Goodmorning, my loves! Time for a short-ish update on Umpire - please let me know what you think!

excerpt:  She takes a deep breath, taking in that new-baby smell. She is already getting used to the warm weight, she can feel the baby turn a little towards her, her new brassiere less restrictive than her corsets have always been. She brings her lips to the baby’s forehead - it’s cool, dry.

This is the final chapter in the ‘Choose your own adventure' story that you all helped me write. You are amazing, wonderful, kind people and I've been so happy to write this fic! Thank you, all of you. Community spirit, yo - it's fabulous.

excerpt: The sound of Elsie’s song comes closer and there she is, standing next to him, wiping her hands on her apron. She is looking as beautiful as the day he’d first set eyes on her. As strong as she was when she handed out order after order, as exacting as she was when she checked up on every one of those orders. There’s something softer about her now.

deeedeeedeeedeee:

Thanks, everyone, for reading and reviewing! You all are fabulous.
Thanks, kouw, as always, for everything! conversation, shouting, beta-magic, all of it!

Excerpt: nope. it’s loving smut, friends. enjoy!

There’s a really obvious f-word name (not fucking) that would work for this chapter, but I refuse! to use it as the title, so “floating” it is. sure. floating. :D

Honeymoon time!

You know this chapter is going to be smutty! In fact, my beta - the always lovely deeedeeedeeedeee - says I’d better warn you that this is rather racy and your pants may explode.

excerpt: “You should send your sister a postcard,” he suggests and Elsie laughs.

“You don’t think that would be a bit petty?’ She asks.

“If we’d gone to York or to Dundee or Paris or Timbuktu, wouldn’t you have sent her a postcard?”

 

Thank you everybody so much for voting and your encouragement, you are lovely.

Today we’ll be having three different timejumps, three life-changing moments and thus three options to choose from! If you think: hey, these look a bit definitive - well, you’re right, this is the second to last chapter! To ease the pain, these final three options are all HUGE - they are all as big as a regular chapter of my multi-chapter-fic chapters!

Thank you, Dee, for assuring me that schmalze Muck is basically the best. Much hearting, yo.

As always, my darlings: DON’T FORGET TO VOTE!

excerpt: Time goes by and Charles had been confronted with having to explain to Lady Mary that Bonnie would not be joining her and her sisters in the nursery. She hadn’t quite understood, but she accepted it with a brilliant smile and the announcement that she didn’t mind too much because she and Edith were getting a governess and she wouldn’t have had time to play with Bonnie anyway. Charles had nodded seriously.

As I promised yesterday: Chapter 38 of One Year! Two options, so get your vote in now! Remember I cannot write this story without you :D

excerpt: The nurse is settling Lady Sybil for her afternoon nap and Lady Mary is sitting by her small table, a child’s tea-set laid out. She sits up so straight, he sees the Dowager Countess in her: all strong will and duty. Six years old she is and if there are to be no more siblings for her — in particular a brother, a big responsibility will be placed on her shoulders.

Our beloved OTP wakes up the morning after the night before

excerpt: “Are you alright?” she asks, scrambling up and putting her hand over his. Something clicks in her shoulder, and she rubs her neck with her free hand to chase away a stiffness that has settled there.

“I could ask you the same,” he responds with a warm smile and Elsie blushes.

Spoiled for choice

Publish the next chapter of ‘Umpire’ or publish the next installment of ‘One Year’?

Happy birthday, owlsiehoot !
I hope you are having a lovely, wonderful, sunshiny day, filled with cake and laughter and little, fun gifts and many well-wishes!

Modern coffeeshop-ish AU in which Mr Carson doesn’t approve of anything

excerpt: They stand in line and he lets his eyes run over the options on the menu hanging over the counter. The noise of people and machinery is making him irritable.

“A tall, nonfat, soy, green tea latte, for Gudrun please.”

“A grande, quad, nonfat, one pump, no whip, mocha. My name’s Tarquin.”

He cannot imagine for the life of him what the hell people will receive when they place an order like this. He remembers vividly a latte was outlandish. Poncy, even.

Gird your loins, it’s M-rated smut time!
Don’t forget to let me know what you think and don’t forget this is not safe for work/church/public transport/and such!

excerpt: His bare skin - warm and soft and slightly damp from the hot night - is under the palm of her hand and she presses her fingers down, gripping his flesh. He is a man of substance: a strong, broad man.

Thank you, deeedeeedeeedeee for your fantabulous beta!