#thomas bertram

[curiousb]

The Mansfield House Yearbook: Volume IX

Alexander and Theophilus - well, mostly Alexander - have decided to throw a party, to celebrate their recent engagement, and have invited their nearest and dearest, including Frederica, who's getting her first taste of uni life.

Unfortunately, the guests aren't behaving themselves with any decorum. The very-married Eleanor and the recently-engaged Hester can't resist a smooch, for old-times' sake. And the family feud between Jasper and Bennet is unabated. It's such a shame, as they were so close as children, but Jasper can't contain his disappointment that his brother is still toying with Sophia behind Thomas's back.

Good-hearted Alexander can't bear for his brothers to be at odds, and just wishes they could put their differences behind them.

He really wants everyone to just be friends. Maybe a light-hearted game of Don't Wake the Llama will do the trick?

That's better!

Meanwhile, Edward treats them to a display of his guitar-playing expertise. Knowing that his cousin Jasper is a maestro on the instrument is a little intimidating.

But wow! He approves, and it means the world to Edward.

The evening finally ended well, but the next morning, things are not looking so bright. Nathaniel doesn't seem to have got the memo that Alexander is engaged now, and hazards a flirt with his crush.

Although initially taken off-guard, Alexander soon sets him straight. (Actually, it seems that Nathaniel had more than a crush going on.)

But Theophilus is a sensitive soul, and takes the misunderstanding very hard indeed.

An apology just isn't enough, no matter how earnest it might be.

Theophilus needs some space, and throws himself into his term paper, by way of distraction.

Alexander uses the time to offer some fashion tips to Llama Guy.

But with his term paper completed in one marathon session, Theophilus is in urgent need of some fun, and Alexander manages to convince him that their favourite game is just the thing. Maybe it will work its conciliatory magic once again?

[deborahdeshoftim5779]

Fascinating. Reading Mansfield Park today in honour of the anniversary of Jane Austen's death. It's a book that popular opinion had taught me to be prejudiced against. Yet I am enjoying it, and gaining new story ideas because of it.

The beginning of Mansfield Park introduces the mysterious Ward sisters in such a strange way. We have no information about their family, we don't even know if they are in the gentry class. All we know is that they have a dowry of 7000 pounds each and an uncle in the law. Then, almost like the three little pigs, they marry into entirely different spheres of life, a straw, wood, and brick house. Maria Ward, the middle child, marries a baronet and moves to the top of the gentry, Miss Ward, the eldest and unnamed, marries into the clergy, securely within the gentry but near the bottom, and Miss Frances, the youngest, marries a "lieutenant of marines" and already on the fringes of the gentry (the marines was not equivalent at the time to the navy, it was considered lesser, paid less, and had less opportunity to accumulate wealth). The division is so exact, it's like a fairy tale. One sister married high, another in the middle, another low.

For such a realistic story, the set up feels so mythical.

About thirty years ago Miss Maria Ward, of Huntingdon, with only seven thousand pounds, had the good luck to captivate Sir Thomas Bertram, of Mansfield Park, in the county of Northampton, and to be thereby raised to the rank of a baronet’s lady, with all the comforts and consequences of an handsome house and large income. All Huntingdon exclaimed on the greatness of the match, and her uncle, the lawyer, himself, allowed her to be at least three thousand pounds short of any equitable claim to it. She had two sisters to be benefited by her elevation; and such of their acquaintance as thought Miss Ward and Miss Frances quite as handsome as Miss Maria, did not scruple to predict their marrying with almost equal advantage. But there certainly are not so many men of large fortune in the world as there are pretty women to deserve them. Miss Ward, at the end of half a dozen years, found herself obliged to be attached to the Rev. Mr. Norris, a friend of her brother-in-law, with scarcely any private fortune, and Miss Frances fared yet worse. Miss Ward’s match, indeed, when it came to the point, was not contemptible: Sir Thomas being happily able to give his friend an income in the living of Mansfield; and Mr. and Mrs. Norris began their career of conjugal felicity with very little less than a thousand a year. But Miss Frances married, in the common phrase, to disoblige her family, and by fixing on a lieutenant of marines, without education, fortune, or connexions, did it very thoroughly. She could hardly have made a more untoward choice.

Mansfield Park, Ch 1

[edwinspaynes]

Okay. To supplement the women one tag 12 CANONICALLY queer characters you love. For funsies

[besotted-with-austen]

Henry Crawford: if I marry Fanny, she will get appreciation and every comfort the Bertrams are too negligent to provide her! They are just capable of guilting her into doing things she is not comfortable with, they don't respect her!

Also Henry Crawford: * doesn't respect Fanny's decision to reject him and tells Sir Thomas so that he would guilt her into saying yes*

[junewongapologia]

It is no secret that I hate the Fanny/Henry pairing, bc like...

How can you read that book, and how Henry acts, and the distress it causes Fanny while we're in her head the whole way through...

And want her to be wrong? And want her to be the one to have to admit she was wrong?

No! Terrible, awful ending. Henry Crawford is not a good person. He's not, like, evil. But he's selfish and self-centred and thinks he deserves Fanny because he's rich and charming and made the bare minimum effort to seem like a better person. I fully buy into the idea that he likes her because he likes a challenge, and that if finally faced with what she like every day (shy and retiring and quiet and uncomfortable around loads of ppl) he'd start to resent her sharpish.

This is a book about selfishness and selfish people, and even in this cast, he's near the top of the most selfish, the most careless with the feelings of others. At the centre is Fanny, who is maligned and mistreated, but despite all is selfless and good, though she struggles with jealousy and negative thoughts and feelings.

It's a book about how she - poor and dependent and not especially well educated or taken care of by her relatives - knows her own mind and deserves to be treated as a rational, intelligent person.

It is literally crucial to her arc and the arc of the story that she's right about Crawford!

[lizzy-bonnet]

Muppet Mansfield Park. Fanny Price is the only human, everyone else is an absolute fucking muppet (derogatory).

[duskstargazer]

[2006]

“Wonderful, isn't it?” Bertram smiled, as the two fought against the pounding rain.

“What. The fuck is “wunderful” aboot this crappy weather?” Duncan growled through thinly veiled anger.

“Don't you worry, kid. We'll make it through this storm.”

“Call me 'kid’ again, and ye won't live ta see the end a’ this storm.”

“Okay, okay.” Bertram chuckled.

Duncan rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“How arr you so damn cheerful all th’ time?”

“Well,” Bertram replied, simply, “if you're well looked after and in steam, then there's always something to smile about.”

Duncan wasn't quite sure what Bertram was getting at, but also couldn't think of a retort, so fell silent instead.

[pinkyberet]

TTTE Humanized Duke, Bertram And Smudger

And Here’s Duke England, Bertram England & Smudger Jennings :3

[sandgambler]

Ooohh I love the way you designed the NG 🤩🤩 but if it’s alright asking who’s was that researcher, is it someone we know or an oc?

AHHH thank you! I am definitely biased for the narrow gauge engines!

Now this is definitely a real character, and I think they genuinely appeared for only 1 episode with no speaking lines

Say hello to Bertram, one of the acolytes! All he knows is research research research! A follower of the gods and a reader of the stars!

I wanted some of the supposed ‘older’ narrow gauge engines to be a little different from all the other forest guardians, just to mix things up and add to the lore

[spc-rambles]

So fandom, what exhibits would you like to see in a Sodor Railway Museum? Doesn’t have to just be engines. It can be ancient tools, salvaged machine parts or even what uniforms railway staff used to wear, things like that.

I remember they were planning Duke and possibly Bertram to be a part of it but besides that, what else could work?

[the-rewritten-railway-au]

The Two Smallest Engines

May 1930

The Adventure Begins (2015)

Word Count: 3,543

Since the end of the 1920 Locomotive Crisis Loan, the North Western Railway has been struggling to continue operation with its five engines. Sir Bertram Topham Hatt II makes a big decision: purchase a tank engine for the railway.

~

On a sunny afternoon, Edward, the smallest engine on the North Western, was working in Tidmouth Yard. He was chatting with Emily, who was slightly larger than him. The smallest of the two was waiting to be uncoupled from a train of empty trucks when a grand blue tender engine rolled into the yard with-

"A goods train, a goods train! The shame of it! Oh, the shame of it!" he complained. His voice boomed throughout the yard, reaching the station.

The pair of smaller engines sighed, annoyed. "For guidness sake, it's no yon most shameful thin’ ye're doin, Gordon!" Edward reprimanded as he looked at the express passenger engine. "Ye ken thon we've been havin’ more guids trains every year."

"And why can't James take them? Wasn't he bought for that reason?"

"He wiz," replied Edward, "but traffic has grown more than expectit since, especially durin’ the summer season."

Gordon huffed.

"Oh, get over it!" called out the Stirling Single. "You didn't have a problem with it before. What's so different now?"

"Other engines did most of the goods work," replied Gordon. "You should've been glad that was the case back then."

"How come?" She squinted suspiciously.

"You're very outdated, Emily," he sneered. "Old, weak, and slow. Those large wheels of yours are nothing but an inconvenience to your performance."

Emily gasped, and her face scrunched up in fury. "I-!"

"Wrap it, both o' ye," scolded Edward. He looked at the larger cerulean engine. "Start headin’ tae the station, Gordon. I'll shunt the Express coaches in a moment." He looked over to the GNR green engine. "Emily, yer guids train is ready. Please, jist git tae it."

Emily sighed. She wheeshed, a final blow towards Gordon, before leaving to pick up her goods train.

Gordon huffed, heading to the station to wait for the Express coaches. "Once the new engine arrives, I better not keep pulling them."

Edward froze. "New engine?" he exclaimed, rolling forward. "Whit new engi- Och!" He suddenly jerked back, having not been uncoupled yet. The little tender engine quickly shot an apologetic smile to the workman who had approached him with a shunter's pole.

Once Edward was uncoupled, Gordon continued. "He bought a new engine. Might replace you or one of the others."

His nose twitched. "Excuse me-?"

"Wouldn't be surprised, especially with James when we all found out about his wooden brakes."

"That doesn’t make me useless!" someone exclaimed.

Suddenly, James screeched to a halt into the yard. Gordon and Edward halted as they neared the track the black tender engine rolled on.

"James…" muttered Gordon.

"I'll have you know, my brakes work just fine! My stops are much better than any of yours."

"Oh, but at what cost?" he asked mockingly. "What about that black cloud coming from your brakes the other day?"

The ex-L&YR Class 28 huffed. "I may not be as 'grand' as you," he replied, avoiding the question. "But I'm bigger and stronger than the smaller two," he finished with a prideful smirk directed at the smallest engine.

Edward could only be unamused.

"You may be stronger but you're barely any bigger,” argued Gordon. “Your ego is, though, by a long shot."

James jerked his smokebox door open. Steam blasted out and spread throughout the surrounding area. Fuming and scrunching up his face in fury, he glared and wheeshed steam at Gordon.

"James, could ye please move along?" asked Edward, not wanting to have to separate the pair if needed. He wasn’t sure what happened between them. Five years ago, they got along just fine, minus the minor disagreement. "Gordon, jist go wait at the station. I'll be there with the Express coaches."

"But-" said Gordon.

"Go. Noo,” he repeated sternly.

Just as he expected, both engines grumbled. Once James shut his smokebox door, both larger engines left.

“My brakes work just as good as yours!” He heard James holler at Gordon in vain.

Edward wheeshed the very little steam he could and sighed before he fetched the Express coaches.

…

Days went by as the engines waited for the newcomer but there was no sign or announcement about them. While the others didn't think much about it, Edward would occasionally look around as he worked in the yard, hoping to catch sight of the new engine. Unaware of his crew, Charlie and Sidney were humored by his behavior.

A few weeks later, a tank engine rolled into Tidmouth Yard. He peered around the yard, looking for something, or someone. His new crew let him do his thing, as they were informed by the previous crew that this particular engine liked to get to know his surroundings.

"Tidmouth, Tidmouth, Tidmouth…" he murmured.

Earlier, at the crack of dawn, he asked his crew not to show him the way to his final destination once they reached the Vicarstown Drawbridge. There was no ship available from Southampton Docks to the Island of Sodor, not until August, so he was sent by land. Once the ex-LBSCR E2 reached the bridge, he was bored so he challenged himself.

He was really regretting it now.

Suddenly, a loud shrill rang throughout the yard. The lost newcomer was startled, trembling on his six-driving wheels.

The little tank engine frowned. What a way to welcome some-engine, he thought with a huff.

An engine came from the turn up ahead. "Hey, you!" he exclaimed and laughed.

"Bloody hell, ya bloke!" the little engine exclaimed. "Some manners ya have."

"Alright, sheesh! I didn't mean to frighten you like that."

"Of course, you didn't."

"Well, I didn't!" James exclaimed, in a "matter-of-fact" tone. "You seem lost. Where are you heading?"

Meanwhile, Edward was being uncoupled from a set of giggling Troublesome Trucks, having played with them for a bit, when he overheard them.

"Tidmouth!" A voice, unknown to Edward, exclaimed. "Do ya know where it is?

Edward stilled and stayed quiet, quickly shushing the Troublesome Trucks. Surprisingly, not to him, they listened.

"But you're already in Tidmouth!" chuckled James. "Where are you from?"

"The Southern Railway. All the way down south in Brighton." He eyed James quizzically. "What's up with your eyes? Why are they different colors? Did something happen? Were they like that since ya were built-?"

As the engine continued to ramble on and James fumed, Edward gasped. He whispered excitedly, "Bertram's new engine!" The elder blue tender engine whistled as he backed up slowly. Charlie, his driver, gently pet his outer cab and chuckled along with the fireman, Sidney, seeing the excitement of their cerulean engine.

Once Edward backed up to line up to James and saw the new engine, he was shocked and gasped.

The new engine was tiny. He had no tender, his coal box being right behind the cab on the back of the engine. The little engine had a short stumpy dome, a short stumpy funnel, and six small, blue wheels, but they was as tall as he and James were. A normal tank engine, Edward realized.

His livery was a pale brown, Khaki, Edward figured, with white lining. The letters "SR" and the number 107 with a small B above it were painted white on the side of his tanks. His eyes were dark teal, looking around the yard excitedly as he rambled on.

"...I've heard so many things about Sodor. What's it-" The new engine noticed Edward, who was slightly smaller than James, staring at him. "Hello? Is something the matter?" He scrunched up his face, looking at his round nose. "Do I have soot on my face?"

"Och, whit? Naw, naw… It's jist… ye're… small," said Edward awkwardly, slightly confused and still shocked.

"No, I'm not," huffed the E2, annoyed. "I was one of the larger shunters on the Southern Railway!"

"Oh really?" James teased.

"Well, I was big enough to do my job just fine in Victoria and London.” Maybe too big… “I can do the same here!" the tank engine fumed and he moved along.

"Wait, wait! Thon's no how I meant it!" Edward quickly chuffed backward. "It's jist… ye're very different tae everyane else… I huvnae seen a wee tank engine like ye in years."

The little khaki tank engine huffed again. "I may be a 'wee' tank engine, ‘sir,’ but I'm very hardworking!" he expressed pridefully.

"S-Sir?" Edward exclaimed, startled and flustered as he saw James backing up with boisterous laughter.

“Old…” murmured James.

Edward’s glare was all in vain.

Suddenly, Gordon thundered into the shunting yard. He came to a halt with a whistle and laughed. "And who are you?"

"I'm Thomas," the khaki tank engine puffed pridefully. “Your director named me!”

"The new engine!" Edward emphasized with excitement as James reversed, stopping right next to Edward.

"Oh dear," the grand express engine mourned mockingly. "The Fat Director must've made a terrible mistake. I think he was expecting someone really… useful."

"I am useful," Thomas huffed. He didn't like this grand blue engine. He didn’t feel welcome. So full of himself. So disrespectful when he’d only just arrived!

Edward noticed and felt guilty for Thomas, especially for his own words. He hadn't even introduced himself properly.

Gordon laughed dismissively. "For fetching coaches, perhaps. Oh well. If you stick around long enough, you might be lucky enough to see me pulling the Express,” he boasted before he whistled and departed. "That will be a fine sight for you."

Thomas glared at the Gresley experimental Pacific as he passed by. "Without me, he wouldn't have an Express to pull," he muttered and rolled his eyes. He didn't like him at all.

Edward sighed. "I'm sorry aboot Gordon. I'm afraid he's like thon." He inched forward. "I'm sorry for whit I said earlier. I dinnae mean any offense tae ye. Where were ma manners… I'm Edward."

“And I'm James,” introduced the larger mixed-traffic engine, following Edward.

Another voice spoke from a distance. "Hello there, hello!"

"And there's the Fat-"

"Sir Topham Hatt!" Edward forced a smile as James scoffed at him, muttering “Rude.”

"Hello there!" A short, well-dressed, chubby man exclaimed as he and his assistants approached the newcomer. He was excited to see Thomas once again. "I’m glad you three made it safely. Welcome to the North Western Railway, Thomas," said Sir Topham Hatt II with pride, gesturing to the surrounding area. "Pardon me for the introduction a few days ago. I am Sir Topham Hatt, the director of this fine railway. You will become a great addition to the place. I expect you to do very well as Edward will be mentoring you."

"Of course, sir!" replied Thomas.

"Alright then. Go on with your work! I shall be checking up on your progress now and then for the first week," exclaimed Sir Topham Hatt II. He dismissed the engines before walking away with his two assistants.

Once Sir Topham Hatt II was gone, Edward said, "He's right. The others will be arriving soon."

"Fine, fine," huffed James as he rolled away from the yard, heading to the Main Line.

"Where's he going?" Thomas asked.

"Tae Brendam Docks, I presume," Edward replied. "He diz'nae hae any passenger duties until later."

"Passenger duties?" Thomas flipped his smokebox door open and looked at James. "Isn't he a goods engine?"

"Well, his class was meant for goods trains…" Edward replied and hummed. "Things are different here."

Thomas thought for a moment. "Will I be able to do that?"

Edward hummed. "Maybe. But right noo, ye need tae focus oan whit I need tae teach ye during your trainin."

"And what are we going to start with?"

"Shuntin."

"Shunting? My class was practically built to shunt."

"Well, it diz'nae hurt tae practice, especially in a new railway. No everything is the same as oan the Mainland."

"Really? How come?"

"The Troublesome Trucks ur more tedious and difficult tae deal wit, thon's ane thin'. And the yards ur much smaller here than oan the Mainland, if ye take a quick look around. And this yard is the largest oan Sodor, besides Vicarstown," Edward replied. "Give me a moment, I need tae git the Express coaches ready for Gordon. I'll be back in a bit."

Thomas hummed in response as Edward chuffed away. The steam shunter looked around, examining the yard. It was much smaller than the ones in the Southern Railway. It was slightly smaller than the smallest yard in the Southern Railway.

"How much smaller is the smallest yard here?" he mumbled to himself.

He chuffed around Tidmouth Yard, struggling with the tight turns. Hopefully, Edward and others didn’t take notice. He didn’t need to be reminded of how troublesome his performance was. He couldn’t help it. It wasn’t his fault that he performed this way. 

As Thomas wandered about, he heard two voices. His eyes followed the sound, eventually landing on two auburn passenger coaches, tucked away neatly in what appeared to be a carriage shed.

"I'm worried about James' brakes, Annie. Honestly, I smell nothing but ash whenever he brakes!" The coach with the name "Clarabel" painted in white on their sides whispered.

Annie, the other coach with her name painted on as well, replied, "So do I, Clarabel! It bothers me so much. I do hope the Fat Director figures something out…"

The two auburn coaches were unaware of the khaki shunter looking at them. From his own experience, coaches could either be sweet with reasonable sternness or absolutely hostile. There was no in-between, just a game of chance when it came to them. He nervously approached them as he felt lonely. "Hello there.”

Annie and Clarabel suddenly went quiet. "Who was that, Annie?" the latter asked.

"It's a new engine! Hello there, little one!"

Thomas huffed. "I'm not little!"

The pair giggled at the newcomer’s fussiness. "What's your name? You must be new around here," said Clarabel.

"I am! My name is Thomas," Thomas replied. "I'm from the Southern Railway."

"Hello, Thomas. I’m Annie," said Annie.

"And I'm Clarabel," Clarabel greeted.

"And we are the Ffarquhar Branch Line’s coaches," they said in unison.

"Figures," said Thomas. “I don’t think two coaches can handle mainline passenger service.”

"Smart, smart!" said Clarabel.

"Indeed," said Annie but froze as she noticed a familiar face through Thomas' front cab window. "Mr. Perkins?"

"Mr. Perkins?" exclaimed Clarabel.

"Mr. Perkins?" asked Thomas, confused.

A soft chuckle came from Thomas' cab. His driver, Gilbert Perkins, popped his head out of the cab. "Hello, you two. It's been a while!"

"Hello, Mr. Perkins!" greeted the auburn coaches.

Thomas was confused. "You know each other?"

"Oh, of course, we do!" exclaimed Annie. 

"He was our old engine's driver," giggled Clarabel.

Just then, Edward returned.

"I'm back, Thomas!" Edward exclaimed as he chuffed into the yard. The elder blue tender engine took notice of the scene. "Och, I see ye've met Annie and Clarabel- Mr. Perkins?" he exclaimed.

"Hello there, Edward!" replied Mr. Perkins.

Edward flabbergasted. "Ye-"

"Looks like I’m a permanent driver from now on!" he exclaimed with excitement. “Can’t wait to work with this fella,” he continued, petting Thomas' cab, who laughed at the interaction. “Nice to see you’re doing well, old boy.” With that, Mr. Perkins popped right back into the tank engine’s cab.

"Oh, hello, Edward!" said Clarabel. "You're guiding Thomas, right?"

"Be sure to teach him well, Edward!" Annie exclaimed.

"Please do!" continued Clarabel, before dropping her voice down to a whisper. "And maybe James while you're at it."

"Noo, I dinnae ken aboot thon last ane, but I will try, ma'ams. Noo, git some rest. It will be a while before James comes back," Edward replied, reminding the two auburn coaches.

Annie and Clarabel hummed in reply.

"We shall chat some other time then!" exclaimed Annie.

"Indeed! It was a pleasure meeting you, Thomas," said Clarabel.

"Goodbye, Thomas! Goodbye, Edward!" The two sister coaches exclaimed before getting some shut-eye.

"Goodbye!" the two engines replied. They puffed away as quietly as they could from the carriage shed.

Once they were far away enough, Thomas asked, "So, where do we start?"

"Wit’ the regular freight trucks!" replied Edward.

…

Edward and Thomas spent the rest of the afternoon shunting. Though Thomas grew a bit exhausted, that didn't mean he had no energy to be cheeky.

During the late afternoon, Gordon was resting in the yard. Thomas was beside Edward, resting from the day's work when the little khaki tank engine noticed.

Thomas sneaked up on Gordon on the track next to him as Edward looked at him, confused. He was shocked when Thomas' whistle shrilled throughout the yard.

The loud noise startled Gordon awake as Thomas exclaimed, "Wake up, lazy-bones! Why don't you be as useful as me!" Cheeky laughter tumbled off his tongue as he raced away.

Edward couldn't help but laugh at the little tank engine's cheekiness, following him and leaving behind an annoyed Gordon.

…

Evening approached when Emily pulled into Tidmouth Yard. Thomas noticed her, in awe of her shape. She looked very different from the other engines. "Who's that?" he asked with curiosity as he backed away from a few trucks.

Edward followed suit from the train of empty cars, lining buffer to buffer to Thomas on a different track. "Thon's Emily," he replied. "She's the ane wha pulls the mornin’ Wild Nor' Wester."

“The what?”

“The Express.”

“Really? She-”

The Stirling Single’s whistle shrilled throughout the area, grabbing Edward and the tank engine’s attention. Within minutes, she approached the other two.

"Good evening, Edward! Who is this?" Emily excitedly asked.

"Guid evenin’, Emily! This is Be- the Fat Director’s new engine!" he replied.

"Hello, I'm Thomas!" the E2 greeted.

"Hello! My name is Emily," the ex-GNR Stirling Single replied. "I'm about to head back to the shed. Are you two heading back?"

"In a bit. We jist need tae finish up here," Edward replied.

"Ah, alright then. I'll see you two later," Emily said before lowering her voice. "I just hope the others aren't there already…"

"James and Gordon ur. Henry's no due until much later."

"I was hoping it wasn’t either of those two. Henry's much more bearable…" she grumbled.

"Dinnae worry, Emily. Dinnae mind em."

Thomas spoke up. "What's wrong with James? He seemed nice!”

"James is a bit…" Emily hummed, "...rude."

"But he can be nice, like earlier," Edward pointed out. "It's jist… rare tae see him be like thon…”

"Oh," Thomas said. "So you pull the morning Express?"

"Ah, I see you've heard," Emily replied teasingly. "I used to pull it all the time until Gordon arrived to help. The Other Director was concerned about my age so he bought Gordon from my old railway."

"So Gordon's the Number Three?"

"That would be me!” piped up Emily, gesturing towards her tender. “Henry's number four. Then Gordon's number five. James is number six, and, well…"

"I would be number seven?"

"Yes," replied Edward quickly.

"You really like to ask a lot of questions, don't you?" chuckled Emily.

"I just have to know!" huffed Thomas defensively. The tender engines laughed at his fussiness. "It's a new railway. I don't want to be wandering around like a fool! I want to know what I’m doing!"

"And ye will wit’ time, Thomas! Wit’ time," chuckled Edward, just as Emily yawned.

"Sorry," she quickly piped. "I'm chuffed! I'll see you two back at the shed. Bye!" The apple green single pulled out of the yard, onto the mainline, and headed to Knapford Shed.

"Bye, Emily!" Edward and Thomas said in unison before getting back to work.

…

That night at Knapford Shed, Thomas was now the smallest engine of the North Western Railway. He was exhausted by the time he and Edward pulled up to the Shed. They saw Emily watching James failing to talk to Gordon while a grand green tender engine was fast asleep.

I guess he’s just like that with everyone, Thomas mused as Gordon shot a glare at James, quickly shutting up the black tender engine. Said engine pouted and reversed into his berth, calling it a night.

Knapford Shed was like any normal engine shed. It had a turntable next to it. There were doors to each berth. From what Thomas could see as he approached the turntable, it looked like the structure had sections. The roof seemed to split into three, and each one looked identical. Each section had three berths.

"How did ye like yer first day?" asked Edward as the little khaki tank engine was turned around.

"I enjoyed it!" he exclaimed, catching the attention of the other three tender engines. However, the unknown engine stayed asleep. "I can't wait to start pulling trains and exploring the island!"

A grumble was heard, and the two smallest engines looked to find a disgruntled Gordon.

The Edwardian-styled engine sighed. "Listen, Thomas. Yer dedication is great but ye need tae learn the basics first," said Edward. The guilt of grounding the newcomer's hopes down struck him. "Neither o' us want ye tae get intae trouble because ye dinnae ken ‘em."

"Oh, I'll get them down! It'll be easy!" claimed Thomas.

Edward chuckled but his worry for his mentee persisted. The pair talked for a while longer as the others slept. They giggled and whispered as quietly as they could before sleep finally took over.

What a great first day.

~

Notes:

Imagine rewriting a rewrite you did, haha-

I wasn't satisfied with the rewrite. It was the one story that kept pestering me so I finally got the chance to sit down and fix it.

I decided to split it up into multiple stories and heavily edited the parts I didn't like. Most of it was down to the dialogue and cutting out parts like Henry's story and the scene with Edward and Gordon.

Another thing that really irked me about my rewrite was Emily. She created more dead space so this is intended to fix that, as well as other continuity errors from James' arrival arc and connotations to IRL basis/facts, such as James' wooden brake blocks and the problems with the LBSCR E2s.

Thank you for reading! Have a wonderful day! <3

[curiousb]

The Smith Family Album: Volume XIII

Continuing our tour of the Sanditon families, just across the road from the Bertrams live Bennet and Anna, whom we haven't seen in a very long time!

They're still uninhibited free spirits.

Anna is still the hottest girl around.

And they're still close to their extended families - Bennet's best friends have always been his cousins (Benjamin, Miles and Bertram).

Sadly, although they were close as kids, a rift has developed between him and his brother Jasper, over Bennet's continued dalliance with Sophia (the fiancée of their mutual friend Thomas).

Anna's half-sibling Louie is also a welcome visitor, and is keen to update old friend Bennet on this new phase of their life.

The pair are also starting to make headway in their careers.

With a couple of pay rises in the bag, they splash out on that Romance-Sim essential - a hot tub for the back garden.

Anna's ambition to romance the whole neighbourhood begins with fellow athlete, Philip.

The new hot tub is central to her cunning plan. What's a little snow, when there's romancing to be done?

[bethanydelleman]

Now that I think about it you are the perfect person to explain Mariah to me from Mansfield Park and I'm not looking to like her per se but I never understood why she insisted on getting married ridiculously fast. Like I know women needed to get married but why such a horrible choice? Was she getting too old?

Hello! Thank you for calling me perfect. Here are the relevant quotes:

Being now in her twenty-first year, Maria Bertram was beginning to think matrimony a duty; and as a marriage with Mr. Rushworth would give her the enjoyment of a larger income than her father’s, as well as ensure her the house in town, which was now a prime object, it became, by the same rule of moral obligation, her evident duty to marry Mr. Rushworth if she could. (Ch 4)

Henry Crawford had destroyed her happiness, but he should not know that he had done it; he should not destroy her credit, her appearance, her prosperity, too. He should not have to think of her as pining in the retirement of Mansfield for him, rejecting Sotherton and London, independence and splendour, for his sake. Independence was more needful than ever; the want of it at Mansfield more sensibly felt. She was less and less able to endure the restraint which her father imposed. The liberty which his absence had given was now become absolutely necessary. She must escape from him and Mansfield as soon as possible, and find consolation in fortune and consequence, bustle and the world, for a wounded spirit. Her mind was quite determined, and varied not..... In all the important preparations of the mind she was complete: being prepared for matrimony by an hatred of home, restraint, and tranquillity; by the misery of disappointed affection, and contempt of the man she was to marry. (Ch 21)

Maria is not too old, she's only 21 and the average age of first marriage in her era was 23.4 for women (Women's History of Britian, 2005). She has several reasons to want to marry, none of them particularly good: wealth, freedom, and hatred of home (also sticking it to Henry Crawford). Her motivations can be understood is we look at the two major influences in her life, Sir Thomas and Mrs. Norris.

Sir Thomas is a strict father who has allowed the indolence of his wife to deprive his daughters of an opportunity to mix much in society. Maria and Julia both really want to spend time in London and have fun. Maria sees marriage as the only way out, especially after having tasted freedom while her father was away. When Henry is no longer a prospect, she clings to Rushworth as her escape route.

Mrs. Norris is obsessed with money and married below the income she wanted. Her principles have been taught to her favourite niece, so Maria accepts that marrying for money is a duty. Maria has been taught, just like Mary Crawford, to disregard feelings in favour of wealth (a good income is the best recipe for happiness). Unfortunately (for her), Maria was never Mrs. Norris and her passions overcome her mercenary education in the end. The "moral obligation" is sarcastic, it reveals how messed up Maria's sense of morality has become.

Lastly, disappointed in Henry Crawford, Maria marries to prove that he hasn't ruined her life. What Maria should have learned from the Henry flirtation is that she is a passionate woman who yearns for love, but she never took that lesson.

Also, I wrote an imaginary conversation between Maria and Mrs. Norris, expanding on these points. I posted it to AO3 for you:

[janefrigginausten]

Wretchedly did he feel, that with all the cost and care of an anxious and expensive education, he had brought up his daughters without their understanding their first duties, or his being acquainted with their character and temper.

—Jane Austen, Mansfield Park

[besotted-with-austen]

Henry Crawford: Miss Price, I wonder what will be of Julia and Maria now! Well, of Julia and Mrs Rushworth, even if that name does not sound right at all. He is really not husband material, that Rushworth-

Fanny Price: *to herself* do not encourage him. Do not talk to him. He is not worth it. Do not encourage him. Do not talk to him. He is not worth it.

Henry Crawford: *talking for the sake of talking* at least we have the memories of our little show that never was to keep us company, right? And what a grand time it was! I reckon me and Mrs Rushworth had incredible chemistry!

Fanny Price: *to herself* do not encourage him. Do not talk to him. He is not worth it. Do not encourage him. Do not talk to him. He is not worth it-

Henry Crawford: it is truly a shame that we did not have the possibility to act, but I do not delude myself in thinking the master of this household would have an appreciation for theater. Miss Price, I do not think I am alone in wishing that his return would have been postponed!

Fanny Price: actually, I am glad that he is here now!

Henry Crawford:

Fanny Price: *oh no* I-I mean-

Henry Crawford: *open delight and condescending sorprise for being critised* oh, did you think that I was rude? Perish the thought, I would never defy Sir Thomas! Not when someone is so ticked at my impertinence! That will teach me, talking in the presence of such innocent, pure ears! Say, what do you-

Fanny Price: *to herself* why did I talk? Why?

[baldwin-10-12-d]

Done something yesterday while tired