1. groveyswife asked: Something has been on my mind lately and I thought you might just be the right person to ask. I've been rewatching S2 of DA and when Mary sees Matthew downstairs by himself. She has to lean against the wall and take a deep breathe. Do you think maybe she knew she was going to kiss him then or what do you think her plan was? The script book didn't tell me anything. I know you must have a thought or two on it. :)

    Oh, dear, I have so many thoughts and feelings about that scene! Some time ago I wrote a short drabble trying to channel some of them, but in essence… that episode is all about reality setting in for Mary (as well as for Matthew), isn’t it?

    Consider the opening scene, we come into the great hall of Downton, the servants rushing left and right, Cora instructing them, Isobel having her say, Lavinia thanking the mistress of the house, and Mary… she’s there, right in the middle of all that, but she’s… silent, somewhat stunned, because… it’s happening.

    The war has ended, Matthew is on his way to full recovery, and he is marrying. He moving on with his life.

    War had stopped things in a way, froze them and Downton in a constant wait, but that wait is over now and real life is about to began.

    And in that real life Mary and Matthew are destined to take different roads.

    So this scene you mention… Mary just guided Lavinia to her room, a few days before the wedding takes place, days before everything changes, forever, with no coming back.

    She hears music and she looks to see who’s playing, and isn’t it so typical, so ironical that it must be Matthew?

    The man she loves, the man she can’t have, the man who loves another. The man who is lost to her, standing just a few metres away and yet so distant.

    And I think all this kind of takes its toll on Mary in that moment.

    It’s like if, for only a moment, Mary gives in to her own heartbreak.

    She leans agaist the wall, sighs, she’s tired, tired of this constant ache in her chest, tired of the façade she has to keep with the world, tired of feeling so trapped all the time.

    She is strong, she is never down for long, and she will go through life with her chin high, but in this moment, up here alone?

    She gives in to that sadness, she lets it lingers, for one beat, two beats, and then…

    And then Lady Mary is back.

    The sadness is not gone, but the lady is back, only that sadness makes her quieter, softer.

    When she gently asks Matthew about the song once she’s down, I think she’s genuinely surprised that he asks her to dance.

    So, to answer your question, I think she never in a million year thought she would kiss him, and she certainly didn’t imagined how similarly desperate Matthew had grown in these past weeks since Violet’s visit, she couldn’t know his turmoil.

    She’s so surprised when he slips, when he confesses that he would happily throw Lavinia to be with her, to marry her, and she’s so surprised when he leans down and kisses her.

    She could stop him, she should stop him, but…

    One of the things I love the most is how… longing, soft, desperate Mary’s face is in that kiss.

    Matthew is her heart’s desire, she craves him, loves him, and now she finds out that he loves her too, that he wants her too, but…

    This is a goodbye, isn’t it?

    There’s no the thrill of discovery in Mary’s heart, there’s the knowledge that it’s over, definitely, completely over, and he is marrying another, and she is marrying another, and this kiss?

    This kiss is stolen.

    You know, Lavinia happened upon them and then promply died leaving Matthew a free man (such an easy way out), but imagine how Mary must have felt moving away from Matthew that night, and later, how elated she must have been going back in her room, but also how terrible shaken, torn in two between what was honourable and what she wanted.

    Had she planned to talk to Matthew? Had she decided she must speak to him and confess everything, her love, her mistakes, her devotion?

    JF just jumped ahead and gave us some more drama, but can you imagine the sweet torture of these hours?

    And what if Lavinia had survived? What if Mary had wanted to know for sure, that what she thought he’d said was indeed true, that he truly loved her?

    What if he’d confessed of never having stopped loving her?

    What if they’d opened themselves to the other?

    What if they’d kissed again? What if they couldn’t stop?

    What if…

    Ah, such beautiful, complicated, heartrending story that would have been.

    So, well, I hope this satisfies your curiousity, and thank you so much for asking, it was so lovely to revisit that moment :)


  2. liesellisabeth:

    I’ve seen so much on here about Mary’s questionable encounter with Pamuk – and of course Anna’s encounter with Green. I’m very emotionally invested in both these scenarios as I’ve experienced something like this. (Don’t worry, I’m a tough old soul. But these scenarios do hit home.) And I wanted…

    I don’t think there’s more to be added to this, if not that this is important, and you all should read it.

    And to you liesellisabeth, who were so brave writing this down and sending it into the world, I know you’re tough now, I can believe it, but I’m sending you a big hug all the same.

  3. "Isn’t it just marvellous?” Edith exclaimed.

    “I suppose it is,” Mary conceded, but then smiled slightly as she looked around, tilting her head to one side.

    It was a lovely day, warm and without a cloud in the sky, and a gentle breeze was whispering through the leaves of the ancient trees of Downton.

    It seemed like Spring had finally arrived and the grounds were blossoming with it, the colours brighter, the scents more intense, a sparkle of life and joy and expectation filling the air.

    At the annual Downton Easter Egg Hunt in 1922 Mary wishes her husband could be there with her.

    Fluff alert, with some Tom/Sybbie cuteness thrown in for good measure ;)

    Read More

  4. “I have a surprise for you,” Mary told him quietly.


    Mary’s smile turned teasing, but she couldn’t keep the softness out of her voice when she spoke, and in all honesty, she didn’t really mind it.

    “I do,” she confirmed. “So you see, darling, in order for me to get your surprise you’ll have to let me go.”

    “I see,” Matthew said slowly, and yet his hands did not move, and his arms stayed securely around her waist and lower on her back, keeping her safely locked in his warm hold.

    “Do you, really?”

    “I do, but you see, I think I might need a little incentive to be convinced to let you go, my darling, if only for a short moment.”

    Read More

    The long awaited MaryxMatthewxcake wedding night fic. Rated M.

    Dedicated to maraudinglupin

    I do hope you enjoy :)

    (Source: patsan)

  5. (Source: eatsleeptv)

  6. allthings-beauti-full:

    Matthew and Mary . Memories . Day 4

    This episode it simply delicious. I rewatched it just yesterday (or most of it, anyway), and Mary/Edith’s antagonistic relationship is so entertaining, how nasty Mary can be, how she ends up hurting Matthew in the process, which was a consequence she hadn’t even considered. How much that hurt her, surprisingly so, that he would leave, feel rejected, how disappointed in herself she was, so much so that she tried - and failed - to make amends the following day.

    JF skimmed through a lot of stories (and progression) in between episodes, but S1 was a gem, no doubt. Not even the heights of S2 had that same subtlety, that complexity, that engaging rhythm of the storytelling.

    Oh, S1, how do I miss you?

  7. - You know what all work and no play did for Jack.

    - You think I’m a dull boy anyway, don’t you?

    (Source: patsan)


  8. groveyswife asked: Ohhh, I'm sure it's been done. But what happened in between the first kiss and Mary going upstairs to tell Cora that Matthew asked her to marry him. I mean it had to be good... They were all alone. ;)

    Well, it’s my first take on this anyway.

    Thank you for this prompt, I loved writing this. I hope you like it :)


    He lost track of time in their kiss.

    A moment before he’d been aware of the clock ticking away on the mantle, of the shadows of the night peeking from outside the window, of the light steps of some footman walking just outside the door.

    But all had ceased to exist the moment Mary’s gaze had met his unashamed, half a smile curving her lips, her eyes warm and welcoming,

    He’d been unable to resist the pull.

    Against his better judgments his eyes had dropped to her mouth, and when he’d lifted them again, he’d seen it, the invitation, the… the longing, that same longing he knew was in his eyes every time he looked at her.

    He’d seen her inch a bit closer, and he had not stopped enough to think, to wonder.

    He’d met her eagerly halfway instead, their mouths pressing against each other as the space between them seemed to vanish.

    Read More


  9. Taste

    This is probably totally historical inaccurate, but quite frankly I don’t care :P



    "And then of course there’s the food tasting. I hope you are free on Saturday morning because otherwise we’ll have to decide without you."

    "Food tasting? What do you mean?"

    "What do you think I mean? Of course the main courses for the wedding breakfast! Darling, are you sure you are alright today? You do seem a little pale still."

    Her hand sneaked to his forehead quickly, but he caught her wrist first, guiding it to his lips instead.

    He lingered there, kissing her palm and then each one of the pads of her fingers, slowly, carefully, looking at her with a glint in his eyes for the whole time.

    Mary swallowed, then pressed her lips together, as he finally let go of her hand and took a step toward her, reached for her cheek, fingers sliding over it, caressing her face.

    She closed her eyes when their lips met, sighing into his mouth.

    It was a good thing, she thought with no small amount of relief as she felt him pull her closer, his hand around her waist pressing her to him completely, that they were so very far away from the house.

    But then again, she mused, that was the exact reason she’d suggested they wandered this part of the grounds today.

    So she smiled into the kiss, pushing even more against him, hands that had lain unused at her sides till now coming up to his chest, grabbing the lapels of his day suit, as heat grew between them, and they got lost in the kiss, so wonderfully lost, and the rest of the world just… it just faded away for a while.

    They separated at last, breathing hard, half a smile curving Matthew’s lips.

    “You distracted me,” Mary accused his, but there was only softness in her voice, as she finally did reach his forehead, fingers lingering there some moments, and then moving to push back a lock of hair that had flopped over it.

    She smiled.

    It made him look young and carefree and so impossibly handsome in this sunny day of early Spring.

    "The fever passed days ago, darling, I am alright," he said as he reluctantly released her and they went back to a more proper distance.

    "Can I count on you on Saturday, then?” she asked, as Matthew linked his fingers with her, and they started walking again.

    She squeezes his fingers between hers.

    “You can always count on me.”

    “I’m glad,” she said simply.

    They walked quietly for some moment.

    “Do you know what Mrs. Patmore has in mind, then?”

    “We discussed about it the other day with Mama. She said Mrs. Patmore wants to try some new fancy dishes and wanted to be sure we appreciated them.”

    “I think no one could ever taste Mrs. Patmore’s cooking and be disappointed by it.”

    They laughed softly together.

    “Indeed, but if she wants to be sure, darling, then it’s our duty to put her doubts to rest.”

    “Oh, indubitably,” he agreed with a smirk, then paused, his brows knitting together in thought.


    “Will we decide on our wedding cake, too?”

    He looked so hopeful that Mary had to laugh again.

    “Yes, darling,” she said then shaking her head slightly and she was the one coming closer this time, her arms sneaking around his neck with ease. “Yes, I promise there’ll be cake.”

    “Good then,” he said, and they smiled happily at one another, till she inched closer still, and every thought of food tasting left their minds.

    Another kind of tasting took precedence as hands stroked over a light jacket, brushed against skin, pushed hair aside, and they kissed again, and again, and again, holding each other close in the warm air of the morning.

  10. thequeenofdrama:

    Favorite Mary Crawley Outfits • Season 2

    I can never decide, if S1 or S2 had the best costumes.

    (via groveyswife)

  11. "Darling?" he calls softly, rubbing sleep off his eyes as he peeks into the nursery. He’s woken up mere minutes ago, the other side of the bed empty, which left him confused for some moments, till he’s seen the dull light coming from the hallway through the open door.

    She’s sitting beside the crib, one arm resting over its wooden frame, the other outstretched inside of it, and when he comes closer he can see that her fingers are resting near the sleeping form of their son, one of her fingers in his hand, as he lies on his back, slumbering peacefully. 

    A small smile tugs at his lips at the sight. 

    "He was having troubles sleeping," she explains.

    "You could’ve called me," he replies touching her shoulder, his palm resting there, caressing the tense muscles underneath her thin nightgown. 

    "It’s all right, I couldn’t sleep anyway."

    He smiles knowingly down at her, even though her eyes are only for the newborn child inside the crib.

    "You need to rest."

    "I know, I’ll do it later. I just want to stay here a little while longer."

    "Alright," he says as he sits down on a nearby chair. Mary lifts her eyes and turns her head to him then.

    "You’re practically sleeping, Matthew. Go to bed, I’ll come back in a few minutes. 

    Matthew covers a yawn with his hand, then moves the chair closer, resting his crossed arms on the frame of the crib as she is doing, his cheek lying there, watching her for a moment before closing his eyes.

    "Tell me when we’re going," he mumbles, and even if he can’t see her, he knows Mary is shaking her head now, but then he feels her fingers in his hair, tugging a strand behind his ear, caressing it, then his cheek, slowly, lovingly, and he smiles.

    "Alright then," she whispers as the silence of the night falls around them, the even breathing of their son the only sound in the quiet room.

    (Source: patsan)

  12. It’s the warmth she notices first.

    Her eyelashes flutter, her brow furrows, and her breath changes, becomes more shallow, as consciousness slowly irradiates throughout her body and she comes back to the world one bit of sensation at a time.

    It’s then that she becomes aware of it.

    It’s just her at first, it’s heavy limbs and relaxed muscles and tight skin and dry lips as she learns again the confines of her body, and knows that she’s lying on her back, or resting on her side, or that she’s curled around…

    … around him.

    Because it’s not just her anymore after these first moments.

    It’s him too.

    Behind her or under her, all around her, close, so close, and closer still with every step she takes to being fully awake.

    But before that happens, it’s his warmth that she takes notice of, not even a whole formed thought that slips comfortably and comforting into the hallways of her mind as she awakens.

    Here, he’s here.   

    The band of warmth around her back…

    … here.

    The five spots resting on her hip…

    … here.

    The solid expanse of warm skin under her cheek…


    It’s the warmth of his legs tangled with hers.

    It’s his hand holding hers to his chest.

    It’s his cheek, resting lightly against her hair, close, so close, closer as she shifts, flexes, snuggles against him while sleep finally falls away from her, and she squeezes her eyes, hiding her face in the hollow of his neck.

    She breaths him in, she moves her legs, and when she lifts her face eventually he’s there to greet her, sleepy eyes looking back at her, a lock of hair catching a ray of sun or flopping over his forehead, and a beautiful, slow grin, followed by a “good morning, darling” mumbled before leaning down for a kiss, as fingers begin to go up and down her sides, her back, and lower still, hugging her to him, lazily, or firmly or both things at once.

    A shiver always runs up her spine then, ever though she’s warm, so warm.

    Even though she’s getting warmer.

    “Matthew…” she whispers, and a wide smile curves her lips, as they kiss, and kiss, and then kiss again.

    The day, at last, is about to begin.

    (Source: patsan)


  13. My heartfelt contribution to the MM Celebration Day. Matthew cannot sleep after the birth of his son. He must go visit Mary while she recuperates at the village hospital.

    The lovely ameliapemerson asked me to post this on her behalf and here I am, because this story is simply perfect :)


  14. When Mary uncovers a secret of Matthew’s, she realizes that their past is far different than what she knew, and that the man she loves is far more than she could have ever imagined. A one-shot in honour of Mary/Matthew Celebration Day.

    In case you missed this on ff.net, here I am to recommend it to you. Amazing piece for an amazing ship.


  15. (i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)

    (Source: patsan)