My Own ϟ @madamrosier - Tumblr Blog

notes-from-sarah

Seems like Donk has a favorite game

the point of fanfiction is to write something so self indulgent that nobody else has thought of it before or cares

evelynapier

“Come on. Who is he? It’s not fair if you both know.”

“You won’t be any the wiser but his name is Evelyn Napier.”

#poor Evelyn #It was always nice when he showed up

drunkenvicarofdownton-blog

cora crawley | s1e1

poniatowskaja

What Downton Abbey really missed out is interaction between and so any real sense of a relationship between Cora and Martha. The only scenes they get together are general greetings or a group conversation and one scene also involving Isobel about Isobel's work with formerly prostituted women. Otherwise, Martha's scenes are mostly with Violet, but we see her also with Mary who wants her to funnel more money into Downton, or comforting Edith when she's crying. Maybe she manages to talk with Sybil about childbirth and how it's all arranged better in the States as she mentions (it still doesn't save Sybil); they fit in a brief exchange about Tom being a journalist now. But what does she talk about with Cora, her own daughter, who lives on the other side of the Atlantic, and married for a titled position? Fellowes never suggested an answer.

madamrosier

Yes, this is so frustrating! We get small comments and Cora being annoyed by her mother presence, but I don't understand why he never put those two in a scene so we could see their dynamic better. The drama is right there. We only got to see Cora and Harold dynamic in the third movie and, while I do count as a win, I'd much prefer to see mother and daughter talking/arguing/anything.

#downton abbey #martha levinson #cora crawley #I suppose Mary's contempt towards her mother being American mirrors Cora's annoyance towards her own mother being too American in Downton #I get that Julian #But couldn't you put a scene where Martha is annoyed that Cora let them turn her into someone too English?#Or something idk

the-almost-fashion-historian

sartorialadventure

From the Daily Mirror, 1914. The curse of the moving waistline....

#this is so silly #and yet I'm laughing

finnglas

when i was a tiny baby queer (aka a 24-year-old), i went to my first pride festival probably three months after i kicked ex-gay therapy to the curb and came out to my parents. being the people they are, my parents came with me. they weren’t really sure about this whole gay thing, but they loved me and wanted me to be safe and happy and wanted to be involved in what was important to me, so they came along. (i also think my mother still might have thought i might get drugged or murdered or beaten by a protester of which there were plenty.)

anyway i wanted a memento of my first pride, you know, and this one vendor was selling keyrings, and i liked it, so i bought one. do you remember those italian charm bracelets that were all the rage like 10-15 years ago? it was a keychain like that, and it had a rainbow rooster, a rainbow cat, and then just a rainbow, and so I bought it.

i run into my mom a couple of vendors over and she goes oh you bought something? what’d you get? so i showed her, and i was like, “I’m not sure why it’s a rooster and a cat. Seems kind of random. But I liked the rainbows.”

and my mom, who was some form of minister’s wife for most of my childhood and teenagerhood, stares at me like she thinks i’m joking.

“What?” i say.

“…it’s a cock and a pussy, Jules,” she says flatly, and that is the story of how i died at the age of 24 while attending my first pride festival.

finnglas

I love how every June this one gets dug up and passed around again, lmao.

finnglas

oh no is this what we’re doing now