The flight deck of HMS Eagle photographed in the Gulf of Aden during the British withdrawal from the Aden colony, November 1967.
Image: IWM (HU 106844) <1/2>
@IWM via X
A Short History Of The Aden Emergency
In 1839 Britain captured the town of Aden (now part of Yemen) in the south of the Arabian Peninsula.
Like the later seizure of Cyprus (1878) and of Egypt (1882), the occupation of Aden was a strategic rather than commercial undertaking, guarding the lines of communication with India. With British Somaliland on the ‘horn of Africa’, Aden provided control of the entrance to the Red Sea.
Following the opening of the Suez Canal in 1869, Britain established protectorates in the hinterland of South Arabia to act as a buffer against the Ottomans who occupied Yemen. In 1937 Aden became a Crown Colony.
Following her humiliation in the Suez Crisis of 1956, Britain granted independence in February 1959 to the Federation of South Arabia, which was formed from the Aden colony and the surrounding protectorates, in order to stabilise the region, which had been dogged by years of unrest fuelled by Arab nationalism and anti-colonialism.
Having replaced Cyprus as the base of Middle East Land Forces, Aden was of even greater strategic importance to Britain, maintaining with Far East Land Forces in Singapore its global presence. In 1962 the British government announced that a permanent British garrison would be maintained in Aden. Yet in 1967, the British were forced to withdraw from the colony.
Aircraft include De Haviland Sea Vixen FAW.2s of 899 Naval Air Squadron and Blackburn Bucaneer S.1 and S.2s of 800 Naval Air Squadron. HMS Albion, HMS Fearless and HMS Auriga are visible behind.
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On this day in 1946
Launch Of HMS Eagle
19th March 1946: Princess Elizabeth, later Queen Elizabeth II of Great Britain, with Sir Frederick Rebbeck the managing director of Harland and Wolff, on the launching platform of the Harland and Wolff shipyard in Belfast.
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RE: that football anon. This is probably going to sound so weird but ive been trying to figure out if you were british for a few weeks now so this gives me some closure i didn't know I needed 😝 its always hard to tell with HP writers
i love that you contributed to the football anon discussion by becoming another football anon. thank you for the consistency. ;-)
that being said—i'm actually only sort of british!! my parents are both american and i was technically born in the u.s. (literally only for citizenship purposes) but lived my childhood in england up into my teen years. i had a chance at complete americanisation then after moving back to the us. but lost it all by dating and subsequently marrying the only other english person in my american high school haha. who, ironically, i knew as a child...in england. it's a small world after all and all that, i guess? or maybe he was just OBSESSED with me??? probably definitely that one tbh.
but tldr; i have the honour of picking and choosing when i want to be pretentious by straddling america and the uk. and i will always choose to be pretentious about football.
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brat taming kirishima with his bratty tsundere girlfriend.
idk thinking that kiri can be such a soft but hard as fuck dom and it always come to a head when you get snarky, like he knows how you are, almost as bad as bakugou.
but god, does he love when you subconsciously act out.
in this sense, you had completely forgot the rule about not allowing kiri to help you with the heavier things. he hates when you get too independent. sure, he knows you carry yourself so, so good. but hes trying to make you not be so defensive, so independent where you cannot be helped because you wont let the thickest walls down.
and on top of that, you shooed him away. biggest mistake for you.
“you know youre not supposed to be carrying these heavy things, right baby?” he tries to take the big box of a black grill out of your hands, but you pull away and swat your hand.
“i can do this shit by myself, kiri.” you grumble, sitting it in the garage with a standing kirishima.
none of that mattered now, not the way he has you folded up on your back to mattress and spread eagle.
the sheer force of his body always knocked you into oblivion, thrusts making your voice so high and ragged.
“i’m sorry, im so sorr—y!” you squeal, moans just bubbling out and a thumb circling your clit.
“oh, i know.” he coos, thrusts becoming meaner by the second. oh, he was pissed. pissed because, the fuck you thought this was? let him lift heavy things for you! youre not single anymore.. and your exes were some punk ass bitches. “bet you wont do this shit again, huh baby?”
you nod, tears starting to bubble up in the corner of your eyes and trying to keep the hold of the back or your knees.
he slows, keeping that motion on your clit and thrusting once really hard. “words, baby.” he growls, pointed teeth gritting.
“yes! yes!” you hiccup, feeling his hips go back to bullying your cervix.
“such a fuckin’ brat you know?” he groans, soft slaps against your cheek. “need’a real man to fuck into you like this, huh?” he coos again, rolling his eyes at a certain tightness. “always gotta be so mean to me.”
you nod, babbling incoherent words and sentences as he circled your over sensitive clit and push his cock deeper. “igunnacum!”
“there you go, just let go and cum, ‘kay baby?”
you hate how gooey he makes you feel. how patience is his strongest suit and making you feel so pathetic in his hands. he was right, needed a big bruly man to fuck you so deep you forget to rebuild that wall you made to protect yourself.
“you going to be mean like that again?” he asked, thrusting in his needy tip that pushes and traps you into the corner of the bed that is against the wall. “hm? cmon, say something, love.”
one thing about kirishima, you know hes pissed when hes drilling you like this, and he’s mocking and laughing at you.
his hands grips your hips hard, all two eighty five hundred pounds of him loving you. “fuck— fuck! yeah, cum!” demanded, and starved. finally, he hits that gummy spot hard enough, and your clit throbs and feels like it clenches on its own, creamy translucent fluid just dribbling from your walls and he laughs out.
“oh, thats my girl.” he shushes, wiping the tears and kissing your cheek. he groans, pulling himself out from your confinements and stroking himself, looking down as he growls from his chest meanwhile his own essence drools to the couch.
you just lay there, a twitching mess as he presses your legs up. he takes the discarded shirt of his to wipe up your cream and then his own. “you okay baby? did i go to hard, again?” he thickly swallows, feeling the pat of your hand against his large bicep.
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