#Will's shows up for his mum Princess Diana | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whinlatter · 1 year ago

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I need to know how you think Ginny or Hp characters in general reacted to the death of Princess Diana. She died right before Ginny left for Hogwarts her 6th year. I know wizards aren’t into muggle culture but Lady Di transcends cultural barriers. Plus that trio looking for the queens purse advert is definitely canon.

i did not expect this ask, and i regret to inform you my response to it was to write the following incredibly stupid ficlet about ginny and the death of princess diana. don't ask me why i did this because i don't know!

The last day of August 1997, she comes downstairs in her dressing gown and finds Kingsley in the kitchen with a Muggle newspaper that says that Princess Diana is dead. ‘Car crash,’ he says, pushes the paper across the table. No-one’s shared news of any sort with her in weeks - the only child and non-Order member of the house, at best an irrelevance and at worse a nuisance for the crumbling wartime resistance - so she forgets about the kettle she's just boiled and sits down, snatches up the paper, reads hungrily. High speed car chase, it says, Diana and her boyfriend, in a tunnel in Paris, being chased down by paparazzi. ‘I met her once,’ says Kingsley, musingly, sipping his tea.

She looks up. ‘Really?’

‘Mmm. With the Muggle PM.’

‘What was she like?’

Kingsley thinks about it. ‘Funny,’ he says. ‘But sad.’

She hangs on to the paper. When she’s inevitably ousted from the kitchen by the arrival of yet more Order folk with important business and no trace of interest in her, she takes it up to her room, clears a space on the floor between the maps of the castle she's been memorising and her now dog-eared copy of The Dark Arts Outsmarted and flattens it out on the floor. The Muggle pictures of the princess, of course, don’t move. Yet Diana manages to always be in motion in the photographs, full of life, running and dancing and gallivanting, long legs stretching across roads or dangling off the end of great boats, her speeding across ocean waves on what looks like a water motorbike or down steep snowy slopes on bits of wood with poles in her hands. She's forced to hoist Crookshanks up and out of the way when he tries to paw his way across the pull-out spread of Diana in her wedding dress. 'You used to live with Muggles sometimes, didn't you?’ she demands of a squirming Crookshanks. ‘Show a bit of respect.'

She’d known about the princess before, of course. Hard to avoid her, even among wizards. The Muggleborn girls had started it, tacking up endless pictures of her many outfits on their walls. Their better-blooded peers had followed, and she’d thought even the Slytherins would be unable to deny there was a magic, a magnetism, to Diana, in fabulous dresses one day and the coolest of boyish suits the next, all draped off of her long, lean frame with an effortless elegance that most of the awkward adolescent girls of the castle could only dream of. There was a time, in the run-up to the Yule Ball, when you couldn’t move for pictures of that dress. ‘It’s her revenge dress,’ Lavender had informed her matter-of-factly at dinner, ‘because her husband cheated on her with a married woman he’d been in love with years before.’ An off-the-shoulder slinky black number with the chunky pearl necklace, the dress had been the envy of every witch in the castle. ‘I’d definitely pull Diggory if I had that dress,’ a sixth-year girl had lamented to her mates over the sinks in the fifth-floor girls’ bathroom the next day.

That evening, her own dress from her mother had arrived. She’d sent for it, when Neville had asked her to the ball, bestowing upon her the dubious honour of being the second most pitying girl in all of Gryffindor. It’s an old one of Molly’s from the sixties. She’d always admired it on her mum in old photographs taken before she was hers, worn on nights out and parties from a past life that her mother only hints at, with a twinkle in her eye and a firmly zipped lip. Now, though, the dress looked all wrong - too chaste, too floral, not an ounce of sex appeal about it, throughly unmemorable and unlikely to catch a single eye, fresh-pickled toad-green or otherwise.

(In her bunk that night, she'd lain awake and taunted herself with cruel, self-flagellating fantasy. Imagined striding past the Boy Who Lived wearing that dress, the revenge one, making him regret he’d ever asked Cho Chang to the ball, making him forget all about her shiny hair and her pretty smile and her cool friends and her easy grace, making him notice someone else instead - his best mate’s feral little sister who is funny, actually, just not when he’s around, and whom he last seemed to have thought about when he’d hauled her off her own deathbed, and never since.)

As adolescence wore on, though, she’d soured on Diana. Too chic to be likeable, rich girl with a life of frocks and endless frolicking, intolerably poised and swan-like. The sight of her glimpsed on Muggle newsstand in the village stirred up the same feelings of eye-roll envy as her sister-in-law, which always boded ill. Looking at her now, though, she wonders if there wasn’t something she’d missed, something else to her. Diana’s set jaw looks more guarded than she remembered. The wide eyes ringed by thick smudgy black she’d once thought coquettish now look lost, full of reproach.

Dean’s mum, she remembers now, had loved her. ‘She won’t hear a bad word about her,’ he’d said, rolling his eyes. ‘Says she was the best thing that ever happened to that family.’ Ever her father’s daughter, she’d pestered him with endless questions, like she did all things Muggle: about the divorce, about the royals and succession and the Muggle press and the high drama of it all, until he’d got bored and suggested they go find a broom cupboard, get down to more serious business. Wonders how Dean’s mum must be feeling today. But then she remembers her son is, for all intents and purposes, Muggleborn in a new regime that wants him dead, and suddenly feels slightly sick. She puts the paper away, then, and gets back on with packing up her war room for the morning’s train journey out to the front.

Diana’s sons, the paper said, survive her. They’re called William, and Harry. Good names, in her book. She can't help but think of them as she packs, the boys - children, who woke up one morning to find themselves motherless.

‘It’s mayhem in London,’ says her father, that night, over dinner. ‘There’s hundreds of people outside the palace, leaving flowers and things. I’ve never seen anything like it. There'll be a big public funeral - all the royal family will have to be there, including the boys. They'll have no choice. The Muggles are heartbroken. I dread to think what would happen if there was an attack during that - Kingsley, we ought to talk more about that, actually...'

'Those poor children,' her mother whispers, though that’s nothing new, these days — she whispers that every night.

'Are they still in London?' she asks her dad, quietly, over the washing up. 'At Grimmauld? Have you heard anything?'

'No news, dear. I'd tell you if I knew.'

Lying awake that night with her trunk packed, she wonders if this has all passed them by - her brother and almost-sister and the boy who lived she knows she’s supposed to forget. She imagines them sat the table in that grungy basement kitchen, newspaper spread in front of them. Perhaps they, too, have been poring over Diana's finest outfits, in memoriam. Probably not, though — not with a murder to plot, a Dark Lord to kill, a Tom to hunt. Three child soldiers with a war to win.

Still, the thoughts persist as she tries to fall asleep. Thinks about being hunted, boys without mothers, a city full of mourners. Muggles with their tears and their flowers and their prams at the palace gates. It’s like it's the end of something, something fun and frivolous, dress-up and glamour and girlhood. One day, you're thirteen and looking at princesses in party dresses in the newspaper — and the next, you're sixteen, and the newspapers tell you that the parties are over and the princesses are dead. Something about the tragedy of the thing. The pointlessness, the waste.

artwork: diana and her nymphs hunting by paul de vos (1636)

#fic #writing #ginny weasley #princess diana #tags i did not expect to put together #this is what happens when you are raised by a mother who loves princess diana too much #i actually can’t believe i spent this afternoon writing this #fic rec #hinny

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charcoalgrayswriting · 3 months ago

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I have had a horrible HP OC idea :DD

So the premise is a 6th year Ravenclaw, Elizabeth Clarke, student who's father, Dorian Clarke, works for MI6. It is the beginning of Harry Potters 4th year.

Now stay with me here because; Dorian works for MI6 he already knows about magic, because the Muggle/Magical government sometimes have to work together.

This is technically multifandom but you don't have to know anything about anything other than harry potter

Under the cut is a lot of info I have literally been thinking about this for 6 months. I have issues ;.;

So I headcannon that around the world, lots of other places are much more lax with the statute of secrecy. So when Dorian went and fought in Vietnam he was very violently introduced to magic, on his side and on the side of the Viet Cong.

So when his daughter is born and has magic, he goes to one of his magical coworkers and asks for advice. This coworker just so happens to be Kingsley Shackbolt. So he learns a whole lot about the magical world and gets an insight into magical politics. He also enlists Kingsley to help her with her magic and anything else Eliza may need.

When she was born, her mum, Marie, died in childbirth. This meant Dorian had to take a step back from the field and care for her. But when she is five, he meets her ma'.

Her ma, Nora, is a strong independent Irishwoman who was stuck in an abusive relationship with an armsdealer. In exchange for his death, she informed on him to the government, and that is where Nora and Dorian meet. He was her government contact. When her husband died, and she got a new identity, they kept in contact and fell in love.

She took to Elizabeth like she was her own daughter. The pair married when Elizabeth was eight, two years later. They had twins who are Elizabeth's half siblings, Sloane and William. They were born a year after the marriage when Elizabeth was nine.

During this time, Dorian has become renowned throughout the magical and muggle espionage worlds for his work.

Some of Elizabeths honorary multifandom family include; Alastor Moody (Grandpa Ally), Kingsley Shackbolt (Uncle King), Amelia Bones (Auntie Amy), Henrietta Lange (Granny Hetty), Napoleon Solo (Uncle Leon), Illiya Kuryakin (Uncle Iliusha), Gabby Teller (Auntie Gabby), Harry Hart (Uncle Gal), Hamish Mycroft (Uncle Merlin), James Bond (Uncle Spy), Russell Adler (Uncle Russ), Helen Park (Aunt Helen)

Now onto the actual plot :DD

It starts in book 4 at the quidditch game. I would like it to be from Harry's perspective when he makes it to the top booth and sees the British Minister chatting with the Bulgarian Minister. So she comes into the booth wearing a Princess Diana esque outfit and the Bulgarian Minister is so happy to see her and starts chatting to her in Bulgarian.

Harry can't tell what she's saying but it's clear from her tone of voice she is making fun of the British Minister. No one picks up on this but him. She then introduces herself, and when Malfoy Sr. asks how she knows the Bulgarian Minister she tells him that it's classified lol. The Bulgarian Minister looses his shit with laughter.

(can you tell i dont remember these mens names lol)

Then the games begin and go how they went in cannon. At the end, the Bulgarian Minister convinces Elizabeth to come with him and meet the Bulgarian team.

Then when the Death Eaters attack and everyone runs into the forest they see her, perched in one of the trees with a HK33 assault rifle aimed at the Death Eaters. She is ready to obliterate them if they get too close.

Since she is still a minor, she is not yet allowed to use magic, so she has to make do with one of the guns her father/family taught her to shoot.

When the Death Eaters vanish and the Ministry Officials get there, she is still holding her gun. This is when the POV switches to her and her thought process is something along the lines of her hoping they don't ask to look into her bag so she doesn't have to show them the small arsenal her family gave her.

(Guns in her arsenal 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7)

She defends the trio and tells the ministry to talk to her lawyer, and tells them to fuck off. Then she goes home and promptly tells her father everything. Mysteriously, she is not contacted by the ministry again.

When she goes back to Hogwarts, she already knows about the TriWizzard Tournament. So she isn't shocked. Since her birthday was September 29, 1978 she could put her name in, but she is uninterested.

So when her name is called as the Hogwarts official champion, she is understandably pissed off. Still she goes back with the other champions, and decides to wait for the officials before reaming them out. When Harry Potter comes back and says he is a champion though, she really looses her shit.

Not at him though, at the adults. She starts raging and cursing and demanding to see the rule book. When she does confirm both her and Harry have to compete, she demands to keep a copy of the rule book. She promises Harry all the help she can give him, which prompts the other champions to do the same.

When she gets back to Ravenclaw tower, she stands on a table in the center of the room and makes an announcement. She tells her housemates that she is outsourcing the work of this tournament.

There will be a prize for anyone who can tell her, with proof, who put her name in the goblet, and who can tell her what the challenge is, and the best way to beat the challenge. She may not want this, but she will make the organizers regret not taking her out.

Flitwick gives her a look and she adds that if their schoolwork slips between now and them giving her the advice they would not be getting the prize. Then she goes to bed.

For the next few weeks she is getting intel about the first task, and filters the important bits to Harry and Harmione.

She also takes this time to snag Moody's flask. She's been around him since she was 6, she knew how he acts. And he never drinks around children. So she steals the flask and asks Snape to test it. When he does he finds out it is Polyjuice Potion.

Instantly she goes to the fire and calles Auntie Amy, who assembles some Aurors to go to Hogwarts. Elizabeth leads them to 'Moody's' classroom and they restrain him and find out who he is. After some (lightish) interrogation, BC Jr. gives up the location of Moody. Once he does, she gets him out.

Moody is proud of her, telling her, "I knew you would figure it out." before passing out. He is sent to St. Mungo's for treatment. Because he wasn't held long, he was able to come back and teach within the week.

It is classified, and no one knows about the switch. They just think that Moody got nicer and stopped drinking.

When Rita tries her BS she tells the cockroach "No comment, and if you put anything else in that paper about me I will sue you until you can't even get a job in Knockturn." and Harry follows suit because he knows a good idea when he sees one.

Eliza makes some pointed comments about "A grown woman wanting to go into a broom closet with a little boy isn't a good look now, is it?" and Rita completely backs off.

So on the day of the trial, she is prepared. When Harry draws the hardest dragon, she forces him to switch with her because he is a literal child. Then she goes out there and gets the egg.

When she gets back to the common room she outsources the second trial again with a similar speech.

When she completes the second task, she is furious because they took her muggle ma from her. She nearly kills Dumbledore for allowing this. Thankfully, her ma talks her down, and states that they can just sue instead when this was all over.

Everyone sweatdrops like they're in an anime.

When she learns she has to dance at the ball she is annoyed. When Harry says he has no one to go with, she offers to go with him as friends. They agree and have a good time.

When she finally gets to the maze, she is armed to the teeth. She summons her extendable bag from her dad, who is in the audience. It is filled with enough ammunitions to supply a small army. Once she slaughters her way to the cup, Harry makes it at the same time.

They both agree to grab it, and get transported to the graveyard. Voldemort orders her dead, but when the Killing Curse is shot at her, it only knocks her back. Her fathers old identity disks stopped it. She lays there stunned, waiting for the perfect moment to get up and kill the bastard, take Harry, and run.

Unfortunatly, Moldymort manages to finish the ritual before she gets up. Then he summons the Death Eaters, and she really has to pretend to be dead. Him and Harry duel, and while everyone is distracted, she slowly inches her way towards the Cup.

When she is in position, she lays down covering fire with one of her guns, hitting Death Eaters, and getting Voldemort in the heart. As the Death Eaters return fire and Harry runs towards her, she watches Voldemort stand back up, unhindered by her bullet. The same can not be said for the other Death Eaters who she has shot.

They grab the Cup and are whisked back to the Tournament. She still has her gun out, and doesn't let anyone approach until her dad comes and talks her down. When she tells him about Voldy, he gets quiet and murderous, before turning to Moody, who turns to Dumbledore.

Eliza, her family, and Harry, as well as Snape are ushered into Dumbledores office. When they demand to know why Voldy didn't die, Dumbles talks them in circles. When Eliza gets sick of it and starts shouting, he tells the truth about Horcruxes. Everyone is pissed.

Eliza then tells Harry that he would be staying with her and her family over the break, and he readily accepts. Dumbledore questions Harry's safety, but then Dorian lays out the nonmagical defenses he has set up at their mansion, and Moody chimes in with the magical defenses he set up. Safe to say, the questions about safety are unwarranted after their brief explanation.

Then she goes through the rest of the year like normal, never finding out who put her name in the Goblet of Fire. When she gets off the train, she and Harry walk to her family. There they are greeted with hugs.

Bonuses:

On easter break she goes home and we get to see her interact with her terrifying uncles/aunts/grandparents. Even better if Harry/Ron/Harmione join in and are slightly horrified by how dangerous these people are lol

Eliza and her non-mgaical family play capture the flag but they use real tactics and gear with their paint guns. No magic and it kinda terrifies the magical people.

Napoleon has a bank vault in Gringotts for all his stolen things

Napoleon, Illiya, Hetty, and Harry (Hart) helped her pick out her Yule gown. Her parents are there of course, but they don't have the same passion for fashion that these spies have. They mostly sit there and give confused but supportive thumbs ups.

Merlin and Bond keep giving her new tech to try out at school to see how it interacts with magic.

Gabby and Sloane work on cars together.

Hetty, Nora, Helen, Gabby, and Amelia form a terrifying relationship that scares all men. Eliza and Sloane don't get what's so terrifying about them, and are slowly being indoctrinated by the scary women.

When the DA is made, Eliza finds them in the bar and scolds them for shitty spycraft, before pointing out the man listening in on them. She quickly moves them elsewhere, and becomes one of its core teachers. She teaches weapons, self defense, and espionage.

When they go and storm the Ministry Eliza kills Bellatrix before she can hurt Sirius because she used one of her guns.

When she met the Order of the Phoenix she was completely unimpressed with how they were running things, and taught them how to run a better resistance group. When they tried to shit on her for this, she tells them that her dad literally did this for a living for many years and she knows what she's talking about. She is also unimpressed that they only have one spy.

Eliza in her 7th year steals blood quills and sends them to her parents as proof of the abuse. It is halfway through the year when this happens. She got a detention for snoging George Weasley. Then she does international interviews about how the British Ministry is allowing this to happen, and circumventing Dumbledore. Umbridge is quickly fired. A revolving door of Aurors start teaching DADA.

Eliza roundhose kicks someone in the head and then John Cena elbow drops onto them in her second year because they called her a mudblood. She gets lots of detention but that was the last time anyone tried that, so she saw it as a win. So did her family. After all, in Hetty's wise words to her afterwards, "You can't negotiate with fascist bigots, dear. Better to just kill them instead."

She prefers riding horses to riding brooms (riding a thestral was the highlight of her year) and her ma owns a farm where they ride together because they are the only ones who really enjoy it. (The others will join if Nora asks, but only then).

She is Flitwick's favorite student. He tried to convince her to become a Prefect but she just laughed and told him she would switch schools if he tried to do that to her. (She was not joking and he knew it).

Maybe, her mum was not who she seemed to be, and knew more about magic than she let on...

Anyway I'm all done for now and congrats if you read through all'at

Will probably add to this if I have anymore ideas

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saintmeghanmarkle · 3 months ago

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An Oprah TV confessional interview - a theory for redemption and rebuilding by u/NigerianChickenLegs

An Oprah TV confessional interview - a theory for redemption and rebuilding Who agrees that the Harkles are all out of options? I don't believe divorce will happen soon because they are too co-dependent and addicted to drama. Some of us have speculated/predicted that the only remaining path forward would involve 50% of the despicable duo going to rehab followed by an "organic and authentic" confessional interview with Auntie Oprah.Mind you, this is just a theory - and it's meant as satire. Malibu rehab centerOf course Meghan would NEVER go to rehab. The tragic tale would be told "through the lens" of her struggles with a former veteran and spouse's addiction, grief, and trauma. Harold would say "Meghan meditated while holding my mum's lock of hair and my Mum - you know, Oprah, she was Princess Diana - told Meghan that her mission was to save me from myself." As a former PR professional, I could easily imagine a scenario like this.\"Meg is so right- she is very intelligent and I am so lucky to have her.\" Imagine the TV interview set: in a softly lighted room with quietly luxurious beige and cream furniture, we would see a freshly wigged, Botox'd, and slightly teary-eyed Meghan gently clawing H's hand. After Harold asks Meghan why they are doing another interview with Auntie O, Meghan reminds Harry he is only allowed to share his comment about his Mummy and to let her do the talking. At first, he looks down at his scuffed and battered shoes as Meghan dominates with tales of how they HAD to leave the UK because Harold was so traumatized by the BRF and the British media."As a Mom" she would admit to making "a few" unfortunate choices "due to really bad advice from our Archewell staff." She would emphasize that she was working SO HARD, yet no one ever appreciated her sacrifice as she supported Harry, parented the children, dealt with the "nasty gossip," her toxic family, the mean BRF, and tried SO HARD to manage business projects while trying to hold it all together. Cue the tears.https://ift.tt/zXbSe2v would describe her "shock" that "Waity Katie" - "you know, that's what the media called her" - was getting so much attention for "just" having cancer while she, the much more experienced and "whip smart" Duchess of Sussex, was nearly collapsing under the weight of her service and duties As A Mom, As A Wife of An Addict, As A VIP, and As A Duchess. And it didn't help when certain celebrity neighbors ridiculed and rebuffed Meghan when she was desperately reaching out for support. Oprah would cluck sympathetically.Oprah: Clucking sympathetically while counting the money.This could provide a neat and tidy explanation (and clapback!) for the many, many Harkle screw ups, the wrinkled and inappropriate clothing, business failures, and lack of friends. As The Most Bullied Woman in the World Meghan would describe how "isolated" she felt and thank a friend or two (Kelly? Ellen? The rescue chickens?) for standing by her.She would explain how the duo plans to champion addiction as their cause du jour, produce a realty show and/or other content about couples struggling with addiction, Veterans affected by addiction, the impact of uncaring families, mean celebrities, etc. And there would be worldwide broadcast of a non-spectacle vows renewal followed by a move back to the UK to "forgive, repair, and rebuild." If the BRF did not accept the Harkles, they would be at fault for not supporting Harold's healing.Thoughts?\Note: my post is purely fiction and based entirely on my wild imagination. I am not suggesting that any of the events depicted here are true, have happened, or will ever happen..* post link: https://ift.tt/psZ8A7R author: NigerianChickenLegs submitted: October 24, 2024 at 07:18PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

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what-if-queen-camilla · 1 year ago

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Chapter 42

That was a tough one to write. I hope you'll like it... and do take part in the poll! :-)

06th September 1997

Of course, Thea had agreed to go to the funeral with her aunt and cousins and so Camilla had taken her to London the next day, where they'd stay at her parents' Kensington flat until after the funeral was over, to get an appropriate outfit for Thea's first big public appearance. It still made Camilla feel uncomfortable that, out of all possible occasions, it had to be Diana's funeral and that she couldn't be by her side, but she trusted that her sweet little angel was going to do brilliantly. Still, it'd have been much nicer and easier if they'd just taken her to Royal Ascot or the Sandringham Flower Show next summer… So they went to Harrods and picked an elegant, yet unobtrusive, knee-length black dress with a matching coat for her. As a headpiece, they’d chosen an equally elegant yet unobtrusive, simple black headband as Camilla considered her a bit too young and her position too controversial to raise more attention towards herself than necessary by wearing something "fancy", she was well aware that all eyes would be on her and that, whatever she was wearing, people would undoubtedly scrutinise every step she'd take so Thea's outfit had to be perfect. She had also instructed her to always stay behind her cousins and next to Sarah, and always do everything Sarah did in exactly the same way in order to stay as inconspicuous as possible, only speak when somebody directly asked her something and always keep her eyes lowered, fixed on the ground, and somehow it had broken her heart that she had to say this. Nobody wanted to be invisible and usually she always tried to encourage her little girl and boost her confidence but this was different. At least a spokesman for Charles and his sons had issued a statement explaining that, at the express request of Their Royal Highnesses Princes William and Harry, their half-sister Miss Theodora Parker Bowles would attend the funeral of the late Diana, Princess of Wales. Of course, as expected, it had caused controversy but Camilla had been glad that at least the public had been "warned" that way; she didn't even want to imagine what a bombshell it'd have been, had they only got to know at the very moment.

Sarah came over to pick up Thea early in the morning. She’d take her to Buckingham Palace, where apparently the whole family would be gathering together before the procession to Westminster Abbey would begin. That was going to be the hardest part for them all and the part Camilla was most afraid of. Her poor little darling had to stand outside Buckingham Palace, surrounded by the whole Windsor Clan, once Diana's coffin, followed by Charles, William, Harry and also the Duke of Edinburgh, would proceed past. The mere imagination of that scenario gave her goosebumps and the thought of her daughter having to go through this all by herself, without her by her side, while the entire planet was watching had caused her a complete sleepless night. Hopefully it wouldn't be too traumatising for Thea, hopefully the others would be kind, hopefully Charles and the boys would be okay…

Before Sarah and Thea left, Camilla hugged her tightly and kissed her so affectionately that it almost scared Thea. "Mum, please. It's only for a few hours.", she said, probably not aware of the real meaning of it all, which was probably even best. "Yes, darling. I'll be thinking of you all day and when you come back later, we'll have a cosy evening, just the two of us." Camilla promised, pressing one last kiss on her daughter's cheek, and eventually waved them goodbye.

She watched them getting into the car out of the kitchen window and burst into tears as the black Audi took off. She was so worried, and it killed her that there was nothing she could do to help. How on earth was she supposed to get through this awful day? Before she could have thought about it any further, the doorbell rang and she quickly dried her tears before rushing to the entrance hall and welcoming… “Andrew?" She hadn't been expecting anybody in particular but out of everybody she knew, her ex-husband was the last one she'd expected to show up. "I thought you might like to have a bit of company today…", he said, looking almost as worried as she herself. Though Thea was not his biological child, he had never stopped caring for and loving her like a father should. She still adored him and still went over for weekends every now and then. He still was, and would always be, her daddy as well and somehow, Camilla was pleased to see him and very touched by his thoughtful reaction. "Thank you, Andy.", she said, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek, motioning for him to follow her inside.

Buckingham Palace

Despite the sad nature of the occasion and her undeniable nervousness and fear, little Theodora was quite impressed when she entered Buckingham Palace together with the Duchess of York. She had never been here before and it was magnificent. She'd very much have liked to enjoy a look around but somehow felt that it wasn't the day for it; Mummy had told her a thousand times that she absolutely had to follow Sarah's instructions, only speak when she was directly asked and keep her eyes lowered down on the floor. The Queen and members of the family had gathered in one of the reception rooms on the ground floor and while Thea was relieved that she didn't spot the Duke of Edinburgh anywhere, she was still looking out for her father and brothers. "They're not here, little one.", Sarah explained. "They will join the procession from the West Wing* and are already waiting there. We'll go outside any minute as well and watch them from the front gates. We have to send them all our love and support, will you do that?", Sarah asked and Thea nodded, when suddenly, much to her relief, Beatrice and Eugenie came over to say hello to their mother and cousin which made her feel less alone. She had also spotted The Queen and Princess Anne in a corner of the room but they didn't seem to have noticed her, and to her disappointment, Great-Granny was nowhere to be seen either. "She will only be at the service.", Sarah explained, and suddenly a bit of a rush occurred and Sarah reached out for her and Eugenie's hand, motioning for Beatrice to walk with Thea as well. "Come on, girls. Off we go.", she said and the four of them followed The Queen and the others through some corridors and eventually outside of the Palace.

"Dear God, look at the crowds!", Camilla sighed as the camera showed an especially impressive view of the thousands of people who had gathered around Buckingham Palace and The Mall to say their last farewell to their beloved Princess. "It's crazy.", Andrew replied. "It's busier than in 1981." He had to know. He'd been there, taking part in the procession at Charles and Diana's wedding. The camera moved to the front gate and the commentator described the scenes: “The Queen, Princess Margaret and other members of the Royal Family… standing outside Buckingham Palace…”, followed by a dramatic zoom out, featuring all of them in one picture. “There she is!”, Andrew exclaimed as they spotted their little girl, right behind her cousins Beatrice and Eugenie, just as Camilla had instructed her over and over again. It broke her heart to see her poor little darling standing there all on her own, but at the same time filled her with immense pride. Of course, she was only ten, but she already looked so beautiful and dignified and was doing so well. The camera moved over to the procession that had meanwhile reached the West Wing of Buckingham Palace, and eventually captured Charles, William, Harry, the Duke of Edinburgh and Earl Spencer, who were all going to join in and walk behind the coffin in a minute. Camilla couldn’t hold back her tears any longer as she saw her love’s and his son’s pain in their eyes… What an awfully hard and sad journey it had to be, and how much she wishes she could be there with them, be there for them. Andrew gently took her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “She’ll be fine, Milla.”, he said, and just like that, the camera once again, moved over to the royal party gathering at the front gate, just in time for them to witness a rather heartwarming scene between Thea and her Uncle Edward, who was obviously whispering something to her, following which she hesitantly made her way to the front row, right between her two cousins. Before Camilla had the chance to worry any further, the procession reached the main entrance of Buckingham Palace and both mourning sons, William and Harry, turned their heads towards their family and Camilla felt like her heart stopped beating as she, along with the majority of the world’s population, watched Thea blowing a loving kiss to her heartbroken brothers…

*in reality, they only joined the procession from St James's Palace but I really wanted to have this special sibling moment.

#king charles #queen camilla #fanfic #royal family #fanfiction #royal baby #andrew parker bowles #queen mother #prince william #queen elizabeth ii #duchess of york #princess margaret

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dianamcvries · 4 months ago

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(Scarlett Johansson) [THE PUZZLE]. Please welcome [DIANA MCVRIES (SHE/HER)] to Huntsville, WV. They are an [39]-year-old [VISITOR] who lives in [TOWN]. You may see them around working as a [5TH GRADE TEACHER AT HUNTSVILLE ELEMENTARY]. They are looking for [ARCHIBALD & VIOLET MCVRIES] their [SIBLINGS]. Poor unfortunate soul. We’ll see if they survive.

diana mae mcvries - named after princess diana and mae west. her parents continued the trend of old hollywood actor names for their children.

parents met on a movie set in hollywood. mum was the director's daughter and dad was the lead - sparks flew and over the years they had five kids - archibald, diana, violet, (wc) & evelyn

family fame was relentless and the family moved to her fathers hometown of oxfordshire. diana never enjoyed fame, she found the whole thing isolating and moving to oxfordshire was another consequence of fame and suddenly they were all back to los angeles after her dad booked a role - the constant upheaval of her life was something she always argued against, begging for stability.

she started to resent being in the spotlight and opted to say in the background and become the recluse of the mcvries family.

eventually her mother caught her father in an affair with one of his costars. her mother never recovered from it and her mental health declined. diana received a call one day when she was 14 to tell her that her mother had taken her own life and art had found her. she went into crisis mode to protect her siblings and also organise as much as she could to allow her family to grieve.

every since her mothers passing, diana and her father were at loggerheads. it was war. she blamed him for everything that happened and he refused to take accountability for his affair - one that she was sure wasn't the first time from him.

despite the fighting with her father, she focused on her siblings and made sure they weren't caught in the crossfire. the mcvries siblings were close and they were the most valuable and treasured people in diana's life.

wasn't a fan of art & violet's partners - to put it politely

avoiding fame had diana turning to teaching. she loves her job.

took on a bit of a mom role with her siblings whenever they needed something.

fiercely protective of her siblings, would do anything for them - including murder but we don’t need to talk about that. very protective of her siblings.

a sensible sibling who is only the sensible sibling by default.

out of all the mcvries kids, diana is the logical, hard one but encouraged her siblings to do whatever they dreamed of doing.

was there when her dad died, they both fought to have the last word to slight the other. she won.

knew something was wrong when art went ghost hunting and didn't keep in contact or show up back home. then all hell broke loose when violet disappeared. diana made it her life's mission to find her siblings.

on her hunt for her siblings, she found art's research about huntsville, she thought she'd try the town to see if art maybe had decided to set up in town and stay - she wasn't that far off

5th grade teacher in huntsville elementary

staying in town

#dianaheadcanon

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princessmadafu · 2 years ago

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Eagerly awaiting Spare 2: The Chamber Pot of Secrets

Now that the media furore has died down a bit and we've all had time to think, what can we say about the Spare?

Well, first of all, I'd say Harry has been set up.

Again.

And he's too dim to see it, because he's being told (by someone in particular and probably a few other hangers-on as well) that "his truth" is important. And he believes it. Harry's "truth" has been filtered by money-grubbing bottom-feeders, and now H prefers to believe that "their truth" is "his truth"; that they love him more than anyone else; and they know what's best for him.

So:

(1) Harry can't distinguish his truth from reality. We've known this for a while, but so many new *facts* coming out... it's really taking the pee-pee. "Harry's Truth" isn't the same as facts. A fact is a piece of information that can be proven to be true; it stands up to rigorous scrutiny, especially by rigorous professional fact-checkers, who quickly noted that bit about the XBox, of which I freely admit I know nothing, but even I managed to check it out on the internet in about ten seconds. Did nobody fact-check Spare? Oooh, apparently not. Why not? And King Henry VI... And the Queen Mum's death... and the rest of it. Which leads us on to:

(2) Harry took (and is possibly still taking) Class A drugs and assorted forms of happy-juice, even to the point of stoking himself up on the wife's gas as she prepared for labour, which is despicable. He's such a feminist he took her meds for her!!! A**hole. I gave birth three times (homebirths, without meds; Princess Madafu wasn't around at the time so I did the painful "manly" work of squeezing babies out of my bum all by myself...) and I just want to deck Harold for interfering with his wife's meds. But drug use messes up your brain, Harry. So do grubby compliant therapists, by the way, who are rubbing their hands in glee at all the $$$ you hand over - they're on to a good deal and it's not in their financial interests to sort you out by Month 6 of Therapy when they can trick you into Year 6 of Therapy... or Year 16... or Year 26...

(3) He's envious of William and Catherine. This shines through. His older brother married the love of his life, a woman who has devoted herself to her man and the RF and between them they've produced three gorgeous well-grounded little ones and a firm base on which to take the RF forward. The Prince and Princess of Wales have learned from the mistakes of the unfortunate previous generation of royals, whereas Harry is now an "Oh dear" in the footnotes of the monarchy. And this leads us on to:

(4) Harry has no respect for Charles and Camilla. The Queen Consort is and always has been Charles's lighthouse and security from the storms of public life. Charles should never have been pushed into marrying the naive teenager Diana, but that's how it was back then - that's how history works! Charles was expected to marry a blushing virgin bride he hardly knew. Harry, aren't you glad you were allowed to marry a several-times-up-the-maypole divorcee? You learn from history, right, so that you don't repeat the same mistakes. Of course that involves being aware of history, which Harold isn't; he's only aware of how time healed his frostbitten todger and saved it for someone who could use it to her advantage. Over-sharing, Harry! Please shut up! Nobody wants to know! And then there's:

(5) Harry has no respect for the British Public. Or the Commonwealth. Or the army. Even enemy soldiers have families; mothers, fathers, wives, children - they are not chess pieces to be removed. Personal remembrance: my Gt-grandma's brother was KIA in 1916; my Gt-grandad served in the same war but never spoke about it; my Grandad served in WW2, never spoke about it - he showed me his medals, once. Once. Once only. The only things I remember him saying about the war were the "safe" bits - that he spent some of it in Canada training Canadian troops and got to see Niagara Falls, and mailed all his chocolate rations back to his wife and infant son. My late brother in law served in the Coldstream Guards, never spoke a word about how many men he'd had to shoot; he took all that to his early and leg-amputated death. What happens in the army stays in the army, Harold; it's not for personal validation.

(6) He hates the British Media. Supposedly because his mother was killed by paps (in France; not British paps) when the world knows she died because she wasn't wearing a seat-belt in a car that crashed at speed driven by a DUI driver. Oh and he also hates the British Media because Meghan is Diana.2 and... wait, what? No she isn't. She wants him to believe she's Diana.2. If it's not drugs doing his head in it's Megadiana. How many paps have tried to run Catherine off the road in a tunnel in Paris? How many paps have tried to take topless pictures of her - ooh, there was one, but it wasn't in Britain, I'm pretty sure it was in France and the magazine was sued for it, so not in Britain then. Not British Media. Not British paps. And let's not forget that Diana was more than capable of manipulating the pap shoots she wanted... remind you of anybody?

(7) He still has mummy issues, decades later. This is just not normal for a grown man. I'm sure Harry loathes being compared to his brother but what the heck, I'm going for it! Two young boys, both suffering from the untimely loss of their mother. Yet William doesn't have mummy issues, or at least if he does he doesn't hang them out to dry for a voracious public airing. It's no good saying that Harry is more sensitive, he's not - he just hasn't grown up, and those around him are keeping him trapped in the net of mummy issues instead of allowing him to mature into the adult he should be; he's not the man he thinks he has become. And I still keep coming back to why, so let's move on to:

(8) His therapy isn't working and he needs a proper psych evaluation. The people he thinks are helping him just aren't. They are milking him for the cash cow that he has become. The RF and whatever PR they use appear to have done everything to protect Young Harry from this, right down to convincing us that he was a high-spirited Jack-the-Lad, fond of a little tipple but devoted to his country and the army veterans he served alongside. Take away the RF and the carefully scrutinising PR machine, and he is ripe for the plucking. And boy, is he being plucked. Every last feather.

Now this next one is a bother:

(9) He can't see his own hypocrisy, has zero empathy for anyone, and cannot see how "his truth" - his own words - can damage others. Others including his own mother, his father and step-mother, his wider family, his army colleagues, the wider British public who are all a bunch of racists, apparently. Harry has a lot of short-comings. No doubt there'll be "Spare 2: The Chamber of Secrets" and he'll blame his short-comings on his frozen todger, but the lack of self-awareness is pathetic. He cannot see his own failings, refuses to take responsibility for his own actions, and blames everyone else. So what can we say? Is he really so stupid? Or is he in some sort of "Cult-Of-Himself" delusion, promulgated by his Feather Pluckers?

(10) The awful wife wears Harry's man-bits and is conspicuous by her absence, as she journals and squirrels away evidence for her divorce lawyers. Yep, I think we're all agreed on that one!

My personal opinions only, as they say in reputable circles.

Love and peace.

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apinchofm · 3 years ago

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Fluff prompt:

Like 5 year old Rebecca insuring Baldwin having tea parties with her and he uses it as a way to teach her like diplomacy and military tactics and Diana’s like are you teaching my 5 year old military tactics.

I can’t remember if I’ve seen something similar to this or if I just thought I did

No because this would be so funny!

Diana knows Baldwin is spending time with Rebecca. First he has a tea party with her and then he reads with Pip.

"So always remember...?" He asked her.

"Never show your hand!" Rebecca enthusiastically finishing and the two gently clink their cups against each other.

"Hello, what's happening here?" Diana asks, kissing Becca who hugs her mum.

"We're having a princess tea party," Baldwin explained, and Diana tried not to take a picture of him in a crown too small and a feather boa from her dress up box.

"I'm Princess Catherine of Ara- Aragon," Rebecca says, proud

"That explains you going through battle tactics." Diana realised.

"A young woman is never too young to learn how to conduct a battle. It is why my daughter is successful." Baldwin stated.

"I want my children as normal as possible, not waging the War of the Roses." Diana replied

"Battle of Flodden, but I understand your point." Baldwin said, then checked his watch, "It's reading time with Pip. Mummy will play with you now." He removed his crown and kissed her on the top of her head.

"Wait, what are you reading Pip?" Diana asked.

"Ah, yes. Finishing Cicero. Philip is quiet but he's always thinking. Cicero will do him well. Next week, we'll start the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. " And he was off to his nephew's room whilst Diana questions the family she's married into.

#adow fic #diana bishop #baldwin montclair #fluff

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harrylilies · 4 years ago

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The Royal Series | Pt. VIII

The Royal Series Masterlist

"Come on, Henry!" You laughed at your brother, wrapping the scarf you got him around his neck. "It's your best picture!" The green and red scarf had a picture of him fighting a pap in 2004 all over it, ready to be worn.

"You were only 10 when this happened, how did you even remember this?" He laughed, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and squeezing you to his chest.

"Brings out the colour in your eyes." Will said, helping Charlotte off of his lap and letting her run towards you.

"Think you should wear my gift to your boyfriend's family meeting." Harry joked, letting you go.

You rolled your eyes, scooping Charlotte in your arms. "Did you see Granny's face when I opened the gift?"

Harry mimicked, making everyone in William's drawing room laugh. "Admit it, it's a nice sweatshirt."

"The best thing to wear to a first family meeting; Harry Styles have my babies. Excellent choice." You said sarcastically, swaying Charlotte gently in your place.

"Teetee, did you like my present?" Charlotte asked enthusiastically, wrapping her arms around your neck.

"I loved it! I'm putting that picture frame beside me, on my bedside table. So every morning when I wake up and every night before I sleep, I see you and your brother. It's the best to wake up and sleep to, Charlie." You smiled, pressing a kiss to her cheek, "Also, our little squish here wrote me a very nice letter." You nodded towards Kate's baby bump.

Spending more time with your family doing nothing but laughing, teasing one another, and reminiscing the days when you were all younger, it wasn’t long before you were putting on your coat and ready to leave.

"Do you have to go?" Charlotte whined, frowning as she looked at you.

You cooed, "Aw, none of that now, Charlie. I'll be back before you know it."

"Yeah, Charl, Teetee will only be gone for a few days before she comes back." Kate said, standing beside you as she assured her daughter, "We don't want Y/N leaving with us crying and her getting sad, do we?"

Charlotte nodded before letting out a dramatic sigh, "Okay."

"Now, I really have to go. Want to help me get my bags?" To which Charlotte nodded eagerly to, making you grin, "Where's your brother? Where's Georgie?"

"I think he's in his room." Will said, standing up.

"Let's go get him, Charlie. Let old Daddy sit, wouldn't want him hurting his back." You said teasingly as you walked past your brother, hearing everyone behind you snickering.

"Hey! Don't tell my daughter that!" Will joked, making you wave him off.

Reaching George's room, you let Charlotte knock before you heard him give you a "Come in!"

You opened the door gently, peaking yours and Charlotte's head inside to see George sitting on his floor, playing with the train toy set you had gotten him. His head snapped towards you, a grin instantly drawn to his face as he stood up and sped towards you, hugging your legs. "Auntie, you're still here!"

"I am, baby, but I wanted to ask you if you want to join me and Charlie and help me with my suitcases?" You stroked his scalp gently.

"Yes, of course! I'll get my train." He said before walking back to his previous spot, taking one red train before walking beside you, holding your hand.

George opened the door to your room, going inside and climbing up the bed till he sat, his feet dangling and swaying as he made train noises and flew his toy in the air. You sat Charlotte beside him, giving her the small piano toy she had left in your room the previous day, before unlocking your phone, finding 3 missed calls from Harry.

"Shit," you cursed under your breath, turning your phone slightly to find that it was silenced.

You instantly called him back, balancing the phone between your ear and shoulder blade as you opened your plain blue suitcase, double checking that nothing was missing before checking your duffel bag, too.

"I thought you got cold feet." Harry said as soon as he picked up, followed by a heartfelt laugh.

You smiled to yourself, taking your red sweater in your hand, "No, no. My phone's mute button was probably pushed by accident. Is something wrong?"

"No, love. I just wanted to make sure that you're," he cleared his throat, "You know, still coming."

"I am, H. I'm about to leave," you assured him before chuckling, "They still don't believe you?"

"They don't. Even showed them a couple of pictures but they told me that my fans make insane photoshopped pictures. I’m starting to feel very offended."

You laughed, zipping your suitcase. "Good thing I'm spending New Year's with you then, huh?"

"The best. Still sure about that? Wouldn't your family have your head?" He asked. "One, I'm sure. Two, told you it's me who decides. Now," you held your phone with your hand, "I have to go get dressed. I'll text you when I'm near, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. I'm waiting for you. Take care, yeah?"

"Always do. Bye, baby." And so, it slipped from your mouth, making your eyes widen and your other hand to cover your mouth.

The pet name didn't seem to go unnoticed by Harry as he giggled quietly into the phone, giving you an eager "bye!" and a kissy noise before hanging up.

"I'm going to go change, I'll be right back." You informed your niece and nephew who only nodded at you, too engrossed in their toys.

With the car door open wide for you, you bent down, hugging George and Charlotte close to your chest, kissing their temples. "Be good for Mummy and Daddy, will you?"

"Yes, Teetee." They both replied, their arms on you.

"Come on, give me a kiss." You smiled, patting your cheeks for them to which they giggled at, leaning forward and planting loving kisses on your cheeks. "I love you."

"Love you, Teetee!"

Getting into the car and blowing everyone a kiss, you nodded at your driver who stood by the driver's door side. "Don't worry, Ben. I’ll be careful." You smiled, "You spend some time with your family."

"I did actually spend a wonderful time with my wife and the kids." He smiled, closing the door after you got in and put on your seatbelt before you put down your window.

"Oh! Did they like my presents? I certainly hope they did. Although I'm not so sure about the sizes, I just picked the ones suitable for your daughters' and wife's ages." You chuckled, looking up at him.

"They loved it, Your Highness! And the sweaters fit them just right. Lilly especially wanted me to thank you and invite you for a tea party." Ben chuckled humorously as he referred to his youngest daughter, only being 5.

You grinned, perking up. "I love tea parties! I'd gladly come if you'd let me."

Ben laughed in delight, nodding eagerly. "Of course we would! You're welcomed to visit anytime, Your Highness."

You smiled, starting the car before waving at him before you drove off, already feeling the nervous butterflies in your stomach at the thought of meeting Harry's family after a 3-hour drive.

Meanwhile, Harry sat on his mother's sofa, laughing at Gemma's embarrassing stories that Anne was telling Michal, Gemma's boyfriend, laughing at his sister's sour face.

"Oh, come on. At least I'm not as delusional as Harold here, says he's with HRH Princess Y/N." Gemma snickered.

Harry groaned, dropping his head low in defeat. "She's coming in a few hours."

"Oh dear, I have to move the pebbles for when the horses arrive on our doorstep." Anne joked.

"She doesn't move in coaches, Mum." Harry laughed.

"Probably wings." Gemma joked, motioning with her arms to wings, making Harry throw a cushion on her.

"Stop it, Gemma. Stop making fun of your brother," Anne said, standing up and taking two of the many empty glasses on the table which belonged to some of Harry's family whom were in their presence but left, "I raised you both to never make fun of troubled people." She giggled, speeding off to the kitchen.

"Hey, why are you doubting him? Harry's pretty big and known." Michal defended him, looking at Gemma.

Gratefully, Harry made prayer hands as he closed his eyes, mouthing "Thank you" to him.

"I'm not belittling him but," Gemma began, "This 23-year-old woman, one of the most beautiful, whose father is Prince Charles and mother is Princess Diana and her grandmother is the fucking Queen and was raised and continues to live in the monarchy is pretty big, too."

"You always believed me when I told you about my girlfriends." Harry gave her a side eye, raising his eyebrows.

"Because you dated what we now call ordinary people, T Swift, Kendall Jenner. If a colleague of mine told me that they were dating them I'd believe them," she stood up, taking a couple of glasses before following Anne to the kitchen. "Better start cleaning before Her Highness arrives.”

Harry rolled his eyes, looking at Michal. "At least you believe me."

Michal chuckled, standing up as him and Harry started helping Anne and Gemma with the remains of the Christmas get-together they threw.

"It told me to make a left, so I did." You said, glancing at your phone in its holder before looking at your surroundings. "Alright wait, I'm coming outside." Harry said through the speaker, the sound of some shuffling around being heard next.

"Are you wearing a green jumper?" You asked, squinting your eyes to get a better look at the figure in front of you.

"Yes! Is that you in the black ca-Oh, hi." He giggled as you drove closer to him, finally getting a clearer view. "Bye bye." He eagerly said before hanging up, watching you park in front of him.

You grinned as you rolled your window up and took your keys and phone, Harry opening your door for you.

The moment you got out, Harry wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you chest-to-chest closer. "You look very cuddly right now," he whispered, kissing your hair. "You always look cuddly now that I think about it."

You laughed, putting your hands on his chest and looking up at him. "I got some nice cocoa powder for hot chocolate. It's the best you'll ever have."

"I think we have marshmallows." He nodded. "Where are my manners?" Harry asked himself. Smiling as he leaned down, he pressed his lips to yours. Your leaned back on your car, smiling into the kiss as your hands moved to his jaw.

"They still don't believe you?" You asked as you took your breath, glancing back at his house before looking at him.

Harry rolled his eyes, "They teased me enough."

You tried not to laugh, though did a terrible job at it, before patting his chest, "Come on then. Let's meet them." You got out of his grasp and towards your boot. Right as you were about to take your suitcase, Harry beat you to it, taking it out, draping your duffel bag on his shoulder before closing the boot.

"I can take it." You said as he rolled your suitcase in one hand, the other holding yours.

"So can I. Come on." You both walked towards his open door, you smiling sheepishly as you tried not to look around.

"It's quiet." You whispered as Harry put your suitcase and duffel bag beside the door after kicking it close.

He chuckled, "They're in the back."

"I got presents." You whispered again, "Oh shit, I forgot to take them from the backseat." You opened the door, practically jogging towards your car before Harry followed you, grinning as he saw you take out neatly wrapped medium sized boxes in glistening and vibrant Christmas wrapping. "I trust you with the sizes you gave me."

"You got Mum that dress you showed me?" He asked, helping you and taking two boxes, leaving you with one which had a card on top of it with your neat handwriting that said “Merry Christmas, Michal!”

You nodded, humming. "And got Gemma the striped suit and the golf watch for Michal. Is that all alright?"

"Baby, I told you that you don't even have to get anything." Harry chuckled, bumping his hip with yours.

"It's Christmas, H. Everyone deserves nice presents." You smiled.

"Let's put these under the tree." Harry said, raising his eyebrows upwards as you both walked inside. Instantly smiling at the cosy aura the place had, your eyes fell on the twinkling Christmas tree by the window. You put the box under it, waiting as Harry put the other two there.

"And your gift is in my suitcase." You giggled, looking up at him.

"Yours is in my room." He replied with a dimpled grin, "Come on."

With his hand on your waist, you both walked towards the kitchen where you heard chatter and clinking, making you look at Harry, giving him a nervous smile. "Oh God." You whispered to yourself, huffing out before putting a strand of your hair behind your ear, your fingers lacing together in front of you, sheepishly.

Harry gave you a quick peck on the cheek before walking inside the kitchen, clearing his throat to catch his family's attention.

You could almost hear a pin drop. All of their jaws dropped, faces going tint red, looking intently at the new addition. You looked up at Harry for a second before looking back at the ones in front of you. "Hi, I'm Y/N."

"What the fuck?" Gemma was the first to speak, Harry cringing as he squeezed your waist slightly. Gemma's eyes caught her brother's, who widened his green eyes at her before she cleared her throat, drying her hands in the yellow towel on her shoulder before putting it on the chair. "Do I-Do I curtsy?"

"God, please don't," You laughed, moving forward and naturally wrapping your arms around her in a brief hug. "You look a lot like Harry. It's insane."

Still at a loss of words, Gemma awkwardly hugged back, looking at Harry from over your shoulder as he smirked at her, cocking an eyebrow. "You look like-" She cleared her throat, "Like how I see you on the telly."

You chuckled, pulling away, "I'm hoping that's a good thing?"

"Yeah, of course. Of course, it is."

"Excuse my daughter," Anne spoke, moving forward and approaching you with a wide, loving smile. "I'm Anne."

You and Anne hugged, her rubbing your back soothingly as she did. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Good things?" She asked jokingly as you both pulled away.

"The best." You nodded in confirmation.

"It's so nice to meet you." Michal said, leaning down and giving you a greeting hug before looking at Gemma, "Guess your brother isn't so delusional after all, huh?"

"Shut up." She said under her breath, covering her face.

"Let's take this to the living room, shall we?" Anne grinned enthusiastically.

"They're starstruck." Harry leaned down, whispering in your ear.

"I'm more of in awe that I'm meeting them." You giggled, holding his hand that was draped from your shoulder.

"Who got-Oh God, did you-" Anne gasped, looking back at you from the tree.

"It's Christmas. It's also a thank you for making me spend New Year's with you." You smiled warmly, feeling yourself get hotter, “I hope that’s okay.”

"Did I just get a present from the Princess of the United Kingdom?" Gemma asked her boyfriend quietly who tried to stifle his laughter and not burst out laughing before his face fell, looking at one box under the tree, "Yup. She got you one, too."

"I read online that's she's known in the royal family to get the funniest Christmas gifts." He whispered back.

They couple both shared a look before looking at you, laughing at something Anne said. "We did make fun of our Harry, honestly. Sorry, darling."

"I felt very offended, thank you very much." Harry put his hand on his heart dramatically before looking at you, "How was your drive here?"

"Very nice and quiet. That intersection you told me about saved me a lot of time." You pointed at Harry.

"No offense, sweetheart but what do we call you?" Anne asked warmly, “We have never really interacted with someone from the royal family this close before, excuse us.”

"Please, don’t worry. Just Y/N would be great."

"And please call me Anne," Anne pointed at herself, "Oh where are my manners? Are you hungry, sweetheart? We had nice turkey and mashed potatoes."

"Mum makes incredible turkey." Harry said from beside you on the sofa, his hand on your knee.

"Thank you so much, Anne, but I think I'm so full. I managed to get myself pizza on the way.”

“How many slices did you have? You can’t be that full, love.” Harry asked.

“Got a large and finished it all actually,” you shrugged, “But actually, I got us some fine cocoa powder if you fancy a nice hot cocoa cuppa. It's homemade." You grinned, standing up to walk towards your suitcase, "Actually if you don't mind, I can make them."

"Oh, love. You really didn't have to." Anne laughed in delight, watching as you shook your head at her with a warm smile, "Gemma can help you."

"Of course!" Gemma perked up, standing up, "I personally love eating cocoa powder."

You laughed, pointing at her, " Me too! My brothers make fun of me for it all the time."

You and Gemma walked towards your suitcase by the door before you opened it, taking the packet of cocoa from one of the pockets and closing it. Gemma hummed, closing her eyes "It already smells so good."

"Trust me, it's the best you'll ever have." You assured her as you both walked back to where everyone was. Harry leaned his head back on the sofa, looking at you upside down before giving you a childlike wide grin, almost as if he was assuring you that it was going well.

Standing in the kitchen with Gemma as you warmed the milk, she cleared her throat, getting you to look at her. You felt nervous, almost as if you were preparing yourself for the talk.

"So, you and little Harold? How did that even happen?" She chuckled, looking at you as she leaned on the counter.

"I've been a fan of One Direction for as long as I remember and I've always, you know, kind of had a soft spot for H. I don't get to go to concerts and shows very often but I went to his show a few months ago after getting in contact with Jeff then I met him. We met then we went to this local bar not far away with the rest of the band and we sort of," you shrugged with a smile, "Clicked."

"I bet he was shitting himself," she laughed, turning off the stove before taking out mugs for you. "From what he told us, you haven't been dating for long."

You nodded, "Almost two months."

"I'm sorry if this is too straightforward but does your family know?" Gemma asked quietly.

"My brothers and their partners know that we're together, yes. Uh, my grandparents and father know something is going on but we kind of had," you gestured with your hands, "A disagreement you can say. They'll come around."

"But you're planning on telling them, right?"

You nodded instantly, "Definitely," you paused, sighing as you looked at her, "I know what you're thinking. I really don't plan on hurting Harry."

"What about your family? Do they not?"

Deciding to not take it to heart, you simply shook your head. "My family won't get in the way of what makes me happy."

"I'm sorry if I come off as a bitch, I just," Gemma stopped, looking at you sympathetically.

"I understand," You smiled, "I'd do the same if I were in your place. You're just looking out for your brother and I truly respect that."

Gemma smiled in gratitude before shaking her head, "God, you sound so posh."

As the night went on and everyone was more comfortable, you were tucked in Harry's side, his arm wrapped tightly around you.

Empty mugs of hot cocoa were proof of the success and so were the smiling faces in the room. Gemma, Anne and Michal sat with their presents on their laps as they waited to unwrap them.

First went Anne, neatly unwrapping the present after complimenting your choice of wrapping paper. Her eyes almost widened at the Versace box, opening the lid slowly as she gasped at what's inside. She took the dress out, holding it at arm's length as she gushed over it. "Y/N! This is gorgeous, sweetheart!" She stood up, holding it over her.

"Ooooo, look at you." Gemma grinned, now feeling over the moon excited to open her present.

"This is a lot, Y/N."

"It's not, I promise. You're letting me stay here for 6 whole days, Anne. It's the least." You truthfully said, giggling when she gave you a kiss on the cheek.

Harry grinned at the interaction, rubbing your arm.

"Okay, my turn!" Gemma exclaimed, unwrapping the present before gasping at the Alexander McQueen box, "Oh God," She laughed, opening it. "Ooooo,"

"I trusted H with the sizes." You informed them, watching as Gemma took out the black and white striped jumpsuit out.

"I love you already." Gemma pretended to wipe her tears, making everyone laugh. "Thank you so much, Y/N." "You're welcome, Gemma. I bet it would look so good with red lipstick." You wiggled your eyebrows.

"You know what? We're going out tomorrow and I'm wearing that." She pointed at you. Gemma sat down, elbowing Michal, "Go on then."

Opening his box after unwrapping it, Michal let out an excited laugh as he looked at the expensive golf watch he remembers telling Gem about it a year ago. "That's massive! Thank you!"

"It's no problem. Harry told me you're really into golf. He helped me with this one." You smiled up at Harry who scrunched his nose.

"Did a great job, mate."

You left your hair down as you changed into your pyjamas, walking inside Harry's room. Right as you stepped inside, Harry quickly covered something with the covers, making you stand on the doorway with your hand on your hip. "Got something, Styles?"

"Don't know what you're talking about." Harry shrugged, tilting his head at you with a cheeky grin.

You sighed dramatically, "Guess I just won't give you your present then."

Harry laughed, throwing his head back, "Y/N!" He whined.

"Fine," you chuckled, "Alright I got you a bunch of stuff actually." You took the rectangular box out of your duffel bag, holding it out as you sat beside him on the bed, crossing your legs.

"Okay," Harry breathed out, copying your moves and sitting in front of you with his legs crossed, unwrapping the box. "You have really nice wrapping paper."

"Thank you, I take pride in choosing and wrapping them." You giggled, bringing your knees closer to your chest as you rested your chin on your knee.

The first thing Harry got out of the box was a book that had a cat in front books and a typewriter on cover, the title being "I Could Pee On This" along with "And Other Poems by Cats"

Harry burst out laughing; his eyes shut and his head back as his hand slapped his thigh. "Where did you even find this?!"

You only shrugged in response, grinning at his reaction. "I know you love cats and I thought it might be exactly what you need."

"I definitely needed that. Thank you, baby." He laughed, putting it beside him before taking out the next item. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at the packet in his hand, reading what was written; "Animal butt magnets."

"When I first came to your house, I noticed your fridge didn't have any magnets so I thought you should add a few there."

Harry laughed, turning the packet to you, "You got me animal butts for me to stick on my fridge?"

You nodded excitedly, hugging your legs, "Precisely!"

"You're absolutely mental." Harry chuckled, leaning forward to peck your lips.

"Now for the grand, real gift!" You exclaimed in a reporter's voice, opening your arms wide.

Harry grinned, glancing at you before closing his eyes and taking the last item out of the box. His eyes fell on his hands, laughing, "Love, is that-" He glanced at you before opening the wallet in his hands, "It's a wallet! You got me a wallet that looks like burnt toast!"

"I love all of them!" Harry laughed, moving until he propped himself up on his knees, cupping your face in his hands as he pressed his lips to yours. "Has anyone ever told you how creative you are with gifts?" You hummed, smiling up at him before glancing at his lips, "Maybe one or two."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You whispered back, pecking his lips.

"You might not know it but you've been touching your present all along." Harry chuckled, kissing your temple for a second before taking the box from under the covers.

"H, it's made a fucking lump. Of course I knew it was a present." You laughed, looking at the green wrapped box.

You unwrapped the box, Harry watching nervously and silently admiring how gentle you were while unwrapping the box. "Gucci!" You grinned, looking at him, "That's your favourite."

"I remember you telling me you like something of mine so," he shrugged.

You opened the box, "Loafers! You got me loafers!" You grinned, taking them out, "Are we going to be the cliché couple that match?"

"I think we're cliché enough to do that." Harry nodded. "There's something else in there."

You looked down, taking out the vinyl record in your hands, grinning when you read "Piano Man" and "Billy Joel".

“How on earth did you know I wanted this?"

"Might have had Farrah help me with that one." Harry smiled, shrugging sheepishly.

"You take your Christmas presents seriously, don't you?" You smiled, putting the shoes back in the box before wrapping your arms around his torso.

"Do you have any idea how hard picking a present for you is?" Harry rolled his eyes, groaning as he threw his head back.

"Hey, that goes both ways." You raised an eyebrow.

He laughed, raising his hand to push the hair that got on your face away, "You know what I got us for when we're back at my house? For our board games nights and all that?"

"And the Chinese takeaway?" You asked hopefully, making him chuckle and nod.

"And the Chinese takeaway," Harry confirmed, "I got us about 10 massive puzzle pieces."

You gasped, "You genius! I was actually thinking about getting us a new one."

"And now we have 10."

“And I have Gucci loafers.”

“And I have a wallet that looks like burnt toast.”

“Sorry about that, by the way. I didn’t know you took Christmas presents so seriously.” You sheepishly said, scrunching your nose as you looked up at him.

“Hey, none of that,” Harry frowned, “These are probably the nicest Christmas presents I have ever had. ‘sides,” he held up his wallet and new magnets, “What’s not serious about these babies?”

#The Royal Series #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x princess #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au

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kaylans-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

trois: al dente

synopsis: Realising him, his daughter, and his housemates couldn’t live off fast food forever, Tom Holland joins a cooking class.

pairing: single dad! Tom Holland x single mum! reader

warnings: fluff, angst, no-no words, and absolute cuteness from one Miss Autumn Diana Holland and one Mister Lucas Peter Y/L/N.

an: I just want to thank you guys again for the love you have shown this series. it means the world to me.

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al dente: cooked so it's still tough when bitten, often referring to pasta

meal: lasagne

Tom had the best luck. He just had to run into Y/N when he looked ‘horrendous’ as Harry so kindly put it. He had been tasked with getting the groceries while his best mates did the cleaning, which was very much long overdue. Not wanting his young and impressionable daughter, with a knack for repeating words she overhead, Tom brought her along. She had asked him questions on the car ride to Tesco’s. He had given her the warning he always gave her to behave, not that he needed to, she was his perfect princess, and unstrapped her from her seat.

He was given a list of things they needed for the house, most of it was nonsense, and he wouldn’t get them at all, but he figured he would humour them and get kid-friendly alternates. Setting Autumn into the trolley, he started his walk around the supermarket. Autumn hummed a tune from a show she was obsessed with and would often point out things that caught her attention. He was having a great time, listening to Autumn babble on about what happened at nursery and what Gretchen and Holly did to get in trouble, until he, quite literally, bumped into a familiar woman. Apologies spilt from his mouth before he saw who he bumped into. A familiar giggle stopped his rambling and caused him to look up, making eye contact with gorgeous glowing eyes.

“Oh, God. Y/N, what are you doing here? That was a stupid question, you’re clearly shopping, I am so sorry,” he apologised before he smiled at her. She brushed him off and smiled, her eyes moving from his face towards the small little girl who sported a cheeky smile, her honey eyes wide and laced with amusement. She thrust her tiny hand towards her and motioned for the older woman to take it.

“‘M Autumn, but daddy calls me Burrito. Who are you?” her bluntness caused a giggle to slip from Y/N’s lips and Tom to snap his head up to look at her in embarrassment. First, he bumps into her in the cereal aisle and now his three-year-old quite sassily asked her who she was. Sometimes he wished she didn’t know how to speak as well as she did.

“It’s nice to meet you, Autumn, I’m Y/N. Is this your daddy?” She asked, pointing at Tom with her thumb. Tom was never going to be ashamed of Autumn; she was his pride and joy. The apple of his eyes, the reason he lives, etc., but he silently wished his daughter said no to her question. He hadn’t gathered up the courage to ask Y/N on a date, and he didn’t want to ruin any chances because she found out he had a daughter before he could tell her. He wanted at least one date with her before dropping the bomb that he was a single father and having her ghost him.

Autumn nodded with a proud smile, her toothy smile wide as she smiled at her father. Tom’s heart swelled at the thought of his daughter being proud of him. Y/N chuckled and opened her mouth to respond before a small body barreled into her leg, holding a box of Jaffa cakes. Y/N nodded her head towards the little boy and laughed as she watched him run towards their trolley and place them in it ever so gently before he wandered the length of the aisle in search of the cereal he wanted. Y/N motioned for him to come back and grabbed ahold of his small hand.

“Luca, this is Tom and his daughter Autumn, they’re mummy’s friends, can you say hi?” she said slowly while signing it out with her hands. The small boy, who couldn’t be older than six, nodded his head before turning to his mother’s friends. Using his fingers and talking lowly, he introduced himself to the older man and his wife.

“Hi, my name is Lucas,” he signed with a smile. At that moment, Tom was thankful for briefly considering teaching his daughter sign language when she was a baby. Of course, he couldn’t do so, since he had a fish’s attention span, but he had googled phrases when he was researching it. He was able to catch the phrase and introduced himself with ease. The little boy’s eyes lit up; he wasn’t used to someone making an effort to communicate with him, except for his mother, family, and one school friend. Y/N’s heart swelled as she watched her cute student use his fingers to reply to her son. Every guy she had ever dated or considered dating had all but left when they found out she had son, and the ones who stayed, left when they found out he was deaf.

“Daddy, why is he using his fingers?” Autumn whispered. Once again mortified at his daughter’s bluntness, her father sent Y/N an apologetic smile before he turned to his daughter. He explained it to her in terms she would understand, she nodded along and turned to her newfound friend with a smile. She threw up her fingers and waved them around, much to Lucas’ confusion and the amusement of his mother. Y/N explained to her son that she was merely trying to say hello but that she didn’t know his language. Autumn, getting frustrated at not interacting with her new friend, motioned for her father to take her out of the trolley and place her on the ground. Tom set her down and watched with pride as his daughter hugged the boy.

“Uh, we should get going. It was nice to see you outside of class, Tom,” Y/N said shyly. She didn’t want to leave, but she figured that if she stayed any longer and watched Tom interact with her son, and make an effort to communicate with him with Lucas in his comfort zone, she would surely fall in love with him. And his daughter, she was so much like Tom. She was kind and welcoming; she would surely want to claim her as her own but figured that a handsome, made man like Tom, definitely had a wife he kept from the public. She knew he had a daughter, but his relationship status was never discussed on the internet. And she never spent too long on the internet unless it was to research ways to make Lucas’ life as comfortable as possible and the pros and cons of a cochlear implant as of recently.

Tom was distraught knowing she had a son, not because it was a turn off, but because it likely meant she was in a relationship. And an established one too seeing as her son was no older than six. With a sigh, he agreed and bid his goodbye, quickly getting a box of cereal and leaving the aisle with his three year old happily babbling behind him. She cleared her throat and sent him a weary smile after he stopped and looked at her.

“Sorry, it’s just, you took my trolley,” as if he couldn’t be more embarrassed. First, he shows up to the supermarket looking less than ideal with two different socks, and an old t-shirt with spit up on it from when Autumn was a baby, then he asks her what she’s doing at a grocery store like a knob, and now, he just has to take her groceries. He just couldn’t catch a break. Sheepishly, he apologised and handed her back her trolley, once again dashing away. Y/N chuckled from her spot before turning towards her son who stared at her with wide hazel eyes under his red glasses.

“Mummy, was that the cute man you told Auntie about?” Lucas signed prompting Y/N to blush, but nodded nonetheless. What kind of mother would be if she lied to her son about a small crush. She asked him what cereal he wanted, effectively changing the topic. He ran off towards the aisle and followed after the small boy, stopping when he held up a box of Frosties. She allowed him to put it in the trolley before they continued on with their shopping.

Tom had to bribe his daughter pack of Smarties for her to stop laughing at his misfortune, and a box of chocolate biscuits in order for her not to tell her Uncles. He needed to reduce the time she spent with Tuwaine and Harry, they were corrupting his daughter. Autumn sat in her car seat happily munching on her smarties while Tom drove, still reeling at the way he behaved around her, and about how he was smitten with a woman who probably had a family. Autumn still giggled from her carseat from time to time when she remembered how her acted in front of the pretty chef. He would resort to sending her playful glares and threatening to cut her tea time with her nana.

Calling for the boys to help them unload the groceries, he shuffled inside with Autumn hot on his heels. Helping out by carrying her bag of snacks, she ran towards her bedroom while calling for her uncles to help her dad. Tom rolled his eyes but chuckled. Harrison was the first one out followed by Tuwaine and Harry who all complained about helping, but did it nonetheless. Between the three man, they got the bags inside quickly and left Tom to unpack everything while they searched for Autumn, to undoubtedly wreak havoc in their home.

Harry came into the kitchen when Tom restocked their fridge and looked at his older brother with giddiness. Tom sent him a questioning glance before turning back towards the fridge causing his younger brother to throw one of Autumn’s toys at him. Tom turned around with offence laced in his eyes and flicked his brother off simultaneously rubbing the sore spot on his head.

“That was payback for hitting me on the head,” he deadpanned before walking towards him, phone open and ready, “and it was also to get your attention. She followed me back, I figured you might want to you know, do your research on her.” Tom stared at his brother incredoulsly and reached out for the phone only to stop himself. Did he really want to stalk someone, a woman at that, that he had no chance with anymore? Did he want to be as shameless as his younger brother?

Shaking his head, he softly pushed his phone away from his face before turning back to his groceries; not wanting to be tempted with the offer. Harry snorted before sitting back down and started scrolling on his phone. Tom figured that was the end of his brother’s tampering until he cleared his throat dramatically and started describing his posts to him.

“And in this one, she’s in France with a cute baby on her hip and they’re in front of the Eiffel Tower. Her caption says,” he proceeded to raise his voice a few octaves and mimicked her voice, even though they had never spoken before, “decided to spend my boy’s first birthday in the city of Love!” Tom rolled his eyes at his brothers exaggerated voice and failed to catch the way his eyes widened the more he scrolled on her page as he now placed groceries in the cupboard.

“I didn’t know she had a kid,” Harry said, Tom only ignored him, “but I think she’s single, she posted a picture of them together on his recent birthday and said that he was the only love of her life.”

Tom couldn’t help but feel better at this revelation but he couldn’t know for sure until he found someway to interject it in conversation, or until Harrison does it for him. He really needed to get his act together and talk to her without making himself look like a fool. Harry continued to scroll aimlessly before he cursed and mumbled on about how he liked a picture from two years ago. Tom laughed and left the kitchen, leaving his brother alone in his debacle. Maybe that would teach him to stop stalking people.

The next class came quickly and once again, he dragged Harrison with him. The blond had no complaints this time around, seeing as his date with the raven haired girl went well and he was going to see her once again. He pulled into the car park and noticed the familiar red car pulling into a spot close to his. Tom watched as she struggled with the supplies in her hand and with her bags and quickly jumped out after turning off the engine. Forgetting about his friend, he locked the door and rushed to offer her his help. With a grateful smile, she allowed for him to carry some of her belongings into the class. They shared pleasantries and talked, both of them ignoring what happened at Tesco’s. They would remain friends even if they couldn’t be together.

Tom settled down in his seat and pulled out his phone, his eyes widening when he saw Harrison’s very angry messages. He snorted before excusing himself and walking back towards his car, making eye contact with Harrison who flipped him off. He unlocked the door and braced himself for the inevitable hurt the blue eyed man was about to inflict on him. After a rather harsh punch and even harsher words, the two walked back into the classroom and took their spots, flushing under the weight of everyone’s eyes.

Y/N started her class after the entered the room and walked around after she passed around the recipe papers to them. Harrison and Tom looked at the sheet in confusion, she had never taught this way, she always demonstrated. The two looked around the room and watched as everyone else had started following the recipe, moving about their areas and puting things together. Their eyes widened as they read over the instructions once again. Re-reading a recipe at home after having made the food was one thing, but making food without doing it once was another. They swallowed and pushed down the feeling of doom they were both feeling.

After nearly smacking Harrison with one of the lasagne noodles and then almost getting sauce on his shoes, they worked on making the food together. Y/N had stopped by occasionally to help them out, and to put out a small grease fire, but left them to their own devices as she continued to walk around. Swallowing his pride, Harrison called for her and asked for her help which she happily gave. She demonstrated how to cut vegetables, how to grate the cheese, and even taught them a new phrase.

“Al dente; it’s how we refer to pasta when it’s hard but still cooked, which is what we want to do with the lasagne noodles,” she explained softly. Harrison paid attention to her demonstration while Tom focused on her and the way her eyes danced in delight as she explained and her tone was light when she answered any questions they had. With her help, they placed the lasagne in the oven and high fived as they finished without starting a fire or getting into a fight. They thanked her to which she nodded and left them to their devices while they waited. She had instructed the class to get ahead of the cleaning process and do so while they waited so they could leave early.

Part of Tom didn’t want to leave early, but he knew he would have to. So together, they cleaned up their area and waited for their food to finish cooking. They finished quickly and Harrison ditched him for Violet, the raven haired girl he went on a date with, leaving Tom to pass the time on his phone. A tap on his shoulder brought him out of his scrolling. He looked up and met soft eyes and a warm smile. Y/N.

“I saw Harrison leave you for Violet, figured I would keep you company,” she paused, a panicked look in her eyes, “only if that’s okay with you of course.” Tom nodded and placed his phone down, gesturing for her to take a seat beside him. She thanked him and settled down.

“Your daughter is adorable,” she commented as she watched his screen light up with a message from his mum, his phone screen on display. It was a picture of the three year old at one of his premiers, smiling her toothy smile at the photographers. Tom thanked her and agreed with a fond smile. Autumn was adorable.

“Your son is cute,” he said, causing her to smile, “you and your boyfriend must be happy.”

“Oh, no boyfriend, just me and Luca,” she informed him, “what about you? You and your partner must be ecstatic to have such a charming little girl running around.”

“If you’re referring to Harrison, I can assure you we are more than okay with seeing other people, preferably of the opposite gender,” he joked. She laughed and looked at him intently.

“So, there’s no Missus?” she inquired, Tom shook his head. She smiled at his response and opened her mouth to reply before the sound of alarms going off interrupted her. She stood up and instructed everyone to take their dishes out of the oven and check their food, making sure the noodles were soft and easy to cut into. She went around offering everyone the lid to the containers the lasagne was in and helped those who needed, close them.

Tom handed their container and the keys to the car to Harrison rather roughly and pushed him out the door before walking towards Y/N and clearing his throat, fiddling with his fingers. She sent him a questioning look and rose an eyebrow, waiting for him to talk.

“Uh, I just wanted to invite you and Lucas to Autumn’s birthday,” no he didn’t, he was fully intending on asking her on a date, “it’s on Saturday. It’s okay if you can’t or simply don’t want to but I think-”

“We would love to come. Here, you can text me the address, and Luca and I will be there. How old is she turning?” She asked and handed him her phone. He typed in his phone number and smiled at the picture she had set her wallpaper as. It was of her and Lucas, smiling at the camera. Lucas had cake frosting smeared on his face and on his hands which he was placing on her cheek.

“Four,” she didn’t turn four for another month. Now he had to throw together a quick birthday party and lie to his daughter. All because he couldn’t ask the pretty chef out on a date.

“We’ll be there,” she said, Tom nodded and walked out of the room slowly, until she called his name, “text me. It doesn’t have to be about the party.” She winked and Tom blushed.

He walked towards the car with a spring in his step and his head in the clouds. He didn’t ask her on a date, but he got her number and she told him to text her. That was better than nothing. Now all he needed to do was throw an impromptu birthday party for his daughter.

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keepitreal1 · 4 years ago

Text

Speaking as H, through the eyes of him & the scum squad!

Growing up, the world & I lost my mother

We thought we would never be fortunate enough to find another

People loved & adored Diana, she was my mum

Then someone more saintly, my wife did come

Meghan was sent to be our saviour from heaven above

To create a world spreading compassion & love

First she was sent to save me,

From what I know now, is an awful family

My wife gave up her life for me, she gave up her Hollywood career

She came so that she could teach me that things aren't as they appear

I used to think i was happy, my wife showed me I was actually sad

Meghan showed me that before her, my life was really bad

My wife had to start the change with the Royal family, the worst of the worse

Much like Jesus with the devil she had to fight this curse

My wife as always been committed, she's devoted to charity

To make everything better for everyone, all equal without disparity

My wife came to guide us with compassion, on a global scale

She spreads love & joy everywhere, like a fairytale

Kate is jealous of my wife, cos she knows Meg is the People's Princess

Kate just doesn't have the empathy & compassion that my wife does possess

Meg says William is jealous cos no-one wants him to be King

It's because the world loves her so much, & knows that she is better than him

The whole Royal family are just resentful of my wife & I

Because they will never be loved like us, no matter how hard they try

Meghan taught me of how I had always been trapped

She had it worse though, being chased & papped

I didn't understand how the press knew everywhere my poor wife did go

Meg said its obvious, its Kate & Will who let them know

The Royal family caused Meg so much suffering & pain

How could they? After it was Meg who brought them all their fame

The Queen, she wouldn't let us use Sussex Royal

After all we did for them, always being loyal

Jesus was persecuted, they thought killing him would be his exit

My poor wife is persecuted with the modern day version, the Megxit

My wife shone a light on the racism of everyone in the UK

Poor Meghan suffered greatly, to

protect her & Archie we couldn't stay

I had to save us & rescue my wife & son

Otherwise Meg said she'd end up dead like my mum

To save ourselves we had to escape, we had to run away

So we borrowed Tyler Perrys private jet & flew to LA

I now know I was a prisoner, trapped in pain & suffering my entire life

Now I know the actual truth and it's all thanks to my beloved wife

I owe a debt to big to ever repay, that I owe my wife

For its she whom saved me from the toxic, racist UK & she whom saved my life

I had to cut out my family & friends, I left my job, & the country I called home

But all that was toxic & bad for me, if it hadn't been for Meg, I'd never have known

I don't want to be a Royal but Meg said the title is mine

She said with our titles we can raise the world and we can make it shine

We had to do deals with P & G, Netflix & Spotify so we could build our brand

This is the way Meghan will heal us & give the world a helping hand

Some people don't like my wife because she is black

It doesn't matter how kind she is, some people just attack

My wife should have been showered by all, with admiration

The people whom have seen the light, give her the deserved adoration

The evil others, they do not matter, they are just noise

For they are all just envious of her beauty & poise

My wife says to let the nastiness go down the drain

It's all because she is beautiful, black & as a big brain

Meghan does nothing for herself, she works hard being a mom & helping others

She can't help being far superior, to all the other mothers

Meghan said we should go on Oprah now she as a voice

When she was in the Royal family she was silenced with no choice

As we were setting up, to do the Oprah interview

We got a phonecall, it came out the blue

The Queen said your grandpa is dying

Like Judas to Jesus, Meg knew she was lying

On Oprah Meghan went, to spread the word & have her say

She could finally tell her truth & that she did that day

She told of how we are fighting racism & misinformation

She as been sent to save us, by leading the nation

Everyone knows there's been millions die in the pandemic

But people forget that my wife suffered more, with racism that's systemic

Like Jesus, my wife is risen again

No one will stop her she will raise all women & men

My wife as sacrificed herself to bring worldwide peace, love, healing & equity

She is our saviour of both the planet & humanity

Jesus gave us the great book The Bible, my wife as given us the magnificent The Bench

She's given us a new language, Word Salad & she will fight the racism we entrench

For now she guides us on our path, she enlightens us & in her we can trust

Meghan will raise us to, so that we are righteous & just

For us her followers, Oprah, Omid & the Sussex squad

We know the truth, Meghan is the new god

We will cast aside all evil and protect her with all our might

We will fight off the sinners especially if they are white

We will go with our saviour, live in a new world for which we have yearned

Anyone who is against her shall find themselves well & truly spurned

For she is the light & the resurrection

& We are here for her protection

My wife & I just want a whole new world that is fair & equal

To explain how Meghan will achieve this, she & Omid are writing a sequal

By KeepItReal1

Twitter @itreal1

#yankee wally #according2taz #harry markle wordpress #murkymeg #pdina #youtube #royals

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theblogtini · 4 years ago

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I would not put it pass MM to not announce the birth until July 1. I don’t believe the rumor she’s due then because there is no way in hell she would be that big in Feb. I do see her being a conniving bitch to give birth and then wait to steal the spot light from Diana’s statue unveiling.

Harry shows up to the unveiling holding a 1.5 month old baby, brings her up to the face of the Diana statue and rubs the baby on it. Tears cascading down his cheeks. Then he turns dramatically to the camera and announces to the world that her name is Diana Frances Spencer Mountbatten-Windsor and that she WILL go by Lady Diana until she receives her HRH at which point she WILL go by HRH Princess Diana. Meghan will pop up from behind a shrub screaming DIANA WE GOT YOU BACK YOUR HRH - NOT WILLIAM - WE DID!!!! And then Harry will be like "Oh right and heres a statue of my mum who died." and they will both fall at the feet of the statue with Meghan sobbing "I love you mummy, I love you so much."

William and Catherine will be standing awkwardly off to the side and then Catherine will nudge William and he'll take out his cell phone and a camera will zoom into him as a press dude runs up w/ a boom mic and we'll hear him whispering into the phone "Uhm yeah - about that mental help they said they needed but couldn't get... can we like... do something about that now?"

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celticcrossanon · 4 years ago

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Two Questions that Arose During the Oprah Interview

I have two questions that have come from my gut instinct as I was reading the live blogging of the interview (I could not watch it):

1. I had a suspicion that Meghan wanted the stress from the interview to kill Prince Philip. I pulled cards on it, and my suspicions were confirmed. Meghan would be very happy if this interview contributed to/hastened Prince Philip’s death, or killed him outright via stress. it is the same plot she pulled with her father and his heart attack before the wedding. She wants to sit in a coronation, have her son get his rightful title, go up a rung or three in status, dip her hands into the BRF wealth and jewels as the daughter-in-law of the King, etc etc etc It’s not the main reason for doing the interview (that was all about ego and clapping back), but it would be a definite side benefit in her eyes. I will write this up later for you, once I stop feeling sick about it.

2. I think Charles is still funding the Harkles. The cutting off they referred to is the 5% of their income that came from the Sovereign Grant, not the 95% that is from Charles’s ‘private’ money from the Duchy of Cornwall. Harry expects a payout for making Charles look good to the general public by saying he was cut off. This is just a gut feeling at the moment. I still have to pull cards on this. I hope I am wrong.

Added: I drew cards: The Queen of Cups - emotions, Princess Diana, The Sun - literally Diana’s son, Harry, also generally the most positive/everything is good for you/yes card, and the Ten of Pentacles - the most money you can have, and the card shows a family of dad, mum and 2 kids. Underlying energy is the Knight of Pentacles - someone or something who is steady and reliable, and the suit of pentacles is money. My gut feeling was right. Charles is still funding them privately (or he was until the interview, I can check for after the interview later).

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the-empress-7 · 3 years ago

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Some William ' Throne Idle' articles from 2016

From the Guardian ( February 2016)

https://www.theguardian.com/media/greenslade/2016/feb/18/the-sun-gives-both-barrels-to-prince-william

This article is more than 5 years old

The Sun gives both barrels to Prince William

Roy Greenslade

This article is more than 5 years old

Newspaper accuses the huntin’, shootin’ and fishin’ Duke of Cambridge of idleness and seeking to exercise control over the media

Thu 18 Feb 2016 11.41 GMT

It has been coming for a while. The Sun, despite its support for the monarchy, has given both barrels to Prince William.

In a spread headlined “Meddling Wills is throne idle”, the paper accused him of a reluctance to carry out public engagements while enjoying the life of a huntin’, shootin’ and fishin’ “gentleman country farmer”.

There is, said the article, “little doubt about William’s desperation to shun the role he was born to do”. He is “the very essence of a reluctant royal.”

The piece was prompted by one of the prince’s rare public appearances - his first in 2016 - in which he addressed foreign office staff and, in so doing, provoked something of a row.

His remarks prompted speculation that he was endorsing the UK’s continued membership of the European Union (a view comprehensively rubbished by the Guardian’s Michael White).

But the Sun saw it as a breach of royal protocol, implying that it was an anti-Brexit speech. Whether it was or wasn’t, the paper’s senior executives believed the prince should have been more careful in what he said.

More than that, the Sun used the opportunity to air other grievances about the prince. It reported: “Many people, including his own friends, are starting to question whether William really wants to be royal at all.”

It contrasted the number of public engagements he carried out in 2015 with other members of the royal family. With a total of 122, William did fewer than 11 other royals, including his 94-year-old grandfather. The Sun’s story stated:

“He deliberately based himself, wife Kate and their children — George, two, and nine-month-old Charlotte — out of the public eye at the ten-bedroom Anmer Hall in deepest Norfolk.

And he shows little interest in taking on more royal patronages, preferring instead to work as a pilot for the local air ambulance.”

It criticised his failure, as Bafta president, to turn up the awards ceremony “for the second successive year”. And it also pointed out that he rarely spends any time in London “despite YOU having to fork out £4m for the refurbishment of the family’s 22-room apartment at Kensington Palace.”

Tabloid editors are not the only ones to question the prince’s reluctance to appear in public. Joan Smith, writing in the Independent in 2013, noted how few engagements he carried out.

From Newsweek ( March 2017)

https://www.newsweek.com/prince-william-king-royal-family-568236

Will Prince William Be King? 'Work-Shy' Allegations Prompt Speculation About End Of The Royal Family

BY JASON LE MIERE ON 3/15/17 AT 10:53 AM EDT

From The Sun (one of many articles from this period on the subject)

https://www.thesun.co.uk/news/2506110/prince-charles-did-double-his-sons-work-30yrs-ago-as-wills-and-kate-are-slammed-for-shirking-royal-duties/

THRONE IDLE

Prince Charles did double his son’s work 30yrs ago as Wills and Kate are slammed for shirking royal duties

It will reinforce the view that the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge are not as busy

Jacob Lewis

Emily Fairbairn

23:47, 30 Dec 2016

Updated: 21:43, 31 Dec 2016

PRINCE William has been slammed for attending less than half the number of official events this year compared with his dad at the same stage of life.

Stats this week showed Wills made 188 appearances in 2016 and wife Kate 140 but in 1985 dad Charles made 404 official appearances and mum Princess Diana 299.

From DM ( they worked out that he wasn't turning up to his EAAA shifts as contracted to do)

https://www.pressreader.com/uk/scottish-daily-mail/20160308/281694023875020

Part-time Wills slopes off with Kate and kids”. Rebecca English

From MaCleans - Note the EAAA criticism

https://www.macleans.ca/society/prince-william-was-under-fire-for-being-work-shy-then-things-got-really-nasty/

Prince William was called 'work-shy.' Then things got really nasty.

A tempest about Prince William's work ethic is now a scandal focusing on the future king's laziness

By Patricia TrebleFebruary 22, 2016

troubling royal statistics wouldn’t have been enough to elevate this beyond the usual tabloid level. That came when the Sun devastated the excuse long given by royal officials—that William works as an air ambulance pilot, thus couldn’t do that many duties. An unnamed source offered all the ammunition the Sun needed: “William’s supporters point out his engagements are down as he was busy with a new job last summer with East Anglian Air Ambulance. And he’s ‘packing in the shifts’ so everything else has to fit in. But a source grumbled to the Sun: ‘He’s hardly ever on shift. He was very enthusiastic to begin with but it tailed off. It’s supposed to be four on, four off but with the Duke it’s more off than on. He had at least four weeks off over Christmas, which has to be staffed the same as normal weeks. It’s fine that he gets a bit of special treatment but it’s beginning to really annoy some people. The rumour is that he’s just a bit bored of it.’ ”

Sensing danger, royal damage control parties (by all accounts under the direction of William and Kate) swung into action—and missed.

On Monday, air ambulance bosses were trotted out to praise William as doing “a very important job,” while also insisting, “We all feel he’s very much part of the team.” A Kensington Palace spokeswoman, who answers to William and Kate, thanked East Anglian Air Ambulance for giving William “the opportunity to carry out his skilled work.” Palace sources insisted he aimed to be “on shift” as a pilot for around 80 hours a month (around 22.5 hours a week), thus conforming with Civil Aviation Authority (CAA) rules.

But those “unnamed palace sources” couldn’t stop talking, and appeared to have blundered into a deep hole. One told Gordon Rayner, chief reporter at the Telegraph, that William was restricted in the number of royal duties he could undertake because “there are mandatory rest days enforced by the CAA, when you’re not meant to go off and do other work because it’s not rest.”

The CAA shot back, saying William’s staff was “confused.” A CAA spokesman said Rayner: “It’s true that you can only work a certain number of hours in any given period, but to suggest that pilots can’t do anything else on some rest days is totally unenforceable. When they are having rest days their time is their own, and they can do what they want, including carrying out royal duties.”

#these people look like fools now don't they

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jerseydeanne · 4 years ago

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William is quietly winning the battle of the royal brothers - Their responses to Bashir revelations are as different as they are as people, but we knew they would be

It must frustrate Prince Harry that his own popularity has become so obviously inversely proportional to his brother’s. They had a highly competitive relationship before Harry and Meghan decided to throw a grenade under the Queen and the Royal family in favour of earning Kardashian cash in the US. It often appeared that a large part of the Sussexes’ beef with the monarchy was that they constantly felt in the Cambridges’ shadow. Yet their bid to seek “financial independence” in California has cast them completely in the shade in the minds of the majority of Brits, many of whom would prefer it if they disappeared from view altogether. The more they have accused the “racist” Royal family of “total neglect”, the more they have succeeded in encouraging the British public to throw their support behind the institution – as shown by a YouGov poll last week finding six in 10 people want them to be stripped of their titles or to stop using them. The better William and Kate perform, the worse Harry and Meghan look for breaking up the Fab Four in the first place. The Yanks might not see it like this, but we do because, unlike naive Americans prone to endless psychobabble, we were never under any illusions about the dysfunctionality at the heart of the Royal family (or any family, for that matter). In his latest outpouring for his new Apple TV documentary series, Harry voiced his resentment at being told to “play the game” to make life easier in the House of Windsor. “I’ve got a hell of a lot of my mum in me,” he boasted. “The only way to free yourself and break out is to tell the truth. ”Yet, ironically, the one person in The Firm who “played the game” better than anyone else was Diana, Princess of Wales. That was until she took the disastrous decision to pour her heart out to deceitful Martin Bashir – albeit under what we now know were false pretences. By continuing to stoke the flames of publicity with his smug, self-pitying and at times, spiteful rhetoric, Harry shows he has actually learned nothing from his mother’s experience. For in trying to emulate her doe-eyed confessionals to speak his “truth”, he is repeating her mistake of squandering popularity for the sake of evening the score. While there’s no doubting Harry’s noble intentions in wanting to raise awareness of mental health issues – let’s make no mistake here, like Diana deciding to air her dirty linen on the BBC, this is a man out for vengeance. With his team of officious LA-based PRs and unwillingness to appear on any platform that actually offers a right of reply to the people he trashes, he’s hypocritically playing his own, one-sided games. Exactly like his mother at her lowest ebb, Harry seems to think the world is out to get him. Yet far from it being personal, there is a word for what has happened to him over the years. It’s called “life”. While he was a 12-year-old walking behind his mother’s coffin in 1997, there were literally hundreds and thousands of other children also coming to terms with the loss of a parent. Around the same time, I was a teenager, scraping my alcoholic mother off the pavement. As any therapist worth their salt will tell him – you can either hold onto the past and let it dictate your future, or let go and truly “find your freedom”. William has had to endure exactly the same fate as Harry. In fact, as the elder brother and “heir” rather than “spare” it has arguably been even more difficult for him. As his dignified statement on Thursday night made clear, he vividly remembers “the fear, paranoia and isolation” of his mother’s final years. It was his shoulder upon which she cried about the breakdown of her marriage. It was he who promised her, after she lost the HRH style, that he would “give it back to you one day when I am king. ”As the child of divorced parents myself, I know all too well that while every child is adversely affected, the oldest is often at the coalface, shouldering most of the burden. Despite this, and having to come to terms with being tethered to a life mapped out at birth,

William

has borrowed from the best of his mother’s playbook. He has resolved to serve others, rather than himself. Instead of growing up to resent the rules of the game, he has used them to his advantage, realising – as all the best royals do – that it is never really about “them”, but about “us”. Unlike Harry, who has misinterpreted the Queen’s “never complain, never explain” mantra as a gagging clause – William has used it as it was intended, as a protection order to ensure the lines between the professional and the personal do not become too blurred. Like the mute button on Twitter, he has silenced his critics not by taking them on, but keeping calm and carrying on regardless. And in stark contrast to his brother, William has shown he understands the press as well as Diana did. By actually reading the newspapers (rather than obsessing over the online comments like Harry), the second-in-line to the throne has come to the sensible conclusion that the media, while imperfect, can be used as a considerable force for good. While his brother was using Lord Dyson’s report as a stick with which to once again beat the tabloid press, William was mature enough to acknowledge that if it wasn’t for the newspapers, Bashir would have got away with his rogue reporting for even longer. “Public service broadcasting and a free press have never been more important,” he magnanimously declared. Harry’s nonsense claim that “practices like these – and even worse – are still widespread today” only serves to highlight just how unqualified he is to act as referee on matters as serious as the First Amendment, which he described as “bonkers” on a recent podcast. Both these royal brothers are playing a game – but only one of them is winning.

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2021/05/21/william-quietly-winning-battle-royal-brothers/

#camilla tominey #prince william #prince harry #british royal family #meghan markle #princess diana #battle #martin bashir #panorama interview #bbc

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