#thoams barrow

[bitletsanddrabbles]

All of your titles are intriguing! But I’m going to go with “Bullies” and/or “Dead Swallows”

OKAY! Neither of these have gotten very far, so sharing snippets is a no-go, but I can do summaries and trivia!

Bullies: I’ve actually posted the intro to this one as a WIP Wednesday. It’s basically a Mary’s eye view of Season 6, with a bit of an emphasis on parallels with Thomas, if I can manage it without being clunky. 

Dead Swallows: This is one of the few stories where I have a very clear cover concept, and if my drawing skills weren’t so rusty that bits were falling off, I would draw it. It’s Thomas standing there, either with a white background or something similarly minimalistic, looking down at a dead barn swallow that he’s holding. It looks really awesome in my head. Who knows how it would come out on paper? ...anyway, in case the title doesn’t give it away, it’s a Thomas bump into the Duke of Punch Me Crowborough later in life. They don’t get back together. I really want to write it, but I can never quite get a beginning down since it would have to be at a country house that isn’t Downton, but now that Thomas is butler, I can’t come up with a reason for him to be there that I’m sure people will buy. I mean, Tumblr reminded me with at least three “in your orbit” posts last night that this fandom is really critical of having to suspend it’s disbelief for two seconds in the name of the plot....

...but I really, really want to write it and not just so I can have the Duke have lost a leg in the War.

...there would be Baxter bits too.

[tragic-cranky-porcelain-doll]

Guys, I really like the idea (thanks anon!) of writing about this to gay online publications!

I’d do that unless someone else wants to. Various gay web magazines have written about Thomas, the storyline, issues with the way the character and storyline were handled etc. so I could imagine this ‘loving gay relationship inrealistic'-bollocks could be of some interest for them.

How about including the tweet history, the quote by Allister Bruce, a summary of the context (as in, always related to rejection, unhappiness...) Thomas’ sexuality has been addressed so far and some links to sources about gay relationships in the 1920/30s, like papers, that gay love letter collection and so forth?

If you have any info on gay life in the 1920/30s you would like me to point out in the emails, please reblog and add them here! :)

[bitletsanddrabbles]

WIP Wednesday

Just as a heads up, I’m going to be taking a bit of a writing vacation in October, so these snippets will turn into bits from my million fifty WIPs that are going nowhere. *cough* ...I mean, hey, someone might say something that gets me going on one of them again?

And of course the month after that is NANOWRIMO, so you will be getting snippets from my November project. Of course, this year’s will probably wind up being a short rather than a full 50k, so once it’s done I’ll move on to something else....probably one of the aforementioned million and fifty WIPs.

And now, for this week’s snippet! Checking in on baby Constance and the dysfunctional group of people she calls ‘parents’.

He half expected Barrow to leave, now that he was there, and for a moment, it looked like he might. He certainly turned toward the door and took a step, but then he stopped. “Nanny says you’ve named her Constance.”

“Yes,” Tom agreed, looking up at the other man. “I have.”

“Why?” The grey eyes in that blank mask were sharp and alert, locked warily on his face. The tone of the question was less hostile than Edna’s had been, when she’d asked basically the same thing, but it wasn’t exactly warm either.

Tom weighed his words. He’d been surprised how aware he’d been of the other man’s dislike over the past months. Now seemed like his best chance to mend bridges, at least a little. On the other hand, he knew so little of Barrow, and any opportunity to change that had likely ended with his marriage to Sybil. “Everyone assures me she’s not mine,” he finally said. “I’m not so certain, but they’re probably right. So I thought she should be named by her father, not me.”

Barrow searched his face with those cold, sharp eyes, then glanced back into the cradle. Something in his face softened, although Tom couldn’t say what. It was just for a moment, then it hardened again. “That’s a lovely sentiment,” the other man informed him, looking back up from the sleeping infant. “But she’s not mine, Mr. Branson. Not really. And she never will be.”

“Who’s is she, then?” Tom challenged.

Barrow shrugged. “According to the birth certificate, yours. If that’s not enough, then I suppose she’s Mrs. Branson’s. But I’ve no claim and therefore no say.” With that, he turned and headed toward the door.

“I’m not changing her name,” Tom called after him, the words bringing him up short. “You can disavow the relationship all you like, but there will be at least that much acknowledgment that she’s yours.”  Probably his, at any rate.

“If you insist, Sir,” Barrow replied, his voice as cool as the world beyond the Abbey, and then strode purposefully from the nursery, leaving Tom in charge of the children until Nanny returned.

The one thing about this story that I find impossibly frustrating is that Thomas has an actual small human that is his, but since he can’t acknowledge it, we don’t get him turning into an absolute puddle of bibbling mush. Instead we get more angst.

...one of these days, I swear I will get a plot line where he gets to be an openly giddy father...that I actually finish. (I mean, I have one, but it is so back burnered, it’s not even on the stove anymore.)

Previous installments can be found here:

Part 1

Part 2

[bitletsanddrabbles]

So one of my goals this year is to watch more movies. This is because the only place I have a good set up to do so is in my (still somewhat in progress) entertainment/display room, on my laptop, while sitting in my LoveSac.

Why is that important?

If you have to ask that, you are clearly not my cat. Or any cat that lives in the same house as a LoveSac, but is not allowed on said LoveSac unless the human is also sitting in it. (If you are a cat who is allowed on the LoveSac sans human, you might think this is a terrible suggestion as it requires sharing. You also probably don’t pee anywhere except the litter box. Sensible, that.)

Also, I get most of my knitting done while watching movies, and I seriously need to knit more.

ANYWHO!

Today’s movie was, to no one’s great surprise, Downton Abbey. I wasn’t paying as much attention as I might have done, given that occasionally the boy does decide he needs to find a new sleeping position, even in the LoveSac, and that generally involves sniffing my face, which interrupts viewing somewhat. I did, however, manage to appreciate a few things that I’d not quite appreciated sufficiently before.

Probably the biggest example was Miss Baxter’s expression when Mr. Molesley shows up in the servant’s hall and asks Thomas if he might be allowed to don his livery and serve his king. It’s this sort of worried, cringy look, like she’s afraid of the answer. You can kinda tell she’s all “Oh dear, he wants it so much, but I don’t think Thomas will really like the idea. I hope he doesn’t say no, or if he does he’s at least nice about it. PLEASE BE NICE TO HIM, THOMAS!” Meanwhile Thomas is sitting there, not really looking at either of them, and you can see him thinking, “Oh God, he’s too excited about this. Has he completely forgotten what decorum is? He’s completely forgotten what decorum is because this is Molesley and he’s a dork. Putting him in livery would be a recipe for disaster, but Phyllis is giving me that look and maybe if I just look straight ahead so I can pretend that she’s not giving me that look, except I know she is, and ohheythere’sthebellthat’smeupgottagonicetalkingtoyouMolesleyseeyoulater!”

And it’s darling. They’re darling. They are the most darling.