1. Why did you choose your tumblr url? The first part of my url, coffeebean, comes from the fact that going to a coffee shop and getting a cup of coffee is one of my favorite leisure activities. The 87 is a reference to 1987, my year of birth.
2. What is your middle name? Meredith.
3. If you could own a fairytale/ fictional pet, what would it be? Probably a winged lemur, like Momo in Avatar: The Last Airbender. Momo is such an energetic character, and I love how loyal he is to Aang.
4. Favorite color? Blue
5. Favorite song? It's a tough one, but I think I am going to go with "Beautiful Day" by U2.
6. What are your top three fandoms? Downton Abbey (especially Sybil/Tom), Marvel (especially Buckynat), and Star Wars.
7. Why do you enjoy tumblr? I first became interested in Tumblr while looking at various Downton-related tags, and I thought, "Why not join in the discussions, and give yourself an opportunity to be creative?" So I joined, and it's been a great experience. I also love the fact that I get to meet people with whom I share common interests. I could not be happier that I joined!
8. Tag all 9 of your tumblr crushes (they have to do all eight questions too).
Christmas Headcanon prompt- LJ Stepping stones universe. I've always wondered about the conversation in the car when Tom took Sybil to Tom Bellasis' party -- maybe Cora and Violet was there "prompting" S to look her best? .. then going back FROM the party when Sybil "turned down" any other chances Bellasis might have.. how coul dshe "subtly" hint that with Branson (to ease off the angst) -- Happy Holidays Sharon :)
Day 9 to my "12 Days of Holiday Headcanons" drabble fest :oP
Wow! This is a lovely “blast from the past”! Ok, this missing moment comes from Love’s Journey: Stepping Stones (specifically chapters 6 & 7)—it’s the summer of 1915 and Sybil has met Tom Bellasis who she has quickly developed a fond friendship with…and naturally Tom Branson is worried he’s lost her to her this “other Tom”.
In those chapters (which are both journal entries) Tom and Sybil recall the night he drove her to a ball. This drabble explores what they might have been thinking/feeling on the car journey…
He wasn’t a smoker, but he was starting to wish he had one of Thomas’ spare cigarettes. Perhaps coughing would help take his mind off…what was most likely going on, right at this exact moment. But he doubted it.
He glanced to the side, listening to the other chauffeurs laugh and pass a flask around, a few of them “imitating” their employers by pretending to bow or curtsey before making exaggerated dancing gestures, but he didn’t join them in their merriment. He kept to himself and sighed, leaning against the car and resisting the urge to look at his watch to see what time it was (it was probably no different than when he had last checked it five minutes ago).
Was she dancing with him right now? Probably. She was probably glowing and smiling and laughing and just…looking so beautiful. How could she not? And with a man much more worthy of her than himself right now. He groaned and closed his eyes, remembering how radiant she had looked when she emerged from the house with her mother, sister, and grandmother. She always looked lovely in blue…
Her mother and grandmother fussed over her while he drove them; he wondered how poor Lady Edith felt in all this? They were giving Sybil “tips” in how to catch Mr. Bellasis’ eye and attention. Tom thought at several moments he might need to pull over because he was going to be sick. But he managed to keep his stomach down, and get them to the party safely. And now began the waiting…
What if she comes out of there with a ring on her finger? What if she emerges, newly engaged? It could happen; the man would be daft not to propose! And the War makes everyone rush to do things, because it shows us how precious and short life is…
Oh God, if that did happen, if she did emerge a newly engaged woman…he’d have to leave that night; hand in his notice and go at once, his heart couldn’t bear it. The thought itself was driving him mad!
The doors to the house opened and Tom stiffened at the sight of the Dowager Countess, leading the Crawley women out. He played his part, “ever the obedient chauffeur”, and opened the door and waited to help her inside, but he was trying to look beyond Old Lady Grantham, to the rest of her group to see Sybil—was she there? Was she with them? Or was she lingering behind to grant the other Tom a goodnight kiss? Lucky bastard.
No…she was there. And she was moving quickly, hurrying from the back to the front, practically running over her grandmother to get into the car. “Really, Sybil, what’s the rush?” the Crawley family matriarch grumbled.
"I’m just tired," Sybil muttered.
"Are you feeling alright, dear?" Lady Grantham asked, coming up behind Sybil and getting into the car. "You know you didn’t have to leave, we could have sent Branson back to fetch you—"
"Please, Mama," Sybil groaned, and then tried to quickly soften her voice. "I’m fine, truly, I…like Granny, I’m just tired, that’s all."
Lady Grantham gave a sad sigh. “Well…I do hope you gave your apologies to Mr. Bellasis; I do think you were the sole reason—”
"Oh Mama, don’t be ridiculous," Sybil tried to laugh, though Tom could tell it was strained. "You saw yourself that he danced with a great many women this evening."
"Yes, but—"
"Tom Bellasis and I are friends, nothing more,” Sybil said perhaps a bit too loudly, but she said it quite clearly for anyone around her to hear…including himself.
Tom bit the inside of his cheek. Was he glad to hear this? YES! But at the same time, he felt like a right bastard, because he was happy she didn’t have another romantic prospect, when she deserved someone to love her and promise to devote every waking minute to her happiness. I would do that; I would do that in a heartbeat. But he was the family chauffeur, and she was too far above him…
At least that was what the “practical” part of his brain kept telling him, even if it went against everything his heart was screaming.
He first stopped at the Dower House, and then proceeded back to Downton, and still playing his part, upon parking the car, held the door open and offered his hand to anyone who needed it. Mr. Carson was there at the door, ready to greet the returning ladies, Lady Grantham the first to emerge, quickly explaining to the butler that they had had a lovely night, but were all a bit tired, hence the “early” return.
Lady Edith turned to Sybil then before stepping out of the car. “Why were you so eager to leave?”
He glanced at Sybil and she immediately began to sputter, looking down, looking every which way she could that wasn’t at him. “I…I wasn’t! I just…”
"What?" Lady Edith persisted. "I thought you liked Mr. Bellasis?"
Sybil groaned. “Edith…”
"I don’t mean in the same way that Mama and Granny keep going on, but when he tried to kiss your hand this evening, you wouldn’t let him—you can’t deny that, I did see that—"
"Edith, are you going to get out of the car or not?" Sybil snapped.
Lady Edith rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath, before climbing out of the car and whispering in Tom’s ear as she passed, “careful Branson, she has her claws out tonight; she might scratch you by accident.”
Both Tom and Sybil blushed deeply at this, and quickly turned their eyes away from each other. And not too surprisingly, Sybil did try to climb out without his help…but her skirt was long and she was attempting to step down without stepping on it…so whether she meant to or not, she did reach out to him, and he was there to take her hand and help her down.
…And maybe it was just “instinct”, but his hand did squeeze hers. It just felt like the natural thing to do.
Her breath caught briefly, as did Tom’s. He could see that she was debating about whether to look at him or say something. Indeed, he was debating the same thing. I’m so sorry for how I yelled at you the other day; please forgive me. I hate fighting with you like this, I miss you; I miss our friendship.
But he didn’t. Nor did she say anything.
But…maybe it was just his imagination, but…he swore, he felt her fingers squeeze his back.
Things were far from perfect, he knew that, and no doubt she did as well. But somehow, in that simple gesture of their hands touching and squeezing, Tom knew that eventually…things would work out for the both of them.
He didn’t realize it yet…and neither did she…that things would work out for the both of them, and in ways far better than they had ever thought possible.
Special thanks to outlandrsassenach, aishewfelt, nitapostsblog, mimijag and muddlethrough for your kind messages about my cat. You are the best. We had a few good days after I made the post. She was eating, drinking and yelling at us again. Then it became obvious that she was in pain...and that was all I needed to see. We had an appointment for the next day, one that we didn't need to keep in the end. I'm not quite sure why this has been so hard. We have lost several of our animal friends this year: my ex lost his police dog partner; the 2 horses down the street; the llamas, chickens and the black cow at the farm we regularly drive by - hopefully to better, happy pastures. It seems so silly to be sad about a little cat after what happened this week in Sydney and Peshawar. It does help to put things in proper perspective.
“So, you want me to help you cleanse your attic of old Christmas decorations?" Tom asked.
"Yes. If you can. And if you want to," Sybil said.
"I'd like to help you with that Sybil, really. It's not too big of a deal. But are your parents okay with it?"
"Tom, as long as they think that you are hear to help fix the plumbing or the car or something, they are fine. As far as they're concerned, you'll just be here sorting through crappy ornaments."
"'As far as they're concerned,' huh? What are you planning to do up in that attic?" Tom inquired.
Sybil blushed. "No, not that we're – I mean, you will come to help – I didn't actually mean – !"
Tom's laughter cascaded through the receiver. "I'm teasing you Sybil. Yes, I'll help. What time?”
---
..Tom said, laughing again. "Anything else I should know?"
"One more thing. Among all the things we are going to be digging through, there is one thing that we must absolutely be careful of.”
“A pause. "What is that?"
"It's a demon Santa."
Something sounded like a pig snorting on the other side. "Pardon?”
From: Christmas with the Bransons
Author: scathach124
Story: Advent of Snow and Love: A Downton Abbey Christmas Anthology
nitapostsblog replied to your post “Quick guys! I need help! So I’m buying a bedding set and I can’t...”
second one! more relaxing
shana-rosee replied to your post “Quick guys! I need help! So I’m buying a bedding set and I can’t...”
Uuugggh they are both so cute! While I like the design better for the first one but I also have the coldest room in my house so I vote the second one b/c I understand the need for an extra blanket.
I caved in and got the first one. My sister said that the first one was more me. (But I might get them both eventually. SHHHHHH)
everthingdownton replied to your post “Quick guys! I need help! So I’m buying a bedding set and I can’t...”
Definitely the first one. It's much more sophisticated. the second one is nice, but the first is better. What website is this?
kinglinen.com
I checked their reviews on other websites and even though they've gotten some bad reviews, it's not a massive amount. I'm gambling a little bit, but the bedding set can't be much worse than the one I have now. (I had to basically hand stitch the seams of my comforter back together)
I really loved the modern S/T you wrote :) Hope you can continue? here's a prompt: mittens
The first part of this drabble series can be found here.
30 Day Drabble Challenge Day 28
This is stupid.
Sybil took another step.
He’s probably not even home.
Another, her foot almost slipping in the icy snow.
What if he’s back at church? How often does a Catholic go to church around Christmas, anyway?
She was in sight of the house now.
He doesn’t want to see me. I don’t care if he mentioned something about a drink. He was probably just being polite.
She was halfway up the walk now.
You’re going to be late if you’re not careful, and then you’ll never hear the end of it. He’s probably not home. Probably went to see his family or something. You know, family? Like the one that’s waiting for you to show up any minute?
She was right in front of the door, which was adorned with a snow-covered wreath. Why did she find that so adorable?
He probably doesn’t even remember your name.
Sybil took a deep breath. And knocked.
It only took a few seconds for him to come to the door, but in those few seconds she was already planning her escape—throwing her gift on the porch, making a run for it, getting in her car and on the road to Downton before he could even—
The door opened and Tom Branson stood there, looking even more good-looking than he had yesterday—not that she’d been looking, damn it, Sybil—in a knitted red jumper. He lit up like a Christmas tree the moment he saw her. “Sybil!”
She gave a sheepish smile. “Hi.”
"Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas to you too, Tom."
"I would have thought you’d been on the road by now. Where do your folks live, anyway?"
"Oh, just up north. Not that bad of a drive. I’m on my way there now, actually. I just wanted to…to give you this first." Feeling suddenly flustered, she thrust a tupperware container and a bottle of wine into his hand. "To say thank you for helping me out yesterday."
He looked touched. “Oh, Sybil, you didn’t have to do this…”
"Really, it was no trouble. It’s gingerbread," she explained when she saw Tom trying to peer under the lid of the plastic container. "I had it made already. I was going to bring it up for my family, but I’m already bringing them a pumpkin pie—my mother’s American—"
"You are full of surprises, Sybil Crawley."
She blushed. When did she turn into someone who blushed.
"Really, I wish I could do more, but it’s all I could manage on such short notice."
"Now I feel terrible, though. I don’t have a gift for you."
"Oh, really, you don’t have to worry about it. I just wanted to give you a little something to…show my gratitude. You really saved my life yesterday. So thank you for that."
"Anytime."
They stood there a moment in silence, Sybil fiddling with her mittens. “So…any plans for the holiday?” she asked awkwardly.
"Yeah, my brother’s coming. He lives in Liverpool, he’s bringing his whole family up. Should be a good time."
"I should get going, then. I don’t want to keep you…"
"He won’t be here for a few hours. Would you like to come in for some tea? Maybe some hot chocolate?"
The offer was tempting—it was freezing outside and Sybil really had no desire to hurry her arrival to Downton. But the tongue-lashing she would get if she was late was enough to stop her. “I’d love to, but I really should probably get on the road. Traffic and all…don’t want to be too late.”
"I understand." But he looked upset.
"Take another rain check?"
"For you, Sybil? Absolutely."
Another silence, Sybil shifted her weight from foot to foot, looking down at the fresh blanket of snow.
Tom cleared his throat. “I shouldn’t keep you, then. Thank you for my present.”
She smiled. “Thank you for your shovel.”
"I hope you have a happy Christmas with your family."
"You too."
"Drive safely, okay?"
"I will. Goodbye, Tom." She turned away almost before he had the chance to respond, hunching over against the cold and hurrying back to her car. Tom wondered if he was destined to always see this woman walking away from him.
"Full of surprises indeed, Sybil Crawley."
Just as he was about to close the door, he spotted a flash of blue and glanced down. Nestled in the snow was one of Sybil’s mittens, waiting just where she’d dropped it as she hurried away. He looked up, hoping to call out to her, but she and her car were long gone. Tom sighed and smiled, crouching down to retrieve the lost mitten. “I guess I’ll be seeing you again after all, Sybil…after all, I’ve got to return this to you somehow.”
