#online booking hotel in London

[ladyjmontilyet]

just realised i'm supposed to pay a €600 deposit in september for the college year and i have, uh, maybe 1/6th of that.

[a-b-riddle]

Part Three

Warning: If you don't like Taylor Swift, you're not gonna like this chapter that much, homie. But So Long, London is so fitting for this drabble series. (I guess a series since it's longer than a drabble at this point)

Can’t stop thinking about reader just trying to move on

You had to remind yourself several times not to check in with the guys. It had almost become second nature doing something big like this. But going to another country…

Not that they would care. You told yourself. It was for the best that way.

The expo went better than you expected. You didn’t believe that there would be a line out the door of eager readers wanting to read your book, but you got a decent amount. More than a few told you they couldn’t wait to read it. Several asking for photos and asking questions on any future books, a spin-off or even continuing the series.

When one a particular large group of girls your age asked for a group photo, you could have cried. They were had found each other in an online book club. You had given them your book several months ago. All copies signed with a note thanking them for taking the time to read what you had poured your heart into.

You had spent a large chunk of your free time talking to them. Bonding more so as women than over your book.

"Have you listened to Taylor's new album?"

It had only been out for two days and you had been able to avoid it like the plague. You didn't need to even listen to 'So Long, London' to know it would fucking gut you. So you would enjoy your time in the states. Save the listening experience for when you were packing up their stuff.

They had posted and tagged you before continuing on with the rest of the expo. You had reposted the photo to your own social media. Or at least one attached to the pen name you had crafted. You only had twelve thousand instagram followers, but it was something.

The first day was much like the second. You had attended several Q & A sessions with a panel of more experienced authors and managed to go to a few meet and greets. Before you knew it, it was time to pack up shop.

The agent the publishing house had assigned to you had stuck with you for most of the day. You were able to pick her brain a bit about new ideas for possible future plot lines and her thoughts. Overall, the trip was great.

Not only were you able to make great connections and take a lot back home with you to reference, but for a few days you forgot what waited for you back home. Or rather what wasn't waiting for you.

By the time your plane landed back in London you could barely hold yourself up. You left the expo, went straight to the hotel to shower, pack and head to the airport.

Your flight was delayed. Your luggage was taking forever to get onto the belt. It was only seven, but fuck if you weren’t ready to just call it a day. Tomorrow you would have to start again. Opening up the shop. Coming back to an empty flat. Maybe start gathering up the items the boys had left behind.

Should you give them in separate boxes or just one giant one and let them sort it out themselves? It was easy to discern whose sweatshirt and t-shirts belonged to who, but when it got to things like socks and chargers...

Yeah.

They could sort it themselves.

You could drop it off at Kyle's when you knew he would be at the gym. He was good at avoiding you anyway.

It wasn't until you stood in your apartment did it hit you.

You were alone.

For the first time in over a year you couldn't call one of them over to soothe that ache of loneliness.

For the first time in over a year, you had to relearn how to handle just being alone.

You usually showered at night. Washing away the grime of the day before settling into bed. But today was a new chapter. You woke up wanting to start it on a good note. Plus you went straight to bed after getting home so you still had a bit of airport funk on you.

It had been a week. One official since you had sent that text nailing the coffin shut. You had touched base with your friends who didn't bat an eye at you dating four men at once. They liked them, even if Simon scared them. You didn't give them the details of the breakup or the cause. You were pretty private in your problems and if you wanted relationship advice, you would seek an unbiased unopinion.

You had a good group of friends, but the moment you told them that you were well and truly heartbroken, they would insist the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Something you were nowhere near ready for.

So you needed to look like you had your shit together. You put on a dress that was feminine and, most importantly, comfy as fuck. An A-line floral frock paired with a light sweater and some white trainers. You knew a few of your friends would be stopping by for tea so you need to look like you were taking the separation well. Even if you were barely holding it together.

With makeup and perfume on, you started the early morning stroll to your shop.

You loved openings. Starting up the register and selecting the playlist for today. Picking out the essential oil to put in the diffuser even though you mostly stuck with a lavender and vanilla blend during the spring months.

For the morning you stuck with a Taylor Swift Instrumental playlist you had found initially for studying, but you liked the peaceful feeling it brought. Even when it covered the most gut wrenching songs.

You had started to collect the online orders that had accumulated over the last week. Sending out the e-mails alerting to your patrons that their orders were ready for pick up. Luckily you weren't set to receive a delivery until tomorrow.

It was eight and everything was set. Although not many people came to a bookstore at eight in the morning, it really didn't bother you opening up that early considering you were the only employee that was on the payroll. It gave you the possibility of making money, but mostly you spent the morning reading or writing.

You flipped the sign over from CLOSED to OPEN. Ready to start take on the day.

You had turned the kettle on in the back room when your friends had stopped by around lunch. You always said it was just tea, but you always had an array of snacks on standby for you all to munch on.

Meredith was complaining about what a dick the new client at the law firm was being. An absolute slime who had been married to his wife for almost twenty-five years before he decided to fuck his twenty-two year old assistant.

Tabitha didn't want to talk about work. To her, her career in tech was just a paycheck. She did what she needed to do and left when she was done.

You talked about the expo and how your book. Although neither of them really read, they had promised that they would read your book. You didn't hold your breath. They had reposted your posts as well as making ones of their owns in celebration of you. Words of praise about your dedication and hard work.

You realized that even though they couldn't give you the support you needed as readers, they supported you blindly. You could have written absolute garbage, but they would still support you.

You talked about how many people liked your book and wanted pictures and to sign their copies.

Then came the question you had been rehearsing since you had texted them a week ago. They both shared a look before Meredith finally asked.

"How are you holding up?" You gave a half-smile and a shrug. So perfectly rehearsed in your head you were ready to deliver your lies lines.

"I'm fine," you lied. "It was just fading so there isn't much of a difference, I guess." Not necessarily a lie. "We just wanted different things and were on different paths in life." Not a lie. "It's for the best." You weren't sure if that last one was a lie or not just yet.

They both shared a passing look before returning their gazes back to you. "You know you can come to us about this stuff." Tabitha's hand reached across the table, placing a hand on top of yours.

"It wasn't going to work out." You added. "Situations like that don't and I should have known better."

"A situation?" Meredith asked. "When have you ever called it a situation?"

"It always was one."

"I love you enough to call bullshit." She raised her eyebrow at you, crossing her arms over her chest. "You loved them and you need to stop pretending this is easy."

"You're a divorce lawyer, Mere," You reminded. "You see marriages fall apart every day."

"I do. I get to see from across the table how a woman is still willing to take her cheating arse of a husband back. So the fact that you went from on cloud nine with all of them to not even talking about the break up is concerning to say the least."

"Tabitha," you looked at your only ally left. "A little back up would be nice."

"I'm with her on this one." She confirmed. "You loved them. Not that I cared, but if you weren't talking about books or the shop, you were talking about them. What you did, where you went. How they fucked you."

"I think I'll miss that part the most." Mere sighed. "I lived vicariously through you."

"You know you could actually date people." Tabitha suggested.

"I'd rather live with chronic carpal tunnel than a man." You almost choked on your tea. If you were wearing pearls you would have used the comedic relief of clutching them to break the awkwardness of the current topic of conversation.

"That should be put on a t-shirt." You suggested

"I wouldn't mind it on a welcome mat to be honest." Tabitha added.

"But in all seriousness, cut this bullshit." Meredith gave you an sympathetic smile. "We're here. Good, bad and ugly."

You returned her smile. "I know."

You had closed up shop for the evening. Your lunch had gone longer than expected so now you were left doing the dishes and clean up during closing. You were setting the last cup on the drying rack when you heard the front door chime.

Shit.

You must have forgotten to lock the door when you turned the sign.

“I’m sorry!” You apologized, making your way out of the back break area and to the front of the store. “We’re-”

“Closed.” He said, locking the door behind him. “I saw the sign.”

[sneakyparsnipslicer]

The Cosplayer

For a few years now Glen had been going to an unofficial event for a game he loved. It all began around 2021, he'd seen his friend Kieran talking about it on Twitter; a gathering of fans of the game in a town he'd be able to get to. The first time he'd gone to the event, he was able to meet many other fans of the game, recognising some content creators he'd interacted with before online. In the midst of them all, there was one guy that stuck out to him; a cosplayer dressed up as one of the main protagonists.

Glen had seen a fair few cosplayers at places like Comic Con, but this guy was good. Very handsome. From what Glen could gather from others was he was a professional cosplayer that went to many official events hosted by the company that made the games they all enjoyed. Glen knew then and there that he'd have no chance getting to know the guy, but all the same he could admire him from afar.

The next two years were the same, Glen went to the event, so did Mr. 'Geno-Morphus' as his username online had him called. It was clear Geno had a band of friends he'd always hang out with at the events, some of which were shared with the people Glen had come to befriend over the years, though Glen never got the chance to meet Geno, they could never seem to be in the same place at the same time. Each year Glen would see him co-hosting a cosplay panel with another professional cosplayer. Glen had thought they were together until Kieran told him that Geno was actually gay, but also married. Glen had never felt his hopes rise and fall so fast, but he accepted the fact.

In late 2023 a small group of the event goers organised a little meetup in a town a little further away, and Glen was asked by Kieran if he'd like to go. Hanging out with the people at the events had fast become a highlight of each year and so he jumped at the chance. They'd all be meeting up early 2024, granted it wouldn't be as big as the main event, but it would be nice to see the friends all the same.

The journey took a while and Glen had just journeyed up following a night shift, so after a little nap at the hotel he'd booked a room at, he went down to the bar to meet up with Kieran, who waved to him. "Kieran! So good to see you!" cried Glen sweeping his friend into a hug. "Hey mate, good to see you too! Did you get a good rest?" Kieran asked, reclaiming his seat. Glen grabbed a seat next to him. "Oh yeah, NEVER travelling 3 hours after an 8 hour night shift again! Had to stop at Costa and get a shot of Espresso" Glen shuddered. Kieran chuckled, taking a sip of his whiskey. "Ah right, be right back, just gonna get a drink!" said Glen quickly, he headed to the bar and soon returned to the table with a pint of whiskey also. They both said "Cheers!" and clinked their glasses.

"So, is anyone else here yet?" Glen asked. "Well Caitlin says she'll be along in a few hours, Jack's here but he's taking a rest, he has come up from London of course" started Kieran. "Of course, I don't blame him" said Glen, Kieran nodded in agreement. "Fred and Kim are on their way with little Sammy, but their train's been held up" said Kieran. "Oh no, that sucks. Really hope Sammy won't kick up a fuss. Remember that time in 2022 when he had to be taken out the room?" asked Glen laughing. Kieran smiled, chuckling. "Yeah I think they want to forget about that, so don't bring it up!" said Kieran. Glen took a sip of his whiskey and gave him a thumb up. They both sat and talked a while, updating eachother and how life's been since the previous event, Kieran was surprised to learn that Glen had been invited to a Halloween party by Jack that had been hosted by another couple they knew based in London. As the night went on more people did arrive, drinks were had and to Glen's surprise, who should show up but Geno-Morphus. It seems he didn't live too far away and had actually decided to come along earlier in the week. Glen didn't quite know what to say. It wasn't like he didn't know who Geno was, but he wasn't exactly acquainted with him. Geno went to get a drink and came back, sitting next to Glen.

"How're you doing mate?" Geno asked Glen, smiling at him. "Oh you know, just happy to be here, happy to see everyone" Glen smiled. "We haven't spoken before have we? I know I've seen you at the events but I think I've been a bit to busy with the event organisers" said Geno, looking Glen up and down. "Yeah, I totally get that. Must be tough to get a moment to yourself at times like that" Glen replied. "Oh mate, you know it! So what's your name?" Geno asked. "Oh, I'm Glen, love your work!" Glen chuckled. "Cheers man, I really appreciate it. My name's Wesley in case you didn't know" said Wesley, offering his hand to shake, at which Glen accepted it. Glen and Wesley chatted a lot about their jobs, Glen joking about the actual shit he has to clean up at the cinema, Wesley talking about his cosplaying schedule. Eventually the group carried chatting til past midnight when the last call bell was rung. Some of the people took their drinks back to their rooms, Glen found himself walking with Wesley to Caitlin's room, she'd had way too much to drink and so they made sure she got back to her room and into bed safe. Glen left a glass of water on the side table for her and they both left. "Guess it's just us now Glen, fancy hanging at mine for a bit?" Wesley asked. "Sure, sounds good!" said Glen. They both headed to Wesley's room which was a floor above Caitlin's. Getting in, Glen saw that Wesley had brought his laptop, which was still on.

"Ah, thought I'd closed it. Oh well, wanna hear the playlist I'm putting together for my birthday party?" Wesley asked. Glen nodded. He pressed play and 'A Little Piece of Heaven' by Avenged Sevenfold started playing, Glen started laughing. "Oh man, no way! I haven't heard this song since 2012!" cried Glen, they both had fun singing the main chorus. "God you are so down to Earth Glen! How have we not spoken sooner?" asked Wesley, laying down on his bed looking at him. Glen shrugged. "I guess I always thought you were on another level. I mean we have guys that stream the games, podcasters, people making custom levels and I come along like 'Hey, I clean toilets at a cinema!'" said Glen. Wesley laughed. "I like you Glen, you're a good laugh" smiled Wesley. Just then, 'The Best' by Tina Turner came on. "Oh Tina Turner, you have great taste Wes!" said Glen, closing his eyes and swaying to the music. "Yeah, love Tina. Got to see her and Bryan Adams perform 'It's Only Love' back in 1985, God that was a good night" said Wesley looking at the ceiling. "1985?! Fuck man I wasn't even born!" Glen laughed. Wesley nodded sadly. "Yeah, this birthday coming up I'll be 47" said Wesley. Glen's jaw dropped. "No way are you 46!" said Glen in disbelief. Wesley shrugged. "It is what it is" he said. "But you're fine as fuck!" said Glen, clapping a hand over his mouth, realising what he'd just said. Wesley looked at him and laughed. "You really think so?" he asked, smiling. "Well if we're being honest, yeah. Your husband's a lucky guy, whoever he is" said Glen. Glen fell silent for a moment. "Maybe I should be getting back to my room now, sorry Wesley" said Glen, standing up and moving to the door. Wesley stood up and put a hand on Glen's shoulder. "It's ok, it's sweet of you to be honest, you've been so open tonight and I really appreciate that" said Wesley, standing before him, smiling.

Glen's mind was racing, he'd long had a crush on Wesley, he just never imagined he'd ever be in a room alone with him. Wesley moved in and kissed Glen gently on the lips. Glen didn't resist at first, but he pulled away and shook his head. "Sorry Wes, this isn't right, you're married" Glen began, Wesley put a hand gently on Glen's cheek. "Hey it's alright! We have a bit of an open relationship. Polyamorous, you know. He'll always come first of course" Wesley explained. "Well, unless you cum first, right?" Glen chuckled, then hid his face in his palm. Wesley cackled at the joke, pulling Glen's hand away and kissing him again. Glen could feel his dick harden, he'd wanted Wesley for such a long time now and this was it. This was where he got to know Wesley intimately. Wesley pulled back and smiled, taking his jacket off. Glen began to unbutton his shirt and Wesley pulled his t-shirt off. They both looked at eachother shirtless, next moment they were in eachother's arms, making out, hands on eachother's backs, Glen running a hand through Wesley's hair and Wesley slipping a hand below Glen's jeans to feel his ass. They both pulled away, panting. "You've been wanting this a while, haven't you?" asked Wesley, grinning. "Oh if you could only know!" said Glen breathily, rubbing his hands over Wesley's well-defined pecs. Wesley wrapped his arms around Glen and thrust him onto the bed, sitting atop him, beginning to unbuckle his own belt. Glen watched in anticipation as Wesley threw his belt away and began to pull down his trousers and boxers, revealing his girthy dick. "Am I living up to the dream?" asked Wesley. "I'll say! Fucking hell!" said Glen, reaching out to grab the shaft, beginning to pump it. Wesley threw his head back and began to moan, Glen sat up and began to suck his dick. Wesley looked back at Glen and smiled, pushing him back down on the bed. He stood up and kicked off his trousers and boxers. "Here" he said, laying back down on Glen, grinding his crotch into him whilst kissing him on the neck.

Glen cried out in orgasmic ecstasy as he wrapped his arms around Wesley's back. "I want you inside me!" Glen said, and Wesley stopped, they both stared eye to eye for a moment. "Well now I have your permission…" Wesley said sinisterly and proceeded to force Glen down stronger than before, grinding his crotch into Glen furiously, the sound of squeaking, squelching rubber filling the room and Glen moaned out. To his surprise, Wesley was beginning to sink into his own body, Glen put his hands on Wesley's ass, helping force him in. Glen had never felt more aroused and his sense of feeling was beginning to diminish, this absolute stud of a man was fucking his way in and it was amazing. He didn't know this was even possible, but somehow, he felt he'd needed it.

Under Glen's skin, Wesley was shifting himself, moving his arms and legs to fit correctly, lining up his face with Glen's. He unbuckled Glen's belt and pulled down his jeans and briefs, grabbing Glen's expanding dick and choking it, ensuring his own dick was stretching nicely into Glen's, using both hands he jacked off working up a sweat until finally he let out two, thick squirts of cum, laying back on the bed, panting. Glen's body was now in Wesley's control. He leaped off the bed and ran his hands down his slippery body. He walked over to the mirror and looked at himself. There was no trace of his old face at all, he was effectively Glen with a bit more musculature than before. "Well I've had fursuits and morphsuits, but you Glen, you've got to be my first bodysuit!" Wesley said out loud in Glen's voice. Hearing Glen's voice escape his mouth only made him smile, this was perfect. Wesley had grown bored of continual convention cosplay, it paid good, but required him to be available, never really leaving time for himself. Glen was to be Wesley's final cosplay, he'd announce Geno-Morphus's retirement on the socials later, and who knows, maybe his husband will enjoy Glen too!

[antialiasis]

Chess (2018 Kennedy Center revival)

So I was just going to briefly mention all the other different versions of Chess I have consumed in the big essay post I’ve been writing on and off, but there was just too much to say about this one which made it really awkward to fit it in, so fine, here is another individual chesspost. Nearly 7500 words of rambling under the cut, oh my god.

This production represents the latest official full overhaul of Chess. It sports an all-new book written by Danny Strong, also known as the actor who played Jonathan on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which is some whiplash (Sarah Michelle Gellar is apparently a big Chess fan, too). It was later staged again as a concert with some further modifications in 2021, but I listened to an audio bootleg of the 2018 version. (There exist some videos of it online, but only scattered bits.)

The Story Changes

This version has London’s basic plot structure with the distinctive two chess tournaments (this time four years apart, which is neither the original number nor the actual number of years between world chess championships), but rearranges Act I, adds a lot more quippy dialogue and swearing, reinterprets the characters, and recenters real-world politics in the whole thing — sort of the exact inverse of what Chess på svenska did with the material. It opens with “Difficult and Dangerous Times” to set the scene in the Cold War and features the Arbiter narrating with sardonic omniscient commentary between songs/scenes throughout, which does feel a bit more consistent than the Arbiter suddenly having a narrator role for the duration of one song in Act II.

All the main characters in this version are reinterpreted with significant new background context, which is a very interesting way to rewrite it that I definitely dig in principle. For example, Florence’s first scene here involves Walter threatening her with deportation from the US unless she can make Freddie behave for the duration of the tournament. Most versions of Chess make the political scheming very symbolic and vague — exchanges of mostly unnamed political prisoners or handwaved concessions — but this version is noticeably specific, with specific nuclear arms treaty negotiations that the CIA believes would be negatively affected if Freddie keeps openly antagonizing the Soviets. She tells Walter to go fuck himself (told you it adds more swearing) and that nobody can control Freddie Trumper, but ultimately she doesn’t have much of a choice but to reluctantly play along. This addition recontextualizes her character and her interactions with Freddie in Act I a fair bit — it’s pretty significant, after all, that she is under threat and may lose her home if she doesn’t somehow control what she really can’t.

Meanwhile, Freddie himself here suffers from a full-on mental illness which he takes medication for. Walter asserts on a phone call early that they’re dealing with a “genuine paranoid schizophrenic”, but then later calls him a “bipolar bitch”; I take the blatant inconsistency combined with the obviously insulting nature of these remarks to mean probably we’re not meant to take either of them at face value, but these two lines from Walter are the only ones suggesting any specific diagnosis. (I unfortunately suspect Danny Strong didn’t have a specific condition in mind and research it so much as just slap him with a Generic Ambiguous Mental Illness for which he takes Pills.) One way or another, Freddie’s ambiguous mental illness gives him bouts of intense paranoia, driving him to do things like trashing his and Florence’s hotel room to look for listening devices at one point. Florence keeps insistently, frustratedly telling him to just take his goddamn pills even as he’s in genuine distress; it’s pretty uncomfortable, and also definitely one of those things that are at least more human when his episodes could cost her the only home she has: she’s desperate and in distress too.

(I do kind of feel as if this whole bit would make more sense if Florence and Freddie had a strictly business relationship here to start with, instead of being explicitly portrayed as a couple — when they have a committed intimate partnership going on, one would think Florence getting deported would also be pretty obviously significant for Freddie, and Florence quietly playing along with the CIA and crossing her fingers that she can indirectly coax him into behaving with seemingly no serious thought given to whether it’d be better to just tell him why he needs to stop feels stranger. The scene with Walter sounds like Walter/the CIA are not aware of their romantic relationship and Florence wants to keep it that way — they both refer to Freddie strictly by his full/last name and as “her player” — so I guess Walter would have assumed she wouldn’t tell him, but surely the calculus would at least look a bit different to Florence herself. Even if it just prompts her to realize Freddie would still be liable to react by becoming even more erratic and vocal about his paranoias, that feels like it’d be significant enough, at least for her feelings on this relationship going forward, that it never actually coming up or being suggested within the story starts to feel marginally odd. Not a major complaint, though, just a bit of overthinking.)

Freddie in general is noticeably portrayed much more sympathetically here than usual throughout. Where other versions of Chess tend to present Freddie as an attention-seeking drama queen who plays up ludicrous arbitrary demands for money and press, here things like his walkout from the first chess game are made to come from a much more genuine place: he has major sensory issues and is intolerably thrown off balance by distracting noise and lights (which really are deliberately arranged to sabotage him). “Florence Quits”, the song with the misogyny verse, usually reads as being triggered by his jealousy and inability to accept that Anatoly’s just playing better than him, but this version makes it feel more about how he feels persistently gaslit about the ways he’s being sabotaged than anything else: he accuses the Soviets of having a hypnotist in the front row to throw him off (which they do, and Freddie literally saw him and recognized him) and Florence of working for the CIA (which she has been, if not by choice) while they deny it and brush it off, and the tense opening notes of the song play under him desperately yelling “You’re lying to me! You’re all lying to me!” (Which doesn’t make the misogyny okay, obviously, but it does make it feel more like a desperate, paranoia-fueled lashout where you don’t know how much he really means all that.)

When he subsequently forfeits the match against Anatoly, he makes a speech that sounds absolutely despairing where he says chess has been taking a toll on his health since he first became champion at eleven years old, and he doesn’t feel he can trust anyone, even himself. In Act II, before “The Interview”, he even actually apologizes to Florence for how he treated her; heck, his motivation for going so hard after Anatoly in “The Interview” itself is portrayed as being that he is genuinely disgusted by Anatoly leaving his family so callously (which is a lot of fun given Freddie’s own issues about his father leaving him and his mother behind) and wants Florence to hear the truth about what a despicable man he is, which is still unpleasant to her but clearly comes from a much more sympathetic place than either simple spite or reluctantly complying with Walter’s orders.

As for Anatoly… he was taken from his parents when he was a small child to be groomed by Molokov and the KGB into becoming a chess champion, and he’s well aware from his very first scene that the state had killed the previous Soviet champion after Freddie unseated him. (Freddie excoriates the press early on for not covering why the former champion disappeared off the face of the Earth because they’re too busy bashing Freddie, which sounds like paranoia, but the narrative has actually told us Freddie is right and they really did execute him but no one but Freddie seems to notice or care — another way in which Freddie is jarringly sympathetic here. In general, Freddie is portrayed as paranoid, and the other characters treat him like he’s just paranoid, but the narrative keeps proving Freddie’s paranoia right.)

Anatoly, though, isn’t afraid of the same fate, because “The state cannot execute a man… that is already dead.” (This general sentiment could press my buttons, but it just feels super corny and melodramatic the way it’s presented and performed, especially with that dramatic pause in there.) He is deeply depressed, thinks his marriage to Svetlana is fake and his kids hate him, and says repeatedly in Act I that he hates chess and just wants to be free of it, though he also describes a particular championship match he watched as the only time he’s felt love. At the end of Act I, he defects to the UK along with Florence as usual (his defection fully blows up the treaty Walter was worrying about despite Anatoly’s victory, so Florence’s refugee visa is indeed revoked, and that’s why they end up in the UK). Theoretically he should be free of chess now, but it bothers him intensely that he only won by forfeit (here they never finished playing a single match), resulting in him returning to defend his world champion title, and win it ‘properly’, four years later in Bangkok against Viigand.

Unknown to Anatoly, by Act II, after the election of Ronald Reagan, the Soviets are extra on edge and believe a planned NATO military exercise is actually the US mobilizing for a full-scale invasion of the Soviet Union. Walter tries to convince Molokov it’s just an exercise; Molokov insists unfortunately the generals are going to believe it’s an invasion and be ready to retaliate unless Viigand wins the championship (if Viigand wins they will take it as a ‘sign of goodwill’ from the US, which will change their minds on the apparent invasion because, uhh, unclear). Throughout Act II, the larger stakes in this version are set up to be that if Anatoly should win the match, the Soviets are liable to start a nuclear war.

Does Walter go to Anatoly to frankly tell him that apparently the Soviets have lost their minds and are basically threatening nuclear war over a chess match and try to convince him to throw on that basis? Does Molokov realize that if he’s telling Walter to go rig the chess match so the generals will call it off, he clearly doesn’t actually believe that the US is about to invade, so probably he should be trying to convince the generals not to go for the nuclear option himself? No, of course not; this is Chess, so we have to have the songs that are in Chess. So instead, Walter and Molokov just go through the same indirect schemes as usual to unbalance Anatoly and convince him to throw the game, with some minor twists. Molokov actually actively threatens Svetlana with being sent to a gulag to die if she doesn’t convince her husband to return — and Svetlana does straight-up tell Anatoly this, only for Anatoly to brush her off and tell her they won’t do that. Florence learns the same from Walter and initially dismisses him, and fully doesn’t believe him about her father being alive, but does ultimately sympathize with Svetlana and worry for her, which I like. But Anatoly is obsessed with winning this championship above all else and fully convinced Molokov is bluffing.

In the end, he plays the game to win, oblivious to the nuclear threat; as he checkmates, Walter makes a desperate phone call to his superiors to call off the training exercise. (Why he didn’t just do that immediately when Molokov told him the Soviets were taking it as an attack, instead of spending all this time playing along with this elaborate chess mind game, is a mystery.) Only… they don’t, and the Soviets watch with their fingers on the nuclear button, but ultimately they don’t fire. The Arbiter’s narration informs us this was the closest the world ever came to destruction, even closer than the Cuban missile crisis, and that this then served as the wake-up call that prompted negotiations about nuclear deescalation.

Anatoly, meanwhile, returns to the Soviet Union as usual, this time successfully exchanging himself for Florence’s imprisoned father, and Walter gives Florence and her father visas so that they can return to the US together.

Broad thoughts

I feel profoundly weird about the mixing of real-life history and completely fictitious alternate history here — you can’t just assert in narration that the fictional events in your musical were what taught the US and Soviet Union that maybe they should just talk to each other, while making a specific comparison to an actual thing that really happened, after spending the musical asserting that the Soviets murdered chess players for losing the world championship. I think mixing history and fiction can work fine if we can imagine that for all we know this is what really happened, or alternatively that this is what might have happened in some alternate universe similar to but distinct from ours. But here, we’re creating highly significant and publicized events that are obviously fictional, making it absurd to pretend this is what really happened, while also presenting these fictional alternate-universe events in objective hindsight narration alongside real events that happened in the real world and as a supposed cause of them. This ending narration just feels like it’s weirdly trying to have its cake and eat it too.

All in all, though, I think this is definitely one of the most interesting efforts to rewrite Chess. It definitely has something it’s going for, there are several neat ideas in it, and in particular I appreciate that it tries to give extra attention to the characters, more context to their actions, and more messy, humanized depth, inner conflict, and complicated motivators and stressors behind what they do. I genuinely enjoy what it’s doing with Freddie in Act I, in particular, even though it feels somehow both jarringly like it’s woobifying him (I genuinely think he ends up coming across as the most sympathetic of the three mains here, with so much of his erratic, childish and unpleasant behaviour being recontextualized to be more understandable and the way his hatred of the Soviets keeps being validated by the narrative) and like the narrative is weirdly harsh on him (this much more sympathetic Freddie who suffers from an actual mental illness is treated like absolute irredeemable scum by every other character including the fourth-wall-leaning narrator, even more than usual).

I also think the restructuring of Act I was pretty solid for the most part, though there’s definitely some awkwardness, like how Freddie’s expanded encounters with the press sort of clumsily repeat the same beats a bit. On the one hand, I can get what Danny Strong was going for in choosing to introduce everyone first and then go into “Merano” instead of doing several minutes of narrative meaninglessness before the main characters are even introduced; on the other hand, that kind of just half-defeats the sole original purpose of “Merano”, which is to provide a very jaunty more stereotypical musical theater song so that Freddie can be introduced via barging in and interrupting it with his very different vibe, and if I were Danny Strong I would definitely have just removed “Merano” at that point. But the “Difficult and Dangerous Times” opening works great, and it nicely avoids the “almost nothing of note happens for nearly forty minutes” and “several meaningless fluff songs in a row” problems of the London script, introducing conflict and stakes early and keeping the narrative going.

Ultimately, though, a lot of what it’s trying to do doesn’t quite come together to me, and some of it is variously misguided or just strange.

The Politics

To start with, I can definitely get wanting to emphasize the role of Cold War politics in the narrative, and I basically enjoyed the increased political focus and higher stakes in Act I — but I don’t think making Anatoly unwittingly almost start a nuclear war works here, or fits properly into this narrative at all. The Soviet generals have to be holding idiot balls; Molokov has to be holding an idiot ball; Walter has to be holding the biggest idiot ball of all; and most importantly, the ludicrously massive stakes being pasted on top of the match despite none of the main characters even knowing about it means we zoom thoroughly out of the character drama of the situation: “Endgame” just becomes grotesquely trivial with that hanging over it without Anatoly’s knowledge, rendering the actual drama of the climactic song completely irrelevant to what’s really at stake.

I also dislike, in a version that emphasizes the politics, how distinctly slanted it is. One of the things that I like in the London strain of Chess is that Walter and Molokov are both slimy, manipulative bastards in different ways, both sides’ political actors cruelly toying with the lives of the players for their own impersonal ends; the righteousness of each state as a whole doesn’t really matter to this story, only the impact that the whole conflict and the mutual scheming has on the main characters’ lives. But in this version, the Soviets and Molokov are cartoon villains who literally abduct children to force them into chess camp and then murder them if they don’t win the world championship, while Walter may be a condescending asshole who’s willing to threaten Florence but is distinctly the ‘good guy’ in his interactions with Molokov, which comprise most of his screentime, especially in Act II. Walter even gets a humanizing moment where he explains he has a nine-year-old son and has nightmares about him suffering a nuclear winter (Molokov, meanwhile, tells Walter in Act I that Anatoly is like a son to him but could not more obviously not care about Anatoly at all when he proudly presents his new champion material Viigand in Act II). I just find it really detrimental to Chess’s narrative to make it about Soviets Bad, US Good, and more so the more you focus on that — to whatever extent you highlight the politics in this story, it should be done in a way that’s about how the political machinations of the Cold War impact the character drama at the center of it, and it’s distracting when instead you make it into a loosely related B-plot about Walter’s desperate diplomatic efforts to stop the evil Soviets from destroying the world with their shortsightedness.

I think a successful more politically-focused Chess could definitely exist, but I think it’s always going to function best if Walter and Molokov feel at least narratively like just about equal scumbags. It’s not even impossible to imagine nuclear weapons and mutually assured destruction coming up in the course of it — but it needs to be using that to make us enraged at all of this on behalf of Anatoly/Florence/Svetlana/Freddie, not enraged at Molokov on behalf of Walter.

The Character Work

Meanwhile, I do basically like the setup and recontextualization done for all of the main characters in Act I, but unfortunately none of them quite delivered as well as I hoped in the end.

Let’s start with Florence. I actually quite liked the deportation threat, putting Florence herself under personal pressure in a way she usually isn’t. I dig characters being put through the wringer and making decisions under stress. But the story doesn’t quite do anything with that other than using it as silent context behind her early interactions with Freddie and technically as the reason she and Anatoly move to the UK offscreen. We don’t, for instance, ever see Freddie learn that that’s why she moved or that he was unwittingly indirectly responsible for that, or otherwise address that in any way, and as far as Florence in the rest of the story is concerned, it might as well never have happened — we never see her having any kinds of feelings on it, or even confronting Walter about that nasty little part he played in her life when she meets him again (she doesn’t even comment on it when he offers her the chance to go back to the US at the end!). To an extent this is, of course, because Florence being deported was never originally part of the story of Chess, so of course it doesn’t come up in any song or have any significant specific impact on the core series of events — but if you’re going to add it in at all, you really ought to be taking that somewhere in the rest of your additions that isn’t just briefly handwaving that she gets to go back at the end.

Like Long Beach, this version brings Florence’s father back at the end — but unfortunately, it feels really unearned here. Compared to other London variants, it actually ditches the bit of “The Deal” where Florence is tangibly emotional and riled up by Walter’s offer of her father — she fully dismisses the idea of her father being alive as bullshit, and instead it’s Svetlana who moves her to have doubts when she sees her begging Anatoly to return on video and realizes Svetlana still loves him. I do really like that, by itself, and it’s probably my favorite thing about this version’s portrayal of Florence; her empathizing with Svetlana to the point of feeling genuinely guilty for having taken her husband from her, and believing maybe the right thing to do would be if he went back to Svetlana for her sake, is actually very good, serves as a great lead-in to “I Know Him So Well”, and makes Florence’s character feel far more sympathetic in a production where she’s otherwise pretty lacking in that department. But it leaves us with no emotional connection whatsoever to Florence’s father — we’ve only heard her mention him twice before Walter’s offer, very briefly, in Act I, and not really with any sense that she misses or is all that invested in him. Seeing her reunite with him means nothing for her or her arc; it just comes out of left field, and winds up being another thing slanting this version towards Good Guy Walter, Bad Guy Molokov, what with Walter offering her visas back to the US for both of them seemingly out of the goodness of his heart.

It would have been possible to actually build up to this in a way that would make it satisfying. Florence and Anatoly have several conversations; we could have used some of those to have Florence actually talk about her father and how she feels about him being gone, and that could have been part of building up her relationship with Anatoly, made it meaningful that Anatoly’s parting gift to her is to ensure her father’s return. I suppose Danny Strong’s thought process may have been that if he built up Florence’s father too much, that should become her main concern once Walter brings that into it, and he wanted her concern to be about Svetlana instead, which I guess is fair; it also means Anatoly only really has to dismiss the potential harm to one other person in his obsession with winning the game. But if you do make the decision to not build up her father, then bringing her father back is not an ending that makes any sense, and there was no need to do this — they could have easily cut out all suggestion of her father being alive entirely and it would only have made things smoother. I think the only reason she gets her father back in this one is in some hasty effort to make Florence’s ending less bleak, but because it doesn’t have any emotional resonance, it’s just not the right way to do that here.

Speaking of Florence and Anatoly, the romance here… once again has some neat, interesting things it’s going for but doesn’t quite come together as a whole. The two of them do have some actual conversations where they bond a bit, which is already a marked improvement over the default London script — but their very first conversation features Anatoly asserting out of nowhere that Florence has “a way of brightening his spirit”, despite not even knowing her, which isn’t super convincing and just comes off kind of creepy-awkward. Florence asserts a few times that he’s sweet and kind, but we don’t really see much of him actually coming across as sweet or kind — his lines tend to be either melodramatic or sardonic moping interspersed kind of jarringly with awkward jokes. He’s less charming or sweet and more like a lonely, kicked dog, which is fine if Florence is into that but doesn’t quite make her descriptions of why she likes him ring true.

This production actually goes back to the concept album a bit when it comes to Florence and Anatoly — namely, more than political manipulation and external pressures forcibly tearing them apart from the outside, there’s a more substantial internal tension between them as Anatoly genuinely simply prioritizes winning the chess match over her and dismisses her as she tries to question him about Svetlana. The two approaches can both work but do different things for the narrative; this internal approach puts more focus on the personal conflict and character drama and makes the relationship more interesting, which is definitely good, and in principle I think this is built up to in a pretty solid way here — Anatoly, raised to become a chess champion to the exclusion of all else, being maddened by the notion of not actually beating Freddie in Act I and needing to prove he deserves the championship to himself in Act II before he can feel “free from chess” works as a coherent reason for him to be so strikingly, unhealthily obsessive about it.

But I think the biggest problem is that Florence and Anatoly individually don’t hit well enough as characters to create investment in them. Florence is ultimately not developed enough and mostly just acts kind of unpleasant, especially to Freddie, all the way up until that Svetlana bit in Act II. More importantly, I just can’t like or understand or sympathize with Anatoly at all, beyond recognizing that core of what his arc is going for. Part of it is probably down to the writing of his lines, which I’m just not a fan of in general. I already named one example from his first scene. Here’s how Anatoly and Florence’s very first conversation starts:

ANATOLY: It’s not his fault. This game drives us all crazy. FLORENCE: I’m fine. Aren’t you even a little bit scared? ANATOLY: Of Trumper? FLORENCE: No, that they’ll kill you if you lose. ANATOLY: Oh. To quote the great Leo Tolstoy, “Even in the valley of the shadow of death, two and two do not make six.” FLORENCE: What does that mean? ANATOLY: I don’t know exactly, but it is very Russian.

I just don’t find this dialogue very convincing. Why is he reciting a dramatic irrelevant quote if he doesn’t know what it means and just thinks it’s “very Russian”? It feels like a generic quippy exchange off a snarky TV show. Does Anatoly use humour to cope with his situation? Not really; this is pretty much the only time he says anything that might be taken as that. This feels like a joke that’s there only to get a laugh out of the audience, not because Anatoly would actually tell it — and consequently, it doesn’t tell us anything real about Anatoly. Meanwhile, Florence responds to this with “Oh, you’re funny,” as if that’s one of the reasons she falls for him when I would decidedly not name that as a character trait he has. I feel like most of his dialogue just doesn’t have a great sense of character — in stark contrast to Freddie, who oozes character. I can’t get a good sense of who he is and how he thinks. He’s just there. And this also makes it harder to see what Florence sees in him and believe in the relationship.

Moreover, this Anatoly just comes across as kind of a terrible person, not in the fun coherent intentional way Freddie is a terrible person but in a flat, confusing and kind of unintentional-seeming way. Svetlana here is actually really sympathetic, with lovely little additional bits of dialogue that make her feelings hit harder (her voice as she tells Anatoly that “You left us!” breaks my heart), and this is possibly my favorite version of Svetlana in any Chess. But Anatoly is really, really terrible to her, by which I don’t even mean the cheating on her but the bit where he keeps angrily insisting to her face that she never loved him and she brainwashed their children to hate him and of course they’re not going to kill her (hey, Anatoly, guess who’s already well aware that the Soviet government in this universe is not above executing people over chess?).

And even that could be made understandable, given his situation — he could just be in hard denial about it because the thought of them having been suffering with him gone and being punished for his actions is so horrific he just shuts it down — but there’s never any sense that that’s what’s really going on. We don’t see him privately upset about the possibility later, for instance — he just keeps insisting the same and dismissing Svetlana to Florence, too. We know it’s not that it’s true — we see Svetlana admit to Molokov that even though he ruined her life and she never wants to see him again she still loves him, and we hear her sing “Someone Else’s Story” and “I Know Him So Well”. Nor do we ever get any hint at exactly what Svetlana or his kids did to make him think this of them, if anything (his own kids!). Anatoly just seems to sort of bitterly, adamantly believe this for no reason at all. And that makes it impossible to empathize with. Okay, sure, Anatoly, you were taken from your family as a child, but that really doesn’t even start to explain any of this. There could have been ways of making it feel at least believable, tragic in a deeply fucked-up way, but the story here just doesn’t do the work. And once again, Anatoly being so unpleasant for no reason just makes it harder to feel at all invested in his relationship with Florence or sad when they part.

The best fix here isn’t quite obvious, and I can’t say I envy Danny Strong trying to put all his neat little ideas together and make them work. If Anatoly were to appear substantially conflicted about Svetlana and put any real stock in Molokov’s threat, that would render “Endgame”, where he doubles down anyway, kind of jarring and inexcusable as he’d be not just refusing to return to her but refusing to care if she is killed. So in order for this to properly work with “Endgame”, he probably does need to be very deep in denial about whether they’d really kill her. I think what I would do, if I were writing this plot where groomed-as-a-chess-champion Anatoly knows the Soviets killed Boris Ivanovich and they’ve threatened to kill Svetlana too, is to emphasize better how irrational Anatoly is being and try to show it more as a consequence of growing up among the constantly plotting KGB.

Let him go off on a proper paranoid rant to Florence about the reasons why he thinks Svetlana is just plotting against him, and some innocuous things he saw his kids do once that mean she brainwashed them. When Florence tries to challenge him on how batshit he sounds, he just storms out, saying she’s being taken in by their lies and just wants to sabotage him, and disappears — and she doesn’t see him again until he appears at the final game and plays this manic, desperate match while insisting to himself that Svetlana and Florence both just never understood him and hated his success. Afterwards, we can perhaps see him finally, quietly asking Molokov if they’re really going to kill her, showing that on some level he already knew the threat might be real and had just firmly blocked it out (in the actual ending as it is Molokov simply tells him unprompted that she really will be punished unless he comes back, and he just asks why with no addressing of his previous adamant insistence that that wouldn’t happen). His and Florence’s final conversation could then involve a bit more of a reckoning with that and with what his relationship with Svetlana was really like, through a more honest lens.

I’m actually pretty tickled by this scenario because that would really drive home a pretty fun parallel between Anatoly and Freddie — which in hindsight I think this version must in fact have been trying for, but didn’t quite do in a focused enough way for it to really hit. Anatoly and Freddie are both chess players with deeply abnormal childhoods and bouts of paranoia that cause them to behave in toxic ways, which ultimately drives Florence away from both of them.

This production shows the first chess game as the “Chess Game” instrumental playing under Freddie and Anatoly having alternating inner monologues about the game and their issues, deliberately drawing a comparison between the two of them; they both say they hate chess, that they don’t feel like real human beings. It’s not exactly subtle, but I liked the way this was used to build up their respective brain gremlins and was intrigued by the parallel being set up. I didn’t feel they ultimately did much with the parallel, though, because the story then didn’t really continue leaning into it much from there. By emphasizing this Anatoly’s paranoia as paranoia and not just as him legitimately thinking the marriage was never real and the KGB wouldn’t kill her, we could properly build the story around that parallel, and I would genuinely dig that.

The one place after the chess match where the actual thing does sort of try to get at the Anatoly/Freddie parallel again is in the dialogue scene that precedes “Endgame”. This scene is not sung (though it has the “Chess Game” instrumental in the background, which connects it neatly to that previous bit comparing the two of them), but it’s clearly based on “Talking Chess”: Freddie approaches Anatoly to tell him Viigand’s weakness lies in his King’s Indian Defense, and:

ANATOLY: Why are you helping me? FREDDIE: Jesus Christ! Am I the only one who cares about this game? ANATOLY: It’s more than a game now. There is so much more at stake than who wins or loses. FREDDIE: No! No, winning is everything. Fuck politics! Fuck the KGB, fuck the CIA, fuck them all! We are the ones who have dedicated our lives to chess. We are the ones who have given up everything for greatness — our childhoods, our sanity, our loves. Anatoly, we’ve sacrificed everything. They’ve sacrificed nothing. What’s the number one rule of a chess champion? ANATOLY: Play to win. FREDDIE: As long as you do that you can never lose, even if you do.

Much as I love “Talking Chess”, though, this on the surface similar scene just didn’t feel right in this context when I listened to it. In Anatoly’s last scene here, he told Florence firmly that he just wanted to win and that his marriage with Svetlana was never real and it’s all KGB mind games. Him going “It’s more than a game now, there’s so much more at stake” suddenly now comes out of nowhere — if he believes that now, it could only be if he actively reconsidered something offscreen, but he doesn’t say anything elaborating on what he’s thinking now or what he might have reconsidered or why, just that vague, generic line that contradicts everything he’s expressed up until this point. It’s another example of Anatoly’s dialogue just feeling really flat and meaningless to me — his lines here don’t say anything, just serve as vague filler to prompt Freddie onward. And because unlike London proper the setup leading up to this is all about him already being absolutely determined to win the game at all costs, this just feels redundant, unnecessary, going through the motions of something that’s in London without realizing that with the changed context it doesn’t quite make sense anymore.

I think that’s unfortunately the case with Freddie a bit here too. I enjoyed Act I’s quite different take on Freddie, and his establishing narration for Act II petulantly stating Anatoly won the championship last year “by forfeit, I might add”, and “The Interview” is recontextualized in a very fun way as I mentioned before — but after that it feels like Danny Strong doesn’t quite know what to do with Freddie anymore and just has him sort of arbitrarily go through the motions of London in a way that doesn’t necessarily hang together with everything he’s established of Freddie so far. It made sense that this Freddie, despite being decidedly hostile towards Walter and the CIA, conducted the interview to show Florence what a bastard Anatoly is — he’s not doing it for Walter, he’s got his own reasons to want to do it once Walter’s shown him the Svetlana video. But I find it a lot harder to swallow that this Freddie — whose usual problem seems to be that he’s compulsively blunt about how he really feels — would then be easily persuaded to play his part in “The Deal”, which involves exaggeratedly trying to be all buddy-buddy with Anatoly. Maybe if there was better setup around it, like with “The Interview” — but “The Deal” only has seconds of kind of half-assed leadup here, and from there it moves directly into “Pity the Child” (after a segue featuring the recording of Oppenheimer quoting the Bhagavad Gita, because nuclear war).

Freddie’s next appearance after that, then, is this “Talking Chess”-esque dialogue where he’s realized the parallel between the two of them, how they’ve both sacrificed everything for chess and the political schemers have sacrificed nothing and that’s why he should play to win. I can appreciate how the low point of “Pity the Child” would trigger that particular realization, contemplating how much he lost and sacrificed to achieve his status in the game and perhaps afterward realizing Anatoly is the only other person here who might understand that. That feels like it basically tracks and is interesting.

But… it also means that fun very specific contempt for Anatoly in particular based on him having left his family like Freddie’s own father did is just kind of… gone, I guess, or at least Freddie doesn’t consider it relevant enough for it to stop him from going out of his way to pep Anatoly up for the game with no mention or hint of it. (At least Freddie probably isn’t aware of the threats made against Svetlana in particular, so he doesn’t know Anatoly winning would shatter his family even further.) And we’ve lost the bit in “Talking Chess” where the notion of the political scheming actually leading to Viigand winning the match just personally offends Freddie because Viigand is not even that good; instead Freddie is just putting forward “Play to win” as some kind of general inviolable chess principle, which is kind of generic and not nearly as characterful, in my opinion. I’m not saying we ought to have had the “Viigand is mediocre” bit here — I don’t think it would quite fit in for this Freddie, whose feelings about chess itself are very conflicted and who is more concerned with showing up these political hacks who have sacrificed nothing while they sacrificed everything — but as a Freddie moment I would really have wanted to end on something stronger there than this vague assertion that “The number one rule of a chess champion is to play to win.”

Like in London, this is Freddie’s last substantial scene, but he does have a part in “Endgame”, and it’s also an interesting one: he gets Sixty-four squares / they’re the reason you know you exist (but not the preceding How straightforward the game…), but also a couple of other verses usually sung by the chorus, and the lines he gets are clearly very purposefully chosen to reinforce that final resolve regarding the sacrifices they’ve made for greatness, which I really appreciate: Listen to them shout / They saw you do it / In their minds no doubt / That you’ve been through it / Suffered for your art and in the end a winner and They’re completely enchanted / But they don’t take your qualities for granted / It isn’t very often / That the critics soften / Nonetheless, you’ve won their hearts / How can we begin to / Appreciate the work that you’ve put into / Your calling through the years / The blood, the sweat, the tears / The late, late, nights, the early starts?

All in all, Freddie is still definitely my favorite part of this Chess, but while the parallel itself is neat it’s too muddled and I find the second half of Act II pretty uneven for him. What would I do if I were writing this bit?

I’m not totally sure how I’d want to tackle “The Deal”, but as for the “Talking Chess”-but-not scene: I would ditch the bit where Freddie is trying to advise Anatoly on strategy and the bit where Anatoly is apparently suddenly not determined to play to win just so Freddie can then tell him he should be again. None of that is contributing anything in what this version has been building up. Instead, they just sort of bump into each other, Anatoly fresh off his paranoid rant to Florence about Svetlana, Freddie fresh off “Pity the Child” and the strange realization Anatoly might be the only person who’d understand him a little bit. At first they just sort of stop and look at each other. Freddie starts, guarded, with some kind of oblique accusatory prod about the leaving his family thing, which he still deeply resents.

Anatoly has calmed down now, but he tells him what he told Florence: that it was always a fake marriage, a fake family, that the video was just a lie set up for him by the KGB, that Svetlana had brainwashed their children to despise him.

This incidentally plays into Freddie’s existing preconceptions pretty well. He’s probably not instantly convinced but it checks out enough he’s willing to reluctantly leave it alone for now. Probably mutters something like, “Fucking Soviets.”

Anatoly says something like, aren’t you going to try to make me a deal to get me to throw the match and go back? Freddie says no, fuck that. Says the whole bit about how we are the ones who have dedicated ourselves to chess, who have sacrificed everything, childhood, sanity, love, and they’ve sacrificed nothing. Why should we listen to those CIA and KGB assholes? Draws out that parallel. The two of them are probably standing in symmetrical positions on the stage.

Anatoly just nods slowly, agreeing. “I would have beaten you.”

Freddie scoffs and says, “Dream on,” but not quite with the spiteful arrogance he would’ve said it in Act I.

Then they part, and we move on to “Endgame”. The scene isn’t about Freddie helping Anatoly, or about Freddie convincing Anatoly to go for the win; it’s about the Freddie/Anatoly parallel, about Freddie realizing it and in his profound loneliness finding a smidge of connection with this guy he hated because he’s the only one who sort of Gets It, and about showing how Anatoly’s conviction has developed since the first chess match where part of his inner monologue went, “I can’t beat him, he’s too good.” Anatoly is so ready to prove that he really is the world’s best chess player.

Conclusion

Man, this version is so interesting. It’s a mess, but it’s a fascinating mess with a bunch of tasty potential and a real sense that Danny Strong had some genuine thoughts on what the show was missing and how to rework it to fix that, even where his attempts were ultimately confused and don’t succeed. In some ways it’s the most me-core version of Chess and in other ways it’s deeply antithetical to me and in most all ways it’s trying to do something neat but does it in a flawed way. Special shoutout to this Freddie, who honestly deserves better than this Florence.

[callmewrinkles3]

Come Back, Be Here - DR3 x Fem!OC

Masterlist

Summary: One race until the end of the season, and one race until Dan gets to go home for New Years and six weeks of family time. But he and Emmy are facing their longest separation since 2018, and neither of them are facing the truth of what it means.

Words: 7.2k

Warnings: Abu Dhabi 2021, angst (it’s this series what do you expect), explicit smut (18+ only pls!), mentions of breaking laws in Middle Eastern countries.

AN: We had to share something for the DannyRic GP, and why not the moment that started the downward spiral for these two? We are aware that they probably wouldn’t get in trouble for being physically affectionate in public, but Em sticks to the rules and is a worst case scenario person so here we are. We hope you enjoy! Alex and Cíara xx

December, 2021

This leg of the race calendar was punishing. It didn’t give you a moment to breathe, three double headers in a row. And hardest of all for Dan, the last three races were in the Middle East.

He’d learned more about the human rights side of things, but he’d never consider himself well educated on it. He’d talked to other drivers, looked online, all of that. But on a purely selfish level Middle Eastern races meant that he and Em were back to their old pattern of separate hotel rooms, one of them slipping out of the others at the crack of dawn so they weren’t caught sharing. It was stupid and illogical and he missed the feeling of getting to wake up slowly with her half sprawled across him, of soft kisses and slow sex to get ready for the day.

Instead it was mumbled goodbyes and kisses on her forehead. Qatar wasn’t too bad, they finished the race and got to head back to Europe. He spent more time on the sim, trying to get to grips with how the car reacted and bring back some of the magic from Monza. And then he’d go home and open up the door of that little flat to see Em on the couch still working away, or she’d arrive in just after him from Blake’s with a smile and a “I was asked to remind you the walls are thin, please don’t make me scream tonight again.” She always blushed and he grinned, kissing it away and wrapping her in a hug to put aside the mixed feelings he had about McLaren. 

But they were in Saudi Arabia and he fucking hated it here. He hated that for the next two months he couldn’t hold Em’s hand. He couldn’t wake up beside her in bed. That he’d get on the plane to Perth and she’d be left behind because she was going back to London and he didn’t want to do it.

Originally how late the calendar ran because of covid was perfect. They would arrive into Perth just as the major restrictions would be lifted, the hotel was booked for two weeks, they’d be home just after Christmas. It would work. And then the rules changed and it was citizens and spouses of citizens only and there was no way around it. They were in Austin when they got the news, cancelling the flight for Em with tears.

It was just after the race in Saudi, sitting in his driver room and wanting to head back to the hotel when Michael walked in. Everything was ready and he stood, but one look from Michael made him sit and stay quiet.

“Are you gonna ask Em to marry you so she can come home with us?”

He thought he was about to laugh at the question, but Michael’s face was sincere. 

“Mate, no. God I wish I could. But no. I have a plan, and her thinking that I’m only asking her so she can come is not in it. I wouldn’t do that to her.”

“You have a plan? Shouldn’t you at least go on a couple of dates? Have dinner out like a couple? Work out if it’s what’s gonna happen?”

He could see the surprise on his best mate’s face, watching as Dan took a deep breath and stretched out his back. He’d had the plan since the four of them were in lockdown together on the farm, when Em got off the wooden lounger she was sharing with him to get four more beers. He sat there, took the last gulp out of his bottle, and said “I’m going to marry her some day. Emmy’s the one. She’s it.”

Emmy had come back and curled on his chest again before they could say anything else, sitting there in the cooling night air while he ran his hand up and down her arm. It was perfect and he knew that was it, she was the one. The ring was sitting in his bag waiting for the right moment.

“Mate I know it will. We live together. We do dates when we have our Italy trips, and she still hasn’t forgotten I owe her for Lake Como last year because I won Monza instead. We don’t need dates.”

“Just take her on one. Mate, seriously, take her out. Do it properly.” The insistence was weird, it was never how Mike usually was. In fairness he and Blake usually stayed out of whatever he and Emmy were doing, unless it interrupted Blake’s sleep and he got an angry text. They’d gotten a lot better at not doing that though.

“Did she tell you something? Why are you making a big deal about this? I know what I’m doing.”

“She hasn’t said anything, but just…I see the way the two of you look at each other. You’re not gonna see her for six weeks, and I’m pretty sure the last time the two of you went that long without seeing each other was that gap between her coming to Monaco and whatever the race she went to after in 2018.  Take your girl on a date and make sure she’s your girl.”

“I fucking can’t!” He was louder than he meant to be, opening and closing his hand and standing up. The fucking “cultural norms” and rules that meant they couldn’t do it. If they were just tourists then yeah, maybe. But there’d be cameras and people would see and he wouldn’t put it past a government to make an example of them.

“Why not? It’s easy. “Hey Em I’m in love with you and have been probably since I brought you to Perth for the first time, lets go for dinner before we spend six weeks apart.” That’s all you have to say. She’ll say yes.”

“Because we’re in the Middle fucking East. I’m not even supposed to get in a car with her, let alone be in public with her alone. And it’s pretty public that we’re not married so we can’t risk it. And don’t remind me that it’s gonna be fifty one days without her. That’s how long it’ll be till I see her once we get on that plane.”

“Dan…” But he was on a roll, finally able to explain everything that had been so painful to think about.

“We break so many rules in so many countries just to be able to sit at each others sides. I can get in trouble for sitting by her side in the car, holding her hand. It’s my thing every single day to be with her in the car. It’s our thing to go on ride to get to be alone for a minute before the rest of the world gets me. I can’t even stay in the same room as her if there isn’t someone there. I’m not supposed to go to bed hugging the girl of my dreams. Do you know the risk that I take every single time I sneak out of her room? The danger she’s in? There’s literal fucking morality police here. And every night we decide fuck it, it’s worth it and I just hug her tighter because it could turn into a living nightmare for her. So please. Don’t ask me “why not” like it’s some simple question because it’s not. There’s nothing I want more than that.”

It was quiet as Dan took a breath, the reminders of last year and the way they worried as he got back into the car after watching Romain escape the flames hit him again.

“Remember Bahrain last year? The way I hid in my drivers room with her?” Michael nodded. “That could have gotten us arrested for just being alone together and all that happened was she held onto me and stopped me from wanting to scream. The fact that we’re here so we have to do this? We have to pretend that it’s ok not to even get to hug each other? I’d kill for a podium, or even imagine a win, but then she couldn’t hug me. It’s backwards and it’s fucked and yeah I’m rich and white so we’d probably be fine but it’s not worth the risk. We do it anyway. Because we have to.”

“Mate. I’m sorry.”

“Just please. I have a plan. When we move into the new place I’m gonna talk to her about admitting everything. And next time she’s able to come to the farm I’m gonna propose. I’ve had the ring for a year. A little longer isn’t going to hurt.”

“As long as you know what you’re doing. I trust you, but don’t hurt her. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I won’t. We’ll be good. She knows me better than I know myself.”

They nodded at each other and left the room, Blake and Em standing outside the hospitality with a few feet between them. Instead the four walked out to a car available for them to go back to the hotel. Ten days till the flight to Perth. He had to make the most of them.

—

Once they arrived in Abu Dhabi Em was counting down. They got in on Monday ahead of most of the rest of McLaren, checking into the hotel and getting their rooms. She had the emails and went to the counter, getting the keys and pointing out the boys across the lobby and the ridiculous amount of luggage they all travelled with. Travelling light was not a thing Formula One did.

The four envelopes were slid over, Em taking them and checking the keys. The little printed labels with their names were the same as in nearly any other Hilton, but seeing Dan’s on his own and hers on her own made her so frustrated.

She knew she’d been putting off thinking about the flight home after the race. Until they got to the airport she could pretend they were getting on the same plane, holding hands over the little divider like they did so often, curling up in bed and look at new apartments. They had months left on their self imposed timeline of the summer break, her lease was month to month, but they wanted this. A place that was theirs felt right for once.

“You ok?” Dan asked when Blake and Michael had gone up to their rooms. They were sitting on opposite sides of a coffee table, each fiddling with the envelope in their hands. The evening was a free one before the chaos of the final race of the season began. Both titles coming down to one race? It wasn’t going to be pretty.

“Yeah. Just…yeah.”

“It sucks.”

“It really sucks.” She smiled wistfully, trying to get herself together. They still had time. They weren’t leaving till Tuesday night, Lando agreeing to do the final day of tyre testing so Dan could make it home. The offer was there for Em to fly home early, as if that would happen. She hadn’t let them book her on an earlier flight to London. It wasn’t worth having a little less time with her boys.

“I just hate being apart. I hate not getting to share a room with you. Not even getting to give you a hug in public. I know it’s stupid, but this week?”

“It’s not forever.” Dan sounded different and she looked up at him, watching him search for his words. “After we move, y’know? Next year. We find the apartment and we move in and then we can figure out the rest.”

“That sounds really good.”

Their rooms were at least on the same floor, and she handed Dan the spare card for her room, watching him grin as she did. She went in and did her usual unpacking routine - toiletries in the bathroom, her planned clothes for the circuit hanging up neatly, checking the locks worked and the mirrors were real after one too many TikTok’s that terrified her. Her final step was putting her pillow on the bed, the habit Michael had made her pick up after one too many complaints about her awful sleeping habits. It didn’t particularly help, but she did it anyway.

They’d gotten in late, but there was only a one hour time difference. The room service menu looked good, a lamb kofta and lemon tart for dinner. The food arrived not long after she ordered and she settled at the desk to eat.

Three minutes later there was a knock at the door and it opened, Dan coming in with his own plate. A kiss to her head before he sat down with his steak, Em watching as he cut in and smiled at how it was cut.

“You’re a simple boy, eh Dimples?” She asked, enjoying how the first nickname she gave him that drunken night had stuck.

“I’ve got you and a steak, what else could I possibly want Emmy?”

“You know you don’t need to charm me, right?” He held out a forkful of peppers for her, in return she gave him some fries. 

“But if I want to?”

“Then by all means, but don’t expect magic. I didn’t bring anything fancy considering what customs here is like.” The last time she’d brought anything involving what she considered her nice underwear was in 2019 when her luggage had been searched. She wasn’t doing that again.

They ate in mostly silence, Dan leaving only to put his room service cart outside his door and hang the do not disturb sign on it. Once he was back they got ready for bed, another episode of Criminal Minds on TV as they cuddled and got comfy. Em couldn’t tell you what happened, instead lulled to sleep by Dan’s fingers in her hair and a kiss against her forehead every few minutes.

The next few days passed, and she could see the seething rivalry between Red Bull and Mercedes was going to spill over. Thing were tense in the paddock, she’d never felt an atmosphere like it. Her first two years were a party mode, people glad a season was over, relaxing and looking forward to the break. Last year was covid and weird. But this felt strange.

She was sitting having coffee with Britta on Thursday morning before media really kicked off and asked her the magic question.

“Has a final race been like this before? It feels…weird.” The other woman laughed, checking her watch and taking a sip before answering.

“2016. 2012 a little, but we won so I kind of forget it. Things didn’t feel as poisonous then. Everyone knew unless Sebastian didn’t finish he’d probably win, so that was the aim. But 2016 was rough, and we weren’t near Mercedes then. It’s going to be interesting.”

“Definitely.” She wanted to see Dan at the top of the standings, wanted to see him race and race well. But this felt weird. She’d known Max just out of his teens, focused and sure and cocky. Lewis had become a friend. It was weird calling him that, but it was how things were.

Seeing Dan finish out of the points wasn’t great, but it was over and the season was done. The safety car finish that wasn’t a safety car finish, the way it all ended up left a weird taste in her mouth. Em had no loyalty to any team despite the friendships she’d made with people across both of them. Splitting the trophies felt just. But it was still strange. That night they all went to a party held by someone, drinking and dancing. In the rented out room it felt safe to be near Dan, but as soon as they were leaving for the hotel it was that gap between them. Into the provided car and through the lobby and up to her room, Dan stepping in behind her and pinning her against the wall. The sex was fierce and frantic and desperate, both of them putting everything they had into it. Dan rubbing against her, filthy words falling out of his mouth about how she looked, how she felt, how good she was as she begged him for more and more until they were seeing stars and clutched together.

Monday was promo. Em sat at the side of the garage with her iPad, already slotting in dates for the following season. Her earplugs were carefully in her ears as she watched the filming happen, content for the off season between Lando and Dan. It was exhausting, but the season was over. So many flights and hotels and this and that and the other. They’d done the maths and realised they spent more time in hotels than their bedroom during the season. She wanted to go home.

But she didn’t. She didn’t want to be in the cold London apartment alone. She didn’t want to sit on their couch and hit her leg off the coffee table Dan hated. She didn’t want to put his helmet on the shelf alone. They had a ceremony for it, Dan’s arms around her as she slid it into its new home. But their time together was ticking away shorter and shorter and she didn’t want to think about it. So she pulled up the latest apartment listings he’d sent to see if any of them suited. And then frowned when she realised he was looking in his rental bracket, not hers.

“Penny for them?” Blake asked, slipping into the chair across from her. She made herself smile up, hitting the lock button on the iPad and closing the case.

“Not a lot. Looking at apartments, wondering what the hell Danny is thinking of with some of them. I told him my budget.”

“And you know Dan. He wants the perfect place. You two doing ok?”

“There’s no us two, Blake.” Her words were short but she’d had enough of everyone saying they were together.

“Tamothy you’re either being wilfully or deliberately blind. He worships the ground you walk on. You’re moving in together. I live beside you, I hear too much.”

“We’re moving into a two bedroom.” She took a breath before continuing, letting that sink in. “Dan and I are…we are complicated and messy but he is my best friend. He knows me better than anybody else does. And whatever is going on with us is between us. You know I love you, you know you’re my brother, but you have to let this be between us. Ok?” 

She took a sip of the iced tea beside her, stretching out her shoulders and arms the way Michael had instructed her to every half hour she was typing away. Blake looked like he was going to say something but Dan arrived over, grinning and wearing yet another OKX shirt.

“Did you take a look at the listings? I really like the SE1 one, it’s got balcony views over the Thames. If you can view when you’re back we can do the deposit?” He took her bottle and half emptied it, handing it back to Em who took another sip before looking up at him.

“I saw, except it’s five times the budget we said. Dan, seriously.”

“Emmy we can afford it. If we decide to do a budget by income like we should it’s me covering most of the expenses. Have a look at it?” He tried widening his eyes but she was immune from them. Mostly.

“No. We’re looking in the price range you and I set. Then if we can’t find anything that suits we’ll go higher. Understood?” He nodded. “This shoot is only supposed to be another twenty minutes, how’s it going?”

“My part’s nearly done. What’s next?”

“You get a full thirty minutes for lunch if you’re on time. Then it’s a couple of Android ads. I got them to give Blake a Pixel phone and tablet so you can look like you use them all the time instead of being the Apple geek we know you are. Once that’s done it’s a Gulf Oil pre-tape, a couple of holiday messages to record - Christmas, New Years, Lunar New Year because that’s before you’re back from Australia - and then you’re mostly done for the day. Apart from the Pirelli test meeting at five. That’s just going over the tires for tomorrow, the aim, introduce you to how the mule cars will work. That kind of thing.”

“You are my calendar countess, thank you Emmy! Going back to work now, are you both getting lunch then?”

“I’ll drag her from her desk!” Dan grinned at Blake’s response before jogging back. Once he was gone Blake stared at Em with wide eyes. “You drank from your bottle.”

“And?” She waved her hand at the papaya insulated metal bottle she carried with her everywhere. Water usually, but in hotter places it was iced tea with ice cubes carefully prodded through the lid. Everyone regularly in the garages had one.

“You never do that. I saw you nearly slap Michaels hand away for doing it. But you let Dan who was sweaty from being under huge lights all morning drink out of it and you drank out of it straight away.”

“So? It’s not a big deal.” It wasn’t. She was sanitary, that was all. Dan’s tongue was in her mouth most days, it wasn’t a big deal to share a water bottle. She forced Blake’s words out of her mouth as she started planning the 2022 Ric3 release schedule, only interrupted by going for lunch before spending the rest of her day on it. That night she didn’t do her usual day before checkout routine, instead curling up in bed with Dan for a lazy make out session before they went to sleep.

The next morning Em stopped packing and looked up at Daniel, watching him pace around the hotel room that he hadn’t left that morning, needing the extra time with her. He was more anxious than usual before getting in the car.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” She pulled his chin down so he stared at her before getting on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. “You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

“I just wish you were going to be in Perth with us. The kids miss you and want to see you, Mum and Dad keep bugging me that I have to be able to do something to get you in. We could do Melbourne or Sydney and spend it—“

“And you’d spend it away from your family when the entire reason you’re going back to Oz and spending fifteen days in a very small hotel room with Mikey is to see them. It sucks. It completely sucks that we’re going to be apart for two months. It sucks that we’re not spending Christmas together when we’ve spent almost every day of the last two years together. But you need to see them.” She couldn’t help the tears falling at her words, the realisation that she had to spend so much time away from her boys hitting her. They’d been her entire life, but they needed to see the other people who loved them even though she couldn’t go. She and Dan had poured over the regulations but had come to the same conclusion. She wasn’t Australian, she wasn’t married to an Australian, so she couldn’t enter Western Australia. None of Dan’s connections could get the restrictions lifted, even though she’d asked him not to try. He still had because of course he had.

“Emmy, don’t cry.” He sat on the bed and pulled her close, cradling her the same way they’d curl up on a jet together. Mike would be at the door any minute telling him to get his ass downstairs, testing was starting soon, but he didn’t care. She came first.

“I’m sorry. I just…ugh. I want to be there. I miss everyone. I want my big hug from everyone and the reminder to eat up because we don’t settle down in one place enough. I want to spend a day cooking with Grace and Michelle and getting shown the recipes she doesn’t trust you with. It’s just not fucking fair.” Dan’s hand ran through her hair, pushing kisses to her forehead as he soothed her. Seven fucking weeks. Fifty one days. It was the longest they’d spent apart since she’d gone to Barcelona in 2018.

“None of this is fair. I’ll come back to London, we can spend Christmas in the flat and start looking for our new place. I don’t want you alone for it or having to get the train to Liverpool.”

“You’re going to Perth. You already paid the stupid amount of money for hotel quarantine, we both know you don’t have a choice. I’ll be fine.”

She nearly convinced herself as she got off his lap the moment before Mike came into their room, wiping her eyes and picking up her tablet before joining them in the car. Blake had told her to take the day off, but there was already dates for sponsor videos and the next car launch, and some stupid OKX campaign involving Dan as a magician that she thought was ridiculous but she’d seen how much money they were personally paying him so it had to happen. While Dan drove laps around Yas Marina to put the season that had the highest highs and the lowest lows behind them she worked, tapping away at the keyboard with more force than she intended.

“What did the poor machine do to you?” She turned at the American accent, Zak Brown standing behind her looking her up and down. Emmy shook her head and put her press smile on.

“Decided to push more things onto a schedule than there’s hours in the day. What can I do for you, Mr Brown?” The older man’s expression was smarmy and she dreaded what he was about to say.

“We need Daniel to drive tom—“

“No.”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“You want Daniel to drive tomorrow morning instead of doing the full run today. That’s not going to work. He’s booked on a flight to Perth at three in the morning and is booked into his hotel quarantine for when he arrives in Australia. This is non negotiable.” She wasn’t afraid to stand up to Brown anymore, not after the rumour Carmen had slipped her he’d spread.

“Lando can’t drive in the morning, he’s booked on a flight then.”

“I don’t care.” She stared at him, taking a breath before speaking. “Lando’s family is in England and he was able to spend most of 2020 and basically all of 2021 with them. They were able to be at races with him. Dan hasn’t seen his family since April last year apart from FaceTime, and thanks to the season running so late this year he’s already missing Christmas and Boxing Day with them. He’s not delaying seeing them by extra time. Plus, there’s flights to London nearly every hour, Lando can get any one of them. Dan’s flight isn’t changing. Don’t ask again.”

“And if I ask him to?” She hadn’t realised the car had pulled back into the garage, Dan making a beeline for his manager’s assistant and the CEO speaking in harsh whispers at the back of the garage.

“If you ask me to what?” He swallowed part of the protein smoothie Mike had handed him while waiting for Zak to speak.

“I was telling your little assistant here that Lando needs to go back to London tonight to see family, so I need you to do tomorrow morning’s testing session. She told me you wouldn’t do it, but I know you will, right?” Emmy looked at Dan, dreading his response

“I can’t. I’ve organised hotel quarantine with the WA government, I’ve paid for it. If I’m not on that flight then I miss my quarantine spot and there’s no guarantee I’ll get another one. Lando told me yesterday afternoon he was fine about it, he had plans to spend Thursday golfing in Dubai before flying home. If Emmy says something about my schedule then that’s my schedule, she’s the one who keeps all that.”

They were a united front, and she could feel the heat radiating from his sweaty race suit just behind her. Instead of leaning back like she wanted she stayed still to watch Brown take in Dan’s words.

“Ok. We’ll make it work. Dan, Emmy.” He turned to walk away, but Emmy stopped him.

“Mr Brown?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Emma, if you don’t mind. Only certain people call me Emmy, I’d like to keep it that way.”

They watched him walk out of the garage towards hospitality and it took Dan less than five seconds to grab her hand and pull her back to his drivers room.

“Dan?” She asked once he’d closed the door, pushing her against it.

“That was fucking hot. Making sure I get to go? Standing up to him? Not letting him call you the name I gave you? Hot as hell.”

His lips dropped to her neck, tracing the length of the silver chain she always wore until he reached the number three on it. It was her birthday present from 2018, given to her during the summer break. Just weeks after they’d decided to be friends who slept together. 

She hated the word friends. 

“You have to eat. And drive. We can’t right now.”

“At the hotel? I want to say goodbye to you properly. Two months is too long.”

“I know, Babe. I know.”

She pressed open mouthed kisses to his jaw before pushing him slightly, pulling her ipad to her as she perched on the little desk before Mike arrived back. They were the picture of professionalism, apart from Dan’s pinkie running up and down her thigh.

When he was back in the car she had her last meeting with Michael, the two of them running through the final plans for the online platform over the winter, the pre recorded information ready to go.

“You doing ok?” Michael asked and she nodded, trying to smile. “Really?”

“I will be. It’s just gonna be weird spending time without the three of you. Dan and I haven’t been apart since we were all in lockdown.”

“Any news about you and Dan?”

“Gossiping, much?!” She tried laughing, not letting her worries show. “He’s my guy, he’s my best friend. Whatever the media or anyone says doesn’t matter. Danny knows more about me than anyone else.”

“You know we’re on your side.”

There was nothing else she could say to that. Fortunately Dan appeared out of the car, changed but unshowered.

“Winter break, here we come! I’m thinking hotel to nap, and then we can get food before we change and head to the airport? Book the restaurant for eight thirty?” Dan’s curls were wild and he still had the balaclava marks on his cheeks that Em loved to kiss off his face. Instead she stood up, adjusting the bright orange shirt as she picked up the last few things she had.

“Yeah, works for us. Make sure we’re all packed up so we can just grab them and go straight to the airport. Who’s driving? Emmy?”

“Nah, not tonight. I’m too tired, and considering the way things are around here a woman driving a car full of men?” She smiled, Blake and Mike realising the excuse she wasn’t saying.

“I’ll drive. Be fine. Let’s head back.” Blake shepherded them out, everyone saying goodbye to the team they’d worked with for the year. Em checked her watch, eleven hours until she’d have said goodbye to her boys for two months, and she wasn’t ready. 

The drive back to the Hilton was quick. Mike took the passenger seat without asking leaving her and Dan holding hands in the back. When they were in the garage they waved goodbye, everyone going to their room and agreeing to meet later for dinner. Once the door to their room was closed Dan pulled her close, his hands half lifting her as her legs wrapped around his waist when she jumped.

“Dan,” Em groaned, holding onto his shoulders.

“Ive got you baby girl, I’ve got you. I promise I’ve got you.” His lips moved further down her neck as he pulled the team shirt off her body to reveal a new pink bra. “For me?”

“Wanted to look pretty for you, give you something to remember.”

“You say that like I could ever forget you.” 

She was lost in the sensations, both of them shuffling clothing off in a desperate attempt to be closer. Dan’s fingers slid through the matching underwear, long digits brushing through the wet folds.

“Dan I need more. Please?” Her hips bucked up and he laid her on one of the beds in the room, hovering over her.

“I’ve got you, Emmy. I’ve always got you.” Dan’s brown eyes were clear, the depths of emotion starting. She gasped as he entered her fully, filling her to the hilt in that way she knew so, so well. Every single time they slept together it felt right, Dan stretching her perfectly. She rolled her hips and smirked at the groan he let out, taking the hint to move.

Never ask Emmy what he did in those moments, the way he moved and brought her to her first orgasm, and then her second. They were chasing their highs together, lips clashing and his thumb rubbing circles around her clit just above where she was so gloriously full.

“Let me feel you, Emmy. So perfect right like that, let me feel how good you feel.”

“Danny…Danny please babe, just there please.” She couldn’t tell who came first, the two of them hitting their climax at nearly the same time. 

The last thing she wanted was for him to pull out and move, to remind her that their time together was getting shorter and shorter and they’d have to say goodbye soon. Dan seemed the same way, pushing kisses to her chest before being forced to move. Getting cleaned up after sex was easy for them now, but instead he lifted her up and carried her into the bathroom, ignoring Emmy’s complaints.

“Dan! Put me down! PUT ME DOWN!! What are you doing?!” She called, trying to wriggle out of his tight grip.

“Bath. If we don’t get one for a while I want a proper one. We don’t have wine, but we can relax for a little while. Please?” She could never say no to his big brown eyes, reaching up to kiss his cheek.

“Sounds perfect.”

The tub in the suite was large enough for both of them, Em leaning back into his arms in the hot water. Every so often she felt Dan push a kiss to her head, smiling at the movement. 

“Are you going home for Christmas?” He asked and she fought but failed to stop her body going stiff. “Shit, sorry.”

“It’s fine. London’s as much home as anywhere else, either there or Monaco or Perth. But no, I’m staying away from Liverpool. I didn’t even get a text asking what I was doing for it this year.” The realisation that she hadn’t gotten anything after her happy birthday text in August hurt a little, but she just relaxed into Dan again.

“I’m sorry. It’s not fair.”

“None of it is, but it’ll be fine. I’ll curl up, take care of Blake’s plants, get your schedule for the start of next year done. Who knows, I might use some of the ridiculous salary you pay me and take a holiday. Chloe said she and Scotty are spending New Years in Switzerland. She doesn’t want me to be lonely.”

“They’re good friends. You should go. Don’t spend it all alone in the flat without me. I might look up some places for us? I’ll find some that are in your price range, I promise.” She leaned back against him to relax before she replied.

“That’s the plan Roomie.” The moving in talk gutted her every time he brought it up. As friends. Friends who slept together and were intimate together and who loved each other so much it hurt to be separated.

“I’ll see what I can find. Somewhere with lots of light and a balcony I think.”

“Sounds perfect.”

She could have fallen asleep there but the alarm she’d set went off, making her stand up as Dan ran his fingers down her legs.

“Emmy…”

“No, Danny. We need to get ready. Once we leave here you know what the rules are.” The stupid unmarried couple UAE rules. The reason she insisted she stood between Blake and Mike for most of the time they were outside, because if she and Danny were beside each other holding hands was the least they usually did.

“You know, right?” His voice was plaintive, Em dropping a kiss to the top of his head.

“I know. I know you do but y’know, right?”

A squeeze of her hand was the only response.

Dinner was fun, the four of them at the table, laughing and joking. The time of year and what was about to happen was strictly off limits for discussion, as was the safety car that had fucked up Dan’s chance of points in the last race. Instead they talked about watching other teams do tyre testing, Kimi’s retirement party that the guest of honour had left after twenty minutes, the way teams had shaped up for the next season. 

“Yeah I’m surprised Haas kept Mazepin, but I guess money talks.” Blake gestured with his fork as he spoke, Em rolling her eyes.

“Just keep him away from me next year, ok? I…yeah. The rumours are bad enough. He creeps me out.”

“Did he do anything?” Dan put his cutlery down and looked at her, Em shaking her head immediately.

“He didn’t get the chance. But he knows exactly where to go to find certain people, he knows what to do. Nothing I can report and say is inappropriate, but enough that I can tell he knows he’s crossing the line. It fucking sucks. And I can’t prove it but he was spreading the worst of the rumours over the summer.” She twirled spaghetti around her fork, eating it before she could say anything else. Spending time with Mick trying to badly teach her German generally meant Mazepin was around and she hated that.

“If anything happens.” An eyebrow raise told her the rest.

“I know what to do.” She took the chance to run her foot along his calf, making sure he could feel how calm she was. She wasn’t ruining the last part of her day with her boys with crap.

The drive to the airport was fine. Two cars had been ordered because of the law that she wasn’t supposed to be in a car with any of the boys, but instead of her slipping into one of the SUVs alone Dan got in opposite her. The driver was discrete and kept quiet, Em and Dan holding hands for the entire drive to Dubai. The hour passed too quickly, and they arrived ready to go in the dark night.

Check in and security was quick, Em picking up a few things in the duty free shopping. Once they were ready the four of them went to the Emirates lounge, settling into a corner. Mike and Blake took the outer seats so she and Dan could be beside each other, a glass of champagne for everyone on the low table between them.

She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing now, the clock past midnight and the realisation she was saying goodbye to them. Her fingers were linked with Dan’s and they were silent, three occasional squeezes the only form of communication between them. She could tell when Blake and Mike noticed what was happening, their nudges between each other. Em held her breath, but then Dan realised what was happening and pulled her in.

“We can’t,” Em gasped out, worried about what would happen if anyone saw.

“I don’t care. Emmy, you need some comfort. This isn’t…fuck. Fuck it all. I’m done. I’m going up and changing my flight, I’m going to London. How the hell am I supposed to leave you like this? I don’t want you to be alone.”

“You can’t.”

“Watch me.”

“Danny, you can’t.” She looked up at him and made him stare at her, fixing his gaze with her own. “You haven’t seen your family in more than eighteen months. You’ve got your hotel quarantine ready to go. They’re holding Christmas dinner until you’re out of quarantine and can see them all. You have to go.”

“I don’t want you to be alone.” He squeezed her hand three times but she could see his resolve breaking. 

“I’ll be ok. We’ll FaceTime every couple of days. But look here.” She lit her phone screen, showing him the photo of her, Isaac, and Isabella from Christmas 2019 when the kids were so much smaller and a pandemic was barely a thought. “Those kids are so excited to see their uncle Dan again. You have a full suitcase of presents waiting to be loaded. Grace is dying to hug her boy and she and Joe just want to congratulate you for Monza. You have to go.”

When Dan pulled her into a hug she knew she’d won, and the two of them stayed curled up in a chair like that together. Mike and Blake moved chairs so nobody could see them as a just in case, but Dan held her and Em breathed in his scent deeply. Fifty one days. She could do this. 

“Passengers for Emirates flight EK 420 to Perth, First Class is boarding shortly. Please proceed to the boarding gate for transport to your plane.”

She went to stand at the announcement but Dan didn’t let her go, squeezing her tight. 

“Another minute. Please?”

“Ok.”

They got another three before Blake shook Dan’s shoulder to get them to move. 

“Mate, we have to go. C’mon.”

Em forced an all too fake smile on her face as she hugged her boys, Michael holding her close for a moment. 

“Look after yourself,” she murmured, watching as he nodded seriously. 

“And I’ll look after him for you, Wiggle. I’ll email you those new video ideas and we can see what works?”

“Perfect.”

Hugging Blake was the same, arms wrapped around her as he pushed a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Wish you were coming back with us. If we could…”

“It’s not your fault. Blame Australia. Gonna miss you Blakey.”

“Miss you too Ems.”

Dan was the final one to grab her and she didn’t want to let go. He pushed the quickest kiss to her lips as he hugged her, Em wanting to deepen it but knowing she couldn’t. 

“I’ll change to the London flight. I’ll do it now.”

“And then your family will hate me. I’ll see you soon. You know, right?”

“I know. Y’know, right?”

She kissed his cheek before letting go, stepping back to give distance between them all. 

“Go get your flight. I’ll text when I land in London, please let me know when you get into Perth. Good luck with the quarantine.”

She waved as they walked away, tears streaming down her cheeks. Ever since they’d been locked down on the farm she’d spent every single day with at least Dan, if not Blake and Mike right there beside her. But now she was facing fifty one days alone and all Em could do until they announced her flight was cry.

Taglist (let us know if you want to be added!)

@dr3lover @sabrinaselina55 @majx00 @tall-tanned-tattoo @lovingdennishauger @lauehr @msolbesg @f1medlife @idkwtfimdoing2 @leclercsbae @hiphopdancer101universe @mehrmonga @lewispool @saintandrea-droidsmuggler @coldheartedmar @sugarbabygirlofdaddy @nonsensical-nonce @a-distantdreamer @tita010 @leslizzle @javden @mloyer @magical-imagination-kgp @danarysstormborn @kakorrhaphiophobia @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e

[elisysd]

Eyes Open

Cruel Summer Masterlist

Losing Julia in the paddock

Every lesson forms a new scar

Julia was six now and knew her way inside and out a paddock. But still, Lyanna and Charles were reluctant at the idea of letting her wander alone. The family was off to Silverstone to cheer on Charles. It was Julia’s first time on the English soil and she was excited. She had already gone to Monza, Barcelona, Monaco obviously (she went there each year) and Spa but never had she been to Silverstone and she was excited. Especially when she knew that it was one of her dad’s favourite track.

They had taken the private jet along with her godfather and godmother but also at her big disappointment with the Verstappen. Since that fateful accident in kindergarten, time had passed and rivalry ended. Between Charles and Max. Not between Ethan and Julia. They still hated each other and were not missing an occasion to make it known. Both families were used to it and were not even trying to say anything. As long as they were not physically fighting and no bones were broken, it was fine.

“Hi Joolsie!” waved Ethan, when he saw her getting in the plane closely followed by her mom.

Joolsie was the nickname Ethan found her. It came when they were both younger and it stuck when Ethan understood that it annoyed her. She rolled her eyes, not bothering to say anything back and took her seat, near the window and right beside Pierre as Lyanna went to Kika and Kat who were a little away in the plane.

“Where’s your dad Ju’?” asked Pierre.

“He said that he had an urgent phone call to make.”

She pulled from her backpack a book. She was still trying to learn how to read and wanted to know how to before Ethan. It was her biggest objective and she was giving her all to achieve it as soon as possible. And it was like that for everything. Everything was a good excuse to turn it into a challenge. Lyanna often said that her daughter inherited from Charles her competitiveness. And Charles was proud.

Finally her dad showed up and took place in front of her, after shaking hands with Max and ruffling playfully Ethan’s hair. Julia, noticing the scene, snorted and ignored her dad when he kissed the top of her head.

“What’s wrong princess?”

“You are making friend with the enemy, daddy.”

“Oh come on, sweetheart.”

She shrugged not bothering to answer and Charles looked at Lyanna who was watching the scene from afar, smiling. It was going to be a long flight. They landed two hours later and made their way to the hotel. Julia was going to share the bedroom with her parents and she could not be happier. It was not everyday it was happening and at home there was a strict policy of not coming into her parents room when the door was closed. When she had questioned her mommy about why she couldn’t go there when they were inside, she had told her that they needed to spend some alone time. Julia didn’t understand why but she knew better than to keep on insisting.

On Thursday, as Charles was out all day to give interviews and filming content with Ferrari’s media team, Lyanna had taken Julia to London to do some shopping. It would be a girl day, something Julia was excited about. It didn’t happen a lot between school and her mom work. Lyanna had paused her career after getting the Oscar, she wanted to spend time with her daughter away from everything and she wanted to see her grow up. She felt like she had accomplished everything that she could and with the success the movie had and the solicitations it became overwhelming for her. She had then decided to do a break to pursue online studies in business. She really wanted to set up an agency that would help young artists, mostly women and actresses, to not fall into weird traps and to accompany them on a mental health side, something she cared a lot about. Charles was supporting her at 100% and even suggested that it could later on be extended to women in sport.

The two Leclerc girls spend their day from shops to shops until their feet were hurting and they decided to go buy ice creams and settle in a park to cool off. When they finally got back to the hotel, shopping bags in their hands, Charles was already there and waiting for them.

“How was your day with your mum, Ju’?”

“So cool! I have a new dress daddy! Do you want to see it!”

“Is that even a question? Of course, princess!”

Julia took the bag and ran to the bathroom to put it on.

“How are you doing? I hope she didn’t tire you out too much.” ask Charles as Lyanna was sitting on his lap.

“She has a lot of energy but we had fun.”

The Friday, it’s Julia who insisted on going with her dad to the paddock. Lyanna was not sure she would have fun and thought they could do some more exploring in London but Julia really wanted to see the cars and the track. And Charles had told her that later, if they could he would take the bike and ride together along the track so Julia could understand better what her daddy could feeling while driving. Julia was so excited that Lyanna had to watch her very carefully if she didn’t want to loose the little girl.

On their way to the hospitality, they encountered Sarah, Mick’s wife and Romy who was just turning five years old. Mick’s was driving for Audi and was doing a pretty decent job always managing to stay in the points. After everything he had been through Lyanna was happy for him. Charles as well, he really like Mick. They didn’t live close to each other, the Schumacher living in Switzerland but whenever they could they would always try their best to organise dinner, especially since Julia and Romy were getting along very well. Julia didn’t have a lot of friends so it was making her parents happy that she had found someone that she could play with, even if they were not seeing each other a lot.

Saturday went well for Charles, managing a P5. It was not the result he hoped for, obviously but the season was not going that great and he tried his best to see the positive side of things. Julia was disappointed for her dad and almost cried when she understood that it would not be in front tomorrow. Charles tried his best to explain to her that it was okay and that he would try his best to go snatch a podium. For Julia.

Sunday was busy. Lyanna and Charles were holding firmly Julia’s hands to be sure she was not leaving their side. There were so many people, so many VIPs too and so many activities that if they were not careful, it would be easy to loose her. Charles wanted to get his family in the Ferrari garage as soon as he could so they would be safe and away from the crowd. As soon as they stepped in Charles put noise cancelling headphones on Julia's ears and he went straight to his room to change himself.

“Mommy, can I go see grandpa Fred?”

“Sure Ju’ but you stay with him and when he tells you to come back to me, you come back to me. Copy?”

“Copy!”

Lyanna took the opportunity to go talk to Arthur who was there too. Arthur were not racing anymore, preferring to focus on mentoring younger kids rather than trying to force his way into F1. They spent a while talking until Charles came back, ready to go into his car. He went up to Fred who was showing graphs to Julia who was intently listening. He kissed her forehead and Julia stopped watching to throw her hands around her dad’s waist.

“I love you daddy.”

“I love you too, princess.”

He then went to Lyanna, squeezing her waist as she threw her arms around his neck to kiss him.

“Be fast. Come back to me. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

As the race was about to start, Lyanna search for Julia and panic rushed over her when she saw that she was not there anymore. She alerted Arthur who tried to reassure her by saying that she could not be far away and that he was going to help her search for her. They spent an hour running around the paddock asking everyone if they had seen Julia. Tears were falling down on Lyanna’s face until a voice called out for them.

On their right, coming from the Audi’s garage, Sebastian Vettel was coming towards them with the little girl in his arms.

“Julia!” Lyanna ran to her. “Don’t run away ever again like that okay? I was so scared!”

“Sorry mummy. there was a man with a Ferrari shirt that was working on something and he went away and I wanted to see what he was doing and I followed him and I lost him and I didn’t know how to come back and I got lost.”

“You’re lucky , I recognised her only because she was wearing Charles number and she is his spiting image.”

“Thank you so much, Seb. Really.”

Needless to say that Julia never had been scolded this hard in her entire short life. Charles ended up on the third place of the podium and he was so happy that Lyanna didn’t want to tell him about his daughter shenanigans. And Julia was happy too. Seeing her dad on the podium, she clapped her hands as loud as she could. She was on Arthur’s shoulders so she could have a clear view on the podium and so that Charles could see her straight away. After the celebrations (and a well deserve shower) they all get back to the hotel. As Charles was taking care of his daughter was helping her get ready to bed he asked her how she had found the weekend.

“So cool! I learned a lot of stuff about cars.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes! I want to help people make cars when I’m older. I want to help you have a very fast car.”

“That’s very nice, princess. But before, time to bed.”

===========

taglist

@zendayabelova @purplephantomwolf @ru-kru @dakotali @blueflorals @aundercover @ruleroftheuniverse @fangirlika @writerscurse @elijahmikaelsonbitch @leclerc13 @karmabyfernando @stargaryenx @pitlanebabe @boiohboii @reengard @shikshinkwon@smoooothoperator

[thelarriefics]

WINTER FIC REC: Below you’ll find fics that take place during the winter season. 

📖 A Very Darling Christmas by @aquamarinedaffodil (133k)

It’s Harry’s first holiday season since he opened the little bakery at Astor Square and according to his best friend Zayn, he is hopelessly unprepared. With the start of the local Christmas market right around the corner and an already hectic schedule, Harry really can’t afford to get distracted.

Then again, neither can Louis, who is in the middle of directing rehearsals for a winter musical with his drama class and promised his colleague Niall that he’d focus all of his energy on the musical.

But you know what they say: promises are like pie crusts — made to be broken.

📖 like cranberries on a winter evening by @evilovesyou (57k)

Louis hates Christmas. With good reason, too. And no, he doesn’t want to talk about it.

When research for his next novel leads Louis to the website of a quirky little hotel in Northumberland, there is exactly one room available for the two weeks that Louis really wants to get away from his family.

Will the fairy lights, kind smiles, homemade pastries, and genuine friendships awaiting him in Harry Styles’ hotel be enough to cause Louis a change of heart?

📖 Baby, Won't You Look My Way? by @peachbootylouis (50k)

Or the where Louis’ routine centered life runs like clockwork until a chance hook up throws a wrench named Harry into it all. But as it may turn out a change in plans could be what Louis has needed all along.

📖 Cabin Fever by @germericangirl (46k)

One cabin, one bed, two ex-boyfriends. What could possibly go wrong?

📖 Take A Chance On Me by @peachypetalhazz (39k)

When Harry receives two tickets to see one of his favourite bands, he'd expected that his best mate would accompany him. However, it is soon learned that the intentions behind this so-called gift were far more wondrous than he initially thought.

📖 love drunk, waiting on a miracle by @hellolovers13 (30k)

Harry has a bit of a crush on a customer. Thankfully, the feeling is mutual.

These are their first 24 days together.

📖 California stars by @justanothershadeofblue (27k)

A month in the life (and diary) of one Harry Edward Styles, miner-become-farmer in the brand new state of California, and his hired hand, one Louis Tomlinson. AKA Harry goes to San Francisco for supplies, but ends up with more than he bargained for.

📖 One for the Books by @neondiamond (25k)

When Harry decides to move to London a few weeks before Christmas to pursue his dream and become the new owner of a bookshop after seeing an ad online, everyone he knows tells him he must be out of his mind. As he gets acquainted with his new life and meets a handful of incredible individuals—one of which he happens to grow particularly fond of—he slowly comes to the realisation that it may just be the best decision he's ever made.

Or the one where there’s a bookshop, a cat, OT5 friendship, a budding romance, and all the festive vibes.

📖 as in olden days by @scrunchyharry (18k)

Château Frontenac hotel, Christmas 1925 When his father insisted the entire family spend Christmas abroad in one of his new investments, Harry dreaded the prospect of being trapped for weeks in the biting Canadian cold, so far away from the roaring excitement of his London life. As he crossed half of the world to be buried under a thick blanket of snow, he never imagined he would meet a charming bellhop who would do his best to keep him warm.

📖 And winter came... by @noellehenryfics (16k)

A While you were sleeping AU.

📖 This Winter's Day by @becomeawendybird (14k)

Louis is Harry's stablemaster, and when he falls ill and his mother turns to Harry to help her try and find someone he can settle down with, it's only natural that Harry suggests himself.

📖 I Can Build Your Heart A Home by @loveislarryislove (10k)

Harry and Louis kind of secretly sort of dated in high school. Now it's two years later and they're both back in town for Christmas and it's awkward. Until it isn't.

📖 The Clock Strikes New Year by @jacaranda-bloom (9k)

Harry was homeless, but now he has Louis. Louis was lonely, but now he has Harry. And there’s more than one way to see fireworks on New Year’s Eve.

📖 All I know is I'm in trouble ('cause the atmosphere's so cold) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed (8k)

While on a holiday with his best mate Zayn, Louis meets Harry, who seems to dislike him from the start. It's just his luck he ends up getting stuck on a ski lift with Harry. Except maybe the universe knows better and he really is lucky.

📖 Alpha Heater For Sale by @harryslonecurl (3k)

It read: Alpha heater for sale! Winter weather got you down? Call Harry for your warm, furnace-like needs!

📖 Rapture by @allwaswell16 (3k)

It was New Year's Eve in Victorian London, and a lonely vampire could no longer resist the stunning lamplighter he watched night after night.

Or, a vampire Harry fic because what says the holidays like Victorian vampires?

📖 a taste of bliss by @beckydoesthings (1k)

It's New Year's Eve, and Louis is working. As much as he hates it, there's a few benefits to working a holiday. One is the free champagne. The second may or may not come in the form of a curly haired sous chef named Harry.

[draganwhorror]

So, my darling followers, you are all more than welcome to tell me I'm crazy, but would anyone want to go to Frightmare in the Falls in Canada with me to see Ted (and others, of course)? The current lineup is listed above, but I know they have many more announcements coming. I already have a hotel booked right by the convention center (3 minute walk), so you wouldn't need to worry about that, unless you preferred staying elsewhere, and admission for myself, and I could buy admission for someone else. I could also try to offer some assistance (but not 100% guaranteed) with a flight, too (but probably not international, because flights are crazy expensive, unfortunately). I haven't booked my flight yet (currently price watching), but I'll most likely be going to Buffalo (NY) and then going from there.

I know it's a bit... weird, I suppose, to ask on Tumblr, but I will say one of the best trips I've ever taken was in 2013 when I went to London (UK) for 5 days with someone I only knew from Tumblr and had never met in real life until that trip. She's been one of my besties ever since. I also met up with three other Ted fans back in March that I'd only known from online, and they're also some of the best people I've ever met. So, yeah... Sometimes craziness pays off. 😂

[pr1ncemax]

things to do when ur stuck in bed, but u have a phone! pt2!

Morpheus 

NASA @ Home!

Virtual visits

-Oceangraphic 

-Faces of Frida Kahlo 

-National Art Gallery 

-New York

-OIL 

-Armchair Travel

-Paris Catacombs 

-Winchester House ($)

-Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum and Foundation

-Rijksmuseum

-British Museum 

-Musée d’Orsay, Paris

-barnes foundation

-The Broad 

-Uffizi

-National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art, Korea

-MASP - Museu de Arte de São Paulo Assis Chateaubriand

-National Gallery of Victoria 

-Museo Frida Kahlo

-Picasso

-Broken Relationships

Live Cams of fun stuff! ( Kinda makes u feel like a spy) 

-Northern Lights 

-Shedd Aquarium

-Fred Hotel

-Aspen

-Portola

-Resort Cams 

-Las Vegas

-Pandas

-San Diego Zoo

-Melbourne Zoo

-Smithsonian Zoo

-Africam

-WHALE

VR/360 views of cool stuff! 

Harry potter ride! (Without supporting JKR)

Cherry blossoms! 

Google Map Cities!  (Recommended cities below)

-Paris from Sacré-Coeur

-London from The Shard

-Barcelona from Turó de la Rovira

-Hong Kong from Lion Rock

-Jaipur from Nahargarh Fort

-Florence from Piazzale Michelangelo

-New York City from Top of the Rock

-Chicago from 875 North Michigan Avenue

-Singapore from OCBC Skyway

-Cape Town from Table Mountain

-Lisbon from Cristo Rei

-Los Angeles from Griffith Observatory

-Naples from Castel Sant’Elmo

-Rio de Janeiro from Sugarloaf Mountain

Learn Japanese! X / X / X / X / X

AIRBnB Experiences! X / X / X / X 

Learn about hawai’i! 

Art is where the home is! 

The Show Must go onLINE - watch Shakespeare plays thru zoom! 

Watch a concert from 2019! 

No? How about from 1986? 

7 day free trial to see Met opera , or to broadwayhd

Murakami’s 'personal record collection' ( 280+ hours) 

Word Ladders! Anagrams! Hidden Objects!  

Daily spot the difference! 

Pick a book that takes place in every country! 

Learn Korean With BTS or Find a new artist to listen too

Funny Wildlife photos 

The Pano Awards

Learn about drones

Online escape rooms! 

-Hogwarts Digital Escape Room

-365 Escape Games

-Crazy Games

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Hi! About the preview - I went to one for another Amazon show recently. There was a competition online where you could win tickets. The competition was advertised on the Amazon FB page etc, only a couple of weeks before the event. They showed the first 2 episodes and after that there was a Q&A with some of the actors. This was a German show and the event took place in Berlin but I guess it will be similar with GO. (Q&A in London maybe?)

Hiya! :) Sounds great! Tho I hope they will announce it as soon as possible for us outside UK/US/another probable showing state to book flight tickets and hotel and so :)❤

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

Some fave multichapter with angst and fluff?

We recently listed some favorite longer fics here.

Check out Lynne's list of recommended fics here.

Some of my favorite longshots - often with more than one part as well. These weren't mentioned in previous list drawn up above as they are all before 2020. ~Jen

The Symphony Verse by Shandyalls

Blaine has spent most of his life feeling like the only thing people notice about him is that he stutters. He’s working hard to overcome his (mostly self created) roadblocks when he meets Kurt in an online class the summer after his freshman year of college.

~~~~~

Love Song by andiheardeverything

A hate crime leaves Blaine damaged and Kurt refuses to let it bring them down.

~~~~~

100 days by @borogroves

Kurt and Blaine have been best friends (and nothing more) since the age of six. Now 22-year-old college graduates, they take a roadtrip around the USA, visiting every state in 100 days. Fifty states. Two boys. One love story.

~~~~~

The Empty Nest series by @coffeegleek

Burt Hummel was an empty nester who discovered a teenager sleeping under his porch. Kurt was just trying to survive in a world that was against everything he was. This is their story.

~~~~~

Westerville Abbey by @hkvoyage

Blaine is the second son of the earl of Westerville, and is considered the spare heir. After his 18th birthday, he attends the London Season to fulfill his duty of finding a wife. He soon realizes he is more attracted to the new footman. Kurt, who has just arrived at Westerville Abbey to work alongside his father, becomes equally as smitten with the earl’s youngest son. Will Blaine and Kurt be able to overcome their class differences in 1910s England? Will their forbidden love survive WW1? A Downton Abbey inspired historical Klaine AU.

and Life in the Big Apple by @hkvoyage

Sequel to Westerville Abbey. Kurt and Blaine are reunited, but their happily ever after comes with a whole new set of challenges: relationship hiccups, jealousy, sabotage, war memories, and family troubles. Yet with love and perseverance, they can make it through. A Klaine historical AU set in the 1920s.

~~~~

Gilded Cage by @canarian

In the winter of 1895, Blaine Anderson, the son of a wealthy doctor, and Kurt Hummel, the son of a middle class mechanic, cross paths at a luxury hotel in the quiet seaside town of St. Augustine, Florida. With everyone and everything working to keep them apart, can they find a way to be together?

~~~~~

Sweet DREAMers by @perryavenue

Blaine Anderson is a business major at Baruch College of the City University of New York (CUNY). Blaine came to the United States from the Philippines on a tourist visa with his mom when he was three years old and since then, has lived in Woodside, Queens with his mom and cousin Marco. As a gay, undocumented student, he has the questionable good fortune to belong to two marginalized populations. One day, while at his part-time job at a book store, Blaine meets Kurt Hummel, a theatre major from Ohio attending New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts, and begins a tentative friendship. Before it has the chance to bloom into more, Blaine’s immigration status is revealed, creating issues for both of them.

[salvadorbonaparte]

To recap the last two days

4th of December. We know there's some problems with snow in Munich but our travel agency told us it's fine and that the worst that can happen is the entire flight being rerouted to a different city in Germany. We have a 2h taxi transfer to the airport and arrive at 11am. We check in and are told the connecting flight from Munich to Hannover was cancelled but that we can get a later flight the same day. It would be a 6h hour layover but it would be fine. We go through security. The timetable says something like "gate info in 217 mins" and I'm like surely that's a typo. We figure out the scheduled gate where someone tells us the Lufthansa website says the flight is delayed by 20 mins. We check the airport website and it says it's delayed by 3h. There's absolutely no one at the gate. A couple minutes later I refresh the page and the flight status is changed to cancelled. At the same time I get an email with a job rejection. Still no one at the gate. 20 minutes later someone confirms the cancellation and we all have to check out and go through security again and leave the airport then get told to simply call or email the airline and we all have a budget of 150€ for one day per person for a taxi and hotel and food. Which we all have to sort out ourselves. Lufthansa cannot be reached by phone, mail or chat bot because they're completely swamped with complaints. Our travel agency doesn't even know our flight is cancelled. We wait for almost 3h for our travel agency to find a new flight for us - which they couldn't book remotely - and we're told that a hotel is still our responsibility. We're told to find a Lufthansa office which doesn't exist and only by chance figure out where to go. We go inside the airport again at 4pm and physically stand in a queue until 9pm without food or water or the possibility to sit down - even though my mum has a mobility issue - until we can reschedule our flight. There's two people sharing one computer handling every single case. Two people were allowed to cut in line but I was told off for asking a question. Some people had to accept 4am flights through Serbia and one couple was told the only option was to fly to Greece and from there to Munich even though the company was aware the flight would be cancelled again and they'd just get stuck in a second country. We book a hotel afterwards and arrive there at 10pm. We order food online since their kitchen is already closed.

5th of December. We get up at 4am and are back at the airport at 6am. We're wearing the same clothes since we only packed for a week and have no clean shirts or underwear or anything. We drink a bad coffee, buy a croissant and board an airplane to London at 8:35am with half an hour delay. I have a middle seat. The business class is half empty with several people taking a whole row to stretch out and sleep while we know there's still other people stuck in Cyprus who were told this flight was full. The flight is 5h long. My mum has a high risk of thrombosis and no access to medication. We get a single bottle of water and a flapjack. At some point I try to go to the bathroom and am told to quickly go back to my seat and fasten my seat belt because we're about to experience heavy turbulence. A stewardess walks through the aisles saying the same. I panic. Absolutely nothing happens. Zero turbulence. By the time we're allowed to stand up again there's 6 people in the bathroom queue before me and I'm told I'm not allowed to stand in the aisle and have to wait at my seat. By the time I sit down other people have already joined the queue again. At some point the purser in the business class takes pity on me and I'm allowed to use the business class bathroom. We fly two time zones West and arrive at 11am (mentally 1pm) starving and with aching legs. We have to go through security again and have to throw away our water. My mum gets randomly selected for a security check. The airport is busier than I've ever seen it and I've been at Heathrow multiple times each year when I studied in England. People are inconsiderate and even aggressive. We eat a sandwich and try to buy some painkillers. Our layover is another 5h. An hour before our flight I suddenly get a panic attack that gives me muscle spasms and I just about manage to board the plane. By the time we board I have to pee really badly because I downed an entire bottle of coconut water to get my blood circulation back up after the panic attack. We have a half hour delay because there's unfinished paperwork. Another middle seat. I get up to go to the bathroom as soon as we reached cruising height and use the bathroom at the front of the airplane because they didn't close the business class curtains and I know they sometimes don't bother on this short flight. When I come back the curtains are drawn and I'm told off for crossing the curtains. We land at just after 7pm German time because of the delay in the third time zone of the day. We arrive home at 8pm.

[monsterintheballroom]

Article under the cut :-)

Penelope Wilton: ‘My street cred went up when I did Shaun of the Dead’

Sat 20 Jul 2024 15.00 CEST

I had a ghastly time at school. I was dyslexic, which was seen as backward at the time. The only person who took any notice of me was a very nice poetry teacher. I was good at learning poems, so I went in for reading competitions. I remember my mother jumping out of the car when I was about 10, after I’d won a cup, and saying to my two ghastly headmistresses: “See, she’s got a cup. She’s not a dunce!”

My sister, Rosemary, was a producer and documentary maker. She got me my first job as an extra who had varicose veins. These very serious makeup ladies put spaghetti down the backs of my legs, but nobody seemed to be happy with that. I got chatting to a cleaner during a coffee break who had marvellous varicose veins. I went up to the director – things were much more hierarchical in the 1960s – and said: “I’m sorry my legs aren’t any good, but the cleaner’s legs are wonderful.” Actresses always had a reputation for being difficult. As you get older you realise why: because they often had to deal with very difficult men. Acting is collaborative. You have to get on with people, play to your strengths – and wait until you get home to moan. I once got lost on the way to the theatre – the worst thing ever. I was driving to the West End way before satnavs, ran into a diversion, and got completely lost in north London. I parked the car, summoned a lift from this charming man and said, “If you can take me to the Almeida, I’ll get you a seat.” And he did.

My walls are covered in paintings. I like to buy one when I do a job that pays well. I bought a very nice painting when I did Doctor Who and a very nice painting when I did the Marigold Hotel films. I can tell which job has paid for which painting.

Shaun of the Dead brought me to a younger generation. My daughter was about 19 or 20 when it came out and my street cred with her friends went up astronomically. Much more than when I was doing The Cherry Orchard. I don’t really know the perks of being a Dame. But I did once want an enormous amount of rubbish collected outside in the road where I live. You know, when there’s a little pile, people add more and eventually a Hoover was dumped. So I rang the council and said, “This is Dame Penelope Wilton. Could you please get rid of the rubbish in my road?” So I thought I was doing a thing for the community, not just for myself. Life is short. I try to enjoy everything: sitting in the park, looking at the trees, seeing friends and family. I’ve got two grandchildren, my daughter and my sister. I enjoy going to concerts. We’re just waiting to book the Proms, but you have to go online and there’s usually 15,000 people ahead of you. Maybe I should pull the Dame card.

[thewritingsofevbrowne]

Writeblr Intro

Hello, my name is Evelynne V. Browne but usually go by Eve. I'm an aspiring author and new to the writeblr community but excited to get to know my fellow writers.

Quick about me:

Twenty-Three years of age

Canadian (eh?) 🍁

Master Procrastinator

Cancer 🦀♋

My favourite genres are... Horror, Romance, Psychological Thriller, Fantasy, and Sci-Fi. I love anything with Gothic themes really.

My favourite authors are... Shakespeare, Edgar Allan Poe, Stephen King, and Neil Gaiman.

Loves Sushi 🍣

Favourite colours: 💜💚💙🖤

The sound of rain... 🌧️

My favourite of Shakespeare's works are: Hamlet, A Midsummer's Night Dream, and Romeo and Juliet.

Coffee snob ☕

My favourite books are... Coraline, Stardust, and anything William Shakespeare has written.

Queer af

Been writing since I could hold a pencil. ✍🏻

Has always dreamt of becoming a published author.

Fibro Warrior 🦋

🌿🥦😏

Green Witch 💚

Loves Memes 👌

Spiritual Butterfly 🧿🍄

Loves animals 🐈🐮🐷🦙🐀🦥

Used to write cringey fan-fiction. (Yes I admit it, I'm the one behind the Loki X Reader series)

Anxious 🥔

Loves to play Videogames 🎮 (Skyrim, ESO: Elder Scrolls Online, Skyrim, Minecraft, Dead by Daylight. Been playing lots of Overwatch 2 lately...)

Previously known as (@lokilover1999)(@lokixreaderfanfictionseries) (Mind-Wolf) (MindWolfy)

Stuff I write:

I wrote heart-wrenching romance novels. I love to put my characters through trauma. (Just kidding... Or am I? *evil laugh*)

I love to break the rules when it comes to writing. I write some pretty f*cked up sh*t lemme tell you.

I often write about the struggles of Mental Health. Characters get revenge on their abusers. You know... Murder.

Writes about Vampires, Demons, Werewolves, Witches, Satanic Cults, fairies, and anything dark and twisted really.

You know there is going to be some kind of f*cked-up love triangle let's be real.

Anything Paranormal, Ghosts, Spirits, etc.

There will always be a gay twist. Always.

Queer Characters everywhere.

WIP's:

Too many to count...

Embers and Thorns (Editing) - 17th Century: An arranged marriage between a cruel king and princess that possesses a special power. [On Wattpad]

Love Lines (Editing) [Working Title - Trying to come up with a better title...] - A depressed vampire makes a no-su*cide pact with a nurse who supplies him blood. [On Wattpad]

The Hotel Vampyre - Sequel to 'The Victorian Vampyre'. The plot of the second novel is a secret so I'll tell you about the first novel. (1848 London, England: A young Victorian baker meets Lord Howell, a creature gifted with an unspeakable talent for magic. Her world is turned upside down when she is attacked only to wake up as a Vampire.)

I'm excited to join the writeblr community. I'm shy but I'd love to make some writing friends. I'm horrible at social media but I'm learning how to so feel free to follow me on the social medias.

[Instagram] [Wattpad] [Writing Blog] [Patreon] [Ko-Fi] [YouTube] [Spotify] [SoundCloud] [Other Tumblr] [Pinterest]

Dividers by the lovely @rosypotions

[servicereward]

A little late getting to this, but 18, 36, and 48 for the fanfiction ask game!

18. Do you enjoy research?  Which fic of yours required the most research?

I loooove. Research! I love it love it love it. The fic of mine which required the most is an unfinished WIP I've partially posted on AO3 for the Downton Abbey fandom - Three-Fold. It's a time-loop gothic horror story where I stick my three faves (Thomas, Phyllis, and Anna) into a big old pringles can. They are sent from the year 1927 back to 1914, just before the start of WWI. I worked on it right before Covid happened, and then spent a lot of time during Covid reading memoirs and non-fiction books about medical care on the front during that era. Also a lot of things generally like, what is someone's coat likely to be made out of in this era? Downton Abbey is the most research-heavy fandom of all my writing, because 1. I am not English 2. I want it to feel right and accurate to the period and shit changed stupid fast between 1890 and today! Also whose face was on the coin they bought milk with. Did they buy milk with coins? Was milk delivered? Etc.

But Gargoyles-wise, my most research heavy fic has been my WIP for Owen / Fox / Xanatos. I spent 45 minutes researching this one specific hotel in London only to discover it opened the year after I was setting the story...so I'm going to pretend in Gargoyle's universe it opened a year earlier lmao. The strangest thing I've ever researched wrt to writing is why people are into pretending to be furniture as a sex thing, among other fetishes. I think one of the best things you can do to make your p*rn better is to try and figure out why a certain thing might get someone else off (especially if it's not your thing in particular). Also if you had an upbringing where sex was shameful it's a good way to kill the puritan that lives inside your head.

36. What fic are you proudest of?

I am proudest of, at this moment in time, my Downton Abbey Magnum Opus, lol. But when I finally publish it, I think Orders of Service will be my proudest. One reason will be because I will have gotten my erotic writing to a place I feel comfortable sharing it and the other would be because I'm planning on waiting to publish until - get this - it's all done. Then I'd do weekly / bi-weekly updates on A03. I'm even planning on keeping my vintage author's notes since I wrote some of them multiple years ago, lmao.

48. Who is your favorite character to write for?  Has this changed since you’ve started writing for that fandom?

My favorite character to write of all time is in fact OwenPuck. I've been writing for him more or less consistently and the longest of all my writing projects. My first fic I ever posted online (which is not up anymore) was about him! I typically shy away from writing from a character's POV unless I feel like I can fit inside it like a glove. Walking in their shoes, so-to-speak. So for me it feels like it takes a lot of study. :) He's just so fun to me. And as I've gotten older, gained perspective on adult life, it's been fun to "upgrade" the OwenPuck-in-my-head, so to speak. It goes like this -> I file taxes -> how would OwenPuck feel about filing taxes? -> I decide -> OwenPuck update.

[eyeopeningarchivist]

Statement of Phoebe Morris

Concerning: The disappearance of her wedding planner.

Statement Taken: August 20th, 2013

Statement Recorded by Martin Blackwood, archival assistant at the Magnus Institute, London.

Statement Begins:

This happened just a little over a week ago and I'm... still struggling to comprehend it. Michelle and I had wanted to get married for quite some time. We just couldn't decide on when and where. She wanted to go somewhere expensive, extravagant, and grandiose but I wanted something more low-key. Something intimate and quiet. The only thing we could agree on was that we wanted to do it in another country. It was her idea to find a wedding planner and that led us to Philo Newcomb.

I... had mixed feelings about Newcomb from the beginning, honestly. He always seemed... I dunno, preppy? Eager? Overly friendly somehow. And I just wasn't quite sure he knew what he was talking about. I wasn't sure how you could make beige look garish and loud but his suit managed it and the ideas he had for how our wedding should look didn't sound much better but Michelle seemed to like him and he at least seemed friendly. It helped that the location he was trying to sell us seemed gorgeous. It was a massive estate in Mendoza, Argentina with a beautiful sunset view over the balcony. It was apparently owned by some local big shot lawyer in the area or something and Newcomb had been nice enough to pay for our tickets himself. So, I was split.

But then... he showed up. Philo was leading us down to the vineyard when a man in a security uniform stopped me. He was a rather large, bald man with a stoic expression on his face. His whole head seemed completely clean-shaven, not even a spec of stubble anywhere. And I remember his badge said "Tobias Rieper." He said "I think you should look at this" in an even tone and shoved a scrapbook into my hands. It contained... locks of hair... and pictures of corpses and... newspaper clippings of mourning brides and grooms over the course of decades. And on the very last page was a picture of Michelle and I on a date, with Philo's face crudely taped over mine. By the time I looked up, Tobias Rieper had already left.

I got Michelle out of there as fast as I could. I made some excuse about getting the flight bookings wrong and all but dragged her out of there. I-I didn't even explain anything until we got back to the hotel. I didn't even think to call anyone at first. Not until a few hours after we got back to our rooms. When I did pick up the phone, Michelle turned my attention to the tv. Philo Newcomb had been found dead at the estate. Having fallen over the railing from the top floor. With no suspects, police ruled his death an accident.

Michelle and I haven't discussed getting married since. We... need time. But, I thought that was it. That this was just a horrifying situation that we just barely got out of thanks to some help from a stranger. I didn't think there was anything supernatural about it. Until I tried to thank Tobias Rieper for his help.

From what I could find, there is no record of anyone by the name of "Tobias Rieper" working at that estate. Not as security, as wait staff, nothing. So I looked him up online. I got a ton of results online. A corporate liquidator from New York. An all star chef from France. But nothing about our mysterious security guard. But as I kept digging, I saw a pattern. There were never any photographs of him, but sometimes there were... stories attached. Stories about people meeting a mysterious stone faced, completely bald man named Tobias Rieper on the same day as a mysterious disappearance and never finding him again. Meeting a talented rock drummer the same day a famous rock star gets shot. Meeting a stone faced mechanic the same day as the grand prix accident. The name and face is always the same. The only thing that changes is the clothes. Like a mannequin trying on a new suit.

Statement ends. 

Notes:

We tried to look up this Tobias Rieper as well and, well, we found just as much as is mentioned in the statement. Tim did, however, manage to dig up the lowest possible quality photograph of someone who matches the description of Mr. Rieper, only this man is labeled as “Lutte Faucheur,” an ex accountant from around the Bordeaux region who was let go from his firm after claiming to have “Visions From God...” Something about his eyes in the photo... He looks tired...

As for the mentioned events, we looked into them just to make sure they all lined up and they do, the only detail missing being that Philo Newcomb’s death was ruled by the Argentinian... Argentine? Er, the police in Argentina said they figured he was drunk when he fell. No autopsy report was filed but given the nature of his death and the fact that it happened where it did, well, I guess they just put two and two together...

For what it’s worth, both "Lutte" and "Faucheur" are words in french... Lutte meaning "Struggle” and Faucheur meaning "Reaper..."

End recording.

{{I'm so sorry this took so long ;^; }}