#WHILE MY PARENTS ARE WATCHING DOWNTON

[beezusvreeland]

Santi's journal (Santiago "Pope" Garcia x Reader)

I was planning on publishing a fic about Santiago on Valentine's Day, but didn't have time to finish. Since I like what I wrote so far, I decided to share with all of you :)

summary: After the break up, Santiago is advised to write a journal to deal with his feelings, an exercise that brings back memories and, maybe, a new hope for your relationship.

ship: Santiago "Pope" Garcia x Reader

genre: Angst, possible second chance romance, Santi sometimes being sweet and, others, a bitch.

words: 1,7k

taglist (if you'd like to be added, just let me know in the comments): @wreckmyimage @steven-grants-world @lizispunkk @torntaltos @nervousmumbling @littleshadow17

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You’ll never read this. I’ll make sure of it. It boils my blood the fact that I can see the face you’d make, you would tell me writing in a journal is so unlike me. Of course you’re right, you’re always fucking right. I wouldn’t be doing this if Will hadn’t made me. He showed up at 7 fucking am at my mother’s house and you know she fucking loves him, a prince charming, if she has ever seen one. Fucking prick keeps smirking at me because I know he is far from it. After eating like a fucking king, he tossed me this goddamn notebook and a pen and said something how I should stop pouring my feelings on alcohol, hilarious since he was drinking as much as me last night, and find another way to express emotions or whatever. He is still here, watching me like a fucking hawk while I pretend I’m taking this shit seriously. 

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Being back at my parents’ house is fun for like two days, after that it’s just depressing. I’m sleeping in my bed in my room and it just doesn’t feel like home anymore. If my conscience wasn’t guilty already, I would have broken the promise I made to Ironhead and driven my ass straight to the bar. I would keep getting a hangover, but at least I would sleep better.

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I was cleaning the car just now and found one of your earrings. That one that’s a small golden hoop, you wear it all the time. You’re probably looking for it, maybe I should give it to Frankie or Benny to return it to you. It’s funny, you always said that you felt sort of naked without earrings. It was one of these things you would repeat every once in a while, I’ve always liked that. Felt like a confirmation that even if you changed, you were still you.

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Things got complicated after we broke up. I wonder if you feel it too, our friends forming teams for each of us. I don’t like that. And I know you don’t either. I went to Fish’s to give him your earring, feeling safe ‘cause you know, it’s fucking Fish, mi hermano. But Sarah was home and was the one who opened the door. Let’s just say she’s very much on your team. She made sure I knew that with all the screaming in spanish and the dishes being thrown my way. I hid in my car until Frankie came home. Me, an army veteran. That’s how pathetic my life has been, princesa. 

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Can’t sleep again. Think I got too used to having you by my side. Also, this bed is very small, I don’t know how I was able to sleep here. I think you would like to know that now I’m the one doing my own laundry and the cleaning. Ma made it clear that her casa no es un hotel. I heard her telling mis tias that the only baby she wants to take care of is a grandchild and that I ruined her chances of having one. 

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Met a girl at the bar last night. We made small talk for a while, until she asked me if something was wrong because I kept looking at the door every time someone walked in. I told her I thought I saw a friend, but the truth is I realized that my body has an automatic response to the sound of the bar door opening. I turned every time hoping it would be you walking in, but it never was.

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I saw on the news that the old movie theater downton is going to be demolished and turned into a parking garage. Not gonna lie, it made me so fucking sad to think about it and to wonder how you might react to this news. We were always there when we were kids. It was where we talked for the first time. You think it was at school, but it wasn’t. All I wanted was an electric guitar just like James Hetfield’s and my parents said absolutely fucking not when I asked them for it, so I started working there on weekends. Sundays were always boring, only a handful of people showed up in the mornings and time just wouldn’t go by.

And then one day you showed up at the concession stand, hair down in one of those headbands you loved so much, I wasn’t prepared, thought I was going to have a heart attack at the age of 16. You recognized me from homeroom, knew my name and all. I was such a fucking simp, always trying to sit next to you. I thought you would never even look in my direction and then you were there at the theater, trying to make some small talk while I got you popcorn. I spent the rest of the day over the moon that we had talked and terrified I had blown it by being so nervous and barely saying anything to you. In homeroom on monday, you turned to me with a shy smile and said hi. That’s all it took. You had me…and still do.

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The nightmares are back. You know, the ones with the sounds of shots being fired, all the blood and the bodies. I’m terrified that one day I’ll start recognizing them. Of one of them becoming you. I almost called your number, dialed it and everything. Then I remembered that, according to you, the only acceptable excuses for waking you up in the middle of the night were if the house was on fire or if someone was dying. And I just didn’t want to give you yet another reason to be mad at me.

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I’m pissed off right now. Frankie had the audacity of taking me out of town to help him pick up some table Sarah bought online and next thing I know, he starts to reprimand me for what happened. Some bullshit about not giving up on what I loved, especially not you.

No matter how much we argued, he still missed my point. You were the one that had doubts. The one that didn’t want to commit. You said you wanted to, so why won’t you?

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I went back to the bar today. Fuck, I really needed a drink after that disaster with Frankie and the arguments with my mother, who won’t shut up about Miss Celia next door becoming a grandmother to twins and how she is thinking of giving her some of my baby clothes. Ma wanted them to go to her grandchildren, our children. We can’t have a conversation that doesn’t involve this topic. I just can’t do anything right.

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It’s not just the clothes she keeps, you know. Ma also has several scrapbooks with moments I didn’t even remember. There was one just for prom, with pictures at my house, in front of the limo, others where I look very sweaty and probably stoned. I spent years going back to that memory. It’s one of my biggest regrets, not taking you to prom. I put myself in a situation I didn’t know how to get out of.

The night we kissed for the first time, in my car parked in front of the movie theater, blew my mind. Before that, I thought you’d never date me, so I started dating other girls. I had hooked up with Paloma Gomez a few times when she let me know we would go to the prom together. I said yes. I was such a shit little idiot, fuelled by hormones and teenage angst. I hadn’t learned yet that having sex with someone doesn’t mean you are in love with them, how meaningless it could be. It didn’t matter how much I tried, no amount of it could ever compare to talking to you on the phone late at night, trading secrets and whispers about everything and nothing.

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Got a consulting job at a firm. It’s freelance for now, but you know, it gives me something to do and a reason to leave the house every day. The people at the office are fine, there aren’t that many demands at this time of the year and one of the ladies from the other floor brings a cake every friday. This week’s was lemon flavored with a cream filling I know you would love.

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Benny convinced me to try out the gym he is working at and it wasn’t bad. I thought he worked at the counter or something, but he is a personal trainer. A good one, if you ask me — don’t fucking tell him.

Ben made me lift some weights and run for a bit. Tried talking to him about the fight, I actually meant to ask how you have been, but once again the words escaped me and our conversation took a turn to who’s right and who’s wrong. He said if I wanted you back, I should understand what went wrong to make it right. It was weird, not gonna lie, all the riddles and shit. For a moment there, I felt like I was the kid and he was the adult for once.

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A few days after we kissed, you showed up at the theater again, remember? You seemed nervous for once, holding a dark green box that you put on the counter. You were even wearing a dress I hadn’t seen before, the one that made you look like Wednesday Addams. It seemed you even had a bit of makeup on.

You broke the awkwardness between us asking me to open the box. Inside there were five cupcakes with inscriptions on them: P R O M ? When I looked back at you, you had your hands behind your back and were shifting your weight, a smile on your face. Telling you that I already had a date and confirming I was dating that girl was one of the hardest things I ever had to do in life — and I’ve hidden in a cave full of corpses before, you know it.

I became desperate, tried telling you it wasn’t serious, that maybe I could cancel with her to go with you. And you said that would be cruel to both of you, then left.

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author's note: I have and idea for a part two. Let me know if you're interested? And if you like what you read, please reblog and leave a comment, it means the world to us writers to be able to interact with our readers.

masterlist

[madebyteenagefury]

ask anyone who knows me and knows the downton abbey lore (so like, my parents) and they'll tell you i am an absolute thomas barrow apologist, it has been something we've disagreed over plenty of times, idk i just love him. he is one conniving son of a bitch but hes still more than that, he got his mf redemption arc and he deserved it. i usually only rewatch the films, and the last few seasons of the show, due to this however, i often forget just how bitchy he was, like how steve harrington is a fan favorite but because of that i forget the extent of his dick behavior in s1 (also i just never watch that season)

the thing i used to hate most that thomas (and tbf obrien) did was continuously try to sack bates, succeeding at one point, and just overall being a complete ass towards him but i completely didnt remember how he led daisy on just to kick william in the gut FUCK him for that. one of my fav moments is actually when he dances with daisy while william plays piano, because despite how different they all are and the negative feelings between him, obrien and literally everyone else they all laugh and have a good time for a moment and its sweet, but mf knows daisy has this little crush on him and leads her on despite the fact that he just doesnt even like her normally, hes literally gay. disregarding the probability that she will be hurt (i mean not that he cared at the time) just to fuck with william and for what??

one of the reasons i dont completely hate obrien and thomas in the earlier seasons is because i feel like that most of their actions have an explanation besides "just because". mostly they arent being complete jerks just to Be Jerks (not that it makes their actions and behavior any more acceptable, and ofc they say rude things a lot just because but here im talking about their scheming and various ploys) but this, i literally dont see any more reason besides fuck with william and its not just william who faces consequences because of it and when bates shoved him up against the wall to give him a mind to shut the fuck up i was like "yesss tell that bastard"

[redvanillabee]

Something I don't see a lot in the arguments in favour of piracy is that: for a lot of foreign fans/viewers, piracy is our only option of accessing certain media. You know that awesome feeling when you meet online friends from far corners of the globe who have some how watched the same show as you? Yea, chances are they pirated that.

I remember when Glee was on air, and piracy was the only way I could get to watch the show at little cost (as Americans would, since it was free on TV) and within a reasonable time frame. I could theoretically wait till the DVD is out and my local HMV stocks it, but that would (a) cost lots of money that high school me didn't have, and (b) I would have to wait ages. I could also theoretically wait for my local channel to buy the rights to the show, but that would usually be at least a year late, and that is if the local channel buys the rights at all. (Plus, I was living at home at the time. watching it on local broadcast would mean convincing my parents to not watch what they wanted to watch and let me hoard the TV for an hour).

When I was getting into BBC Sherlock and Downton Abbey, I had friends studying in England and they very kindly helped me get the DVDs for the shows for cheap. It was great! However, DVDs are also regionally locked; after changing the region on my old laptop's built-in DVD player several times, I was locked out and there was a bunch of DVDs I could no longer play (until mum's friend bought me an external disc reader, but if I were to get that myself, that's another expenditure).

Even after I got into Marvel, I could not easily access the films and shows. Disney+ was first launced in the US in 2019; but my city—a fairly prominent city—didn't get the platform until late 2021. Before then, there were few ways for me to legally access anything within the Disney family. For a while, Marvel films and shows were on Netflix, but more often than not I was geolocked out of it. I could access them with a VPN, but VPNs are expensive and it's not always easy to find a reliable one.

In short, piracy is sometimes the only way someone from outside of where a show is created can get access to it. There was a time when shows and films revelled in being able to claim international fame, but anti-piracy movements and geolocking have made that difficult. I think there is definitely some value to media piracy if it allows people from all around the world to get access to media from other cultures.

[juliasdowntonstuff]

Chapter 44

read it on ao3 here

Cora could not even ask who he was talking to before the two young children were already skipping towards her, quickly running past him and heading in her direction.

Robert watched it all happen with a benign smile on his face. That, however, faded quickly when he saw his grandchildren enter and come closer at such speed. They were clearly very excited to see their granny; they had not seen her since New Year's, after all. He assumed they would greet her like they always did — rapturously with a hug, and he did not quite trust them not to unknowingly hurt her in the process. "Careful, children! Granny is very, very sick," Robert rushed to say calmly, authority in his voice, just before they had reached her bedside.

He must have had the right hunch, because they suddenly walked slower and kept some distance when they finally greeted them, saying "Hello Granny, hello Donk" in near-perfect unison.

"Hello, my darlings. What a nice surprise!" Cora replied tiredly, while still beaming brightly at her eldest grandchildren and son-in-law. She had missed them terribly in the weeks that had passed since she had left Downton to undergo her treatment, but she had not wanted them to see her when she was in such bad shape before. It would not have been fair on them to witness her illness any more than they necessarily had to. The poor young children had already had to face so much in their still short lives, both losing one of their parents on the days they were born.

As Tom approached with long strides, he asked: "I do hope it is okay that I brought them along? Only they asked repeatedly to see you and we could not say no any longer."

He came to a halt next to Cora's bed and pulled up another chair to sit down opposite his father-in-law, an uncertain smile on his face. He still was not sure if he was entirely welcome here, despite Robert assuring him that he certainly was, just the day before in fact.

[wyntr-thyms-2sh1ne]

El Castillo de Encanto: Que Tú Eres Mi Destino

The Castle of the Enchantment: That You Are My Destiny

Each new gift given by the miraculous candle was meant to strengthen the community, strengthen the El Castillo de Encanto. To make the royal Madrigal family proud.

You work as a personal servant within the Royal Madrigal's family castle, but after the fall of the Castillo and rebirth of the miracle, your work plans change. Time to make the missing triplet feel at home once again.

The dictionary of my spanglish and bad timeline: - El Castillo de Encanto the casita in this version. - Reader is technically 22 years old. - I'm using a mix of a magical democratic monarchy and traditional Spanish, Colombian, and a dash of Downton Abbey

Chapter ambience: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mLWbKf4YcAA

Fifty years ago, a newly widowed mother received a miracle. Pushed out of her home after the birth of her three children by the violent conflict of the Colombian civil war, she and her husband were forced to flee in hopes of finding a new home. Even as many joined them, they could not escape the dangers of warfare. The wife watched as her newly fathered husband was lost to the violence of war. But, even in their darkest moment, Alma Madrigal was given a miracle.

The candle she held became a magical flame that could never go out, and glowed brightly in that dark night. It blessed Alma Madrigal with a refuge in which to live. The magic made towering green, protective mountains over her and her people. It was a place of wonder, an enchantment. The miracle grew, creating a castle for her and her family to live in, El Castillo de Encanto. Their house, the castle itself, came alive to shelter them.

When her children came of age, the miracle blessed them with magic too. Passing down to them a magical gift to match the magical candle Queen Alma Madrigal was bestowed. And when their children came of age, that magic was passed through each generation. Together, the royal family's gifts have made the Encanto, truly, a paradise.

Each new gift given by the miraculous candle was meant to strengthen the community, strengthen the El Castillo de Encanto. To make the royal Madrigal family proud.

Each gift given to the Madrigal’s was just as special as they were. 

~~~

When you wake up you do so to the sound of a ringing bell, loud and clanging to purposefully alert the women and men around you. You jump up so fast being so startled and smack your forehead on the wooden panel of the bunk above you. With a small hiss and rubbing your forehead, you stumble out of bed, grabbing at the clothes under your bed frame. The woman above you does too. Everyone around is scrambling to get their royal garb on, whispering in excitement. 

Today we move back into El Castillo de Encanto! The Castle! 

You had to admit how relieved you were. It was so cramped in this temporary arrangement the servants of the Madrigal family found themselves in while the magic was still weak. This was usually where the nuns from the church would stay. 

Truly, a humble celibate life they live… You think to yourself as you use a silvery, shiny ribbon to quickly tie your hair into a low ponytail. 

Ten years ago, the village of Encanto fretted over the state of the magic blessing when Mirabel Madrigal did not receive a gift like the rest of her family. Not even 24 hours later, one of the royal magical triplets in the second generation known as “Bruno, la maldición del destino” by most of the town, disappeared. 

You were only 12 when this all happened, working alongside your parents as an apprentice of servitude. When you were 13, you were working alone without your parents anymore. You weren’t sure why they passed away so young.

You loved your parents. The Columbian political unrest was too much, most nights they could see the smoke billowing from other towns around them being lit aflame. When your mother got pregnant with you they had a hard decision to make, stay with their friends and family and be in their home, or leave to ensure the safety of their future daughter- you. They thought and thought until your mother was incredibly far along in her pregnancy and the smoke got closer and closer, until they could see orange in the village nearby. The flames licked upwards, burning the homes of innocent families. So, with nothing but a bag with a blanket and a mysterious letter that didn’t have a return address with directions, they set out to find the mysterious Encanto.

You still had that letter. You had practically memorized what it had written on it. In shiny golden metallic font, it stated, “The Encanto, home for anyone looking for refuge or a miracle. Follow the butterflies. Climb the forested mountain. It is waiting for you.” They did. Somehow, they told you, they found it. It was almost like being lost and blinking and suddenly realizing where you’re going. They walked by the butterflies they saw. They took the nights in the cover of the jungle forests. They hiked up mountains. 

They actually saw the castle, and almost as if it was meant to be, your mother went into labor. You remembered sitting there and listening to this story as a child with wonder coursing through your veins. The magical royal family was alerted to them as newcomers, and they took pity on your mother and father. You were born inside the castle, brought into the world by none other than her Majesty Juileta Madrigal. The Madrigals favored your parents' perseverance and love for you as their daughter. They were personally assigned to be paid and housed as servants of the Madrigal family. 

Which, in the Encanto, was a very good job many of the villagers would be envious of. 

Your mother became Juileta’s personal servant. Your father, Bruno’s. You would remember how your mom would come back to the servants quarters with a smile on her face and a treat for you. Your father… Typically would come back looking worried and flop on his bed for a minute before winding down and being his usual self. 

When you were 5 that was when the apprenticeship started happening. Nothing really like backbreaking work, the servants usually never had to do that. You followed in your parents footsteps and worked to be a personal servant. The Madrigals had servants for everything. Teachers, babysitters, clothes, cooking, training- anything! A passion could easily be followed. Like your mother and father, from a young age you really liked order. You liked cleaning, putting things in place, choosing outfits and hairstyles or decorating rooms to be more cozy.

When Mirabel came of age for her gift, and the ceremony was a disaster as she didn’t even get a gift, your mother and father seemed both distraught. Then, Bruno disappeared. Your father suddenly and immediately declined. He wouldn’t get up for his servant job from his bunk. He only spoke to you and your mother. You couldn’t even think of how many times he whispered “you know I love you, right?” to you and your mother every night. You knew he blamed himself for Bruno disappearing, perhaps. Maybe he thought he should’ve done a better job? You didn’t know. You were too young to know. 

Your mother passed first, however. You remember her waking up really early that day and whispering “I love you mi luna” to your dad, kissing his cheek before leaving. You don’t know exactly what happened. You think maybe a stroke. But your mother passed while working, and it was so quick Juileta couldn’t get to her in time to heal her. 

When your father heard the news he was devastated. He held you that night. When you woke up to get breakfast you came back to him cold, and lifeless, still in his bunk. You knew he died of a broken heart. 

You wished to have a love like your parents. A marriage like them. But ever since they passed you have focused on working and being the most reliable servant in the Castillo. Because of that, at the ripe young age of 13 you were assigned to La Riena Alma’s biggest mess. 

Mirabel Madrigal. 

Her Queen Alma Madrigal found the gift-less grandchild to be a pain, invisible, not as special as the rest of the magical family. When she saw how hard you worked even at your age and everything that had happened she grew content with making you the girls permanent personal servant. 

You didn’t complain. 

By then she was 7. And Mirabel was the kindest, funniest, little girl you had ever met. You practically raised her. You studied with her after her educational servant would let her out for the day, you bathed her and made sure her hair was shiny, you cleaned her glasses and taught her how to step on every stone in the Castillo without putting a foot on a crack. 

It broke your heart to see how badly Mirabel wanted to help the family even without a magical blessing like her siblings and cousins. You would go into town with her sometimes and watch the villagers practically ignore her. You hated it. But you tried everything in your power to make sure that Mirabel was happy, gift or no gift. She was special to you. A soul sister. 

When you turned 18, because of how well you handled Mirabel, her majesty Queen Madrigal named you head of servants. Honored, and feeling privileged, you worked even harder. But despite everything you did it felt like the family tension with Mirabel and the hush hush about “ese desgraciado Bruno diablo” grew more and more. 

Until the magic completely failed.

When Isabela Madrigal had a very unsuccessful, chaotic proposal from the village favored Guzman family son, Riena Alma ordered you to take all the servants away to a temporary housing arrangement at the church. She made sure to scream about how the magic is strong and the candle will never burn out. 

It did. 

The Castillo literally crumbled to the ground. Turned into a pile of rubble with barely known remnants of what was once a glorious castle. Mirabel disappeared. Horrified you spent hours with the Madrigals searching for her in this devastated state. The magic was gone, the blessing was no more, and it would seem only a miracle could fix the internal damage within the familia Madrigal and the hope of the villagers. 

Thankfully. She did come back. On horseback, with her Abuela Alma and a figure no one ever expected to return. 

Bruno.

Reunited with her family, Mirabel single handedly encouraged the entire Encanto to hope in miracles again. A month of hard work from everyone made the Castillo be rebuilt in the same glory it was before. And when Mirabel added the final touch of a doorknob, the miracle became restored. The bright golden lights and sparkles and swirls of colors that made their way up through the stone of the Castillo and rooted themselves in the ground under the whole village's feet was a sight to only behold in a state of awed wonder. 

It was a day of celebration. You took Mirabel’s hands and danced with her in celebration, cheering, saying “I knew you could do it! You are so much more special than you realize!!” The new miracle bestowed another blessing on the land, one that united everyone in communication and a desire to be better and let go of the biases of the past and make a better future. 

You blinked rapidly from your thoughts when your bunk mate called for you over her shoulder, “Hey! Líder sin miedo, c’mon! You’re going to be late moving into your ‘elite servant’ room!” 

You laugh and sprint towards her and outside of the cramped sleeping quarters, “As long as I get top bunk this time!!! 

~~~

Your joke earlier was meant as a joke and when you got to the castle everything went even more smoothly. Luckily, you did not need a bunk mate. Upon uniting with their respective Madrigal family members, each servant was either on the giving or receiving end of a magical hug. 

Mirabel threw herself at you and you at her, both of you embracing in a fit of giggles, dancing from side to side in the tight hug. When the girl pulls away she pushes her glasses up her face and smiles at you as if she was still the humble, giftless girl she was before and not the restoration of a miracle. 

Her humbleness still made her excitedly help you get settled into your quarters. They were nice. You had a room alone to yourself, with a queen sized bed and your own personal bathroom, bookcase, desk, wardrobe, and drawers. Mirabel didn’t shut up the whole time she helped you get moved in, excitedly talking about the magic and then moving on to the most surprising topic to most of the other servants. 

Her tío Bruno. 

She excitedly explained to you how he was “weird, but not like, weird weird like more like just kinda nutty weird not like super evil weird.” Which honestly made you chuckle a little. 

“So master Bruno is awkward?” 

“Yeah!” Mirabel lit up, still talking like a madman, which you loved. You really did like it when someone was excited to talk about something. It was sweet how passionate they would get. And you loved Mirabel, and so each nod and hum you gave in reply to her rambling was entirely genuine. 

She explained how short Bruno was. How he lived in the abandoned dungeon and the walls of the Castillo, with his only friends being the rats in there. She even explained his embarrassing habit of using them to make his own little personal plays so he would be entertained all cooped up in there. 

You giggled, only drawing on what your father’s experience was with him. He explained Bruno was always well meaning but prone to being really unlucky himself. He always tried to convince you as a young girl that Bruno wasn’t as scary as everyone made him seem. 

Standing at 5’3, being 50 years old, and looking so skinny for his age- yup. You believed him and Mirabel well over the village folk and Camilo’s shallow seven foot interpretation of his uncle. 

Mirabel went on to explain how much he loved the Encanto, the Madrigal monarchy itself, and each and every one of the family members. How he aided her in seeing the future to help save the miracle. She made sure to put a lot of emphasis on how he seemed to be the only adult she had ever met (“aside from present company, of course,” she made sure to add, winking at you) who treated her with respect. Like he understood her wishes and desires and demands and even if he was scared he knew what was for the best despite the wishes of the f amily to remain “fine”. After her emotional banter about him she got more into his appearance. 

By then you were following behind her with your back straight, clasped hands held at your belly button height, resuming the perfect personal servant posture as you did before the collapse. Your tied up hair billowed behind you as you kept a strong, certain stride. You wanted to make sure you kept working that hard and pouring everything you had into this job even if the family seemed more lax. You were the Head of Servitude, after all. 

“He has this crazy slouch. You know, like the kind you see little gárgolas standing in. Oh! And he always rings his hands or waves them around- real expressive with them, ya know?” Mirabel walked, talking to you over her shoulder, “He is all gangly like he doesn’t know where to put his limbs sometimes. You know what I mean- like a growing adolescente. He seems to not understand where to place his feet.” Mirabel walked the memorized path to her room, not stopping a moment during all of this, “When the castle was rebuilt he immediately went to bed. He wasn’t awake this morning if you didn’t see- in fact I bet he’s still in bed, durmiendo todo el dia, jeez, what an old man. Well I guess it’s not that big of a deal, he doesn’t really like using his gift anyways.” 

When she stopped in front of her door she turned to you, a smile still on her happy little face. You chuckled, and spoke, “What a glowing review for your regio uncle.” 

“I know right!” Mirabel giggled and moved her hips and legs so her brightly colored skirt swung back and forth. You stepped up next to her with a soft smile, making her turn towards her bedroom door and reach for the handle, “Now it’s your turn to help me move in!” She gave you a sly smile, knowing you would love this detail, “I need a lot of help decorating.” 

Your eyes lit up in happiness, your face not revealing it in its entirety but a small smile did form on your lips. 

You grabbed the door knob with her, “What are we waiting for then?!” 

Mirabel laughed.

~~

The next week went on with the Madrigal family settling back into the Castillo with as much grace and understanding under the new miracle Mirabel had created. Unfortunately, because Mirabel was the creator of this miracle you found yourself not her personal servant as often anymore. It meant you had to resume the extra duties of head of servitude (which, admittedly, were not as fun as goofing around with Mirabel all day). 

You usually wake her up most days. It meant a good morning routine and a great way to start off the day as she would sing while you fixed her hair and tended to her curls. Her eyes would scrunch behind her glasses as you scolded her for being such a “wiggly worm” and “oruga tonta”.

So often her Majesty the Queen Alma Madrigal would come into Mirabel’s room in the morning. You would have to take a step back as your mistress would run up to her abuela and kiss her cheek and ask her how she slept. It was clear that they had repaired their relationship and were eagerly growing it as the days went on. 

“Might I borrow the room, miss?” Reina Alma had asked of you on the first morning back in the saddle. 

You bowed, “Yes your su Majestad,” You kept your head down in proper etiquette with your hands placed together at your midsection, walking past the queen with kindness. 

You were anxious. Mirabel was whisked away more and more by her grandmother, and while you were so excited for her you knew what it meant. Less time with you! What you saw as your little sister was finally growing up and it pained you a little. You didn’t know why. You practically felt like her second mom. You watched her grow from lost in the world to understanding her place. 

Perhaps you wished to continue to have that life guidance for her. It gave you a lot of meaning. 

When Mirabel was advising her grandmother, you busied yourself with the other tasks demanded of your head of servitude job. That included but was not limited to meal preparations, cleaning, making beds, washing laundry, explaining to Camilo that he has to understand that he cannot go into the female servants quarters even if he was “technically a female servant right now”, and finding meaningless ways to make even more spaces within the Castillo aesthetically appealing. 

There were a few times in that week you would reorganize a room just for the heck of it to give you some purpose, and Castillo’s tiles and walls would shift, rattling and making a satisfying domino effect, pushing the furniture back into its proper places. This was often accompanied by a sigh, because you knew Castillo could tell you weren’t doing it for your job, but rather, for your own fulfillment. 

It was getting boring. You loved your job, but it seemed without purpose. Mirabel was growing up and doing what she was born to do- be the real miracle. 

You found yourself often going back to Julieta or Agustin during this time to assist them- Agustin because he was always clumsy and needed help with something, Julieta because you could never shake the feeling that she felt like “mom”. About halfway through the week, an interesting conversation happened in the kitchen. 

“Agustin appreciates the attention you’ve been giving him despite the fact he already has three personal servants to keep him out of trouble,” Julieta smiled at you, her down turned brown eyes warm as you mixed dough, her hands busy kneading it. 

A lot of servants helped her cook, and they all bustled around with ingredients and bowls and utensils of all kinds. The smell in the kitchen was amazing, absolutely estupendo. 

“Of course la dama, anything to help the amazing Madrigals,” You replied, smiling at her work. What a unique gift. All she needed to do was lay her hands on the food at some point or another in the process and have it possess that healing power. 

“You might need to get used to it,” Daniela, a kitchen maid, skidded past, only a few years older than you. She put a bowl into the oven, using the fireplace poker to make sure the heat stayed consistent on the food, “I’ve heard Mirabel and her Majesty Reina Alma are getting close. Almost like she is her heiress.” 

You paused, shooting her a glance as Julieta chuckled and shook her head a little, “Mamá still has some kick in her and Mirabel is still only a child, una adolescente, she’s just 15. That won’t be happening soon.” She looked down, and you noticed despite her words she had a giant, proud, motherly smile on her face for her daughter. Always in her corner, just like you. 

“Still,” María, the second kitchen maid and Julieta’s own personal servant, butted in, “Soon to become a royal advisor I’m sure of it.” The older woman set a cutting board down and began to carefully chop up some fresh cilantro, “Perhaps even her own personal asesora real, considering all the advice she's giving Her Reina already,” María sounded more logical, as if stating the simple facts. She glanced up to look between you and Julieta.

“Probably due to be on the royal court this week alone,” Daniela chirped, ever the dramatic gossiper. 

“I’d hope,” You burst, finally speaking up. You beat the liquids and powder in the bowl in front of you with much unbridled vigor that it became mixed as one within seconds, touching the rim and coating one of your thumbs with the batter, “After all these years pushing her to the wayside they finally recognize her talent- oh no! No longer a pequeña oruga, eating up resources and an unpleasant sight. But no, now she's a una hermosa mariposa, glowing with a new miracle… As if she wasn’t already and wasn’t that always!” 

The kitchen completely stills. Both maids and her majesty Juileta all stare at you and the paused image of your aggressively beaten batter and downcast gaze. 

You take your hands off the bowl, lower your head so your scalp is visible to the royal Madrigal in the room, bowing with your hands clutched at your midsection, “I beg your pardon mi señora, I don’t know what got into me.” 

Julieta gives you a small, sympathetic look. She nodded to her two other maids, and both resumed their duties as if not being bothered at all. She turned to you, putting a gentle, caring hand on your tense shoulder, “My dear, levanta la cabeza,” she put a hand under your chin and tilted it up to meet her eyes, “Let’s have a moment, shall we? To the pantry, let’s go.” 

Julieta led you with a hand on your back in the most mothering way you could imagine, whispering, “Danos un momento, ladies,” to her maids as she took you into the pantry closet, closing the door behind her. 

The smell of spices, fresh herbs, and dried meats and proteins hit your nose the moment you were inside. You turned to her majesty, scrambling, “I’m so sorry. I feel she is slipping away from me-” 

“Shh! Shh…” Julieta gently calmed you, rubbing soothing circles on your back, “Honey, I would know how you’re feeling. I’m her mother. Mirabel deserves this, yes, but it feels so whip-lashed for sure.. One moment she comes crying to your side and now she is the heart of the Encanto, what keeps the magic breathing and alive..” she gazed proudly at nothing in particular, before blinking rapidly and looking back at you. “But I know you, and I know this is more than that.” 

You sigh softly, “I just… if she moves on, gets all this power and fulfillment… mine will go. What will I do as my job? Will I ever be happy in my job again?” You shrug then turn your head to the side, not meeting Juileta’s gaze, “Would I have to resign as head of servitude? Leave my job?” 

“Gracious mija! Calm down…” Julieta frantically grabbed one of your hands, making your head turn back to her. 

She gave a worried look, lips pursed and one corner pushed up. Her warm chocolate colored eyes gazed at you for a moment, making sure you were calm and adding extra comfort by being warm and assuring, before she continued to speak, “We all love you here in the Castillo.” She squeezed your hand softly, “If you were to leave I’m sure the other servants and half of the Madrigal’s ourselves would riot-“

This caused you to laugh a little, making Julieta’s smile grow a little bigger. She went on, “You were destined for this, I held you in my hands as an adorable bebita right here in the walls of the El Castillo de Encanto, and you love it! Why leave?” 

“Because I don’t know what’s going to happen and I feel out of control,” you breathed, rushing it out as you gazed at Julieta genuinely. Your brows were furrowed so tight in fear of the admittance and the vulnerability you were in at that moment. You knew your forehead wrinkles probably look ridiculous looking back on it. 

Julieta stared at you a moment, her eyes almost looking confused before they lit with a spark of understanding, “Ah…” She brought you in for a hug, “Oh mija… do not carry that on your shoulders… you were a little girl… there was no way you could control anything…”

You knew she was talking about your mom and dad. 

“You think… that’s where this started?” 

“Yes bebita,” she pulled away from the hug with a small smile, “It was how your mother and father coped too. When they were stressed they ran to control.. rules and order. Sí, I think that’s it for you. You like to feel in control because you felt so out of control when that happened. I’m letting you know right now you can relax, honey. The Madrigal’s and Mí Sobregoneta Familia will always take care of you. Come, come, let’s finish cooking dinner-“ 

You nodded, trying to lean into her words. It made sense in your head but your stomach felt uneasy still. However, logically you knew her majesty was right. Julieta could read you as if you were one of her own daughters. 

By the time dinner had been served your rapidly beating heart had quieted and your mind was at a little bit more ease. 

However, your boredom and lack of personal servitude would soon come to a screeching halt.

~~

“I now announce you as his majesty Bruno Madrigal’s personal servant.”

Queen Alma Madrigal was smiling with her chin up, crown glistening, and back straight with each of her hands placed together in front of her. 

You looked similar. A perfect straight back with knees slightly bent in a bow and knuckles white from gripping your hands together at your middle. However, you didn’t have a smile. You knew your eyes were big and face drained of color. 

That morning started out how it usually did. How it always did. Waking Mirabel up and singing with her as you gently put oils into her curly hair. You decided to brush it back and keep the top of her hair in a cute little ponytail. The sun was warm, and her giggles were sweet, and she had no malicious intentions in her eyes behind those green glasses while she excitedly exclaimed she had a surprise for you.  

When Reina Alma entered the room you bowed as you usually did, not a wrinkle in your skirt nor a stutter in your posture.  However, it was when they both opened their mouths and had you rise from your bow that things got very very off schedule. 

More so, completely flipped around. 

And now her majesty Queen Alma Madrigal has assigned you a whole new job after the one you had exclusively been in since you were a teenager. 

“Oh geez please don’t look like that!” Mirabel walked over to you and grabbed your upper arms, making you look at her. She gave her usual dorky smile, “This is literally perfect for you!” 

“Mí mijo,” Alma stepped forwards, whispering as she took a more casual stance with you- something so surprising since the Queen really, really cared about her royalty and the whole strict regime that went with it, “He’s… Struggling. He is always late to family dinner. He’s not getting up on time. He’s too nervous to use his gift and to go out into town. We have tried what we can to convince him, and he…” she stopped, swallowing, looking at her granddaughter. 

The bright butterfly continued for her royal family member, “He refuses a personal servant. I think he’s just shy. Maybe embarrassed. And probably really scared.” She smiled at you softly, pushing up her glasses and continuing, “He really needs some order and routine right now.” 

Okay, now she was clearly trying to cater to you. 

Queen Alma stepped forward and stooped down a little to your eye level so you could see her scalp, placing her royal, magical hand on your shoulder and it made you feel so humbled. However, she herself humbled instead, looking into your eyes and meekly begging, “You did such a wonderful job making sure Mirabel grew up, despite my best efforts, knowing she was good enough and could be happy.” You relished a little bit in how the Queen openly admitted her faults when it came to Mirabel, and you relished even more in the small, soft, warm smile the two shared after her words. “You are so talented and wonderful at what you do. You clearly care for the El Castillo de Encanto, the magic itself, and our family. Extend your helping hand to me, once again, but allow me to ask for the betterment this time,” Alma moved to stand up straight, putting her hand under your chin with her fingers curled in so only the knuckle of her pointer finger gently nudged your chin upwards too, “Mí Brunito needs you. I believe your magic touch-“ her lips curled in a small smile making you smile too- “will break him out of his shell and let him relax in his new life. I want more than anything to let my son know he is valued by the Encanto, by our blessing, by our family, and more so, to be proud of himself the way I am now so much more proud of him.” 

You let out a sigh exclusively from your nose, shutting your eyes for a moment. 

Everything made sense. You had to let go of Mirabel. She is grown up now. You were being put in a position where you were needed most. 

You thought of your dad. How he used to take care of Bruno. How he implored people to be kinder, how he saw his master and friends true nature and how it deeply distressed him when nobody would see it too. 

You thought of what happened when Bruno disappeared.

You opened your eyes. You wanted to fulfill the legacy set before you by two people just as loving and passionate as you were. 

You have a small nod, looking between both of the Madrigals, “I would be honored to take his majesty Bruno Madrigal as my master.” 

Both of them smiled. Soon, there were four arms wrapped around you in a hug.

In the distance you heard the faint noise of sand in the wind.

Fair warning, future chapters will have smut. 18+ I will tag it when it's appropriate Correct me on any spellings, bad grammar, and ESPECIALLY on poor translation. Thoughts? Feelings? If you have none: what kind of royal would *you* be?

[dnickels]

is the gilded age……good? watchable? if someone got dragged into the fellowes gyre in 2011 after imprinting on downton abbey like a miserable little duckling will the gilded age make them more or less insane asking for a friend

"Is this television show good" imagine me fumbling and dropping my papers like a nervous first-time lawyer in front of a scowling judge. W-well Your Honor, what is 'good' television, anyway? According the Oxford English Dictionary, the word 'good' first appeared in writing nearly one thousand years ago...

I don't think its as good as Downton, if that's what you're looking for. The first season is pretty rough, much of it feels off-- like the actors and the directors don't really know what to make of all this, and the writing is hesitant-- its just not there. Fellowes is a little like George Lucas in that an experienced actor can take his roughest cuts and turn them into gems while newbies founder. There's so much going on it feels like a show that was pitched as potentially two or three different shows and HBO said 'yes' to all of them. That being said it looks gorgeous and enough nonsense is happening to make it worth watching-- Carrie Coon throws a tray! Christine Baranski speaks only in cutting one-liners! Someone is pretending to be French!-- and every once and a while they hit on a really salient moment (I'm shocked by how thoughtful the 'Marian meets Peggy's parents' storyline is). Season two feels much more coherent, there's fewer clangers in the writing and the actors are getting good direction-- I think everyone had to realize "oooh, it's camp, I get it now" and lean into moments like "camera holds while Christine Baranski appears backlit silhouetted in the church doorway like the evil fairy coming to curse everyone at the christening"

"Is it good?" (so-so hand motion) "will I scream obscenities at the television?" yes! this I guarantee!

[mercurygray]

Not to go and ask everyone this but ...#8 for the BoB ask meme?

How did you find out about the show?

In 2001 I was in 7th grade, and very, very aware that everyone else had access to far more TV than I did. Band of Brothers was going to be this big, buzzy series and even though I hadn't seen Saving Private Ryan, or even been really interested in World War two at that point, I knew that everyone whose parents paid for cable was going to see it and that would not include me.

I remember it being a show that everyone talked about, and occasionally they'd broadcast some episodes on the History Channel, which wasn't part of cable at the time. I remember getting the sense of being left out of seeing the entire story, like I was missing huge pieces of this cultural touchpoint.

I think I forgot about it, as one does, and came back to it in college when I had a laptop of my own for the first time and I could consume media without broadcasting it to the whole house. So I tried to check it out from the library. It was almost always out. So I did what any self-respecting nerd does - I found something else the main actor was in and watched that instead.

I am not exaggerating when I say I love The Forsyte Saga, guys. Band of Brothers was actually my gateway drug into 19th century PBS period dramas. (And my library had a TON of those.) So Damian Lewis accidentally got me into Downton Abbey - as one does.

I never actually sat down and watched BoB all the way through until Senior year of college, when I put it on to watch/listen to while I set type for a book arts project and realized I'd pretty much seen the whole show in all those History Channel rebroadcasts and what I had taken for missing content was really just the style of a show that's trying to tell the stories of 140 guys in 10 episodes.

I remember thinking at the time that I could go and look for fanfic, but I also knew that it probably wasn't going to be anything I actually wanted to read. I did not have those same reservations ten years later when the pandemic hit.

[muse-oleum]

Blind Dates OC Challenge: Lady Victoria Crawley

Fandoms: Downton Abbey/Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries

Time period: 1920s/30s

Face claim: Elisa Cifuentes in Las Chicas del Cable

So, hum, I haven't written on here in a veryyyy long time, forgive my rustiness. I've been toying with an idea for a crossover between Downton Abbey and Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries ever since I first watched the shows, because it just makes sense lol. This is my introduction to Lady Victoria Crawley, fourth and last child of Lord and Lady Grantham.

I wanted to participate in @mercurygray 's Blind Dates OC challenge, and thought it would be the perfect opportunity for me to write something *not* academia related. I hope you enjoy this first snippet of Victoria and perhaps there shall be more...

Victoria missed the Antipodes. She missed Christmas in the sun, the hustle and bustle of the city, the constant activity she had known for the past two years, living far away from home and yet as alive as she had ever felt. But she missed her friends the most.

She missed Phryne’s laugh and Dot’s sweet smile; she missed Jack’s skepticism and Hugh’s clumsiness, and even her two favorite commies had found a place in her heart, though she would deny it if anyone asked. They would happily throttle her if they ever heard her use that word, but she couldn’t help it, annoying them tickled her. 

But most of all she missed Mac. 

Mac and her stern attitude hiding a softness that few people ever truly got to witness. Mac and her sardonic replies to Phryne’s less than stellar ideas—and there had been many; how she’d survived this far, she’d never understand. Mac and the way she smiled softly just for her, even when she thought Victoria couldn’t see. 

She missed that smile most of all. 

Here, in England, it was so much harder to let herself truly be. But with Mac, tentatively at first, and then more fully once they’d both understood the coast was clear, that they would be safe with each other, it had been different. With her almost two decades more of experience, Mac had been a friend, at first, someone whom she could trust with her most damning secret, before it had morphed into something more. 

And just as quickly, Victoria had been called back to England, her grand-mother on her deathbed, asking for her. She hadn’t seen her once in the last two years, not since she’d left Downton behind after yet another row with her father, neither willing to bend before she’d decided to break instead. But the Dowager Lady Grantham was not someone to be refused and when she had demanded of her youngest grand-daughter that she should write to her, Victoria had made a half-hearted promise that she would. 

She regretted not keeping it, now. 

1928 was proving a difficult year for her family. Between her grand-mother’s illness, her mother’s tiredness (a false alarm, thankfully) and her own problems to face, returning to Downton in mourning had not been something to look forward to. She had left angry and she'd returned apprehensive. 

Mac would have helped, but she could hardly bring her to England while her family mourned yet another passing. She had offered, of course, wanting to be there for her as Victoria had been in the past, insisting that she could take a room at the Grantham Arms, that no one would be the wiser… But it was a lie and they both knew it. Lying, after all, was an art they had mastered; anyone in their position had to be a damn good liar in order to survive. 

And now, as she sat in the library, alone with the fire cracking in the grate, the quiet of the Abbey playing with her nerves, she wondered why she’d come home at all. And could she still call it home? It wasn’t anymore, not really. Home was with Phryne and Mr Butler, waiting for the next case to drop so they could make sure to crash down at the station, taking perverse pleasure in eviscerating Jack’s well-laid plans in moves that would have had her parents tying themselves into knots. He complained—a lot—but she knew he secretly loved it. 

She also knew that he was not so secretly half in love with Phryne, but she had an inkling that he’d rather be caught dead than admitting it. So she hadn’t pushed… yet. 

The door to the library opened, pulling her back to the present. 

“I thought I’d find you in here,” Edith said, closing the door softly behind her. 

Once upon a time, if someone had asked her which of her three elder sisters she’d most looked up to in her youth, she would have said Sybil. But after her death, she had grown closer to Edith, finding a source of comfort in her sister’s embrace, and amusement at the shrewdness she so easily disguised as passiveness. She had admired that; her ability to hide what she was feeling almost to the point of quasi-invisibility. A wallflower, that’s what Mary had called her, once, when she was feeling particularly vindictive. 

Edith may look like a flower, with her honey-blonde hair with a dash of red, which they’d both inherited from their father, her pink lips and beautiful green eyes, but she could be a thorny one too, and Mary often seemed to forget that. Victoria, on the other hand, had always been much quieter than either of her dark-haired sisters, trying to find her place as the youngest of four—and the disappointment of everybody’s hopes. But she and Edith were alike, and it had only become more apparent as they grew from girlhood to womanhood. 

Perhaps because of the age difference between Mary and herself, Victoria had never found herself on the cutting edge of her eldest sister’s sharp wit. If anything, she suspected that Mary was quite fond of her, if a little distant, as was natural for an eldest facing much larger troubles than the rearing of her littlest sister. While their twelve years difference had put a certain distance between Mary and herself, Edith and Sybil had loved to play with her, and, when the time came, taught her much more than their mother when it came to matters of the heart. And she'd learnt much.

Or at least as much as she could learn from two sisters for whom there had never been the slightest doubt that they would marry a man.

In truth, if Victoria thought long and hard about it, she remembered certain looks and allusions that Sybil had dropped, which made her think that perhaps she had known, just a bit, what her little sister was only just discovering. But then she'd died and left a gaping hole in their family that would never truly heal. 

But Edith, Victoria thought, would understand. Edith, she could tell, one day. 

“I’m very predictable,” she answered, smiling, laying her long-forgotten book on her lap. 

Her sister threw her a disbelieving look. “I wouldn’t say that,” Edith said, sitting down on the sofa next to her. “I still remember the shock on Mama’s face when you hurled yourself out of the door two years ago. Personally, I applauded you.”

“Of course you did,” she laughed, rolling her eyes. 

They fell silent, Edith lost in contemplation of the fire and Victoria pondering the qualities of sisters. On the tea table, a picture of her grandmother, all blonde curls and so young, taunted her. She quickly averted her eyes, unsettled by the clear blue gaze of a woman who was not here to scold her anymore. She noticed her sister looking at her, her eyes saddened by their recent loss but heavy with something else.

“There’s something I’d like to tell you.”

Victoria looked up from the cover of her book which she’d been fingering absent-mindedly, the silence between them natural enough that she had almost forgotten her sister’s presence. 

“It’s about Marigold.”

[more-than-a-princess]

@quickdeaths asked: [ cherry ] what is one thing you love about yourself? + [ canary ] do you have pets? if yes, how many and what? + [ olive ] what gives you the most inspiration for your muse(s)? + [ mauve ] give one random headcanon about your muse / one of your muses.

Colourful Interview (Munday meme) - Accepting!

[ cherry ] what is one thing you love about yourself?

These questions are never my favorite because it's awkward to brag about anything in my family unless it is professional/career success, but in contrast to a lot of my extended family, I'm very determined to succeed that way but on my own terms. A lot of my family rests on their laurels, so to speak, and feels they don't really have to work hard to be well-off and successful. But I've worked my way from the ground up at my job and while I'm not satisfied with where I'm at right now (and can do much better), I can still say I did it myself.

This is in contrast to extended family members being terribly puzzled why I simply can't 'summer in Tuscany' this year, or spend all of fall exploring wineries throughout France. No, I have a full-time job with health insurance, a 401k, and limited days off but I've earned them with my own hard work. And I'm proud of that (and used zero parental connections to get hired in the first place).

And in a slightly vain love: my fashion sense is on point and my friends know that if they want my opinion, I will not sugarcoat it for them. It's not easy to dress a plus-sized body with decent fabrics, cuts meant for my size, and not have it look like a fast fashion disaster or something a retiree might wear.

[ olive ] what gives you the most inspiration for your muse(s)?

Probably the best answer is what doesn't give me inspiration for my muses? Ha. And it's mostly things like fantasy literature/TV/movies (Game of Thrones would be the obvious example, but other things similar to that), video games, and most anime/manga interpretations of royalty. While they're fun to read, they don't really help cultivate the vibe I've always wanted to write for Sonia and her family, which has always been rooted in historical fiction, biographies, documentaries, contemporary fiction of royalty and upper classes in general, and news/current events. Not that there's anything wrong with the fantasy royal route: it's just not my thing.

But otherwise here's a few things:

Books: From classics written by Jane Austen, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Edith Wharton to more contemporary offerings from Dominick Dunne, Julian Fellowes, Tom Wolfe, and Kevin Kwan...I read. A lot. And beyond romance novels of all sorts, rich and/or royal problems are my particular literary interest. Ironically, the reading list that the character Corinna provides Kitty Pong Mrs. Bernard Tai in China Rich Girlfriend as part of her 'Appeal to old Hong Kong money crash course' is a good start. (Mild spoiler for book series that's been out for years, but still)

TV/Movies: Split between historical dramas (of comedic and less-comedic varieties), documentaries, and contemporary dramas most of the time. Considering how both quiet luxury and mocking the super rich are both trending right now (ahead of the likely recession), it's hard not to watch things like The Menu, The White Lotus, and Succession for some inspiration. Otherwise, everything from Downton Abbey, Bridgerton, The Gilded Age, and The Great to The Royals, Gossip Girl, Elite, and The Crown is up for fair game. I watch some Asian dramas too, but often more contemporary than historical for inspo. And plenty of royal documentaries (and I'll probably be watching King Charles III's coronation live, too).

Publications: Tatler (and I've mentioned it IC, too!), Town and Country, and Vanity Fair especially. But I look over gossip magazines as well for scandal inspiration.

Royal websites and social media: Yup. These too, for a variety of royals. Great for checking out social diaries, charity ideas, etc. For the fan questions Sonia and her family are asked? I follow royal confession and shitpost accounts for inspo. I had no idea there were so many people who diligently tracked when and where pieces of various crown jewel collections are worn, but they exist.

Real life: And finally, some of my ideas/plots/headcanons come from people and situations I know and/or experience personally.

[ mauve ] give one random headcanon about your muse / one of your muses.

Going to piggyback off the last question for this, but one of my headcanons for Sonia's younger cousin Sam (Prince Samuel of Novoselic. His father, Prince Arthur, is the King's younger brother. And a duke in his own right, alongside being a giant headache for a lot of people, Sam included) is that he learned how to fly a plane before he learned how to drive a car. This was an acceptable hobby growing up for him, as it would allow him to serve in the national air force for mandatory service required of all Novosonian royal men. But mostly, he wanted to learn because he could blissfully block out all of the family stress and squabbles thousands of kilometers in the air.

In the clouds, no one cares about the royal line of succession, net worth, who's who in the peerage, who went to which school and knows which person, who runs which charity, etc.

It's just him (and an instructor, and a bodyguard), the controls, and the sky.

This headcanon and the reasoning for it are based off of someone I know very well, and while they don't know I included this in one of my OCs for Sonia's family (hell, they don't even know I RP), I'm happy to honor them in this way.

Maybe after I eventually write the whole "Royal Residences" headcanon post I should work on a Sonia's family tree headcanon post

[ canary ] do you have pets? if yes, how many and what?

Ah yes, time to pay the pet tax!

Yes, I have one cat of my own. This is Molly, aka. Princess Molly, the true ruler of the house and my life.

She is a formerly feral buff tabby tuxedo girl, thus the notched ear. A rescue organization saved her from a cat colony when she was six months old, holding her own against a bunch of adult cats. I knew she was the cat for me at adoption day when she tucked herself into my arms and hissed at kittens and human children alike.

I like kittens, but I've got no interest in having human children of my own, so we really are kindred spirits.

Molly enjoys: sunny spots, windows, seafood feast, chicken feast (but only if the chunks are mushed up by me or my husband with a fork before presenting it to her. She doesn't like the pureed version: only the chunks but further pureed by hand), quiet, solitude, sitting on my belly while I read, watching the electric kettle come to a boil, my leather shoes and handbags (the higher the quality, the better to rub her face on), heated blankets, watching British dramas, grooming herself and her parents, sleep, ordering her mother and father around.

Molly dislikes: noise, anyone besides her mother and father entering the house, when her mother and/or father leave the house (they may not be coming back!), closing the bathroom door so she can't supervise shower and/or toilet time, stompy feet, salmon, turkey, coughing, sneezing, other cats, dogs, children of all sorts, people, cleaning her perch mats, when her catnip toys lose their flavor, and Amazon Alexa.

[iwantthemtostay]

⭐ for any of your fexi fics please!

For the now timeline in 'when i'm with you (it's alright)' (which is the Fleetwood Mac version so we're all clear, Marie had this vinyl it is known)

Fez is surprised when Lexi tells him she hasn’t heard of Little House on the Prairie. It seems like it would be her kind of shit. - so, is it actually surprising that Lexi doesn't know Little House on the Prairie or do the youths just not know about it? Because even if the show isn't on as much I do think she'd be aware of the books?

she and her mom used to watch Downton Abbey together, how it was one of the few things that was just for the two of them - I really like the idea of Lexi and Suze having their shows together and I think I watched the first season or so of Downton while I was still in secondary school when it first aired with my parents

just so he could capture her when she’s at her happiest, the way he wishes she could always be. Fez knows that’s not possible or realistic though, thinks that the way he and Lexi both know that truth so fucking intimately is part of what ties them together. - this is one of the lines I reread and think I still really like, that idea of how they appear quite different but on a deeper level they really know and get one another and do have a lot of shared experiences. I think some teenagers are still lucky(?) enough to think that you can always be happy, but Fez and Lexi have never really had that luxury

Ash wanders into the living room, starts rolling his eyes as soon as he hears Lexi’s voice and then mimics making out with his hand. I wondered if this was too juvenile but he still is a kid and I like the idea of him getting to be a kid

“I used to want a younger brother, I didn’t like being the baby.” I think that Lexi might be one of those girls who wants to be older and wants to be past this part of her life and I think it would have been hard to be so close in age to Cassie but also always that bit younger?

“That’s true. I do like that idea of adventure, of making a new life somewhere.” Her voice softens, gets a little wistful maybe, “Doing that with the people you love.” He doesn’t like to acknowledge it, but as wonderful as it is to hear of Lexi’s big plans for her future, sometimes there’s a bittersweet aftertaste. A feeling that there can’t be a place for someone like him in the great things that are to come for her. Fez! My man! She wants to make a new life somewhere with you!

But other times, when it feels like maybe they’re the only people still up in this town, the only people in the world even, he can almost see a path where they both get out. Times like now. It’s a feeling he wants to hold onto and not let go. So he settles in and listens. It's open to interpretation whether this is fully in canon or something more canon-adjacent but I wanted it to end on something hopeful, that whatever happens he does have these moments of happiness with Lexi where he sees a future and makes the time to enjoy those. I think I have a tendency to tie stories up with a bow, so it was probably good for me, and definitely more fitting for this story, to leave it here.

[flokidokie]

The Gancanagh - Chapter 15

Fandom: Downton Abbey

Chapter Summary: Carson reconsiders his principles.

Read the whole story here or under #thegancanaghfic. For more of my stuff look at #flokileroux or #flokiwrites.

Tagged: @jolieblack @irrationalgame

Chapter 15 - A lovers embrace

When Carson entered Lord Aidens room half an hour later after he had ordered the servants to remember their duties, he had expected to have to remind Thomas as well, as he often seemed to forgot his duties lately. The sight he was presented with however, made him stop in his tracks.

Thomas Barrow lay in the young lords bed, seemingly fast asleep. Lord Aiden lay next to him, having moved as close as it was humanly possible into his embrace. His face was buried into Thomas' chest, his hands grabbing the fabric of his shirt, as if he wanted to stop him from leaving.

Only a month ago he would have fired the butler on the spot for this breach of taboo. At Downton servants had been fired for lesser offences and Thomas' had been living on very thin ice, but the longer Carson watched the scene before him, the more he realised that maybe the would was changing, no matter what he had to say about it.

Maybe Mrs. Hughes had been right and Charles Carson had become soft. He would lie if he denied that after all this time Thomas had become something similar to a son to him. A snarky bastard, that was, who made him livid with his attitude more often than not, but wasn't this how it was supposed to be? Weren't children supposed to keep their parents on their toes with the chaos they caused? Wasn't it the same for Lord Grantham and his children?

And what a chaos they had caused. Lady Mary had almost lost face because of a scandal regarding the visit and death of a Turkish diplomat. Lady Sybil had been running off with his lordships chauffeur, who also was Irish, catholic and a socialist. Lady Edith hadn't caused a proper scandal yet, but she was owner of a popular magazine, while being unmarried in her thirties, and would drive cars once in a while. All that was behaviour unsuited for a woman only ten years ago.

And hadn't Downton Abbey seen its fair share of changes that seemed impossible for the butler? Despite his love for the traditional, Carson had accepted electricity in the Abbey, he had learned to use the telephone and he even survived all the new appliances Mrs. Hughes had brought into the kitchen. Little by little, the world he knew had changed and the Abbey had changed with it.

Sighing Carson left the room, closing the door behind him. He didn't understand the feelings Thomas was feeling, he never did, but the look in his eyes when he looked at Aiden was the same he saw in other men regarding their wifes. Carson didn't understand Aidens displeasure of having been born a woman, never did that either, but the joy in his face when he was called and treated as a man could not be unnatural or foul. Both men had been so incredibly brave with the way they stood up against a world that wanted them dead, braver than Carson had ever been. Maybe it was time to change that.

On his way to back downstairs he passed one of the great clocks of the house. There were three hours left until he would call for dinner and therefore three more hours to think of an way to excuse Thomas from serving this evening. He had a feeling that none of the higher-ups would mind his absence much, knowing that he would be where he was needed the most.

xxx

Thomas Barrow woke up with a shock. The sun was up again, where it had been setting by the time he had entered the bed he now found himself in. A quick look to the clock told him it was past breakfast. Only a few minutes had become ten hours.

The man could feel Aiden stirring next to him, still laying as close to him as possible, wiggling his nose in his sleep. Carefully he tried to untangle the young lord from him, climbing silently out of the bed, but Aiden whined as soon as he lost contact. Thomas put a soothing kiss on top of his head.

„... don't go...“, Aiden murmured, eyes still closes but partly awake, when Thomas' hand caressed his cheek.

„I can't.“, Thomas replied quietly. „I need to go downstairs. They are surely waiting for me already.“

Aiden made a pouting face, still not opening his eyes, but wrapping the blanket tighter around him.

„Scones...“, he mumbled, making Thomas laugh.

„I'll let Mrs. Patmore know you want some, love.“, the underbutler said with a fond smile, putting one last kiss on his hair. „Now rest.“

Aiden hummed in agreement, probably halfway back into the land of dreams. Thomas tore his gaze away from his sleeping from, preparing himself with what awaited him in the servants lounge. This was not like his nightly visits from months and months ago, where he could sneak out early in the morning, before even Carson would wake up, and no one would be none the wiser about his nightly activities. It was in the middle of the day, everyone would be awake by now, servants and higher-ups alike. At least one of them had to see him walking this walk of shame.

With shaking hands he opened the door and stepped out. The hallway was empty, the Crawleys had to be somewhere around the study at this time of day, if they were at home in the first place. His first choice of escape route would have been hidden stair case that directly connected to the mens quarters, but the door used to be locked and he didn't have his key on him. So the central stairs had to do.

His steps seemed unnaturally loud in his ears, walking alone through the west wing, wearing something different than his usual work attire. He felt bare somehow..

He had almost reached the stairs, when he heard someone approaching. Thomas was frozen where he stood, eyes wide with panic, as he saw Edith walking up the stairs. She stopped for a second, when she spotted him, her surprised look soon changing into a polite smile.

„Good morning, Mr. Barrow.“, she greeted him as she passed him, turning into the corridor to his left.

„Good morning, Lady Edith...“, he muttered, not sure if she had heard him and even more surprised that she didn't say anything else. With a shaky exhale he rolled his shoulders and continued to walk.

He didn't run into anyone else on his way, which brought him to a whole different problem, because that meant, that everybody would be gathered in the servants lounge. No way he would be able to sneak past that.

With as much dignity he could muster up, having slept in a lords bed and wearing last nights clothes, he strut past the half open wall, and he had almost made it, when he heard Carson speak.

„Good morning, Mr. Barrow.“, he said, not looking up from his newspaper, and Thomas walked a few steps back, turning around to him, internally cussing.

„Good morning, Mr. Carson.“, he said politely, hiding his hands behind his back. This had to be the most embarrassing moment of his life. He caught Jimmy looking at him, grinning into his cup of coffee.

„I assume Lord Aiden is well?“, the butler asked and Thomas heard some maids trying to hide a snicker behind their hands. Great, he thought, everybody knew.

„According to his circumstances.“, Thomas replied. „He rests now.“

„And you? Are you well, Mr. Barrow?“, Carson added when Thomas had turned to leave, still not looking up. Thomas was glad he didn't, because he knew exactly what he was pointing at. He wanted to know if they had talked about their issues, without straight up asking about it. And the way his colleagues pricked up their ears, they wanted to know as well. It must have been difficult to not notice what he and Aiden had going on between each other.

„I am better...“, the underbutler sighed. „Everything is going to be okay. We are going to be okay.“

Carson shot him a brief look, before he flipped through the newspaper, seemingly uninterested.

„That's good to hear.“, he said, clearing his throat. „It was about time.“

The butler put down the newspaper and turned to the man who still stood sheepishly in the middle of the room.

„Now that this is taken care of.“, he said, now with a stricter voice. „I excused you for last nights dinner and todays breakfast, but you're expected to be ready to serve by lunch.“

Just now he seemed to notice the underbutler appearance, which was without a doubt stuff from Carsons personal nightmares.

„And now get yourself ready.“, he waved the man away. „Lord Aiden may not mind seeing you like this, but I'm sure Lord Grantham begs to differ.“

Thomas didn't understand what just had happened, but he dared not to question it. With an honest smile he nodded, turning to leave, when he remembered the young lords request. He took a step back, still smiling and looked at the cook, who was tending a broth.

„Mrs. Patmore?“, he asked, causing her to look up. „Lord Aiden requested scones. He was half asleep when he did and has probably forgotten already, but he will be pleasantly surprised if he finds them, when he eventually wakes.“

Mrs. Patmore positively lit up at his words.

„Would you look at that...“; she said laughing. „One night away from almost dying and his heart is still full of you and scones.“

„I'm afraid the scones come first...“, Thomas joked, never having thought he would talk this freely about things like that. There must have been residue adrenaline in his veins, that made him so careless, beside the fact that he hadn't been scolded yet.

He made his way to his room, making himself presentable and mentally preparing himself for the one person whose judgement was even more important and scary than Carsons. He would still have to face Lord Grantham himself.

[legends-of-time]

The Journey of Living at Downton

Chapter 40: Late September 1924

Masterlist

Emma is at breakfast with Robert, Tom, Edith, and Rose, attended by Mr Carson when Mr Molesley brings in a telegram on the salver and hands it to Mr Carson. Emma watches curiously to see him take it to Edith, who is talking to Rose. Surprised, she takes it and opens it. She looks horrified at what she reads there. The rest of them exchange uneasy looks. Nobody says a word because they all know what this is, what it likely is.

Her editor is on his way to see her which can only mean one thing.

Since Tom is busy with meetings, Emma joins Cora, Mary, Edith, Robert, and Rose for lunch. Edith is dreadfully pale and silent, and the atmosphere is very subdued.

"Do we know when he'll get here?" Mary asks her father.

"Later this afternoon." Cora replies.

Thankfully Robert changes the topic. "I should have some drawings for you all to look at before too long."

"What sort of drawings?" Rose asks.

"Ideas for how we could renovate the run-down houses in the Village."

"Why is there such a building spurt?"

"Because the war showed how half the population were very badly housed." Emma replies.

"They were shocked by how unhealthy some of the new recruits were." Robert explains. "'You cannot expect to get an A1 population out of C3 homes.'"

"Who said that?" Cora asks.

"I think it was on a poster." Robert admits. Rose and Emma share an amused smile at that.

"I heard from Charles today. He and Tony are competing in the point-to-point at Canningford on Saturday." Mary tells them.

Emma looks at Mary curiously. Tony Gillingham? Honestly, Emma is getting sick of hearing the man's name. He's one of these men who seem to not understand that when a woman says no, she means it.

"Atticus was talking about that." Rose adds.

Emma looks at her curiously. "Atticus?"

"Atticus Aldridge, the chap I met in York."

"Has he become a friend?" Cora asks.

"Yes, he has, rather." It's Mary that Emma shares an amused smile with this time. "His parents, the Sinderbys, have bought Canningford Grange."

"And now they're wooing the county." Robert remarks. "Lord Sinderby's rich, isn't he?"

"Who'd take it on if they weren't?" Mary points out.

"Well, why don't we all go, make a day of it?" Rose suggests.

"Yes, we could ask Granny and Isobel and take the children." Mary agrees. "Emma?"

Emma nods. "Why not. I'm sure Dr Clarkson will survive without me for one day. Be good to have an outing with the children."

Mary turns to her mother. "Shall I tell Charles they can stay here?"

"Of course, if you want them to."

All this time, Edith is suffering through what must sound like completely meaningless chatter to her.

"When this fellow arrives, it would be nice if you could leave Edith and me to see him on our own." Robert says.

——

The editor arrives as he said he would. Emma can't help but linger outside the Drawing room, anxiously waiting to hear that Michael Gregson is officially dead. To hear what they all expect and dread.

Her pacing up and down the Great Hall is paused when the editor exits followed by Robert. Emma can tell be is his face that it's true.

Edith emerges then and Emma hurries over and wraps her in a hug. It takes a moment before Edith returns it. After a short while, Edith pulls away.

"I think I need some air." Edith says.

"I'll come with you." Emma offers.

Edith shakes her head. "No, no I want to be on my own." She looks on the verge of tears.

——

Emma goes to her shirt at the Hospital that evening in a daze. They have been thinking Michael was dead for over two years but to hear it confirmed makes Emma's heartbreak and as she thinks of the pain Edith is in and the pain Michael must've been in during his last moments. A silver lining is that Edith will inherit Michael's publishing company.

The next day, Emma learns that Sergeant Willis is coming back with the Inspector again but this time it is to see Miss Baxter of all people.

The day wasn't busy so Emma gets an extended lunch break. She takes the chance to go home and spend a short while with the children before heading out again. She's just coming down the stairs to go back to work when she hears someone call her name.

She turns to see that it is Thomas, holding a flat wooden box and looking like death warmed over twice at this point.

"Thomas?" She walks over to him slowly as if she's afraid she'll startle him and run away, which wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility.

"I need to talk with you, please?" He looks close to a total breakdown. His voice is shaking. Emma's heart breaks.

"Uh, yes. Yes, of course."

Thomas leads her up the stairs and into the attic before arriving outside the bathroom in the men's Servant Quarters.

He opens the door. "Come in here."

Emma having felt the nervousness build up inside her the entire time he's been following him, is hesitant to go in, but follows him inside. Thomas closes the door and bolts it, which makes Emma swallow heavily. Thomas puts the wooden case down on a dresser and opens it. Inside are a hypodermic syringe, glass phials and pill boxes. Oh, God.

"I'm sorry about this." He speaks.

"Go on. I can take it." Emma urges. She's here now so...

Thomas opens the fly of his trousers and pulls them down far enough so she can see the huge, inflamed abscess on his backside.

"Christ." Emma hears herself whisper as she struggles to look at it.

Thomas pulls his trousers back up. "I thought it would pass, but it just keeps getting worse. I can't sleep."

Emma feels tears well up in her eyes. "I'm not surprised."

"Help me." She stares at him in shock. "You were always asking if I need help. Well, now's your chance. I don't know what to do."

Emma swallows, gathering herself. "We're going to Dr Clarkson, now." Thomas looks down, accepting the inevitable. Emma talks in a fast and firm voice, taking charge. "And we'll show him the... syringe, and the liquid you've injected, all the pills you've been taking, all of it. Follow me down in five minutes, and we'll meet by the backdoor. And bring everything with you, do you understand?"

Thomas nods.

Emma needs to get out of here. She moves towards the door and opens it, but Thomas pushes it closed again.

"I've done something that I shouldn't have. And if you knew what it was, you wouldn't want to be part of this."

"I know what it was. Now, come down in five minutes." Emma replies.

——

Dr Clarkson is surprised when Emma returns to work with Thomas in tow, but when he realises the situation, he immediately gets to work with his examination. Emma hovers, assisting him when he needs it.

Emma has to hold back a sob as she hears Thomas explain what's been happening to Dr Clarkson. She's glad when Thomas moves behind the screen to get dressed in his clothes again.

"Well, that's all done." Dr Clarkson says to her as they wash their hands.

"So, it won't trouble him further?" Emma asks.

"Not as long as he stops poisoning himself." Dr Clarkson replies.

"You've had a look at the things he brought, then?"

Thomas steps out from behind the screen then.

Dr Clarkson turns to him. "You've been injecting yourself with a solution of saline. It obviously wasn't sterilised." He takes his coat off. "Repeated injections would cause fever, and abscesses at the site."

"Christ." Emma mutters.

"I assume this is a course of treatment you've spent money on?" Dr Clarkson asks.

"Yes, a lot of money." Thomas replies. "I went to London for what they call electrotherapy. And the pills and injections were supposed to continue the process."

"The purpose of which was...?"

Thomas hesitates in replying, he glances over at Emma, who tries to give him an encouraging nod though she feels ready to cry as she knows the answer already.

"To change me. To make me more like other people. Other men." His voice is so low it's nearly a whisper.

Dr Clarkson has put his jacket back on and moves to stand behind his desk. "Well, I'll not be coy and pretend I don't understand. Nor do I blame you. But there is no drug, no electric shock, that will achieve what you want."

"You mean I've been taken for a mug."

"My advice to you, Thomas, would be to accept the burden that chance has seen fit to lay upon you. And to fashion as good a life as you are able. Remember - harsh reality is always better than false hope."

Thomas nods.

——

Dr Clarkson happily gives Emma the rest of the day off so Emma joins Thomas in walking back to the house. It had begun to rain while they were inside.

"Well, that'll give you a good laugh." Thomas remarks.

Emma does not feel like laughing in the least. "It won't."

They step through the gate into the street. Thomas opens an umbrella and holds it for them both while they walk along through the Village.

"And I don't expect you to understand, but I think it shows you to be a very brave person." Emma says.

Thomas laughs. "What?" He says incredulously.

"To inflict such pain on yourself to achieve your goal. Think what you could do in this world if you just set your mind to it." Emma says, trying to find the silver lining in this whole situation.

Thomas looks at her, then laughs again. "You're daft, you know that?"

It takes a moment, but then she smiles back.

——

Emma joins Cora, Robert, and Rose in the Library. She sits across from Rose, who's reading a book, on a red settee with a book. Isis is lying listlessly on the carpet, with Cora in an armchair at her side, looking through a magazine. Robert is at the writing desk.

"Why did you finish work early?" Cora questions as Emma makes herself comfortable across from Rose.

Emma shrugs in what she hopes is a casual way. "Dr Clarkson said he didn't need me. He'll call if there's an emergency."

Rose looks up from her book. "I must telephone Atticus to warn him we're all coming."

"Why don't you ask him for dinner tonight if he's free?" Cora suggests.

Emma is happy with the change in conversation. "What a great idea."

"Could I?" Rose asks eagerly before realising and toning it down to what she likely hopes is casual. "I mean, just as a friend."

"Oh, just as a friend, absolutely." Cora says. She smiles knowingly with Emma. Rose eagerly runs out.

Robert comes ambling over to them and squats down to pat Isis. "I wish Isis would perk up. I might ask Stapeley to have a look at her."

"It can't hurt." Cora replies

"So, what's the plan with the cottages?" Emma asks.

"We've found the designs we're looking for." Robert replies as he strokes Isis' ears. "They are on the cheaper side, but since we would have to wait twenty years before be gain any real profit, I think it's worth it."

Emma nods. "The important thing is that people are in a good home."

"Precisely."

——

They are all gathered in the Drawing room before dinner, including Violet, Isobel and, for the first time, Atticus. All except Mary, who apparently has a surprise for all of them.

She calls from outside the door. "Is everybody ready?"

Everyone turns to look expectantly at the door. Emma sits near where Atticus and Rose are gathered near the fireplace, so she hears them talk to each other quietly.

"What is this?" Atticus asks in an undertone.

"Oh, it's my cousin Mary. She says she's got a surprise for us. You'll love her." Rose replies.

Atticus, while beaming, says, "I intend to love everybody."

Aw, young love.

"Ready or not, I'm coming in."

Thomas, who thankfully is beginning to look a bit better already, comes in and holds the door for her and Mary appears, sporting a new bobbed haircut. Everyone ohs and ahs.

"Pola Negri comes to Yorkshire!" Isobel remarks.

"Well, we really are living in the modern world." Cora echoes.

"Definitely suits you." Emma adds.

Robert, Tom, and Billy, who are in a corner of the room at a jigsaw puzzle game, look up in astonishment. Mary does a pirouette to show off her new hairstyle.

"Golly, I'm jealous." Rose says before gesturing to Atticus. "Mary, this is Atticus Aldridge."

Mary shakes his hand. "At last, Mr Aldridge. Rose has talked of nothing else."

"Oh, she's only teasing." Rose quickly butts in.

"Can't I take it as a compliment?" They're grinning at each other like idiots.

Mary turns to her grandmother. "Granny, what do you think?"

Violet looks at her unimpressed. "Oh. It is you. I thought it was a man wearing your clothes."

Emma's smile drops when she notices Edith, who sits quietly in a corner, the only woman wearing all black, looking very unhappy.

"Emma's right, it suits you." Tom complements.

Robert, however, is not even looking any more.

"Papa, do you agree?"

"It's certainly just the sort of thing I would expect of you." Robert says diplomatically.

Edith gets up and comes face to face with Mary.

"I suppose you disapprove?" Mary says to her sister.

Edith looks at her sister in disbelief and anger. "Not especially. I'm just amazed that even you would choose the day after I learn the man I love is dead to try out a new fashion."

"I don't believe that's quite fair." Cora says.

This doesn't stop Edith. "And if that weren't enough, you've planned a jolly picnic for Saturday. Am I really expected to join in?"

"Hopefully not, as you usually spoil everything." Mary says, irritated.

"Huh. Yes, I do. It seems I do." Edith says bitterly. "Goodnight, Mama. I'll have a tray in my room." She turns to Atticus. "I'm sorry, Mr Aldridge, but you might as well know what we're like." Edith walks out. Mary sighs. Atticus looks extremely uncomfortable.

"Poor darling. She's so unhappy." Cora says sympathetically.

"But she hasn't clapped eyes on him for years. She must have known long ago he was dead. We all did.

"It doesn't ease the pain, surely you of all people know that." Emma argues.

"Should we go on Saturday?" Isobel wonders.

"Please don't cancel." Atticus pleads.

"Rose and I are going, whether you're coming or not." Mary retorts.

"Maybe it would be good for her to have a bit of time on her own to think." Robert says.

"All this endless thinking. It's very overrated." Violet remarks.

"Oh, Aunt Violet, I do love you." Rose says awkwardly.

"I blame the war. Before 1914, nobody thought about anything at all." Violet gets to her feet as if to lead the way into the Dining room even though dinner hasn't been announced yet, but what would that matter to her?

——

Emma had already asked for the day off on Saturday.

Emma watches as people mill around on the Sinderby's new estate, waiting for the start of the steeplechase. A bookmaker is taking bets. The horses, with numbers on their saddlecloths, are being led to the starting point.

Emma had taken Ivy and Michael around. Both had stared at it all with wide eyes, bouncing with excitement.

A little later, a line of riders, both men and women, can be seen racing across a field and jumping fences. Emma joins Robert in watching the race through their binoculars at the edge of the canopy where they are joined by Cora, Isobel, Violet, Rose, Billy, Tony Gillingham, and Charles Blake at various tables.

Emma is anxiously chewing her lip the entire time, particularly when one of the riders is thrown. Emma joins in with the spectators in cheering as they approach the end point of the race.

Emma moves back to her seat. Charles is sitting next to her, dressed for riding, and looking like he's almost sick with nerves but he gives her a weak smile.

"I hope I will get that enthusiasm when I'm out there." He remarks.

Emma gives him a pitying smile. "Don't worry. I'll be your number one supporter."

Charles chuckles. "Where's Mr Branson?"

"This isn't exactly his scene." He'd also argued that he had a new tenancy contract to check and that he wanted to go through the figures for the repair shop. Emma wondered how necessary most of that is but she doesn't argue.

Robert moves to sit next to Isobel and Violet at the other table. He leans back to talk to Charles. "Well, I think you are very brave."

Charles looks like he would've scoffed if he wasn't so nervous. "Brave? I'm petrified. I don't even know the horse I'm riding."

"How long is the course?" Rose asks Tony.

"Three miles. Twice round a course of a mile-and-a-half, to sort of–" he gestures, "–where you can see that steeple over there."

A woman, also dressed in riding clothes, including breeches rather than the more traditional riding dress for women, comes walking in under the canopy. "Well, hello."

Tony looks at her in surprise. "What on earth are you doing here?" He seems familiar with this woman.

"What do you think? Riding a point-to-point." The woman replies. Tony kisses her cheek. Very familiar.

Robert stands up and walks over to them. "Won't someone introduce us?"

"Miss Mabel Lane Fox. Lord Grantham." Mabel nods pleasantly to Robert.

This gets Emma to sit up straight. This is Mabel Lane Fox?!

"Where are you staying?" Charles asks her, now standing.

"Last night I was with the Lawsons at Brough, but they're away tonight so I'll head back to London." Mabel replies.

"What a trek. You'll be exhausted." Blake remarks. Emma gives him a suspicious glance. Is he up to something?

"You're perfectly welcome to stay with us." Cora invites. "Lord Gillingham and Mr Blake will be there."

"Have you brought enough clothes?" Violet asks.

"Oh, I think so." Mabel remarks.

"I know so." Charles says. He and Mabel exchange a grin, the significance of which escapes everyone else, especially Tony though Emma gives them a suspicious glance. If he's trying to push Tony back to Mabel, Emma isn't complaining.

Mary and Atticus then arrive, also in riding gear, Mary in a skirt.

"What's this? Where have you been?" Robert questions

"Mr Aldridge and I fixed it last night. His nice parents let me change at the house." Mary explains.

"I do wish you'd call me Atticus." Atticus says.

"I must say I admire you." Robert says.

"It'd be a poor show not to ride at our own event."

"Quite right. I shall cheer you on." Rose beams. Atticus returns it.

"When did you decide to ride?" Billy asks Mary.

"Yesterday, when I was having my hair done in York." Mary says.

"What about a horse?" Robert wonders.

"Stephen rode Trumpeter over this morning. They're down by the starting post."

"This really does seem like too much of a coincidence. Are you stalking me?" Tony says to Mabel.

"I shall ignore that, as I'd hate to think of you as a vain man." Ugh, apparently being stalked is supposed to be taken as a compliment in these times.

"Well, you certainly know how to surprise."

"That sounds like a compliment. I must say hello to Charles." She walks past him towards Blake. Tony looks like he feels like an idiot but quickly brushes it off as he leans over to greet Atticus, who has taken a seat next to Emma. When Mabel arrives at Blake's table, he kisses her on the cheek. The two begin whispering together before she gives him a friendly pat on the arm. They are definitely up to something.

——

The steeplechase is still in full swing. It's the next group's turn, including Tony, Charles, Mabel, Mary, and Atticus.

Just outside the canopy, Robert is carrying George on his arm as he looks through a pair of binoculars. Next to him, Billy holds Sybbie, Emma with Ivy while Nanny is carrying Michael on her hip and pointing. Rose had gone off to cheer on among the spectators while Cora, Violet, and Isobel watch from inside the canopy.

They watch on as the participants climb onto their horses, getting ready to go.

"They're just about ready to go." Robert observes.

Sybbie looks towards her grandfather. "Let George look, Donk." Robert sighs at the nickname but holds the binoculars for George. The two-year-old frowns in concentration as he looks through them.

Sybbie turns back to the binoculars her father is holding for her. "Daddy, look! Aunt Mary!"

"I can see her too!" Ivy cries.

Emma laughs and Billy grins. "Very good." The latter says.

The riders and their horses ride to the starting post. Emma chews her lip anxiously. Here's praying for no accidents.

The riders line up. A man with a flag gives the signal to start, and they're off. The crowd cheers.

Ivy smiles and chatters happily in her mother's arms as they share a pair of binoculars between them. Ivy turns to look over her shoulder at Sybbie, gesturing and chattering to which Sybbie replies. Billy and Emma share a grin over their daughters' heads.

Mary is racing along with the best of them, overtaking Charles. Tony and Mabel are racing side by side. Emma can see that Mabel is laughing.

Mary sets her horse at a frighteningly high fence and takes it with ease. They soon arrive back at the starting post and slow down, finishing the first round. Mary is the first woman to finish. Emma claps and cheers with her children, Nanny, Robert, George, Billy and Sybbie.

——

Emma, Billy, Cora, and Robert emerge from the canopy as Mary, Blake, Rose, and Atticus go to meet them after getting some drinks.

"Well done, and thank God you're all back in one piece," Robert remarks. A tweed-clad couple comes walking towards them. "Who's this?"

"These are my parents." Atticus explains, before introducing everyone, "Mother, Father, this is Lord and Lady Grantham, Emma Branson, Billy Prior. Lady Mary you already know. Lord Gillingham, Mabel Lane Fox, Charles Blake and, of course, Rose."

Nods and bows all around.

"Lady Rose, how lovely to see you again." Lady Sinderby greets warmly. Good to see Rose is on good terms with her potential mother-in-law. "Why don't you all come back to the house to bathe and change?"

"I'm going to leave it until we get back to Downton but thank you." Tony replies.

"I can't tempt you to stay for dinner?"

"Not today, when we're all covered in dust. Why don't you all come to Downton tomorrow for dinner?" Cora invites.

"That seems rather an imposition." Lord Sinderby says.

"Not at all."

"Then we'd be delighted." Lady Sinderby accepts, looking almost pointedly at her husband.

"You haven't met my mother-in-law and our cousin, Mrs Crawley." Cora gestures at the two ladies, who have remained at their table under the canopy.

Lady Sinderby nods across to them. "Good afternoon." Her husband touches his hat.

——

Edith is gone. That's what Tom said when they all returned to Downton. She didn't tell him much, just that she needed to leave. He had offered to give her a lift somewhere but she had refused, saying she would take one of the cars to the Station and leave the keys with the station master.

Tom immediately offers to walk down to the Station to collect it. Emma hurries after her husband.

"Did she really not say why?" She questions him as he gathers his coat and hat.

"No, she didn't. She wouldn't say," Tom admits, "but it has to be about Michael Gregson, right?"

Emma frowns. "Suppose so. I can't help but think it might be something else as well."

"Like what?" Tom asks as he shrugs on his coat and places his hat on his head.

A little girl at the farm that Edith seems so attached to in recent months. One where she looked heartbroken at the idea of spending time away from her.

"I don't know I can't say, not just yet."

——

A/N: Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

[livingasaghost]

it's crazy how we bury the real memories of our favorite things because we get so wrapped up in the things themselves - like the reason i love lost so much is because my parents and i watched it together for the first time while i was in high school and we'd stay up late popping in dvd after dvd pretending like we didn't have to wake up early the next day. and the reason i love shakespeare so much is because i spent four or five summers doing acting camp with some of his works and some of the most hilarious people i've ever met. and the reason i like downton abbey is because my best friend introduced it to me and we'd watch it together in her basement.

[chill-that-ur-inmyhead]

1 - Are you interested in any reality TV shows? I really enjoy watching those shows when I am with friends but by myself not really.

2 - When was the last time you made plans with someone? What were you going to do with that person? Mother has booked a trip to Highclere Castle where Downton Abbey is set in August!

3 - How often (if ever) do you use moisturiser? Day and night

4 - Name five things you can touch from where you’re sitting right now: Candle, water bottle, vinyl records, scarf and hairspray  

5 - Have you had any of your wisdom teeth removed? What was the reason? (eg. infection, impaction, lack of space). I haven't

6 - What was the reason for your last hospital visit? I got a covid booster jab!

7 - Where was the last place you had an itch? legs!

8 - If you’re on a long car journey, would you rather drive or be the passenger? passenger but I will ofc do my fair share of the driving if needed

9 - What’s the earliest time you’ve had to wake up for work? What about the latest time you’ve clocked off for the day? For my current work 7am but I've had jobs where 6am starts meant getting up at 5am

10 - Do you use a laptop, desktop, tablet or phone to take your surveys? laptop since so much easier and my finger cramps up if I use my phone

11 - Are you fussy when it comes to how your surveys are formatted on your blog? Not at all

12 - How old were you when you first got internet access at home? Was it broadband or did you have dial-up first?  Since I can remember

13 - When was the last time you painted your nails? myself? last year probs but it never lasts

14 - What’s your typical order when you go to Starbucks (or wherever your favourite coffee shop is)? chai latte or matcha latte usually from pret

15 - What’s your favourite thing to have on toast? strawberry jam

16 - Do you have any debt? If so, are you on top of paying it all back? student loans and no

17 - What was the last thing you purchased with a credit card? Sainsburys shop

18 - Have you been to college/university? If so, has your degree been useful to you or was it a bit of a waste of money? YES, undergrad in English, converted that to a graduate diploma in law for a year and just finished the legal practice course masters. For what I want to go into, it has not been a waste of money and it was the right path for me.

19 - How often do you travel by public transport? For the past year, never, but when I move back to the city I will use it often.

20 - Do you have an instagram account? If so, how often do you post on there and what kind of things do you post? I do and I really don't post often at all maybe once a year.

21 - Are you close to your extended family? Do you wish you were closer? I'm fine with it tbh

22 - Do you prefer to give your pets human names or not? I wouldn't be opposed to it but it won't be my first choice

23 - Do you like having ice in your drinks? Yes

24 - When was the last time you went to a BBQ restaurant? Too long ago

25 - When was the last time you re-arranged the furniture? Is this something you like to do often? I used to love rearranging my room and showing my parents but haven't done it for a while.  

26 - Have you ever used a fire extinguisher? Would you know how to use one without reading the instructions? I have not and probs not maybe I should youtube it to be prepared.

27 - What’s the worst thing you’ve ever had to deal with at your job? Client's that are unhappy although my most recent company haven't had too many occasions of unhappy clients.

28 - What was the last thing you used your mobile phone for? listened to a voice note my friend sent me

29 - Did you used to play The Sims? What version or expansion pack was your favourite one to play? YES specifically Sims Castaway on PSP

30 - What was the last thing you used a lighter for? Lighting a candle

[interview-project]

Movies/Video

Growing up, my great aunt Naomi didn’t visit movie theaters, her parents thought they were too secular. When asked if she ever visited them anyway, she said “Oh Heather! No, of course not.” Tammie, my first cousin once removed who was with Naomi while we spoke, could be heard laughing in the background. It’s unlike my great aunt to do things she isn’t supposed to. 

While they didn’t visit theaters, she was still able to watch movies on television. Two she could remember watching and loving are The Agony and the Ecstasy (1965) and So Big (1953), “ I just thought that those were great movies at 19. But I don’t think I remember the plots very well now. I know that I had read the book that So Big was based on, and that’s why I watched it.” These movies she watched on “regular TV! It was before we even had a VCR, so I would just go through the channels looking for something.” 

Pictured below is the poster for The Agony and the Ecstasy (1965). Original image source here.

The first movie Naomi watched in theaters was Valley of the Dolls (1967). She went with her roommates to a drive-in theater in Tahlequah, Oklahoma, and she thinks they parked near the middle. They didn’t go very often at first, and she was able to list several of the movies she saw in order and in what towns she saw them. This was very impressive to me, but she couldn’t recall the names of the theaters. She also recalls going on dates with her then-boyfriend when she worked as a nurse in the Navy. They would go to a movie theater in Cincinnati, Ohio that she could not recall the name of. She also spoke about how she was with her father the first time he ever visited a theater. “We watched Hello Dolly and I just remember the look on his face so clearly. He was very impressed by the largeness of the screen and the amount of people there. He was visiting me in Waukegan, Illinois.” She didn’t start getting concessions at movie theaters until she had children. She remembers taking her daughters to Snow White at a theater in Tulsa, Oklahoma and being shocked at how the movie was actually a little scary. “I just remember how surprised I was at some of the things that queen was doing! It was wild.” 

So, her first experiences were going to the movies with friends, and that shifted to going to the movies with family, and now she often visits the movies with me. Some recent favorites that we watched together include 80 for Brady (2023) and  Downton Abbey: A New Era (2022). She also visits the theater with her friends, and they’ll plan together to carpool to a theater, "like how we used to, you know, back in the dinosaur age. It’s a bit harder now, because we don’t all live so close to each other like we did [in college].” A recent watch for them is Jesus Revolution (2023).

Pictured below is the movie poster for Downton Abbey: A New Era. Original image source here.

Today, Naomi will watch movies online, either on YouTube or the BBC, but she says she mostly watches DVDs or Blu-Rays that she used to rent. “Oh, it sucked when that Family Video closed down. I remember in Oklahoma, Norman and I would take the girls to … I think it was like a BlockBuster or maybe Hollywood Video? Anyway, they would have so much fun picking out a movie. We’d sit in the living room and watch together in the evening and we’d have ice cream or popcorn. They loved that. But the Family Video in town, when it closed I bought up a lot of DVDs. But going and picking it out, that was most of the fun.” 

Pictured below is the Family Video that Naomi would frequent before it was shut down. Original image source here.

[theliterateape]

Dear Literate Ape—My Kid Wants a Tattoo

by Don Hall

Dear Literate Ape—

I have a problem that you might be able to help me with. My seven-year-old son loves Dwayne Johnson. He watches anything he can that includes him. Recently, he decided that he wanted to be just like him. I encouraged this because Johnson seems to be a decent guy, promotes a healthy lifestyle by working out, and I remember what it was like to be a kid and want to be someone special, aspiring to that goal. When I was his age, I wanted to be a cowboy, then an acrobat, and then a golfer. He's even decided that we all call him The Rock and wants to change his legal name to that. When we call him 'Brian' he loses his composure, cries, screams, and runs to his room. Yes, it's a little weird but don't all kids want a nickname?

The problem that I'm struggling with is that he now wants to be tattooed like The Rock. He is insistent that I take him to get ink permanently on his body. I told him he'd need to wait on that until he's a little older (because I'm sure he'll outgrow this and move on to a different aspiration) but his elementary school counselor has doubled down. She claims by denying him the tattoos, I am putting his mental health at risk. Further, the school has informed me that they officially support his choice to get tattooed and plan on referring him to a local tattoo artist in the next week.

I have a sinking feeling that he's going to get some huge tribal symbol on his chest and by the time he's ten regret it awfully. Isn't that more damaging to his mental health than taking the word of a seven-year-old and running with it?

INKAVERSE DAD

Dear INKAVERSE—

We are currently in a watershed moment when it comes to tattoos. The RATs (Radical Activist Tattooists) have mobilized on social media and put immense pressure on schools and mental health professionals. The campaign claims that kids who desire tattoos are autonomous beings whose wishes about what to do with their bodies must be adhered to and, if not, risks severe psychic damage and could lead to suicide.

While a bit histrionic in nature, the campaign has taken hold. Anyone pointing out that tattoos are permanent changes on young people we won't even allow to work or vote or drink alcohol and shouldn't be indulged by parents is automatically trolled online, doxxed at their jobs, swarmed by protests, and called racist (as most tattoos can be found on Latino skin—I mean, watch Breaking Bad or Sons of Anarchy for confirmation), classist (as no one on Downton Abbey or The Good Fight have ink), and fascist (because, well, if it isn't 100% progressive, it's by default fascist).

It's all a part of a trend that makes everyone a customer. College students demanding what can and cannot be taught in classes, parents lobbying to ban certain books from being available to children, and major corporations capitulating (at least in their marketing if not practice) to the loudest, most complaint-oriented groups of consumers. Face it. Your child is no longer your child but your customer just as you are a customer for the government rather than an active part. The RATs are seeking power by demanding full deference to the tattoo'd community just as you and your wife demand the government enact laws that you want on the books but don't actually do anything to promote. Based on your Google Data (Literate Ape purchased it so we could sell you shit you don't need and Google was happy to oblige) you really hate the Electoral College and gerrymandering but all you've done about it is post things on social media about the people who support both.

Our advice is to go ahead and let him get his tattoos. Sure, it's highly likely he'll be mortified in a few years, will blame you for not protecting him from childish whim, and the cost of removing the tattoos will be painful as well as expensive (the school counselor ain't paying for it) but such is the price to be paid indulging children and activists.