shark vs the universe
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trying on a metaphor
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izzy's playlists!
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Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Andulka
RMH
roma★
Janaina Medeiros
ojovivo
wallacepolsom
Mike Driver
Keni
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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$LAYYYTER
pixel skylines
seen from Malaysia
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seen from Belarus
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@patanobijouscorner
apparently porn bots are now hacking into in-use accounts (I’m assuming larger accounts) and posting while the blog owner is still active.
holy fuck.
why are staff so incompetent
rather than fixing their obviously very flawed code and development, they’re deciding to ban tits? fucking tits?
that being said, although it’s so unlikely this will happen to me, please know that it’s not me posting these links and photos. Please dont click on the links.
oh my god.
I don’t really have time for Tumblr’s nonsense right now, but if they want to Make Things Right here are a few first steps:
1. A way to quickly see which of your posts have been flagged. Tumblr is obviously relying on users to identify false positives for review, which wouldn’t even bother me except I have no good way to do that. As far as I know I can a) use some third-party scripts to crawl my blog or b) just keep scrolling back to the beginning of time until I find something. (This assumes Tumblr will allow me to see my own flagged posts, and I’m not even sure that’s a safe assumption.)
2. Assurances that a request for review can be escalated to a live human. If I can actually identify which of my posts have been wrongly flagged, I don’t mind requesting a review, but I have no confidence that the review won’t be performed by the same AI that got it wrong the first time. There’s anecdotal evidence that the review process has doubled down on false positives and offered no further recourse, which just reinforces the view that Tumblr is more interested in algorithms than common sense.
3. Transparency of support. Tumblr has never been good with this, so I don’t expect this to change overnight. But as it stands, if you try to use the Contact Support form to report a problem (like a wrongly flagged post you can’t fix), the form advises you that NSFW content is allowed, because in the rush to get back on the iTunes store nobody bothered to update it. If Tumblr can’t even be bothered to fix that, what assurance do I have that anything else about the support process will work? As a user (and an asset for attracting advertising money to VerizonOathYahooCorpBiz), I would appreciate greater clarity about what’s happening to my content, what I can do about it, and what I should do if that doesn’t work.
4. Presumption of good faith. Users have spent the past two weeks running around panicking because they expect to be banished from the site and lose all their data if they can’t rapidly comply with the Community Guidelines. I don’t think Tumblr wants to treat users like criminals, or to shoot first and ask questions later, but its announcements on this matter have not made this crystal clear. This entire conversation should have began with “we have to remove this type of content quickly, and we know that will produce many false positives, but we will work with you to resolve them all as fairly as possible.”
5. Stop trying to be my buddy. Staff/Support updates are written like they want to be my buddy. Tumblr is not my buddy; they are part of a giant media conglomerate that has the legal right to throw me off this site for no reason at all. I can’t ignore that when they casually talk about changing the rules, just because they throw in a <3 or acknowledge their legalese has become a meme. (Female-presenting, ha ha! Anyway, random posts on your blog will be hidden until something something, it’s not important.) There is a power imbalance between site admins and users, and it’s annoying when admins don’t take that into account. If you want happy users, anticipate and alleviate their fears instead of trying to be just one of the guys.
ah, fun with Excel
I’m turning the results of that tampermonkey script into a clickable list. I probably could do it in html/javascript, but I’m doing it in Excel because that’s how I’m used to sorting and transforming long lists of nonsense. (did it for work for years, sigh.)
Keep reading
Ok people, it looks like if you have reblogged something that The Bestest Bot in the Business has flagged, even you can’t see it
This is how it looked in my archive - of course I have no idea what those posts are and no possible way to advocate for them…
If you click on it, this is what you get
So apparently that whole song and dance earlier about how it will be hidden literally means hidden to everyone except the OP regardless of whether you reblogged before the ban.
You can edit these hidden posts – www.tumblr.com/edit/postnumber (replace “postnumber” with the number after /post/ ) – to see what they are. I personally have been editing mine (found via this script, because it’s not like tumblr has notified me of course) to tag them “incorrectexplicit”, so I can make a list when I’m done, to send to support.
Oh, one more way of seeing the post:
https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/blogname/postnumber/
This should open it up in the sidebar. In my experience it will open even flagged posts for you, but you can only see your own.
Tomorrow (Nov. 27) is it!
So sign-up now if you haven’t had the chance to do so!
Keep reading
What does one give to a Lady who has everything?
…the Chauffeur of course! (Plus some mistletoe, for reasons)
It’s that’ time of year again! It’s the most wonderful time of the year…because it’s time for the 2018 Sybil x Tom Secret Santa Exchange!
And just like last year, this exchange is for EVERYONE (writers, artists, fans in general!)
Do you love the characters and ship of Sybil/Tom? Do you love writing fanfic about them? Or creating manips, picsets, and gifsets about them? Do you like the idea of waking up on Christmas morning and finding your own personal S/T gift created FOR YOU in your inbox?
THEN SIGN UP FOR THIS FUN EXCHANGE!
Follow the cut below to see how it works!
Czytaj dalej
If you’re European, in a couple of weeks you will be denied any and all access to fandom contents on Tumblr and everywhere else on the internet. Here’s why.
On June, 20th the JURI of European Parliament approved of the articles 11 and 13 of the new Copyright Law. These articles are also known as the “Link Tax” and the “Censorship Machines” articles.
Articles 13 in particular forces every internet platform to filter all the contents we upload online, ending once and for all the fandom culture. Which means you won’t be able to upload any type of fandom works like fan arts, fan fictions, gif sets from your favourite films and series, edits, because it’s all copyrighted material. And you won’t also be able to share, enjoy or download other’s contents, because the use of links will be completely restricted.
But not everything’s lost yet. There’s another round of voting scheduled for the early days of July.
What you can do now to save our internet, is to share these informations with all of your family members and friends, and to ask to your MEP (the members of the European Parliament from your country) to vote NO at the next round, to vote against articles 11 and 13.
Here you can find more news and all the details to contact your MEP:
https://saveyourinternet.eu
Also, sign and share this petition:
https://www.change.org/p/european-parliament-stop-the-censorship-machinery-save-the-internet?recruiter=50668942&utm_source=share_petition&utm_medium=twitter&utm_campaign=psf_combo_share_initial
We have just a couple of weeks to stop this complete madness, don’t let them dictating the way we enjoy our internet.
#SaveYourInternet now!
I’m not from Europe but #Save yourInternetEuropeans
Fuck!!!!….
PLS GUYS VOTE!!!!!!!
Why does this have so few notes??? When American Internet was in danger, everyone helped you guys. At least do the same for us.
Fandom means a lot to me and other Europeans - I can’t imagine a world where I can’t see or share Star Wars gif sets and Reylo fanart or write Star Wars fanfic - Please help us
I’m an american but studying in Germany and dammit I need fanfic
favourite downton abbey moments [16/?]
“At the end of true love is death, and only the love that ends in death is love.”
“I want to marry Sybil.”
Chapter 54 is up!
In which Cora is still pregnant at the garden party! Thomas defies O’Brien and starts making plans! Matthew confides in Mary about what really brought him to Downton and gives her something in gratitude! Tom finally tells Robert how he feels about Sybil! The United Kingdom declares war on Germany!
Read it:
Fanfiction.net
AO3
Some notes with spoilers for the chapter if you read more below, but first a plea: Please tell me if you are still reading this story. Whether that’s in a review, a personal message, by commenting on this post, reblogging and adding a comment–however you want to do it, I need to know there are people on the other end here. Writing this story takes a lot of time and energy for me. I got a whole lot of other things going on that I could be spending both on. This show went off the air years ago, but this story is still important to me, so I don’t want to abandon it. That said, it’s a lot harder when I put almost 13,000 out into the universe (like for this chapter) and have just one or two people respond. Stats tell me that more than a handful of people are reading this story—hundreds actually—but I have no sense of that based on reviews/comments. I assume that many of those who have favorited and followed this story in the past have moved on. That’s fine, but for those of you who are still with me, please let me know that you are. I’m not trying to fish for compliments, but if you want me to continue and finish this story eventually, I need to know. Eventually, if the numbers keep going down, I’ll have zero reviews to show for a chapter. At that point, I’d only be writing for myself, and I don’t need to post online to do that. Thank you! Thank you!
OK, then, here’s some “DVD commentary” on what went on …
Afficher davantage
Matchmaker, Matchmaker, make me a match, Find me a find, catch me a catch…
Ah, love is in the air, and with Valentine’s Day just around the corner, what a better theme for February than to Rock the Matchmaker AU!
Imagine if Sybil (ala “Emma”) decided to play matchmaker for her sisters and friends, and thought either Gwen or Edith would be PERFECT for Tom? Or, perhaps Tom wanted to set his mate Matthew up with a girl who he thought would be perfect for him…only to realize that the girl is in truth perfect for him?
Or maybe everybody else chooses to play matchmaker and throw this perfect pair together at last? Whatever the genre, whatever the setting, and whatever the medium, celebrate Valentine’s Day all month long and play matchmaker yourself with our favorite Irish chauffeur and English suffragette as you ROCK THE MATCHMAKER AU!
**images not mine
(quick disclaimer: this got way longer than i expected and i didn’t get to fit in the party with mary-sybil and sybil-edith interactions so there will be a part two.)
HOW TO SURVIVE THE ANNUAL DOWNTON CHRISTMAS PARTY for @zip-goes-a-million
The most important thing about me, Sybil thought, is how much I hate Christmas. Well, she reflected, that wasn’t entirely fair. During the rest of the year, Sybil tended to give very little thought to Christmas and it was not integral to her identity. Around this time of year, though, with peppermint hot chocolate and red-and-green everything, she ground her teeth together and tried her very best not to be too much of a Scrooge. Gwen, her best friend and flatmate, had known her for so long that she didn’t need to be told and yet Sybil’s own family, who had known her longer and ought to know her better, did.
Sybil did like the tenets and message of Christianity behind the trappings and politicking and she liked to go to church with Gwen and her family. Sybil liked Gwen’s large, boisterous family, from Gwen herself to Gwen’s anarchist teenage niece, her argumentative early church history professor uncle, her opera singer cousin, and her amazing cook of a father. Gwen’s family loved to shout and argue about everything from religion to art. They didn’t hide their emotions behind icy facades in public like Sybil’s family.
In truth, Sybil’s dislike of the holiday probably stemmed from the wholehearted enjoyment with which the rest of her family threw themselves into it. Her family was CoE but not religious in the slightest. They went to church only twice a year, Christmas and Easter, and going was at least as much about flaunting her family’s holidays finery and sitting in their pew above the rest of the village as it was about the religious service. Her family played at being the gracious Crawleys of Downton Abbey, never mind that Robert Crawley’s own grandfather had given over the Abbey to the National Trust and the family only lived in a handful of the more than one hundred rooms.
The worst thing about Christmas with her family, in Sybil’s opinion, was the annual Downton Christmas party. Held on Christmas Eve, the guest list included Crawleys from across the U.K. and other distinguished personage from the Crawley social circle. There was a ten-foot-tall Christmas tree placed in the entrance hall, requiring servants to climb high upon ladders to decorate it appropriately. The dress code was formal and although there was no official rule saying so, unofficially all three Crawley sisters were supposed to come with dates. For Mary this was no problem, she had been bringing Matthew along for several years even before they had gotten married. For Sybil and Edith, this was somewhat more difficult. Sybil usually brought Gwen along as her date so as not to deal with older relatives and friends of her parents wanting to ask nosy questions about her life love and boyfriends.
Unfortunately, this year Gwen had promised to spend Christmas Eve with her girlfriend, leaving Sybil on the hook as to who she could bring along with her to suffer through the absurdities of a Downton Christmas party.
Read on AO3
Her friend Thomas would have been her next choice but he was spending his Christmas with his boyfriend on the Italian coast.
“Syb, I’m really sorry,” Gwen said, wrapping Christmas presents for her family. “I’ll ask Kieran if he can–” Kieran Branson was Gwen’s childhood best friend and her closest friend other than Sybil. He was a year older than Gwen and Sybil and had stayed friends with Gwen through her family’s cross-country move. Kieran was brash, grumpy, loud, and fiercely protective of Gwen. He and Sybil got on well enough due to their shared love and appreciation for Gwen.
“Gwen, that’s okay,” Sybil said, her stockinged feet resting on the coffee table. “I won’t force poor Kieran to go to a party with me where he’ll be surrounded by the kinds of people that he hates.” Gwen set down her scissors and picked up her phone. “I’ll just text him. He might have some ideas, anyway.”
~
Sybil looked up from her notes for her nursing final. Her phone had just vibrated. Sybil avoided the dirty looks from a few of the students studying near her in the library and picked up her phone.
GWENNIE [4:27PM]: k has a solution! can u meet at beryl’s tmrw?
Beryl’s was a lovely little coffee shop only a few blocks away from Gwen and Sybil’s flat with really good coffee and the most amazing baked goods made on the premises.
Sybil typed out a reply.
SYB [4:28PM]: sure. what time?
GWENNIE [4:28PM]: lemme ask k
Sybil set down her phone and highlighted a couple lines in her notes. I should review this section again since I don’t remember it very well, Sybil thought. She made a quick note in the margins to do so and her phone buzzed again.
GWENNIE [4:34PM]: k says he’ll meet u at 4:30. does that work?
SYB [4:35PM]: yup!
Sybil wondered what Gwen had said to convince Kieran to come as her date. And why would he need to meet with her? He came over to Gwen and Sybil’s flat all the time. Sybil gave a mental shrug. If nothing else, it was an excuse to go to Beryl’s.
~
Sybil hurried into Beryl’s. “Welcome to Beryl’s,” Daisy chirruped as the door closed behind Sybil. “Oh hey, Sybil,” Daisy said in her regular voice.
“Hey, Daisy. How’s my favorite waitress?” Sybil teased.
Daisy snorted. “Your favorite? You have to say that because we’re friends.”
“You’re right.” Sybil said in mock dismay. “I didn’t want to tell you this but Ethel’s actually my favorite waitress.”
Daisy gave her a playful swat on the shoulder. “Ha ha, sure she is. What do you want, Sybil?”
Sybil glanced at her watch. 4:17. She had time to order something before Kieran arrived. “Could I get two scones with clotted cream and raspberry jam?”
“Of course.” Daisy said. “Go sit wherever you’d like and I’ll come bring them to you.”
Sybil found a nice table near the back where it was warmest and unwrapped herself from her many layers of clothing. She pulled out her phone and set it on the table so she wouldn’t miss a text from Kieran.
A large group of uni-aged boys came in, talking and laughing over each other. A blond boy peeled off the group and came directly towards Sybil.
Oh god, Sybil thought, I do not want to be hit on right now. She ducked under the table and pretended to be getting something out of her bag. Go away, go away, go away, Sybil thought.
“Sybil?” Daisy called out, not able to see her. “SYBIL?”
Sybil emerged from under the table. “Sorry, over here, Daisy!” She waved.
Daisy set the warm plate down in front of Sybil. “Enjoy!” She said, cheerfully, and headed back to the counter.
The blond bloke came over to Sybil’s table and sat down in the chair across from her. Oh my god, Sybil thought, he’s hot but who the hell does this guy think he is?
“Excuse me,” Sybil said out loud. “I’m actually waiting on someone, so…”
The blond frowned. “You are Sybil Crawley, aren’t you? I’m Tom Branson, Kieran didn’t tell you?”
Oh. Ohhh. Everything was starting to make sense to Sybil now. She had met Kieran’s youngest sibling, his little sister Nuala who was her cousin Rose’s age, but by some strange twist of fate, she had never met the middle Branson sibling. Of course, Kieran hadn’t needed to meet up with Sybil, but his brother who had never met her would need to.
“You’re going to go with me to my family’s Christmas party?” Sybil asked. “Someone you’ve never met?”
Tom Branson shrugged. “It’s true that I don’t know you very well but I’ve heard quite a lot about you from Gwen and Kieran.”
“So have I.” Sybil admitted.
“Anyway, this was Kieran’s idea. I’ve recently had a rather bad break up.”
Who would break up with you? Sybil thought to herself, enjoying the eye candy in front of her.
“–and so Kieran thought that the two of us could reach an arrangement of mutual benefit.” Tom was saying.
“Are you sure?” Sybil asked. “Did Gwen and Kieran tell you all the details? The formal wear, the old money Tories, the pretending to be together?’
“What, are you trying to dissuade me?” Tom asked. “I know what kind of thing I’m getting myself into.”
“Well, if you’re sure.” Sybil said. “I’d be happy to have you for a fake boyfriend.”
Tom grinned. “Here, I’ve got to run to work but let’s exchange numbers so we know all the necessary information to pose as a couple.” He passed his phone to Sybil and with her agreement, picked up Sybil’s phone and entered in his number.
He stood up and Sybil realized he hadn’t even taken his coat off. “Alright, Sybil. It was lovely to meet you and I look forward to being your pretend boyfriend.” He winked. “Have a lovely evening and I’ll meet you at your flat at one on Christmas Eve.”
Sybil watched him leave. This was a completely crazy idea. Part of her wanted to stop it right now but most of her was giddy with excitement.
Daisy sidled up beside her. “You didn’t tell me you were on a date, Sybil.” She said. “Who’s the dreamboat? Did it not go well?”
Sybil swallowed her bite of scone. “Actually, he’s Kieran’s brother and he’s going to be my date to my family’s Christmas party.”
Daisy whistled. “I’d let him take me anywhere.”
~
“Gwen!” Sybil shouted as she let herself into their flat. “Gwennie, where are you?”
“I’m in my room!” Gwen called back. “Did you meet Tom?”
Sybil walked into Gwen’s room. “Yes. Yes, I met Tom. Why didn’t you tell me I wasn’t meeting Kieran?”
Gwen unscrewed a bottle of green nail polish and began painting her toe nails. “Um, obviously because you wouldn’t have gone. You hate blind dates.”
Sybil sat down on Gwen’s bed next to her. “Okay, but this wasn’t a blind date.”
“Kieran and I weren’t sure you’d see it that way. So, what do you think?”
Sybil reached for a bottle of pale pink nail polish on the table next to Gwen’s bed. “I like him. He’s very fit, Gwennie. Why did you never tell me that?”
“Oh, is he?” Gwen said, airily, waving her nail polish brush in the air. “I guess I’ve never noticed.”
Sybil laughed and shoved her. They both giggled.
“You like him?” Gwen asked, seriously. “You don’t mind?”
“Yeah, it sounds like a great solution. I’m just not so sure what Tom gets out of this situation.” Sybil said.
“Are you serious?” Gwen asked. “Didn’t he tell you about his bad break up with that total arse Edna?”
“Um, he might have mentioned something about a break up,” Sybil admitted. “I wasn’t paying too much attention at the time.”
“Oooh.” Gwen said with a glint to her eye. “Do you fancy Tom then, Syb? Kieran will like that. He bet he could set you two up successfully.”
“Well, it’s not a successful set up, Tom’s not my proper boyfriend, he’s my pretend boyfriend.” Sybil pointed out.
“For now.” Gwen said, wisely. “For now.”
~
Sybil looked up from folding her clean laundry as her phone buzzed. She had finished her finals and was exhausted.
BOYFRIEND (TOM) [7:48PM]: Hey Sybil, i thought we should decide some info about our relationship.
Sybil laughed, seeing what he’d put himself into her phone as.
SYBIL [7:48PM]: good idea! ok how long have we been dating?
She got an immediate response.
BOYFRIEND (TOM) [7:48PM]: how about five months? serious but not too serious
SYBIL [7:49PM]: sounds good did we meet thru gwen n kieran?
BOYFRIEND (TOM) [7:49PM]: oh i was going to go for drunk karaoke but yours makes more sense
BOYFRIEND (TOM) [7:49PM]: easier to remember too
SYBIL [7:49PM]: nah im not a killjoy im down for drunk karaoke if you are
BOYFRIEND (TOM) [7:49PM]: youre amazing love :)
She knew it was stupid but Sybil felt her heart flutter a little seeing Tom call her love even just through text.
SYBIL [7:50PM]: what should i know about your family
BOYFRIEND (TOM) [7:50PM]: you probably know most of it me kieran nuala mam and da
SYBIL [7:50PM]: what do you study? what’s youre relationship like with your parents? nuala?
BOYFRIEND (TOM) [7:51PM]: uh i get on better with me mam than me da
BOYFRIEND (TOM) [7:51PM]: i study journalism
BOYFRIEND (TOM) [7:52PM]: nuala, well, shes my little sister so i love her naturally but shes a bit of a wildchild and ive had to get her out of quite a bit of trouble
SYBIL [7:52PM]: sounds like my cousin rose
SYBIL [7:52PM]: ok so my father’s uh technically the earl of grantham not that that title means anything to anyone anymore beside my father and my oldest sister mary
BOYFRIEND (TOM) [7:53PM]: ok yes youre familys a bit more of an immediate concern
BOYFRIEND (TOM) [7:53PM]: so super posh da and sister mary anyone else i should know?
SYBIL [7:54PM]: yes mums an american and ive got another older sister edith
BOYFRIEND (TOM) [7:54PM]: ah weve both got two siblings and an american mam
SYBIL [7:55PM]: i didnt know your mum was american?
BOYFRIEND (TOM) [7:55PM]: half-american technically
SYBIL [7:56PM]: cool! you should mention that to my mum shell like that
BOYFRIEND (TOM) [7:56PM]: and how do i win over the rest of your family?
Sybil held her phone in her hands and thought about that for a bit.
SYBIL [8:02PM]: if you pay attention to ediths interests and absolutely dont compare her to mary shell like you a lot
SYBIL [8:02PM]: for my dad if you just dont talk socialism or like politics at all itll go along way
SYBIL [8:02PM]: i forgot to mention marys married to matthew and theyve got a little boy called george
BOYFRIEND (TOM) [8:02PM]: not to worry am quite good with little ones if i do say so myself
BOYFRIEND (TOM) [8:03PM]: ok so mary and matthew?
SYBIL [8:03PM]: matthews easygoing so i wouldnt worry
BOYFRIEND (TOM) [8:04PM]: every time you avoid telling me how to win over mary i get a little more worried :P
Sybil laughed out loud.
SYBIL [8:04PM]: as long as you dont reduce mary to being just a mum shell like you more than most people
SYBIL [8:05PM]: she might not seem like she likes you tho most people think shes quite cold
BOYFRIEND (TOM) [8:05PM]: shall act as though shes incredibly warm and not just a mam
SYBIL [8:06PM]: one more person my granny but dont worry about pleasing her no one does
BOYFRIEND (TOM) [8:06PM]: jesus Sybil how much of your family am i going to be meeting?
SYBIL [8:07PM]: quite a lot actually but hardly any of them know me well and i don’t really care what they think so dont worry
BOYFRIEND (TOM) [8:07PM]: alright i wont then
BOYFRIEND (TOM) [8:07PM]: did you mean no one pleases your gran or no one worries about pleasing her
SYBIL [8:08PM]: the first
“Sybil,” Gwen called. “How were finals?”
Sybil looked up from her phone startled. Was it already time for Gwen to be home from work?
“They went alright, I think,” Sybil said as Gwen leaned on her door frame. “I’m bloody exhausted.” She yawned.
“Have you taken a nap yet?” Gwen asked.
“No, not yet.” Sybil said, attempting to stifle another yawn.
“Well, why not?” Gwen asked.
“I’ve, uh, been texting with Tom.” Sybil said.
Gwen raised her eyebrows but said nothing on the subject. “Well, nap now.”
Sybil tapped out a text to Tom on her phone.
SYBIL [8:10PM]: sorry Tom but im very tired do you mind if we finish our conversation tomorrow?
BOYFRIEND (TOM) [8:10PM]: very sorry to have kept you hope i didnt take up too much of your time
SYBIL [8:11PM]: no! this was very nice talk to you tomorrow good night
BOYFRIEND (TOM) [8:11PM]: good night love
Sybil smiled to herself. Maybe this year’s Christmas and Christmas party wouldn’t turn out so bad after all.
The Ball: A Sybil & Tom Christmas Story.
Hello! This is my gift for the wonderful syblime at fanfiction.net :)
Request: Show Era - Tom and Sybil dancing together for the first time at the Servant’s Ball 💜 Hope you like it.
———————
“The Ball”
Even though Branson thought of the Servant’s Ball as a silly affair which only helped to further the gap between classes by having the aristocracy play house with the rest of them for an evening, he had to admit he was enjoying seeing his comrades look less frantic that usual, smiling and slowly pacing around.
It was good to have a small distraction like this since the war had just recently been declared a few months back, and the general feelings around were a lot more tense and somber than everyone had been used to.
His thoughts were interrupted by Lady Sybil’s laughter. While most every other member of her family seemed carefully agreeable to be there and spend time with the service, she was doing so in such a vast manner, presenting herself as she truly was, no masks or pretense. Just her, so free and beautiful, the most beautiful she’d look yet, if that was possible.
Mrs. Hughes kept giving him strange looks though, so he wondered if maybe his constant staring at Lady Sybil was too evident. He considered looking away and make conversation with someone else, but instead he directed his steps towards Lady Sybil,
“Milady, may I have this dance?”
Her smile was kind as she let Branson lead her. If it was difficult to stop staring before, now he was afraid he would not be able to ever stop looking at her eyes.
After some moments, she laughed softly. “Branson, what is it?”
“Nothing. You just look different today. Serene.”
“Well, I must say I wasn’t aware my usual demeanor was considered clamorous.”
“Of course not! What I meant was-“
“No, that’s quite a compliment, to be honest. You know, one of our former governesses insisted that dancing would most likely be the place where a prospective spouse could determine if you were truly of their liking. I didn’t approve of that concept, so I decided I would only dance for fun, instead.”
“You make your own rules, don’t you?”
“Sometimes”
Branson was taken aback by her smile, a knowing look on her face.
“Are you having fun then?” Branson asked.
“I am, everyone seems to be in such high spirits. Are you enjoying yourself?”
“As a matter of fact, I am. I always did love Christmas.”
“You must miss your family, terribly.”
“I do, but they are mainly scattered all over these days, anyway. And I have to say, for some reason Downton is beginning to feel more and more like a home to me.”
“Oh that is so amazing to hear you say! We’re happy to have you here.”
“You are?”
“Of course.” Lady Sybil’s smile slowly faded as she took in the serious tone of the question.
“I am happy you’re here… very much so.”
Apparently, as one of the melodies faded away and a new, more upbeat tune began, everyone started to either switch dancing partners, or continued to dance separately to the beat of the new, more modern tune. Which made the fact that Lady Sybil and Branson were still holding each other and swaying slowly a bit peculiar in the eyes of some of the others.
Mrs. Hughes in particular, wondered if His Lordship and Her Ladyship were aware of how attentively their youngest daughter and the chauffeur were looking at each other at the moment, as if they were finding new things they had missed before, as if they were afraid if either one looked away from the other, they would burst whatever bubble they thought they were in.
“Um, Branson, I think we’ve got a bit of an audience.” there was a small circle forming around them now.
“Did you wanna put on a show then?” Branson asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I was waiting for you to ask!”
As if they had plotted it all along, they both positioned themselves, and Branson then spun Lady Sybil around twice, and caught her with a slight dip.
There was some gasps and even some clapping from some of the others and somehow, that seemed to lighten up the mood of the ball again, with everyone going back to where they were before.
The party continued for some time, and eventually came to an end, with everyone toasting for a happy Christmas, and bidding farewell.
As she was about to part, Branson stopped Lady Sybil,
“Good night, Milady. And thank you, for the dance.”
“Oh it was my pleasure!… I do wish we could have Christmas more often if that meant more evenings like this.”
“That is my wish as well, Milady.”
And with that they parted ways, both of them with bigger smiles on their faces than the ones they had originally arrived with.
The End.
———————
Happy New Year Everybody! 🎊
Having heard the bad news about Matthew at Amiens, Sybil goes to tell the one member of staff who wasn't present in the house.
Syblime’s contribution to the Sybil x Tom Secret Santa 2017 exchange, made especially for @youcleverboy-run (formally rachelduncansbitch)
Hi @fortuitous-occurencess, I’m you Secret Santa!
I hope you’ll like what I did with your prompt that was : : “It’s Christmas and Tom and Sybil take a special holiday trip and have various, happy adventures; can be either show era or modern, it’s up to you.”
I had a lot of fun writing it. It’s been a long time since the lasst thing I wrote so I’m a little bit unsure.Thank you to @skinnycat77 for the beta and @yankeecountess for organizing the secret exchange. Let me know what you think. Reviews are very welcome!
PS / I’m sorry but FF.net is shit and doesn’t wait to take my text as written. Sorry if it makes the reading difficult.
MERRY CHRISTMAS to the Tom/Sybil fandom!
A HOLIDAY TRIP
London, December 24th
It was the middle of the afternoon and Tom just finished packing the car. He worriedly looked up to the sky and then frowned. He was sure the snow would start to fall soon and they needed to hit the road quickly if they wanted to leave London without too much trouble.
They have been together for three years now but it was their first Christmas Eve together alone. As Sybil was working today, they had to decline the usual invitation to Downton, on the pretext it would be better for them to drive up there on Christmas morning rather than with thousands of Londoners on the Eve. Of course, it was just a small lie as Sybil finished her work day at the hospital at eight in the morning. But she insisted they spend the Eve alone together and Tom didn’t argue, too happy to escape the long family dinner and the games with the competitive Mary.
So the plan was to drive to a small village near Downton (which name was still unknown to him), spend the Eve together in a small rented cottage then drive to the big house the next morning. Sybil was in charge so he didn’t have all the whereabouts but she assured him that the cottage was lovely and warm and less than an hour drive from Downton. The only thing he had to take care of was the food and the drive.
He liked it when she was all mysterious with him and he walked back to the apartment with the ghost of a smile on his face. “Yes, I can be mysterious too,” he said to himself at the thought of the small package safely packed in his travel bag.
(MORE)
Silver Linings A Secret Santa story for @mimijag
When Sybil has a huge fight with her boyfriend, Larry Grey, on the morning of her sister’s wedding, it seems that things couldn’t get any worse. But Sybil’s spirits are picked up by a certain Irishman, who is a staff member at the wedding.
Hi Allison! Here is your Secret Santa present! It’s a modern AU, inspired by “Eloise at Christmastime”– which is, incidentally, my favorite Christmas movie, but I chose it here because I thought it provides a story for our dear Mary/Matthew and your original Downton OTP, Sybil/Tom. Because S/T is actually how I started following you, years ago now!
This is just part 1, an introduction really; the rest will come asap (December really got away from me) but I wanted to have at least a little something ready today. I hope you enjoy it!
~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~
It was the week before Christmas. Outside, the first dusting of snow had fallen, and inside, the staff were caught up in a whirlwind of preparations. Despite the hotel manager’s meticulous oversight and planning, there was always plenty to do– even before something went wrong, as it always did, and made extra work. That mishap, any time of year, usually could be traced back to the little girl who now stood in the middle of the great hall, watching as porters put up the Christmas tree.
She was examining them carefully, leaning first one way and then the other and then back again. Finally, she decided that the tree tilted just a little to the left, and told the porter so. However, she did not linger to see whether her recommendation was carried out (although it was), instead skipping off to the front desk, where she cut ahead of the line.
“Good morning, Mr. Carson!” she sang out, accompanied by a chorus of clucking from the two elderly ladies she had interrupted. “Are there any messages for me?”
“Yes,” the hotel manager replied solemnly, “–the Royal Ballet has asked you to appear as Clara in their production of The Nutcracker.”
Alice considered a moment, and then sighed dramatically. “I’m afraid I must decline. I shall be too busy playing Tiny Tim. But perhaps next year.”
He nodded. “Indeed. I must also tell you that Mrs. Patmore has just finished a batch of gingerbread biscuits and needs your taste-testing.”
“That, I can do!” she exclaimed, beaming.
“Now, Miss Alice, I’m afraid I have work to do. But I am sure I will see you later.” He looked to the ladies apologetically.
“Alright, I’m sure you will.”
She headed away, in the direction of the kitchen, but was soon distracted by a girl at the end of the line who was holding a puppy.
“Oh, he’s adorable! What’s his name?”
“Snowball,” the girl replied.
“How darling!” Alice petted the dog, as she kept talking. “Are you staying at Downton for Christmas? I hope so! It is truly the most wonderful time of year. It’s all decorated, as you see, and there’s the big tree, and there’s so many parties, and when it snows a little more there will be sleigh rides!”
“Yes, my family is staying here,” the girl said. “And yours? Have you been here before?”
“I live here, with my parents and grandparents. My family has always lived here, even before it was turned into a hotel after the war.”
“Oh!”
“It was called Downton Abbey then. Abbey, because monks used to live here a long, long time ago. But then it was the Crawleys, just by themselves. But my mum’s grandfather changed it to the Abbey Hotel, and I’m glad he did!”
The girl nodded.
“Well, maybe I’ll see you again this week! But I have to go now.” Alice kissed the dog’s nose, and then she was off again. On her way to the kitchen, she passed by the sofas in the hall where newly-arrived guests could rest their feet. On one, she noticed, sat a man in a grey trench coat and hat. Only his eyes were visible over the top of his newspaper. That was certainly peculiar; and even more peculiar, when he noticed her looking, he immediately raised his newspaper to hide entirely.
She decided not to investigate further at this very moment– the prospect of fresh-baked biscuits was too overwhelming– but she filed it away to think about later.
Upstairs was a coordinated sort of busy, but downstairs was chaotically so. Alice loved it– especially because Mrs. Patmore, the chef, always had a moment to spare for her (and a sweet treat to try). Everyone had a soft spot for the earl’s little granddaughter– even though some, like the housekeeper Mrs. Hughes, were more reluctant to admit it.
“Mr. Carson said you made gingerbread!”
“I did.” Mrs. Patmore wiped her hands on her apron, and led Alice over to the table, where trays of gingerbread people sat cooling.
Alice delicately bit off the corner of the gingerbread lady’s skirt, and pronounced it, “Scrumptious!” She reached for another for the road, but the cook intervened.
“Your mother will have my head if I give you two biscuits before breakfast.”
“It’ll be our secret! Pinky promise.” Alice smiled angelically, and truly it was difficult to deny that sweet little face. She had inherited her father’s blue eyes, and her mother’s bright smile.
“Alright, then,” Mrs. Patmore relented, and Alice tucked the second into the pocket of her jumper.
Someone approached behind them. “How fine these look!” he said. “May I?”
Alice turned around, at the familiar voice. “Tom!” she exclaimed. “You’re in the kitchen! Are you helping as a waiter again?”
Tom Branson was one of her particular friends among the Abbey’s staff. He worked as a driver, usually, and they had met when he began driving Alice to school. He was a wonderful storyteller, with his specialty being Irish history.
He nodded. “Mr Carson has drafted me, in anticipation of a special event due to take place on Christmas Eve.”
“Ooh, what’s that?” Alice demanded. She prided herself on knowing all that went on within the Abbey, and she had not heard of anything out-of-the-ordinary on Christmas Eve this year.
Tom shook his head. “It’s still a secret, even to us. You must let me know what you hear.”
“Of course. But wait–” Alice’s brow furrowed. “Does that mean you’re not going home to Ireland?”
“I’ll go that evening, after– and arrive in time for midnight Mass, to Mam’s great relief.”
Alice nodded. “Oh, good.”
“It’s nearly nine o’clock, dear,” Mrs. Patmore informed them. “Your parents have rung for breakfast.”
“I’d better go! Thanks for the biscuits! And I’ll tell you if I find out anything but you must also tell me if you do.”
“You can bet on it.”
And Alice took off running upstairs. She and her parents lived in a suite on the second floor, right next door to her grandparents. Her great-grandmother lived down the hall. There were two other suites there, for guests, and then individual rooms on the upper floors.
Mary and Matthew were still in their dressing gowns, just sitting down to breakfast, when their daughter burst into the apartment and let the door slam behind her. She took her place at the table, where there was a bowl of porridge waiting for her.
“Hello, Al,” Matthew said. “How were the morning rounds?”
“Full of ribbons and holly and jingle bell cheer! I helped them put up the Christmas tree,” Alice reported, “and I saw Tom. He’s being a waiter for something happening on Christmas Eve. Do you know what that is?”
Mary and Matthew exchanged a glance. They did know, for Mary was her father’s second-in-command in all hotel business.
“Ugh.” Alice sighed. “Is it something only for grown-ups?”
“No, you’ll find out soon enough,” Mary promised. “But your Aunt Sybil wants to tell you herself.”
Alice’s eyes grew wide. “Auntie Sybil? She’s coming here? When?”
The family had, for all of Alice’s short life, gone to visit Sybil in America. Alice sometimes had trouble believing that her favorite aunt had grown up at Downton too.
“She’s coming back for good,” Mary said, before suddenly and deftly catching Alice’s hand just as she was about to spill a fourth spoonful of sugar into her porridge and steering the sugar back into its proper bowl. “That is far too much,” she scolded. “Must we have this conversation every morning?”
“We must,” Alice replied, now stirring in a generous serving of cream. “Porridge by itself is yucky.”
“It’s good for you, darling, and I’m afraid some things that are good for you just won’t be terribly pleasant.”
Alice turned pleading eyes to her father, but to no avail.
“Listen to Mummy,” Matthew said. “She always knows.”
And Mary knew then to change the subject. “Aunt Sybil is arriving later this morning. I have some work to do, so will you keep a lookout and meet her for me?”
“Yes!” Alice took one bite of her by now syrupy porridge, before pushing it away. “I just have to feed Dinah and Mrs. Piggle-wiggle first and then I’ll go.” These two were her cat and pet hedgehog.
She slid off the chair, and went round the table to Mary. “Love you, Mummy.” She kissed her mother’s cheek. Next she went to her father, and did the same. “Bye, Daddy.” And then she ran off once more.
“I’ve assigned Tom to drive the Allsops to York,” Mary said, once Alice was out of earshot. “He’ll be gone all day.”
Matthew nodded slowly. “That’s one day. But they must meet eventually.”
“Well, we have one more day to prepare ourselves.” She sighed, before holding out one hand. “Help me up? I ought to get dressed.”
He let out a theatrical sigh as he did so. “Phew!”
“Oh, shut up,” she replied, but fondly, resting a hand on her rounded stomach. “If I’m too heavy, you have only yourself to blame.”
“True, and I’ll gladly take responsibility for that.”
Now it was her turn to sigh. “Ugh, why does Sybil have to be getting married now? We’ve never met the man– what’s the rush? I say wait til spring, so we’ll know this Larry properly, and I’ll have my figure back.”
“Both matters of equal importance,” he teased.
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.” His expression softened, and he put his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “It’ll all sort itself out, I know it.”
“Well, I admire your confidence.” She returned the hug, and then said, “Alright, time to go. Busy day– busy week– ahead of us.”
Oh my goodness, this is beyond cute! I love Eloise, and the best part about this is there’s MORE TO COME! I’m so excited! Thank you so much, my dear!
