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dirtyvulture · 11 months

Text

Ceremony

Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Sergeant!Reader

18+ only read at your own risk

Summary: You get some (very nice) awards for your actions during Operation: Avalanche.

Word count: 1834

AN: Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

This is Part 4 of my Sergeant Beef AU, following the events of this fic.

“Why is all of this necessary?” you whine, pulling at your stiff collar. Natasha slaps your hand down as she fixes the medals and ribbons on your chest.

“This is what you get for almost getting yourself killed,” she replies, although there is no malice in her tone. “Don’t worry. We can go back to my place afterwards and–”

“Finally,” you interrupt with a grin.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she chastises again, although you know she’s just as excited as you are to be back on your home turf for the first time in months.

“How do I look? Would I pass your inspection this time?” you ask as she backs away from you, surveying you up and down. You’re leaning on one crutch still, but you’re glad that you don’t have to use a wheelchair anymore.

“You look fantastic,” Natasha says, leaning in for a soft kiss. “Ready?”

“Let’s do it.”

She walks at your pace as you hobble out of the parking lot, joining the large group of people gathered on the lawn of the park. Most of them you hadn’t seen since before your deployment, which at this point feels years ago. Your entire team is here too, all of them crowding around you for hugs and handshakes. There’s too many things to be said but no privacy to say them in, so you promise that you’ll give them your time once you return to the base. Men and women with more medals and ribbons than you can count come over to thank you and wish you well. It feels odd being the center of attention and you’re not really sure you like it.

Peter Parker brought along his Aunt May and she gives you a hug that almost lifts you off the ground. She cries into your shoulder while thanking you for not leaving her nephew behind and you unexpectedly get a little choked up yourself.

There’s also a camera crew from the local news station that asks you to sit down for a brief interview. You see Natasha watching you from behind the camera, a mixture of pride and worry on her face for you. She knows this event is emotionally and mentally draining for you, but she can’t be happier to be here celebrating your achievements with you.

After the interview, you sit with her in the front row, you on the aisle side because you need space for your crutch. General Fury goes up to the stage and gives the opening speech.

You zone out, hearing your name said a few times, but you don’t really care. Natasha nudges your knee with hers and you look up at her. She smiles bracingly which you return half-heartedly.

“I would now like to welcome Sergeant Y/N to the stage,” Fury says, as everyone erupts into applause. You grab your crutch and Natasha stands with you. Slowly, you limp to the steps of the stage, Natasha hovering behind you carefully. You hop up each step, your face hot as you feel all eyes on you and you pray that you don’t accidentally trip in front of them. “Sergeant Y/N,” Fury says as you approach him. He is mindful to offer you his left hand so you can leave your right one holding onto your crutch.

“It is with great honor that I present to you today the Purple Heart Award and the Distinguished Service Cross, for your bravery and actions during Operation: Avalanche. You did not hesitate to put yourself in certain danger to ensure your team’s safety, and because of your sacrifice, all six members of your team are here today. Thank you for your service and dedication to protecting this country, Sergeant Y/N.”

The applause sounds louder up here than your seat, and you stand tall as Fury pins your two new awards to your chest. Natasha is standing, probably clapping louder than anyone else, and her reaction makes you feel happier than the two awards you’ve just been given.

“Thank you, General,” you say, saluting him with a tight voice.

“Don’t thank me, Sergeant Y/N. I didn’t even write the speech,” he teases, standing next to you and posing for some pictures.

***********************************************************************

After the ceremony, you skip your own after party to go home with Natasha. You give everyone the excuse that you’re tired, which isn’t technically a lie, but now you just want to spend time with Natasha. She brings you to her apartment, which is bigger and nicer than yours, but you don’t even have a second to revel in its familiarity when she pushes you into the bedroom.

She helps unbutton your shirt, being very mindful of your new awards, taking it over to her closet to properly hang up. You can’t help but smile at how respectful she is when it's normally a desperate frenzy to get you undressed. You toss your crutch onto the floor, leaning most of your weight on your left leg while trying to simultaneously unbuckle your belt and take off your pants without falling over.

By the time she comes over to you, she’s already naked herself and you can’t help but moan when she presses against you, skin-to-skin. She wraps her strong arms around your waist, helping keep you upright, leaning up to kiss you. You can tell she’s trying to be gentle with you, but you can feel her passion with the way her hands possessively run up your sides, skating carefully over the new, large scar along your ribs. Her nails dig into your back muscles to press you against her harder.

“Nat,” you whisper when you start to feel your right leg shaking. You know you lost some muscle mass and definition being cooped up in a hospital bed for months, but Natasha doesn't seem to mind. You're also embarrassed that you can’t stay standing for long, but Natasha pulls away to take your hand and lead you to the bed. You limp after her, immediately dropping to your knees on the mattress as she lays down in front of you.

“I really want you, Y/N,” she says, practically devouring you with her eyes alone. “But if you’re not up to it, I can wait.”

“I want you too, Nat. So much,” you reply, starting to jerk yourself off to hardness. It’s been months since you’ve had an opportunity to have her like this; as often as her visits to your room in the hospital were, you weren’t well enough to engage in her favorite activity the way you used to. It had been hard on both of you to have to wait, and part of you was nervous that you wouldn’t last that long or didn’t remember how to please her.

“Okay. How do you want me?” Natasha asks, and it’s unusual for her to let you decide. But she seems to understand the importance of going at your pace and doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable.

“Uh…on your knees?” you suggest, not even sure what you’ll be able to handle. As long as the movement was minimal, you figure you’d be okay.

“Okay.” Natasha kisses you again before turning to face away from you, presenting her perfect backside. Instinctively you grab onto it, shuffling forward until your cock bumps against her butt. You’re already throbbing at her touch but you want to make sure she’s near the same level as you.

You bend forward, your side protesting a little at the movement, but you push through, slipping your arm around her waist to drag your fingers through her folds. Natasha puts her hand on your wrist to guide you better, and you start panting in anticipation when you feel how wet she is.

You dip your fingers into her while circling her clit and her body stiffens underneath you. You’re just glad you’re doing something right as she ruts back against you with a whine, guiding you to move faster and deeper.

“Fuck, I think I’m already going to cum,” Natasha admits, tightening around your fingers. She forces you to stop moving so you wait for her next instruction. It makes you feel a little bit better that you’re not the only one with decreased stamina. “Are you ready, babe?” she asks. “I want to cum with you.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you say, looking down at your hard cock that’s standing almost at a 90-degree angle.

“Okay. Fuck me good, Y/N.”

Her words turn you feral almost instantly and you steady yourself by holding onto her waist with both hands, maybe a little harder than you intend because you don’t know how much longer you’ll be able to keep yourself upright, even in this kneeling position. The tip of your cock brushes against her hot center and this time, you don’t wait for further permission to enter her. You push in, her tight heat surrounding you, and you have to bite your lip to remind yourself not to cum immediately.

“Fuck, Nat,” you grunt, afraid to move while you adjust to how perfectly she stretches around you. Your cock twitches when she pulls you in deeper and you finally move your hips in time with hers, although a little more slowly than you would have liked.

You moan like you haven’t been fucked in months, which is technically true, and Natasha pulses harder around you when she hears your reaction to her. She pushes back against your abs with some force, a little afraid that she’ll knock you over, but she’s so desperate to be filled by you. Her toys, her hands, and even yours would never compare to your cock.

The bedroom quickly fills with the slick noises of your cock sliding in and out of her pussy. The pain in your side and thigh starts to become noticeable even with the numbing pleasure between your legs, and you realize you have to finish soon or you won’t get to at all.

“Nat, I…I need to cum,” you beg, hoping she’s at her peak too.

“Let go, babe,” Natasha says, curling her hands into the blankets and lifting her hips higher so you can piston against the sensitive spot inside of her. It takes a few more strokes that almost have you seeing stars before you unload, arching forward to bury yourself to the hilt as you pump out your seed in a few hard bursts. The pressure of being filled is enough to send Natasha over the edge, her cum dripping onto your cock as you pull out and collapse next to her on the bed, your chest heaving and sweat collecting around your neck.

Natasha reaches out to you, wrapping herself around your body like a koala bear. Although she would love to go another round with you, she can tell you’re too exhausted and doesn’t want to push you. So as you slowly drift off to sleep, Natasha whispers in your ear how much she loves you and how she’ll never take you for granted again.

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AN: And things are basically back to normal for these two! :)

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader

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itadores · 2 months

Text

anything for you.

note: my beautiful princess tsubaki <3 had this idea on my mind for a bit, so i hope you enjoy!

pairing: tsubakino tasuku x gender neutral reader

word count: 1.8k

tags: gender neutral reader, he/him pronouns used for tsubaki, vague descriptions of violence, established relationship, fluff, pet names, reader is an acts of service kind of person

it’s in the heat of a fight when it happens.

tsubakino and the jikoku unit are on patrol when one of the townspeople informs them that some punks are causing trouble on the outskirts of makochi. they are quick to intervene, and the fight they find themselves involved in isn’t difficult by any means, each member of the jikoku unit able to take on their opponent with ease.

the guy that tsubakino’s facing is rather unimpressive, but he’s able to get a lucky hit on tsubakino. the punch doesn’t hurt in the slightest, but tsubakino notices something right after he gets hit.

the shift in tsubakino’s energy is nearly palpable, causing some people involved in the brawl to freeze. the twins pause from fighting for a moment, meeting each other’s gaze and sharing a look before turning towards tsubakino. there’s only one thing that would set their captain off like that.

tsubakino has chipped a nail.

tsubakino’s opponent appears to notice him inspecting his nails and scoffs. “aw, is the princess upset because she ruined a nail?” he taunts. a foolish move considering it only serves to anger tsubakino more.

“my partner just did my nails,” tsubakino smooths his skirt out before turning his attention to the punk responsible. “and you just had to go and mess it up.”

the man must have come to his senses because his hands shake as he holds them out in front of him in fists. he tries to step back, to put some distance between himself and tsubakino, but it’s futile. in one smooth kick, tsubakino knocks him out.

tsubakino turns towards the rest of the jikoku unit with a tight smile on his face. “let’s make this quick boys!”

members of the jikoku unit follow the command from their captain, no longer taking the time to leisurely play around with their opponents. they knock out the men with ease, pushing them out of town with their tails tucked between their legs.

“great work guys!” tsubakino’s smile is no longer as tight as before as he praises his unit for a job well done. “that’s the end of our patrol, so you guys are free for the rest of today!” he says, clapping his hands together.

with tsubakino's dismissal, most of the jikoku unit disperses, saying their goodbyes as they pass by their captain. the only people who stick around are his vice-captains: the sakaki twins.

"that includes you two," tsubakino says, wagging a finger at his second-in-commands, "you're free to go."

"we'll see you tomorrow," uryu says, dipping his head slightly. uryu and seiryu begin to walk off, but seiryu makes sure to sneak in a cheeky comment before they can get too far.

"enjoy your time with your partner, tsubaki!" there's a knowing look on seiryu's face as he waves goodbye over his shoulder.

"i will," tsubakino replies, smiling.

once his team is out of view, tsubakino takes his phone out and pulls up your contact. clicking the call button, tsubakino raises the mobile device to his ear. it only rings once before you answer.

"hello beautiful," you say in a sing-songy way, making tsubakino's smile widen.

"hi baby," tsubakino coos. he draws the phone closer to his ear as if it will bring you even nearer to him. "what are you doing?"

"nothing much," you sigh, "just getting some work done at home. what about you? you should be done with patrol by now, right?"

"yeah, i just finished! had to sort some guys out who were causing trouble on the edge of town, and one of them messed up my nails," tsubakino pouts as he inspects his nails again. the damage isn't devastating, but his one chipped nail already bothers him.

"are you alright? no injuries?" you ask, concern seeping into your voice.

"no injuries," tsubakino promises, sweet and reassuring. although tsubakino can take care of himself, which you're more than well aware of, he knows that you can't help but worry about him.

"good. good," you say, sounding relieved. "if you're free right now, do you want to come over to mine? i can fix your nail since i know it's going to bother you if it doesn't get fixed soon," you lightly tease.

"that sounds great,” tsubakino beams. “i'll pick up some snacks and drinks for us on my way over, so i'll be at yours in half an hour or so?"

“sounds perfect, my love. i’ll see you soon.”

tsubakino and you exchange goodbyes and i love yous before ending the call. he then begins walking back towards the center of town, thinking of what he wants to pick up for you two to share.

although the decision is really made for tsubakino since many of the townspeople offer him food and drinks as he passes by their establishments. he tries to turn some of them down, but they insist, placing to-go bags directly into tsubakino's hands for him to take. once tsubakino's hands are completely full, he opts to take side streets to your place instead of the main road. it's thankfully quieter on this route, and no good-natured shop keepers offer tsubakino any of their goods.

tsubakino arrives at your front door, a little less than half an hour after the call ended with you. he lightly knocks on your door, unable to do much more with his hands full. he can hear the pitter patter of footsteps before the door swings open, revealing your beautiful face.

"hello gorgeous," you greet before quickly ushering tsubakino inside. "let me take these from you. thank you so much for grabbing something on your way, you didn't have to."

"thank you honey." tsubakino gives you a kiss on the cheek, leaving behind a light imprint of his lipstick. "and i was planning on buying us some snacks and drinks, but the townspeople essentially shoved these into my arms as i was passing through the center."

"ah, as they usually do?"

tsubakino hums in response, wrapping himself around you as you unload the food and drinks tsubakino was provided with onto your kitchen table. you lean back into tsubakino's hold, pressing a kiss into the column of his neck.

"do you want to eat right now or do you want me to fix your nail first?"

"are you hungry?" tsubakino asks in return. "or thirsty?"

you make a contemplative sound. "not really. i can fix your nail first and then we can eat afterwards?" you suggest.

tsubakino drops his chin onto your shoulder, squeezing you a little tighter. "sounds good, baby."

"how about you go take a seat at my work station, and i'll join you after i quickly clean up here?"

tsubakino releases his hold on you and follows your suggestion. he makes his way through your apartment, pushing the door to venture into your bedroom. your work station is in the far corner of your room, and tsubakino takes a seat in the chair that's unofficially designated as his.

you’re not far behind him, entering your room only a few minutes after tsubakino takes a seat. you take the seat opposite of him, flipping on your desk lamp and making yourself comfortable.

“okay, let me see the damage.”

tsubakino places his left hand in your open palm, allowing you to inspect his nails and see how your work has held up from his fight.

"at least it's only one," you murmur, rubbing the pad of your thumb over the nail of his index finger. the red polish that you previously used to paint tsubakino's nails has chipped off in some places, exposing his nail bed.

you let go of tsubakino's hand, so you can pull open your desk drawers. "you can play some music in the background if you want, love," you say as you dig through your drawers to locate the supplies necessary to repair the chipped polish.

tsubakino pulls outs his phone from his pocket, opening up the music player app and putting the playlist you made together on shuffle. music suddenly fills the room, playing at a low volume from his speaker. the corner of your lips quirk up into a smile as you continue placing everything you need onto your desk.

you gently take tsubakino’s hand, beginning the process of carefully taking off the polish on his left index finger. tsubakino props his elbow onto your desk, resting his chin into his open palm, content to watch as you work away.

you're mostly relaxed, singing along quietly to the song playing in the background but from time to time, your face will scrunch up slightly in concentration, careful to not mess up tsubakino's other nails or smear any of the ruby red polish onto his cuticles. you’re too cute. tsubakino's so lucky to have a partner like you.

you're so supportive of him and his interests. you've always been like that. you often send him links to fashion articles or posts you think he would be interested in and enjoy surprising him from time to time with new hair, skincare, or makeup products you think he would like trying out. he appreciates how you've also tried to familiarize yourself with his interests, whether its through your own research or by asking tsubakino questions when he's talking about the latest fashion trends.

however, tsubakino was most touched when you offered to do his nails for the first time, shyly informing him that you've been trying to teach yourself how to do nails, so he wouldn't have to pay and go to a salon to get it done. you profusely apologized when they turned out a little wonky the first time you did them for him, but that's still tsubakino's favorite set he's ever gotten done because you did them for him.

you've definitely improved over time and grown far more confident in your skills. tsubakino thinks you could make some real money doing people's nails, but you brush him off whenever he brings it up, saying that you're content with having one client.

it doesn't take you long to finish fixing up tsubakino's nail. you carefully look it over for any imperfections, turning tsubakino's hand slightly from side to side before you appear to be satisfied.

"all done!"

"amazing work as always!" tsubakino praises, holding his hand up to admire the job you've done. you really are so talented.

"you flatter me, love," you say, laughing lightly as you put your equipment away in your desk drawers. once everything is in its place, you dust your hands off and offer a hand to tsubakino. he places his hand in yours, smiling when you kiss the back of it.

"shall we go eat now that's taken care of?"

"we shall."

tsubakino allows you to lead him out of your bedroom and into your kitchen, smiling the whole way through. he really is so lucky to experience a love like yours.

#wind breaker x reader #windbreaker x reader #tsubakino x reader #tsubakino tasuku x reader #tsubaki x reader #new.mail #from.wind breaker #love.tsubakino tasuku

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thatsrightice · 4 months

Note

are there any excerpts from Crosby’s memoir about Gale you could post, if that’s alright? I’m really curious about him!

Thank you for the ask, I am more than happy to oblige! Just as a little note, I think both Egan and Cleven were nicknamed Bucky, but the show made one Buck and one Bucky so that people wouldn’t get them confused. Also, Crosby never really mentions Cleven without mentioning Egan which is kind of a testament to their relationship. There’s a lot of them btw so most of them will be under the cut! :)

"You fly tomorrow," Bucky Elton told us. He was Squadron Operations Officer. Both leaders had the same nickname. In the Group we had Bucky Egan, Bucky Elton, and Bucky Cleven. Cleven and Egan were best friends, top flyers, devil-may-care. All the 100th pilots wanted to be like them.

"What I can't really handle is that when Cleven and Egan were still around, the men were happier. With them gone, the heart of the 100th has stopped beating." - Harry Crosby

Then come the four squadron commanders, with Bucky Egan and Bucky Cleven together. They, more than any other of our leaders, had the real Air Corps raunch, their hats cocked on the backs of their heads. Egan's white fleece-lined jacket is his trademark. They both are wearing white scarves.

Egan and Cleven trade quips with their men as they walk forward. I don't normally use the word "debonair," but that's what they are. Bucky Cleven and Bucky Egan are like what their men saw in the movie I Wanted Wings. The men wanted leaders like that. Cleven's real first name is Gale, and Egan's is John, but I never heard either name used.

The two Buckys talk like Hollywood. The first time I ever saw Cleven was at the Officers' Club. For some reason he wanted to talk with me, and he said, "Taxi over here, Lootenant."

The Group Navigator [Omar Gonzalez] is a first lieutenant from San Antonio, Texas. Because of his skin color and his quiet diffidence, he doesn't belong up there with the boisterous, swaggering Egan and Cleven. Egan calls him "Pancho." Cleven calls him "Omar the Tent Maker."

When we all assembled on the airfield for parade, our lines were straggly and our men out of step. When the squadrons stood by for inspection, Colonel LeMay didn't see Cleven. When he asked where the squadron commander was, the first sergeant responded, "He took to the woods." This did not surprise LeMay who had heard from our previous commanding officers, Turner and Huglin, that Cleven and Egan were at the root of the 100th's raunchy discipline.

On the next day, Bucky even gathered up the enlisted men who worked at 350th Squadron Headquarters and told them he was going to make up for the indignity they had suffered the day before. He took them out to the flight line and loaded them up in an old stripped-down B-17E, which our group brass used for joyrides and taxi service. Since it had no guns or armaments, it was light and Cleven could fly it like a P-39 fighter plane.

Apparently Cleven had phoned some of his pilot training classmates who were now assigned to P-47's and arranged a surprise. The E was hardly off the runway when it was "attacked" by three American fighters.

For the next twenty minutes, Cleven-whose superb skill as a pilot no one questioned-wrung that old plane out as though it was a Piper Cub. He twisted and turned and plunged, all in a simulated dog fight with his three fighter pilot chums. The three Thunderbolts buzzed the 17 and came within inches of it.

The ground-duty enlisted men in the plane probably never forgot that flight, but it hardly was what the 100th needed at that time. When the fight was reported by the British Home Guard observation team, the report did the 100th no good.

The "Two Buckys," John Egan, commander of the 418th Squadron, and Gale Cleven, of the 350th, were the heart of the original 100th-dashing, undisciplined, superb pilots, exactly what Hollywood expected them to be. When they were shot down, even over Bremen (October 8, 1943), and Egan over Münster (October 10), the 100th was devastated-and a new era began.

We knew that Bucky Cleven's plane had been hit badly just before Regensburg, and we had heard that he and the pilot, Norman Scott, had differed about what to do. When we got on the ground in Africa, there seemed to be no tension between the two of them, and Scott was laughing and joking just like the rest of us.

According to the Lay report, after the hits, the pilot had pleaded with Cleven to abandon ship. When Cleven refused to ring the bell, Scott had gotten up and started to leave alone. At this point, "although the odds were heavily against him, Major Cleven's reply was as follows: 'You son of a bitch, you sit there and take it."

Lay's report continued, "These strong words were heard over interphone and had a magical effect on the rest of the crew, and they stuck to their guns."

For this, Colonel Lay recommended Bucky Cleven for the Congressional Medal of Honor. The citation was scaled down a bit, and he did get the Distinguished Service Cross.

This story electrified the base, a triumph for the group's most admired twosome. Already Cleven and Egan were the 100th Group heroes. New crews almost immediately began to talk like the two squadron commanders. In the Officers' Club or at Group Ops, young flyers circled around them, and watched the two fly missions with their hands. Enlisted men adored them. Pilots wanted to fly the way the two Buckys did. Back in the days before anyone knew what a role model was, Bucky Cleven and Bucky Egan were the role models of the 100th.

When the story appeared in The Saturday Evening Post it made Bucky Cleven a national hero.

From the tail: "High squadron lead gone. There it goes."

It can't be. Bucky Cleven is in that plane. He is indestructible.

No German alive could get him.

The British lorry drives off with our profuse thanks. Just as we climb into one of the base personnel carriers, Colonel Harding drives up in his sedan, with Bucky Egan behind him in another car.

A volley of words.

"We thought you had it!"

"We got reports that four chutes got out.”

"Did you see Bucky Cleven get it?"

We take the enlisted men to their quarters. Since we have not eaten since morning, we need food. We look at our watches: 1930 hours. The Flying Mess will be closed. We head for the Officers' Club.

As we enter, officers, ground and air alike, look up. Stunned.

"It's Blakely's crew!"

Pandemonium. Every man in the club, even the enlisted waiters, rush up and pound us on the back. At least half of them offer us their drinks.

"We thought you bought it!"

"They reported four chutes."

"Did you see Major Cleven blow up?"

Bucky Cleven, the impervious, the invincible, was gone. If he couldn't make it, who could? His good friend, Bucky Egan, didn't talk much that night.

The loss of Bucky Cleven over Bremen and Bucky Egan over Münster seemed to have cut the heart right out of the the 100th. Without them the 100th was a shadow.

Bucky Cleven and Bucky Egan, the two squadron leaders who went down over Bremen and Münster, were the very soul of Romanticism. They hated discipline. I told Landra that discipline was called "chicken shit." Like the two Buckys, our pilots all wanted to be dashing individualists.

Jack Kidd, John Bennett, and Tom Jeffrey showed us how to win a war. Bucky Cleven and Bucky Egan gave the 100th its personality. Bob Rosenthal helped us want to win the war.

#ask #bucky egan #buck cleven #masters of the air #mota #real mota #Harry Crosby #quotes #a wing and a prayer #book quotes #these are so good tho

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eretzyisrael · 7 months

Text

by Gregg Roman

The Red Cross has once again failed the Jewish people by choosing to appease its enemies rather than help those in need.

The International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), in its mission statement, claims to be "an impartial, neutral, and independent organization whose exclusively humanitarian mission is to protect the lives and dignity of victims of armed conflict and other situations of violence and to provide them with assistance."

The actions of the Red Cross since October 7, however, show that it does not consider the lives and dignity of all victims to be equal. Instead, the Red Cross has fallen in line with those who refuse to condemn Hamas and ignore the atrocities perpetrated against Israelis.

This isn't the first time that the Red Cross has ignored the suffering of Jewish people to avoid offending those who seek to eliminate the Jewish people. The Red Cross has received three Nobel Peace Prizes, including one in 1944 for its services in World War II, but decades later, we know the whole truth.

Documents released after the war revealed that the Red Cross was well aware of the Nazis' genocide of the Jews and chose to remain silent. The Red Cross defended itself by claiming that if it had disclosed what it knew, "it would have lost its ability to inspect prisoner-of-war camps on both sides of the front." Although the Red Cross has apologized for its inaction in confronting the Holocaust, the bias the ICRC has shown against Israel makes that apology ring hollow.

Magen David Adom, Israel's official emergency service, was founded in 1930 and ratified as a National Red Cross Society by the Knesset in 1950. However, the Red Cross refused to allow Magen David Adom entry to the international organization because the latter wanted to use the Star of David as its symbol in place of a red cross. Even though Muslim Red Cross organizations use a red crescent as their symbol, Israel is singled out for refusal. Only after 76 years of life-saving work was Magen David Adom finally accepted by the ICRC in 2006.

The Red Cross has conducted itself similarly since Hamas took Israeli hostages. The Red Cross gained much acclaim for bringing Israeli hostages home after they were released. However, the Red Cross played no part in the negotiations that led to the release, and made no effort to visit the hostages while they were imprisoned.

This is in stark contrast to past hostage crises. During the Iranian hostage crisis, the Red Cross visited the occupied US embassy in Tehran. When 72 Japanese hostages were kidnapped by guerrilla forces in Peru in 1996, the Red Cross provided food and medical assistance. When New York Times reporter David Rohde was held by the Taliban in 2008, the Red Cross delivered him a letter from his wife. When more than 240 hostages were taken from Israel, however, the Red Cross did nothing.

The Red Cross responded to a recent lawsuit filed by Israeli hostages, which claims that the Red Cross neglected its duty to visit prisoners of war, by saying: "The more public pressure we seemingly would do, the more they [Hamas] would shut the door."

The evidence shows that the Red Cross did not try very hard. UN Watch compiled a report showing that the ICRC's social media posts were heavily biased in favor of Hamas, and refused to acknowledge Hamas' atrocities and the plight of the Israeli hostages.

When families of the hostages asked the Red Cross to deliver life-saving medications to their family members in captivity, they were scolded and told to "think about the Palestinian side" by the ICRC.

Since the beginning of the current war, the Red Cross has pumped millions of dollars into Gaza, along with supplies, infrastructure, and medical teams. Hamas, of course, has a long history of shamelessly stealing money and supplies that were intended for civilians, a fact that the ICRC knows, and, unsurprisingly, Hamas has continued to do so during this current war.

The Red Cross has both the leverage and the stature to gain access to the Israeli hostages and even to push for their release. They were even able to leverage the Taliban into granting access to hostages in the past. People listen to the Red Cross. But they also hear the Red Cross' silence.

When the Red Cross speaks about the Israel-Hamas conflict without mentioning Hamas' attacks, and its president meets with Hamas' leader but does not advocate for Israeli hostages, the message is clear.

The Red Cross' historical and current actions seem to suggest that it does not value Israeli lives as much as other people's. It is time for the international community to ask the Red Cross why it looks out for all of those in need, except for Jews.

#red cross #icrc #gaza #hamas #jews #hostages #october 7

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crazycurly-77 · 3 months

Text

Hey, Ms. Secret Service! - Chapter 9

The next few days you didn't see each other, because you were both stuck in meeting after meeting.

Then one day, you were ordered to rescue another team from a dangerous mission, because the original pilot was shot down.

So you jumped into your chopper and flew over there.

As you arrived you heard several shots, but nothing to be concerned about.

You landed and the team got into the machine. At first everything seemed to be going well, as you were in the air again. Then the fuel gauge was rapidly nearing empty.

“Shit! We are shot!” you screamed to the others.

“Hold on to whatever you find and prepare yourself for a crash.”

You had to muster all of your knowledge and flying experience to save you all, but in the end you made it. After landing safely, you all exited the helicopter and cheered that you were still alive.

Then you inspected the machine, because something had to be the reason for the problem. And there they were, two shots right in the fuel tank. Wow, that was a really close one.

You called the mechanic, told him what happened and ordered a repair.

After that you headed back to the office. You were tired, but lucky to be alive and only wanted to report Jenny, write and file your report and then go home and sleep.

But Gibbs was having none of that. He had heard what happened from one of the team members you rescued and was worried.

“How are you? Everything's okay?” he hugged and then examined you to be sure that you weren't injured.

“I'm good, Jethro. Everything's fine. It was a job like so many more before.” you smiled at him reassuringly.

“Might be, but I won't have it. Are you insane?!” After being assured that you were okay, he slowly got angry.

You looked at him “what are you getting at? I don't understand you.”

“You were shot at and you nearly crashed! How do you think I feel, when I hear such things from you? You can't bring yourself in such a dangerous situation, you could have been killed!!!”

You just looked at him and said coolly “I was just doing my job and my duty. You, of all people, should understand this.”

With that you left him standing at your desk and went to Jenny's office.

You came back a few minutes later, but you two didn't spoke a word to one another the rest of the day.

But your colleagues were silently too, because they were trying to wrap around their heads on what they saw and heard.

Him openly hugging you and your calling him by his given name, caused the whole team to look up and watch at you astonished. What was that?

Concerning Kate there was more to it. She was not only bewildered, but she felt a sting of jealousy, too.

On the other hand, you learned to know each other a little better on the weekend in the mountains and you were actually building a friendship.

So no hard feelings in this direction.

In the evening, you were called to Jenny's office and after a short time, the entire team was called in.

Then Jenny stood up behind her desk and informed the team:

“Everyone listen up.

From now on, we are again dependent on ourselves and without air support.

Y/N has a special mission in Colombia together with the FBI. She is supposed to support the agents there as an undercover drug courier, as she is a specialist in bush aviation.”

She paused and you could hear a needle falling to the floor. Nobody spoke or even tried to breathe. The heavy silence was getting unbearable and all eyes were on you.

Then Jenny mentioned “I don't need to mention, that this conversation never took place.”

Tim was the first to recover “then why are you telling us about it, director?”

Jenny sighed “because Y/N probably won't come back.”

Tony tried to lighten the mood “afterwards she's moving to another team?”

Jenny looked sad and shook her head “no. She's very unlikely to survive this mission. All previous pilots were found shortly after doing their job, with a gunshot wound to the head.”

Everyone was shocked and Kate had tears running down her cheeks. Tony tried to find a solution, that said you will come back alive, so he questioned “and there is no other option?” Jenny only shook her head no.

Gibbs looked murderously at Jenny and said dangerously “everyone leave the office. Immediately. ”

When everyone had left, he roared at her “Why? Why her? Why, Jenny???”

He was getting more and more angry, while Jenny tried to stay calm.

“Because she is the only one, who has any chance of survival and can perhaps get our people out. Otherwise I wouldn’t send her” she argumented.

He nearly lost it. This can't be true. Not now. Not you. Goddammit, why??!!!

“Can’t someone else do that?” he yelled at her.

He obviously cared about her and she felt for him, but it was no use. It almost broke her heart, but she had to tell him the truth

“No, there's no one else who is able to do that. And without air support, our people down there are as good as dead. And she's the best we have.”

To hear that nearly broke him. Until now there was hope of a good and happy future and now this. Isn't it possible that he could once be happy like everyone else?

Obviously not. And so all the fighting left him.

He hung his head and whispered nearly inaudible

“For how long?”

Jenny gulped at seeing him so defeated and answered whispering, too:

“The mission has no plan. But if we don’t hear from her after 2 weeks, she is most likely dead.”

With that he looked at her. His eyes showed unbearable pain and despair. Jenny felt like the last thing on earth to be the one, who had destroyed his happiness a second time. It was hard to leave him the first time, but having to send someone obviously so dear to him to an almost certain death and having to look him into his eyes when she told him, nearly destroyed her, too. And so she looked at him, tears streaming down her face.

(To be continued...)

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Here you will find the other chapters of this story and the other stories I've written to date.

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Tags: @ilovemark1951

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#ncis #jethro gibbs x reader #gibbs #leroy jethro gibbs #gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #ncis fanfiction

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cadet-aviator · 1 month

Text

Normal life (1)

When we got back, things were pretty quiet and normal, for a while. I didn't feel all that confused anymore. Dad paid more attention to me, but then his work took over, and I was on my own again for a few days, then a week, then another week. I was fine with it. Mrs Lee took care of me, and I did my own laundry and ironing anyway. There was school, as always.

I had missed a Saturday morning drill at school and the regular Tuesday and Thursday drills, I had also missed fulfilling disciplinary service at the barracks at Saturday afternoon, Monday afternoon and Wednesday afternoon - 8 hours altogether. I had permission from school cadets, but I was given a fairly normal punishment anyway, I copied out the cadet manual once again, took me all Sunday afternoon.

And even though the Army Cadets had consented in giving me 'leave', I still had to catch up with those hours I missed. They slapped an additional 10 hours of service on my old 240 hours, because I had been out of cadet uniform, in Thailand, where I should have been properly dressed.

As you can imagine, by now, none of that seemed unfair or wrong; I was being disciplined, reprimanded, I understood it, accepted it, welcomed it. That's how my mind worked, at the time.

I realise that this ‘digested’ account of my childhood years might give the impression that I was under a lot of pressure. I wasn’t, or I wasn’t always.

For starters, I went to a really good school, with lots of bright teachers, excursions, trips, theatre, games, and my classmates were generally really nice, I had friends there too.

And if you think it was odd that after school hours I didn’t hang out in the mall, or went for a smoke behind the bike shed, or played football on the school yard until dark, it wasn’t all that strange: most kids had a well-organised life, strict rules at home, planned activities. We all did what we were told.

The school cadet program was intense and asked a lot from the cadets – to the point of being inspected at home - but it wasn’t more strenuous or demanding than, say, the school rugby eleven or the swim team (those boys had their first practice at 5.30 every morning). The school was popular (and expensive) precisely because it provided structure. I didn’t know any better and I fitted in.

And yes, I always wore my school tie in a perfect knot, never showing the top button, and my shirt was always tucked in correctly, and I may have been a bit more fanatic about that than other boys, but wearing uniform as ordered was just normal. All boys complied.

One of the best moments of the day was that half hour before drill started, when we got together in the school dressing rooms, to change from school uniform to cadet uniform.

There was always a good buzz, there, as friendly as boys that age can get, joking about a bit, but also making sure our uniforms looked fine and we were all on the same page when it came to the exercises of that afternoon.

We were pretty ambitious too, planning to do really well in these regional drill competitions, hoping to go on to the nationals.

So in that half hour we made sure we looked the part.

And the sergeant came in, for a formal check (possible demerits), and then we would fall in. And get silent.

And then we’d march out, for our endless exercises.

It was mandatory. Some kids just did it, went through the motions.

I loved it.

(All images are AI-generated)

#cadets #boys uniform

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missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway · 7 months

Text

LUNATIC II

Summary:

Welcome to Tartarus. Things are going to get electrifying 😉

Notes:

Hello Heathens! Smut begins this chapter. HAPPY READING!

Banner by @cafekitsune Divider by @unowakot

You pull up to what looks to be a condemned brick building. Boarded up windows, graffiti, trash littered everywhere and even a homeless man holding court in the alley by the side entrance.

"Hey Mello. How goes the watch?" You ask the vagrant leaning against the wall.

"Nyxy my girl! You're back. And you brought company. Has it been 2 days already? Man I must have got a bad batch off of Slim." He responds with a look of confusion on his face.

"You haven't lost track of time again Mello. I'm back a day early because earth's mightiest over here have some questions for me and in case it gets squirrely I'd rather not get blood on my hardwood back home." You state like it's an everyday fact.

"I gotcha. Gotta protect the safespace. Like I do with this alley. Well. Holler if you need anything. Though I'm sure you won't. And if I hear screaming I'll just tune it out." He leans back against the wall and gets comfy.

The team looks surprised at his statement. Clint even mouths ‘what the fuck’ to Nat and she just shrugs.

"Oh. Speaking of needing anything." You reach into the inner pocket of your leather jacket. "I brought you a new world to explore and some coin for your ventures." You hand over a gently used book and a couple of gift cards.

He glances at the cover. “‘The Last Wish’ Andrzej Sapkowski. A fantasy novel. Interesting.” He inspects the cards. “Looks like you found a way to guarantee I use your money the way you intend me to. I can buy food if I’m hungry. Clothes and shoes if I need them. But I don't understand the last one. Why did you give me a YMCA card with my name on it?”

“Easy. I made you a member. I’ll be paying the dues. That way you can get in and use the facilities to have a hot shower and use the internet if you so chose. Or just harass the teenagers. I know you love to do that.” You answer with a shrug. “Oh and that book is the introduction to a series. If you like it I can bring the next one when you finish. The least I can do is keep you entertained while you stalwartly guard my lair like a loyal hellhound does the gates to the underworld.”

“As always, it's a pleasure to serve you Miss Nyxy my Dark Pixie. My fealty shall never waiver my Queen.” He gives a formal bow of his head.

“As you were Sir Mellow. I’ll leave Wade to keep you company for now.” You nod in response before turning towards the “boarded up” door and removing a brick to expose your lock mechanism.

“Why do I have to stay out of the super secret lair?” Wade pouts. “I wanna see all your toys and offer up my services as a guinea pig. Come on.”

“You know more than anyone how much of a liability you are Wade. I’m not running the risk of your enemies even thinking you spend time here. Don’t pout about it. Be a good boy and I’ll set up some playtime with Ferne for you.” You offer up.

“Full access pass?” He barters.

“For one night only. Under her direction.” You offer.

“Deal.” You shake hands. “I best be on my way then. I’m not needed here and Mello isn't much for conversation. I have people to stalk, things to kill anyway.”

“Night Wade. Try and keep all your body parts this time.” You turn back to the hidden lock, ignoring the group of heroes watching this exchange.

“No promises.” He retorts before running off.

Removing a small dagger from the waistband of your jeans, you prick your middle finger, producing a small drop of blood that you allow the lock to soak up. You suck the remaining blood off your finger, sneakily giving the group the bird as you wait for the tell tale click of the lock disengaging.

Once the door is unlocked, you push it forward and make your way inside. “Don’t dawdle now. The door will close and lock automatically in 30 secs and she’s one heavy bitch.” At your words they speedily head in behind you, Clint barely making it through the entryway as the door begins to pull closed, a hiss sounding as the lock reengages.

“Shit! You weren’t kidding.” He gasps out.

“You’ll find that even though I am rather hilarious. I am also brutally honest. I don’t like to waste words when information is important. Plus I really didn’t feel like cleaning up severed body parts tonight. There’s better things I’d like my muscles aching from.” Your eyes quickly roam over Bucky and Nat, landing on the blonde God behind them, as you speak of aching muscles. I’m sure he would leave a most delicious ache.

You lead them down a small dark hallway until you reach another locked door. For this one you enter a five digit pin and a scanner pops out below the keypad at hip level. You unbutton your jeans and pull down the right side, exposing the gray-scale pinpoint tattoo on your hip. The Goddess Hecate’s Wheel, surrounded by lotus petals. The Ultra-Violet Scanner quickly surveys your skin, picking up on the black light ink hidden within the wheel.

A series of clicks and bangs can be heard as the door unlocks itself, opening with a small release of air. As you button your jeans back up, you turn your head slightly over your shoulder. “Welcome to Tartarus. My little slice of Hell on earth.” You give a devilish little chuckle as you watch a myriad of looks pass along their faces at the moniker of your den of sin.

Thor, nonplussed by the name, catches your eye and gives back a devilish smirk of his own. “I do hope, this is a place for you to commit all your sins.” With a wink he steps inside.

Inquisitive eyes and a range of expressions fill the faces of Earth's Mightiest as they take in your playground of debauchery. Haunting music plays through the speakers as you spin and give an impromptu tour of your open space.

Dark red and black walls, accented with dark gray partitions divide the open space into modified sections. A black and white kitchen sits to the left, completely stocked, with an island and a full bar before the partitions begin.

Section one is simply a closet. Racks and shelves are neatly stacked and overflowing in black clothing. All tactical in some way but simple looking to the naked civilian eye. Several types of belts and a copious amount of steel toe boots take up one corner. A golden settee sits proudly in the middle of the room, providing comfort when one is trying to figure out which combo of gear to equip.

Next up is your weapons lab. Weaponry of every kind line the walls and built-in drawers. The workbench is littered with miscellaneous ammo and disassembled parts. Thor admires your various long swords. Your mace of the black crown catching his attention. “I have never seen such a weapon on Midgard. It looks as though it was crafted on Nidavellir. How did you come to procure such a weapon?”

“I made it myself.” You beam. “The only one of its kind. It’s based on several different lores combined to create such a badass weapon that inflicts maximum damage.”

“A warrior maiden who knows her way around vast weaponry. A deadly combination.” His eyes burn with heat as he scans your form, igniting your core with his smoldering gaze. You can feel your panties begin to dampen further watching his nostrils slightly flare as the scent of your fresh arousal hits him.

You choose to lean into it, giving his massive frame a once over yourself. Sending him a wink before giving your lips a quick lick and turning with a swivel to your hips to head into the next space.

This space has quite a few of the team giving you the side eye. Some may call it a torture chamber but you just call it your precious play room. Whips, chains, handcuffs, ropes of every size and color; along with various torture devices line the floor and walls. Not to mention the large drain in the floor and special hose that connects to the pipes that the bathroom uses to pressure wash away any stubborn stains or fluids.

“This clearly is one of my happy places.” You smile dreamily. “So much pain and pleasure happens here.”

“I can see why Wade has such a hard on for you now.” Tony ponders out loud.

“Oh. Wade has never been in here.” You turn towards him. “He’s only ever seen my work in the wild.” You step up to the billionaire. “Most souls that make it through those doors don’t leave this place.” You run a finger down his chest to his arc reactor and tap it.

He swallows. “Most huh. So you do play here.”

“But of course Mr. Stark.” You take a step back. “All work and no play makes for a dull existence.” You turn on your heel and head for the door connecting this chamber to the next. “Come along now. The tour is almost over and then we can talk.”

The next three sections are rather uneventful. You show them your glorious black and gray bathroom, complete with clawfoot tub and a rather extensive walk in shower made to handle any type of uncleanliness one could think of. Followed by your sleeping quarters. A large Victorian gothic four post bed sits on a platform in the center of the room surrounded by greenery and all your creature comforts.

Then there’s the study. Wall to wall are nothing but bookshelves filled to the brim and display cases full of some of your favorite artifacts, mainly skeletal remains of varying animal species and crystals galore.

On your way back towards the kitchen Clint can’t help but notice the hanging fabrics dangling above a small stage containing a stripper pole. “You do aerials in your show?” He asks.

“Not as much as I would like to, but yes I do.” You saunter over to the silky fabric and wrap your wrist up tight. “Honestly, in the air, dangling and flipping around, is the one place I feel most calm.” You heft your body up into the silk, twisting and maneuvering until you’ve put yourself in an inverted pigeon pose.

“Alright. You have questions and I may just have some answers for you.” You state.

Clint looks on slack jawed at your overly peaceful state while suspended up in the air, as Steve tries to take control of the situation and finally get some answers. “Are you sure you want to have this discussion while you're twisted up there?”

“Captain, I assure you.” You manipulate your body once more and move into a wide seat inversion. “I am perfectly content, right where I am.”

Thor’s mind starts to race as he watches you confidently control the silk wrapped around your body. Flashes of him manipulating you into various positions for his own carnal pleasure begin to play. I must partake of this warrior maiden. To drink of her essence and worship her body would be an honor fit for a King.

“Leave her be Capsicle. Even you can admire the view on this one.” Tony nudges him in the arm.

“I assume you’re looking for some villain origin story type bullshit, right?” You raise your brow.

They just stare on, waiting for you to continue.

“Sad to say, mine is not all too entertaining. Grew up in foster care til I was old enough to successfully run away at age 13. Was homeless for a bit until Madam Elsa found me. Don’t worry I wasn’t turning tricks or anything at that age.”

You smile like the nocturnal creature you are. “She gave me a room at her upscale brothel. Not one of the play rooms, but on the level where the escorts lived. She required me to complete my education in exchange for room and board. I opted to do it online and graduated early at 15. Yay for homeschool and smart sex workers as tutors. I learned a lot of things back then. Good and bad. It was the bad that stuck with me of course.”

You begin to sway, subconsciously soothing yourself. “I watched the people I loved and cared for, get beat for doing what they had to do to put food in their bellies. The richer the client, the more evil they were. One extremely wealthy client in particular, who was the son of a politician, tried to bargain a night with me when I turned 18. Madam of course had none of it. Didn't stop the little twat from trying though. Had me followed and basically stalked me. Little did he know I’d been learning hand to hand combat along with weapons training since the day I entered that brothel. Cliff, Madam's husband and head of security, took me under his wing and made me a secret weapon.”

The team exchanges a look with each other.

“It wasn't until I was 21 that I killed for the first time. Maimed plenty. But death by my hand just hadn’t happened yet. Not until that same prick that tried to buy me when I became legal did the unthinkable. He had his goons raid the brothel. Apparently his father had gotten into business with Hydra and he thought he was invincible. My found family were raped and beaten all in an attempt to get to me. He made an example of Madam and Cliff.”

Your eyes glaze over as you relive that night. “He would have gotten off easy with a shot between the eyes, if he didn’t bind and torture Madam until I called. He was stupid enough to pick up her phone. I heard her screams to stay away even as he plunged his knife into her gut. I rushed over and found the carnage. He’d told the goons to leave as he remained. That was his biggest mistake. I played the distraught pseudo daughter to a tee. Mainly because I was. I gave him a false sense of victory before I slid a dagger from my belt and slit his throat. I watched the blood and life drain from him without remorse.”

“Madam died that night in the hospital and many of my family were wounded beyond repair, both physically and mentally. I vowed that day to protect the forgotten ones of society. The other. Because too many think we deserve what happens to us because we use our bodies for work.”

A small smile returns to your face. “Madam left me the brothel in her will and the remaining girls and I turned it into Sins. All above board. All consensual and most of all safe. I just so happen to have a taste for blood and mayhem. Get quite thirsty for it actually. But I do have a code. So you don't have to worry. I’m not taking your job. Anyone gets out of hand, they deal with me. That includes my workers who choose to take John's outside of the facility.”

“Nice story. Tragic. Yet it makes sense.” Natasha imparts.

Steve asks the question they’ve all been waiting for. “Why Rumlow?”

You lower yourself back down to the ground and walk up to the Captain. “Simple. He assaulted my best friend and worker. Followed her home and took what he wanted. He wasn't hard to track honestly. I was able to follow him the night after. Snuck into his apartment and the little shit had the audacity to brag about his prowess and what he did to Trixie. So I got a little knife happy. Had to take two showers just to get all of him off me that night.”

“Sounds like he got what he rightfully deserved.” Thor states.

“Good to know that the Demi God understands doling out justice where justice is due.” You glance over your shoulder at the blonde Adonis. “Although I’m not looking for anyone's approval; it does make all my naughty parts tingle to know my work is appreciated.” You wink at him and turn back towards the baffled Captain. “What? I have a praise kink. Among other things. So sue me.”

You head to the kitchen where a tablet is located on the counter. With a couple taps you place the lair in Sin Mode. The lights fade into a sultry red as Freak begins to play. You saunter over to your pole, turning towards the group of superheroes taking up space in your funhouse.

“Look. I have a lot of pent up energy I need to get rid from work and talking about murder and mayhem is just adding to my need for release.” You grab the pole and swing around once before climbing up. “Seeing as I have answered your questions, you can kindly show yourselves out or help me expend said energy. I’m not picky. An orgasm is in my future either way.” You start a sequence of spins and tricks as you give them time to make up their minds.

“I care not of what you all choose to do. But I will be staying to aid in the warrior maidens energy release. A creature that uninhibited, deserves to be worshiped properly.” Thor declares.

“Why am I not surprised your staying?” Tony looks at the God. “You’ve had a hardon for her since she took out that violet wand during her show. Wanna see if she receives as good as she gives huh there Pointbreak.”

“You know I can hear you right Tin Man.” You stop your spin and sit comfortably perched on the pole. “For inquiring minds who want to know, I most certainly love to receive. I’m a glutton for it really. Pain and pleasure. Such a magnificent combination. You thought tonight’s show was entertaining. You should see what I get up to with a dagger and some rope.” You wink at the Winter Soldier and the Black Widow, both with looks of lust clouding their eyes at your words.

“Alright, before this devolves any further, we’ll be taking our leave.” Steve looks over to an enthralled Thor, eyes only for you in this moment. “Well, almost all of us anyway. Thank you for answering our questions and allowing us in your space. I’m sure it won't be the last you see of us from now on.”

“I can’t wait to see what you have in store for me Captain.” You allow your eyes to roam all over his casually dressed frame.

They say their goodbyes and begin to head out. Thor happily watches you do your magic on the pole. Clint slaps him on his back and whispers. “Don’t hold anything back. She more than looks like she can handle the hammer and all its glory. I’ll be waiting for all the dirty details when you get back.”

“It will be my pleasure. Goodnight Barton.” Thor replies.

“So.” You slide down the pole, landing softly on your feet. “I’m just going to be upfront with you, God of Thunder and fertility. You can help me relieve all this energy if you make sure to use ALL of your powers. I want to be fucked stupid and be a babbling mess on the floor by the time your through with me. I can take whatever you dole out. Trust me.”

“Challenge accepted, fair maiden. Let’s begin by getting rid of these garments.” With a flash of lighting your clothes disintegrate off your body into a pile of ash on the floor.

“You better be replacing those.”

“I’ll have Tony buy you something better.” He steps up to you, wraps a hand around your throat and pulls you up into a heated kiss.

You wrap your thighs around his waist, grinding down against his shirt, soaking it in your essence. “I’m not opposed to semi clothed sex, but I really wanna get my greedy little fingers all over this godly skin.”

“That can easily be arranged milady.” He walks you over to the kitchen and places you on the island as he slowly removes his clothes for you.

While you watch the show you grab the control tablet off the counter beside you. “I have just the thing to make this night even more memorable.” Thunderstruck begins to play. “Care to make this even more interesting?”

“What do you have in mind?” Naked as the day is long, Thor swaggers up to you and places himself between your thighs.

You run your hand down his chiseled chest. “Let’s make a little video of our time together. A souvenir of our lustful venture for you to gaze upon at your discretion when you so choose. What say you, God of Thunder?”

“Aye milady. That sounds most agreeable to me. May I share our escapades with the team as well?” He inquires.

“You may. I have nothing to hide and honestly you may help me gain future escapades because of it. Share away my King.” You shrug.

“Your King.” He growls out. “Mmm I quite enjoy the sound of that spilling from your lips.” He runs his fingers up the insides of your thighs, spreading them further as he lowers himself to his knees, placing his head right before your glistening folds. “Now I shall feast like one.”

He licks a long stroke up your folds and suctions your pulsing button into his warm mouth. The fingers that were teasing your thighs continue their journey with the added buzz of random sparks of electricity dancing along your skin.

“Mmmm. You taste of the sweetest ambrosia.” He looks up at you, blonde beard shining with your slick as he licks his lips. “I fear I may never have my fill or find another taste quite like it.” He smirks before diving back in.

“Mmm Fuck! God of Thunder and Cunnilingus. Sweet Satan that tongue has some mighty tricks.” You feel your orgasm coming on quick as he plunges two thick fingers into your sopping slit and sends a jolt of his power right to your g spot.

That’s the magical ticket to unlocking a colossal orgasm, worthy of the god who bestowed it, out of you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you let yourself ride the erratic waves of your climax.

“I’ve had lesser partners pass out after an orgasm of that magnitude. You truly can take what I dole out it seems.” You watch as he licks you off his fingers. “Alas, I have a babbling mess to make out of you yet.”

He lifts you off of the counter and places you on your feet, turning you towards the wet spot you left dripping off the edge. “Bend over.” He commands.

Your body is telling you to do just that, but your bratty little brain demands otherwise. You glimpse over your shoulder making eye contact with the Demi God behind you and give your most mischievous smile. “Make me.”

You feel his growl resonate around the room like a dark thunderous cloud, as he gives your ass a hard smack. “With pleasure.” He grips the back of your neck, pulling you closer for a bruising kiss, before pushing your torso down on the counter, your nipples harden as they graze the damp surface.

His large hand gathers both of yours and places them against the base of your spine. With the other he takes his cock in hand and teases your entrance, dipping just the tip of his bulbous head in, watching your hips gyrate, trying to pull him inside. “So needy already.” He taps your clit twice. “Didn’t take much for that brattiness to go quiet.”

“You gonna gloat all night or are you gonna make me leave a mess all over your cock?” You spit out.

“There she is. The victory is so much sweeter when you fight against your submissive nature.” He slams his hips forward. Splitting you open on his meaty girth so suddenly, nothing leaves your mouth but a silent scream as your body adjusts. “Fuuuuck. Your cunt is so tight around my cock. If I’m not careful I may not last as long as I wish.”

“I don’t care. Just. Please. Fucking. Move.” You whimper out.

He begins fucking you hard and deep, gripping your hips tight, most likely leaving bruises behind. His balls swing into your clit with every thrust accompanied by little jolts of electricity, sending sparks throughout your core. You're screaming out from the pleasure, losing yourself in the perfect chaos your bodies are creating.

There’s this primal energy to Thor and you are all for it. “Look at you. Taking my cock so well.” He says between grunts. “It’s like your cunt was made just for me.” His thrusts are getting deeper and more shallow, like he’s trying to burrow himself deep inside you, leaving his mark behind so you’ll never forget him.

You involuntarily start to swivel and throw your hips back. Meeting him in the middle as he puts more power into each thrust, growling as he watches your ass jiggle each time your flesh connects.

He runs his right hand up your spine, making you arch like a cat in heat, until he reaches the base of your skull. His fingers tease along your skin before wrapping tightly around your throat. "Mmm yes. Fuck. Own me. Shut me up by choking me like the loud little slut I am."

He tightens his grip around your throat, almost cutting off your air supply completely. Making you even wetter. The edges of your vision are turning hazy. You're slick now covering your thighs. "I can feel how close you are. Making a mess on my cock already. Let's up the ante shall we."

The next thing you know you're being pulled up against his sweat dampened chest as he pounds into you with all his might. For a couple minutes all that can be heard is the sounds of your grunts and groans woven in with thunder and the music playing throughout the space.

The grip on your neck loosens for a brief moment, allowing you a much needed breath, as he leans his head down, grazing his lips against the shell of your ear, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "Are you sure you're ready for this? Ready for me to fill you so full that you'll be dripping with my seed?"

He nips the spot behind your ear as you let out a little whine. He gives a harsh thrust and hits that sweet spongy spot like it’s his intended target, with an added jolt of electricity to your spine. Your eyes roll back into your head and any response that you had waiting on your tongue drifts away. You’re just a dickmatized mess.

“I asked you a question, Nyx?” He rotates his hips and buries himself deeper as you nod your head yes. Trying to get your brain to tell your voicebox to make words. “Uh, uh fair maiden. I need to hear your words on this one. Once you do. I promise, I’ll give you everything you want.”

Somehow, the hazy fog of carnal lust clears just long enough for your mouth to produce more than just whimpering moans. “Yes.” You whisper out just loud enough to get his attention. “I want it. I want to be filled to the brim with you so badly.”

It’s like your words, your acceptance of him in every way, puts a spell on him and the last remaining barrier holding back the full force of him is unleashed. “Then everything is what you shall have.” He growls out, taking on a new ferociously punishing pace. Arks of blue light dance along your skin as he lets his powers play.

A cacophony of mewls, moans, groans and growls, mixed with flashes of white and blue fills your den of sin. You have no idea how much time has passed when you start to feel that familiar coil in your core begin to tighten again, the stirrings of an orgasm on the horizon. Your walls establish a rhythmic squeeze, clamping down on the girth steadily carving out a path to your womb.

“Your greedy little pussy is gripping me so tightly. Barely letting me pull out at all. Give in to me. Cum all over my cock and I’ll fill you right up.” He grunts out.

“Fuuuuuck” You whine, legs shaking from the impending climax building beneath your skin. He wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you close as his own rhythm becomes erratic, losing himself to the very real instinct to breed you, making you all his, although he knows that could never be with a soul like yours.

It’s all too much and yet not nearly enough as your own instincts take over. Your skin is thrumming with the need for release, body strung tight as you ride the edge of his lightening. With a well placed twist of the hips and a direct shot to your g-spot you detonate.

Your vision blurs into shades of black and gray, a constellation of electric blue stars popping through like diamonds dissecting the night sky. Every muscle within your body tightens as you ride your high.

As you continue to shake from the intensity of your orgasm, the vice-like grip your pussy has on Thor’s length sets off his own powerful orgasm. With an almost inhuman roar he buries himself deep inside your quivering channel, tip penetrating your cervix, thick white ropes of his seed coating the walls of your waiting womb as his eyes glow white and lightning crashes around him.

The pleasurable pain brought on by his power, ratchets up your orgasm once more. If it weren’t for his arm wrapped tight around your ribs you surely would be a puddle on the floor by now. You can feel your limbs getting weaker with each wave that hits you. You feel like you could float away at any moment. Mind lost in a haze of euphoric bliss.

As he removes his arm from around your torso and dislodges himself from deep inside you, your jelly like legs have you sinking to the floor. Your eyes are glazed over as you hum and mumble to yourself as your hands ghost along your still tingling skin.

Having grabbed a warm washcloth from the bathroom, Thor returns to your prone frame. Before he cleanses his spend from between your legs he grabs his phone to take a few photos of the state he left you in.

You notice the device in his hand. “Put it on video my King.” He does as he’s told and watches you spread your legs wide and run your fingers through the mess you made together. He pans the camera up as he follows your cum soaked fingers making their way onto your waiting tongue. “Mmm. A sweet ambrosia indeed.” You wink at the camera right before Thor stops filming.

“You truly are a minx.” He growls out. “Let me clean you up before my instincts get the best of me again.”

“Normally I would tease you til you ravage me again but seeing as how I am but a fucked out mess currently, I shall behave.” You smile sweetly at him. “This time.”

“Glad to know I fulfilled my challenge.” With pride and mischief in his eyes you watch a dopey smile spread across the Gods face.

“And then some. I haven't felt this strung out in a long time. I might have to add you to my roster.” You chuckle out. “At minimum I need to see what it feels like to ride all that power instead of being ridden by it.”

“It would be my honor to make a mess of you again, milady.” He replies.

“Deal.” You smile. “Now hand me my tablet so I can grab all the best angles from my cameras for you viewing pleasure.”

He hands you the tablet as you quickly scan the debaucherous scene that just happened. With a quick cut and edit of all the best angles you work some techy magic and send it off to not only Thor but the team as well.

“Done. Oh and you don't have to worry about sharing it. I went ahead and sent it to everyone and created a group chat.” You nonchalantly say. “Never hurts to have so many attractive and powerful people on retainer.”

Before Thor can respond to your tricky ways your phones begin pinging with incoming texts.

Bruce: Holy shit!

Nat: Someone clearly has a high pain tolerance. Good to know 😉

Clint: I knew I should have stayed!

Steve: I have to admit that was hot as hell doll.

Bucky: Agreed Stevie! You look good lost in that pleasurable pain doll. Gives me some ideas.

Thor: Feels great too!

Tony: We are all in agreement that that was fucking hot. Now the real question is… Who gets next?

Nyx: That’s up to you all. First come, first serve. Let the debauchery begin 😈

#lunatic #avengers x reader #avengers smut #poc reader #thor x reader #thor smut

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missvelvetsstuff · 2 years

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Skin Deep

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky and the reader have been dating for a couple of months when he leaves for a long mission. While he's away the reader worries about him and the stress causes her psoriasis to flare up. By the time he comes home it's pretty bad and she's embarrassed to let him, or anyone, see her.

Notes: reader is female and above average height but I try to keep everything else vague.

She has Chronic Placque Psoriasis, which I was diagnosed with last year. My husband has been awesome but I hate this. Crusty, scaly, itchy "plaques" that are not responding well to treatment, thinning hair patches.

So I wrote my own comfort story. Lemme know what you think.

Warnings: swearing, angst with a happy ending

Y/N woke up early to go to the gym and keep up on the training Bucky insisted she start. Even though he had been gone on a mission for 2 months she had promised to stick with it. As she dressed in her tank top she noticed the red scaly patches on her neck and back. Upon further inspection it started on the crown of her head and was spreading. She had seen it starting a couple of days ago but ignored it, hoping it would calm itself but no such luck.

She shook her head and swore "Damnit, not this mess again. FRIDAY? Can you see if Helen Cho has any time to see me today?"

"Of course, Miss Y/N." After a moment she spoke again "Dr Cho can see you at 12:30. Is that alright for you?"

"Yea, FRIDAY. Thank you."

"Of course, Miss Y/N."

Y\N sighed in frustration at her condition, traded the tank top for long sleeves and her shorts for yoga pants, then put on a headband to cover her hairline. Satisfied that most of the plaques were out of sight she went to meet Nat.

When she opened the door to the gym she saw Natasha leaned up against a wall while Clint worked on the weights. When she saw Y/N enter she waved and started walking over to greet her.

Nat furrowed her brow before she spoke "What's with the long sleeves? I didn't bruise you up too much yesterday, did I?

Y/N chuckled "No, it wasn't you. The crunge is back."

Nat looked concerned "Oh no! Maybe the stress of missing your boy toy? Have you even heard from him?"

Y/N shook her head "No. They're on a total comms blackout. Nothing in or out but I'm sure we would have heard if something horrible happened." She smiled sadly "I just miss him. My bed is cold and I'm not sleeping well."

Nat put an arm around her shoulder "I know but he'll be back. How about a 3 martini lunch to distract you?"

Clint looked up "I'm down for a liquid lunch"

Y/N laughed "I have an appointment with Helen at 12:30 so it'll have to be a late lunch but sure as long as you order in. No one wants to see this mess." She pointed at herself.

Nat shook her head "I don't want to hear that talk. It's not like you have any control over it."

Y/N sighed "that doesn't matter. People see my skin and treat me like a leper. I'm not up for being a public service announcement for psoriasis."

"Alright kid. We'll meet in Tony's lounge at 2:00. That should give you plenty of time with Helen." Clint hugged her.

Nat pipes in "I'll tell Betty(Y/N's boss) I need you for the afternoon.'

After the gym, Y/N went to the common room kitchen to find something for breakfast. She settled on a couple of hard boiled eggs, a banana and some orange juice.

Then a long shower, not too hot so her skin isn't irritated, moisturizing her scalp and dressing in a pair of slacks and long sleeved blouse. It took a few minutes to style her hair to cover the rash to her satisfaction.

She went to work in the PR department on the other side of the compound. She was the only ops employee who had quarters near the Avengers, being friends with Tony and Nat was definitely helpful. Dating Bucky was her bonus for living next to the team.

Her boss, Betty, greeted her with a grim smile "Agent Romanoff has requested your help this afternoon so she will meet you in the Avengers common room after your lunch at 2." She looked Y/N up and down "It is convenient how the Avengers always need your help and never any other employees."

Betty was a control freak and didn't like how Y/N was assigned to her but always pulled away by the team. She wouldn't dare complain but it did rub her the wrong way.

Y/N smiled "We've built up a rapport since I'm over there all the time with Sargent Barnes."

Betty sneered "I cant imagine what anyone would see in-"

Y/N snapped "Don't tax yourself trying, some people can only see in one dimension so I'm sure it's beyond your abilities"

Betty scoffed "You might be their pet right now but they'll get bored, he'll get bored if he doesn't kill you first, and you'll be stuck with me"

"Yeah, sure Betty. Why don't you let me get some work done while I'm here." Y/N smiled and went to her office.

She spent 3 hours working on her paperwork and projects before her phone went off to remind her of her appointment. She cleaned up her desk and waved goodbye to Betty who shot her a dirty look.

Y/N went to the medical wing and saw Helen. This wasn't a new problem so Helen gave her a refill on her meds and a new moisturizing steroid cream with vitamin d. Y/N was grateful for Starks medical coverage since most insurance wouldn't cover such a new medicine.

After scheduling an appointment for 2 weeks to see how she was responding to the new meds Y/N went to her apartment to change into something more comfortable. She picked a long sleeve maxi dress and sandals.

When she arrived at Tony's lounge she saw Nat had already started drinking and Clint came in right after her with the food. They sat in the comfy leather chairs eating tacos and drinking margaritas until dinnertime when they decided to watch a movie. They were all half drunk and argued over what to watch but Y/N and Nat ganged up on Clint and they ended up watching Heathers.

Clint passed out before the movie ended so drunk Nat and Y/N made his face up and put ribbons all over his hair then left him there, giggling as they tip-toed away.

Y/N was a little unsteady so decided to go to her room and sleep it off. She tried to explain that to Nat but it came out sounding like gibberish in between her laughter. Nat decided to follow her to make sure she made it ok and they both ended up passed out in Y/N's room.

Over the next 2 weeks she took good care of her skin but the rash wouldn't back down. The meds kept it from growing but didn't help much beyond that.

It was Friday nite and Y/N was on the roof hitting a joint and tequila shots with Nat. "Where is Clint anyhow?"

Nat scoffed "Some shit about seeing his family. Lame."

After they finished the joint they each had a brownie and slowly made their way back to the residential floor.

Y/N passed out fully clothed but she did remember to take her shoes off.

"Miss Y/N?" She heard her name like it was coming from far away and grunted in reply. FRIDAY tried again "Miss Y/N?" She grumbled then shouted "What" instantly regretting it as her head pounded. "Sargeant Barnes tried to call but you were asleep. He left a message to let you know he will be home this evening"

Y/N sat up quickly to find Nat passed out next to her. "Oh my head!" She grumbled and shoved Nat. "Natasha! What did you do to me? My head is pounding"

Nat rolled off the bed onto the floor "I didn't do anything, you're the one who drank too much. You should know you can't keep up with me."

Nat stood up a little unstable but her eyes were clear and bright.

Y/N was thinking "FRIDAY? What did you just say?"

"Sargeant Barnes sent a message to let you know he will be home this evening."

Y/N looked at Nat "Tonite? But look at me? I can't let Bucky see me like this. He'll never want to touch me again." Her eyes teared up.

Nat put an arm around her "Come on, Barnes is crazy about you, he won't let this stupid rash stop him."

Y/N shook her head, then groaned "But, Nat, I haven't had a flare up since before we started dating. I haven't told him about it yet." She got up slowly and went to look in her bathroom mirror and squealed "No, no, no! It's worse than yesterday. All over my head and down my back." She sat down and looked closer "And look Nat, a bald spot. No two. I can't even cover them up, make up just makes it worse."

Y/N spent the whole day stressing even more than she had been, scared that Bucky would be disgusted by her condition. The itch was making her crazy and nothing was helping, all her usual tricks only seemed to exacerbate the problem.

Her phone rang and she saw it was Bucky "Hey Buck" she answered "You almost here? FRIDAY said tonite but it's not even lunch time."

Bucky chuckled and she felt her insides flutter. "Not yet, doll but I couldn't wait to hear your voice. Feels like forever. I can't wait to see you, hold you. We should land around 4"

She smiled, excited to see him too "Any injuries I should know about?"

"Not me this time, Sam is a little beat up but nothing serious"

"I'll make something for dinner. Any requests?"

Bucky growled lowly "What I want has nothing to do with food doll. I can't wait to show you how bad I've missed you."

Her stomach dropped "Oh well I missed you too. You should probably get a good meal and some rest before, you know, anything else."

Bucky sounded concerned "Is everything alright Doll? You sound stressed. Are you ok?"

She forced a small laugh "Of course, baby. I'm just excited to see you."

"Well, make sure you take a nap after lunch. You're gonna need your strength. Good thing tomorrow is Sunday so we can sleep late.

I'll see you soon, beautiful"

"Bye Bucky"

Y/N spent the day doing chores and trying not to worry too much about Bucky coming home. Even took a nap after lunch, she needed it more than he could know. When she woke up her head was clearer so she showered and then went to make dinner for the team. She picked spaghetti since it was easy to make for a large group. She left the sauce to simmer and had noodles and garlic bread ready to go when they landed.

She went to the hangar to meet the team after changing into a long sleeved shirt and long skirt with a headband covering the rash that had gone past her hairline.

She stood humming and bouncing with excitement and nerves. A little yelp slipped out when she first saw him. He looked tired and dirty but broke out in a huge grin as soon as he saw her.

Y/N ran and threw herself into his arms, he squeezed her tight and buried his head in her hair, breathing her in. "Damn I missed you doll. Felt like forever."

She pulled back so she could kiss him "Same sarge, this dump ain't the same without you"

Bucky smiled while Tony was offended "Dump? You got a lot of nerve there Y/L/N" and strode away grumbling.

Bucky set her down "Come on doll, let me go get a shower"

She kissed him again "Ok, I'll get dinner finished and meet you in the kitchen."

The entire team minus Clint sat at the table as Y/N brought all the food out. She looked at everyone "I hope I made enough pasta"

Bucky smiled "It smells delicious, doll."

She smiled back at him, his smile still gave her butterflies, she couldn't understand how someone like him was into her. She felt like he's way out of her league. Especially with her skin acting up.

After dinner she offered everyone brownies, special or plain. Bucky grabbed her, threw her over his shoulder and grabbed a couple of brownies "Night all, I need some alone time with my girl."

When they got to his room he tossed her onto the bed and climbed on top of her "Do you have any idea how badly I missed you Y/N? Sam was getting tired of me talking in my sleep."

He gently grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her in to kiss him. She tensed when his hand rubbed her neck and he pulled back, noting that the normally soft skin felt dry and crusty "Is everything ok baby? Am I hurting you?" He rubbed her neck gently.

Y/N felt her skin heat up "No Buck, you didn't hurt me. It's just this skin thing that I get. I know it's nasty, I understand if you dont want to touch me." She looked away.

Bucky sighed and gently turned her face to him. She could see the sadness and sincerity in his stormy blue eyes. "Y/N, I always want to touch you but not if it hurts. I never want to hurt you." He kissed her softly "Why didn't you tell me?"

She shrugged "It's gross and embarrassing. People look at me like I have the plague. I haven't had a flare in over a year but stress can bring it on."

Bucky kissed her again and pulled her close "What are you stressed about? Has Betty been on your case again? I can talk to Tony about her if you want."

She giggled "No, that's not it even though she really is awful. Besides, Tony likes me better than you so I could talk to him myself if it was that bad."

"Then what doll?"

Y/N squeezed him and let herself drown in his presence. "I just missed you and was worried. Everything feels so empty without you here."

Bucky kissed her forehead "I know what you mean doll, Sam just isn't as good company as you are."

He held her for a few minutes before a thought crossed his mind. He kissed her on the lips then pulled back to look her in the eyes. "You know what I've heard is a great stress reliever?"

She shook her head "No, what?"

Buckys eyes darkened and he smirked "Orgasms"

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #skin deep #psoriasis

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ukrfeminism · 8 months

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Britain’s largest police force is failing to protect children from exploitation after inspectors found half of investigations were inadequate - with officers frequently using victim-blaming language.

Vulnerable children – who were often victims of abuse, neglect or sexual exploitation – were described as “making poor choices” in concerning language used by Metropolitan Police officers, according to damning report from the police watchdog, which also concluded that 12 in every 100 children were in some way blamed for their abuse.

The Met, which is already in special measures, has issued an apology to children and families as it responded to 11 recommendations following an inspection by His Majesty’s Inspectorate of Constabulary and Fire & Rescue Services (HMICFRS) commissioned by the Mayor of London.

Inspectors were so concerned about their findings that they issued an alert before their review had ended last year.

Full details of the report, published on Friday, revealed half of 244 investigations into child exploitation and missing children reviewed by inspectors were found to be inadequate.

Inspectors reported delays in action being taken, lines of enquiry not being followed and poor supervision of investigations.

Shockingly, 39 cases were returned to the force for review because inspectors were concerned children remained at risk.

Inspectors noted they had seen some good work, but said: “The balance of negative evidence from this inspection far outweighed the positive.

“Put simply, the force isn’t doing enough when children are suffering from, or at risk of, exploitation.”

Frequent examples of victim-blaming language also raised “questions about how well officers and staff understand the risks of exploitation” as well as concerns about “the prevailing attitudes and culture” in some areas of the force, the report added.

Inspectors also reviewed 60 cases involving children who had been reported missing, many of which were in care and had been subjected to neglect or sexual exploitation.

In 33 of those cases, inspectors found language that implied the missing children were in some way responsible or to blame.

One 14-year-old girl, who was part of an investigation into child exploitation, was described as “seeking out sex with older men”, while a 12-year-old was described as “sexually active with older men”.

One senior leader admitted to inspectors that the force has a “cultural issue” around how they see children, while another said: “The culture is that missing children are seen as a problem.”

For example, one sergeant said the “missing person team deal with proper missing people”, the report said. In relation to children looked after by the local authority, they said it is “more to do with truancy and behaviour than missing ... more a children’s social care problem”.

HMICFRS has urged the Met to provide effective training to all staff who interact with children and encourage staff to challenge victim-blaming language, as part of 11 recommendations for reform.

The force has also been urged to make sure it works more effectively to prevent children from going missing, find them more quickly and follow all reasonable lines of enquiry to identify suspects.

The report comes after the Met was put in special measures by the watchdog in 2022, following a series of scandals. The following year a damning review by Baroness Casey concluded the force was institutionally racist, misogynistic and homophobic.

His Majesty’s Inspector of Constabulary Lee Freeman said: “Children who are at risk of exploitation, or who go missing from home, are some of the most vulnerable in society. The police and other public services have a shared responsibility to look for the warning signs, be alert to the risks and act quickly to protect children.

“It is particularly concerning that the Metropolitan Police Service isn’t doing enough when children are suffering from, or at risk of, exploitation. The force should make sure that it fully understands the risks to children, and that officers and staff are equipped to identify and tackle those risks effectively, so no child is left unprotected.

“The Met has already committed to increasing the number of officers in some teams dealing with child exploitation. For the benefit of London’s children, the force should implement our recommendations in full and without delay.”

Since HMICFRS first issued an alert last October, the Met has trained more than 1200 child protection officers and 400 officers responsible for missing children investigations, the force said.

Commander Kevin Southworth, lead for Public Protection at the Met, added: “I’m deeply sorry to the children and families we have let down and want to reassure our communities that we are already taking significant steps to address these recommendations.

“We are putting more police resource into this area and retraining officers to have a better understanding of the complexities of child exploitation so we can continue our work to win back the trust of Londoners.”

#articles #mvawg

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thiziri · 1 year

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Royal Navy's newest sailors at HMS Raleigh greeted by Princess Anne during Passing Out parade

The Princess Royal takes salute at HMS Raleigh passing out parade.

Princess Anne made a special trip to HMS Raleigh yesterday, April 21, as the guest of honour at its Passing Out Parade to celebrate the newest sailors joining the fleet. The basic training facility of the Royal Navy at Torpoint was last visited by Her Royal Highness, The Princess Royal, in 2017.

HMS Raleigh is the home of both initial naval training for Royal Navy ratings and professional training. She arrived via royal helicopter and was greeted by the commanding officer of HMS Raleigh, captain Jane Roe ADC Royal Navy.

During the visit, Princess Anne met with the service, civilian and contractor staff who help deliver and support world-class training, as well as talking to a selection of recruits at various stages of their Royal Navy journey. The Cunningham 22/32 class are the latest recruits to complete their 10-week phase one training at the Torpoint base.

Among those to have met her was recruit Brodrick from Bristol, who is currently in week four of her training. She said: “I see The Princess Royal as a role model and an example on how I, as a female in the Royal Navy, can reach the highest ranks."

Chief petty officer Dav Hayer added: “I have met Her Majesty through her position as the chancellor of the University Highland and Islands where I am currently completing my MSc, and today [April 21] it is special to meet her in her role in the Royal Navy.”

Reflecting on her position of admiral of the Sea Cadets Corps, petty officer Stephen Owen from Liskeard, who works in the youth training team said: “It is appropriate The Princess Royal is here today [April 21]. 400 sea cadets are about to arrive to undertake the Annual National Drill and Piping competition at HMS RALEIGH, and she is an important head of our organisation.”

The Princess Royal inspects the passing out class at HMS Raleigh.

The class passing out was Cunningham 22/32, comprising of 25 sailors who are joining the fleet as future weapon and marine engineers, warfare specialists, Royal Navy Police, and a qualified dental nurse. The Princess Royal took the salute at the parade, which included Ship’s Company Divisions, and presented the training prizes and service awards.

Acting as guard officer, chief petty officer Al Lowe said: “It was a real privilege to be on parade in front of The Princess Royal, and it’s hugely rewarding to see these men and women evolve into effective members of the Royal Navy. All the training staff wish them luck as they start the next phase of specialist training.”

The Princess Royal meets HMS Raleigh recruit CS Sebastien Kava Liliu who is the first Solomon Islander to join the Royal Navy.

During her visit, six senior ratings serving at HMS Raleigh had their near 200 years’ service recognised with awards presented by Princess Anne. The sailors, all living in the south west and serving on the training staff at the New Entry Training establishment in Torpoint, Cornwall, have had their outstanding service marked with awards of Clasps to their long service and Good Conduct medal and Valedictory Certificates.

Petty officers Matthew Hocking and Stuart Donaldson both received the first Clasp to their medal after attaining over 25 years’ service, while warrant officers first class Ian Bailey and Justin Newbury both received their second Clasp after completing over 35 years’ service.

#anne in uniform #badass princess #she looks so good #workanne #princess anne #princess royal #brf #british royal family

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 9 months

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LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

December 26, 2023

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

DEC 27, 2023

On December 26, 1991, the New York Times ran a banner headline: “Gorbachev, Last Soviet Leader, Resigns; U.S. Recognizes Republics’ Independence.” On December 25, Soviet president Mikhail Gorbachev had resigned, marking the end of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, often referred to as the Soviet Union or USSR.

Former Soviet republics had begun declaring their independence in March 1990, the Warsaw Pact linking the USSR’s Eastern European satellites into a defense treaty dissolved by July 1991, and by December 1991 the movement had gathered enough power that Belarus, Russia, and Ukraine joined together in a “union treaty” as their leaders announced they were creating a new Commonwealth of Independent States. When almost all the other Soviet republics announced on December 21 that they were joining the new alliance, Gorbachev could either try to hold the USSR together by force or step down. He chose to step down, handing power to the president of the Russian Federation, Boris Yeltsin.

The dissolution of the USSR meant the end of the Cold War, and those Americans who had come to define the world as a fight between the dark forces of communism and the good forces of capitalism believed their ideology had triumphed. Two years ago, Gorbachev said that with the collapse of the Soviet Union, "They grew arrogant and self-confident. They declared victory in the Cold War."

The collapse of the USSR gave the branch of the Republican Party that wanted to destroy the New Deal confidence that their ideology was right. Believing that their ideology of radical individualism had destroyed the USSR, these so-called Movement Conservatives very deliberately set out to destroy what they saw as Soviet-like socialist ideology at home. As anti-tax crusader Grover Norquist wrote in the Wall Street Journal: “For 40 years conservatives fought a two-front battle against statism, against the Soviet empire abroad and the American left at home. Now the Soviet Union is gone and conservatives can redeploy. And this time, the other team doesn't have nuclear weapons.”

In the 1990s the Movement Conservatives turned their firepower on those they considered insufficiently committed to free enterprise, including traditional Republicans who agreed with Democrats that the government should regulate the economy, provide a basic social safety net, and promote infrastructure. Movement Conservatives called these traditional Republicans “Republicans in Name Only” or RINOs and said that, along with Democrats, such RINOs were bringing “socialism” to America.

With the “evil empire,” as President Ronald Reagan had dubbed the Soviet Union, no longer a viable enemy, Movement Conservatives, aided by new talk radio hosts, increasingly demonized their domestic political opponents. As they strengthened their hold on the Republican Party, Movement Conservatives cut taxes, slashed the social safety net, and deregulated the economy.

At the same time, the oligarchs who rose to power in the former Soviet republics looked to park their illicit money in western democracies, where the rule of law would protect their investments. Once invested in the United States, they favored the Republicans who focused on the protection of wealth rather than social services. For their part, Republican politicians focused on spreading capitalism rather than democracy, arguing that the two went hand in hand.

The financial deregulation that made the U.S. a good bet for oligarchs to launder money got a boost when, shortly after the September 11, 2001, attacks, Congress passed the PATRIOT Act to address the threat of terrorism. The law took on money laundering and the illicit funding of terrorism, requiring financial institutions to inspect large sums of money passing through them. But the Financial Crimes Enforcement Network (FinCEN) exempted many real estate deals from the new regulations.

The United States became one of the money-laundering capitals of the world, with hundreds of billions of dollars laundered in the U.S. every year.

In 2011 the international movement of illicit money led then–FBI director Robert Mueller to tell the Citizens Crime Commission of New York City that globalization and technology had changed the nature of organized crime. International enterprises, he said, “are running multi-national, multi-billion dollar schemes from start to finish…. They may be former members of nation-state governments, security services, or the military…. These criminal enterprises are making billions of dollars from human trafficking, health care fraud, computer intrusions, and copyright infringement. They are cornering the market on natural gas, oil, and precious metals, and selling to the highest bidder…. These groups may infiltrate our businesses. They may provide logistical support to hostile foreign powers. They may try to manipulate those at the highest levels of government. Indeed, these so-called ‘iron triangles’ of organized criminals, corrupt government officials, and business leaders pose a significant national security threat.”

In 2021, Congress addressed this threat by including the Corporate Transparency Act in the National Defense Authorization Act. It undercut shell companies and money laundering by requiring the owners of any company that is not otherwise overseen by the federal government (by filing taxes, for example, or through close regulation) to file with FinCEN a report identifying (by name, birth date, address, and an identifying number) each person associated with the company who either owns 25% or more of it or exercised substantial control over it. The measure also increased penalties for money laundering and streamlined cooperation between banks and foreign law enforcement authorities.

But that act wouldn’t take effect for another three years.

Meanwhile, once in office, the Biden administration made fighting corruption a centerpiece of its attempt to shore up democracy both at home and abroad. In June 2021, Biden declared the fight against corruption a core U.S. national security interest. “Corruption threatens United States national security, economic equity, global anti-poverty and development efforts, and democracy itself,” he wrote. “But by effectively preventing and countering corruption and demonstrating the advantages of transparent and accountable governance, we can secure a critical advantage for the United States and other democracies.”

In March 2023 the Treasury told Congress that “[m]oney laundering perpetrated by the Government of the Russian Federation (GOR), Russian [state-owned enterprises], Russian organized crime, and Russian elites poses a significant threat to the national security of the United States and the integrity of the international financial system,” and it outlined the ways in which it had been trying to combat that corruption. “In light of Russia’s further invasion of Ukraine,” it said, “we must redouble our efforts to prevent Russia from abusing the U.S. financial system to sustain its war and counter Russian sanctioned individuals and firms seeking to exploit vulnerabilities in the U.S. financial system.”

The collapse of the USSR helped to undermine the Cold War democracy that opposed it. In the past 32 years we have torn ourselves apart as politicians adhering to an extreme ideology demonized their opponents. That demonization also helped to justify the deregulation of our economy and then the illicit money from the rising oligarchs it attracted, money that has corrupted our democratic system.

But there are at least signs that the financial free-for-all might be changing. The three years are up, and the Corporate Transparency Act will take effect on January 1, 2024.

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#Heather Cox Richardson #Letters from an American #money laundering #the former Soviet Union #financial deregulation #movement conservatives #Corporate Transparency Act #corruption #history #the hard right

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