#Top UK Family Travel

[akoritetravels]

Travel Agency in Nigeria

Amazing Global Partners for our Travel Agency in Nigeria

A stimulation of the senses. A way to take a fresh look at the world. Whether you’re traveling to a new location or returning to a familiar spot for the nth time, we think every trip should be extraordinary and inspire you to start planning your next journey. The Leading Hotels of the World selects unique independent hotels with care so that they might be discovered by intrepid travelers looking for the astonishingly unusual. Traveling with Leading opens the door to a world of unexpected discoveries and genuine encounters made to order to satisfy the most discriminating traveler.

[soovyclub]

10 Best Beach Staycation Destinations in the UK Making plans for a summer trip to the British coast? If you're looking for the best beaches, coastal towns, and things to do in England and Wales, here are some of the best destinations in the UK for a staycation. https://www.soovy.club/blog/best-beach-staycation-destinations-uk-england-wales

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[travelernight]

Unlock Wonder: 20 Most Magical Experiences in the United Kingdom

[bruhstation]

steam team's seniors during their baby years

A friend group so weird and toxic to people they dislike it could rival It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia’s. They're not immune to the "I came to Sodor to avoid my problems and wanted a fresh start" trope many Sudrians also follow

Edward Pettigrew

Age: 31 as of 1984

A kind, friendly NWR railwayman who didn’t mind a lot of things and was popular amongst younger folks for his looks and demeanor. He likes showing newbies the ropes of the NWR and Sodor as a whole because he just loves infodumping. Despite being made fun of by some railwaymen for his “weirdness”, Edward worked hard and was known as the jack-of-all-trades by his peers, usually treating younger and newer railwaymen to drinks after work to get them accustomed to Sodor (he did this to Henry, then Gordon, then James). Originally from the village of Pezë in Tirana, Albania, 1940s. Due to his beginnings in a small rural village and the Albanian government’s censorship of outside influences and heavy restriction of traveling outside the country, Edward’s hunger for knowledge about the world grew more and more. His family had connections to the Lëvizja Nacional-Çlirimtare and Edward’s particularly bright and good at talking, so he became a diplomat to travel outside Albania – a step into his plans of learning more about the world. After landing himself in the United Kingdom and studying everything he wanted, he believes it’s still not enough. He found out about an island infamous for its supernatural occurrences and cases of people missing just off the coast of the UK – Sodor. Being the curious man he is, he discarded everything that’s needed for the LNÇ to locate him and landed on Sodor, gorging himself with every mystery the island has to offer. Impulsive? Yes. But for the first time, Edward felt true freedom. However, Edward got too curious and nosy and became a casualty in an accident fueled by supernatural hysteria related to Lady of the Legend and was transported around 40 years into the future, landing in 1983 with his memories all over the place. Despite losing his sense of self and having no idea what he is, his thirst for knowledge still lives on inside his head. His cheerfulness, amicability, and kindness are extensions he formed to make up for the hole inside his heart. Edward does love his friends, but he believes that if he can withhold information from them and make them all live in blissful ignorance, they can be truly happy – this all stems from his fear of exceeding his limits and being discarded (which he later copes by being a typical wise friendly old man in 1999). He often sees visages of Lady in his dreams.

Gordon J. Gresley

Age: 26 as of 1984

Joined after Henry. Looked like he was fresh out of a funeral. A young hotshot who was more polite, quiet, and reserved compared to his 1999 counterpart. Gordon started out as an apprentice fireman for the Wild Nor’Wester’s previous driver. He treated his arrival on Sodor as a desperate last resort to escape his issues and grief and pitifully believed he was “lumped with the social pariahs in the boonies”, but he’s gotten better and believed that this is where he can truly outshine everyone, much to the annoyance and chagrin of his seniors. Gordon acts like he knows what he’s doing in order to build up his image as someone who’s dependable and strong and revels in small basks of limelight. However, he was constantly uncomfortable with how Edward treated accidents as normal due to their survivors being in tip-top shape the next day and how Henry is so distrustful of and odd about everything and everyone and sweats 24/7, but he’s been masking and convincing himself that he’s not like the rest of them. He’s normal. He’s normal! Let’s all hold hands. Don’t be fooled by his sad face. Young Gordon can be arrogant and think he knows everything for being a youngin.

Henry Stanier

Age: 27 as of 1984

Joined after Edward, so he’s quite close to him. Gordon’s “senior” by 6 months. He’s always, ALWAYS scared endlessly about anything “out of the ordinary” and beats himself up over it, much to his own disgust. Henry had a deep rooted hatred and jealousy towards his peers for pitying him after a coworker revealed to other railwaymen that he’s narcoleptic without his permission. He’s been masking his disabilities despite it being detrimental for his well-being, but as long as people treated him “normally”, Henry would endure (dreadfully). He did this especially with Gordon, the newest addition to the Northwestern Railway at the time, because he didn’t want anyone else to treat him differently when they find out about his health issues. As an extention, Henry developed a vitriol towards Gordon too – he’s particularly jealous about how he’s so “ungrateful” of everything’s given to him like his fair looks, clothes, and position as the to-be face of the Wild Nor’Wester. They did become friends though despite the process not being easy. It’s okay. They became besties that were mean to old nosy folks. Initially wanted to pursue arts, but due to circumstances from his past related to his health and paranoia fueled by his past failures and “jinxes”, he came to Sodor as a half-hearted last resort to get a job. He wasn’t hopeful of having anyone respect him for who he is, but things do get better, much to his surprise.

James A. Hughes

Age: 25 as of 1989

Joined the NWR 5 years after Edward did. At that point, Gordon already discarded his GNR Green look and went for the blue attire (minus the big coat). Flaunts his beauty almost at any given time, especially when someone mildly complimented him. He’s more of a nerd (word used loosely because he acts like a know-it-all when he actually has no idea what he’s doing) compared to his canon, 1999 counterpart. James came to Sodor for a fresh start and believed he deserves more than what he’s given. He thinks he’s so tough and hard as nails – in fact it became his source of hubris because he gets into accidents and was scolded by his seniors for being so vain and stubborn. He doesn’t want to get dirty, he doesn’t want to shovel coal, he doesn’t want to get wet from the washdown suds – he only wants the good out of the work and doesn’t want to accept the “bad” sides as well, so James was branded as the “problem kid” of the NWR by older folks. James, who can’t handle harsh criticism and labels well, grow even more distant with them. He primarily hangs out with the RWS trio because they seem to understand his situation and the feeling of being “outcasted” (despite Gordon’s annoyance at his boastfulness). 

[willowsnook]

Cocky (LS) 18+

lance stroll x driver!reader

word count: 4k

look i'm as iffy on lance as the next person but i had a vision. this is a longer one so buckle up

Lance's POV

"Good shot man," Lando told Lance after he hit on to the green. The two had been golfing all day, blowing off steam before racing took back over their lives in the coming weeks. They picked up their bags and started down towards where they hit.

"So what's y/n's deal?" Lance asked Lando causally, trying to be nonchalant. Lando tossed him a look of surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"Is she single or...?"

Lando smirked. Y/n was one of his best friends on the grid. The American woman had raced with him since they were 12 and now drove for Haas. She was a ruthless competitor and even scared Lando a bit sometimes. Lando had always admired how she didn't pay the media any mind with her easy "i don't give any fucks" attitude. She had already been called the next Kimi Räikkönen. Off the track, she gave off cool girl energy vs. the sweet kind. Everyone on the grid wanted to be friends with her even if he didn't have a really good reason as to why.

"Yeah, she's single," he said. "Why? Trying to hit?"

"Dude, I know she's your friend but we both know she's hot as fuck," Lance said looking over. Lando shrugged.

"Of course I know that, but I didn't really think she was your type."

"How so?"

"Every girl I have ever seen you with looks at you like you created life itself," Lando said. "Y/n will not play the submissive little role you want."

"I like a challenge," Lance said cockily and Lando laughed.

Y/n's POV

Lando had called you immediately after he got done golfing to inform you that somehow you were now in Lance's sights. You didn't really pay any attention to that. You did not like Lance. It wasn't really fair, as you actually didn't know him that well but he represented a lot of what you were not. You'd grown up with a single dad after your mom had passed away when you were a child. Your dad started working 12 hours a day once he realized that this racing hobby wasn't going to go away.

Not being able to afford moving overseas, you had lived with a host family in the UK so that you were able to travel to more karting races in a budget friendly way. You had fought tooth and nail to get your F1 seat and you couldn't really say the same about Lance. He was attractive though, you could admit that. He had some kind of cocky, brooding vibe going that you were definitely into. And him being one of the few drivers that were 6 foot was a plus.

After that golfing day you had noticed his presence way more than usual. You'd seen him around Monaco at the club, hanging out with Lando more, and at PR events. He had been noticeably closer to you, always almost hovering. The amusing thing though was that you still hadn't really talked to him. It was like the two of you were doing a silent dance.

Tonight you were way out of your comfort zone, and actually happy to find a familiar face in Lance. You'd been invited to a charity gala that Haas was involved with. Your teammate, Ollie, couldn't make it so you were unfortunately on your own. Lance was there of course, as his father was a top donor, and you spied him sipping a drink by the bar, dressed in a nice fitted suit. His eyes drank you in as he watched you make your way towards him.

"Y/n," he drawled. "What a pleasant surprise."

"I would say the same, but it's a party for the rich to remind everyone how rich they are so it wouldn't be real if you weren't here," you shot back and he smirked.

"Can I get you a drink?" You nodded and watched him carelessly lift his finger up to the bartender, gaining his attention immediately to order you a glass of wine. There was something so attractive to you about how he fit so perfectly in a moment like this.

"Enjoying the night?" He asked and you shrugged. This was not your kind of thing. Old rich men, blatantly hitting on you in front of their wives was also not your thing.

"Well only one comment from someone about how "they don't know what they'd do if they had a daughter that looked like me," so I would say it's going alright," you joked but watched Lance's eyes darken.

"Who?" He said and you sipped your wine, watching him curiously.

"It doesn't matter," you said and he leaned in closer to you.

"Tell me who."

Sighing, you turned your head scanning the room. You found the guy who had said it with his hand on a waitress's arm, clearly continuing a conversation she did not want. You wordlessly pointed him out and Lance leaned back motioning over a guy who was sporting an ear piece. He whispered something to the guy before turning back to you.

"What are you doing?"

"Don't worry about it sweetheart," he said smirking and you rolled your eyes at the term of endearment. You turned to people watch for a bit, enjoying getting to watch people make fools of themselves. A commotion caught your attention and you watched as the gross guy from earlier was arguing with what looked like to be security as they were escorting him out. You looked back at Lance who didn't say anything, just kept casually watching the scene.

Turning back, your back was hovering dangerously close to the Lance's chest and as someone brushed past you to get to the bar, you felt his arm come around you waist, pulling you into him. He didn't say anything and neither did you, so you kept on enjoying observing the party.

After a bit, people were taking to the dance floor to dance and you turned, pulling Lance's drink from his hand and setting it down. He looked at you curiously as you slid your hand into is dragging him to the floor. Settling one hand around his neck you pressed into him, breathing in his expensive cologne.

"What game are you playing at?" He whispered into your ear causing you to smirk.

"No game," you said, looking up at him. "Just bored."

Rolling his eyes, he moved his hand lower, pinching your ass which caused you to gasp. Amusement danced in his eyes as you gave him a look.

As the night came to a close, you followed him outside to the valet to get your car.

"Come home with me?" He asked and you brought your lips up to kiss his cheek.

"I'm not that easy sweetheart," you replied before turning to thank the guy for bringing your car around. Giving Lance one final look, you winked before dipping down into your seat.

One week later

The Friday before race week you found yourself enjoying the weird remixes Lando comes up with as they blasted through his apartment. It was supposed to be a casual thing but as more and more people poured through the door you regretted not wearing something nicer.

You were sitting on top of the kitchen island, chatting with Ollie and actively ignoring Lance who had been burning a hole in the side of your head for the last half hour.

"I'm kind of scared he's going to kill me," Ollie said nervously and you tilted your head in question. "Lance. You know the guy who looks like he's trying to figure out how much it would cost an assassin to kill me?"

You laughed loudly, sparing a look over at Lance who had his arms crossed and was frowning.

"Are you two seeing each other or something?" He said panicking. "Oh my god am I the other woman?"

"No we aren't seeing each other and I would protect you with my life," you said making the boy relax. That didn't last long as he bolted away the second he saw Lance making his way towards you. Resting hands on either side of you, you rolled your eyes.

"You scared him away," you pouted.

"I wanted to talk to you," he said simply.

"You could have just came over here like a normal person."

"I'm tired of playing cat and mouse," he said. "Let me fuck you."

Your eyes widened at his crude words as he left you genuinely speechless. You let him pull you off the counter and lead you out of Lando's apartment.

"You live here right?" He asked and you nodded, moving towards the elevator with him close behind. The ride was silent as you avoided meeting his eye in the reflection. Your eyes settled instead on the way his tshirt was tight around his chest and the gray sweatpants that just really do the thing ya know? You bit your lip, feeling yourself growing warm at what was about to go down.

Walking into your apartment you watched as Lance took it in. You'd lived here for the last two years and had tried to make it as cozy as possible with pictures of back home littered along the walls. Your favorite part though, was the wall behind your couch. It was floor to ceiling bookshelves filled with your very large collection of books.

Lance smiled at the books before looking back at you. You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you. His hands found your waist as he dipped his head to meet your lips in a bruising kiss. You tugged at his hair causing him to groan into you which made you smirk. His hand slapped your ass hard in retaliation and he took advantage of your open gasp to shove his tongue in your mouth.

"Bedroom," you said panting as you came up for air and he leaned down to pick you up. You met his lips again as he carried you to your bedroom, laying you gently on the bed. Resting on your elbows, you watched as he pulled off his shirt. His time playing tennis on the side really had paid off. Next went his sweats so that all he was left in were his boxers.

"Your turn sweetheart," he said and you moved up to your knees. You pulled off the top you were wearing, revealing that you weren't wearing a bra. Lance was in a trance watching you, which made you smirk.

"Can you help me?" You asked innocently and he nodded quickly moving towards you. You laid back on the bed as he pulled your sweats off, taking in the lace thong that was in underneath.

"Wear this for me?" He teased and you leaned up.

"Maybe," you replied biting your lip. That sent him over the edge and he literally ripped them off of you.

"Lance what the fuck," you complained. "I liked those."

"I'll buy you the whole fucking store as long as you only wear them for me," he said and you felt your core throb at his words.

"You'd bett-" His tongue on your clit stopped you mid thought as you moaned out. He took his time, lazily dragging it up and down. You pushed your hips against his face in desperation and his arms came around you holding your hips in place.

"Patience," he tsked and you whined in protest. Taking pity on you, he entered a finger, curling it up against your g-spot causing your mind to go numb. Keeping the one finger in, he massaged your g-spot as his tongue assaulted your clit while you became a whimpering mess. You didn't even have energy to tell him you were cumming, clenching around his finger, your back arching off the bed.

Lance kept going, his mouth latched around you until you pushed him off.

"Too sensitive," you whimpered and he gave you a huge grin. He got off the floor and moved up to you giving you a short kiss. Surprising him, you pulled him down and maneuvered your way on top.

Pulling his boxers down, his dick slapped up against his skin and you took a sharp breath as you took in the size. Lance started to say something but you had started grinding your pussy along the length of him, and his breath hitched. He brought his hand up to one of your breasts, circling his thumb around your nipple.

Eventually you gripped him up and slowly slid down causing him to throw his head back against the wall. Moving your hands on his chest to support you, you started moving up and down. Rolling your hips into him made Lance groan out and dig his fingers harshly into your waist.

As you felt yourself getting closer you started moving faster against him.

"Come on sweetheart, use me," he rasped out and you leaned forward wrapping your hands around his throat as you rutted against him, chasing your high. "Fuck baby."

"Yeah you like that? You like me choking you," you said breathlessly. His hand hit your ass hard and that finally sent you over the edge, crying out as your orgasm crashed against you. Before you even had time to think, he flipped you over shoving your head into the pillows before slipping back in.

He gripped your hips hard and started pounding into you. Lance yanked your head up by your hair holding you into his chest as he spilled into you.

Pulling out, he set you down gently and you tried to come back to life. You heard him go to the bathroom and rolled over looking at your phone to see a text asking where you went from Lando. You replied quickly before seeing Lance come back with a wet towel in his hands. You winced as it touched your inner thighs and Lance looked up at you.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked and you shook your head silently. You weren't used to this gentle side of him. He put the towel away before putting his sweats back on and sliding in next to you. You turned over, laying your head on his chest and felt his arm wrap around you. Snuggling into him, you drifted off.

Leaving Lance in bed the next morning you were deep in thought while making pancakes. This was unknown territory. First of all, you never let one-night stands sleep over. But this was Lance and you knew him. You were sure it was definitely a one-night stand but then you weren't sure. You admittedly had enjoyed spending time with him the past month but your mind went back to what Lando had said. He just wanted to hook up. Maybe it was better to just move on like it hadn't happened.

"Hey," his voice said, pulling you out of your thoughts. You turned to see him staring at you, running a hand through his hair.

"Hey," you said nonchalantly. "Are you staying for breakfast or no?"

"I should probably head out," he said. This was what he had decided would be his test to see what you were thinking about last night. Would you want him to stay or not?

"Cool, I'll see you in Zandvort then," you said casually and turned back to your food. He didn't want to stay you thought to yourself.

She doesn't want me to stay, Lance thought and pulled his shirt over his head before heading out.

Wednesday night before the Dutch GP

Lando had been pestering you about Lance nonstop on the flight to Zandvort.

"I just don't believe that this is just another one night stand," he said eyeing you suspiciously.

"I don't know what to tell you Lando," you replied not looking up from your phone. "We were two consenting adults looking to blow off steam."

"Yeah but the pictures from the gala, come on, there is at least something there," he said.

"First of all, stop looking at gossip pages and second of all, he didn't want to stay and that's okay," you said. "Could there have been potentially something more? Maybe, but he left."

"Well did you ask him to stay?"

"I didn't tell him to leave."

Lando threw up his hands in defeat. "You are impossible."

You spent the hour after landing in an all drivers meeting where you had seen Lance for the first time since that night. He nodded towards you but made no move forward. You were petty back, choosing to sit on the far end of the table away from him at the dinner after the meeting. Some of the WAGs were there so you spent a lot of time talking to Alex Albon's gf Lily and subtly glancing at Lance every so often. Lando caught you once smirking which resulted in you kicking his shins causing him to yell out.

Towards the end of the night you were contemplating going over there but the next time you looked up, he was talking to a random blonde who was clearly flirting with him. You watched him flirt back and an unknown feeling washed over your body. You were upset? Something about him flirting with someone else was hurting you and you were shocked to feel yourself getting teary eyed.

Abruptly, you stood up, mumbling something about being tired and avoiding Lando's concerned glance. Lance's attention was now on you and he caught your eyes, his own widening when he noticed but you quickly vanished. He shot a confused look at Lando who looked from Lance to the blonde before getting up to catch up to you.

"Y/n," Lando called out and you slowed allowing him to catch up to you. You had called an Uber already and were just waiting for it to arrive.

"What's wrong with me?" You said, turning to Lando, a few tears falling down your face. He pulled you into his arms, rubbing your back.

"It's okay," he murmured as more tears leaked out of your face.

"I don't even like him like that," you said pulling back and Lando gave you a sympathetic look. "Fuck."

The Uber pulled up and you both climbed into it and headed back to the hotel.

--------------------------------

Lance's POV

Being race day, most of the drivers were in the zone even early in the morning but Lance didn't care anymore as he hunted Lando down, finally cornering him at McLaren.

"What did I do wrong?" He begged Lando. "She won't look at me, she basically bolts from every room I enter, she won't answer my texts."

Lando shifted from one foot to another, not knowing what to say. Lance went on.

"I thought she just wanted it to be one night. She didn't ask me to stay and never texted me after. But then what happened Wednesday? She looked at me, clearly upset and left. And now this."

"I think she's just confused," Lando finally says. "I think initially she thought it would be a one-time thing, but seeing you flirt with that girl made it real."

"Fucking hell," Lance said, running a hand through his hair. "She didn't ask me to stay!"

"Well, she didn't ask you to leave?" Lando said hesitantly and Lance glared at him.

Y/n's POV

Your team did its final checks before giving you a thumbs up and running off the track. You locked in, ready to race and took off into lap one. Your first ten laps were great. Starting in P12, you had already passed two others and were looking for a third overtake.

One second, everything was fine. The next second you felt someone clip your back wheel causing you to spin out into the car in front of you and flip. The world went black.

Then you were back. Someone was yelling your name. Lance? You looked up to see him prying your helmet off, eyes wild with panic. Trying to move your legs, you started to freak out when you couldn't get your right one to budge.

"I can't move my leg," you said panicking. "I can't move my leg!"

Two arms wrapped under your arms and pulled you out of the car. The sudden movement triggered a wave of dizziness and you stumbled a little. Lance picked you up bridal style and behind the loud ringing in your ears you could hear him screaming at someone.

"Where is the fucking medical team?" He screamed. You were going in and out of consciousness. The next moment of clarity came being loaded in the ambulance. You saw Lance being held back by stewards and you mumbled his name reaching out. They finally let go, allowing him in the ambulance and then the world went black again.

---------------------------------------------

Waking up you were confused. You knew you were in a hospital room but this one was so nice it felt like it wasn't real. Your bed was bigger, there was a nice couch next to the bed, a massive flat screen tv, and what looked to be like a fully stocked fridge.

Your head throbbed and you looked down to see that you were not in a hospital gown but an Aston Martin tshirt. Your right leg was propped up, knee wrapped with ice.

"Hey sleepy head," Lando called out as he walked in, relieved to see you awake.

"Why am I in the fanciest hospital room ever?" You questioned and he snorted.

"That would be because Lance had the most Karen-like meltdown I have ever seen when they put you in a normal room. His dad had to pay someone off who had recorded it."

You soaked in that information. Where was he then? Lando saw your puzzled expression.

"Currently he is forcing your doctor here to consult with his family doctor back home about what appears to be a concussion and a torn ACL oddly enough."

"I remember him pulling me out, did he crash too?"

"Yeah, when Esteban hit you, you flipped into Lance. I'm sure you remember some of it after but the videos are crazy. He was a madman holding you."

You heard voices from the hallway and sucked in a breath as the man himself walked into the room. He stopped when he saw that you were awake and just stared.

"I'll show myself out then, I'll see you at home," Lando said, leaning in to kiss your forehead before leaving. Lance nodded to him as he left before slowly making his way to your side, pulling up a chair to sit in.

"I'm guessing this shirt is courtesy of you," you said, breaking the ice. He nodded, taking your hand into his caressing your skin softly. "So what's the verdict, when can I go home?"

"Later today, I have the jet already to go for us when we are ready," he said and you nodded.

"Lando is heading back now, and he's getting stuff from your apartment to drop off at my place," he said nonchalantly and your head snapped up to him.

"What are you talking about?"

"You are staying with me for the time being."

He noticed your anger rising and kept going.

"Look I'm done doing this whole do you like me or not thing. The answer was clear when you stormed out of that restaurant. I live in a million-dollar condo with a full staff which will be a lot more comfortable for you. You can stay in whatever room you want, though I would prefer you stayed in mine."

You crossed your arms glaring at him.

"You are insufferable." He leaned closer to you holding your face in both of his hands.

"I don't care," he said. "When you passed out in my arms I was scared out of my mind that I would lose you. Life is short and I'm not wasting more time not being with you."

Your heart swelled at his words, breaking your resolve about the temporary move thing. You leaned forward, kissing him softly.

"Now let's see that video of you having a karen meltdown," you said with a wicked grin.

[vivwritesfics]

Okay bonus bc you asked for Christmas/winter break ideas! What about Oscar taking Lando & reader to experience and Aussie Christmas and they’re just on the beach and bbq-ing etc and they can’t get over how different it is from uk Christmas’s 🤣

"Okay so we're starting at mine with my family, mum will do the traditional roast and then we do a family walk on the beach. And then we head off to Landos for a second round of British Christmas and then, by the end of the week, we're off to Australia for Oscar to give us the traditional Australian Christmas. Sound like a plan?" Asked Y/N as she flipped through her diary, laying the plan out before her boyfriends.

"Sounds good to me, baby," said Lando as he leaned back in his seat.

Oscar took a moment to look through Y/Ns plan. "This is a lot of travelling. Are you guys sure you're okay with that?"

They nodded their heads as they looked at their Australian. "Definitely, Osc. I seriously can't wait to experience my first Australian Christmas," Y/N said as she wrapped her arms around him. She ran his hands through his hair, pushing it away from his face and used it to tip his head back and give him a quick kiss.

First they had to get through Y/Ns British Christmas. Her family wasn't very understanding of their relationship, and it had taken a good year but they'd gotten used to it now. Now they said nothing, Y/N father would just give them funny looks. They had the roast dinners Y/Ns mother prepared and took her nieces and newphews on a rather cold beach walk. All three of them were wrapped up warm, with Lando and Oscar wearing their Mclaren caps.

And then it was off to Lando's. His Christmas was much the same as Y/Ns, but his family nicer and they didn't do a freezing cold beach walk.

And then they were jetting off for Australian Christmas and New year's. The light was long, with Y/N napping against Lando as he and Oscar watched a movie (but, in no time at all, they were sleeping too, the three of them all laying against each other).

Things were hot when they landed, not like they had been in England. Oscar was so excited to take Y/N and Lando to his parents. They'd met his mum during the season (and she loved the two of them) but they hadn't yet been to his place in Australia.

On the first night they had a seafood barbecue. Only half of thr barbecue had fish, the other had was regular (because they had fussy britches with them). Oscar had on his shorts and flip flops (or thongs) on as he barbecued, showing off his skills. "Looking good, Osc," Lando grinned as he watched him, sweating as he slaved over the barbecue.

Oscar blushed red as Y/N and Lando grinned at him.

The next day, Christmas day, they went for a swim. The water was lovely as Y/N, Lando and Oscar swam in the Australian sea. It was wonderfully refreshing, considering Lando and Y/N would usually be in their pyjamas, wrapped up warm under blankets as they drank hot chocolate.

There was backyard cricket and a traditional Christmas dinner. Barbecue, cold ham and turkey, potato bake and alcohol. They had pavlova and trifle with beer to top it off.

At the end of the night, Lando, Y/N and Oscar sat on the beach, staring out at the seas. It was the first time they'd managed to be alone since arriving in the land down under. "How have you guys enjoyed your first aussie Christmas?" Oscar asked, his arms wrapped around them.

"Absolutely loved it," Y/N said as she dug her toes into the sand.

"It was brilliant, Osc. Thank you," lando said and kissed him.

[aimeedaisies]

On the road with the inexhaustible Princess Anne

8am 800 miles travelled, 12pm 650 hands shaken, 9pm 0 cups of tea drunk

By Hannah Furness, 9 May 2024

The Princess Royal is standing up a 42ft tower, looking out to sea in a north-westerly force six wind. Her hair, that neat up-do that has barely changed in 40 years, does not move, even as a sudden gust blows a seagull past her eyeline.

‘It’s quite exposed,’ she says, with understatement, then gets on with peppering her hosts with questions about tides, volunteer timetables and what precisely the diggers on the beach below are doing.

Outside the watchtower, her arrival in the Lancashire seaside town of Fleetwood has caused the smallest of stirs. A handful of curious dog-walkers gaze at her, camera-phones aloft, and she offers them a brief wave.

Inside, the volunteers of the National Coastwatch Institution (NCI) could not be more excited for a visit from their royal patron. The chairman, Stephen Hand, launches into a stream of compliments about the Princess’s work. ‘If I haven’t made the point clearly enough,’ he finishes, ‘we love her.’

This is her first engagement in a day that will see her travel 421 miles from Gloucestershire to Lancashire, then Merseyside, and back again via helicopter and Range Rover. It is one of 10 engagements in this typical week; she will complete about 450 this year.

‘She’s a dynamo,’ says the CEO of The Pony Club. ‘The best president imaginable,’ agrees the chairman of Carers Trust. ‘She should be queen,’ offers a member of the public. This is said at least once a day.

Not for nothing does she have the reputation as Britain’s hardest-working royal. In numbers of engagements, she and the King vie for the top spot each year. While he and the Princess of Wales have taken time off from public engagements to undergo cancer treatment, the 73-year-old Princess Royal has ploughed on with her head down, her work the definition of ‘unsung’.

Most of the time, that is how she likes it. She has eschewed the ‘rota’ system of journalists, photographers and broadcasters who cover her family’s outings. ‘I don’t go for their benefit,’ she once said of the press. ‘I go for the people who ask me.’

This week, in the middle of April, she has made an exception to grant vanishingly rare permission for The Telegraph to follow her on the road, for a snapshot of her work.

At no small effort from her close-knit team, which has accommodated me in its nomadic office, I have been allowed to document her encounters with the approximately 650 people she has met, the many charities and organisations she has put in the spotlight – and report from inside a Windsor Castle investiture for the first time.

I’ve spent seven years writing about the Royal family, travelling across the UK and the world to watch them at work, but Princess Anne’s no-fuss, no-frills team is unlike anything I’ve seen up close before. Professional and precise, she barely stops – every hand is shaken and every minute counts.

The Plan

The Princess’s diary is set months in advance. Twice a year, her office sends an invitation to 300-plus organisations she is affiliated with, asking for their requests for her time. Typically she’ll receive 1,000 to 1,200 requests a year – some suggest a visit, others ask her to write forewords to books, or ask for meetings. All are compiled into a database, arranged by date and region, and printed neatly in a book for the Princess to study. ‘[She] goes through everything required and decides what she’s going to do and when,’ says a member of the team. A planning meetings follows – and ‘once [the programme is] set, she sticks to it’.

Across the year, the Princess Royal travels the width and breadth of the United Kingdom

Her staff then go through it again to add last-minute audiences into the gaps. ‘The week is there to be filled,’ one long-serving team member tells me. ‘If she’s got a free hour and a half in London, we’ll look again to see what else to add.’

The Princess’s team is small but mighty. There’s her private secretary, Colonel John Boyd, who is fresh from 32 years in the British Army; her deputy private secretary, Commander Anne Sullivan (the double Annes occasionally cause confusion for outsiders); as well as five programme managers tasked with ironing out the exact schedule, right down to how long the Princess can spend talking to each person.

They are aided by 13 ladies-in-waiting, spread geographically, who accompany her out and about. Some of her first, who began working with her in the early 1970s, have only just retired.

‘You never quite know what she’s going to say yes to, but it’s never an outright no,’ says the long-serving team member of her schedule. ‘She’s probably been to more industrial estates than any other royal.

Monday - Estimated miles travelled - 0 (worked from home)

Hands shaken - 8

‘It’s a balance of what do the organisations want, what could she hear or learn or teach here? Every day is a school day where the Princess is concerned.’

At Gatcombe Park, her Gloucestershire home, the Princess’s assistant, Donna, welcomes a small group of eight smartly dressed representatives from the Royal Dairy Innovation Award with a cup of tea and a biscuit.

The Princess joins them once they are settled, in a homely barn conversion with framed seascapes on the walls. She reassures them that it’s ‘not going to be one of those formal events’, then starts grilling them about the Nova Scotian dairy industry and on-shore salmon farming.

Ash Amirahmadi OBE, winner of the prestigious Princess Royal Award, is there to officially collect the certificate honouring his leadership in the dairy industry. Afterwards, when the private engagement has sunk in, he tells me: ‘We had practised our formalities but she immediately put us at ease.

‘I was thinking, “How does she know this stuff, and how does she remember?” I come across eminent scientists and business leaders and not many have a better understanding of the food system than the Princess Royal.’

Ash Amirahmadi, the winner of this year’s Princess Royal Award, pictured with the Princess Royal

Before he leaves, the Princess tells him that she’ll be in touch to sign him up to deliver a speech at a conference next year.

She fits in a horse ride, dodging the worst of the day’s rain and hail she feared could be ‘painful’.

‘There’s no such thing as bad weather,’ she says later, with satisfaction. ‘Only inappropriate clothing.’

Tuesday - Estimated miles travelled - 421

Hands shaken - 200+

In Fleetwood, the wind whips across the sandy beach and the Princess Royal doesn’t flinch. She is there with a handful of volunteers from the NCI, celebrating its 30th anniversary. With an average age of 69, these are the local ‘eyes and ears’ that saved 22 people from trouble in the water last year by raising the alarm.

After a turn with the telescope, the Princess – wearing a navy-blue coat, colourful silk scarf and (the now famous) wraparound sunglasses – reaches the top of the Rossall Point Observation Tower, which looks out over Morecambe Bay, where conditions can be treacherous.

The Princess Royal inspects the Rossall Point Observation Tower

‘It really is extraordinary,’ she says. ‘Classically people say the sea is never the same, but in a place like this it really never is the same. The seasons, the bird life, the activity…’ Everyone nods.

This visit, it emerges, has little in common with most royal engagements, where guests of honour hear how things work. This has more of an air of a diligent business manager checking in on a regional branch. Nothing needs explaining to the Princess, a keen sailor and lighthouse aficionado, and she wins the approval of what could be a tough crowd with on-the-money observations about tide timings.

She speaks sparingly. Questions and remarks are formed from one or two words: ‘Since?’ ‘Previous experience?’ ‘Quite handy.’ She has a reply to everything, having travelled every inch of Britain in the line of duty.

John Bradford, who at 77 is the longest-serving volunteer, waits on the tower to shake her hand, but he is accidentally missed. The Princess is swept on to the next part of the engagement, presenting long-service awards and meeting 25 more volunteers in the nearby Marine Hall, accompanied by her new lady-in-waiting Dolly Maude, a midwife and friend of Zara Tindall who wastes no time in charming the room.

When her team discover someone has been missed out, they tell the Princess directly and Mr Bradford is whisked into the very last line-up.

‘I’m very glad you made it in,’ the Princess tells him, spending an extra few moments in conversation.

Then, plaque and certificate duties completed, she disappears to a back room where sandwiches are on offer. Ten minutes later, she’s back on the road.

It is a cliché that the Royal family thinks the world smells of fresh paint. The ground floor of the watchtower was drained of flood water shortly before the Princess’s arrival and the corridors at her next engagement in Merseyside have the distinct smell of bleach – but at the Wrea Green Equitation Centre in Preston, it is quite the opposite: a muck heap has been left intact. The hosts deem futile any attempts to fool the Princess into thinking it didn’t exist. She is, after all, a life-long equestrian.

She arrives on time; I do not. Without a helicopter, it’s impossible to keep up with her formidable itinerary.

Skipping the champagne reception and tea party, put on to celebrate 25 years of the Pony Club Centre Membership Scheme, the Princess instead strides around the yard watching the young riders and their parade of ponies.

She tours the stables and classrooms, chatting to children about horse massage and how side-saddle is still relevant for people with prosthetic legs, then she holds a presentation of commemorative plaques to 20 proprietors, each of whom has a different chat with her.

When a ‘naughty pony’ in a stable behind her unties itself to join the royal party, she is entirely unfazed.

‘She didn’t mind a bit,’ says Marcus Capel, CEO of The Pony Club – she simply carries on talking while stroking the pony’s ears.

The third engagement of the day: Sefton Carers Centre at Waterloo in Merseyside, which supports unpaid carers. Some of those assembled remember the Princess from 30 years ago, when she opened the centre. She is back to celebrate the anniversary.

Wearing a red jacket that looks strikingly similar to the one she was wearing back then (only the length and buttons are different), she hails a stream of people with a cheerful, ‘I haven’t seen you for a while,’ and, ‘This has changed a bit.’

The Princess Royal visits the Sefton Carers Centre to celebrate its 30th anniversary

Everyone is assembled in horseshoe shapes – her preferred arrangement for talking – and she ploughs on with gloved handshakes, getting through five large rooms of people. Among them are two men in their 90s who care for their wives with dementia, an eight-year-old girl in a wheelchair dressed as a princess, and teenagers who look after siblings and parents before and after school.

Some are nervous; a few curtseys are a little shaky. The Princess has a neat trick: her questions get more specific – no opinions are required, just short, easy-to-recall facts, to help ease them in. ‘Where do you live?’ ‘How long have you been coming here?’

Her own opinions are brief, delivered as common sense. On hearing that GPs don’t see the same families from cradle to grave any more, so find it difficult to support carers, the Princess says: ‘That’s part of the way people live their lives.’

She spends a few extra moments talking to the building’s cleaner, loudly declaring her ‘very important’. When one woman jokes about her long service, adding, ‘I think my face shows it,’ the Princess does an exaggerated double-take and says, ‘I’m sure that’s not true.’

She has another habit, shared with King Charles, of ending engagements by turning back for one last comment, leaving the impression she wishes she could stay.

The Princess Royal cuts the cake, on the promise it will be eaten

Downstairs, she unveils her third plaque of the day. There is a celebratory cake on the table in front of her and an expectant crowd waiting. She takes control of the moment. ‘You want the cake cut? On the basis that you’re going to eat it? Otherwise it’s just vandalism.’

Before she leaves, she is presented with a large rose planter. ‘Oh my word, a monster!’ she marvels. ‘What a lovely thing… I hope the helicopter can cope.’

By the end of the day, in small heels and with the briefest of breaks, she has spoken to at least 250 people. If she’s flagging, it doesn’t show.

Wednesday - Minutes of continuous conversation - 180

Hands shaken - 140

At 11 o’clock in Windsor Castle, Yeomen of the Guard stand on duty in the Grand Reception Room, as the Countess of Wessex’s String Orchestra plays quietly. The Princess Royal moves into position, wearing naval uniform, and the orchestra strikes up with God Save the King. Standing on a dais, a red velvet stool placed in front of her, she is ready for a full day of investitures.

The Princess is one of only three members of the family who perform them and while the King and the Prince of Wales have been needed at home, she has been carrying the load.

Some 140 people will receive an honour today, among them Paul Hollywood, who is being made an MBE. The pair discussed the smells of baking, he says later. ‘She loves Chelsea buns. I did promise her some so I’m not quite sure how I’m going to sort it out.’

The Great British Bake Off judge Paul Hollywood was among those honoured by the Princess Royal

Diana Parkes, a domestic violence campaigner who has worked with Queen Camilla in memory of her daughter, is made a CBE. She finds immediate common ground with the Princess via a family member who sold her horses.

One of the large team that makes the investitures happen tells me quietly that ‘you can always tell when it’s HRH’ on duty, because the day takes longer.

In theory, the Princess has her deputy private secretary on hand to jog her memory with details about people as the Lord Chamberlain announces each name. In practice, says a long-serving aide, she sends investiture notes back with her own comments about where she has met people before and which of her patronages they have links to. This is the case ‘95 per cent of the time’.

‘She’s got such a great brain. We often hear, “You must have briefed her really well,” but no, it’s all her. She makes it very easy in that respect.’ As each encounter winds up with a brisk handshake, recipients walk backwards to bow – desperate to get it right before rejoining their watching families. The Princess smiles at each one like they could not have performed it better.

After the 90-minute session has overrun slightly, she takes lunch in the private apartments before repeating it all in the afternoon.

Thursday - Core working hours - 9

Hands shaken - 250+

London’s Guildhall. The Princess Royal arrives via train for The Lord Mayor’s Big Curry Lunch, a City fundraiser for military veterans which has raised more than £3.3 million since it began in 2008.

To walk in as an outsider is to enter a new world where London’s livery companies (guilds dating back to medieval times) line the corridors with stalls – the Worshipful Companies of Bakers, Fruiterers, Gardeners, Pewterers and Framework Knitters are all there.

The Princess has no entourage, only her protection officers and one lady-in-waiting. She does not bat an eyelid at being escorted in by members of The Company of Pikemen & Musketeers, who wield weapons from the Charles I era and take their roles seriously.

Guests are an eclectic mix – a pearly queen mingles with barristers and bankers, alongside the military. An injured veteran in his mid-30s tells me: ‘In the Army, I’ve often been in front of high-ranking people who don’t care what you have to say at all… She’s different.’

Michael Hockney, co-chairman of the event, says the Princess is ‘very well-known and popular in the City because she’s involved in the livery movements’.

The Princess Royal greets the traders at London's Guildhall

Lunch is served on long tables. The Princess sits with servicemen and women, eating from an identical plate piled with chicken tikka masala, prawn malai, dal, rice and mango chutney.

Ballanupalli Sainath Rao, executive chef, asks if she remembers her last visit, in 2015, when she said she knew the factory of the company supplying the food and thought they could offer more variety than chicken every year. ‘Two meats and three vegetables,’ she suggested. Chef Rao added the prawn dish on that advice. ‘We had a lot of compliments.’

The Princess is plied with goodie bags, including matching socks for her and Vice Admiral Sir Tim Laurence, her husband. On her way out, she views a small garden with artwork by children from forces families and inspects a stall from the Worshipful Company of Fishmongers (est 1272); the stallholders have been hastily restocking ice and swatting away flies as they wait in the sunshine.

‘She was saying it’s great to see the array of fish,’ fishmonger Andrew Kenny explains afterwards. ‘She asks really precise questions… It’s very disarming.’

Climbing into a waiting car, the Princess tells the organisers: ‘[I’m] not causing too much chaos, I hope.’ And then she’s off – next stop Buckingham Palace.

At 7pm, the Princess Royal walks through the ‘secret door’, disguised as a mirror and cabinet, which links the Palace’s private rooms to the White Drawing Room, a State Room with a gold piano, familiar from some of the late Queen Elizabeth II’s Christmas broadcasts. Tonight, she is hosting a black-tie dinner to celebrate The Duke of Edinburgh’s Commonwealth Study Conferences, which bring together future leaders to address pressing problems facing the world. In particular, she is saluting the Canadian team, which has led the way in hosting the conferences and keeping her father’s vision alive.

The Princess Royal enters Buckingham Palace's White Drawing Room via the secret door.

Wearing a long skirt and sequinned jacket in red to match the Canadian flag, she carries a handbag under her arm and wears her late mother’s three-strand pearls. Unlike other royals, the Princess’s team won’t confirm to the press what exactly she is wearing. One suspects anyone who asked would get short shrift.

She spends roughly an hour in the Picture Gallery, working her way through a crowd. One guest tells her of her memories of a drinks reception with the late Queen and Prince Philip on Britannia, during their visit to Ontario in 1984. Asking another about their trip to London, she agrees that walking is the best way to get around, although ‘not at this time of night and dressed like this’.

Ahead of a dinner of poached citrus salmon salad, roasted lamb, and crème brûlée with poached rhubarb, the Princess delivers an eight-minute speech. At one time, she is said to have written every speech herself. Nowadays, she often works from prepared notes, which she edits ruthlessly with liberal red pen strokes and capital letters.

The conferences, she says, were ‘envisioned by my late father, but I suspect he never thought it would last this long.

The Princess Royal greets guests at the Duke of Edinburgh's Commonwealth Study Conferences dinner.

‘At the moment, in these rather difficult times – post-Covid and just generally complicated – it’s just as important to have the ability to bring people together across the widest possible range.’

The Princess will stay on for dinner, sitting at a round table and entertaining guests until long after sundown.

Friday - Minutes on feet presenting honours - 90

Hands shaken - 79

Friday morning and the Princess is back at it with an investiture. There are 79 people this time, with their families, in the Throne Room at Buckingham Palace.

Neil Constable, former CEO of Shakespeare’s Globe, is here to receive his OBE for services to theatre. He says afterwards that the ‘professional’ Princess knew the brief so well that she could make conversation about both his previous job and his next, at The Musicians’ Company. She told him she had just been to the Guildhall that week for the Big Curry Lunch, adding, ‘You’ll have a great time with them.’

‘You leave thinking, wow, actually we had a really good conversation,’ he says. ‘We talked about her late father Prince Philip being a long-standing patron of the Globe and how some of the timber from the Globe came from Windsor Great Park’, donated by Prince Philip.

‘[She] made it a very special day.’

At this point, I close the notebook that clocks in at 84 pages of shorthand. Everyone – kindly, warmly, generously – is saying the same thing, and we have run out of superlatives. The job, too, must get repetitive but you would never know it. In continually asking questions, the Princess has found a way to keep interested even after all these decades.

Princess Anne salutes at the conclusion of a commissioning ceremony aboard HMCS Max Bernays as part of Fleet Week, in North Vancouver, B.C

She treats her work as a ‘nine-to-five job’, one Palace source tells me. ‘Except it doesn’t often finish at five.’ I have barely seen her sit and haven’t seen her accept a single cup of tea while working.

The week after we meet, the Princess will be in Windsor, Shropshire, Cambridgeshire, London and Cornwall. After that, she will go from the Royal Windsor Horse Show to Canada for a three-day trip with Sir Tim.

She will be 75 next year but shows no sign of slowing down. I am half her age – and after barely a week of trying to keep up with her, I’m off for a lie down.

Weekly total

Estimated miles travelled - 818

Hands shaken - 677+

[finelinevogue]

smile

summary - harry can’t go a show without calling you beforehand

warnings: fluff?! swearing, it’s based off that photo abov

word count: -1k

L.A. traffic had its reputation for being the worst traffic on the planet.

You’d drive 50 metres and it will have taken you 50 minutes. There was no traffic like it - other than maybe the M25 outside London.

Most people would avoid this traffic, trying to get to their destinations with as little car congestion as possible. However, Harry had other plans. Harry would happily sit for 50 minutes to travel 50 metres, because he happened to love car journeys.

They were his only trips alone. They were a few minutes, or a few hours, of solitary peace and he depended on them to keep him sane. The only other person he would be okay enough to share this time with was his fiancé; you.

Normally you’d be travelling sat next to him, his hand on your thigh whilst you both hum along to the shared playlist you’d both created. However, on this particular journey Harry found himself alone with you staring at him through the phone on Face Time.

You were away with work for a few days and out of town, meaning you couldn’t be there for some of Harry’s shows. However, that didn’t stop you both from talking to each other 24/7. Any spare moment you both had you’d be on FaceTime. If Harry went shopping he’d call you. If you went to the loo you’d call him. If you were reading in bed he’d want you to call so he could read with you.

FaceTime kept your relationship in the honeymoon phase - even 3 years after the honeymoon phase is supposedly over.

As Harry drove himself to the Forum he couldn’t help but be ecstatic when you answered first try on FaceTime.

“Heyyy, love.” He smiled at you, whilst stopping at a red light.

You were busy putting on your makeup for the day, so your phone was propped up on a vanity so Harry could see your head down to your waist. Your makeup was splayed out in front of you and you picked up some concealer to carry on with your routine.

“Hello, my favourite human.” You replied, cheerily grinning over your reply.

“Favourite human? Quite like the sound of that. Might even top fiancé.” Harry said, reaching to turn the radio off so he could only hear you. It would be rude of him to have anything drowning out the sound of your voice.

“Really?”

“Maybe not. Fiancé does just have a night ring to it, doesn’t it?” With one hand on the steering wheel, his other hand went to rub his fingers over the top of his lips where his moustache was growing in. As he did so, his engagement ring sat pretty and made you internally squeal at how you were the person attached to that ring.

“I think i’ll like husband better.” You answered honestly.

“It’s weird we’re both each others fiancés now, but when we get married you’ll be my wife and I’ll be your husband - like we’ll have different names for each other then.” Harry drove on green.

“You can still be my wife if you want. My little housewife.” You giggled at the thought.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? Me, in an apron, making dinner and doing the laundry.” He teased, unfortunately not catching your reaction since he was concentrating on the road.

“You do that already, H.” You laughed. “Are you off to the venue?”

“Hm? Uh, yeah, yeah.” Harry was momentarily distracted as he had to turn onto a busy junction. His UK driving was a lot easier than LA, because of how short and simple the roads were in London. New York driving wasn’t even worth thinking about.

“And how was therapy?” You moved on to fixing your eyebrows, being prepared to stop and listen carefully to Harry if needed be.

“Yeah, it was good. She helped me through some of that tour stuff I was worried about.”

“About being away from family for so long?” You double checked.

“Yeah, yeah. She was trying to explain that if I’m happy doing what i’m doing then that’s all my family should want for me. Just happiness.”

“She’s right H. Your mum will be perfectly fine, as long as she knows that you’re happy - and that you’ll call often.”

“I try.” He said honestly.

“I know you do. I mean, when you’re not calling me that is.” You laughed, trying to lighten the situation with a bit of silly humour.

Harry got stuck in another traffic jam, meaning he would be late for rehearsals but he didn’t care because it meant more time on the phone with you. His favourite moments were spent with you, so he’d take ever extra second he could just to make new and happy memories.

“Have you had breakfast already?” Harry asked, in awe of watching you put on your makeup.

Harry was lucky to find someone that cared more about other people and the world than colouring in their skin and buying fake boobs. So your makeup routine didn’t in fact take too long to run through.

“Not yet, no.”

“Well, please have something before you leave, alright?” Harry asked, always concerned for you and your health whenever he wasn’t around to take care of you. He liked being the one to make you breakfasts in the morning, so often when you were apart from each other he’d believe you weren’t eating anything as good as what he makes - which is true, but you do also eat still.

“Okay, yes. I promise.” You rolled your eyes at him but gave him a smile, knowing he only meant well. “Have you eaten?”

“I actually am on my way to have lunch with Jeff now. He wants to run through Grammy stuff.” Harry explained.

“How are you feeling about that? The Grammy noms, I mean. Tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, tomorrow, yeah. Um, I’m feeling alright y’know? Like, I thought I’d feel a lot more dependent on them, but I think after last year I’m still feeling that high. Any nom would be great, but if I don’t get any then I also know that it is a great album and there was only one person I wanted to impress with it anyways.”

“Oh yeah? Who?” You asked, knowing the reply already.

“You.”

You smiled and shook your head. He was too cheesy sometimes, but it was no lie, or secret, that Harry’s House had been solely made for you. It was a love letter from Harry to you and a declaration to the world that Harry Styles was the happiest he’s ever been.

[emsgwenstan]

Holding on to our family

{Larissa Weems x fem niece reader.}

Words: 2k

Warnings: flashbacks, angst, hurt.

Note/summary: after Larissa’s death, y/n heads back to nevermore to tie some loose end or attempt to anyway.

2 miles to Jericho. That’s it. You know how far the township is from the airport like the back of your hand, but for the first time you wish you didn’t because then the sickening feeling wouldn’t be so prominent. You remember the first time you traveled to Vermont from London, you were 14 and she happily greeted you at the station in Burlington.

The sun was unwelcomly shining and casting rays through the branches, she loved the sun, the shadows whipping over the car from the ungodly speed you were doing. “Auntie lissa I’m scared.” You said. “Just go slow sweetheart, I’ll tell you when to change gears.” She smiled. “Ok, oh my- don’t you get scared passing other cars!” You shrieked. “You will be fine just concentrate on your side of the road. I promise you will be ok.” She said. And you believed her. If only she could see you now.

Passing by the Jericho sign you slowed down to take the turn off for nevermore’s drive way. ‘12 minutes’, you thought opting not to speed trying to drag it out for as long as you can. Once the iron gates came into view, your heart paced quicker. The nostalgia filled your senses as you recall how your nevermore days were the best of your life, you had friends, you did well in school, you had the privilege of having a single dorm with your own space and privacy and it was all thanks to her.

Larissa was the one who helped you on your darkest days, lightest and every other one in between, it started from the day you were born, your mother was absent and you father was always busy with his company and running off with his abundance of secretaries. She is- well was your fathers sister, your aunt consequently, but you forgot that most of the time, she was more like both the parents you needed in one, every holiday she would come back to the uk and visit, doing everything she possibly could, like teaching you to drive.

Putting the car in park in the lot that displays ‘reserved for principle L.W.’ You stepped out, the whole 6 feet of you, plus the extra inches from the heels you had on, straightened your blazer, did up the button then smoothed out your signature Weems, platinum blonde hair. The cobblestone clacking the whole trek, as expected once you rounded the corner many eyes set on your figure, students and teachers all going quiet and whispering to each other. Some you still remember.

Not stopping until you climbed the stairs to her office you made it on top of the mezzanine, your eyes flicked to her hanging portrait on one of the far walls. Pacing to the painting you admired it for a moment before you slid it aside to retrieve the spare key. For the first time in two years you stepped through the threshold of her office, it felt weird, wrong, the fire wasn’t alight, her laptop wasn’t resting on top of her desk, but everything else remained in exact place as the last time you saw it.

You walked around the desk to sit in her chair, just like you had many times before. “Here my sweet, sit here, it will be easier to do your homework.” She’d say. “Thanks lissa, you’re not leaving though?” You asked. “No, I am done for the day, but I’ll be right here on the lounge reading for a bit.” She said coming to stand behind your place in her chair, she pressed a kiss to the top of your head and walked over to lay down with her heels removed and legs slung over the edge of the couch. How you missed her.

As you sat tears started to well in your eyes, you discarded your sunglasses tossing them onto the table and rubbed at your eyes. Just then the door rang with a gentle knock. “Y/n?” A small voice asked as the door cracked open. Lifting your head from your hand a small smile graced your face. “Enid, hi.” You said standing, walking over to her with open arms. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come up here.” She said coming into your embrace. “Yeah well I had to some time.” You said. “I missed you.” She huffed into your chest. “I missed you to little lycan.” You said pulling back with wet eyes and a sniff. “Heeyyy, I love the hair.” You said groggily playing with the pink and blue tips. “Thanks.” She said sadly.

A moment went by when she spoke again. “I miss her too.” She said looking around the room. “Yeah.” You mumbled. A noise emanated through the door, you looked at Enid quizzically. “Um that’s Wednesday.” She said spinning on the spot and going to open the door, the girl really was like a storm cloud, literally black and white, just like how Larissa had explained. “Hello Wednesday.” You greeted. She peered at you unblinking until she looked you up and down. You extended a hand for her to shake and hesitantly she did so. “Y/n Weems, I’m Larissa’s niece.” You explained. “She told me a lot about you… don’t worry I don’t bite.” You said looking at Enid. “Well biting isn’t really a worry for you I suppose is it.” You said trying to ease the awkwardness. The look on Enid’s face was priceless, completely red. Wednesday on the other hand her scowl dropped immediately. “Hey that’s what happens when your added to this one’s close friends story on instagram.” You said giggling.

“You look like her.” Wednesday spoke, most likely her way of a shot at a compliment. “Thanks.” You said. “Ok wens we should go now.” Enid said dragging Wednesday behind her. “Horrified to meet you Wednesday.” You said, she peered over her shoulder and smirked, that gave you hope in possibly being on her good side. The door closes behind them and you paced to the middle of the room. ‘Guess I should consolidate with the staff.’ You thought with a sigh. “You will be fine, I know you don’t like talking to people but I’ll be right there the whole time, just waiting in the car.” She said. “I’m so nervous.” You expressed fixing your necklace in the mirror. “I know but you will feel so happy and relieved when you’re done.” She said standing behind you giving a squeeze to your shoulders. “What if they say they don’t want me as an employee?” You asked. “They would be silly not to consider you.” She said guiding you towards the door. In the end you got your first job at the mayor’s office as the receptionist, all thanks to the encouragement of her.

A while later finally finished meeting and greeting a few of the staff to let them know you will be staying for the week, all of them looked at you sympathetically as if they felt sorry for you, but you knew even when Larissa didn’t express it, that not one of them knew her or even cared enough try take some of the schools stress off her. You saw how it would take a toll, how tired she would be but never gave up and she never gave up on you. “Try again.” She nodded. You shifted for the second time and became the spitting image of your father. “Oh dear-.” She laughed, you cackled at the situation. “Out of everyone to pick.” She continued to laugh. “Ok your turn auntie lissa.” Your 15 year old self said shifting back to yourself and perching on her bed.

You hadn’t bothered to go backdown to the car and bring up your bags yet, when you return into the office you go straight to her quarters door. That damn door, how a piece of wood can be so imposing is beyond you, although once the door is unlocked and the hinges creak open you may never walk back out. You slid the key into the hole and twisted until it unlocked, you lent up against the architrave and observed the room, again everything in its place. Pacing inside you went and flopped on her bed, toeing off your heels and kicking them off the mattress, you snatched one of her pillows and hold it to yourself curling your legs up towards your stomach.

For the next hour you laid in the same position hugging onto the pillow like a life line, her sent still remaining. Pachouli, bergamot, vanilla and almost the faint smell of English breakfast tea. You scrolled through the photos in your phone’s gallery, seeing the ones from when you were born and an early twenties Larissa holding you, looking down at you as if her whole world just lit up. The timeline continued on all the way up to your early graduation from college, with Larissa holding onto your waist and you with an arm slung around her shoulders. You turn off your phone and break down sobbing into the pillow.

———

Two days have passed and all you had done is go through Larissa’s photos, clothes, trinkets and make up. You would take one piece of jewellery and wear it during the day just to feel a little bit closer to her, then when night came you would place it back in the exact spot you had taken it from. Nothing was boxed or packed, you couldn’t find it within you to place her things in a crammed space and send them home, this is what she has to show for her life and packing it away didn’t feel like an option.

Over the next two days you hung out with Wednesday and Enid, taking them into town, going to the weathervane, or just for a drive. You never really noticed how much you missed nevermore until now, unless perhaps it wasn’t the school that you truly missed, the memories are bittersweet, only now do they feel tarnished and painful, nevertheless it’s nice to know that you have a home a true home that comes with a chosen family, on the outings with the girls you were mistaken for being Enid’s older sister, to which you’d correct, though the mistake can be made since she’s 16 and you 23, only 7 years apart.

Returning back to school grounds you opted for a walk down to the lake, it felt like just yesterday you had won the Poe cup, having Larissa cheer you on from the side lines. You remember that even before you celebrated with your team you ran straight to her and embraced her with a joyful scream. It was nearing dawn and you decided to go back to your- her room, where you could use sleep as a procrastination.

“Larissa I’m an adult I can do anything I want!” You yelled. “Yes daring I know that but-.” She began. “No! Stop trying to keep me here, I want to go and experience things myself, I will not be rooted in one place like you, I actually need a life!” You exclaimed. Larissa straightened up and cleared her face of hurt emotions, turning into a stern look. “Fine.” She said. Your stomach churned. How disappointed she is. However you stuck it out and left, but before you could reach the door Larissa stopped you and wrapped her arms around your neck and breathed an I love you, one you didn’t return.

You sat up straight in bed gasping as the memory fades from your eyes, you look around to see the dimly lit room still and quiet through watery vision. “I’m sorry.” You whispered into the room. “I’m so so sorry… I love you too, I love you so much.” You said with your voice breaking and your throat sore. It displayed 3:02am on the clock resting on the bedside, you dragged yourself up and out of the tangled sheets to make a tea for yourself wrapping a blanket over your shoulders and back to keep warm.

With the beverage in hand you sat on the floor leaning against the end of the bed in front of the fire place, you were exhausted, the loop of the memory on repeat making every run through more painful. It was true the whole thing was real, you had been irrationally irritable that day, when you visited Larissa to tell her you were thinking of travelling alone across the world, the worst part was that Larissa was the one who actually encouraged you to travel and explore but to be careful and safe and yet you threw her support and generosity and care back in her face as if she were a monster. 

It only took 2 weeks until you were back in contact with one another, Larissa was relieved to know you were ok and you were relieved she forgave you as well as listened to every ‘I’m sorry’ you had to offer. Turns out going back to London to pack and prepare without her wasn’t fun or adventurous at all, if you were to do something, anything, you wanted to share the experience with her, because Larissa wasn’t just your aunt, no, she was practically your mother, roll model and your best friend. That was the last time you visibly saw her, two whole years ago, you would do anything to go back and wrap yourself around her frame and never let her go.

With the tea finished and cup discarded, you went back to bed in hopes of a restful sleep, but of course you weren’t that lucky. The next morning you felt tired and drained in every way, you spent the day walking the grounds, visiting Ophelia hall to see Wednesday and Enid, and finally ending the day with sitting on the floor of Larissa’s walk in closet to flip through the box she kept her year book, newspaper clippings and sentimental things, but it wasn’t just hers it was your things to, the nevermore newspaper from 6 years ago when you had been early excepted into a prestigious university, the hair clips she would put in your hair every time she came to visit when you were little, Polaroids from over the years and dated notes from significant days in the past.

“Y/n, are you ok sweetheart?” She asked looking up at you from her arm chair in the corner of her room. “Yeah…” you said quietly, looking down. “I wanna tell you something.” You murmured. Larissa slotted the bookmark in between the pages of her book and gave you her undivided attention, you pulled out a piece of paper and gave it to her to unfold. “I can’t say it.” You said pacing about the room. You could hear her unfolding the paper and the silence that followed, but a giggle interrupted the raging thoughts in your mind. “Oh darling… that’s ok, that’s wonderful, you shouldn’t be afraid to tell me such a thing. Come here.” She said, you turned and walked to her with your head down, as you sat lightly on her lap snuggled into her chest and tightly wrapped arms, she spoke again. “I love you no matter who or what you love, if you’re interested in girls or boys, vampires or werewolves I don’t mind……. can I tell you a secret?” She asked. “Yeah.” Larissa inhaled and slowly exhaled before she whispered in your ear. “Really?!” You said sitting upright. “Mhmm.” She smiled. “Oh, I was wondering why you didn’t like that nice man we spoke to at the grocery store the other day.” You said, in response Larissa laughed.

11/5/2019- y/n came out to me!

You traced her cursive handwriting at the bottom of the note you handed to her that day with a smile and placed it back in the box as well as putting the lid back on. Standing back up and turning the light off, you had a strange feeling that something wasn’t right, but ignored it. You grabbed the blanket from the bed and threw it over yourself going towards the office to turn off the lamps and stoke the fire before a knock on the door was heard. Walking over to it you opened the door to be met with one of the staff holding a few papers.

“Evening y/n, these were dropped off this afternoon, I thought I should bring them to you… sorry it’s late and I interrupted.” She said holding out the stack. “No it’s ok Melanie, I appreciate that thank you.” You said taking papers. “You have a relaxing night.” She said turning on her heels to leave. “You too.” You said closing the door. Wonderful, just what you wanted, letters with principal applicants, schedules of new school developments, an obituary form and a mediocre memorial service for Larissa. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” You said. Somehow you internally corrected yourself with the word ‘language’ as if you could hear the statement about to come from her.

Another knock, you rolled your eyes. “Come in.” Nothing but a stretch of silence. “Melanie, if you forgot to tell me something you can come in.” You said walking back to the door. Nothing could have prepared you for what lye behind it, you opened the door and the wind was knocked from you lungs. No. This isn’t real. “Wow, I’m going insane.” You said peering into those bright cerulean eyes, dropping the blanket from your shoulders. When her hand extended to cup your cheek, almost immediately tears ran down your cheeks. “You’re not real.” You breathe. She stepped closer to run her other hand over your hair. You could feel her. You could see her. You could smell her.

You stood still as if you could blink to hard and she’d be gone. “Hello my darling girl.” She said with a smile. As brief as it may be and as much as you didn’t want to you rubbed your eyes knowing she will be gone in a moment trying to flea from this torment…and yet her grip stayed prominent, her smell still lingers and her form remained. You were in pure shock, you brought your shaking hands to her face to trace at it just to be sure. She was there, she was here, she was home and she was finally back exactly where she’s supposed to be, with you.

“I have a lot to explain, but firstly…” she began. “I love you.”

@sabraaabra

[matan4il]

Update post:

The fighting along Israel's northern border continues. Today, a Hezbollah attack drone was intercepted over Ein Ha'Mifratz, not too far from the famously mixed city of Akko, in northern Israel. The IDF has been targeting terrorist squads and infrastructure in southern Lebanon in response to the on going Hezbollah attacks on civilians communities here. Meanwhile, a Hezbollah senior has threatened today that Israel is "not ready" for what they have prepared for it.

An Iranian delegation is visiting Egypt, and just like everything else that legitimizes the Islamist regime in Iran, and allows it to get a step closer to its vision of being a world power, this should concern us. The Iranian-funded Houthis have been attacking ships traveling through the Red Sea, which affects global shipping, but the impact to Egyptian economy is even greater, as all of these ships are not passing through the Suez Canal, meaning they're not paying Egypt for this passage either.

A big thank you to @curieklei for sharing this NYT link with me: France is another country clearly denouncing South Africa's false lawsuit against Israel. That's on top of the US, the UK, Canada, and Germany, with the latter even saying it would join the lawsuit on Israel's side.

Yesterday, Jan 18, was the one year birthday of Kfir Bibas, the youngest Israel hostage, who was kidnapped to Gaza when he was just 9 months old. He has spent a quarter of his life in captivity, and counting. In Tel Aviv, his uncle gave a speech, in which he brought up reading what developmental stepping stones Kfir should be going through right now, based on his age. He should be seeing many colors, but he's only experiencing darkness. He should be crawling on safe, warm ground, instead he's kept underground. In Jerusalem, a mural has been dedicated to Kfir and the rest of the Bibas family, including 4 years old Ariel, all still held hostage in Gaza. Since 'kfir' in Hebrew means lion cub, and 'ariel' means God's lion, the whole family is depicated as lions:

These are Shachar and Tamar. During the war, Shahar was seriously injured, and had to have his leg amputated. He's going through rehabilitation, and before even finishing it, he and his girlfriend Tamar got engaged:

The medical first aid that the army is giving the soldiers has dramatically increased their odds of surviving even some critical injuries. During the Second Lebanon War in 2006, the percentage of soldiers wounded, who died from their injuries, was 15%. During the Protective Edge operation in 2014, the percentage dropped to 9.2%. According to IDF statistics, so far in this war, the percentage is even lower, at 6.7%, less than half of what it used to be during the Lebanon war. These advancements in emergency medicine have also helped civilians injured seriously by Hamas terrorist on Oct 7 to survive. Much like in the past, it's sure to be used around the world, and help save the lives of many, without Israel ever getting credit for its global humanitarian aid.

This is 19 years old Adir Tahar.

On Oct 7, he was stationed at the Erez checkpoint, on the border between Gaza and Israel. Just a reminder: there were no Israelis going into Gaza since Israel withdrew in 2005. There were Gazans coming into Israel daily, to work here, to get medical treatment, etc. Without soldiers at the checkpoint, it would have been closed. By serving there, Adir wasn't just protecting Israelis, he was also serving the Palestinian population in Gaza.

On the day of the massacre, Adir fought back against the Hamas terrorist and saved many others, before he was killed in battle, when they shot an RPG at him. But then, they abused the body of this kid. They cut off parts of it, including beheading it. David Tahar, Adir's father, recently recounted how he watched a Hamas vid showing his son's headless body. What was left, was so mutilated, they had to identify it based on his dog tags, personal items he carried and DNA. During an interrorgation of two terrorists who were involved in this, it turned out that one of them tried to auction Adir's head for 10,000 $. The family originally had to bury the body, knowing its main parts were missing. The interrogation produced enough intel, for the IDF to be able to retrieve the head from where it was kept in an ice cream shop's freezer, with signs of further abuse on it. The family opened the grave and re-buried their kid.

They are now trying to raise enough money, to open a center for endangered youth, dedicated to Adir's memory, in the city where he lived, Jerusalem. The last time I saw an update, they were looking to raise 500,000 shekels, and got donations of 27,000 shekels. I really hope they succeed. Either way, may Adir's memory be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[jedibinx]

Let's pray for me today at my first shift back after spending the best two weeks of my life travelling the UK and Finland whilst spending time with friends, Käärijä family and seeing the love of my life live five times.

I am top right, second row five across and bottom row five across.

[ohkasie]

ᴀᴄᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ !

kasie, twenty two, polyamorous permashifter.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ ── welcome to my shiftblr, my little corner of the internet in order to share all of my shifting stories + feelings, as well as the things that i have learnt after nearly five years here.

— ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ !

please do feel free to call me jackson, kasie or kasper. the last two names are some of my dr names ! i have been involved in the shifting community since late 2019 + i have shifted once, minishifted many times to other realities, not mine ( last one was march time ).

i am a trans male, going by any male / ungendered pronouns. please don’t use any feminine nicknames for me. i am also very gay + aroace, so that has been a journey + i am currently in the process of trying to restart my shifting journey as i need to find more motivation for myself.

i have purely set up this page to interact with shifters, i find tumblr to be a great shifting place to share information ! but also to share information about my drs. i have a lot of drs + s/o’s, some which won’t be mentioned at all or very minimally. i cannot wait to find shifters to interact with !

— ᴍʏ ᴛᴀɢꜱ !

i will tag all the posts that I reblog or make in order to find them easily + for organisation reasons. the tags i will use will be :

[ #kasiesdrs ] — any information about my drs, specific ones too.

[ #kasiereblogs ] - information that i reblog on my account.

[ #kasieinteracts ] - any interactive posts that i make on shiftblr.

[ #kasieanswers ] - any asks that i answer or shifting games.

— ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍᴇ !

i am diagnosed with autism + i do have a tendency to just talk a lot about my drs / my partners so i decided that making this page would probably be very beneficial ! please do bear with me if i get slightly over the top about my partners <3

i read a lot, a mix of fanfiction + published books ! some of my favourite fanfiction is berlin angel ( sirius x remus ), art heist baby ( james x regulus ), debt of time + many other fanfiction as well. i love reading so very much + it makes me so very happy ! i love it.

music i love - i love listening to music all of the time, especially billie eilish, noah kahan, gracie abrams, taylor swift, paolo nutini, tate mcrae + folky music !

tv i love - i love watching greys anatomy, criminal minds, casualty, station 19, new amsterdam, a good girls guide to murder, heartbreak high, stranger things + i have many more favourite shows as well. i

movies i love - i love watching anything disney really, school for good + evil, harry potter, jurrasic park, super mario + many others.

— ᴍʏ ᴅʀꜱ !

i shift to many places, i have many desired realities + i am currently in the process of rescripting most of my drs ! i also have many partners as well, all of my romantic relationships are important. i am poly in at least 4 of my drs so far, if you have a problem with that dni.

my current main dr : [ hogwarts professor ! ]

[ a good girls guide to murder ] it happens in the small town of little kilton + we have to figure out what happened to sal. pip is still there, we work together. non canon after book 1. [ art heist baby ] working with regulus & his team to steal and sell paintings from a art gallery outside new york. [ british bake off ] a nine week competition just outside of london, baking and creating food dishes for judges. inspired by a fanfiction. [ better cr ] doing everything that i cannot do in this reality with my online friends + my partner. [ berlin angel ] moving to germany to start a new life, inspired by a fanfiction. follows canon details. [ big hero 6 ] studying at tadashi's university, figuring out his disappearance, non canon details. [ criminal minds ] technical analyst and supervisory special agent at the bau, in quantico. one of the youngest agents there. found family. [ casualty ] moved to the uk to carry on being a doctor in london, with my estranged father, building our relationship. [ debt of time ] time travel fic, golden trio to marauders. [ fame ( screenwriter ) ] filmmaker side of the industry, work with my husband ( actor ) and attend premiers. [ fame #2 / concert ] travelling the world to see concerts, better cr part two. friends with the people performing, having the time of my life. [ golden trio university ] after voldermort, 1999. non canon, healing and self discovery. fred / remus do not die. [ greys anatomy ] training to be a doctor in seattle grace, in merediths class. [ heartbreak high ] student at hartley high, discovering life and finding myself, making friendships. ace + gay. [ iceskating ] basically the plot of icebreaker, competitive iceskater. [ jurrasic park ] after dominion, i work with the dinosaurs and study them as part of my degree to work with them. relatively calm place. [ avengers ] after endgame, tony does not die and steve stays. healing place, avengers are still superheros and viewed as good in society. [ parenthood ] raising kids with my husband, pregnant with our third. spending time with my friends and living my life. [ pixie hallow ] a fairy university, boarding school. 1000 years after the last film, but all the faries are still alive. [ super mario / pokemon] i get the chance to go and study the different kingdoms as part of my degree at nyu. i spend years there, with my cr friend. [ school of good and evil ] teaching animal communication to the evers in the school of good. [ stranger things / hawkins ] after season four. healing place, eddie stays in hawkins [ stardew valley ] plot of stardew valley, just a calm farming place connected to a small village. [ twitch streamer ] streaming content and travelling to different conventions with my dad. making friends with different people and streaming with my friends, annoying my boyfriend. [ small town america ( group shifting ) ] we all live in a town called yapton, living our lives together. we are all happy and it is beautiful. [ small town british ] very similar to other small town, but non groupshifitng and involving the marauders era characters + my fiance.

current main waiting room - [ marauders small town ].

[ farming ] small farm in the middle of nowhere with a little cottage. [ marauders ] set after hogwarts, no death, just calm + no peter. [ movies ] place to watch all my favourite movies and shows for the first time with the person that i love. [ waiting room ] just a place to go, its home to me. im normally alone there.

all my drs allow me to live without any fears of judgement or money. i feel safe in all of my drs + i am also with the people that i love as well.

i also want to shift to a slytherin boys dr. i have a new found obsession with my redacted … so there’s that !

i fear this is a lot longer than i intended, so i will sign off for now. thankyou if you read this far + i cannot wait to talk to yall. if you have any questions, please feel free to ask !

⋆⭒˚.⋆ -- kase ! <33

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

How long has he been away from the kids, assuming he didn't go to Cali between NYC and London?

2 weeks now. My guess is it'll probably be another 1 or 2 weeks before he goes home.

The initial PR said Harry's itinerary was an 8-day trip to NYC and London, so since we know Harry had an evening event in NYC on 9/22, he probably flew out on 9/21. (I feel like there was maybe some CDAN gossip about Harry being in NYC on 9/21, something about Meghan blowing up his phone and Harry spending the night partying.)

So with 9/22 counting as Day 1 of the trip, that places Day 8 on 9/30 - the WellChild Awards - so Harry likely flew straight to London from NYC and was probably expected to return to California after the WellChild Awards.

Sentebale announced Harry was traveling to Lesotho and South Africa on 9/27, and Harry was in Lesotho on 10/1. He traveled immediately after WellChild and it was most likely a private flight since all commercial flights require layovers and are 15+ hours. On 10/3, he was in Johannesburg for a conference.

The Daily Mail confirmed Harry's African trip was to be 4 days long, which put his return flight on either 10/4 or 10/5. My money's on a 10/5 departure since the news that Harry is staying longer in Johannesburg dropped today.

The Daily Express called Harry's Johannesburg/Cape Town extension "an extra few days" and also says "there's also another trip planned which has been blanked out of his diary and he's keen to keep it very private."

Few is generally used to describe 3-4 days so Harry will probably leave South Africa around 10/9 or so, at which point I think he will be on his super top secret private trip. I'm honestly getting military vibes on that secret trip...are there British armed forces still in Afghanistan where Harry can relive his glory days? If it's not Afghanistan, then possibly Israel or Ukraine. Or maybe it's Invictus-related.

Otherwise my guesses are he's going back to the UK or to Australia.

(There was a lot of PR months ago of how desperately Harry wanted to go to Ukraine and be the first UK royal to the front lines - William beat him there - and there was a bit of Sussex PR awhile ago too about their desire to have a fauxyal visit to Australia, around the time that people were speculating about Charles visiting Australia before his visit was confirmed. And since the PR from Harry's travels is positioning him as statesman, it sounds like he might be going someplace thorny to wield his new talent.)

(And then my guess for going back to the UK is basically because of the August PR that he wanted to spend a month in the UK for his birthday and so he can be there when Charles publishes the LP activating the Counsellors of State for his CHGOM/Aussie trip, for which Charles will arrive in Australia on 10/18.)

If my predictions/theories are correct and this top secret very private trip is for immediately after this South Africa "friends and family" private time, then I don't think we'll hear about Harry being back in California (or making plans to travel back to California) until around 10/18 at the latest, which puts him at 4 weeks away from the kids, the longest (publicly) he's been away from his beloved children since 2022 when he was "stuck" in the UK for royal mourning.

As someone snarked on SMM's post, no wonder Harry uses a photo of his kids as his screensaver. He wouldn't know what they look like otherwise because he never spends time with them.

[taraljc]

every time I watch the scenes of SCORPIA training their operatives it's really driven home how much they don't want leaders they want soldiers who will blindly follow orders.

When Alex refuses to shoot the silhouette of a person, everyone tells him he has to get over it. but actual intelligence gathering organisations full of operatives who practice their tradecraft treat any individual as a potential asset.

It makes absolutely zero sense not to try to turn someone instead of just killing them out right.

I think that's why Julia was blindsided by John Rider. And also every single time someone fails in their mad plan to rule the world it's because of ego. Greif, Cray, Julia--even Kellner (Home Secretary), all of them fail because of hubris and ego. And the thing that I actually like about Yassen as an antihero is that you really see that he has zero ego about his work. He knows that he is good at his job and he takes pride in his skill but he feels no need to peacock at all. he has nothing to prove to anyone. he makes decisions and he doesn't second-guess them and that includes deciding to be an incredibly homicidal guardian angel for one Alex Rider for as long as the kid keeps popping up in the middle of SCORPIA missions.

just the look on his face when Damien Cray showed him the footage from the pre-launch and you can see the gears turning as he's trying to play it off his it's a kid don't worry about it no big deal and he's like you can see the little hamster on the wheel trying to figure out if the Department is actually investigating Cray or if Alex has just managed to once again blindly wander directly into an active operation and then he jumps through flaming hoops to make sure Cray doesn't kill the kid at the airfield.

I kind of wonder if Syl was written to be a foil for Yassen specifically. The Rider boys continue the proud tradition of corrupting the next generation of SCORPIA agents by showing them kindness and compassion and basic human decency.

Also the thing that I love the most about series 3 is seeing Kyra and Tom working together to save the day. It is possibly my favourite thing. Tom has gone from how dare you you have stolen my dream (top of the Feathered Serpent leaderboard) and are clearly trying to steal my best mate (not to mention shooting one-handed baskets over and over again in the school gymnasium) to really trusting her and liking her because they both know that the most important person in their life is Alex and that they will both do anything to keep Alex safe.

Kyra has finally internalised the idea that other people can be objectively good. that they can continue to choose to be good no matter how much it infuriates her because she simply cannot wrap her head it not because she's antisocial but because she has never been cherished and cared for this way before. When Tom is trying to explain to her that she and Alex have a thing for each other and she just looks at him like he's doing another stupid Star Wars quote and he just realises that she really doesn't know and instead of teasing her about it just drops it.

However long they've been traveling around the world (and I'm not entirely sure thousands of miles makes any kind of sense Europe's just not that big) they have at least spent their school holiday together without killing each other and that's pretty amazing when you think about it.

I also really hope that Jack and Mrs Jones get to know each other better not because I 'ship them although I am not going to lie I have my moments (I also have extensive headcanon about Ian and Mrs Jones that may or may not ever actually go anywhere.) but I really like the fact that Mrs Jones goes out of her way to go find Jack and be like hey this is a really great time to go on holiday I think you should visit your family as far away from the UK as humanly possible ok bye.

I think Mrs Jones and Jack understand each other and even like each other and are definitely bonded in their mutual desire for Alan Blunt to not be such a dick. and I love that Smithers is also on team our boss is a dick let's protect our teenagers.