amber liquid from the decanter that had been standing atop the silver tray on the wooden cabinet that was holding port and other spirits he was no great fan of, and now there was none left. Apart maybe from another odd bottle of Whiskey inside he was now looking for.

That decanter had not lasted him nearly long enough. Still, he wanted more. He needed more. He needed to feel the alcohol burn inside him as he swallowed it, he needed to feel its effects take over. He needed to feel the subsequent numbness to finally take over his mind. Even the blatant numbness, that complete and utter lack of any type of feeling, was better than feeling all these things and thinking all these thoughts he so desperately wanted to shut off.

Feverishly he rummaged around inside the cabinet while down on his knees, the bottles and decanters inside clanking against one another, with his hands unsteadily shaking as he tried to find more. He could barely make out the labels on the bottles, not that reading those would have been possible for him in his current state. It was all more blurry and obscure than he was used to, and the darkness that filled the room was of no great help, either.

[juliasdowntonstuff]

It's been a while, but I have just posted a new quick drabble on ff and ao3. As usual, there is a short excerpt under the cut. Hope you enjoy :)

"18 years, can you believe it? He would have celebrated his 18th birthday this summer. Do you ever wonder how our lives would have unfolded if the floor had not been slippery from the dropped soap that day?"

Silently, they walked for a little while as Cora guided them over to a bench standing in between two rosebushes in full bloom, their big petals seeming ablaze coloured brightly orange and red. Only when they were sat did she reply.

"I wonder about that all the time, especially now. I wonder how different all our lives would have been, I wonder if Matthew had stayed and still married Mary. I wonder what kind of person he would have been. And I wonder if maybe we cursed it all when we decided on names before he was born. You know what my mother used to say even before Mary was born, naming a child before birth is a sure harbinger of tragedy. I hate to admit that she might have been right."

Her gaze dropped into her lap where she fiddled with her gloved fingers.

"Don't forget that your mother was superstitious to a degree any sane Brit would find amusing. I don't think deciding on potential names had anything to do with what happened that day. It was just a tragic turn of events, and nobody is to blame. It was a miracle in its own right that you fell pregnant again so long after Sybil had been born. God knows, we did not exactly behave in a way that prevented it in the years between," he chuckled. When he noticed her downcast eyes, his hand stretched out to take hers. He was relieved to hear her chuckle at that last comment.

"We really should not have been so surprised, should we?" she laughed, the sound as clear as bells filling the air.

"No," he snorted, joining her heartily in her amusement while revelling in her obvious delight. He could never grow tired of hearing her laugh, never. "And we haven't really stopped, either," he added cheekily while playing with a rose trailing into his lap.

That earned him a jovial slap to his wrist, along with an expression of feigned outrage and shock, before she broke into another fit of laughter.

A little while later, both of their laughter now muted, she asked: "What do you think he would have looked like?"

Without needing to think about it, Robert turned to her and replied: "I don't know, honestly. I just hope he would have inherited your nature. Your kindness and compassion, your resilience and your intelligence."

[juliasdowntonstuff]

Can't even express how I feel, but I can write 4,000 words about how a fictional character feels.