sunday finest

fine sunday.

It was the finest day ever, you could already sense the laughter, joy and smiles that would full this fine Sunday up. You reached out of your bed noticing your bed was empty. Tuning into the world you then heard the sound of morning music playing through the stereo downstairs and giggles erupting throughout the house. 

You smile to yourself automatically knowing whats up. 

You had a quick body shower and tied your hair into a knot before doing your everyday skincare routine. Once you were ready you through on some nike leggings and a simple white long sleeve.

Walking down the stairs and entering the kitchen your face is full of awe a the sight of your husband and 2 kids cooking.

“Goo morning.” You smiled as you walked closer to your adorable family.

They all turned around and laughed.

“Morning mum!” your two babies greeted.

Harry opened his arms for you and you gladly accepted them walking straight into his tall masculine body for a nice warm embrace. 

With a kiss on your forehead Harry whispered a little morning and you smiled into his neck. 

Since this Sunday morning was so fine you started to prepare the table outside in your little backyard. 

Helping cook you then put out the little breakfast buffet you all had made.

The table was full and you weren’t sure if all of your 4 bells could fit this much food in but it was fine. The table was filled with croissants, pancakes, donuts, eggs, bread, toast, grapes, berries, bananas, and oranges.

Everyone ate and had the most beautiful morning ever enjoying each other company and you enjoyed admiring the absolutely perfect family you and Harry had made.

He was anxious, twitchier than normal, fidgeting with the edge of his frayed pants as he sat at the table in the restaurant he was instructed to meet you at. He was still a tattered mess, but he had at least gotten cleaned up a little, and worn his sundays finest; the least torn pair of shorts and a shirt he supposed had the least scorching of anything he owned. The note he got said to make sure he cleaned up, and his crush, though he would never call it that, meant he cared enough to listen.

It was too bad he didn’t recognize that the handwriting on the letter wasn’t yours. It was too bad that you had no idea that this supposed date was supposed to be happening. It was too bad that he was so excited for this that he hadn’t stopped telling Roadhog for days about the things he would take you to do after the date. And it was too bad that after an hour, sitting alone at the table, he hadn’t gotten the hint.

His peg leg bounced up and down under the table nervously, and he looked around for the umtenth time, catching the waiter walking towards him for the 5 time in the hour. He scowled at the man as he walked over.

“Sir,” The waiter said, though if he wasn’t working he would never call this dirty man sir, “We have other customers waiting on tables, Is your date coming soon?”

“Yea, yea!” Junkrat said, hitting his fist on the table, looking at the man, eyes bulging, “They said they were comin’, they’re gonna come!”

“If you say so, Sir,” The waiter said, turning away and rolling his eyes, thinking about what a poor chump this man was to be waiting after so long.

But Junkrat held out hope, he knew you were coming.

Even if you didn’t.

Tea & Flowers | RS Writing Club

I hope it’s OK, but I’m posting my RS Writing Club fic now, a tiny bit early. I won’t be around tomorrow morning (BST evening time) to post (and I always somehow fuck up scheduling posts), so figured now was best. 

Anyway! Here it is. 

This is an AU where Fred Best didn’t die. He relocated elsewhere after the death of his lover in S3, and Edmund hasn’t seen, nor heard from him, since then.


An Unlikely Friend 

Words: 965 

Edmund was sat on a lone bench in Hyde Park, his hollow eyes gazing at a nearby duck pond, the weak sun reflecting on the silvery surface. The surrounding oak trees hung low, their branches spindly and ripe with autumn leaves, collecting below in clumps of orange and zingy yellow. 

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If I ever owned a bar I'd call it "Merlot Expectations".

And it’d be the cheapest wine bar in town. Our box wine specials would be Franzia Fridays and Sangria Sundays (only the finest Vella Vineyards). Yellow Tail Tuesdays would be a must and I’d throw in a few drink specials here and there like The Barefoot Confessa (wine and tequila) or Sutterhomefries (every glass comes with a free hashbrown). Brb gonna go start the Kickstarter.

Catch Campbell, California’s finest this Sunday at the last NorCal Cycle Swap at the West Wind Drive-In. These guys usually have some good parts for the Dyna, FXR and bagger crowd as well as soon cool apparel. Tons of other vendors too, hawking anything two-wheel related so clean out the garage, load up the dually and come on out to the swap!

“More than Kisses, Letters Mingle Souls”

Another Mr. Carson-Mrs. Hughes watercolour doodle. Its title is courtesy of John Donne and it’s inspired by “My Finest Hour” by The Sundays. In my ever hopeful Chelsie-focused brain, I picture the lyrics fitting perfectly into one of the letters that Mr. Carson sends to Mrs. Hughes while he’s in London for the Season.

“And I’ll keep hoping you are the same as me

And I’ll send you letters and come to your house for tea

We are who we are, what do the others know?

But poetry is not for me so show me to way to go…home”

(I mentally replace “house” with “sitting room” and “go home” with “come home”…)

It happens sometimes that team and driver have different views about certain events. Like has been after quali with us and Kimi. Then you have to sit down and clear it up. We have done that. Kimi has shown with his great comeback what a phenomenal driver he is. I could not imagine a finer driver pairing [with Kimi and Sebastian].
—  Maurizio Arrivabene (x)

when i was living in LA i volunteered for this youth mentorship program. we taught screenwriting to elementary school kids that had attention or behavioral issues. i show up on the first day and there’s this one kid going NUTS and running in circles, like SO HYPER and my first thought is “oh i hope that one isn’t mine” but of course he is. he’s my mentee. i so partner up with this wild child and am delighted to discover he’s got this crazy good imagination, and he’s writing a script about dragons and castles and he is just going for it. so great. i start to really enjoy this little dude! and then at the end of the semester we put on a big show where hollywood actors show up and act out these kids’ stories for the whole school and i was so stoked because i knew my mentee had written the best script, hands-down. jeremy piven shows up, one of the miss alaskas, one of the hot disney channel babes—like it was a big fckin deal to these kids. 

before the show goes on each writer kid comes out in their sunday finest and gets handed a mic to introduce their script. my kid asks me to go up there with him bc he’s nervous and i’m like “heck yeah” and we fist bump and walk out there together. so i’m up there on this elementary school stage in front of hundreds of small children and their parents with my hand on this sweet little dude’s shoulder, all proud mama hen, and then

this kid

gets handed the mic

and into it, he hisses

“i hope you all die”