#Agent Brexit

[amarriageoftrueminds]

But wait! There's more!

when I say she's a dumb person's idea of a smart person... this is exactly how dumb I'd expect that person to be ^

(related to)

#anti what if #antipeggy #antisteggy #cynthia glass #p*ggy meta #mcu critical #steggy is hydra trash party #meta #mcu meta #this twitter is one of the morons responsible for bringing us yet more thrilling episodes of: #Mary Sue #Fraulein White Feminist #Steve's Magic Talking Intestinal Parasite #Cap's Official Stalker #Agent Brexit #Captain Coloniser #RatCorp's Answer to a question No. One. Asked. #the Ultimate Pick Me #Flogging A Dead Nag #etc.

[azurecanary]

P*ggy: "Let's recruit "former" Nazis to help run SHIELD's science devision!"

Daisy: "You're telling me that this 20 year old goes on to help found a Nazi science devision? Aight, pull the trigger."

Yup, definitely besties /s

#i think out of the many mischaracterisations of daisy I've seen #her being best friends with captain brexit is probably the worst #granted there are others i don't like #but if people like those ones then that's fine #but THIS one #HOW #anti peggy carter #daisy johnson #mcu #agents of shield

[starsunderwaterr]

Sleeping with the Idols + Agent 8 + Cap’n 3! (pt. 4)

Hey hey hey we on the final part!! 

Cap’n’s part was super long because I love my little shy muffin and the 4 AM creative juices were flowing 

This was so much fun, feel free to leave requests!

(Y/N) — your name

(N/N) — nickname

All characters involved are 18+

Minors DNI

Warnings: PTSD episode, mentions of death, mentions of depression

Cap’n 3!

Had to save the best for last <3....and btw this one is super long, so I’m gonna split it into mini chunks 

Also using she/they pronouns for our Cap’n :>

Schleepovers!

Getting the Cap’n to trust you took...awhile to say the least

Years actually, but y’all can read about that when I post ab it AHAH-

Sleeping with them started out separately, as they weren’t ready for that much excitement yet, but you also lived in two different apartments, so it was just easier

The rare times you would have sleepovers, the two of you would sit next to each other and pass out on the couch next to each other watching a movie <3

If Three was feelin’ extra affectionate, they’d lean their head on your shoulder or slump into you a little more than usual

Since Three doesn’t really talk much, you read her well through her body language (and she loves that you pick up on this too)

You can really tell when they like something by how much they’ll look at you or how bright their eyes will get

and it’s sooooo cute bro omg

Sleepovers heal their inner child that never got to be a child

As time went on, and you guys got closer, she would start to use her words more with you, because they knew you were a safe space

You guys were talking about plans, and the possibility of a sleepover when you suddenly remembered you couldn’t go :(

Three looked up at you from their cap, “Sleepover tonight?” By her eyes, you could tell they really wanted to

You smiled, “Sure!” But right as you said it, you facepalmed, sighing.

“Oh wait! Cod...I’m sorry, Three...I forgot that tonight is my friend’s birthday party...” Three didn’t look phased, but their eyes dropped. 

“It’s okay.” Don’t get alarmed, Three wasn’t mad, they’re just very blunt! (they’re a very healthy person <3)

Buuuuuttt, to make up for it, you surprised them, and omgggggg BRO

You left the party early, explaining that you had something important to do

Being the cool partner you were, you decided to surprise your love by knocking on her door

and dude omgggg-

The look on their face when they saw it was you at the door?????

DYING it was ADORABLE

You knocked on the familiar apartment door, waiting patiently as you could hear shuffling from inside

A glimpse of their eye came into the peephole before the door opened a lightning speed and with godly force, Three standing there shocked in their pjs

“Hey.” You smiled, watching a smile come onto their face (and man were they trying so hard to hide it too)

“Hey...” Three mumbled, about to internally explode

COD THEY WERE SO HAPPY THAT NIGHT

Literally couldn’t hide their smile as much as they wanted to, and eventually just let it out <3

When Three got comfortable with physical affection, they got even more adorable

Will text you ab coming over a lot more bc they seriously miss being next to you when they sleep

Congratulations, you have been bestowed the Medal of the Safe Space!

She just gets so calm around you, and she can be pretty affectionate when she wants to be

The first time sleeping with Three was definitely one for the books

You let them come to you, and they did

They didn’t speak, but they spoke with their eyes, but you honestly were so tired that you didn’t get it shdhdefhhdhd—

You guys were on your sides facing each other, and Three kept looking from your eyes to your hand, which was laying right next to your face

You furrowed your brows, seeing her face heat up before she grabbed your hand and connected it with their own

You smiled in response, mumbling an apology before giving their forehead a soft kiss

Immediately hid their face- (IN A GOOD WAY I SWEAR)

If you guys are watching something, shoulders and legs are touching, I don’t make the rules

Likes kisses on the forehead and cheek (they make her smile :> )

One day Three sat you down and talked about possibly moving in together

You said yes in a heartbeat

Sleepin’ w/ Three is honestly pretty normal at first, kinda just sticking to each other’s sides but enjoying the warmth

But,,,,as time goes on, they start letting you know that they want a lil more love

Will hug your torso from behind and sleep like that a lot (does it unconsciously too)

Loves holding hands when you go to bed, or at least having a limb touch one of hers

She likes to know that you’re there and safe when they go to sleep because they worry ab you man

TIME FOR A BREAK SQUIDKIDS AND OCTOTOTS

Nightmares and Comfort

Bruh I ain’t gonna lie to you they have nightmares about hurting you or losing you a lot

If they’re not that bad (like once every 2 weeks or so) they usually wake up a little startled, but not enough to cause a disturbance

But, if they’re really stressed from their work as Captain or from other things, they happen more frequently, which causes a lot of insomnia

The worst part is that Three is always trapped in her sanitized self with no way out

So not only is it extremely debilitating for themselves, it’s debilitating to have the thoughts of not wanting to hurt the one you love but literally having no power over it

These kinda nightmares definitely wake you up, because it’s one of the only times Three either gasps loudly or lets out a small scream

The first time it happened, she was so hesitant to let you in

They actually ran into the bathroom and wouldn’t come out because they were so afraid to let you see them like this

But also, looking at you hurt too much

She never wanted to or wants to hurt you, even in arguments

The next time it happened, you were right there again, and as to not overwhelm her, you held their hand and helped to calm them down

Three jolted awake, a loud gasp leaving their throat as they clutched their chest

You sat up, your heart pounding as you recognized the situation right away, “Hey, it’s okay.” 

With tears in their eyes, they took a breath, nodding as they tried to catch onto a calmer rhythm 

You have to be very matter-of-fact with them; don’t sugarcoat it

But man, that look of pure fear in their eyes...it really pains you to see that

Sometimes it’s more severe than other times, and usually when that happens she’ll cling onto you in a hug that practically kills you

Eventually opened up to you about the nightmare, and explained why it makes her feel so on edge

Has cried about it, almost had panic attacks, but what they greatly appreciate (and I mean really appreciate) is that you are always there

Will pass out in your arms listening to your heartbeat afterwards (knowing you are in fact alive comforts her)

If they’re going through the insomnia, you’ll hold them on your chest and rub their back to help them hopefully relax into sleep

Even if it doesn’t work, she’s so comfy and content

Now, if the roles are reversed, and you wake up upset or crying, Three kinda does the same

They’ll instantly shove you into a hug and hold your head with the back of their hand as you cry

Quietly asks you what’s wrong, and if you’re going through it, you might even feel the lump forming in their throat, because it truly pains her to know that you’re suffering too

Will definitely cry with you and will wipe away your tears

Three really loves you, and they’ll do anything to make sure you’re okay

Will kiss you goodnight every.single.night on the cheek, and every time they do, they kinda hesitate before they do and it’s so goddamn cute bro omg

The two of you have had many late night deep talks about your lives and who you both are, and it’s been an honor to have her open up that much to you and talk to you that much

You never told them, and they’ll similarly never tell you, but the two of you both check up on each other in the middle of the night when you’re sleeping to make sure you’re okay

Sometimes you’ll both feel a little smooch on your head or cheek in the middle of the night and can’t help but smile after settling down

Overall, a more serious post, but one of the best slow burn smooch piles ever <3

#splatoon #splatoon 2 #splatoon 3 #captain 3 #captain 3 x reader #agent 3 #splatoon x reader #captain 3 headcanons #i am obsessed with them #i have a huge crush on them if you couldnt tell #day in the life of a true brexit geezer

[seachranaidhe]

1/ An Ombudsman's report details how DUP-founded and set up 'Ulster Resistance' which then partnered with the UDA & UVF to buy guns & grenades with stolen bank robbery cash, it would lead to mass murder & mayhem across the north.

1/ An Ombudsman’s report details how DUP-founded and set up ‘Ulster Resistance’ which then partnered with the UDA & UVF to buy guns & grenades with stolen bank robbery cash, it would lead to mass murder & mayhem across the north.

2/ ‘Journalists arrived at Ulster Hall, after hearing that the rally was being convened to mobilise what the next day’s newspapers described as a “secret army”They were refused entry, but a young DUP press officer called Nigel Dodds emerged to hand out leaflets’ 3/..but this was just the start…. 4/…later to be confirmed. 5/5 Conspiracy as ‘RUC Special Branch, BA Intelligence, & MI5 Secret…

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#Brexit #Brexit Sea Border #British State agents #Collusion #DUP #LCC #loyalist paramilitary violence #loyalist sectarian murder gangs #NI Protocol #North of Ireland #Relatives for Justice #Sean Of The South #Stephen Travers #Troubles #UDA #UFF and Red Hand Commando #Ulster Resistance #UVF

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

I very much agree with those comments. We can see it with Fury in TWS, the very moment he suspected there was something fishy going on, he acted upon those suspicions. He didn't look to the side and let things happen, he took immediate action.

They can't have it both ways. If we know that Hydra grew inside Shield because a lot of the people working there agreed with Hydra-like methods, that necessarily includes Agent Brexit whether they want to admit it or not.

And she didn't have to be actively involved in the Winter Soldier program or know about Isaiah Bradley, maybe she didn't. But the things she did know about, she was happy to either help or let happen: like the beginning of the Ant-Man movie. She knew what they were trying to do with Hank Pym's formula and she had NO intention to stop it - surely we realize the damage that could have caused if Hydra had gotten their hands on tech like that? It would have been huge and she was okay with it.

Oh, and if the Starks were carrying supersoldier serum in their trunk in 1991... what, she didn't know about that either?

And as if all this wasn't bad enough and required a morally grey status for her (and a little less self-righteousness too, please. She's not a hero)... we have to watch as the MCU calls her a 'female Steve' despite the fact that her morality and Steve's are exact opposites.

We got Sam getting mad at Bucky for Isaiah but nobody will ever hold Agent Brexit accountable for anything. It's a damn joke.

#anti peggy carter

[nordschleifes]

chapter five — inevitable

➝ trapped in imola after the torrential rains in the region, charlie and fernando are forced to cooperate with each other. however, what was supposed to be just one night in a tiny hotel in the city center becomes their moment of reckoning. and it only has one bed.

➝ word count: 9,2k

➝ warnings: panic attack, flooding, mentions of trauma, smut

➝ author's note: there is no little chapter here, as you can see. tagging @christianpulisic10, @alonsogirlie and @enaticosencantados as requested.

Leaning against the door of the white car, Charlie felt a strange feeling inside her chest as she stared at the bridge over the Santerno River, which was completely flooded. It was definitely not something she’d expected to see so close to the circuit.

— I don't think I'm going to make it through, miss — the taxi driver, a Moroccan man who spoke in heavily accented English, said.

— Is there no way across?

— I can't risk it, miss, I'm sorry.

She huffed in frustration. It was the last thing she needed that day, considering how hellish it had been so far. Charlie had left England early that morning after a battle of wills with Ron, who refused to get into his carrier to be taken to her grandparents' house. After arriving at the airport at the last minute, she had to wait for nearly two hours for the plane to take off for Zurich, where she would take another flight to Bologna.

There was another long delay from Zurich to Bologna, which turned an hour-long layover into nearly a three hour wait until her plane started boarding. Then, another hour of waiting on the runway for the plane to get takeoff clearance. It seemed like the universe was playing a bad joke on her.

It was already dusk when Charlie arrived at Imola, after spending even more time in passport control at the airport. “Thank you, Brexit”, she thought, as she put her passport in her bag and smiled at the agent who had finally stamped her entry document. However, instead of the charming city that she had visited several times, she found mud and destruction, the result of intense rains that had hit the region.

— Honestly, I don't even know if there will be a race if it keeps raining like this — the taxi driver said, as they followed the highway into the city.

It might seem like a selfish desire at the moment, but the last thing Charlie needed was for the race to be called off. She had gone through so much trouble to get to Imola that it would seem like an injustice. However, after seeing the bridge filled with water right next to the race track, the possibility seemed real.

— Miss? — the driver  asked — Would you like to go somewhere else?

Charlie sighed, trying to collect her thoughts.

— Let me check my phone, just a second — she said, as she sat back in the cab and dug through her purse for the device. However, Charlie had another unpleasant surprise when she realized that her battery was dead.

— Is everything okay?

— I'm out of battery — Charlie said, a frustrated smile on her face — Everything is great.

— Well, if you want, I can take you downtown. I know there are some hotels and hostels there. I don't know if any have vacancies, but someone will be able to offer you some help, I'm sure — the man said, giving her a sympathetic smile.

“It’s not like I have much choice”, she thought, before accepting his offer.

After reaching downtown Imola, Charlie paid the man and thanked him for his help. She walked through the streets with her backpack on her back, dragging her suitcase behind her, trying to identify on the signs something that indicated that there was a hotel there.

After walking four blocks and not understanding anything she'd been told other than "no vacancies" at two hotels she’d found, Charlie couldn't get the idea of sleeping on the streets out of her head, a daunting prospect considering how cloudy was the sky over the town.

However, Charlie’s chest filled with hope when she turned a corner.

Parked near the town square was a grey SUV that she recognized as an Aston Martin. “A DBX 707”, she thought. She walked towards the vehicle, thinking that maybe not all was lost, even when she discovered that the car was empty. Maybe the car’s owner was nearby. 

Releasing the handle of her suitcase, she walked around the car, spotting a Swiss license plate on the front bumper. “Maybe the owner speaks English”, she thought, smiling to herself.

— Charlie? — a familiar, accented voice said from behind her. As she turned around, she felt the smile fade and tension rise in her shoulders. Standing near the back of the car, wearing a dark green sweatshirt and holding a bottle of water, was Fernando Alonso — What are you doing here?

— What are you doing here? — she asked back, raising an eyebrow.

— I have a race here on Sunday, didn't you know?

— Of course I know, but — Charlie hesitated — It's Tuesday.

He smiled.

— I saw online that there could be problems getting there because of the weather so I decided to come earlier. And you, what are you doing here?

— I always come to the circuits on Tuesdays.

— Oh, I see — he said, taking a sip of his water — Are you staying around here?

— No, actually, I intended to stay close to the circuit but…

— The bridge is washed out — Fernando said — Yeah, I know.

— Were you going to stay at La Fondazza? — Charlie asked, as Fernando nodded — Did you already find another place to stay?

— I was talking to the people in the cafe about it and they told me about a place that might have a room. And you?

— I was looking for a place around here — she murmured, looking up at the sky at the sound of distant thunder. It made something tighten inside her chest — I've been to two hostels nearby but there's no room available. I don't know where to look anymore...

— Well, if they have room for me, they must have room for you. Do you want to come with me?

She couldn't hide her surprise at his offer. After feeling like she was at war with him for years, Charlie still wasn't used to him treating her with kindness. She dreaded this newer, softer Fernando disappearing any moment to make way for the Fernando she knew and hated.

— Yeah, I do.

She placed her bags next to his in the car’s lift gate and settled into the black and white leather passenger seat. As she buckled her seat belt, she couldn't help but notice the vehicle's dashboard and center console, whose design was strongly inspired by sports cars.

— Have you already seen the 707? — Fernando asked.

— Only from the outside, I've never been inside one — Charlie replied, her eyes glued to the dashboard — Which engine does it have?

— It's a four-litre twin-turbo V8, all hand-assembled. It produces 707 horsepower and more than 90 kgfm of torque. It has roller turbines and a different calibration to increase the turbocharger revs.

— Fantastic — she murmured as the driver pressed the button to start the car. The low sound of the engine made Charlie look up at him, a wide smile on her face. She was completely delighted — It goes from zero to 100 in about 3 seconds, doesn't it?

— 3.3 — he said, as he maneuvered the car out of the parking space — How do you know that?

— I calculated it in my head.

— So quickly?

— You know I have a degree in mechanical engineering and a graduate degree in automotive engineering, right?

— That doesn't mean you're necessarily good at mental calculations.

— But, I am. My grandmother was a maths teacher, so I grew up learning to love numbers. 

Fernando smiled as he made a left turn.

— So, your grandmother was a teacher and your grandfather was a mechanic?

— Well, sort of. My grandfather was in the Royal Air Force for a long time, and he worked on airplane engines. He has always been fascinated by engines and everything about them. He met my grandmother during a visit with her students to the RAF museum.

— And where do cars come into this story? — he asked.

— He always liked cars and racing. And, considering he had a wife and daughter at home to look after, once he left the military, he started taking jobs in a body shop in Birmingham. He still does that today, even though his focus is on older cars, nowadays. I help from time to time when I visit.

— And that means you know how to work with engines? — Fernando asked, looking a little surprised.

— Of course I do! — Charlie replied, indignant — Remember that I have a degree...

— Charlie, having a degree doesn't mean you know how to disassemble and assemble an engine — he said, looking both ways before passing through an intersection. The sidewalks were smeared with mud.

— The point is, I know how to work with engines. In fact, I’m comfortable with the entire drive train. It helped me a lot during secondary school, when I needed to save money for university.

— You worked in a body shop?

— No, at a kart circuit.

Fernando glanced at her, surprised.

— You fixed go-karts?

— Yes, I did. Why is that surprising?

— Because I also fixed go-karts when I was younger — he said — I needed money to race, so I took care of the younger boys' karts, since I was strong enough to tighten the wheels and adjust the engine. That’s how I met Alberto.

— Were you his mechanic?

— Yeah — Fernando replied, as he slowed down the car — I think this is the place they told me about in the cafe. Ziò, they said.

Looking out the window, Charlie saw that there was a burgundy sign with that word, along with the outline of a moon and three stars. It sure looked like a hotel.

— Yeah, I think so — she murmured as Fernando  parked the car between a Twizy and a Volvo.

They got out of the car and Fernando offered to take Charlie’s suitcase. Charlie declined, and they walked into the lobby and saw a man sitting at the wooden counter, seemingly distracted by something on the screen in front of him.

— Buonasera — Fernando said, making the man look up.

— Buonasera, mi chiamo Riccardo, como pode aiutarvi? — he said, smiling.

— Siamo del team Aston Martin e siamo venuti alla gara, ma la strada per l'hotel che abbiamo prenotato è allagata. Volevo sapere se avevi delle stanze dove stare per la notte — the driver said, in practically perfect Italian. Charlie, for a moment, wondered how he knew Italian so well until she remembered the five years he had spent at Ferrari.

The memory of seeing him for the first time, walking past her with a troop of Ferrari employees in Melbourne, made Charlie's skin tingle. “He should wear red more often”, she thought, while Fernando discussed something with the employee, the expression on his face looking less than happy with what he was hearing.

— Nessun'altra opzione, magari con due letti?

— Purtroppo ci rimane solo questa stanza — Riccardo replied.

Fernando sighed, before turning to look at her. He did not look pleased.

— They only have one room available, for two people.

Charlie pursed her lips thoughtfully. In an ideal situation, she would never consider sharing a hotel room with Fernando Alonso. However, this was far from an ideal situation. The entire region was in chaos, some hotels couldn’t take in guests, and the others were full. Most of the people due in town for the race hadn’t even arrived yet. A single room was better than none.

— Two beds? — she asked, with an almost naive hope.

— Just one — Fernando said — Look, it's not a problem for me, you can have the room and I'll find another place to sleep tonight...

— No — she said flatly — You found this place, it’s only fair that you stay here.

— Charlie, you're staying here, I'll find another place. That, or, I can sleep in my car, the seat is comfortable and…

— You're not going to sleep in your car, Fernando. You need to sleep well to perform well.

— So, what do you suggest?

Looking into Fernando’s brown eyes, Charlie hesitated for a few seconds. She knew she would regret it. “One night won't hurt anyone”, she thought.

— We can share.

He raised an eyebrow.

— Share?

— You know, when you distribute something proportionately between two people. I imagine you're not very familiar with this concept, but it's what normal people do, especially when they’re in situations like this.

Fernando rolled his eyes.

— I know what sharing is, I just didn't expect you saying you want to share a room with me. Especially after — he hesitated for a few seconds — Everything.

— So you can see the effort I'm making. 

He smirked.

— Don't worry — the driver said, before turning back to the hotel employee — Prendiamo questa stanza.

After settling into their room, a small suite with mint-colored walls and a wooden floor, they went to a nearby restaurant that Riccardo had suggested for dinner. When they returned, Charlie took a shower and put on a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt.

— Seagulls? — she heard Fernando say, looking at her t-shirt with a small smile on his face.

— Yes.

— Why?

— It's my team's symbol.

— Team? Like, football?

— Yeah. Brighton.

— Really? Aren’t you from Northampton?

— Yes, I am, but my grandfather is originally from Brighton, though, so I grew up supporting Brighton. Anyway, we’re having a good year. I think we will play in the Europa League next season. It will depend on this Sunday’s match.

— Who do they play against?

— Manchester City — she said, making him chuckle.

— Good luck to them — Fernando said, setting his phone on the bedside table — Difficult team to face.

— I know. We already lost to them this season, but we only need a draw — Charlie replied as he sat down on the bed.

— We just needed a draw too — Fernando muttered — But it was at their stadium…

— The game is at the Amex, not at the Etihad — she said she pulled the duvet up — It will be alright.

— We’ll see — Fernando said — Good night, Charlie.

— Good night — she said softly. Then, the room went dark.

Charlie thought that, with travel fatigue, it would be easy to fall asleep. However, she hadn’t factored in the weather. It had started to fall more heavily on the area by the time they had gone to dinner, which made her apprehensive. Fernando had even noticed her unease, but Charlie managed to play it down.

However, in the dark and quiet of the hotel room, the sound of the rain pelting the window glass and the thunder that made the walls shake, she felt her fear and anxiety growing. She remembered that fateful Friday morning, several years ago, when Northampton was hit by a massive flood over Easter weekend. She remembered things in flashes — the texture of her soaked clothes, the cold of the wind that stung her face, her grandmother screaming as they watched her grandfather get knocked off his feet by a rush of water and disappear beneath the muddy surface. 

“This can’t be happening again”, Charlie thought, remembering when she finally saw her grandfather in his hospital bed, covered with a thermal blanket and his hair still wet. Even though he was okay, his smile couldn’t take away the terror she’d felt from almost losing Jamie, the man who had loved her unconditionally and taken her in when Deborah decided she didn't want to be a mother anymore.

— Charlie? — she heard Fernando ask.

When she tried to open her eyes, she was blinded by the lamp turning on. After blinking a few times, Charlie felt his warm hand on her shoulder, thumb brushing against the fabric of her t-shirt. His touch made her freeze for a few seconds, her mind taking a few seconds to remember that she wasn't alone. “He can't see me like this, he can't see me like this”, she thought.

— Are you okay, Charlie? — Fernando asked her, his hand gently pulling her, making her turn to the other side, meeting his worried expression — Why are you crying?

She blinked again, her eyes feeling wet. Charlie hadn't realized that she was crying, but she couldn't answer his question either. She started crying in earnest, deep, sharp sobs that made her gasp. All she could smell was the putrid smell of floodwater churning the earth and mixing with whatever was washing out of the storm drains. She felt like a little girl, afraid of the cold, the murky water, the thunder — afraid of losing the people she loved in the water again.

Suddenly the cold dissipated. The smell of floodwater was replaced by something fresh and familiar. The sound of thunder subsided, giving way to something quiet and steady, a rhythmic pulse.

— It's okay — Charlie heard Fernando whisper — Nothing's going to happen to you.

— But… The water is rising so fast. It’s going to flood again...

— It's okay, calm down. You are safe. I’ve got you, nena.

Her fingers closed around the fabric of his shirt, and Charlie let herself be held. With the weight of his arms around her, the painful memories of the flood became distant, both in space and time. It was as if in that moment, wrapped in his body heat and in the fresh, lingering scent of his cologne, she was finally protected from all of it — from the cold, the wet, the pain of the past. She was protected from the turmoil building inside her.

She gradually managed to calm down as Fernando stroked his hand gently up and down  her back. With the soft, calming sound of his voice whispering in her ear, Charlie was finally able to fall asleep.

Daylight was streaming in through the crack in the curtain when she woke up, and rubbed her eyes. She'd slept terribly, courtesy of the awful dreams she’d had.

Charlie dreamed she was on the flooded bridge near the circuit with her grandfather. Jamie was determined to resolve the situation, especially after some kind of siren sounded through the city. Pleas for him not to leave her alone weren't enough to prevent him from jumping into the muddy water, then disappearing. She even tried to jump after him, but felt a pair of arms holding her tight, telling her that she "wasn't going anywhere".

— Good morning — she heard someone say.

 When she turned her head Charlie noticed that she was still in Fernando's arms.

— Good morning — she replied, trying to disguise the nervousness in her voice.

— Feeling better?

— A little, yeah.

— That's good — Fernando said, running his hand over her head, seeming to smooth the strands of her hair — I was worried about you.

She stayed silent for a few seconds.

— Why?

— Because you had a panic attack, Charlie, and a big one.

Charlie shifted her gaze to the lamp, trying to avoid his eyes.

— Since when has this been happening? — he asked softly, his fingers brushing her bangs out of her eyes — Is it often? Does anyone know about this? Have you talked to anyone about this?

Something his rapid-fire questions made her uneasy. It was as if Charlie had allowed Fernando to see too much of her vulnerable side, which she didn’t typically show other people in the paddock. She put a lot of effort into making sure that all anyone saw was the smart, decisive, woman, and not the scared little girl she was at her core.

But, in her terror, she’d let the mask slip.

Sitting up, Charlie tried to think of something to say. Maybe she would lie, tell him she was sleepwalking or it was a side effect of some medication. Maybe she'd say he was crazy and that she'd slept soundly all night. Maybe she...

— Charlie, are you afraid of rain?

She looked over her shoulder at him.

— Why are you asking?

— Because you said everything was going to flood again last night. That the water was rising too fast.

Charlie looked down at her feet and imagined them submerged in muddy water. 

— I'm not afraid of rain.  — she whispered — I just don’t like storms. Or floods.

— Why?

— Because I saw my grandfather almost drown in some flood water when I was nine years old — Charlie said, her voice cracking — It had rained a lot the night before. To help keep the street from flooding, he teamed up with some of our neighbors to try to clear the storm drains. But, the river near our house breached its banks and he lost his balance in the strong current, and fell into the water and got swept away. He was carried a few hundred feet before he managed to stop himself.

She had discussed the incident with Hannah a long time ago, but part of her still struggled with similar situations, like at the Belgian Grand Prix in 2021. Charlie never knew how to thank Daniel Ricciardo for lending her his headphones and distracting her with silly stories as the rain pelted down the circuit during the hours-long red flag period.

— What? — he mumbled.

— They found him holding on to a lamp post and took him to A&E. He was fine, in the end. He had hypothermia and he needed a few stitches. He was very lucky, according to the doctors. But seeing him getting swept away was enough to make me hate storms from then on — she completed.

— Is that why you asked me not to leave this morning?

Charlie turned to face him, confused.

— I didn’t ask for…

— You did. I was going to go for a run at dawn and you asked me to stay, and said that it was dangerous. So, I stayed.

— Why?

— Because you needed me.

— I — Charlie started to say, but stopped herself. She hated to admit it, but she did need him. Fernando had been her safe haven the previous night, without even questioning her or teasing her about it. Heaving a sigh, she ran a hand through her hair — I appreciate you helping me, I really do. But you didn't have to give up your plans this morning on my account.

Fernando sat back down on the bed and put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder.

— I didn't give up any plans. It’s fine.

— I imagine you have better things to do than stay here with me.

— I don't mind being here with you. In fact, I'm glad you feel comfortable with me — Fernando said, making her turn her face towards him. Charlie felt her heart race in her chest, her eyes suddenly drawn to his mouth. Maybe she should kiss him.

“No, Charlotte”, she scolded herself.

— I think I'll go brush my teeth and get dressed — Charlie finally managed to say.

— Sure — Fernando replied — Then, shall we get breakfast?

— Yeah, okay — she said, smiling a little.

The two of them went downstairs and had breakfast, mostly in silence, something Charlie appreciated, especially with the jumble of thoughts inside her head, However, towards the end of the meal, the hotel owner approached their table, looking delighted to have a Formula 1 driver there.

— Vorrei ricevere te e la tua ragazza in modo più adeguato, ma purtroppo la situazione non è delle migliori. Mi scuso per questo — the man said, smiling. Looking at Fernando, she got the impression that he was blushing.

— Nessun problema, la camera è ottima, così come tutto il servizio.

Once they got back to their room, Charlie reviewed the previous week’s sim data from Stoffel, and Fernando studied an old race. Then, he asked Charlie if she minded if he had a quick video call with Alberto. She couldn't help but watch him as he jabbered in Spanish with his friend, eyes twinkling as Alberto showed him something.

— Déjame mostrarle esto a ella, un segundo — Fernando said, showing her some drawings of some caps on his iPad  — Charlie, look at this and tell me what you think.

She smiled, glancing at the screen.

— Those are nice.

— Which one do you like best?

Charlie looked at the iPad again. Both designs were nice, but there was something about the camouflage pattern that reminded her of photos at her grandparents’ house from Jamie’s RAF days.

— This one — she said, pointing to the orange camouflage model.

— Great, thank you very much — Fernando replied, sitting back down on the bed — A ella le gusta el camuflaje, sigamos con ese, ¿de acuerdo?

They were returning to the hotel after lunch when Fernando received a call from Mike, confirming that the race had been cancelled. It wasn’t a surprise, especially after Nyck De Vries had messaged the drivers' Whatsapp group and said he was trapped in a village near Faenza, unable to reach Imola.

However, if getting there was a problem, leaving there would be too, and Charlie found that out the hard way in the afternoon. She sent a message to Sophie, the team’s travel specialist, to ask about her return to the UK. She got a response hours later, while she was watching the first episode of LOST with Fernando — he’d insisted, telling her that it was “the best series in the world”.

— Great, just what I needed — she mumbled, setting her phone in her lap.

— What’s wrong? — Fernando asked.

— Sophie said that the flights leaving from Bologna are all booked and that the best option right now is if I go to Milan and catch a connection in Frankfurt.

— Sounds reasonable — the driver said. Charlie looked back at him. He was sitting against the headboard.

— Of course it seems reasonable to you, you have a car. I don’t.

— I can take you — he replied quietly.

— The flight isn’t until tomorrow.

— And?

— You'll be leaving later today, right?

— I can stay one more night, no problem.

Charlie stared at him.

— You can?

— Of course.

— But, why?

— Because I want to, Charlie — he replied, putting one arm behind his head as he flashed one of his teasing smiles.

— That’s not an answer.

Fernando kept looking at her, seeming thoughtful, until he let out a sigh.

— Look, I’m not going to leave you alone here. What if you have some sort of trouble, and without knowing a word of Italian...

— I know some Italian, Fernando.

— Knowing how to order a spaghetti alla carbonara and water isn't knowing how to speak Italian.

— But it's something.

He huffed, sitting up in bed.

— It's not enough, and that’s not the point.

— And what is the point, exactly?

— The point is, have you forgotten what happened last time?

She blinked.

— You mean… In Jerez?

— Yes. The worst almost happened there — Fernando stopped for a few seconds — And I would never be able to forgive myself if something bad happened to you.

They remained silent for a few seconds, their eyes fixed on each other, as if searching for the right words. Charlie tried to find the courage within herself to finally ask the question that had been tormenting her for months.

— Why do you care so much about me?

Running a hand through his hair, Fernando sighed.

— Because I like you, Charlie — he said.

— Do you? But, like, do you like me as a co-worker? As a friend? You know we're far from...

— I like you as the beautiful woman you are — he said, making her heart skip a beat — I like you as the smart, extraordinary woman you are. I just like you.

— But, I thought…

— I thought I had made it clear how I feel about you in Miami.

— What, when you said I was a thorn in your side?

— When I got my hands under your skirt and squeezed your ass while you were kissing me — he smiled — By the way, you should wear that skirt more often, your legs are beautiful.

Charlie couldn't believe what she was hearing.

— Are you flirting with me? — she asked, almost naively.

— Well, you could say that. Though I’d rather be doing other things with you — he said, moving closer to her — Much more interesting things.

— And why aren't you?

— Because you haven’t asked.

A tingle raced over her skin.

— And what do I have to say?

Fernando smirked as he took one of Charlie's hands in his, examining the skin carefully before looking into her eyes.

— Just say 'please, Fer’ — he said, placing a gentle kiss on her fingers — And I'll do anything you want.

Charlie's mind was short-circuiting. Her heart was pounding.

Before she realized what she was saying, the words had already left her mouth.

— If you're going to kiss me, do it properly.

— Which are the magic words?

Charlie smiled.

— Please, Fer.

— Much better, nena — Fernando murmured, leaning gently toward her, his lips soft and warm against hers.

In Miami, their kiss had been feverish and desperate, but this one was just the opposite. There was no rush, there was no anger, there was no desire to prove the other wrong, but it was not lacking in any passion. Charlie felt Fernando's fingers slide through her hair as he guided her moves, his tongue carefully tasting her, as if he wanted to etch what she tasted like into her memory. However, she didn't have to. She remembered exactly what he tasted like.

"Sweet, salty, sour", Charlie thought, as her hands slid down his chest to the hem of his shirt. Her unsubtle hint made Fernando move back a little, throwing the shirt to some corner of the room. Then it was his turn to do the same to her, leaving her only wearing her cotton bralette.

— Hermosa — he whispered breathlessly, his hands cupping her face as he brushed his lips over hers — Tan hermosa, nena. La más hermosa.

Charlie had no idea what Fernando was saying but it excited her. She didn't know what it was about his voice that made whatever he was saying sound delicious, sublime. She pulled his body against hers and kissed him hard, because she was sure there was no better answer than that, because it was impossible to put everything she was feeling into words

Desire, happiness, relief, excitement; everything mingling wonderfully just below her navel.

Fernando leaned over her, making Charlie lie down on the mattress. She closed her eyes, and his lips began to move down her skin, kissing and nibbling, as his hands worked to get rid of her pants and underwear. The feel of the cool air against her pussy, completely wet already, made her gasp.

— Are you okay? — Fernando whispered, making her open her eyes. He was just below her sternum, the stubble on his chin brushing softly against her skin. She felt those tingles again, not from cold, but from arousal.

— Yeah, just… It's cold.

He flashed a smile, his eyes darkening with desire.

— It's okay, I'll warm you up — Fernando replied, giving her a mischievous smile before kissing the spot just above her navel. Then, he continued his trek downward.

Charlie felt butterflies in her stomach as she felt Fernando's palms on her thighs, spreading her legs further so he could have access to her pussy. She lifted herself up on her elbows and saw him staring between her legs before he raised his eyes to look at her.

— You're soaking wet, nena — he said, softly — Is this all for me?

— Yes — Charlie murmured, as she felt his fingers brush lightly over her pussy, as if he wanted to become familiar with every spot, every fold. She bit down on her lower lip and felt her legs tensing.

— I haven't even started — Fernando whispered with a smile.

She took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. If he hadn't even started and Charlie was already like that, she couldn't imagine what would become of her when Fernando actually started to touch her.

— What are you waiting for? — she asked, as she felt his thumb slide easily across her labia.

— Calm down — Fernando said — What an impatient little thing you are. I'll give you what you want, don't worry. But first, I want to play a little. Can I?

— Of course…

— Then… Let's play, nena. — he murmured, before plunging between her legs, attacking her clit with his tongue.

Charlie's head fell back, her elbows collapsing under the warm wave that coursed through her body. Her eyes closed and her body tensed, the air trapped in her lungs. Then, Fernando's tongue found a more sensitive spot and she gasped, loud enough for him to chuckle. The vibration had Charlie's fingers gripping the duvet beneath her in an attempt to keep still. 

It didn't take much for her to feel like she was at her limit already, her eyes shut tightly as he licked and teased her vulva. Despite not remembering being that sensitive before, there was something about the way that Fernando stimulated her that made the sensations more potent, a certainty growing within her: he definitely knew how to use his tongue, exactly as she imagined when she noticed it peeking out of the corner of his mouth while he was focused on some activity. 

— What a well-behaved girl you are — Fernando said quietly, as he used his thumb to draw circles over her clit. It was difficult, but she opened her eyes and found him with his mouth glistening with her lubrication, his eyes dark with desire — I expected a bigger challenge coming from you...

— Fernando — Charlie whispered, as he placed kisses on the inside of her thigh, his beard brushing the sensitive skin.

— Come on, nena, tell me what you want — he said, the words drawn out in his delicious accent — Tell me and I'll give it to you.

— I want you.

— But you have me — Fernando replied, bending down slightly and giving her pussy a lick. The sudden stimulus made her let out a groan, her nails digging into her palms — I'm here to do whatever you want. Just ask me.

It took Charlie's mind a few seconds to form a coherent sentence. She didn't really know what she wanted. She wanted everything and nothing, all at once. She wanted Fernando to make her scream, but also to just stay there with her, kissing her and looking at her with his beautiful eyes.

— Make me come — she said — Please, Fer.

He smiled.

— Good girl — Fernando said. He repositioned himself on the bed, his hands resting on her hips as a way to keep her still, he started moving his tongue against her clit relentlessly.

Charlie was sure she was going to melt. She held his wrists and arched her spine with each lick, feeling like a New Year's firecracker, rising higher and higher into the sky in anticipation of the impending explosion. It was delicious and maddening, all at once. But, if she was going to be mad, let the reason be that man whose head was between her legs.

Charlie opened her eyes slightly, finding Fernando staring at her, almost as if he was intoxicated by the sight of her, squirming in the pleasure that he was giving her, and that only he could give her. And it was in that split second that the sky inside her lit up, the explosion of pleasure causing Charlie to squeal loudly, much to Fernando's delight.

— That's it — he murmured, as he moved one of his fingers over her clit, trying to prolong her pleasure as long as possible as her muscles tensed uncontrollably  — That's my girl…

If he said anything after that, Charlie didn't hear it. Her mind was completely taken over by the pleasure that made her toes curl and her spine arch. It was delicious, sublime, unlike anything she had ever experienced. She could only moan, loud enough for everyone in Imola to hear.

Then, the sensation began to slowly dissipate. She was trying to catch her breath when she felt something warm near her navel. Then between her breasts and then on her neck. Charlie only figured out what it was when she finally felt it on her lips.

Fernando.

He was kissing her gently, the taste of his own pleasure on her tongue, making it all that much more erotic. “How could I resist you?” Charlie wondered, as she threaded her fingers through Fernando’s hair, pulling him towards her.

— Are you okay? — Fernando asked softly, brushing his nose against hers.

— Yeah — she said, in a thin voice. He smiled at her.

— You're beautiful, you know that? — Fernando said, bringing one of his hands to her face, brushing a few strands of hair away. She giggled and pulled him closer to kiss her with a little more intensity, her nails scraping down the back of his neck. As she moved her hips beneath him, Fernando smiled against her mouth.

— You want more?

— Yes, Fer — she replied, nibbling on his lower lip.

— What do you want?

It was a silly question, especially when Charlie was writhing under his body, still very obviously aroused. Sliding her hands to Fernando's face, she ran her tongue over her lips, her thumb lightly touching the scar at the corner of his mouth.

— I want you to fuck me.

He smiled, one hand resting on her waist.

— I do too, Charlie. It's what I want most now — Fernando replied, but there was an unpleasant pause in his sentence.

— But?

— I need to see if I have a condom.

Charlie blinked. She was a bit surprised by his concern, but in a way, it made sense. The last thing Fernando probably wanted in life was children, especially with a career as dangerous as his, and he had to take precautions. 

— No problem — she replied — I have some.

— You do? — he asked, raising an eyebrow.

— Yeah, in my bag.

— Why?

— To use, duh — Charlie said — I like to be prepared.

— Are you always prepared to have sex?

— Maybe, but they’re of no use when the guy on top of me would rather ask stupid questions than fuck me — she said, some irritation creeping into her voice. Fernando smiled mischievously. 

— You really are an impatient little thing — he murmured, giving her a delicate peck on the lips — Wait here.

He got up and went to Charlie’s bag, finding the two red foil packets quickly. She sat up and peeled off the bralette she was still wearing, running a hand over the marks the fabric had made on her skin. A shift in the mattress made Charlie look over to Fernando as he sat back down, already naked, and started rolling the condom over his shaft. However, instead of focusing on what he was doing, her eyes were drawn to the tattoo between his shoulder blades. It was the first time she had seen it up close and she couldn’t resist the urge to lean over to get a better look. 

— A samurai? — Charlie murmured, his finger tracing over one of the dark lines that formed the sword. Seeing his skin erupt with goosebumps at her touch made her smile.

— Yes — Fernando replied, as her finger slowly followed the line of the banner that went up his neck, kanji characters in red highlighted against the dark ink — It is a symbol of Bushido, a philosophy that I study, which is based on Japanese samurai and their code of conduct. To many people, it is very similar to Western chivalry, however, I believe it is closer to our concept of honor in battle.

— It's really pretty — she said, placing her hands on his shoulder and bringing her face closer to his — Even though you sound like a nerd talking about it.

Fernando turned his head in Charlie's direction, giving her a small smile.

— A nerd, huh?

— Yes, a nerd. The biggest nerd in the world.

Fernando placed a hand on her face, tenderly.

— We’ll see, nena — he said, before repositioning himself on the bed, with his back against the wooden headboard, one hand holding his cock, stroking himself to full erectness once more. The vision made a warm wave go over her skin — Come here.

Charlie smiled and crawled towards him. She threw one leg over Fernando’s body, leaning on his shoulders and positioning herself above his dick. A shiver ran through her body as she felt him brush the head of his cock lightly against her clit, teasing her. Meeting his eyes, anticipation coursed through her body in hot waves.

— Can I? — she asked quietly.

— Yes, nena.

She lowered her hips, feeling his cock enter her slowly. The sensation caused a long sigh to escape her lips, while Fernando let out a low growl, throwing his head against the headboard. Once she was fully seated, Charlie took a second to breathe and process the sensations coursing through her body as she stretched around him. The pressure and heat that filled her felt like so much all at once and, in a way, not enough.

It was electric. Sweet. Maddening.

— All good? — he asked, his voice strained.

Charlie nodded as Fernando's hands landed on her hips, his Adam's apple bobbing  as he swallowed, his eyes locked in hers, trying to concentrate on not getting lost in the sensation himself. Seeing him like that, enraptured by her body, by her touch, by her warmth, was delicious, and she wanted more.

Lifting her hips slightly, she felt the driver's thumbs press into her skin, a hiss escaping his lips. Charlie smiled, bringing her face closer to his.

— All this for me? — she asked, her voice teasing.

— Always for you, nena — Fernando replied, before kissing her slowly as he pulled her down again.

It wasn't long before she picked up the pace, going up and down his cock as moans filled the room. With her forehead close to his, she could see in his expression that Fernando was enjoying himself, his lips half-open as Charlie bounced on his dick. And that feeling of being the one pleasuring him was something amazing, powerful.

— You're so good to me, so good — Fernando murmured, his face against hers, his hands on her ass to try and control Charlie’s pace. With her hands in his hair, she allowed herself to be guided by him, feeling the bubble of pleasure rise below her navel. His movement was precise, making her clit rub against his pubic bone.

— My God — she moaned, as a warm wave spreaded through her body — Fuck, yes, just like that…

— So you like this? — he asked in a low tone, his lips brushing hers — You like to have my cock inside as I play with your clit?

— Mhm — Charlie nodded, as her nails scraped his scalp, as she could get him to get closer to her, even closer. As if they could become one in that bed, in that room, in that city. And there was nothing she wanted more than that.

And then, Fernando stopped.

A protest escaped Charlie's lips, her hips trying to move under his hands to no avail.

— Fer — she whimpered, her face close to his.

— Lay down on the bed, nena — the driver practically ordered, causing a shiver of excitement to run across her skin. Climbing off of him, Charlie didn't have time to feel uncomfortable with the emptiness without his dick inside her before he pulled her against his body, her back flush against his chest. With one of his arms wrapped around her torso, a sigh of pleasure escaped her lips when Fernando entered her again.

His pace was slow and provocative, his thrusts were long and accompanied by kisses and nibbles on the neck. Taking his hands to the arm that wrapped around her waist, Charlie felt like putty in Fernando's hands, completely at the mercy of his desire.

— Is that what you wanted? — he whispered against her skin — Was this what you were imagining when you saw me on the balcony that day?

A low gasp escaped her throat as she felt his fingers pinch her nipple lightly, her body tensing even more. He was going to drive her crazy, she was absolutely sure of that.

— You can't imagine how much I enjoyed seeing you there, watching me, devouring me with those beautiful eyes of yours — Fernando continued, each thrust eliciting a loud moan from Charlie's throat — Well, not just your eyes. I always thought you were beautiful, Charlotte. So beautiful…

— Fer — she moaned, throwing her head against his shoulder, her entire body begging for more of him.

— Your pussy is so soft, so warm, so wet, perfect for my cock — Fernando continued, while his hand squeezed her left breast — I wish you could see how well you take me. Next time, I'll fuck you in front of a mirror, so you'll understand what I mean.

Charlie groaned. She had completely forgotten every word in the English language other than ‘Fer’, because it was the only thing she wanted at that moment, in that bed. Him, only him, thrusting hard against her pussy as his hand massaged her breasts, pinching the nipples until they became rock hard.

And, when she thought that moment couldn't get any better, Charlie felt his fingers reach her clit. A whimper escaped her lips, the muscles in her legs tensing more and more.

— Are you going to come for me, nena? — he asked, not waiting for an answer to move his fingers even faster — Come for me then, show me how good I make you feel.

Resting her hands on his arm, Charlie continued to move her hips against his fingers, desperately chasing her release. And then, without warning, it arrived.

— Fuck!

The orgasm hit her like a sudden wave. As she gasped, her body arching forward involuntarily. Her heart was pounding in her ears and her vision had gone completely black as she shut her eyes tightly. There was only pleasure, pure and raw, capable of throwing a person out of space-time, into a state of complete ecstasy.

— ¡Coño, Charlotte! — Fernando grunted from behind her. Her reaching her orgasm must have pulled him along into his. She wanted to open her eyes and turn back in order to see him reach his own climax, releasing himself into the condom, and enjoying the expression of pleasure on his face, but Charlie was too spent.

She allowed her body to relax into his, nestling her head in the crook of Fernando's neck, trying to concentrate on her own breathing, which was all she heard until Fernando until the driver started mumbling things she didn’t understand in Spanish against her neck. She didn’t have the energy to ask what he was saying.

— Eres la mujer que me volverá loco, nena — he said softly, as he caressed her torso, holding her against his body — Y te dejaré hacer eso. Vuélveme loco, por favor. No te arrepentirás de esto, te lo prometo.

They spent about ten minutes, as far as Charlie could tell from the clock on the nightstand, in the same position, still enjoined, neither of them wanting to move. Charlie thought that there was something deeply intimate about having him going gradually softer inside of her. She’d never done this with any other men she’d been with. But to her surprise, it made her feel comfortable. Safe, even. It was a mystery to her why she’d resisted this for so long.

Fernando pressed one final, soft kiss to her temple before making a move to get up.

— Stay here — he said, taking his dick out of her and getting up. She squeezed her thighs together to try to get rid of the strange emptiness that she felt without Fernando's cock inside her. “This feels awful”, she concluded, shifting to look up at the bedroom ceiling. 

The sound of running water and footsteps made her look toward the bathroom door, where Fernando was walking back to the bed. He’d put his underwear back on and had a washcloth in one hand. He sat on the edge of the bed and put a hand on her knee.

— Can I clean you up?

Charlie blinked, not realizing what he was asking for a moment. Then, she smiled.

— Oh, yeah, yes, you can — she said, opening her legs slightly.

Fernando brushed the damp part of the cloth against her inner thighs, carefully cleaning the remnants of sex from her skin. When he brushed the fabric against her pussy, Charlie hissed.

— Sensitive? — he asked, pulling his hand away.

— Yeah, a little.

— Okay, I'll be careful — Fernando said, going back to his ministrations, the gentle touch in stark contrast to the way he touched her that had made Charlie come earlier.

He stood up again, leaving Charlie alone again, but returned holding her discarded panties, and a clean t-shirt.  

— I thought you’d want to put something on… To wear to bed, you know.

Charlie stared at the clothes in his hand.

— Yes, thank you.

She took them and slipped the clothes on, only stopping when she realized that the t-shirt Fernando had given her was far too big for her. She looked down and saw a colorful logo for Kimoa, the clothing company he’d started.

Fernando smiled at her, clearly satisfied with himself.

— Did you give me one of your t-shirts?

— Yes. Is that a problem? — he asked as he grabbed a bottle of water.

— No, but I have some in my suitcase…

— But you look prettier wearing mine — Fernando replied, approaching the bed — Water?

She accepted the bottle and opened it, taking a sip as he sat back down on the bed.

— Thanks — Charlie said, handing the bottle back to him. He placed it on the bedside table and laid down on the pillow next to her, resting his hand on her back.

— Come here — he whispered.

— Why?

— Because I want to cuddle.

Charlie couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

— Since when are you such a romantic?

— Since always.

— You never struck me as the romantic type.

— But, I am. And I want to show you.

She felt her heart pounding heavily inside her chest.

— Fernando…

— Come here, nena. Please.

Sliding down onto the duvet, Charlie lay down beside him, allowing him to envelop her body in a firm embrace as his lips placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. Surrounded by the warmth that emanated from Fernando's body and feeling his fingers lightly caressing her skin, she fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.

She woke up with something warm touching her face gently, almost carefully. When she opened her eyes, Charlie saw his eyes, the soft brown blending with the green, as if they were the very image of spring, full of life and hope. “Maybe this is why he looks so good in British racing green”, she thought. 

— Good morning, Charlie — Fernando said softly.

— Good morning, Fer.

— Did you sleep well?

— Yeah, like a log —  she replied, smiling — And you?

— Yeah, for a while. But I woke up at dawn with the rain and couldn't sleep anymore.

— Why?

— I was afraid the thunder would wake you up and scare you.

Charlie couldn't hide her surprise.

— I didn't think you cared about me that much.

Fernando placed his hand on her cheek.

— But, I do. More than you can imagine.

Placing her hand over his, Charlie couldn't help but feel butterflies fluttering in her stomach. The peace and security he made her feel was strange. It was a good kind of strange, though. She moved closer to him and let Fernando embrace her. They snuggled for a bit longer, the serenity of the moment interrupted when Charlie’s phone rang, Sophie’s name flashing across the screen. The woman gave her the details of her flight from Milan, and she hung up with a sigh.

— What’s wrong?

— Sophie said that I have to be in Milan two hours before the flight, but that I might encounter problems on the road and I should leave early.

— Do you want to leave soon? We can pack up, eat something, and leave.

— Is that what you want to do?

Fernando laughed.

— You're the one with a flight to catch, not me.

Charlie shook her head.

— Okay, we can do that.

The two got up, showered — together, at his insistence — and got dressed. After packing their bags, they had breakfast together and checked out. Charlie tried to thank the staff in Italian that Fernando deemed “terrible”. After putting their bags in the car, they left Imola on the E45 toward northern Italy.

The five-hour trip was peaceful and enjoyable. Charlie and Fernando talked about a lot of things, including how he had started racing when he was three after his father had adapted a kart for his sister Lorena, who was eight at the time, decided she didn’t want to use it.

— I still have the kart today — he said, — It's in Oviedo, in my museum.

— You have a museum?

— Yeah, I decided to open one after Flavio gave me my 2005 car as a gift for winning the championship. I tried to store it in my garage, but with everyone wanting to see it, I thought I'd better create somewhere to display everything related to my career. There’s even a kart track.

— Let me guess, you designed the track layout.

— I did — Fernando smiled, glancing at Charlie — I put all my favorite corners in it. By the way, I think you would like to drive there, since you like karting so much.

— I like karting, but I’m not that good of a driver. I’m not very quick.

— I can give you lessons if you like. I like to think that I know a thing or two about racing.

Charlie rolled her eyes, laughing.

— It would be an honor — she said, sarcastically.

They arrived at the airport just under two hours before her flight, which was impressive considering the traffic on the highway, the detours caused by the rain, and the rather long stop in Verona for lunch. As Charlie got out and got her bags, Fernando nervously ran a hand through his hair.

— I think this is my stop — Charlie said, putting great effort into trying to sound calm.

— Yeah, I guess so.

— Yeah…

— Do you need help with your things?

— No, I can get it — she replied, giving him a small smile.

— Oh. Okay, then.

Silence hung over them. Charlie didn’t know what to say. Did she say goodbye and leave without another word? Did she give him a hug and wish him a safe drive home? 

“For God's sake, Charlotte, he made you come twice last night. Say something”, she thought.

— Well, I guess I'll see you soon. Monaco, right?

— Yes, Monaco — Fernando replied, looking intently into her eyes.

More silence.

— This is ridiculous, right? — she whispered, a little embarrassed.

— Well, it's different, it's not ridiculous — the driver replied, giving a little smile — You will never be ridiculous to me.

Charlie looked at him again, realizing how much things had changed between them. They definitely weren't enemies, let alone rivals. However, they had stopped being just co-workers a long time ago.

She could contemplate whatever they were on the flight home.

— Can I kiss you? — Fernando asked.

— You can — Charlie replied, smiling.

He brought his face close to hers, placing a hand on her cheek. Then their lips touched lightly, almost as if he was afraid of breaking her. A few seconds later, he pulled away, but stayed close enough so that their noses were still touching. 

— Bye, nena. I’ll miss you.

— I’ll miss you too — Charlie said, before giving him another peck on the cheek and shutting the car door.

As she walked into the terminal, pulling her suitcase behind her, her heart felt light enough to carry her all the way back to Birmingham, no airplane required.

#fernando alonso #fa #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #fernando alonso fanfic #fernando alonso fic #fernando alonso x oc #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #formula one fic #formula 1 x oc #formula one x oc #f1 x oc #formula one fanfic #nordswrites

[reality-detective]

DJT's EXECUTIVE ORDERS

13818

● Confiscated private and corporate assets

● Seized the NYSE

● Blocking the property of those involved in serious human rights abuses or corruption.

Human trafficking

13848

● 13848 imposes certain sanctions in the event of foreign interference in any of the United States

Choice

13959

● Maintain American leadership in artificial intelligence

Khazarian assets confiscated

● Among the top 3 executive orders - many DS assets were confiscated and DS Agents reversed

○ 13818, 13848 and 13959

● The Space Force has EVERYTHING under control!

● DS money will be used up quickly

● All DS gold has already been confiscated (Vatican etc.)

● Wall Street, Washington DC, Vatican and City of London - all dead

● OPERATION: DEFEND EUROPE. This started March 17th 2020 and takes over the Vatican, it's the mafia and it's seizing all the Rothschilds central banks

● Brexit has severed the Vatican's ropes and stripped the Royals of all assets

● We're going to Tesla and metals instead of oil and gas

GESARA – Global Economic Security and Reform Act

● It should be implemented on 10/11/2001. Stopped by the Khazarian false flag event on 9/11

● Elimination of the national debt of all nations of the world

● No taxes. Only a fixed sales tax of around 15% on new goods

● Waiving of mortgages and other bank departments due to illegal government activities

● Back to constitutional law - get rid of the corrupt law of the sea

● Newly elected leaders - only 10% of current governments

● World peace for 1,000 years or longer.

● Eliminate all current and future nuclear weapons on planet earth

● Gold Standard!

● Introduction of new hidden technologies - 6,000 Tesla patents. free energy

● Build and rebuild in all countries at 1950s prices

● The power back to We The People. Global distribution of wealth

● Odin project = World EBS (Emergency Broadcast System)

- Benjamin Fulford

#pay attention #educate yourselves #educate yourself #knowledge is power #reeducate yourself #reeducate yourselves #think for yourselves #think about it #think for yourself #do your homework #do some research #do your own research #research everything #ask yourself questions #ask yourself #question everything #benjamin fulford

[zee-man-chatter]

https://nationalpost.com/opinion/britain-has-succumbed-to-the-the-tyranny-of-the-minority

Allister Heath: Britain has succumbed to the tyranny of the minority

The U.K. is now an elite dictatorship where majority opinions are crushed

Allister Heath,  The Telegraph

LONDON — Britain’s deranged war on cars, our looming ban on gas boilers, the debanking scandal, the failure to prosecute crime, the attempted cancellation of women, the sabotage of the Brexit agenda, the scale of migration: welcome to anti-democratic Britain, where the beleaguered majority is increasingly subject to the whims of an entitled, activist elite that often seems to despise the people over which it exercises so much power.

All the policies listed above share a devastating commonality: they are deeply unpopular, and would be crushed in a referendum after a fair campaign, were the politicians courageous enough to grant the public a say (in the case of Brexit, they did, of course, and continue to this day to resist implementing the revolutionary change implied by the vote).

In a truly majoritarian society, one where the demos actually exercised kratos, no form of crime would be tolerated, and certainly not burglaries or muggings. Nobody would dare to indoctrinate school children with extreme trans ideology, and the green agenda would be centred around urgent technological innovation rather than seeking to prevent working people from flying to holidays in the sun.

Yet we live in a very different political reality, one in which public opinion is flagrantly disregarded whenever it doesn’t align with the views of the ruling class. Westminster has become cartelized: the large parties are committed to an unrealistic dash to net zero, refuse to discuss the gargantuan cost involved and omit to mention that Britain’s carbon emissions are about three per cent of China’s. On the great subjects of our time — family policy, the size of the state, the NHS and even planning rules — there is little difference between Tory, Labour and Lib Dem MPs, disenfranchising millions.

The intellectual conformity is stultifying, and has been reinforced by the emergence of an all-powerful Blob, the nexus of mandarins, policy advisers, quangocrats and other government agents, a class of “public servants” who don’t really like the public and are increasingly convinced that they have a constitutional duty to constrain and contain elected politicians. They are experts at delay, prevarication and lawfare, and are cheered on by the left-wing activists who have taken over the legal profession, our cultural institutions, academia, charities and even many big companies.

Thus even in the rare instances when the Tories attempt to think the unthinkable and respond to public opinion, as with the Channel crossings, the system does its best to block any change, empowered by quasi-constitutional legislation such as the Equality Act, the Climate Change Act and our membership of the ECHR.

The upshot is an extraordinary disempowerment of the electorate: is it any wonder that some voters fear we risk becoming a democracy in name only? Take the absurd war on cars: a tiny minority of activists, council planners, devolved administrations and ministers are seeking to discourage the mode of transport that the vast majority of the population relies on. Or consider immigration, which is a lot higher than the public would like: all potential solutions to reduce numbers while preserving the economy are lambasted as gimmicks, meaningless or self-evidently stupid. The Tories have promised to cut numbers in every single one of their manifestos since at least the 1990s, and yet aren’t even pretending to try any longer. How does this not disastrously undermine trust in politicians?

Until recently, all parts of British society bought into the democratic ethos developed after the great voting reforms of the 19th and 20th century, or at least paid lip service to it. It was deemed snobbish to dismiss the views of ordinary voters out of hand, and borderline insane to seek to reverse the expansion of the consumer society.

That consensus, already left fragile by the Blairite legal revolution and his massive increase in the number of university graduates, was finally shattered after the 2016 Brexit referendum. Most of our institutions are now controlled by a pseudo-meritocratic elite convinced that only it can prevent the masses from reverting to ignorance, racism and prejudice.

Our new ruling class is paternalistic, messianic even: in a post-religious age, it has taken on the role of priest and saviour of the common people. It still occasionally feels the need to legitimize unpopular ideas by pretending that they garner majority support, hence all the polls “proving” that people support net zero. Yet when asked to pay the price in terms of actual cash or drastically reduced convenience, the public immediately rebels.

There was a time when we worried, rightly, that the tyranny of the majority was the main threat to freedom and prosperity; today, it is the tyranny of the minority that poses the greatest danger. Our new task is to prevent the majority from being oppressed: how do we stop the capture of every institution by the radical left? How do we make Parliament more representative, and reduce the power of the Blob? One answer would be to use a lot more referenda, as the Swiss do; another would be radical reform of the civil service, turning ministers into CEOs with proper control over mandarins.

I’m well aware that the majority can have bad or evil ideas, or vote for maniacs. We need to retain — and in some cases, further develop — protections against majoritarian abuses, even if some of the current ones are no longer fit for purpose or have been hijacked. Elites have helped drive much good social change in recent decades, including by fighting racism and prejudice against all sorts of minorities.

But the pendulum has swung too far away from majoritarian rule, and too much power handed to social engineers. Today, the problem doesn’t lie with the public, which is largely tolerant and liberal-conservative, but with the elites, who have become authoritarian and anti-democratic, captured by wokery and a dislike of material aspiration.

What we call populism, in the current British context, is really the majority trying to reassert itself. Voters are developing a new form of class consciousness; “motorists” are becoming a political force. The Ulez fiasco is acting as a gateway, normalizing opposition to other excesses.

The message to politicians is clear: start listening to the voters again, or else Britain will soon face a popular uprising orders of magnitude greater — and more unpredictable — than Brexit.

The Telegraph

#britain #minority politics

[whatevergreen]

What does Charborough Park, Dorset (above) and Drax Hall, Barbados (below) have in common?

Both belong to the super-rich UK Conservative MP Richard Drax.

Also... slavery

Drax Hall Estate: is a still operating 621 acre sugar plantation owned by the Drax family since the 1640s. Dubbed a 'killing field' it is estimated that close to 30,000 enslaved African men, women and children died on the Drax Caribbean plantations over 200 years, while the Drax family made enormous profits. The family also part-owned at least two slave ships.

By 1832, shortly before slavery was abolished, there were 275 people enslaved on the plantation producing 300 tons of sugar and 140 puncheons of rum. Though slavery was abolished during 1833-1834, abuses still continued.

The Drax family meanwhile received compensation for the end of slavery. Records show John Sawbridge Erle-Drax was awarded £4,293 12s 6d - worth £3M today - for 189 slaves.

The Barbados MP Trevor Prescod commented that “The Drax family had slave ships. They had agents in the African continent and kidnapped black African people to work on their plantations here in Barbados. I have no doubt that what would have motivated them was that they never perceived us to be equal to them, that we were human beings. They considered us as chattels.”

The Drax family also expanded into Jamaica, but sold those estates in the 1850s.

Barbados and Jamaica are rightfully seeking reparations from the Drax family.

In 2021 it was claimed that the current Drax Hall workforce earns as little as £24 a day (half the Barbados average wage), and the modest retirement bonus of workers has been axed.

Charborough Park: is a 7000 acre estate flanked by the longest brick boundary wall in England. Stretching for miles and consisting of nearly 3 million bricks, it's mockingly known as the Great Wall of Dorset.

The Hall is the ancestral and current home of the Drax family.

Author Nick Hayes has commented that "this wall, surrounding the grounds of Charborough House ... was built by Richard Drax’s ancestor, John Sawbridge, who married into the Drax dynasty, and who was able to finance the build following a recent windfall from his sugar-cane estates in the Caribbean – although the money came not from his sugar, but from his slaves."

English plantation owners including the Drax family used the vast profits from slavery to buy land (once common land) back in England, which often came with a parliamentary seat before later reforms. So in other words the profits of slavery effectively provided their political careers, as they stole what was once public land.

Nick Hayes: "The interior of the Drax estate tells a silent story of what the colonialists did with their property. The purchase of land secured a firmer grip on power, not just in one lifetime, but for many generations to come. Farming, forestry, pleasure gardens, hunting, shooting – all of these became reliable sources of income, an accumulation of private profit in direct proportion to the dispossession of the commonwealth. In fact, what happened abroad – the mining of minerals, the rent on land, the dispossession of the locals – were colonial methods first practiced on English soil, as the landlords colonised the commons at home."

A further 125 properties in Dorset alone brings the total land ownership in the county to around 14000 acres. Drax owns other estates across the UK.

Harrow educated Richard Drax is worth an estimated £150 million. A far-right Tory MP (and sometime BBC journalist?!) since 2010 and the sixth of that family to be an MP, he is a rabid Brexiteer, opposed to such as covid lockdowns and the minimum wage. He was caught underpaying some of his Dorset employees in what was claimed an "error" - he seems to make many such "errors" such as failing to declare ownership of the Drax Estate as a member of parliament.

In 2010 Richard Drax stated that “I can’t be held responsible for something 300 or 400 years ago. They are using the class thing and that’s not what this election is about, it’s not what I stand for and I ignore it.” On this Nick Hayes commented "Blunt, but effective, especially since the education system and institutions of England have followed the same approach." 

Whether Drax acknowledges it or not his position, his entire life, wealth and career is a consequence and benefit of the slave trade, a trade that ended less than 200 hundred years ago on his Barbados estate - which continues to exploit its workforce to the present.

David Comissiong, Barbados ambassador to the Caribbean Community, said: “This was a crime against humanity and we impose upon him and his family a moral responsibility to contribute to the effort to repair the damage.

You can’t simply walk away from the scene of the crime. They have a responsibility now to make some effort to help repair the damage.”

As an MP, Drax has supported lowering welfare benefits, ending educational financial support for 16 to 19-year-olds, and the imposition of the ��bedroom tax” on poor council tenants. During an immigration debate in parliament Drax - the owner of a 7000 acre estate with little but a mansion complex built upon it stated “this country is full”.

And Drax is just one of many similar people in the UK (and beyond).

#barbados #sugar #dorset #richard drax #parasite

[ceevee5]

“On 31 October, after four postponements to get infrastructure in place, the UK will finally introduce checks on fresh and chilled food imports. The EU has already introduced its checks, which come with a vast amount of paperwork and significant costs. The impact on the export of fruit from the UK to the EU has been dramatic, reducing the value from £248.5m in 2021 to £113.8m by 2023, a drop of more than 50%. Now it’s going to work the other way. EU producers of meat products wishing to export to the UK will have to employ a vet to certify their goods, which will cost up to €700 a time. All sectors will have to employ agents for data entry compliance which could add another €200. They will have to train themselves on the paperwork. Then, come January, there’s the border inspection charge of up to £43 for each consignment regardless of whether it’s physically inspected or not. Faced by all of this, thousands of small producers from across Europe who have kept this country supplied with a fabulously diverse range of quality products will simply decide it’s not worth the trouble. They’ll sell elsewhere. The quality of our lives will be diminished.”

#uk politics #brexit #food politics #fruit #meat

[amarriageoftrueminds]

I'm convinced that miss Brexit herself knew about Bucky being TWS and probably saw him in that chair, looked him in the eye, and said nothing. And knowing what I know about her, she probably had a sick thrill seeing the person Steve wanted more than her beaten down and brutalised. It makes me furious.

*EDIT*

What If...? season 2 confirmed she did know, and would have no problem using Bucky as Hydra did.

.

Original answer:

She may be stupid and oblivious...

(see, eg: not being able to spot a real spy outside a secret lab, not being able to spot that a real spy is living next door until they're kissing her on the mouth, needing to have how many sides a cube has explained to her, needing Jarvis to explain that she shouldn't throw a large heavy object out of a window while she's handcuffed to it, not understanding how interrogation / lying works in her short film, etc. etc.)

...But she's far too nosy not to find out for decades!

Especially not when Howard already knows (meta here and here), and Zola's working in the same place as her, under her employ (which she insisted nobody else but she had control over, in her Ant Man cameo... where she's working with another Hydra agent, Mitchell Carson).

And when she is personally, singularly responsible for hiring not just Zola but the other Hydra scientist personally responsible for the WS mind-control program (Johann Fennhoff).

Unlike her irrelevance to Steve's story, (that 'failing the sexy lamp test' I've banged on about before), she is absolutely instrumental in bringing about Bucky's WS arc. In fact, if you deleted the character entirely, Steve's arc would be no different at all but Bucky's would be immeasurably improved!

(And her being instrumental in the WS program creation means, as a knock on consequence, that if you delete her you'd also free a lot of the Black Widows, and possibly also Taskmaster, since Dreykov was only able to keep them enslaved with research stolen from the WS program. Yikes. And she's known about the Red Room child victims already since the 1940s.)

Her What If episode has Peggy casually hinting at having tortured Zola... whom she happily works with in her next What If episode. And that Ant Man cameo has her telling SS Officer Werner Reinhardt/Daniel Whitehall that she considers his work "valuable" and worth hiring him for (in the exact circumstances she worked with Zola in What If). And Reinhardt later goes on to torture people (though no doubt he had tortured people already during the war). So canon strongly suggests she's got no problems with torture.

And if Howard was there with his buddy 'Arnie', torturing Bucky, (pretty likely, since he's the one with WS in the 90s) the way Peggy lets Howard get away with doing bad things without criticism in CATFA, (which they ineptly tried to retcon in her show), suggests she'd just do the same over.

To play devil's advocate for a moment, though:

Due to the strong vein of misogyny that runs through the writing of this character (AKA, men writing what they think are strong female characters), there is a certain amount of evidence to support a reading where Peggy really is just an oblivious posh twerp?

A white feminist nepobaby glass ceiling hire, brought in under the auspices of Daddy / Daddy's Friend the Senator / Fiancee in Home Office / Brother in Old Boys Network / Millionaire Sugar Daddy / dining out off Alleged Ex Flame's Fame, etc. Basically just there to catch the heat for the men who don't listen to her (the real movers and shakers), because she's conveniently stupid and well connected, and too arrogant to believe that anybody else could possibly be in charge while she's around.

But her serial incompetence is more an accident of the writing than what they were actually aiming for. What they were aiming for, and think they've achieved, is 'Peggy is the boss of Everyone and can do everything the men can do, backwards in high heels!!' Where 'everything' means 'decades of Nazi collaboration and condoning torture.' 😬

Her own show demonstrates that she's happy to free villains and work with them, multiple times (or perhaps, that she's stupid enough to fall for it when villains transparently goad her into freeing them? 🤔). Because she cares most about her own pride; about showing off and looking good ('I, however, am not afraid of you') so as not to be thought inferior to the men whose respect she can't admit she desperately craves. Far more important than something boring like keeping people safe, or doing her actual job. 🥱 Beneath her dignity!

(Try to picture consummate spy Natasha doing any of this! Or Coulson! 😂)

So, if you did believe in an an 'oblivious bullying posh idiot / scapegoat hire' reading, I can easily see a scenario where Peggy finds out that Bucky is alive, and is being tortured, and simply has no problem with it just because some SHIELDra employee tells her he's a Bad Man.

She never knew Steve or Steve's friends well enough to see the nonsense in that, after all. And according to her show, the only reason Steve himself had any moral sense, she believes, is because she was there to provide him 'courage, strategy, and moral guidance.'

(The fact that Steve always did the exact bleedin' diametric opposite of whatever she said, if he listened at all... doesn't seem to have occurred to her?? 🤔)

So can't you just picture a scene where she, Saint Margaret, sanctimoniously lectures poor Bucky on being a terrible person, while he's strapped into the electric chair, not understanding who she is or what he's done wrong? 😥 (No doubt followed by her flouncing off dramatically, thinking she's done the Men's Job for them.)

Canonically, as per CATFA, she lacks the requisite humility and common sense to realise that someone (anyone!) could matter more to Steve than her (which, after all, isn't hard; they never even went on a date.) But there's something about the sinister way they have her stepping into Bucky's shoes, even taking over his war record, without ever mentioning him (other than to sneer at a radio show character with his story but her name).

A Watsonian explanation of this is that, subconsciously, Peggy does recognise Bucky's greater importance to Steve, and wishes he had never existed. Probably the Rat writers projecting onto her! 🙄

#shieldra founders #long post #antipeggy #antisteggy #cynthia glass #p*ggy meta #mcu critical #steggy is hydra trash party #meta #mcu meta #toAyourQ #dat's me #hey nonny #bucky barnes #bucky meta #mcu #ngl CATFA kinda reads like a lying cash-grab biography of a GreatMan written by a groupie who wants ppl to think GreatMan dated her #there may come a day where I can answer an anon ask about pggy in a brief paragraph... but it is not this day 😔 #remember folks: REBLOG 🔁 / DON'T JUST LIKE 🤍

[therese-lokidottir]

I saw this in the comments section for the Nostalgia Critic's review on Wish, and it made me think, "Yeah, Disney in general does seem to have a problem with protagonist centered morality in their stories, both MCU and non-MCU."

Like, I think this really is on display when it comes to What If...?'s favoritism for Peggy Carter Agent Brexit, or the way Sam is handled in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier.

Though at the same time, they also have an issue with stories that try to frame the title character as a "bad guy" to prop up new characters (like they do with Loki in Loki).

So I skip both Quantumania and Wish. I have not seen either of them and I have no plans to. But something to note about Disney animated films is its been a long while since they've had a traditional bad guy, some of them barley have antagonists, it almost like they forgot how to write.

I've heard a lot of people discuss the lost potential of Wish and something I've gathered is earlier scripts made what was bad about the king taking wishes much clearer, where the final film is vague at best. Again, I didn't watch it I don't know what going on. But seems to be the problem is the film not willing to take risk and is more focused on references to other Disney films.

I think maybe the Quantumania is that they're really into disrespecting Scott. But in the first two movies, Scott starts off as down on his luck. The first movie is Scott right out of prison and struggling for work and his ex-wife is mad at him because he can't get his act together. The second film is him under house arrest and Hope and Hank are mad at him because his teaming up with Captain America and getting arrested forced them into hiding. Now Scott in the third film is a celebrated hero and Cassie is mad at him, because? Because people were mad at Scott in the first two movies and they have to keep that trend going.

The conflict between Scott and Cassie should be it's been six years and Scott doesn't know who Cassie is as a person. It would be one thing if Cassie was sad and was misplacing anger and resentment about not having her dad in her life. If the conflict was, she is a growing into adulthood and was being treated like a young child and she resents. But instead it seems to be she's annoyed with her dad, because Scott gets no respect, and everyone looks down on him.

That seems to be the trend in a lot of MCU's leading men, people look down on them and say they suck. And after so long when we see them struggling and save live and become heroes when people disrespect them and say they suck it make the people saying that look like jerks.

#asks #mcu salt #again I can't get too into I haven't seen these fims

[oldshrewsburyian]

As much as I'd love to talk Carré, I gotta admit I've tried and failed to get through even one of his novels. (I had to do research to even find out which it was, it was The Spy Who Came In From the Cold). It's really a tragedy, as someone who is SUPER into spy stories, political thrillers, and cold war history esp. re: the GDR, I was so ready to enjoy this book. But it just gave me nothing I enjoyed and I gave up halfway through. Also read excerpts of Tinker, Taylor for university and while that was a little better, I can't say I felt the need to get the full novel either...

Is there any novel of his that is markedly different in style or should I just give up on Le Carré if I didn't like that one?

I'm very glad that you've asked this question so that I can say: please, do not give up on Le Carré! One of the things I love about him is the variety of his novels, the precision of their individuality. Also, I'm trying and failing to imagine how reading excerpts of Tinker, Taylor, Soldier, Spy would work, because while the prose is gorgeous, it doesn't strike me as, really, an excerptable novel. A word in defense of TSWCIFTC as well: when I first read it, in my early twenties, I rather forced myself through much of it it, not seeing, really, how it all added up: the deliberations, the compromises, the aspirations, the betrayals. And then I got to the end, started weeping, and immediately started rereading it to try to force the novel and the characters to some other conclusion.

Anyway! Other Le Carré recs: A Small Town in Germany, perhaps the most Austenian of his works, about the functioning and functionaries of Bonn, and postwar/Cold War anxieties in the Bundesrepublik.

For late Cold War anxieties, there's A Perfect Spy, about the (mis)education of a British spy, and the myths and vulnerabilities of the Old Firm. The Russia House is a particular favorite of mine, with the US, UK, and USSR anxiously figuring out what the parameters (and vulnerabilities) of glasnost are, and people figuring out what heroism is required to live with integrity in an era of inhumane states and... I just love it a lot.

You might also enjoy his more recent political thrillers, whether about neocolonialist exploitation (The Constant Gardener,) Islamic fundamentalism and western cynicism/hypocrisy (A Most Wanted Man,) or the feverish extremism of the Brexit/Trump era (Agent Running in the Field.)

#john le carré #espionage #spy novels #so delighted that my 'talk to me about le carré' ploy is paying off #the spy who came in from the cold #a small town in germany #a perfect spy #the russia house #the constant gardener #a most wanted man #agent running in the field #book recommendations

[richmond-rex]

Gregory re-imagines the Tudor accession and Henrician Reformation as fatal lapses in England’s past. Her conservative depiction of a Reformation England held hostage by cosmopolitan usurpers trampling on rights and traditions decouples the notion of English exceptionalism from the anti-Catholicism that has previously informed it and codifies present-day national grievances. Her Tudor England is severed from its past, and the forces that have invaded it are degenerate, degraded and culturally bereft. Her Henry VIII, who embodies Kingsnorth’s culture-sapping beast of progress, along with his agents, the men of nowhere, can be read in the contemporary context as the tyranny of Brussels, cosmopolitans, and the so-called metropolitan elite [...] Gregory writes a nation rooted in class and ethnicity (ultimately the basis of racist thinking) that is hostile to change and to those deemed outsiders. Given the sales figures of her books, there is every reason to regard her historiography as influential and certainly as a barometer of English consciousness in the age of Brexit.

— Siobhan O’Connor, ‘Brexit and the Tudor turn: Philippa Gregory’s narratives of national grievance’ | The road to Brexit: A cultural perspective on British attitudes to Europe (2020)

#philippa gregory #tudor history #once again shoutout to @bisexualstruggles #for providing me with a copy! #historian: siobhan o'connor #the road to brexit

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

🤦‍♂️

It amazes me the lengths to which some people will go to defend her. Anybody else would be condemned on the spot, but she gets a pass every goddamn time.

Yes, the Wakanda Files confirm she shut down the investigation, we're not told why though (so much could be said about that). But most importantly, all these discussions always miss the point, I think. We can argue all day long if she knew, if she didn't know, if she didn't want to know... fine. But the truth of the matter is she knew who Zola was, what he had done, and she still willingly worked alongside him.

Nobody was forcing her to work for Shield. If she couldn't stop Howard and Phillips from hiring him, she could have quit. Ideally, that would have been the ethical thing to do. It comes to an easy dilemma: they wanted him for his scientific talent but he had been working for the nazis (so, he was a nazi). Whether you choose to ignore that fact and work with him is up to you: Howard was fine with it (even had a nickname for the guy, so they were at least friendly to each other), Phillips was okay with it... and so was Agent Brexit here.

In an alternate story where Steve lands the plane and goes back to NYC safely, can anyone imagine him being okay with that? This guy? 👇

Or would this guy would actually do something like this? 👇

Steve wouldn't have given a damn how precious or how beneficial Zola's knowledge could have been, he would have moved the Earth to stop Shield from taking him in, he would have never accepted him let alone worked alongside him. But Agent Brexit chose to work next to him for DECADES.

So honestly, the arguments about whether or not she knew (of course she did), or whether she had the power to do something about it (of course she did) are important, but this? This is the biggest issue for me because every single day she woke up she chose to go to work with Zola.

When Fury found out there was something fishy inside Shield he took immediate action, putting his life at risk in doing so. This woman looked elsewhere and let a nazi roam freely inside Shield and the US. I will never understand why she gets a pass, but then again it's the MCU we're talking about... (the TVA workers just followed orders, right? 🙄🤦‍♀️)

#anti peggy carter #steve rogers

[eaglesnick]

“Intellectual neutrality is not possible in a historical world of exploitation and oppression.”  Elisabeth Schussler Fiorenza

Rishi Sunak invited the British people to judge his fitness to be Prime Minister on the outcome of five pledges. One of these pledges was to stop asylum seekers crossing the Channel on small boats.

"...we will pass new laws to stop small boats, making sure that if you come to this country illegally, you are detained and swiftly removed." (Rishi Sunak: January 2023)

The people behind the small boats crossing, the people smuggling gangs, have been described by the Home Office as “heinous criminals and organised criminal networks.”

Defending her Rwanda Deportation Scheme to discourage illegal migrants, Suella Braverman, Home Secretary said:

“We want to ensure that people understand they shouldn’t make the journey in the first place because they will be removed if they do so. That will stop the people-smuggling gangs."

All very laudable Ms Braverman and definitely a vote winner for the Tory Party. Such tactics worked brilliantly during the Brexit campaign. We all remember the slogan “take back control of our borders”. It was powerful then and it is powerful now. Unfortunately, the slogan has turned out to be totally hollow, as hollow as Rishi Sunak's and Suella Braverman's pledge to limit migration. 

While all the headlines concerning migrants centre on illegal migration, overseas workers are pouring into Britain by the back door, many of them the victim of legalised people traffickers.

This is a headline from one week ago:

“Modern slavery helpline calls surge from care staff."  (BBC News: 22/10/23)

Unconscionable businesses have been recruiting staff from overseas to work in the care sector, with many of these workers being  charged thousands of pounds  for that privilege.

“The cost of sponsorship is a few hundred pounds, which is met by most care companies… a few unscrupulous employers and agents are charging workers as much as £25,000, adding interest and deducting the debt from their wages.” (BBC News: 22/10/23)

How this “legal” trafficking of migrants differs from that of the illegal Channel crossing traffickers is hard discern. In both cases migrants are being used to line the pockets of unscrupulous gangs. What is more, many of the legally sanctioned migrants that go on to look after our elderly and sick relatives are totally untrained.

According to the National Care Association, over 60,000 overseas workers have been recruited in the past year, leading to many untrained staff being sent to care for our  old, sick, and vulnerable citizens. What is more, many of these migrants are being forced to work excessive hours as well as having to pay massive recruitment fees.

Unison found that migrant workers were required to be on permanent call, had to work 19-hour shifts without a break, and had wages withheld. (Guardian: 10/07/230

The government response to this shameful situation was to say that those operating illegally “COULD” face prosecution.

Not WILL face prosecution but COULD face prosecution. So while my and your vulnerable relatives are being “cared" for by an exploited, modern-day slavery workforce, many without the skills to do so, the government will consider whether to prosecute those responsible or not.

Meanwhile, the people traffickers organising the illegal Channel crossing continue to be castigated as “heinous criminals” and “organised criminal networks” which Rishi Sunak and Suella Braverman have "vowed" to stop.

Such a shame they don’t apply the same moral outrage and indignation when it comes to the businesses exploiting migrants working in our care sector.

I know what my judgement is on Rishi Sunak's fitness to be Prime Minister.

#uk politics #rishi sunak #suella braverman #migrants #exploitation #care workers #excessive hours #illegal charges #immoral business #vulnerable #old sick