christmaswiththebransons reblogged
If any of you are in need of some STEAMM icons, an MxT bromance icon, or a Crawley sister banner for the holidays, here you are!
**Made by yours truly**
christmaswiththebransons reblogged
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!
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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!
christmaswiththebransons reblogged
Wishing all the Sybil x Tom, Edith x Anthony, and Mary x Matthew shippers a very happy holiday season! Whether you are celebrating Christmas, Hanukkah, or simply spending time with loved ones, may you have a wonderful time!
#have yourself a very STEAMMy Christmas#scathach124#STEAMM#sybil x tom#edith x anthony#mary x matthew#downton abbey#modern au#sybil crawley#sybil branson#edith crawley#edith strallan#mary crawley#matthew crawley#tom branson#sir anthony strallan#Christmas with the Bransons#as well as the crawleys and strallans
christmaswiththebransons reblogged
Also, Sybil x Tom and Mary x Matthew ala "White Christmas" AU ;oP
Vaudeville song and dance man Matthew Crawley abandoned the stage to fulfill his duty to his country when war broke out. While in the Army, he meets Tom Branson, an aspiring entertainer in his unit, and the two become fast friends, performing little shows for their fellow soldiers to boost morale. When Tom saves Matthew’s life after an attack one day, the two become friends for life, and take the entertainment world by storm once the war is over, rising up in the ranks from simple song and dance men to big-time producers. They still perform whenever they can, and are always looking for new talent…but one day, ten years after the war, they get a letter from an old army friend of theirs, Patrick Crawley, asking them if they wouldn’t mind making a trip to see Patrick’s cousins in a show of their own.
The Crawley Sisters–singers Mary and Sybil, accompanied by Edith on piano–have been on a successful tour, performing at nightclubs and hotels up and down the East Coast. But on the day that Branson and Crawley (as their dynamic duo has come to be known) comes to see The Crawley Sisters and their act, the girls run into a spot of trouble with the manager of the hotel, who claims they have vandalized the room and refuses to pay them what he owes for booking the act. Desperate, the sisters turn to Branson and Crawley for help, and although Matthew is reluctant at first, Tom is charmed by the girls’ talent (and by the youngest sister, Sybil) and they provide a distraction so the girls can sneak out of the hotel and onto their train that will take them to their next booking.
As luck would have it, the two men run into the sisters again on the train, and are persuaded to join them in (sadly not so snowy) Vermont. There, Matthew and Mary begin to grow closer, and Sybil and Tom hatch a plan to get them together (and to get Mary to stop nagging her sister) and inadvertently grow closer to each other in the process. Meanwhile, Edith is smitten with the owner of the hotel, Anthony Strallan, former commanding officer from Branson and Crawley’s army days! Will everyone end up with the right person? Or will misunderstandings and hi-jinks abound? Will they be able to get their new show off the ground? And when is it ever going to snow?
christmaswiththebransons reblogged
Precious Moments, Special People
Merry Christmas, @kidyouhavenoidea! Your Secret Santa is me! I’m sorry it’s a bit short, but I had a lot of fun writing your gift, and I hope you enjoy it!
**images not mine
Read under the cut or at fanfiction.net
christmaswiththebransons reblogged
Hang a Shining Star (Upon the Highest Bough)
Merry Christmas, @scathach124!! I am your Secret Santa! I’ve enjoyed getting to know you a bit this month (although I’m sorry I didn’t send you more messages) and I’m so excited that I can follow you now. I hope you enjoy your gift! Merry Christmas!!
**Images not mine
Read under the cut or here at ff.net
christmaswiththebransons reblogged
Here they finally are! Christmas icons for all!
S/T matching icons for you and your bestie:
Bransons Christmas icons:
More Downton Abbey characters and couples:
And a few OUAT characters because it’s Christmas soon and I’m feeling generous:
Well, here’s my Christmas present for you all, a little ahead of time (a month earlier, whoops!). Hope you liked them! Please reblog this post if you’re going to use one.
christmaswiththebransons reblogged
By popular request
The Family Christmas Card (with children)
christmaswiththebransons reblogged
sun-koroleva-deactivated2020022
Christmas 1924
christmaswiththebransons reblogged
New Year's Badges for STEAMM shippers
Sybil & Tom
Edith & Anthony
Mary & Matthew
PICK YOUR CRAWLEY SISTER SHIP, AND WEAR YOUR BADGE INTO THE NEW YEAR!
christmaswiththebransons reblogged
Requested by the Yankee Countess 9/10 Branson Secret Santa
xxoo Nita
January 1931
"Don’t you dare!"
"Get her, Da!"
"Go on, Uncle Tom! Throw it!"
Sybil looks at her husband, pleading him not to hurl the lump of snow at her - he’s poised, ready to attack with their two eldest children - Saoirse and Teddy - and their cousin Archie egging him on. Tom bites his lip and wiggles his eyebrows at her mischievously, laughing as his wife instinctively raises her arms to shield her body. Just as he’s about to launch his missile, he’s caught completely off guard when another snowball flies through the air and hits the side of his head.
"Tom, leave my sister alone and pick on somebody your own size," comes Mary’s haughty tone as she and Matthew emerge from the trees.
"As you wish, milady," he replies, flinging the snowball and missing his sister-in-law by an inch, only to hit Matthew square in the shoulder.
The children laugh hysterically as the grown ups start a snowball fight and it isn’t long before they’re joining in themselves once more, the three of them running around and squealing with delight.
Story: From Collection- 25 DAYS OF FIC: DAY THREE - SNOW
christmaswiththebransons reblogged
magfreak-deactivated20210127
I can hardly believe it, but it’s officially been ONE YEAR since I posted my first Sybil/Tom fic, a re-imagining of the movie The Holiday. It’s a modern AU Christmas story in which Matthew and Sybil do a home exchange and romantic entanglements ensue. I’m not sure I knew what would happen when I posted the first chapter, but this past year, getting to know everyone I’ve met through ff.net and tumblr has been a blast. Thank you all so much for making this whole fandom thing so fun.
I posted The Holiday long before I joined tumblr so I never got to do any picsets for it. Here’s a small one to go with a couple of chunks of chapter 3, in which Sybil and Tom meet.
————
He shifted his eyes to the right a bit, to the hall that welcomed arriving passengers to Dublin. He was about to check his watch again when he spotted a young woman with a dark grey wool pea coat and a blue and green striped scarf. She had brown hair with a slight curl, just past her shoulders and parted down the middle. Her eyes, even from this distance, Tom could see were the brightest blue. She was beautiful, but not the obvious kind all take notice of, the kind you have to stop and observe to really appreciate, the kind he liked best. She stepped a bit away from the moving crowd and took in her surroundings. She took a deep breath, then smiled.
Whoa.
For a second, Tom thought she had spotted whoever had been waiting for her—lucky bastard—but after a moment he realized she was just standing there smiling. In her face, he could see she felt a bit of pride in herself and eagerness and … peace? Tom, before he caught himself thinking it, very suddenly and very ardently wished to be the person she was coming to see, to be in this moment with her and share in whatever it was she was feeling. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring when he realized she was looking straight at him.
If he had been in possession of his faculties just then, he would have looked away embarrassed, but for the life of him he couldn’t take his eyes away. He saw her move her eyes to his lap—Was she sizing him up?—and then start walking toward him, his eyes opening increasingly wider in shock and a bit of panic as she approached.
She stopped directly in front of him, and put on that same smile that had completely disarmed him moments ago from yards away. Discombobulated, he moved to get to his feet so quickly he almost fell back into the chair. He wondered if he’d conjured her up out of thin air.
Here’s the perfect woman you ordered, Mr. Branson. Will there be anything else?
"I’m Sybil."
"Uh, hi… . I’m Tom." Was this happening?
There followed what felt to him like an interminable minute of awkward silence.
She narrowed her eyes, amused but also a bit wary. “Is the car nearby?”
"I’m sorry?"
"The car. I assume you’re the person Matthew sent to pick me up." She pointed to the sign that moments ago had been resting on his lap while he was waiting but now lay on the floor.
MISS SYBIL CRAWLEY
Oh.
OH!
Ugh.
Reality hit him like a dull hammer. He shook his head, trying to pull himself out of the trance watching her had put him in.
"Right. Sorry—I was in a bit of a fog just then." He smiled nervously, trying very hard not to look the fool he probably seemed to her at this moment. She smiled, clearly oblivious as to her effect on him. Dear God.
…
"So what do want to do while you’re in Dublin?"
"Well, you probably think this is awful and touristy, but there are tours that you can do, of Joyce’s Dublin." She reached for her handbag, sitting at her feet, and started rummaging through it, pulling out a small book. "I bought a self-guided one."
"Let’s have a look." He reached over to take it from her hand and promptly tossed into the back seat.
"What did you do that for?" She asked with a puzzled look.
He gave her a mischievous smile. “That book is a waste of your time.”
"Read it, have you?"
"Well, no, but if you really want to experience Joyce’s Dublin, you need to do it with a true Dubliner, preferably one who knows Joyce as well as you seem to. Luckily for you, I meet that criteria and I have the evening off." They stopped at a traffic light, and he looked over at her with his best smile, raising his eyebrows in invitation. She seemed momentarily wary and he suddenly wondered if he’d overstepped his bounds. "If you want to that is."
She held his gaze for a beat, then responded. “Well, if you’re the expert, I guess I must. But I’ll have you know you’ve just set the bar very high.” She turned back to the window dramatically, nose in the air and with a flair that made her hair sway against her shoulder. Was she flirting with him? "I’ll expect a tour that’s well rehearsed, informative and witty.”
Merry Christmas from the Bransons and the Crawleys
image by angiemagz